The Dead Hand (story)
Mike Davisson
Cory couldn't find the trumpet he loved so much, so he played the drum set
instead. He had always been fond of music--at times so obsessed with it
that he would forget to eat. When he was a child, he had once spotted his
trumpet all the way over at the island, and kept running into a wall in his
attempt to get to it. Fortunately, the hand had straightened him out
before that became habitual.
But where was the trumpet now? No matter, time to eat. He rode the lift
up to where the animals were. Cory liked the animals--especially the ones
above the incubator since they usually provided the sweet kind of food.
The only problem with them was their tendency to sting him. He didn't know
how they were doing it, but he certainly felt the pain. He picked up the
food and went right to avoid the animals. He started to eat his honey when
he noticed--ahh! there was the trumpet! He went into the mover, pushed the
lever, and went riding along the pulley to where the trumpet lay, right
below the colored flags.
He played the trumpet for a while, then noticed something interesting:
The hand, laying motionless on the ground. Cory stared at it, expecting it
to do something, but it didn't. It didn't look normal, either: the palm
was facing upwards, fingers curled in, yellowish skin turned grey. If Cory
had been smarter, he would have realized that the hand was dead.
Since he didn't, he thought that maybe Sara, the cute blonde he liked so
much, would be interested in it. He said, "Get hand," and picked it
up--quite cold and clammy to the touch, but somehow a wave of comfort and
contentment came over him as he held it. He spotted Sara down next to the
Coca-Cola machine (where she usually hung out), and made his way over to
her.
He smiled and droped the hand in front of her. Sara did not react the way
he wanted her to.
"Run! Run hand!" She ran to the right and went up the lift.
Cory didn't understand. Why was she running from him? Was it the horns?
He picked up the hand and went after her, chasing her all the way to the
submarine.
"Norn," he said, not knowing her name. He then kissed her.
Sara frowned. "No hand," she said. "Get yes Sara."
Finally, Cory understood. No hand. He went down the lift, dropped the
hand next to the deathcap, and went back up. Somehow he knew, that would
be the last time he would ever see the hand. No more tickles, no more
spanks, no more commands. For better or worse, the hand was gone.
Cory and Sara boarded the submarine and set off, on their way to new
adventures.
Lis 'Potato' Morris
ewww creepy!
try getting cyberlife to put that on their breeders stories <g>
I liked it though0- i like norn stories... should have a go myself sometime
I think..
Lis Morris,
Potato Lady Extraordinaire!
Get your hippy norns here!
http://ourworld.compuserve.com/homepages/morris_family/hippy.htm
Mike Davisson wrote in message <01bd3e6a$c6204120$668d...@inlink.com>...
Mike Davisson
Thanks! I forgot that they had the breeders stories, so I think I will.
Lis 'Potato' Morris <lis_m...@msn.com> wrote in article
<uiUjae4P9GA.226@upnetnews04>...
> ewww creepy!
> try getting cyberlife to put that on their breeders stories <g>
> I liked it though0- i like norn stories... should have a go myself
sometime
> I think..
>
> Lis Morris,
> Potato Lady Extraordinaire!
> Get your hippy norns here!
> http://ourworld.compuserve.com/homepages/morris_family/hippy.htm
>
> Mike Davisson wrote in message <01bd3e6a$c6204120$668d...@inlink.com>...
> > Cory couldn't find the trumpet he loved so much, so he played the drum
set
> >instead. He had always been fond of music--at times so obsessed with it
> >that he would forget to eat. When he was a child, he had once spotted
his
{snipped}
Murrburr
Cool story.
Murrburr