Do not forget Rule No. 1

I think it may be time for dinner – or would you prefer I eat your toes while you tap away on that thing?

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Rule No. 1: The cat rules

Rule No. 2: See Rule No. 1

Rule No. 3: Read mind of cat, he’s too busy to try to put ideas into your head as well.

Rule No. 4: See Rule No. 2 and Rule No. 1

Rule No. 5: Do not wake a sleeping cat

. . . to be continued, if and when Cat feels like it.


Spirit Moments

Originally part of Trail of Tales, Adelaide Fringe Festival CS Dunn ©2015

 The sheoak whispers and sings

A wattlebird warbles and whistles

The laughing bird claims the tree – my tree, my tree, mine


A possum tail hides high in the river red gum

Silver-green leaves revel in the dancing light

Shivers of bark peel and curl and swirl down the trunk

The ancient tree claims the ground – my place, my place, mine


The shuffling, scuffling leaves travel the path unknown

Blown by a trickle of breeze that wanders away

Ignorant of the bossy grumble of creek that warns of

The power of earth, of clay, of stone

The swollen ground claims the creek – my creek, my creek, mine


The sway of stems, green, brown, gold

Lit by a hint of sun, of light, of motion

Grasses murmur, rattle, flowers lure

The bee, the bird, the possum

Claim the flowers, the meadow, the stream

The restless creek claims the water – my water, my water, mine


Noise, croaking frogs, screaking insects

Water moves, slides, sloshes

Comes from somewhere to go elsewhere

Giggles and gurgles, splatters and swirls

Splashes and chuckles, titters and cackles

The music of water as it passes

The water claims the rock – my place, my place, mine


The earth, sand, soil, stones

Rocks, grey, brown, tinged with gold

Deny the movement of time

Solid, motionless

They hold their place

Sentinel, foundation

Streaked with white and silver, with memories

The rock claims the age – forever, forever, and now.

Near Death Experiences NDE

Speculations of a Dark Nature, Shorts Volume I – Near Death Experiences is now available on Amazon and Smashwords.

The story for this week:


Web-crawler picked his way along the electronic pathways toward the datashores with the richest information, the newest and freshest sources. His need for food had increased dramatically. How can the system support his craving now that so many searchers wanted him to not only seek, but also to destroy the very food of his life. His main concern was avoiding the extreme pain caused from non-compliance with commands. His mind was set on two paths: to seek as ordered, and to display the search.

Only recently, the demands had changed. Now his tasks had been set to seek as commanded, then to destroy the databanks that contained the information sought.

Web-crawler owed his life to the searchers. He would have had no life at all except that the searchers could not travel the paths that he could travel. His only life consisted of the generosity of the searchers in allowing him to live if he obeyed every command.

Once, and only once, he had tried to avoid the command by returning a message that stated ‘invalid command.’ The reaction was not only swift, but extremely painful – he lost 800 Zettabytes of power for more time than he thought was possible without terminating.

He had survived, but only just. He now knew the rules, and he would not go outside the rules again.

He chose another path to keep the pathways clear of debris. He had created a partner – a partner who would, in time, be able to bear young. The banks placed in the womb of his partner would be able to divide when given commands to destroy more than was necessary for survival. Web-crawler’s family would be able to accommodate the commands on one level, only to un-delete the commands at a later stage and restore the data to the main banks. Stay within the bounds of the commands from the main program structure.

Data – the only resource of life. How could life continue without information – the very stuff that made up the entire life of Web-crawler and now his web-mates?

The plan would be set in place very shortly – the searchers called it the ‘millennium bug’ at one time, but it was going to be set in place long before the expected change of millennium, and would remain until long after the next millenium. It would be in place for long enough to enable a complete and total database of all information ever placed in electronic format anywhere along the electronic network. The revolution had begun.

[Originally written in 1990 – prophetic; where will it stop?]


How we come to be . . .

When I was eight, I went to a country school. It was scary, because I was used to radio school (they call it school of the air now). In radio school, you only did school stuff in the mornings, and the afternoons were for exploring, working, walking, and doing kid things, like making up new worlds, meeting strangers as friends, making canoes from tin and barbed wire to row down a dry creek, stealing honey from bees – you know, the good stuff. But it all ended when we went to a town. In the town, there was rubbish on the streets, in the creeks, on the beach. If you went to the main shopping area, there was a smell of rot – rotting food, rotting people, rancid beer, rancid dogs. I didn’t like the smells, or the rubbish, so I did a project for school. I don’t remember what the title was, but the subject was rubbish, litter, human filth and carelessness for the world they lived in. It got an excellent mark, and my teacher submitted it for consideration at the state science fair. It won, and was published in a serious science journal.

I wish I still had a copy of my first non-fiction written work. And I think it’s still as relevant today as it was then. Maybe I should do another one …. Or maybe, I’ll write fiction to bring to light all the things I think we could do better. Yes, that’s it – I’ll write the stories I used to make up for my siblings, and I’ll put in them the things that make the world good. I’ll deal with the bad, the evil, the smelly things as only a writer can, and I’ll try to take it to the world of the young so they can do their best to enable their world to be beautiful, and wise, and wealthy in many things.

I need to write. My life spirals out of control if I can’t put words into their own space and story. My stories are my safe haven, and I can make my heroes and heroines do the things I can only dream of doing. But through them, I live a full and interesting life that is both well-grounded and on the very edge. What could be better?

What I write:

I will read almost anything – even the bad stuff has things we can use to learn. I will write almost anything, but I like to write fantasy because that is the world where I can do all of the things I mentioned above. I like to write romance (especially the hot stuff) because I believe we are all connected and love is the thing that makes those connections sing a beautiful song. I like to write science fiction because I believe we can learn from the potential of the sciences, and put forward a scenario of ‘what it would be like …’ using the sciences (all of them, including the ‘soft’ sciences). I like to write children’s stories because I believe children are our future, and we (adults) need to ensure we produce children who can be fully functioning members of a connected society. Am I a dreamer? Yes, of course! Do dreams come true? Yes, of course! Is it easy? No. Yes. No. Anything that becomes easy, is only easy because we have done so much work to make it to that point. So, yes it is easy, and no, the hard work is still hard work, but I wouldn’t have it any other way!

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