On My Own Time is a regional visual Arts and Literary contest organized by the North Texas Busines Coincil for the Arts and sposored by variousn companies across north Texas like Heritage Auctions . The contest is open to employees and their immediate families, and provides a fun venue for amateur and professional creatives to showcase their work.

These stories did not make the cut, but I thought you might enjoy them anyway:

The Man From A.R.S.E

By

Michael Morgan

            Thielgood Ipsik’s SUV bounced as he pulled into his driveway. A slender gentleman in a tailored suit stood on the stoop of his home, hands clasped behind his back, and giving every impression of being willing to wait as long as it took.

            “Mr. Ipsik?” The man extended his hand as Theilgood reached the top step.

            “Please call me Thell,” Ipsik cautiously shook the hand before accepting the business card. He glanced at the card, and his eyebrows crooked. “Mr. Uh…”

            “Lowery. Sam Lowery, from Acme Life Trust… Your insurance company?”

            “Oh!” exclaimed Thell. “I’m sorry, I saw the initials on the card, and…”

            Lowery gave a wan smile. “Acme Risk Stabilization Expert. A.R.S.E. Personnel has a sense of humor. In any case, I am here about the life policy on your wife.”

            Thell handed back the card, “I don’t understand. I paid on the first of the month.”

            Lowery extracted his phone from a pocket, “You did indeed, and we appreciate your diligence.”

            Thell unlocked the door, “Won’t you come in? I thought my wife was home.”

            “Mrs. Ipsik left shortly after I arrived,” Lowery stepped inside at Thell’s gesture of invitation. “I felt it more appropriate for me to wait for you outside.”

            “Have a seat.”

            “Thank you.” Lowery selected a wingback chair.

            Thell indicated the sidebar, “Drink?”

             “No, thanks.” Lowery lifted his phone again, “I’ll get to the point.”

            “Please.” Ipsik fell into the sofa, “What do you do for Acme?”

            Lowery met his questioning gaze, “My role is to mitigate risk for the company. The current political climate left policing “defunded.” Acme chose to mitigate the risks from increased criminal activity by leveraging an artificial intelligence called Global Liability Unification Technology.

            Sam saw his client’s eyes glazing and hurried on. “The system aggregates information from multiple sources and collates it into personal behavior profiles…”

            Thell sat up, “Is that legal? Don’t you need a warrant?”

            Lowery smiled, “We are not law enforcement Mr. Ipsik. In fact, you gave us permission in Paragraph 161c of your policy. It clearly explains your option to invoke your right to privacy, and expressly forbids Acme and our affiliates and subsidiaries from collecting any data related to you upon receipt of such demand in writing thirty-days in advance of you canceling your policies.”

            “Oh, er, um…please continue,” Thell sank back into the sofa.

            Sam finger-swiped his screen. “Our systems detected several behavior factors related to you that alerted us to an unstable risk profile.”

            Thell’s attitude became guarded, “What kind of factors?”

            Lowery swiped again, “We have noted a frequent and repeated coincidence where your phone signal has been detected in close proximity to a phone signal owned by one Jillian Latham every other Thursday at 3:00 PM. At the…”

            “Sunnyside Hotel in Clackamas,” Thell turned his palms up. “Yes, I know Jill, so what?         

We aren’t doing anything illegal.”

            “True,” Sam admitted. “But Mrs. Ipsik was also at the Sunnyside Hotel last Thursday at 3:00 PM. Since she did not stay long, I assume she was not joining you and Ms. Latham for…drinks.”

            “How is this any of your business?” Thell huffed.

            Lowery swiped again, “Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be, but events have occurred that require our intervention.”

            “Such as?” Thell’s sarcasm made Lowery look up.

            “Last week Mrs. Ipsik’s phone stopped at the location of a well-known divorce attorney, and approximately one hour later, a sum of money transferred from her account to his.” Sam consulted his screen again. “Apparently you learned of this last Sunday because contrary to your normal patterns, you departed this location and checked into the Sunnyside Hotel. You paid in advance for a week, where Ms. Latham joined you soon after.”

            Thell blew a raspberry, “Still doesn’t prove anything.”       

            Lowery shook his head, “It implies much.” Thell’s expression of protest died in the face of Sam’s raised hand. “Please tell me how you would interpret the following.” Sam used his unoccupied hand to paint with broad brushstrokes as he spoke. “A man uses his card in an expensive restaurant. It is not a holiday, his known spouse’s birthday, nor did it coincide with an increase in the bi-weekly deposit amount from his employer implying a raise or bonus. A second phone arrives at this location. Both phones stay the same amount of time, left at the same time, and traveled together to the location of a hotel where another charge is run on the same card used in the restaurant. On-Star corroborates the timing of these moves, and an unpaired Bluetooth signal is detected in the man’s car. This pattern repeats every Thursday for several years. After one such meeting, the card is used at a Megamart across town from the man’s residence.”

            Thell threw up his hands, “So what?!”

            Sam smiled. “Your presence here today, and the items purchased, provide some rather unsavory hints regarding your potential intentions toward Mrs. Ipsik. Therefore, I am officially notifying you that Acme Life Trust has cancelled the life policies on Mrs. Ipsik. We have also cancelled the policies on your automobiles, and the home located at this address. Now that your residence and vehicles are no longer covered by insurance, we have notified the lien holders on your home and vehicles that you are in breach of contract. We believe they have initiated actions to terminate your loans and repossess the collateral unless you are able to secure new insurance coverage by the end of this week.” Sam noted Thell’s hand edging toward the end table. “Rest assured, sir. The pistol and ammunition from that drawer left with Mrs. Ipsik. She wanted to avoid any accidents that might prevent her from collecting on the life policy she owns on you.”

            Thell glared silently as Lowery drive away. The next day the plastic tarps, duct tape, rope, cinder blocks, and several gallons of chlorine bleach were returned to Megamart.

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A Mindful Meal

By

Michael Morgan

“Mindfulness: Paying attention to the present moment with curiosity and non-judgement” ~ from a presentation by Karie Metzler, M.S.

As a long-standing student of meditation and Asian philosophy, I decided to explore “Mindful Eating” while experiencing a new food trend being promoted to reduce Global Warming.

The waiter arrives at my table to deliver a small, handless ceramic cup filled with a pale orange liquid. I take up the cup and try to swirl the liquid within. It is too thick to swirl, but tiny flecks of deep green, and red are apparent. I bring the cup to my nose and inhale the familiar aroma of Andalusian gazpacho. The mild flavor of the soup is everything I recall from my last visit to Spain. I set the cup back on the plate and await my next dish.

A crisp green salad is presented. Fresh spinach paired with arugula. Hair-like strands of red onion and roses made by delicate cuts in whole radishes. Everything lightly misted with a red wine vinaigrette. The color palette makes me eager to see what the chef has in store next.

The square box was centered on the rectangular plate. Two small bowls held sauces, and a pair of chopsticks completed the scene. I peered through the clear glass top of the box to select my first morsel. I took up my sticks in my right hand, and raised the top of the box just enough to reach beneath the edge.

Cricket wriggled between the sticks as I extracted it from the box. I had to take care not to apply too much pressure. The mindfulness program instructed us to take the time to examine our food. The near-black slickness of the carapace reminded me of expensive extra-dark chocolate. I took in the elegant, streamlined form of the body. Turning Cricket over, I could see the pulsing of the abdomen as its breath flowed.

Bringing Cricket to my nose, I tried to catch its scent. The sudden intrusion of antennae almost made me sneeze before I was able to sense a musty odor reminiscent of portabella mushrooms or fresh-ground truffles.

I touched Cricket’s face to my lips. The mandibles pinched my lower lip ever so slightly, as tiny claws on Cricket’s forefeet searched for purchase.

Opening my mouth, I placed Cricket on my tongue, quickly releasing the sticks and pressing the tiny body against the roof of my mouth to keep squirming to a minimum. A heavier perception of its scent permeated my sinuses as my own breath cycled. The crunch between my molars was softer than I expected, and I swallowed.

After cleansing my palate with a sip of rosé, my attention returned to the box.

This time a brilliant viridian grasshopper was brought forth. Choosing to forego the sauces once again, I brought the face toward my own. This time my intended decided to kick at the last moment, and I ended with its hind feet protruding from my lips. The barbs on the back legs were finding purchase against my lips creating a bit of discomfort as I tried to hold the grasshopper in place on my tongue the way I had held Cricket. Unsure of how to proceed in these elegant surrounding, I surreptitiously plucked the feet from between my lips bringing the hind legs with them. Each was deposited like a cherry stem on the edge of my plate. Grasshopper gave me a more pronounced crunch, and the flavor was similar to the smell of a freshly cut lawn or hot green tea.

The meal continued until the box was empty. The cicadas were too large for a single bite. Much like trying to bite an overly large cherry tomato. I was forced to resort to blotting my chin after the first one.

Pairing wine with an entomophagy repast is a skill I must work to develop.

The main course is coming. I can see the waiter carrying a silver plate with a sparkling crystal dome on it. I can feel my anticipation building as I recall the many years of tradition surrounding John Madden’s Thanksgiving Day turkey.

Finally, the waiter places the silver plate before me and I gaze longingly at the chef’s newest creation. Inspired by, and dedicated to, the rainforests of the Amazon Basin. Tarantula, Under Glass.