June awoke with a headache and a clogged nose. Her brain felt slow, and she had trouble reading her autodoc report. Apparently it had tried to fight whatever pathogen had struck her down and lost. Too ill to decide what to do next, June sent out an SOS on the ship's feed, and a minute later Ada knocked on her door and entered.

"I'm dyim!" June lamented. "Eberytim hurbs!"

"There, there." Ada gently patted June's arm, helped her sit up, and handed her a hot drink. "I take it you didn't travel a lot?"

June shook her head, sipped the beverage, and grimaced.

"It's just ginger tea." Ada smiled. "I'll also update your autodoc with the latest signatures, but station-flu is station-flu, still nothing to be done than fluids and sleep. It'll be over soon." She handed June a nasal spray. "This'll free up the airways."

"Pfanks." June finished the tea and laid back down. A minute later, loud snoring filled the cabin.

11/X

#writing #microfiction #smallstories #tootfic #scifi

#TimeTravelingGhost EP 8: Post 82: 2025 Arkham

#Wss366 Irish & #StPatricksDay #TimeTravelAuthors 03/17. Patient or patience in your story

Rather than leave the way we had come, I decided to time-trip out. The less information we gave our foes, the better. Apparently, they knew we could time-travel, but we could hold dematerialization as a trump card.

I took Emily’s hand and thought about our next destination. “Take us to my university office on the day the pink rat arrives from the future.”

The familiar sensations of time-tripping took over, and we appeared in a small academic office. Green streamers hung from the window, and a mega plushy papillon wearing an emerald top hat sat in the guest chair. A small plastic Buddha rested on the desk next to a picture of a young woman and me. Behind them stood the brick wall of an #Irish pub. The picture triggered a sense of profound sadness, but no memories.

Emily burst out laughing when she saw the clothes I’d manifested. “Nice duds. Is that what the daring avant-garde wear in your time? Absurd, but it’s charming in its own way.”

I pulled the floppy hat down and the N95 mask up higher, hoping they might hide how red my cheeks were. They probably matched the large cherry-red sunglasses I was sporting. I’d considered wearing a hijab but was unsure about the cultural implications of a nonbeliever wearing one. “I told you I don’t want people to see two Professor Henrietta Dubois’s.”

“Professor Tweedledee and Dum,” Emily joked.

I tipped up my glasses and rolled my eyes. She laughed.

“And this must be a young Tweedle-dumb,” she said, looking at the picture. “You look happy.

She stopped, tapped a signature, and said, “Whose Sarah Lockwell?” The amusement on her face had faded.

“I don’t remember.” My response wasn’t an evasion. I truly didn’t remember.

“Shame,” she said, but it didn’t sound as if she meant it.

Next, she walked around the desk, materialized her hand, and opened the bottom drawer. “Brandy. You were a bit of a lush, weren’t you, Professor Dumb?”

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m a spy, sleuthing.”

“Well, be careful. You’ll get caught snooping.”

“You’re the only one who can see me.”

“Right, I forgot.”

After that, I sat #patiently on the edge of the guest chair while Emily continued to investigate. “Faustus Pakt, Liber Juratus, Pompilius’ Spiegel,” she read as she browsed the books on a shelf. “You had quite an interest in Faust and medieval grimoires.”

Having no memory of my prior reading, I didn’t comment.

Emily had moved back to the desk when the door opened, interrupting her investigation. In the corridor stood an outraged Professor Dubois, carrying a pink rat in a cage.

Medieval Grimoires:

#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #UrbanFantasy #Mythpunk #TimeTravel #HistoricalFantasy #Series #SaintPatricksDay

••⋅☾Two Authors of Konbini Idol (Kan-chan POV)☽⋅••

#Vss366 Irish / #StPatricksDay #EroticMusings 42: Languages?

Part 2 of 2

She first told the bartender in Japanese, “She wants a virgin melon soda. No alcohol.”

“Arigatogozaimasu,” the woman responded, bowing slightly. She was older with short, gray hair. She wore an idol t-shirt and a black biker jacket adorned with anime keychains and idol patches. “Otaku,” I thought, not unkindly.

“Watashi wa Nara Moore desu.” Her Japanese was atrocious, but it was clear she had introduced herself as Nara Moore.

“I speak English,” Ume said. “Would you like to join my friends and me? You look lonely.” She must have been wasted too, or maybe she thought it would please Shishi.

“This is Tomo-san and Kan-chan,” Ume began introducing us.

I bowed.

“And these two are Tsugumi-san and Matsumoto-san. I’m Ume, and this is Shiori-san. She’s an ex-idol and she might know who that is,” Ume continued, pointing to Nara’s shirt.

“I do. She’s a great screamer,” Shishi said. The Japanese “Sukurīmā” must have been close enough, and Nara gave her a thumbs-up. Ume’s girlfriend was finally looking interested in what was going on. Too bad she and Nara couldn’t understand each other. Otherwise, they could have talked about idol stuff while the rest of us drank.

Nara joined us, bowed again, and repeated her name.

“We’re celebrating the publication of my book,” Ume explained.

“Oh, you’re an author too. So am I. What do you write?” Nara sounded excited.

“Yuri and slice of life. The book I just sold is about women who have to break a curse. And you?”

“Yuri, mythpunk, and surreal fantasy.”

“Did you ask her?” Matsumoto broke in.

“No,” Ume said. “My friends want to know why all the drinks are green today.”

"It's St. Patrick's Day," she said, pointing to the sign.

“今日は聖パトリックの日です,” Ume translated.

“Who’s St. Patrick?” Tsugumi asked.

Ume repeated what had been said to Nara, who replied, “He’s an #Irish saint who’s reputed to have driven all the vipers from Ireland. He supposedly brought Christianity there.”

Ume translated again. Then, switching back to English, she asked, “So what have you written?”

“It’s embarrassing, so I’ll skip that. But I’m currently writing about a woman who’s turned into a crow. It’s called ‘Airisu: The Crow and the Witch.’ The crow…”

Tomo whispered to me, “I hope Ume doesn’t add someone new to her harem.”

I laughed. Knowing Ume, she just might.

#TootFic #MicroFiction #KonbiniIdol #NMFic #SaintPatricksDay #SliceOfLife