Post B7qHJL7vMEKpWJhDTk by michelestrider@mastodon.social
(DIR) More posts by michelestrider@mastodon.social
(DIR) Post #B7LdhXNQMrUN5vtFqq by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
"It is impossible to escape the impression that people commonly use false standards, and measure power, success, and wealth for themselves and admire others for them, while undervaluing the truly precious things in life."You smugly hit Post, confident you've tooted out another banger, sure to earn tens of likes.You scroll past Linux tips, cat pics, and dad jokes on your favored decentralized microblogging social network. You see a blank post from an anonymous user. It has a poll, no context:
(DIR) Post #B7fu0U9lJw4XUqzsga by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
You click the "Cowboy hat" option. It's fun to participate, even when you don't know what's going on.You scroll your usual feed of Star Trek memes and otter videos. You check your post for likes and consider starting your own mysterious poll.The doorbell rings. You open your porch camera app. There's no video of anyone coming or going.There is a package.You open it to find a buffalo felt Stetson. It fits like it was made for you. There's a notecard, with a phone number, URL, and QR code.
(DIR) Post #B7fu0UNwTDPmCpdCmu by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
You double-check your antivirus software, then type the mystery URL into your laptop browser.The Geocities-looking website contains a single image: you, wearing the hat. You don't recognize the location. It's not your living room or any place you've been or seen before.You click around the image, hoping for a link or metadata or something. Nothing. You do an image search. Nothing. You unmute your speakers. A MIDI version of "Home on the Range" plays.Suddenly, your electricity goes out.
(DIR) Post #B7fu0UaLj5L6pJR77w by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
You hunt around for your new candle. Soon, the scent of tobacco and leather fills the room. You expected vanilla.You go to the bedroom and set your candle and hat on the nightstand.You pick up a moleskine notebook and gel fountain pen. "Mindful people journal," you tell yourself.Outside, a firecracker pops. Darn kids.A voice shouts, "Hang 'em high." Must be power company linemen.Folks with flaming torches pass by your window.You peer out onto the moonlit front yard.There's a horse.
(DIR) Post #B7fu0UlL4E87NOZtFw by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
You set down your journal and slap your hat back on your head. You're going to pet a horse!You ease out of the front door, so as not to startle the animal. It walks over and nuzzles you with its muzzle.It wears a beautifully tooled saddle and bridle embossed with the name "Lily." You formally introduce yourself as she sniffs you for treats. It's the best.In the distance, the mob has lit a bonfire. A voice yells, "Daggum varmint!" A shadowy figure gallops down the street on a black steed.
(DIR) Post #B7fu0UvyQgdXuNYNpg by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
It takes a few tries, but you get yourself up into the saddle. Lily is a patient horse."Giddyup?" you ask her. It works. You and she are off in pursuit of the dark rider.You race through the neighborhood so quickly, you barely have time to notice that the streetlights are out. Fortunately, there are no cars on the road.You catch sight of the dark rider as they jump a tall wooden fence. You thought the HOA banned those.Lily stops short of the fence, turns her head, and gives you a look.
(DIR) Post #B7fu0V9RcbPca9r8pU by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
You decide to trust Lily and not try the steeplechase. You ride down the fence line until you find an accommodating gate.You dismount to open it and see it's decorated with burned-in cattle brands. The HOA balked when you painted a Warriors logo on your own curb. (movie, not basketball.)The fence surrounds an oversized lot, with a single two-story farm-style house. The rest of the neighborhood is strictly mid-century modern.In the darkness, a horse gallops. A cow lows. Torches approach.
(DIR) Post #B7fu0VKQxkCd8EzuxU by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
Since the mystery rider's path leads away from the torches, you go that way. After only one mis-mount, you're off.Lily is fast and focused. Soon, you hear the mystery horse. You're closing in.You hear a splash as the rider crosses a stream. Lily follows. Your feet get wet down to your socks.Suddenly, the rider turns on you. The mystery horse rears up on two legs. A woman's voice shouts, "Who goes there? You the law?""No." You're not on the HOA board."Then how come you're followin' me?"
(DIR) Post #B7fu0VVQIszdgK8h5U by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
"I was scrolling Mastodon and...""What kinda language is that?" She looks wary."Probably HTML, CSS, Ruby on Rails, Node.js, and PostgreSQL.""You some kinda ejit? And what're you doin' with my horse?""Lily?""I'm Lily. The horse is Steve. You really are plum ejit, ain't ya''?""I've been called worse," you admit. "Nice to meet you, Lily. Sorry for stealing and misgendering your horse. Sorry, Steve.""You sure talk funny, but I guess you're OK. Nice hat. Why's that posse chasing you?"
(DIR) Post #B7fu0VhpYkuyInwbQW by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
"They're chasing you. Why?" you ask."I robbed a bank.""That's where the money is.""I mean the Bank family. Them're his cousins.""Do they own the bank?""They're farmers, regular like. I just don't happen to like 'em.""How much money could a farmer have to steal?" you wonder."None. But I took all his britches and set fire to 'em.""Your ex?""My sister's. Got me a whole plan.""Well, good luck wi...""You stole my horse. You owe me, buddy. Now, you wanna be the lookout or bait?"
(DIR) Post #B7fu0VtAsZzYrzFf6m by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
"I prefer to defer to Steve on that," you punt.You both look to Steve. He snorts."Bait," it's decided. "Y'all're gonna ride straight through them torch boys. Don't worry. They'll scatter like a buncha chickens. Grab you up sumthin' of theirs. When they start to chasin', y'all head 'em my way.""And then?" you almost hesitate to ask."Just leave 'em to me."You and Steve race off and plunge into the mob at top speed. As predicted, they panic and flee. In the chaos, you reach down and grab
(DIR) Post #B7fu0W4sB5LjSGj0LI by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
You wave your prize over your head -- a long, black umbrella -- taunting the crowd. Fewer react than you might've hoped. In fact, it's just one guy who keeps shouting, "My brolly, good sir! My brolly!" like some fancy Masterpiece Theater chap.Holding the 'brella like a lance, you charge at the scattered men, jousting hats off heads.Finally, someone yells, "Get 'em, boys!"You gallop off, followed by hatless men.You reach Lily and her trap: a well-disguised hole full of unspeakable things.
(DIR) Post #B7fu0WGDUuQK1S241Y by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
You accept that you're not riding Steve; Steve is carrying you. You release the reins. It's in Steve's... hands? now.You approach Lily's trap at a run. Steve leaps into the air like a four-legged, half-ton ballet dancer.Halfway through his arch, you realize why you shouldn't have dropped the reins.You fall into the hole of unspeakable things. Bank boys tumble on top of you.Using the umbrella, you battle your way out.You search for Lily and Steve, but don't see them -- only angry Banks.
(DIR) Post #B7fu0WSckmLedvpyMa by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
You jog your sloppy way back to the farmhouse, hoping to learn how you, too, can have less HOA interference in your life.You're surprised no lights pop on as you step onto the porch. You wave at the doorbell camera, but there isn't one. There's not even a doorbell. You knock on the solid wood door. Antique. So hip.You admire the oil lamp in the window as you wait for someone to answer.From deep inside, a voice yells, "Come in." You push the heavy door open and enter. There's no one there.
(DIR) Post #B7fu0Wdy4bQFD7922q by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
You follow the voice down a long hallway. Saving electricity is laudable, but this is extreme. You truly cannot see your hand in front of your face. You trail your fingers along the wall to stay oriented.The voice never grows louder. Or softer. It must be some fancy whole-house PA system.The hall dead-ends. You feel a doorknob in front of you. And one to each side. You look over your shoulder, the way you came. The only light is a small dot impossibly far away."Come in," repeats the voice.
(DIR) Post #B7fu0WtZ8btnzURUMC by corbden@defcon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
@michelestrider I hate how I keep losing track of these things! Mastodon needs a track thread feature that notifies you when new posts are added.
(DIR) Post #B7fu0X86GZWciZF60m by mirabilos@toot.mirbsd.org
0 likes, 0 repeats
@corbden @michelestrider it does have one… for authors.For Michele’s, I go by the notification that the poll I voted in has ended. By the time I notice that, she’s posted the next one, and as a reply as well, so I can refresh my context by reading up a bit, then go down to the new question.Other authors… don’t make it that easy.
(DIR) Post #B7g49s66g1KztdOxbE by corbden@defcon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
@mirabilos @michelestrider That's what I usually do, but then if I miss the notification, none of the other new ones notify me. A thread notif would pop for each post in any kind of thread, even if it didn't have a poll.
(DIR) Post #B7g49sKzmfFOdoMqo4 by mirabilos@toot.mirbsd.org
0 likes, 0 repeats
@corbden @michelestrider yeah, I want to be able to subscribe to even just subthreads…
(DIR) Post #B7qHJKT9nnj1Tscew4 by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
After a quick eeny-meeny-miny-moe, you open the door in front of you. The voice beckons. You enter.There's a creaky sound, like one of those big wooden rocking chairs on the Cracker Barrel porch. Are those a thing now? You haven't seen the latest Wayfair catalog, given all of your new mindfulness and anti-materialism."Come closer," says the voice.Closer to where, you aren't sure. You take a step forward. A match flares. An ancient woman lights a corncob pipe."Why are you here?" she asks.
(DIR) Post #B7qHJKhKx54GBrFz2O by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
"I want to talk to you about the HOA.""Aitcho Way?" the old lady scoffs. "What's that?""H-O-A. The community organization...""Like The Grange?""La Grange? No, that's 'how, how, how.'""Right. How come you're here?""To ask how you got away with breaking the bylaws.""I ain't broke no laws," she spits."I mean, how did you skirt the CC&Rs?""What about my skirt? Quit yer foolin' and tell me what yer here for: potions, fortune-telling, moonshine, or jerky? Cuz that's what I got."
(DIR) Post #B7qHJKvs52h4uw3agy by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
"Fortune-telling," you decide.The old lady lights the lamp on the table next to her. "Set yerself down."You sit. The hardwood floor could be smoother. They may have taken the rustic thing too far."Drink," she gives you a china cup of swampy tea. You drink and hand it back. She holds it to the light to read the leaves."Says you struggle with decisions; yer never 100%. Avoid gamblers, clowns, and Geminis. Drink more water. Yer lucky number is 7. That'll be a dollar. I take coin and scrip."
(DIR) Post #B7qHJL7vMEKpWJhDTk by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
You hand the woman a crisp dollar bill, marveling at the low, low price."What the hell is that?" She refuses to touch it."A dollar." You shake your head. Digital payment systems have rotted people's brains."Ain't no dollar I ever seen. Dollars are round, got a fancy lady on 'em, and -- most important -- they're made o' silver. Now, gimme my money.""Sorry, this is all I've got.""Well, I guess you got a choice to make," the lady decides. "Either you work it off, or I call the sheriff."
(DIR) Post #B7qHJLOaMHf8LzUWRs by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 1 repeats
"I'm happy to work it off," you tell the old woman, thinking you might sweep the front porch or take her garbage cans down to the street. "Whatever you think is fair.""Well, wages in this town are a dollar a day," she begins. You didn't realize the local economy had gotten so bad. "But cuz I like yer hat...It is very flattering."I'll only make you do one chore. Now, you better at scrubbing floors, choppin' wood, washin' clothes, or muckin' out barns? Pick one and get 'er done by daylight."
(DIR) Post #B8D52ujLlYwSSywczo by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
You decide that chopping wood sounds amusing. Standing in the fresh night air, swinging your axe, and watching the wood split into neat wedges is therapeutic. Getting back to nature, the basics -- that's what's important.As you consider buying a wood stove, you hear hoofsteps. Lily rides up with Steve."Why're you workin' for Ol' Mrs. Bank?" she asks. You explain it all."Fortune-telling? That ol' grifter. Anyhow, there's a mess o' Bank boys headed this way. And we still got pranks to pull."
(DIR) Post #B8D52uv344Id3GPyEK by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
"The old lady isn't a real fortune teller?" You chopped almost a whole half a log for her. "I'll help you, but I need your help first.""Always happy to prank a Bank," Lily agrees. "But hurry!"Fouling someone's well would be too far. Stealing the bucket from the well, filling it with muck, setting it at the bottom of the porch steps, and yelling "fire" in the dark night seems fair.After a satisfying scream, you, Lily, Lily's horse (you must ask its name), and Steve race off for more pranks.
(DIR) Post #B8D52v6ONtNDcRj1ua by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
"Hey, I have a fun idea," you shout ahead to Lily. "What if we ran by my place first so I could shower off?""Ya' do stink," Lily yells back. "Follow me."You were already following her, so you keep going. Instead of pointing her horse (you really need to get its name) toward your house, she heads away from the light of the bonfire.You do not remember your subdivision having a decorative pond. And yet...Lily stops and dismounts. "Last one in's a rotten egg." She dives into the dark water.
(DIR) Post #B8D52vI5gOjOCjCN96 by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
You dive into the pond after Lily, the weight of your clothes slowing you slightly. It feels wonderful to wash off the unspeakable.Stars sparkle. The night air thrills your damp skin. You should do this more often. You float happily, humming R.E.M.'s "Nightswimming."The sound of angry men breaks the stillness. The torch boys have gathered along the shore, where you left Steve and Lily's horse. (You really do need to get that name.)In the darkness, you cannot see the far side of the pond.
(DIR) Post #B8D52vTR0DnyluVQpM by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
Deferring to Steve's superior competence, you watch to see how he handles the situation.He nods to Sarah (you finally asked), and both horses rear up, scattering the torch boys. The Banks are not as brave as they are loud. Several drop their flamey sticks and flee. The remaining ones seem less motivated than before and slowly wander off.Horses, of course, are very big. And torch boys are squishy.You and Lily splash out of the pond. The moon is high in the clear sky, the night air bracing.
(DIR) Post #B8D52vf8IjA9MBym3s by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
"These horses deserve a treat," you tell Lily. "What do they like? Cake?""We can take 'em to the Bank's apples. Let 'em go plum wild," Lily laughs.You ride through the fields, past a barn and pumpkin patch, into a well-kept orchard. You let the horses loose to eat their fill. You and Lily sit under a tree, bonfire light glowing in the distance. A bat circles above, as if watching you.The wind picks up, the temperature drops. Clouds gather. Thunder mumbles on the horizon. A storm's brewing.
(DIR) Post #B8D52vsxTKDo34Robw by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
You, Lily, and the horses run to the barn just ahead of the storm. Rain pelts the roof. Boards creak and sigh. The warm scent of hay envelopes you. It's cozy and incredibly dark. You turn on your phone flashlight, noting the low battery level.You explore carefully, trying not to reenact the "stepping on a rake" gag.You're surrounded by stores of apples and pumpkins. A wooden ladder leads to the hayloft. Empty horse stalls hold piles of fresh hay. Bats roost in the rafters. There's a chicken.
(DIR) Post #B8D52w64gYiIhkaI3U by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
You've never met a live chicken in person. (The HOA has strict rules against yardbirds.) You're a little star-struck.You don't know what sound to make to entice a bird, so you go with, "Here, birdie." That suffices. Soon, you're petting a tiny feathered head and loving it."We've got the place surrounded," a voice shouts outside the barn door. "Come out with your hands up."You peek through a crack in the boards. It's the Bank Boys. And they've brought the law -- The Homeowners Association.
(DIR) Post #B8D52wI7xkM3J8DuqG by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
"Is there a back door?" you ask Lily.There's a fluttering noise as the roosting bats descend in a flurry of leather wings. You blink and are surrounded by the most wholesome plaid-clad people you've ever seen."Who...?" you ask."That's not important," a ruddy older man dismisses the question, thumbs hooked in his overall straps. "We'll distract 'em. You run."The bats engage the HOA goons. You look back to see much flailing and squealing as you, Lily, and the horses escape into the night.
(DIR) Post #B8D52wTpGFiDtPhG4m by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
"Well," you say, watching the frenzy, "I could eat." There are nods all around.You make it back to your house without incident and park the horses in the garage with some fresh hay and a pumpkin to share.You're surprised to find the house already full of folksy plaid bat people, but they're serving apple pie and cider, so...You greet your guests and hang your cowboy hat on a doorknob. If you knew you were hosting a party, you'd have tidied up.You join Lily in the kitchen for pie and:
(DIR) Post #B8D52wfAa4moSb0Jl2 by michelestrider@mastodon.social
0 likes, 0 repeats
You sip the house special cider. It's thick, almost syrupy. In fact, it's the best thing you've ever tasted. And it's cool to watch your fingernails grow like that.You turn your attention to the pie. It's amazing. You shred the crust like a wood chipper."Howdy," Mr. Overalls approaches you, smiling. His teeth are surprisingly sharp. "Purty strong cider, eh?"A pumpkin sitting on the counter starts humming a soft tune."Like apple pickin'?" Overalls asks.Lily sighs, "Not again."The End?
(DIR) Post #B8D52wu3gihDClyCxs by mirabilos@toot.mirbsd.org
0 likes, 0 repeats
@michelestrider knew it would end like that with that option…