MY SIDE OF SANITY COLLECTION
Sometimes we humans, and especially authors, wonder about their own sanity. Where do all of those stories come from? We all wonder about the minds that can weave a good tale and then draw the reader into their web before inflicting punishment in the form of bloodshot eyes and sleepless nights. Ronnie guarantees that this collection of fiction short stories will force you to reevaluate your mortality. In an instant, your life can transform from a normal human existence into a dream world controlled by The Dream Watcher, or even worse, by nature itself. This collection will remind all of us humans what can happen when we have a really bad day. The characters in the short stories from this collection have had more than just a bad day; they have had life-altering experiences.
As Amanda stepped through the door of the wide-bodied jetliner onto the Jetway, a cool refreshing breeze engulfed her. It was snowing outside and she felt a shiver flow through her body as the wind howled around the small-unsealed places where the Jetway met the side of the aircraft. As captain of this airplane, she had just completed a six-day shift of ferrying the plane between London and New York. As she walked up the Jetway, she felt her body relax a little.
Amanda had felt uncomfortable all week, as if something in her life was amiss. She did not understand the feelings, but understood that she needed to pay close attention to these deep foreboding feelings so they did not become depressive. Amanda knew this time was different from the times before, and something was definitely wrong in her life. She was certain of it, but she would have to be patient until the nature of the problem became obvious to her.
As she stepped into the main concourse and headed towards the ground transportation area of the airport, she smiled as a small boy stood and watched her walk. He stared at her with those young boy’s eyes, so impressed with anyone that could fly an airplane. Then she remembered that she, as a small girl, had also loved airplane pilots. She could remember watching the pilots coming off the planes after a flight, and dreaming of how she would love to fly. Amanda loved her job and could think of nothing she would rather do with her life than pilot these incredible flying machines. It made her feel giddy as she walked down the concourse and remembered her first solo flight.
That night, as Amanda crawled under the covers of her bed and opened the latest adventure novel she was reading, she suddenly had that same feeling that something was wrong creep up her spine, and it made her shiver. The feelings quickly slipped out of her conscious mind as she became lost in the novel she was reading. She read for about an hour, and then remembered that she needed to get up early tomorrow and decided she had better get some sleep. If she let herself, she could easily read until the radio alarm woke her. Four o’clock in the morning would be here soon enough, so she turned off the light, pulled the covers up over her ears and let the warmth of the bed overcome her thoughts until sleep came upon her.
Amanda’s dream started simple enough. She soon found herself piloting a jetliner over the English Channel that separates England from France. The plane, with 360 passengers and crew aboard was in an uncontrollable nosedive towards the water below. The dream (nightmare to be exact), gave Amanda no reason for the plane to be in such a horrible nose down position, but it was obvious even in the dream that something in this airplane had mechanically failed.
Amanda and her copilot tried desperately to pull back on the controls and get the plane’s nose pulled up. Their air speed was increasing at an alarming rate and they would plunge nose first into the channel below if they did not quickly right the wrong with this flying machine. The sounds in the cockpit were deafening, the bells, the chimes, and the voice of the planes warning system yelling verbal warnings in the pilot’s ears. “Pull up, pull up,” it screamed to no avail. However, nothing Amanda or her copilot did seemed to level out the flight pattern of the huge jetliner.
They now only had seconds left before it would be too late to save their own lives and the lives of their passengers from the impending doom. Amanda’s arm muscles were screaming with fatigue from pulling with all her strength on the controls of the aircraft, pulling, pulling, and trying to get the nose of the plane to pull up. Amanda reached for the engine’s throttle handles and applied full power to the engines in an attempt to provide some form of lift to help correct the aircrafts rapid decent. Nothing she or her copilot did would force the nose to rise. Amanda could see fishing boats, tugboats, and two large barges below her as the plane rapidly descended towards the channel below. Amanda felt the warmth in her seat, but could not stop the flow. Uncontrollable fear had now seized control of her body.
Amanda could hear her own screams, as the nose of the plane touched the surface of water and began its devastating plunge into the English Channel. She felt the incredible impact, her legs crumpled under her seat as the nose assembly collapsed back into the cockpit. Her body began driving forward and her face smashed against the controls in front of her. She heard her own ribs breaking in her chest as her mind blocked out all other sounds except for the sound of her now dying broken body.
Then there was darkness, the darkest darkness Amanda’s human mind could image: A darkness that was so dark that when she tried to speak, it absorbed the vibrations in her throat, and no words come forth. Darkness so vast her eyes could not see even her own thoughts of light. So dark that the breath she tried to breathe was devoid of oxygen.
Amanda’s mind slowly began to slip away into the darkness of death, and she now must face this darkness, alone. The most distressing feelings a human mind can face is to be alone in total darkness, alone to face ones worst fears, alone for eternity, alone to face ones death. Amanda would now face her fears, as the plane slowly sank into the depths of the English Channel and settled on the rocky bottom of the ocean floor.
Link to Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/31236
TALES AND PROSE COLLECTION
This collection of short stories originated from Ronnie’s little notebook of stories that he never could finish writing. As he took the time to work on each one, he soon discovered that they were actually very good concepts and deserved further attention. Ronnie is willing to bet that every male reader has met a Jenny at one time or another in his life. The final short story in this collection so haunted Ronnie that he completed the story’s first writing in a single day. The story outline formed after Ronnie heard the howl of a coyote while walking along a lonely lakeside trail in upper Michigan just before sunset.
Spending the evening at this gathering was not what I wanted to do with this beautiful sunny day, but my outlook changed as I began mingling with the guests. My editor had asked if I would attend this event and put my face in front of a few of his peers in the publishing field. He said to smile, shake hands, talk about my novels, and for God’s sake let the others around me talk once in awhile. You see, I often have the ability to dominate a conversation; sometimes I even dominate an entire room full of people.
I did exactly what he said, met some very wonderful people and had a very good time. When the steaks came off the grill, I filled my plate with a huge T-bone, cooked rare just as I like it, and then filled the empty spots on the plate with potato salad and coleslaw. I got a plastic cup of Bud Light beer and walked towards a table that had two seats left vacant. There was a lady sitting across the table from one of the empty chairs and she caught my eye as I walked towards the table. I figured she would quickly put her head down and try to ignore the chance eye contact, but she did not. Her eyes never left mine. I could feel her reaching out with those gorgeous eyes hoping for someone to talk to, someone that would not judge her or bore her to tears. I hoped I could stand up to the test as I carefully put my plate on the table, then my cup of beer, being very careful not to trip and fill her lap with either the beer, my steak, or both. As I sat down, she wiped her fingers on her napkin, reached across the table and shook my hand. She said her name was Jenny, I said mine was Ron. Her smile said she did not care about names; she was too busy reading my mind, exploring my soul; did I love the same God as she, was I married? All these questions and I had just met her. We had not spoken more than twenty words between us, but I knew her: I felt her anxiety, being here with no one to talk to, no one she could comfortably talk to, that is.
There were over a hundred people attending this gathering and she hoped I was the one; the mental connection she needed to release her foolish, childish shyness, which always kept her from these events. Her girlfriend had conned her into attending today, as I had been conned by my editor. As I cut my steak and put a bite in my mouth, I could feel her stare continue. I made a conscious effort to speak to her, and listen in between bites of food. Her steak was getting cold and she seemed to have lost the ability to think—talk—listen, and eat at the same time. Her eyes were hungry for human comfort, but her stomach seemed to have lost its hunger for food. I told her that I was not going to talk to her anymore unless she agreed to my conditions. She tensed, said she did not do conditions; I smoothed her ruffled feathers and said that I would give her one sentence of conversation for each bite of food she put into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Her demeanor lightened, she smiled and slowly blinked her eyelids, attempting to release the tension my words had caused in her mind. We seemed to eat quickly because the act of feeding ourselves was hindering our time spent getting to know each other, and asking the questions that seemed to flow from our lips. I discovered that my crazy mind loved this person, this warm being that was on the same mental channel as I. Everyone around us was mentally tuned to channel five, but we seemed to be on channel ten, the same channel, the same mind set, the same understanding of life, love, and the pursuit of friendship.
I had not cried over the death of my friend in many years. There was a time in my life when a smell, a spoken word, a voice in a crowd, or a simple dream would once again stir a vivid memory of her, but I had not physically cried over her memory in many years. Her name was Shirley (Shirley, Shirley fo Birley Bonana fanna fo Firley, fee fy mo Mirley, Shirley). I had memorized her “fun” name, so when I walked with her on the beach, I could impress her. She had recited her “fun” name to me only once, but I quickly picked up how to play the game and loved singing it with her. By the way, my name is Ronnie (Ronnie, Ronnie bo Bonnie Bonana fanna fo Fonnie, fee fy mo Monnie, Ronnie). This name rhyming game was a popular song at the time (The Name Game, written by Shirley Ellis), and my Shirley fell in love with it. She said that all women named Shirley were smart like that, and could rhyme and make beautiful music. I never understood exactly what kind of music my Shirley could make, and was too shy to ask.
She was the first person I had ever met that whispered in the dark. I will always remember the first time we snuggled into our sleeping bags in a tent her father had set up in the back yard at the cabin. I listened to her whispering to me as the darkness of night crept over us. She told me that the darkness could steal her thoughts if she spoke aloud. I remember putting my hand over my mouth as I giggled while she explained how her mother had found out about her kissing a boy at school. She said she had never spoken to anyone about it, until one night when she had told her girl friend in the darkness of her bedroom. The next morning at breakfast, her mother had confronted her with the information and had grounded her. Shirley had made up her mind that the only way her mother could have possibly found out was if the darkness had stolen her thoughts and put them into her mother’s mind. This revelation surprised me coming from her, but I did not question her about the theory she had formulated. I tried not to upset the perfect reasoning she had worked so hard to create in her mind, but I also knew that the cold air duct between her room and her parents might have played a part in the stolen thoughts. Our giggles soon turned to dreams as our minds slipped off and began other adventures, none of which we would remember in the morning.
When my eyes popped open, it was daylight and there were two eyes within two inches of mine, watching me sleep. When I woke with a start, I must have jumped just a little, enough to bump her nose against mine and she seemed to like the feeling. She pressed her lips against mine, closed her eyes, sucked in some air to make a kissing sound, and then quickly retreated as if nothing had ever happened. I found enough male bravery to get the words out of my mouth, “That was really nice,” I had told her. She began giggling, and said, “You slept much too long and needed to wake up.” She was trying to pass the kiss off as a simple way to wake me from my sleep, and my young male psyche loved it. As we dressed, I vaguely remembered that I had squealed like a little girl when she had startled me awake. I said nothing and hoped Shirley had not heard the sound, or at least did not recognize it for what it was.
Link to Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/31505
The Dream Watchers Collection
Ronnie Coleinger's latest collection of fiction and science fiction short stories range from one hundred word flash fiction stories, to poems that will stir your emotions and imagination. The life we humans live is much too short to waste even one precious moment. Your mind can sleep while it rests on the soft silky pillow in your coffin, or on a blazing log of your funeral pyre. Let Ronnie take your mind on a journey, a journey that will keep that brain in your skull well exercised. The human mind sets no boundaries and can take you into distant yet unexplored galaxies; visit entities that modern day science tells us cannot exist and explore the deepest recesses of your own soul. You are about to begin a journey that will take you very near the edge of your own sanity, a place where your mind may wonder off and explore its own little adventure before returning to Ronnie's world. Take a deep breath, wipe your feet at the door, and step into Ronnie's world: pleasant dreams!
THE PLANET WITH NO SUN
“Three thousand habitable planets in the known universe and I’m stuck on the only one without sunshine,” Sharon said as she stomped her foot on the ground and kicked a rock the size of a baseball into the valley below her with the steel toe of her boot. As she stood contemplating her situation, she felt the ground below her feet begin to tremble, then move a few inches to her left. She knelt down and put the palms of her hands on the hot rocks in an attempt to stabilize her body’s movements.
The rocks under her feet stopped moving just as suddenly as they had begun. Sharon had already realized that the heating of this planet’s surface came from the thermal heat moving up from the planets core, through the rocks she stood on. Stranded on this planet for three days now, her eyes had adjusted to the only source of light on the planet, the eerie red glow from the two huge volcanoes that rose high into the atmosphere just across the valley. She stood up and looked at the volcanoes, realizing that the one on her left was now spewing a lot more ash and red-hot lava than an hour earlier. Sharon wondered how long she would survive on this God forsaken planet if her rescue did not take place soon.
She had arrived on this planet due to a failed teleportation from the time travel membrane named, The Mission. The IFTT (International Federation of Time Travel) had commissioned the travel vessel six Earth years earlier. Sharon was the communications officer and she had been testing a new travel watch when the bungled teleportation incident sent her here to this lifeless planet. She did not even know the name of this planet upon which she now stood.
She had first known something was terribly wrong when she pressed the green engage button on her travel watch. She remembered that when she pressed the button on the travel watch, she saw the stardate move from 17000000 back to the year, -2154000. As she stabilized on this dark, lifeless planet, she knew she was in real trouble. She could smell the acrid smoke and ash from the twin volcanoes. She could feel the heat from the rocks below her feet. Her eyes had struggled to find enough light to survey her surroundings. Why this planet had breathable oxygen levels, Sharon was unsure. One thing she had discovered soon after arriving on this God forsaken planet was the extreme temperature difference that existed between the air she breathed and the rocks she stood on. That temperature differential was about forty degrees. What was going on below the rocks she stood on frightened her. Since this planet had no sun to heat the atmosphere, the only heat source was the nuclear core that heated the rocks she stood on. She had already felt the frightening tremors that shook the planet a number of times, and hoped that one of the quakes would not throw her over the edge of the thousand meter sheer cliff she stood on.
SURVIVAL IN THE SEINES
As the light snow showers that persisted during the morning now turned into an outright blizzard, Robert shot a large buck and field dressed it. As he dragged the heavy deer, he felt a small pain in his chest, just under his left shoulder. As he continued towards the cabin, trying to ignore the increasing pain, he decided he had to stop and rest for a few minutes. As he leaned his rifle against a tree, he realized that his life was in jeopardy and he was having a heart attack.
Robert sat down and leaned back against an old oak tree. As he rested, his failing heart began to go into arrhythmia. As his mind felt the effects of his now poorly circulating blood flow, he began talking to a long lost friend who had died in his arms. Then the grip of another horrible pain engulfed his body. This time the pain was so strong that it forced him to cry out and clench his fists in agony. Within seconds, Robert was lying on the ground, dying in the snow from a massive heart attack. He rolled over on his side and saw the blood encrusted snow all around him. He crawled towards the blood soaked earth, crying, attempting to move his body towards what his mind now saw as a fallen comrade. As he crawled he yelled, “The helicopter is waiting. We can make it, John.”
the Vietnam War. He heard the sound of small arms fire about two klicks ahead of him. He and his platoon quickly blended into the jungle and radioed headquarters for information. Within minutes, he received orders to move his platoon to the crash site and assist the downed helicopter crew.
Just as they stepped into a clearing where the smoking helicopter lay in ruins, more small arms fire erupted around them. Suddenly, one of Robert’s men fell to the ground, unconscious and bleeding heavily. Robert ran to his fallen comrade and tried to stop the flow of blood, but his best friend soon fell limp and died in his arms.
The fallen soldier, John, entered the Army with Robert under the Buddy Plan. John now lay dead; the bullet had entered his neck just under his left ear and partially severed his spinal cord. Robert helped carry his friend’s litter to a waiting rescue helicopter for transport back to the small base a few miles from the crash site. The pilot and copilot survived the crash, but nine of the platoon who rescued them did not, and six more received life-threatening wounds.
link to Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/38591
Ronnie Coleinger – A Winter Collection
This eBook contains fiction short stories written by Ronnie during the long cold winter of 2013. All of the stories in this collection, further the adventures of Monique, possibly to conclusion. Monique not only sires a sorcerous son, but also finds many new friends that join her in the Seine Mountains. Global winter looms over the planet and many have lost trust in the government to provide for the basic needs of the population. Those who are unable to fend for themselves will soon find survival impossible.
Natalie and Ginger stood at the door of their barn looking out towards the northwest. They could hear the sounds of heavy earthmoving equipment working. The construction site for the new hotel was over six miles away, but sound travels far in the backwoods of the Seine Mountains where the sounds of a falling dead tree is about the loudest noise humans ever hear.
As the girls stood talking, two young sister black cats weaved around and rubbed against the girls legs, trying to earn some attention from the humans. As Ginger kneeled down and began scratching behind the cats ears, the sounds of their purring drowned out the distant excavators and chair saws. Natalie said, “I guess we need to gather up our backpacks and some supplies and walk over to the construction site and see what on earth is going on over there. I suspect our days of peace and quiet here on this mountain are over. We may have to move deeper into the forest and abandon this homestead.”
As the girls headed towards the modest cabin to gather up what they needed for the trip, Ginger spoke to the two kittens and said, “Fatin, Ahti, will you two be good cats and protect our home while we are gone? I fear your young legs would have trouble making this long trip. We will take you with us another time when we are only traveling a short distance. When you grow some more you will be able to go along on all our adventures.” Fatin looked up at Ginger and meowed, expressing her displeasure at being left behind.”
When the girls had their backpacks and sleeping bags packed, they headed out towards the main road. The winding footpath from the cabin to the road was about a mile walk. It was an hour or so before noon and the girls knew they would have to walk fast to reach the construction site before dark. The construction site was only six or so miles from the cabin as the crow flies, but was close to eighteen miles if they followed the two-track dirt main road. The road seldom had vehicle traffic, but a few hunters and adventurous people sometimes traveled the road. The road wound around the Seine Mountains for many miles and eventually ended at a small town. Only during the hot summer months was the road passable, mud holes six feet deep prevented even the toughest vehicles from passing during the wet season. The road ended up in a major city in the direction the girls were walking, but that city was another five miles from the location of the new Hotel.
As they reached the main road, they spotted two black cats sitting in the center of the road. When the girls walked up to the cats, Natalie said, “Blacky, Monique, good to see you again. We are going to walk up the road to look at the construction site where they are building the new hotel. We left Fatin and Ahti at the cabin to look after things. They both said to tell their mother and father hello.” Blacky looked up and said, “We will stop in and visit them after we go to the hotel with you. We need to see why the humans are destroying the mountain to build another place for humans to spend the money they work all week to earn.”
As they four walked along the road, they heard the sound of a vehicle slowly moving towards them. They stepped to the side of the road and waited to see who was traveling this far from the city. When the driver saw them standing, he stopped and rolled down his window. He spoke to the girls and commented that they were a long way from home. Ginger giggled and said, “Not too far. We live here in the Seine Mountains.” The man thought about what Ginger said but dismissed her words. Natalie asked if he had traveled from the construction site where the new hotel was going up. The man said he worked for a survey crew that would begin surveying the road they were standing on. The owners of the new hotel and casino planned to upgrade the dirt road to a paved highway from the hotel all the way to the small town at the end of the road. Natalie looked at Ginger and rolled her eyes. Then she looked at the man and said, “Seems to me the owners of that hotel have more money than brains and common sense.” The man laughed and said, “I agree with you, however, I am getting paid a small fortune to survey this side of the mountain and I don’t plan to tell my cash cow they are dumber than a bag of rocks for trying to build a road through the bog a few miles up the road.”
The man started up his truck and said goodbye to the girls. He looked down at the two cats sitting behind the girls and said, “Nice cats. They would be even nicer if they were stuffed and sitting in my den.” Ginger took a deep breath and hoped the man did not say any more. The fur on Blacky’s back was already standing up. If the man did not leave soon there would be hell to pay. As he drove a few yards down the road, the girls heard a loud bang. When they turned to see what had happened, they realized the driver had run into a small tree with his truck. He was now outside the truck and jumping around waving his arms like a mad man. The girls realized there were bees swarming all around him. He jumped back into the truck and rolled up the windows. The girls could hear him shout and cuss at the bees even with the door and windows closed. Ginger looked down at Blacky. He stood up and said, “Are we going or not?” Natalie laughed and said, “That was a little excessive don’t you think?
The man might be allergic to bee stings. You might have killed him.” As Blacky walked out onto the road and moved out ahead of them, he passed gas. He said, “That is what I think of disrespectful humans.” The sound was disgusting, but the girls began to laugh anyways. Monique ran up behind Blacky and batted him on the back of the head, letting him know his actions were not acceptable. Ginger sat down in the middle of the road, trying to catch her breath. She had choked from laughing at the antics of the two felines.
Link to Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/419232