Flatiron City

Video of the post below

2007-09-02T01:15:00.000-06:00

You may read along if you like, or just listen or just read.

January 25, 2100: A Date with Susan

2007-09-02T00:18:00.001-06:00

Katsuro did a final check before pushing the “Open Store” button on the tea gallery’s master computer. All of his tea stocks added up, his books were current, and he had a hefty supply of disposable cups. With a push of the button, all of the lights in the store turned on and the doors clicked open, allowing a fiery haired bunny rabbit to come in from the cold. “Good morning,” Katsuro grinned, remembering her from last week.

Susan returned Katsuro’s smile and brushed her hair behind her ear. She gazed at the menu, trying to make up her mind. Katsuro noticed that she wore a green mock turtle sweater, just a little too long, but still hugging her in a way that made men stare. Her blue jeans had the same effect. Finally, Susan stepped up to the counter, biting her lip. “Can I have an English Breakfast?”

Katsur nodded and prepped the brew with practiced precision, buzzing around like a bee making honey. “Here you go.” Katsuro handed Susan the steaming cup of bitter-sweet dark tea.

Susan accepted her drink and reached into her messenger bag.

“Don’t worry about it,” Katsuro smiled again. “It’s on me.”

“Oh,” Susan paused, mildly confused. “Are you sure?”

Katsuro laughed. “Yeah, it sounds like you need a wake up, anyway.”

Susan bobbed her head. “The tea you gave me the other day helped me sleep, now I can’t wake up. Ironic, huh?” Susan chuckled shyly, sipping her tea. She jumped suddenly and cringed. “I burned my tongue,” she scowled.

Katsuro laughed again. “Sorry, it’s still hot.”

Susan blushed. “I know, see how tired I am? Well, I need to get to class.”

“Hold on,” Katsuro walked around the counter. “May I take you to dinner tonight?”

Susan didn’t move, staring at Katsuro as if he’d just asked her to climb onto the roof of the tea gallery. She licked her lips, trying to find her voice.

“Sorry,” Katsuro started to apologize, but Susan jumped in.

“Oh, don’t be. I wasn’t expecting you to ask that. I’d love to go out tonight.” Susan opened her bag and dug around for a few minutes, trying to find a pen and some paper. When she found some, she scribbled down her name and phone number and handed it to Katsuro. “I get out of my last class at five. What time do you want to meet?”

“How about seven?”

Susan nodded enthusiastically. “Alright. Where?”

“Do you know Golden Peaks Lounge?”

Susan’s eyes popped out of her head and her jaw thudded on the hardwood floor. She worked her mouth, trying to force out a reply, but she gave up and just nodded.

Katsuro’s smile nearly cracked his head in two, and his chuckle rattled the windows. “Is there something wrong with that restaurant?”

“No, I’ve just never met anyone who can afford it.”

Katsuro shrugged. “I save up for special occasions. It’s been so long since I’ve gone out, my budget for nice dinners is pretty big. Would you rather go somewhere else?”

Susan wrinkled her forehead and gave Katsuro a half frown. “I think so. I just wouldn’t feel comfortable at a place that, I dunno, uptight?”

“Alright. How about Mile Hai Sushi?”

Susan’s eyes lit up. “I haven’t had sushi in a long time. That’d be great. See you at seven?”

Katsuro laughed again and promised to be on time. Susan rushed out the door, mumbling about being late to class and sipping her tea. Katsuro settled in behind his counter, surfing the internet for news of Transient Sage.

January 20, 2100: Susan

2007-08-24T16:17:00.000-06:00

Susan looked around the giant building trying to get her bearings. E-lifts whizzed by her taking passengers up or down to the other floors of Flatiron City. A tram chimed off in the corner and a pleasant female voice announced, “Evan’s Park, home of the popular Hanaka Nippon Tea Gallery.” Susan raised an eyebrow confusedly and darted onto the tram, just missing getting pinched by the doors.

As the tram picked up speed, Susan gazed at her surroundings, awestruck over the monumental construction just outside Boulder, Colorado. Three great towers rose high over the landscape, surrounded by a vast wildlife habitat, set up as compensation for all of the natural resources the city would take up. Nearly ninety thousand people lived in the great coning tubes, not to mention the hundreds of thousands of employees who commuted from nearby Boulder, Denver, and even all the way from Colorado Springs. Susan had grown up in Parker, a city just south of Denver, but she’d never been to Flatiron City until she moved in to the dorms at CCU FC. Her second semester was about to begin, and she needed to get something calming to stay the panic that threatened to flood her mind, and she heard that Hanaka Nippon sold the best tea in the city and the owner could combine leaves that would calm an enraged bull.

The sky above the topmost center park threatened snow, and the wind confirmed Susan’s suspicion as she clambered out of the car. Susan tightened her sweater around her shoulders, adjusted her carrier bag on her shoulder, and forged off into the park. As she passed the condos looking down on the platform, Susan started to feel out of place. Even though Parker had several rich neighborhoods, they all paled in comparison to the penthouses of this tower, especially those with a mountain view. Finally, Susan spotted a single building in the center of the park that looked like it had been transported from Feudal Japan, rising red and white across from an elegant fountain (at least it would have been elegant if it wasn’t so cold). Susan picked up her pace and pushed through the door.

“Afternoon,” said the man behind the counter in a sophisticated English accent. He flipped through a magazine as Susan walked up to the counter.

“Hi,” Susan said inattentively. “Do you have any chamomile?”

The young man chuckled. “Sure do. Are you having trouble sleeping?”

Susan nodded, shrugging. “I can’t focus. The semester is about to start, and I did alright last fall, but my classes in the spring are going to be pretty hard.”

“Got just the thing.” He turned around and started putting ingredients into a loose leaf tea bag. “So how long you been in the city?”

“Four months,” Susan replied.

“What’s your name?”

“Susan. You?”

“Katsuro,” he replied, handing Susan a hot cup of brewing tea.

“Thanks. How much do I owe you?”

“Two bucks.”

Susan handed Katsuro a few dollars and rushed from the shop, still trying to collect her thoughts.

A second later Katsuro was walking next to Susan trying to get her attention. “Hey, you forgot your change.”

Susan looked at Kaksuro, “Oh, no that was for you!” She smiled a pretty, toothy grin and brushed her hair behind her ear. “You have a good reputation at the college, and I really needed this.” She raised the tea, emphasizing her point.

Katsuro smiled back, thanking Susan and making her stomach tremble oddly. “Well, have a good day. If you need any more tea, come on back.” He extended his hand and Susan reached out and shook it, hoping it was cold enough to explain her flushed cheeks.

Katsuro watched Susan walk back to the tram and then returned to his store. “Too bad she can’t come to the club. Wonder what Rachel would think of her.” He smiled to himself for the rest of his work day, still grinning when he sidled up to the bar at the Azure Serpent.

Snowing: January 1, 2100

2007-03-24T10:47:00.000-06:00

Katsuro looked over at the clock, ten in the morning. He sat up slowly, expecting to have a headache, but he felt wide awake and full of energy. Last night was the big millenium party and the Azure Serpent, Transient Sage played most of the night, and Katsuro drank too much whiskey and stout. He didn't even remember the countdown, let alone going home. He remembered, vaguely, a cute little blonde girl and her hardcore straightedge friend, and then he paniced. Katsuro jumped out of bed and dashed out into the kitchen to find Rachel making a light breakfast.

"What did I do last night?" He asked, worried.

Rachel laughed. "The cute little blonde girl you were chatting up asked me to bring you home so that you wouldn't get lost. You were completely wasted, I had to carry you half the way here."

Katsuro slumped onto his couch. "Yeah, don't let me drink that much again."

"I won't," Rachel said as she handed Katsuro a bowl of steamed rice and sweetened condenced milk. "I don't like you gabbing at my ass all night."

Katsuro's jaw dropped and Rachel burst into laughter. "That was mean," Katsuro glowered, taking a bite of his sweet-rice.

"I'm leaving for England today," Rachel said casually.

"I know. How long you gonna be gone?"

"A couple of months. I want to record another album, and I'm going to play some local clubs."

Katsuro chewed thoughtfully. He pushed a button on the flat control, opening the window-shades. The mountains were covered with snow, flakes drifted slowly down in front of the window, blown from the roof of Flatiron City, making Katsuro and Rachel stop and stare. The sun shone in shafts through the clouds, illuminating the plains between the city and the mountains. Katsuro gave Rachel a quick hug and returned to his food.

"Happy new year," she said.

"Happy new year."

July 15, 2099: Aaron and Alison

2006-11-22T23:17:00.000-07:00

Aaron slowly drifted into consciousness, acutely aware of a gentle weight on his left shoulder. He gazed down at Alison, fast asleep in his arms. He tried, delicately, to remove himself from the bed, but his stirring pulled Alison back from her dreams. She looked up at Aaron and smiled weakly. "Leaving so soon?" she asked, almost teasing.

Aaron smiled back. "I just wanted to get you some breakfast. How about some eggs?"

"That actually sounds good." Alison sat up and watched Aaron get dressed, hugging her knees quietly. When Aaron went into the kitchen, she leaned back against the headboard and stared at the sealing. The events of the past few weeks played back to her mind, and she started to cry again. But as she remembered the previous night, the tears slowly faded.

Alison closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A few moments later, dressed in an oversized baby-blue sweater, she slid onto a stool next to the kitchen counter and watched Aaron finish breakfast. "Smells good," she said sleepily.

Aaron grinned and scooped scrambled eggs onto two plates with some bacon, poured some orange juice, and plopped down next to Alison.

They shared breakfast in comfortable silence, Aaron beaming and Alison blushing shyly.

-------------Notes from the writer----------------

I know it's been a long time, but this is because I haven't had a lot of time for the site. I'm going to get this going if I can, but I have another writing project that I want to work on at the same time, and I have to work on my education for a while. I'm going to have a light schedule next semester, so here's hoping.

I promise that the Detriment show will happen. I want some artwork for the post, but that may not happen, I'd have to find an artist who I can rely on. I'm excited to be writing again. I hope this is enjoyable for you. The writing quality should improve, at the very least to the high-point of this site, but hopefully higher.

April 9, 2099: Zang's Diet Wake-up Juice!

2006-04-05T10:29:00.000-06:00

Katsuro opened the shade to the main room of his flat. A low groan floated down from the balcony where Rachel lay curled under a blanket. Katsuro poured a cup of coffee and delivered it to his overnight couch-leech.

"I have to get to work, and you don't have a key, so get up."

Rachel scowled up at the Japanese man grinning down at her. "I'm a DJ, I don't get up this early." She threw her blanket off and sat up in a huff, grabbing the hot coffee. "Did I do anything stupid last night?"

Katsuro chuckled. "You ate half a pizza, drank most of my sake, and danced around the flat until you passed out."

Rachel cringed. "Sorry."

Katsuro dismissed the apology with a flick of his wrist. "Let's go."

They parted ways at Hanaka Nippon; Katsuro opened the tea gallery and Rachel decided to get some breakfast and then head back to the Azure Serpent. She took an e-lift to the ground level and hopped a tram to the market in the South Tower. As she stepped off of the tram, an obnoxious ad screamed out to all who passed, "Zang's Diet Wake-up Juice! Why stop with outrageous amounts of caffeine? We promise zero calories! Five energizing nutrients! Twenty-five essential vitamins! And to top it off, it tastes GREAT! So come to your local market and try Zang's Diet Wake-up Juice!"

Rachel cringed, trying not to imagine what could possibly be in the drink. She didn't need to lose any weight. She walked into the largest super-market, grabbed a box of granola-bars and half-a-dozen donuts. Mmm.....breakfast of the stars!

July 4, 2099: Stupid Hicks!

2006-02-23T15:05:00.000-07:00

The kid just stood there staring at Katsuro, a geeky grin on his face.

"This isn't a circus, kid, and I'm not a clown. Stop smilin' and buy something, or better yet, get out!"

The kid's smile faltered slightly, he glanced at Rachel and back to Katsuro. "You own your own tea shop, you must be a wise sensei."

Katsuro rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. He hated the self-proclaimed otakus. A minor subculture turned pop-culture at the beginning of the century. Anyone could join this culture by obsessing in anime, manga, or anything Japanese. Katsuro had managed to avoid them for the most part, even after moving to the States. And he had nothing against anime or manga, he just hated people who obsessed over it.

"Get out of my store." Katsuro pointed toward the door, and the boy's parents walked in.

"Mom, dad, a real live sensei!"

"Do you even know what that word means?" Katsuro was fuming, to his surprise.

"It means 'teacher', sensei." The kid bowed.

"Yeah, and I'm not a teacher."

The mother of the boy smiled kindly. "Just indulge him a little. This is our first time to the city, and he has never had a chance to see anyone of your race."

"I won't indulge ignorance-"

"There will be nice tip in it for you," the father said, pulling out a $100 bill.

"Get out of my store or I'll have the police drag you out for disturbing my other customers."

The man with the blackberry who always sat in the corner by the door laughed to himself. Katsuro glared at him and then turned his attention back to his irritation. "Do you want to know what your problem is? You spoil your kid! You don't tell him that he's wrong because you don't want to hurt his feelings. Well, guess what! Your son is an idiot! He knows absolutely nothing about anything remotely Japanese, and because you would rather allow him to live in your little hick bubble, you probably won't ever let him actually learn about what it means to BE Japanese."

The three stood there for a good ten minutes, allowing Katsuro to vent his anger. Meanwhile, Rachel called the police and had them send over an officer to escort the visitors to safety.

April 9, 2099: Pizza, this early?

2006-02-16T17:39:00.000-07:00

Katsuro closed the shade of his glass wall as Rachel dug in the fridge for the unopened bottle of Mitsuko Sake. Katsuro walked over the his vid-phone and pressed the button marked "pizza". A menu popped up with a list of crust styles, sauces, cheeses, and toppings. Katsuro pushed an icon on the top right bringing up previous orders, selected the deep-dish Sicilian.

"Your pizza will arrive in approximately thirty minutes," an automated voice chimed.

Rachel cocked an eyebrow at Katsuro, handing him a glass. "Pizza? It's three in the morning."

"I got it from a nice all-night joint. I assumed you were going to stick around for a while, and you look hungry."

"What makes you think I'm staying past my intended booze intake?"

"It would be rude of you drink my 'booze' and rush off. Besides, I know you want to discuss how your interview went. The city vents can tear you to shreds, and you're not exactly 'old blood' as far as the Flatiron is concerned." Katsuro set his glass on the kitchen bar.

Rachel sipped her sake and sighed. "The were fumed-up vents tonight. I can't believe the let into me like that. I thought I had a lot of fans out there, and everyone that called in only criticized me. I'm glad I didn't mention the Hanaka Nippon."

Katsuro just smiled. "Nick Cavies probably got a call from his bosses a few minutes before you walked into the studio telling him to rip you to shreds. It boosts ratings, and the furious fans will spend money on you just to spite the nay-sayers."

Rachel smiled slightly. "It doesn't bother me, I just get so tuckered dealing with people like that all the time. I'm used to it, though."

Katsuro lifted his still full glass to his lips, sipping softly. "Heard from your parents lately?" He asked.

Rachel walked out of the kitchen and made her way up the spiral staircase into the loft, saying as she went, "Dad's doing well, mom too. They're sorry they couldn't make it to my show, though. You know they still haven't seen me work?" She rested her arms on the railing and peered down on Katsuro as he plopped down on the downstairs sofa.

"With good reason, I'm sure."

"Oh yeah," Rachel agreed. "I just wish they could try to get over and see me. " Rachel found the universal remote and dug through Katsuro's music collection, found a playlist labeled "Traditional Japanese & Irish Punk". She let out a laugh and pressed play. The speakers came to life, blasting out the early-century Belfast sensation Bonnie Lass Curls. Rachel skipped lightly down the stairs, singing along merrily, dancing around the floor as Katsuro chuckled softly.

"I think you've had enough to drink." He said, getting up and reaching for her glass, but before he could get close enough, she swallowed the remaining contents and let out hearty laugh.

"To hell with it, then." Katsuro drained his glass and joined Rachel on the dance floor, singing and spinning around the room until the pizza arrived.

April 8, 2099: Rachel's Radio spot

2006-02-10T21:59:00.000-07:00

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is Nick Cavies, your evening host on KMFC, the exclusive inside track for new music in and out of Flatiron city. We are here this evening with Rachel Morris, better known as Transient Sage, who is here promoting her up and coming show at the Detriment. Now Rachel, how are you?"

"I'm doing well."

"Great, now the rumor is you will be performing some original work at the show, is this a reply to critics who say the only reason you remix classical music is because you don't have any real musical talent?"

"In a way, yes. But I also want to expand my musical ability. It's rough trying to build a song. Especially without a band."

"Will you ever put a band together?"

"I don't think so. I've never really worked well with others, and I don't know if I want to go down the hardcore stadium touring that a band needs to survive. I enjoy staying in the clubs and selling all my work over the internet."

"Alright, well we're going to take a break, and we shall return to our conversation with Transient Sage where she will answer some questions from you, our listeners."

Rachel walked out of the studio, glowing with pride, as well as frustration. The constant stream of phone calls asking her out for dinner, intermixed with critics declaiming her work as lazy selling out to the machine. She never quite got the idea behind ignorant sub-cultures.

She took the lane past Ludwig's Bakery, waved to Ludwig as he cleaned up for the night. She walked on to the E-lift and took it up a few levels to meet Katsuro. The lights from the arena suspended between the three towers lit up most of the inner triangle of Flatiron City. A shaft of light sped upward in the tower across the gap; an E-lift headed for the school.

Rachel's lift stopped, and she turned to see if it was her floor. One more stop. When she finally reached the floor, she fixed her hair and checked her smile in a mirror. The crowd at the Azure Serpent would recognize her, and she didn't want to put them off with a negative attitude that could be interpreted as snobby.

She walked through the door and spotted Katsuro at the bar, chatting with Leon. She walked through the sapphire glow that permeated the club, smiling at the few fans who caught her attention, walked up to the bar, and ordered a stout.

"Sixteen days 'til the big show, mates." Rachel raised her glass and grinned at her friends.

April 8, 2099: Ignorance

2006-01-26T12:34:00.000-07:00

The lights in the Azure Serpent flowed from blue to green to violet. On Wednesday nights, the only sounds to be heard are the enthusiastic intellectuals arguing over subjects that are important to them, or playing the devil’s advocate just for kicks. At the bar, Katsuro joked with Leon about the psychology students from CUFC.

Katsuro pointed at a particularly energetic young man in a red sweater. “He’s been talking to this girl all night about how his professor changed his life. Red thinks he’s been living a lie, and this new way of thought is how he should have been living all along, how could he have been so blind?”

Leon nodded. “I don’t understand it. If you want to intellectualize yourself, the best thing to do is go read as many books about the same subject as you can. Get several points of view.”

Katsuro swallowed. “You know, I have a minor in psych.”

Leon chuckled. “Kool Kat, that would surprise me, but it really only explains your cynicism.”

Leon left to check on his other customers at the bar. Katsuro scanned the room as if he were looking for someone. Tiff (the French girl Katsuro despised) walked over and smiled at Katsuro. “’Ello, Katsuro. ‘Ave you seen James lately?”

Katsuro could smell cheap whiskey on her breath. Cringing, he looked Tiff in her glazed over eyes. “No. He’s been avoiding you since you got him drunk on Absinthe.”

Tiff pouted flirtingly. “Come on-”

“Piss off.” Katsuro growled and turned away. Tiff sauntered over to the kid in the red sweater, who immediately set about berating her about being French. Katsuro grinned, Ignorance must be bliss.

March 28, 2099: The Detriment Show, Part 2

2006-01-13T09:22:00.000-07:00

Bass: thump, tap, tap; thump, tap, tap. Drums: hat click, snare; hat click, snare. Guitar: whale calls, feedback through the amp. Organ: a Hammond B3 with duel Leslie speakers wails a bluesy moan. “Keep it simple,” Rachel smiles to herself as she mixes the various instruments. She doesn’t need a band, she can hear every part in her head. One instrument at a time, she plays through her first original recording, prepping for the Detriment show.

Janet told her she wanted explosive music; well, Janet, get ready for a missile to flatten your show. Simple, easy-going tracks to start out, build it up, with a finally worthy of Beethoven, Bach, Handel, or Mozart. “I love creating art,” Rachel smiles again, pleased with track 1. “Ok, let’s move on.”

------------------------------

Here we go...once again, bear with me while I get my swing going. It'll get better:-)

Giles

March 26, 2099: The Detriment Show, Part 1

2005-12-30T10:15:00.000-07:00

“You’re late,” Katsuro said as Rachel walked into Hanaka Nippon.

“What?” She looked at her watch: 11:45 am. “I’m fifteen minutes early!”

Katsuro laughed. “Do you think you can handle the store yourself?”

“I told you a hundred times already, yes.” Rachel walked behind the counter and into the back office. “Janet had an idea this morning.”

“Is it a good idea?”

“It’s an idea. She wants me to record some original pieces.”

Katsuro cleared the table in the corner as the man with the Blackberry waved goodbye. “Have you written anything original?”

Rachel walked out of the office, tying her apron behind her back. “I have a few songs, and Janet thinks they’re very good. She wants me to play at the Detriment.”

“Are you gonna do it?”

“I don’t know.” Rachel looked around the shop, checking for afternoon projects. “It’d mean polishing a lot of work. I’m still thinking about it.”

Katsuro put his apron away and fixed himself a cup of green tea. “I think you should do it,” he stared at her over the counter. “It’s a great opportunity, and you just might have some fun.” He winked and went for the door.

Rachel shrugged, clocked in, and wrote out a black cherry tea in the “employee drink log”.

Jack

2005-12-23T11:01:00.000-07:00

Read Jack's Blog: Disbelief

March 10, 2099: Hangover Tea

2005-12-16T20:19:00.000-07:00

Katsuro pulled up his financial records on the register and began a general audit. The unusual man in the corner sat sipping a cup of cranberry red tea, reading the news on his Blackberry. The sun shone brightly through the glass wall across from Katsuro, allowing him to enjoy the spring morning while he audited his store.

James walked in at around eleven, a sour look covering his face. He slumped up to the counter and mumbled something about green tea.

Katsuro looked up from his files and burst into laughter. “You look awful. What happened, you drink too much last night?”

James cringed. “Just get me some tea.”

Katsuro set about blending some herbs and spices, grinning all the while. “This’ll cure that hangover, guaranteed.”

James took the cup. “I think they’re trying to kill me.” He handed his card to Katsuro.

“Who are?” Katsuro rang the transaction: $6.50.

“Tiff and Shelly. I met up with them after the club last night. They had a two hundred year old bottle of Absinth.”

Katsuro’s jaw dropped. “I told you they were bad news, man. Your fist time with the green fairy?”

James nodded. “And it didn’t mix well with my dinner, or the beer, or wine.”

“Yeah, stay away from the French tarts from now on, right?”

“Sure. Hey, how much was this?” Katsuro showed James the bill. “You tryin’ to kill me too?”

Katsuro laughed again. “You’ll feel better, or the next one’s on me.”

James raised his cup to Katsuro and made his way to class, leaving Katsuro to chuckle to himself as he returned to his records.

After another hour of research and budget calculations, he finally came up with a way to hire Rachel at a decent wage. Coincidentally, she walked into the shop just as he finished putting away his files. “Busy morning, Katsu?”

Katsuro looked around at the nearly empty tea gallery. “Not really.” He grabbed a rag and cleaned up the table left vacant by the Blackberry reader. “My rush will probably come around two.”

Rachel smiled and leaned against the counter, pondering the menu. “What’s your favorite drink?”

Katsuro grabbed a cup and several loose-leaf canisters. “You’ll have to guess.” He started mixing ingredients.

“Family secret?” She cocked an eyebrow. “It’s not gonna kill me is it?”

“No, but if you ask me that again, I might.” He grinned. Katsuro poured hot water over the teabag, releasing the flowery scent of Jasmine, cherry blossoms, and just a hint of ginger. “When do you want to start training?” He asked handing her the cup.

Rachel’s face lit up. “Whenever. I’m free all this week, and next. Except for Monday. You gonna make me a brew-master?”

“For fifteen hundred a month.”

“I told you, I’ll work for free.” Rachel sipped her tea. “Mm, magic.”

“You won’t work for free, it’ll be fifteen hundred, or not at all. You want to start next Tuesday?”

“Fine, twist my arm.” Rachel beamed. She sipped contentedly on her tea for a few minutes, enjoying the sun with Katsuro. “Hey, where’re your parents at?”

“Right behind you.” Just then the door opened and Mr. and Mrs. Hanaka walked into the shop.

“Hello, Rachel,” Mrs. Hanaka smiled. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” Rachel replied. “You have a good trip?”

July 14, 2099: The Comfort of a Friend

2005-12-02T10:34:00.000-07:00

“Mom?” Alison looked around the apartment, and then the tears flowed freely. The last week had been torture; she felt very much like Poe as he wrote Lenore. Every hour or so, she would see someone or something that would remind her of mom.

Her mother's body had already been moved to Texas where her grandfather took care of the funeral arrangements. Alison was already packed to fly out the next morning.

She needed some comfort, some sort of distraction. Aaron answered his phone after only two rings. “Hi, Alison. How are you, really?”

A sob escaped her lips. “Can you come over for a little while?”

“Absolutely. Do you need me to bring anything? When was the last time you ate something decent?”

“Before I heard she was in the hospital.”

“I’ll get some Chinese.”

“Ok.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

Alison hung up and buried her head in her hands, engulfing them in salty tears. She barely had enough energy to let Aaron in when he arrived. After setting the food down, he joined Alison on the couch, put his arms around her and just let her cry. Her shoulders quaked as the sobs came and went, but with Aaron to lean on, things seemed to get easier, she felt restored, able to cope.

When Alison finally stopped crying, she looked up at Aaron and smiled. “Thank you.”

Aaron brushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face, smiling back. Alison sat up strait, leaned over, and kissed Aaron. Unsure of how to react, he simply returned the kiss, holding her close. After a moment, Alison pushed away and started unbuttoning her blouse.

“You don’t-”

Alison put a finger to his lips, cutting him off. “I want to.”

Aaron smiled, and they made love. They lost track of time, they forgot to eat. They only knew each other, and when they had no more energy, the held each other tight and drifted off to sleep.

Alison smiled to herself, and for the first time in days, she slept peacefully.

An Excerpt ...

2005-11-25T00:37:00.000-07:00

I guess I've never mentioned that I write freelance music articles, so I will now. And I'll mention that next weeks Front Range Scene is carrying an interview piece I did.
Here is an excerpt.
Read it or die!

- Jack.

----------------------------------------

Wandering with a Roamer

- Jack Moreland -

--------------------

District 3 is a mid-level shopping area in Tower 3 of Flatiron City. Several levels wander together here in a flowing pattern of ramps, hills and valleys. There is an InfoJava just off the grassy lawn of the Shanahan Amphitheater. Concert goers often migrate from the small venue, down the glass ramp that fades to black marble. It enters a winding, ever-narrower tunnel that squeezes tight at the end and then explodes open into The Detriment. Passive rock sets the mood at The Detriment. Old school artists Magnet and The Postal Service often vibrate the walls. In the early days Sheila's Left Arm played here, and they debuted their famous album 'No We're Not Aussie' to a packed house here on April 1, 2078. DJ's still come here to watch other DJ's. This club is, among passive rock guru's, more famous and important than CBGB's.

I came tonight to talk to guest DJ Transient Sage, on loan from sister club The Azure Serpent. Known for her classic classical pieces, Transient Sage has brought a steady stream of new business to the Serpent as its' first resident DJ.

Jack: Thanks for giving me some of your time, I guess I'll start with a question more for me than anyone else. Do I call you Sage or Transient or what?

Transient Sage: (laughing) You can call me Rachel.

J: You do classical pieces at the Serpent, and If I may say so they are awesome, but I'm wondering if you plan on trying anything different for Detriment shows?

TS: Thanks, Yeah, I've been working on some new stuff and for Friday's show I'll be debuting my first completely original album.

J: Whoa, so I get a scoop?

TS: (laughing again) Well, it's my scoop, but if it makes you happy you can have it.

J: So what brought about the gig here at The Detriment?

TS: Janet, at A.S., stumbled over one of my original pieces a few weeks ago, and she's been looking for new acts for The Detriment, so she asked me to play this Friday...

----------
Read more in the mag when it publishes.

March 10, 2099: A brief history

2005-11-18T11:44:00.000-07:00

Mr. and Mrs. Hanaka awoke to a pleasant, sunlit view of a small “wild mountain” garden. Columbines and evergreens looked up at their balcony declaring, “The morning has come, and there is natural beauty to be enjoyed, even amidst the modern city.” Mr. Hanaka hugged his wife from behind as they gazed at the garden.

“Our son chose a delightful place for us.” Mrs. Hanaka commented.

A knock sounded at the door, followed by a muffled, “Room service.”

Mr. Hanaka allowed the young man entrance, paid him, and set about arranging their breakfast. A simple assortment of pastries, fruits, and coffee refreshed them energized them for a day of site seeing. They decided to start at the Flatiron City Historical Society.

A film describing the history of the city began shortly after their arrival, so they decided to watch. The lights dimmed and the hologram of a well-dressed gentleman walked onto the stage.

“In the year 2010, the nation of Japan began construction on Tower City in an attempt to solve their mounting population problem.” The curtain spread, revealing the skeleton of the slowly rising Tokyo tower. “As you can imagine, this marvel caught the attention of the world powers, in particular, the Los Angeles city planners. Immigrants from Mexico continued to swell the borders of the West Coast’s largest city, and soon they would face the same problems as Tokyo.

“The city council met, and over the course of four years laid out plans for a tower to be built in the L.A. metro area. In 2014, the proposal was sent to D.C. for government approval and support. As you can imagine, the plans received a great deal of criticism. However, the governors of New York and New Jersey saw merit in the idea and gave California their full support.”

The narrator disappeared from view and the scene on stage revealed the governor of California closing his proposal. “The unemployment rate in California has reached an all time high. The construction of this building alone will create hundreds of jobs, and upon completion, thousands more in city maintenance. This new building will be almost entirely self-contained with its own dedicated power source, sewage and plumbing systems, and even an independent city government.”

The narrator walked through the hologram and continued his voice-over. “In fall of 2015, the issue hit the public ballot. The citizens of the United States were to decide if their tax money would help to build, not just one, but three tower cities: one in L.A., and one in New York City, bridged to a third in New Jersey.

“The general population received the plans with enthusiasm; however, a large group of environmental advocates stood in opposition. They stated that the pollution created by these monstrosities would ruin the environment and mar the skyline. These were petty arguments set forth by uninformed activists. The leading members of the protesting minority simply wanted an equal exchange for the great expanse of land consumed by the building. The issue remained on the 2015 ballot with the addendum that a fourth city must be built in Boulder, Colorado to free up one thousand acres for a wildlife preserve.

“In the summer of 2016, land was cleared at the four designated locations, and construction of the American tower cities began.” The narrator again disappeared, allowing the audience to see a time-lapse rendering of the Flatiron City building process.

“With advancements in hydrogen energy extraction, came cleaner, safer, more efficient tools that contributed to the efforts in cost reduction that were demanded in 2029 by congress and the nation’s tax payers.”

As Mr. and Mrs. Hanaka watched, the supporting columns for the three great towers of the city quickly climbed their way into the sky, much like enormous steel vines reaching for the sun. Framework spun around the base, as if giant spiders were creating tall funnel webs.

“In 2031, after many setbacks and budgeting issues, the Disney Corporation set the foundation for a fifth U.S. tower. In a press release CEO Robert A. Iger said, and I do quote, ‘What the hell, we have enough land, and it’s been a while since we added a new attraction.’”

The narrator again walked onto the stage, the curtains coming together behind him. “Though it was the third to begin construction, Flatiron City was the first tower to reach completion, and on July 4, 2076, a grand opening celebration welcomed the thousands of new inhabitants, as well as local and foreign dignitaries.”

The curtain parted, displaying the city amidst a show of fireworks. “With improvements in solar and wind-harvesting technology, nearly thirty percent of the city’s energy is created by solar panels and wind farms on and around the structure. The remainder is generated by a secure nuclear plant beneath the foundations. To offset building costs and local taxes, any excess in produced electricity is sold to nearby Boulder.”

The curtain closed a final time, and the narrator bowed. “Thank you for joining us today. I do hope you enjoy the remainder of you visit in Flatiron City. Have a nice day.”

The narrator vanished and the lights came on. Mr. and Mrs. Hanaka stood and followed the other audience members through the exit.

Back at Hanaka Nippon, Katsuro sat down with his parents with a pot of lime-spiced green tea. “How was the historical society?” He asked.

His mother frowned. “I got the impression that they were trying to impress us with the host’s glorified vocabulary.”

Mr. Hanaka agreed, “I understood everything alright, but many of the companies involved in these buildings are clients of mine. Not everyone is going to be as well informed as I am.”

Katsuro smiled. “Welcome to America.”

Read Jack's Rant...

2005-11-11T22:24:00.000-07:00

Jack

March 9, 2099: Mr. & Mrs. Hanaka come to town.

2005-11-04T20:03:00.000-07:00

“What d’you want?” Katsuro blinked at the vid-screen on his wall.

James blinked back. “Just wanted to see if you were coming to the club tonight. Transient Sage is playing again.”

“I know she is.” Katsuro moved into his kitchen and started making a sandwich. “I might be there; my parents arrive in about an hour, but we may swing by to say hi to Rachel.” Katsuro was getting really irritated with James; he kept showing up to the club with those French girls who wouldn’t shut up. Two months was about all he could stand, and he didn’t care who knew it.

James knew. “Tiff and Shelly are busy tonight-”

“Learning to tie their shoes?” Katsuro cut in.

“No, they have a test in the morning, so they want to study.”

Katsuro put the meat and cheese back in his fridge and took a bite of his sandwich. “If the bimbos don’t show, then I definitely will.”

James smiled. “See ya there, then.” The screen went black; Katsuro rolled his eyes and checked his watch: 12:34 pm. His parents cab should arrive in the car park at 1:30.

“How long should it take to get there?” Mr. Hanaka asked the cab driver. He spoke with an accent that was not quite Japanese, but neither was it British.

That cabbie shrugged. “Usually takes an hour from the D.I.A. Just depends on how busy the garage is. On a bad day, we could be waiting two or three hours, but only if there’s an accident.”

Mr. Hanaka sat back. I-70 rolled by smoothly; afternoon traffic hadn’t started yet. Gazing out the window, Mr. and Mrs. Hanaka could see the great towers rising to meet the mountains off in the distance. When they first caught sight of the city, Mrs. Hanaka gasped. “I’ve never seen anything so big.”

Her husband agreed. They’d seen pictures, but the sheer size still boggled their minds. On their right, the mag-lev train zoomed past, leading the way as they turned onto Highway 36. The queue for the west tower car-park moved at a pleasant pace, giving the Hanakas only the briefest glimpse of environmentalist protesters halfheartedly calling, “Flatiron city is an abomination to the landscape,” as well as, “Flatiron City is an eyesore,” not to mention, “Flatiron City wastes valuable resources,” and let us not forget, “Flatiron City inhabitants are stupid.”

Across from the picketers were somewhat enthusiastic supporters of the nearly 23 old city, shouting back, “Flatiron City saves thousand of acres for wildlife,” as well as, “Flatiron City actually saves valuable resources,” and the less intellectual, “No, you’re stupid!”

Katsuro grinned from ear to ear as his parents stepped out of the cab. He gave them a giant hug as the cabbie pulled their luggage out of the trunk. Mr. Hanaka turned around, paid the driver, and then the three made their way to the hotel.

The Flatiron City Inn rested about midway up the west tower. It had a pleasant mountain lodge feel to it and the employees knew how to do their job efficiently. Consequently, it only took ten minutes to check in and move in to the room. (It would have been faster but a child played the classic elevator button prank forcing them to catch another lift.) After the Hanakas were satisfactorily settled, Katsuro took them up to the top level courtyard to the Hanaka Nippon Tea Gallery.

“This is it,” he said, turning on the lights and music.

Katsuro’s parents looked around, obviously impressed. “I’m glad to see your education has not gone to waste.” His father smiled, drinking in the atmosphere.

His mother engulfed him in a loving embrace. “We are so proud of you.”

They stayed only a few minutes because Katsuro didn’t want anyone to think he was opened. When they arrived at Katsuro’s flat, Mrs. Hanaka caught her breath. “I’ve never seen a mountain view so breathtaking.”

“That must be why it’s so expensive to live here,” Mr. Hanaka winked at Katsuro.

Katsuro just grinned. It wasn’t long until the three sat enjoying Haggis and the pricey view out the window.

Katsuro walked into the Azure Serpent at 9:45. Rachel noticed him walk through the door, put on her remix of Handel’s Messiah (she lengthened the entire thing as an “I need a break, but there needs to be music playing” song), and met Katsuro at the bar.

“Oi, Leon, gimme two pints o’ Stout,” she hollered.

Leon turned around and set two mugs on the table, but refused her money, motioning to Katsuro. She turned to her friend. “Beat you to it,” he grinned. “You’ll have to be quicker than that if you want to buy the first round.”

“Where are your parents?” she asked, sipping her Stout.

“Retired early. Jet lag.” Katsuro lifted his glass to his lips.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Rachel said as Katsuro swallowed.

“Shoot.”

“Well, you know, since I have a great deal of free time, I was wondering if I could work at Hanaka Nippon a couple days a week.”

Katsuro thought a moment. “I’ll have to check my books and see if I can afford to hire someone.”

“Oh, I don’t need to get paid-”

“I don’t expect my friends to work for me for free,” he winked. “I’ve been open eight months, business is picking up, I might be able to get you something.”

Rachel smiled. “Slick.” She took a deep swig of her drink. In the background, the Halleluiah Chorus blessed the dance floor. “That’s my cue.” Rachel carried her mug back to the stage, leaving Katsuro to enjoy the pseudo-classical music of Transient Sage.

July 7, 2099: To know without hearing

2005-10-28T17:12:00.000-06:00

Alison sat with her head in her hands, tears flowed off and on. She stood and paced, several hours had passed since she'd seen her mother. In a vain attempt to change her thought pattern she decided to wander the corridors of the St. Theresa Medical Center. She waited in line for coffee. The nurse and doctor in front of her were in the middle of a conversation and Alison couldn't help but overhear.

“It's always the worst feeling in the world.” the nurse said with pain in her voice.

“I know, and I don't envy Doctor Selens for having to deliver the news.” Alison couldn't take any more and didn't want coffee that bad. She resumed her wandering tour and soon found herself back in the family waiting room. Grabbing a copy of a gossip magazine, she sat down again to scroll through the pages and wait.

“Miss Few?” came a pleasant voice from a form standing in front of her. Alison stood instantly and found herself looking into the deep green eyes of an attractive young woman in scrubs, feeling reassured Alison smiled at her. The woman, who must have been very near Alison in age, turned toward the exit and motioned 'follow me'. They entered a hallway and started to turn a corner when Alison reached out a hand and stopped her.

“Nurse? Where are we going?” The young woman stopped and faced her.

“Actually, I'm not a nurse.” She extended her hand in introduction “I'm Doctor Selens.”

Alison fainted.

She woke up in a hospital bed, her head was throbbing and her mind was racing. All those typical thoughts one has in a waking dis-orientation. How, what, who am I?, what's going on? How did I get here? As she came to her senses she slowly pieced the events together.

And she knew without hearing, that her mother was gone.

March 9, 2099:Yay, Free Cinnamon Roll!

2005-10-28T08:12:00.000-06:00

Rachel closed her eyes, smiling to herself over the success of her new job. Janet, the owner of the Azure Serpent, was pleased to discover her business was climbing, Leon’s tips were through the roof, and Rachel only had to work once a week. Janet allowed gratuity for her house DJ, giving Rachel a great deal of spending cash in the expensive economy of Flatiron City.

As her thoughts drifted, the smile didn’t fade. Why should it? She knew she’d made the right career decision, even if it was hard. “There is nothing more satisfying than working hard at something you love,” her father always told her, “it’s true no matter what you are doing, whether it involves your career, a hobby, or your family.”

The image of her father holding her mother’s hand floated in Rachel’s mind as she drifted off to sleep. They were an incredibly happy family.

The next morning, Rachel decided to visit Katsuro at his apartment before his parents arrived. She leapt into E-lift 16 just as the doors closed, only to discover it was on the way down, and wouldn’t turn around for twenty floors. She got off at the next stop and tried to find an up-lift. Just as #15 rang a cheery “going up” bell, an advertisement for a German bakery caught Rachel’s attention. Ignoring the lift, she moved closer to the poster.

“Come to Ludwig’s Bakery. Fine pastries and sweet meats, hot coffee and friendly faces.” A kindly old man smiled at Rachel from the poster, holding a platter of delectable strudel. She smiled back, “I shouldn’t have skipped breakfast, now I won’t be able to surprise Katsu.”

She found her way easily, thanks to a handy map hanging next to the ad. “Welcome to Ludwig’s.” Rachel looked up to see the smiling man from the poster. He had rather thick German accent.

Rachel smiled at him, asking in German, “What’s special today?”

Ludwig beamed, “You speak German! I’ve had this shop for nearly two years and have yet to meet someone who speaks a language aside from English.” He shuffled around behind the counter for a minute, reached into a pastry case and grabbed a large cinnamon roll. “Very fresh,” he winked, handing it to Rachel. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?” Rachel asked, taking the roll.

“Chat with an old man for a while.”

Rachel grinned. “I would be delighted.”

Rachel and Ludwig sat down at one of the tables. “Where did you learn German?” he asked.

“Grammar school. My parents insisted on teaching me a second language when I turned six.”

“Do you speak any other languages?”

“French. Both were useful when I left London.”

Ludwig’s eyebrows shot up. “You lived in London?”

“I grew up there. Why is that surprising?”

“You speak German without an accent.”

Rachel took a bite of her roll. “This is good,” she commented. “My teacher was German; he refused to use English in class, so we learned proper pronunciation.”

“Wise man.” Ludwig nodded. “Why did you leave London?”

Rachel explained about her father’s friend in Paris who owned the club where she started her career. She was happily recounting the beginning of her tour when a rush of customers took Ludwig back behind the pastry case. Seeing that Ludwig would be busy for quite some time, she said “Adieu,” promised to return, and headed back to the E-lifts.

She reached the lifts, checked her watch, 6 pm. She’d better get back to the club, or she wouldn’t have time to prep for the night! “I hope Katsu shows up tonight,” she said under her breath. She had something important to talk to him about.

-Note from the Author: Sorry about the wait for a story. Since we missed last week, Gabe should have a story up today in addition to this one. We will resume out weekly posting. Thanks for your loyalty. Giles

March 3, 2099: "Welcome to Hanaka Nippon"

2005-10-14T10:17:00.000-06:00

“Who is this?” Aaron asked the Asian man making his tea.

“Who is what?” he replied with a thick London accent.

“The music, who performs this?”

“A friend of mine, she goes by Transient Sage.” The proprietor set Aaron’s tea on the counter. “Three fifty.”

Aaron handed the man a five. “Keep the change. My name’s Aaron, by the way.” Aaron extended his hand.

“Katsuro,” the man replied, gripping Mr. Pickett’s hand.

Aaron grabbed a seat and looked around. Silk paintings decorated the walls, which were designed to look like traditional Japanese walls, painted in deep reds and off-whites. The entrance was made entirely of glass, providing sunlight and a pleasant view onto the top floor courtyard. Aaron smiled, admiring Katsuro’s design.

Mr. Pickett dug his iPod out of his pocket and set it to browse. He punched “Transient Sage” into the search window and decided to redeem a couple of free downloads. The artist download page noted two new tracks available; “Beethoven’s 5^th”, and Mozart’s “Eine Kliene Nachtmusik”. Aaron grabbed them both.

“So how’d you here about my shop?” Katsuro asked, coming over to Aaron’s table.

“A classmate told me. A guy named James; he said you made the best tea in the city.”

Katsuro rolled his eyes. “So you go to CUF?”

“Yeah, I transferred last semester. What about you?”

“I graduated two years ago, when I was twenty.” Katsuro returned to his stool behind the counter.

“Where did you go?” Aaron asked.

“Oxford. I have rich parents who paid for it, but being smart didn’t hurt either.”

Aaron’s iPod started beeping at him. He looked at the screen, “Attention: Call Kelly. Dial Number?” Aaron said yes, waived to Katsuro and walked out the door just as Kelly picked up her line.

“I was wondering when you were going to call.” She said lightly. “Where are you?”

“I just walked out of Hanaka Nippon, the tea shop I told you about.”

“Oh yeah? How was it?”

“I don’t know, I’ll have to try some other teas before I make a decision.” Aaron looked up at the bright almost-spring sun. A chill breeze flowed through the courtyard on the top level of the west tower, forcing him to zip up his jacket.

“What are your plans for tonight?” Alison asked after a short silence.

“Study. I have a quiz tomorrow, and I want to be prepared.”

“Oh, you’re no fun……uh-oh, I have to get back to work!” She hung up before Aaron could say goodbye. He just laughed as he got onto the E-lift.

He rode up to the top floor and hopped a tram to the north tower, then took a lift down to his apartment where he tucked in to a small meal and his textbooks for the evening

Meet Jack

2005-10-07T12:47:00.000-06:00

Jack Moreland Lives in Flatiron City

Read his blog ... Flatiron Jack

January 8 & 9, 2099: Reminisce and the Morning After

2005-09-30T22:06:00.000-06:00

As the sun sank behind the mountains, painting the clouds in pink and orange, Katsuro and Rachel sipped their sake and reminisced. Katsuro told Rachel of his year in Tokyo before coming to Flatiron, and Rachel filled him in on the minor events of her life since leaving London.

“Do you remember Ty?” Katsuro chuckled.

Rachel grinned, “He said the two of us would never amount to anything, the way we dreamed and never really did anything. If I’d stayed in London, he might’ve been right, about me.” Rachel jabbed Katsuro in his ribs. “But I never got an allowance from my father.”

“Well, he was wrong about you. How much do you make now?”

“Fifty thousand dollars a year.” Rachel laughed. “Is that how you measure success?”

Katsuro shook his head. “Not at all; you have a broad fan base, and you enjoy what you do.”

“And connections to all the major clubs in Europe.” Rachel poured herself more sake and asked, “And how much do you make, not including daddy’s allowance?”

Katsuro thought a moment, doing the math in his head. “Somewhere between 10 and 15 thousand dollars.”

Rachel nearly choked. “That’s all? How do you pay your bills?”

“’Daddy’s allowance.’” They both laughed.

When Rachel left that evening, the pair felt satisfied that they’d renewed an old friendship. But when Katsuro went to bed, the only thing he could think about was the letter from his mother. My parents are going to visit, he thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

The next morning at Hanaka Nippon, a gentleman walked through the doors to stare at Katsuro. Looking up, he recognized the man. “Cinnamon Apple again?”

“Oh, you remember me,” the man smiled. “No, I think I’ll have some china green tea.” The man paid for his drink and sat in the corner next to the entrance. “So why did you move to Flatiron City?” He asked, ignoring the paper in front of him.

Katsuro fixed himself a drink. “I flew to Colorado for some mountain relaxation, but when I landed I was so intrigued with the tower accenting the mountain view that I had to check it out. I fell in love and bought a condo.”

The man whistled. “You must have some bank account to buy a condo here; even the lower levels are expensive.”

“I live in Mountain View West.” Katsuro said casually.

The man’s jaw dropped. “And, do you own the store?”

Katsuro nodded. “My father is a rich man and provided for my future. I make a decent living here, but most of it comes from wealthy ancestry.”

Silence settled over the little shop, allowing Katsuro to search for a hotel for his parents while enjoying the soft jazz playing through the shop. He’d made an early morning call to London asking when they planned to visit, his father said early March.

The afternoon went quickly as Katsuro help customers between inquiry calls to in-city hotels. By 4:00 pm, he managed to reserve a room for March 9-18. He smiled satisfactorily as he looked around at the four customers enjoying their tea, and he decided to stay open late.

May 22, 2099 - On the way home

2005-09-22T16:30:00.000-06:00

Aaron stood at the Light-Rail station at the Auraria Campus. The music in his ears faded and he heard a pleasant female voice say ‘Alison is calling. Answer?’

“Yes” aloud, and with a grin spreading across his face. “Heya, what’s happening?”

“Not much, just taking a break and I thought I’d call you. Can you go Vid?”

“Yeah, sure.” and followed it with “Command, visual” as he pulled his iPod from it’s belt clip and aimed the screen at his face.

“Where are you?”

“Remember that lecture on mental computing that got postponed?”

“Oh yeah, at Auraria, right?”

“Yeah, well, the guy’s way behind the times so I bailed at intermission. And now I’m about to get on that, and come home,” and he pointed the iPod at the approaching Light-Rail.

“Ooh, fancy, an ML.”, referring to the Maglev train that she could see on the display in her office, “I didn’t know they had the tracks completed through Downtown yet.”

“Well, they do, and this is the Flatiron Express so I’ll be there in fifteen minutes tops.” And he stepped on through the open doors.

Their conversation continued as Aaron stared out the window of the speeding train, US-36 lay twenty feet below him and the lines of traffic blurred into a rainbow. The foothills approached rapidly, as though the train was diving straight into them, and then they suddenly became parallels as the tracks took the train north, toward Flatiron City. Alison’s break was over, pixels changed on the screen of Aaron’s iPod, and the music returned to his ears.

The train slowed in a corner as it left the highway to cozy up to Flatiron Parkway. The three interconnected towers of the Flatiron City reached far into the sky above, and Aarons’ eyes followed their sleek curvature upward until the sun shone too brightly for him to continue. The Maglev abandoned the sun-lit parkway for the massive, fiber-lit, underground parking structure beneath the city. He stepped from the train into the lights of the Flatiron-West Park-n-Ride, headed for the lift, level zero, and rose into the city.

The lights in the lift changed color as it passed upward through each section of the tower, and the wall display showed its’ progress in an animated diagram. Aaron stared absentmindedly at an advertisement for ‘Sub-Zero @ The Colony’ and his mind wandered back down the lift-tube, past the parking structure, to The Colony. A recent addition to the city, The Colony was an entertainment complex buried below the parking structure, and Sub-Zero was the hottest club underground. Aaron had never bothered visiting, but stowed the club in the corner of his mind as a potential date.

The lights in the lift turned a lemony yellow, bringing his thoughts back up through the tube to the 218^th floor. At the 220^th floor the doors opened and Aaron stepped into the nine-story lobby of the Aspen Ridge Apartments. The atrium glowed gloriously in the golden rays of the afternoon sun. Weaving his way along the path, through a grove of aspen trees, he noticed that the escalator to the third level was closed; he would have to take the stairs. At the second level he paused to chat with Peter, the friendly mechanic he often saw fixing one thing or another. He turned left from the L3 landing and mentally counted the doors as he passed them. Stopping at twelve, he touched the biometric scanner, sighed in unison with the hiss of the door, and was home.

January 8, 2099: Sunsets & Sake

2005-09-15T20:30:00.000-06:00

“Dear Katsuro

How are you doing, son? Is business going well? I do hope so.

Your father has received another raise; he restored the mainframe to a multi-national corporation who’d left their previous comp-tech firm for destroying said mainframe. To celebrate, we are going to come visit you! We will discuss details when next I call.

The Millers tell me their daughter took a job in a bar where you live, and I remember how much you enjoyed spending time with Rachel, so I thought I would let you know so you could try to find her.

I know I could have told you all of this over the phone, but I knew you would enjoy a letter from me. I’ve also enclosed a bottle of your Aunt’s sake.

We will see you soon. Love,

Mother.”

Katsuro smiled as he stuck the letter up on his fridge. It’d been over two years since he’d seen his parents.

After he moved to Flatiron City, he became too busy to get back to London, setting up his home and supervising construction of his shop. He took his time, of course; no need to wear himself out with a steady allowance from dad. But he insisted on checking progress every day.

Mr. and Mrs. Hanaka tried to get to Flatiron for the Hanaka Nippon grand opening, but a minor emergency came up, canceling the trip.

Katsuro stored the bottle of Sake his mother sent him and settled down at the “bar” for some fresh sushi. He’d just taken his first bite when the phone rang. Swallowing quickly, and nearly choking, he answered, “Tell me something good,” he sputtered.

Rachel laughed through the receiver. “You ok, Katsu?”

“Yeah,” Katsuro tried to regain control over his vocal chords. “I’m only choking on raw shrimp!”

Rachel chuckled again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to kill you.”

Katsuro finally stopped choking. “No worries. So what’s up?”

“Not much, I just thought I’d see what you were up to.”

“Just eating. I don’t have any plans for tonight, you wanna come up? My mom sent me some ‘Mitsuko Sake.’”

“I love that stuff! How do I get there from the club?”

Katsuro swallowed bite of his dinner. “Take E-lift 16 up ten levels, then follow Mountain View Walkway through the courtyard to MV Residential district 3. Take the Elevator to the fifth floor. I’m number 1563.”

“Number 1563,” Rachel repeated. “Got it, I’ll be right there!”

“See you soon,” Katsuro smiled, hanging up the phone. He checked his watch, 4:34, pm.

An hour later, Katsuro heard a knock on his door. “It’s open!” He hollered. Rachel walked in, grinning warmly.

“Sorry it took so long, I got hungry, so I grabbed a snack on the way.” She walked past the kitchen into the sitting room where Katsu sat reading a Japanese novel. “I got you a baguette.”

“Thanks.” Katsuro marked his place in his book and got up. “Let’s head upstairs.”

“Sure thing,” she followed Katsuro up the spiral staircase into the loft.

The sat down on the black leather sofa, facing the west wall. Katsuro picked up a large remote, pushed a button, and a metal blind opened revealing the mountains view, filling the entire west side of the room.

“Wow,” Rachel gasped.

As she stared at the beautiful sunset, Katsuro handed her a warm sake from the glass coffee table. “Kanpai,” he saluted.

“Cheers,” Rachel replied.

April 17, 2099: A Better Day

2005-09-07T20:56:00.000-06:00

Alison Few sat at her desk sipping on Zhang’s Diet Wakeup Juice. She divided her time equally between the paperwork on top of her desk and the binoculars she often kept hidden in it. Looking out over the vast and open interior space of Flatiron City, she paused briefly on another office’s window, passed over the Lacrosse scrimmage in the arena far below, and stopped with great interest at a young man hanging from a support column a few floors down and about a third of the way across the gap. He was wearing coveralls cut-off at the shoulder and was seated solidly in a harness. “Definitely not a jumper’ she thought to herself. She paid no attention to what he was doing, instead focusing on the rippling biceps and what she considered to be a dreamy Eastern European face under a simple Caesar haircut. She was wondering what part of the city he lived in when her thoughts were interrupted. The door to her small office rattled with the knock that she knew belonged to her boss Steve.

“Come in.” She croaked loudly as she slammed the binoculars into the wrong drawer, unknowingly smashing her stash of Oreos into hundreds of little pieces.

“Hey Alison, didn’t meant to startle you. Here’s this weeks expiring contracts list, make the calls, offer ‘em ten percent off first month. We lost a few to the ‘other guy’ last month and, well, the big boss. Yeah, you know. Well, I’ll stop rambling and let you get back to those binoculars, I mean, umm, reports.” And Steve left the room smiling over his shoulder at Alison’s dumbfounded stare. She opened the drawer and moved the binoculars into her purse, determined not to ever get caught with them again, not at work at least. Her boss knew! She reached to shut the drawer and her day went from bad to worse at the sight of Oreo crumbs smashed into the cover of The Grapes of Wrath. Four-thirty was most definitely a long way off.

By Four-twenty-one. Alison had had it, she lost three more contracts to ‘the other guy’ and two to some mom and pop operation she’d never heard of before. She had a run in her hose, the boss knew about the binoculars and the Oreo crumbs had not only ruined The Grapes of Wrath, but also her as-yet-unread issues of both It Takes Two and Dance World. She was leaving nine minutes early and she didn’t care who knew, besides, she had to make a stop at M3Media on the way home, stupid Oreos.

She burst through the apartment door, threw her replacement books onto the coffee table, and was changed into sweats almost before her mother could say hello.

“Ali-hon. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Good, is it chocolate?”

“Oh, honey, did you have a bad day?” The response was muffled by the chocolate-drop in Alison’s mouth, but it sounded something like ‘Mmph young guy, mhmhph boss, binocshmp, stupid Oreos!’ Tears followed, and between the two of them they drained a bottle of Teastone Vineyards 2067 Chardonnay. As she crawled into bed at a very early eight-o-clock, Alison couldn’t help but hope for a better day tomorrow.

A medium sized mug of black tea sat on the table against the wall. Aaron Pickett sat behind it, watching the steam rise and imagining that it was in synch with the light touches of Transient Sage that emanated from the walls. A few forms crossed the teahouse beyond the steam. Outside, beyond the glass, others bustled along the walkway. One of the forms caught his eye and he stood, forgetting his tea. Aaron was almost running when he turned and offered a ‘peace’ sign to Katsuro while backing out the door into the cool mountain air.

“Alison!” She had one foot in the tram before she turned to see who had called her name. She blushed a smile at Aaron and mimed a ‘call me’ as the doors closed on the E-train, 8:50 A.M. It was still early and the day was already looking good.

Aaron and his impeccable sense of timing walked into the lobby of Mountain City Home Services five minutes before lunch. Alison looked at him through her open office door, and over the top of her glasses.

“I thought I told you to call me.” She said, her smile betraying the serious voice with which she said it.

“Well, if you’re gonna be that way about it, then I might have second thoughts about buying you lunch.”

“No you wont.” She smiled. “So where are you taking me?” she asked, looking back at her display and feigning disinterest.

“Boulder, Pearl Street to be exact.”

Aaron spoke of the classic out-door mall as though it were McDonalds, but they both knew it was to be a special afternoon. The shops and restaurants of Pearl Street drifted past and Alison could barely feel the cobblestones beneath her feet. She stayed an hour late at work to make up for the two-hour lunch, and practically floated into the apartment that evening, glowing visibly. Her mother smiled. It had most definitely been a better day.

January 5, 2099

2005-08-30T13:17:00.000-06:00

People passed by the Hanaka Nippon tea gallery, trying to get out of the cold. Katsuro showed no surprise as he watched out the window on this particular Monday, for it was January. A well-dressed young man walked up and stared at the “open” sign hanging in the door. “You have to push to come in,” Katsuro smirked to himself. After a minute of indecision, the man entered. “I don’t have coffee.” Katsuro smiled.

The man stared, a look of surprise on his face. His mouth opened as if to spit out words, but they just didn’t come, so he closed it again. Katsuro rolled his eyes. “Yes, I have a London accent, I grew up there, now do you want something, or are you just trying to get out of the cold?”

The man blinked several times, and coughed. “I’m sorry, yes. I would like,” he paused to gaze at the menu, “a cinnamon apple herb infusion.” The man smiled, a smug smile as if his choice should’ve impressed the proprietor.

Katsuro smiled back, a sarcastic smile, as if to say he couldn’t care less what the man ordered. “That’ll be two-fifty-three.”

The man paid and sat at a table in the corner, sipping his hot tea and smiling to himself. “How long have you worked here?” The man asked after a couple minutes.

“Since it opened six months ago. I own the place.” Katsuro flipped through the pages of a tea catalogue.

The man pulled out a newspaper. Katsuro checked his watch, 4:30. Suddenly, James burst through the door. “Man it’s cold out there!” James pulled off his gloves. “Katsuro, man, there’s gonna be an awesome DJ down at the Azure Serpent tonight. You comin’?”

“Only if you’re not.” Katsuro replied, sounding serious.

James just laughed and ordered a white tea. James was a student at CU Flatiron, but Katsuro knew him from the club. They got along well, mostly because they understood each other’s sense of humor. After James left, Katsuro decided to close up.

Back at his condo, he put together a meal of leftover Steak and Kidney Pie and “Salad Fixin’s”. Donning a flashy silk shirt and nice black slacks, Katsuro left for the club. He knew the DJ, Transient Sage, and he wanted to show off his lifestyle a bit.

Normally, the Azure Serpent didn’t bring in live music; they opened as a club to socialize on an intellectual level, so they only played background music. The patrons loved the concept, especially Katsuro. However, this kept most of the students away, since they only wanted to get laid, and deep conversation greatly eliminates most of their chances. As it turned out, most students didn’t like Transient Sage either, which is why the A.S. decided to bring her in. Most of her music consisted of Classical symphonies mixed over D&B, Jungle, Trance, Chillout and House beats.

Katsuro looked around the club as he walked in; James sat in a booth with a couple French girls from campus, Transient was bobbing her head to “Brahms Lullaby”, and a great deal of young rich people from the upper levels gazed down from the balcony at the “normal folk” dancing to the Sage’s genius. Katsuro closed his eyes for a moment, drinking in the ecstasy flowing from the sound system.

A moment later, he walked over to the bar. “Oi!”

Leon, the bartender, turned around and smiled. “What’s up, Cool Kat?” Leon thought he was a beat-nick, he also thought punning Katsuro’s name was clever. Katsuro agreed, most of the time.

“Get me a pint of Stout,” Cool Kat said. “And send a warm sake over to the DJ.”

“Sure thing, man,” Leon winked. “She’s been gettin’ drinks since eight, though.”

Cool Kat looked at his watch; 9:30. “What have they been sending her?”

“Martini’s or beer.”

Katsuro grinned. “Transient will know who sent it, and she’ll drink it too.” Grabbing his pint, Katsuro slowly made his way over to James’ booth. Mozart’s “Divertimento in D Major” eased over the room over a light House mix.

“Hey Katsuro, you made it!” James motioned the girls over to make room for Katsuro. “You remember Tiff and Shelly?”

Katsuro nodded. “You’re French right?” He asked, not expecting an answer. In the underground lake atmosphere of the club, they almost looked attractive, but he’d met them in his shop once and found them quite ugly.

Tiff and Shelly started prattling to James in French, leaving Katsuro to his thoughts. After twenty minutes, Shelly, a prissy little blonde-haired person, said she wanted to dance. Tiff echoed the desire and they scooted out of the booth.

James said he’d join them in a minute. “Are you okay?” he asked Katsuro.

Katsuro opened one eye and glared at James. “Jimmy, if you don’t get rid of them, I’ll make them leave.”

The smile faded from Jimmy’s face. “I just thought-”

“I don’t care what you thought. They’re ugly, ignorant, and arrogant. And they won’t shut up!”

“They like the DJ,” Jimmy argued. “And they’re not ignorant; they just don’t share the same interests you do.”

Katsuro closed his eye again. “Just get rid of ‘em. They’re pissing me off.”

“Fine.” James got up and walked down to the dance floor.

Less than two minutes later, the music stopped and a silvery English voice came over the PA, “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming out tonight, I’m gonna take a short break, but the show will continue in about thirty minutes.”

Katsuro sipped his Stout, sitting up as the DJ walked up to his table and sat down.

“Katsuro Hanaka, you rich debacle. What are you doing here?”

“It’s nice to see you too, Rachel.” Katsuro grinned.

“Katsu, wow. Only you would send me warm sake! You living here now?”

Katsuro nodded as he swallowed. “I own a tea shop on the top level pavilion. Music thing treatin’ you well?”

“Yeah, I make a decent living. I toured Europe for almost a year, and I spent the last year and a half flying between clubs in New York and L.A. I heard about this place from an art student. Sounded like my kind of place so I called the owner.”

“You in town long?” Katsuro asked.

“Actually, the owner of the club is letting me stay in the apartment in the back. He’s paying me to play for the house once a week. I’ll keep the gig until I get restless. Sales are doing well so I can afford to stick around.” Rachel sipped her drink. “So, how long have you been here?”

“’Bout a year. When I left Tokyo, I decided to check out the tower cities here in the states. I liked it here so much; I bought a penthouse in Mountain-View West.”

They sat and talked for a few more minutes, and just as Rachel got up to return to her stage, James returned to the table. “I got rid of the girls,” he glared at Katsuro.

Katsuro chuckled. “You did us all a favor.” He motioned to the DJ, “This is Rachel, a friend of mine from London.”

James shook Rachel’s hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

Rachel returned to work, promising to catch up with Katsuro after the club closed. James and Katsuro sat at their booth enjoying the music and the fine beer on tap.

Welcome To The City

2005-07-09T15:26:00.000-06:00

Welcome to Flatiron City.

September 15, 2014, Washington D.C. - A small group of government officials will be meeting tonight to discuss the future of Urban Planning in our country. They have yet to reveal what they will be discussing, but updates will come as we gain information. Be sure to return here periodically for the latest in this new developement.

One thing you can be sure of is this will forever change how we live.