Martin sat in his kitchen looking dazed and confused. He coddled his warm mug of coffee in his hands and tried not to think about what was happening. Instead, he tried to think about what he was going to do at the weekend, but immediately felt uneasy. He tried to think of nothing at all and simply stare into space but he could not get the images out of his mind.
The first story on the website is ‘Dasein.’ I’ll put my cards on the table right away: I wrote this a while ago. Probably six years ago. I was trying to explore some philosophical ideas I’d been reading about and see if I could inspire myself to create something with them for academic purposes. Sadly, I never managed to come up with a really interesting discovery in that area, but I still think this is a fun story.
Sometimes it can be hard to tell when the present began. It seems easy to remember the past and plan for the future, but when does the current become just a memory? When do your visions of tomorrow have life thrust into them and become the immediate part of your linear existence? Is your experience just a series of present moments or is it the totality of all the moments past?
A Dasein is a being in the world. The Dasein recognizes the place one has in time and space: that all beings are linked together with their Universe, their Being. They are all part of the one. The Dasein will acknowledge his fate. He knows that he has no will of his own. He is a product of his environment and his Being. The Dasein must be authentic to himself or he will never be at peace.
I hope that this site will shortly see some activity in the form of stories. I hope to write one story each month. It’s not a strict schedule by any means and I may not publish entire stories in one go. I could go for a serialised format if it takes my fancy. It always adds a little excitement knowing that you can’t go back and edit something when you’re half way through a story (then again, the Internet makes anything possible).
For whoever reads this, my story is dedicated to you. You are likely to be one of a small number of people who will ever find these words, so I thank you for taking the time to do so and for keeping my characters alive.
’Ferguson… John Ferguson. Oh yeah…’ John was loving it. This was the smooth ride that could only come from a car that was inspected and tested by hand at every step of its manufacture. It handled like butter. Shaken or stirred? There would be neither in this vehicle. Everything was still and beautiful like a pond with no breeze. This was the car to end all cars. For John, it didn’t get better than this.
The wind blew through his hair as he flew on the clouds. Or, at least, it would have if his hair hadn’t been impervious to such things. He didn’t mind though because his cape had a nice flappiness about it which he had always found very appealing. He often wondered if the scientists on his home world had spent a lot of time perfecting such a wonderfully flappy cape, but that was silly.
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