Naga Fireballs – Gas or a Real Dragon?

Image courtesy of Bing Images Creative Commons – 10 Potentially Paranormal Examples of Spook Light Phenomenon -Naga …

Today, at work, I received a bit of a geography lesson from a co-worker. She is from Thailand. I guess, from what I could make out from what she was saying, next month holds a significant festival for her country. It is really difficult to understand her sometimes, as her accent is very thick.

She spoke about the Naga Fireballs that are seen on the Mekong River. From what I learned, it is one of those unexplained phenomena that people flock to see every year. Scientists say it is something they haven’t actually explained. Some say it has to do with gasses trapped below the surface, others say that it doesn’t really explain how the sparks are made. Nor how they can shoot up into the air from below the water’s surface.

English: Wayang kulit figure, representing a d...
English: Wayang kulit figure, representing a dragon, naga Nederlands: Schaduwfiguur. Wajangfiguur van karbouwenhuid, voorstellende een draak Unknown language: naga Wayang kulit (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I like the dragon theory. If dinosaurs existed at one time, why not dragons? We’ve read fairy tales about knights killing dragons to save the princess. These type stories are found in many of the different European countries. Why couldn’t they exist?

I know, I’m grappling at tales.

But think about it, we have the paranormal phenomena – unexplained. Then there’s Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster. Why not a dragon? It could be listed as the last dragon in the world.

English: Loch Ness Monster
English: Loch Ness Monster (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Have you ever seen a ghost? I know I witnessed a ghost presence many years ago. I believe they’re real. Especially after what I saw happen. When a radio, from back in the ‘80’s with a dial tuner changes channels while the radio is tilted up in that direction, then you know something is not right. Gravity should have been stronger – right?

That’s what happened to me and my first husband in our first apartment. He put the radio on an oldies station – playing 60’s music, and the station changed to classical music all on its own. He went over to the radio three times that night to fix the position. After the third try, he decided to jack one end of the radio up, thinking possibly that the floor was warped. When the tuner dial moved to that channel once again, even though gravity said it shouldn’t, we knew someone had to have had helped it change.

He then went around the room yelling at whoever, that had been changing his radio station that they needed to change it back. He would only agree to listen to classical music before going to bed, but he wasn’t ready to do that just yet.

Surprisingly, the station was returned to his exact channel by whoever handled changing it in the first place. My first encounter with a ghost.

Turns out, an old lady burned to death in that house back in the 1800’s. I hear she loved classical music.

 

ROW80 Check-In:

I haven’t done much work on that wip since Sunday. That was when I had written over 1k words. I’ve been a bit stuck with how to get the character from point A to point B in the plot. If something doesn’t change fast, she is going to appear to be a stalker. I don’t want that.

I did a bit of brainstorming with another co-worker today. She gave me a pretty good idea which may allow me to use a scene that I had cut from the manuscript. I now keep all parts I cut out in hopes of finding a way to recycle that scene. This means the word count may go through a big jump this weekend.

Having co-workers like mine, make it worthwhile to have a full time job and write at the same time. They are full of ideas, and sometimes their little lessons from their homelands can lead to other ideas as well.

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Just a Note: Short Story – Flash Fiction

It might be just a note, but I wonder why it was so important to her. Maybe this could be the beginnings of a future romance. Hmmm….

The denim fabric of a jeans
The denim fabric of a jeans (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

She swallowed hard before washing down the fried egg she was eating. “You have the note with you? I wrote a list on the back of it. I need it back. I have to go to the store to pick up more dog bones.” Kendra checked her black T-shirt, hoping she didn’t drop any of her breakfast on her shirt or blue jeans. Her brown hair hung just above her eyes. She’d need another hair cut in about a week when it would start poking her in the eyes once again.

“I threw it out,” Randy explained. “I didn’t think it was important. Why would you write your shopping list on the back? People use post-it notes for that.” He’d driven all the way from Plattsburgh to listen to her complaint about a stupid note. Maybe he should get on with it and break up with her. Their relationship wasn’t ever going to go anywhere anyway. Who was he kidding? All she cared about was her dogs. They always seemed to come first in her life.

“You threw it out?” Kendra dove for the trash bucket. She needed that note, not just the list. That note had the password to her account. That’s the last thing she needed a trash picker to get their hands on. What the hell was he thinking? Throw the thing away – gad.

Before Randy could stop her, she had the entire contents on the floor. Nowhere was there a note to be found. “Kendra, listen to me. You’re nuts. Look at you. The note isn’t there.”

“You said you threw it away.”

“I did. But it’s gone.”

“It can’t be. I just saw it this morning.”

“Oh, that note. It’s here.” He held up a little brown paper bag, out of her reach. “Tell me you love me.”

“Randy, give that to me now!”

“Nope, not until you tell me you love me.” He continued to dangle the bag above her head, out of arms reach.

“Randy! I got to have that note!”

“Fine!” He tossed the bag across the room, away from her. “That’s it, we’re done. Don’t bother calling me.” Randy pocketed his car keys from the table, snatched up his jacket from the back of the chair, and let the screen door slam behind him.

Kendra sat on the floor holding the note she pulled from the bag. The slam of the screen door, bringing her to her senses. It was too late. Randy had already driven away.