Favorite videos, music, stories and my own batch of original stories which focus on science fiction, fantasy, mystery and thriller genres. Also a nice sprinkling of art as well.
Monday, October 14, 2013
Well, it's Monday again and I've got some more fun for you to read. So why waste time. On to:
War of the Worlds!
Wells had tried to explain to his mother that it was just a fairy tale, but she had said that humans needed tales that were more uplifting, and his would make them sad. That had set Wells to working on his next story, “The Invisible Man,” where a crime fighter used his abilities to vanish to track down Jack the Ripper. His father had actually liked that one and sent it off to the local paper, The England Royal Journal. It had been published and for a time young Wells had become a household name to match that of Verne.
Even young Jules had made a stir with his story about a vehicle that could burrow beneath the earth, which he had called the “Nautilus,” and called the story “The Adventures of Captain Nemo.”
While the science was weak, it was enough to impress quite a few scientific scholars, who sought out Jules to see what else he could come up with. Later he had found out from his father that he had sent them, because the Admiralty had wanted to try out new ideas to strengthen their armed forces, and his young mind was a brilliant one.
His father had been quite proud of him.
Finished, the two young teens, sat contently against the West leg of the Eiffel, enjoying the view before them. Several young madamoseilles with twirling parasols strolled by, and giggled coquettishly at them. Wells had stuck his tongue out and made a gagging sound, which made them giggle even more.
“You’re disgusting for a Brit.” Jules finally commented.
Wells nodded his head. He wasn’t one to talk a lot. Later on, Jules found out that Wells’ father had been a very prim and proper House of the Lords man, and would not sanction any kind of talk from his son except: hello, good-bye, thank you, and yes sir.
“How sad!” Jules had commented.
Wells shrugged his shoulders. “My father’s a busy man. He only has time for helloes, goodbyes, thank yous and yes.”
Jules gave him a shocked look. “My parents are never too busy.”
Wells nodded. “Undoubtedly. But your parents aren’t guarding the welfare of the planet.”
Jules had shut up. His eyes widened. “That much?”
“Indeed.” Wells had answered. “I will tell you something more if you promise not to spread a word of it.”
Jules leaned closer and Wells whispered. “War of the Worlds.”
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