transmission isnt that a part in a car? I dont really know. oh man. trans…transfer….mission…goal…transfer goal…ugh…words…
S
Transmission. Transmission has to do with cars. It’s a part of a car. Trans is a part f transmission. It makes me think of transportation. Mission is a part of transmission. It makes me think of spies and secret agents. Whenever I think of spies I’m always afraid that I’ll get killed in some magical way. It’s terrifying. So, yeah. That’s all I can really think of. This was fun. Thanks.
Tess
Wheels crank and churn to let loose steam from across the tracks. The bar swindles up-down-up-down like an arm walking at the train’s side.
Jordan Hall
I’m stuck on the side of the road. My car she no go. No one stops for me. Why? I am an old woman by the side of the road with my hood up. Does no one see that I may have a problem? Finally a young man pulls over, driving an old beat up Volkswagen. After a few minutes of tapping things he turns the ignition. The car comes to life. He puts it into drive and takes off…with my car. I guess it wasn’t the transmission after all.
Ren drake
The transmission was breaking up. She strained to hear his words. What were they saying over there? What was happening?
do you copy? Is anyone out there. C’mon, I can hear you
breathing. 9 million miles away from home and I can hear you
mouth-breathing mutherfuckers. What are you? a bunch of Bart
Simpsons. Is this an inter stellar prank call. Is Seymour there?-
out there in the nebulae which we haven’t even named yet. Well,
screw you you clowns, I’ve got a tube of green beans to masticate.
Over and out.
Shifting gears always feels more alive than standing still. Movement is good and sometimes it makes more sense to move without direction than standstill and wait for direction. It feels more normal to take energy and put it in motion like a ball in a pinball machine finding it way using gravity and the players skills to mean more before we inevitably fall into the hole in the bottom of our lives. We are the center of that moving universe and shine and ring the bells and flash the lights for as long as we keep transmitting from one point to the next.
james
Dean closed his eyes for a moment. Something was wrong with his baby and he didn’t know what. But he knew he had to fix it somehow. And he had fixed the impala more then often enough to know everything exactly.
And so he bent over the open motor and looked inside.
Soon he had found what was broken. The transmission didn’t really seem to work. This was really not good. Where the hell should he find a transmission here?
But it was his baby, his car and somehow he would find a way or another to repair it.
Dean smiled, when he felt Sam’s arm’s around his waist.
“What’s broken?”
“The transmission.”
Sam just nodded and Dean smiled. “You don’t understand it right? Doesn’ matter. It’s my car, so you don’t really need to know about it.”
And then he pulled Sam closer, pressing his lips on Sam’s and Sam grinned.
“I was afraid you would sit here the whole night, thinking about your baby.”
“So you had been lucky. And now inside and undress. I need you.”
Sam smiled, when he went into the house to do what Dean had ordered him to do.
inuzukagirl
Capital radio! I loved their transmission across the waves. And Radio Luxenburg of course…
it wasnt that he didnt understand what she was saying. he heard her perfectly and he unterstood every single word. it was the combination which did not make any sense. “i dont love you anymore” what was that supposed to mean? something mustve gone wrong from her mouth to his ears.
Sandra
i dont really know what this word means, im not very bright
and i can’t think clearly and yeah all i think about these days is
how im not having sex and i have no friends and how my life is flat
and broke down and yeah…
hanna
“Ugh, why isn’t the message coming through?”
“Maybe it’s because you haven’t turned on the signal?”
“Aw, what? Oh yeah! Ehehe, whoops!” *turns on signal*
“You know you should use that brain more often. Maybe you might even understand how the transmission works.”
“Oh, shut up. You still love me despite my idiocy”
She was under her car working on her transmission when a boot kicked hers. She wheeled herself out from under her vehicle irritated, and looked up into the most handsome eyes she ever saw.
I felt the heat flow through me. A shocking visceral sensation filled me as the transmission of a soul passed from one body to another. I was now someone else, a girl I had always wanted to be. Sauntering along with my new found essence I felt as if I had the power of someone else’s mind at my fingertips, and in a way I guess I did.
To transmit my world to you? Impossible. I can tell you how the air is brisk against my eyebrows, describe how the trees are dancing a lazy dance and explain how my hunger sits in wrong places like forehead and feet, but you would still only get the words. We are always apart.
happyrabbit
The antenna was pointing in the right direction, just like all the others, but only George could not receive the transmission. Was it a problem with his antenna? Or did the aliens just not like him?
tonykeyesjapan
With the clunking and clanging of gears, the dust ventured from one cog to the other. The nerves moved through, from the brain to the foot, pressing down on the clutch at the precise moment.
Jose
The transmission’s blown. What does that even mean? How do you blow a transmission? What is a transmission?
Hannah
It’s on again. The old radio we brought down from the attic, the one grandpa used to have in his house; it’s turned itself on again. The same smooth, sonorous voice oozes from its speaker and we are bound to listen.
The transmission fluid was gone. How were we to fix the damn car without transmission fluid?
“Oh dear!” Shouted Loraine. “If we don’t fix this car, I won’t make it to the fair on time”.
That fair was Loraine’s pride and joy. She started it when she was just a meager 16 years of age. Every county had a fair except Jondill County. Everyone needs to go to a county fair. It’s the Ferris Wheels and cotton candy that make up a childhood.
“We must go buy more transmission fluid!” She shouted, again.
“How will we get to the store without a car?”
“I don’t know” Tears were starting to form. I hate to see her cry.
“Why don’t we just walk to the fair? It can’t be too far.”
“It’s 10 MILES, Dave. Do you know how long it will take us to walk 10 miles? And you aren’t exactly in shape.” She said, looking pointedly at my mountainous belly.
Megan
She spilled grief
from her eyes
to mine
I let her leave
her grief
had been stored
safe
It had been
Trance-
mitted
sharmada
It spat at her, lodging broken signals and sunspots in her ear. The transmission was officially, and irrevocably dead. There was no one left to repair the relay station, and even if there were, all the space suits had been taken out by the flare. The entire north section of the base was lost, and if she was being honest with herself, so was she.
The terminal was silent as it began to send the message. Harry stood for a moment, watching it, before leaving it to its work. Hopefully someone would receive it and come to their aid. But for now, there were dead to bury.
our gears are turning. going down this road. we work together to get to our goal. this life never lasting and inevitable to break down. when we do we fix it. and get back on the road again.
Ive never thought i would get back home, i was waiting for a sign, a light, a noise, anything. After walking two miles into the woods desperation started to take place, there had been 2 hours since i took the pill, but the effects just increased, making it almost impossible to concentrate. I looked to the sky, the moon lightened eberything around me, but the dense trees killed my visibility.
Emiliano López
The transmission was blown. What did that mean? I mean, I knew it meant the car was done for. There was no way I was going to sink a thousand dollars into that old car, with it’s one blue door. But what did that mean otherwise. What did that mean for my job? I had to have my job, but how was I supposed to transition from this transmission-less state… I really didn’t want to ask him to take me everywhere. It always seemed like such a hassle to ask the husband for a ride, but we really couldn’t afford a new car, and hey, I can’t really drive a stick shift. I don’t really care to learn, either. It seems… so unpeaceful to have to keep shifting gears. Driving is for feeling and letting your mind wander. I guessed I wouldn’t be doing that either without a transmission. How unhelpful. Is this what we kept working for, getting more stuck.
TMB
The radio crackles with the far away buzz. Sad is it were, this buzzing, incoherent noise, but sadder still whatever lay beneath it. Whatever is going said but unheard, whatever exist beneath the radio’s deafening crackle, is lost forever. I will never know, can never know. And that is what is most heartbreaking of all.
Wealth was invisible: just in the position of a small number of bits on a remote Government server, on some memory chip no more than a micrometer across. And today, his bits had changed, and the bits on some other chip in that vast underground database would change accordingly. He imagined it a definite thing, but of course, it would have taken no more than a millisecond, and the transmission would hardly register amidst the chatter of electricity, all the world’s stockholders playing their daily games, digital money flooding the new startups. Today, he had no money, no Net access. His walls were silent, their pixels dark.
He’s the kind of guy who broke down more often than my old car, and he was never afraid to let me know. I kissed him like I could heal the cuts and keep them from turning to scars.
Kate
is not quite clear. We adjust the dial, move the rabbit ears and still snow clouds it. The sound crackles out of the speakers. It is snowy and noisy but there seems to be something underneath it all. If only we could attune ourselves and hear and see what there is to see.
Michele
“That’s an ORDER, captain. End transmission.”
She stared at the now-blank holoscreen, her irises reflecting the neon blue with a sinister grace. “Understood…mother.” she said quietly, an offering to the empty room.
The transmission in my car failed… Uh! A long trek outside the car just to lift the hood. This day isn’t starting good. I take out my cell phone to call my best friend; “Hey! Julie, my car died. I need your help.” “Sorry, I’m on my way to see Ryan in Pennsylvania,” she says. My face wilts. Why must my best friend see her boyfriend on this day. “Okay, have fun.” “Thanks. Bye,” she concludes. It would be awesome if I had AAA. I have to write that down. What do I do next?
Denise
The radio crackled as the message came across. Dots and dashes clashed and clamored and punctured the air as they were translated into words, sentences, messages. When would the next attack come?
makes me go
is currently broken
there’s nothing to keep me running
or moving
or loving
I’m empty
I need a replacement
A new me?
perhaps.
Choke,
sputter,
spit
full stop.
Stalled.
Me.
I’m sorry. You need me to work. To move forward.
I can’t.
Broken down on the side of the road is all I have to offer.
Love me?
transmission isnt that a part in a car? I dont really know. oh man. trans…transfer….mission…goal…transfer goal…ugh…words…
Transmission. Transmission has to do with cars. It’s a part of a car. Trans is a part f transmission. It makes me think of transportation. Mission is a part of transmission. It makes me think of spies and secret agents. Whenever I think of spies I’m always afraid that I’ll get killed in some magical way. It’s terrifying. So, yeah. That’s all I can really think of. This was fun. Thanks.
Wheels crank and churn to let loose steam from across the tracks. The bar swindles up-down-up-down like an arm walking at the train’s side.
I’m stuck on the side of the road. My car she no go. No one stops for me. Why? I am an old woman by the side of the road with my hood up. Does no one see that I may have a problem? Finally a young man pulls over, driving an old beat up Volkswagen. After a few minutes of tapping things he turns the ignition. The car comes to life. He puts it into drive and takes off…with my car. I guess it wasn’t the transmission after all.
The transmission was breaking up. She strained to hear his words. What were they saying over there? What was happening?
do you copy? Is anyone out there. C’mon, I can hear you
breathing. 9 million miles away from home and I can hear you
mouth-breathing mutherfuckers. What are you? a bunch of Bart
Simpsons. Is this an inter stellar prank call. Is Seymour there?-
out there in the nebulae which we haven’t even named yet. Well,
screw you you clowns, I’ve got a tube of green beans to masticate.
Over and out.
Shifting gears always feels more alive than standing still. Movement is good and sometimes it makes more sense to move without direction than standstill and wait for direction. It feels more normal to take energy and put it in motion like a ball in a pinball machine finding it way using gravity and the players skills to mean more before we inevitably fall into the hole in the bottom of our lives. We are the center of that moving universe and shine and ring the bells and flash the lights for as long as we keep transmitting from one point to the next.
Dean closed his eyes for a moment. Something was wrong with his baby and he didn’t know what. But he knew he had to fix it somehow. And he had fixed the impala more then often enough to know everything exactly.
And so he bent over the open motor and looked inside.
Soon he had found what was broken. The transmission didn’t really seem to work. This was really not good. Where the hell should he find a transmission here?
But it was his baby, his car and somehow he would find a way or another to repair it.
Dean smiled, when he felt Sam’s arm’s around his waist.
“What’s broken?”
“The transmission.”
Sam just nodded and Dean smiled. “You don’t understand it right? Doesn’ matter. It’s my car, so you don’t really need to know about it.”
And then he pulled Sam closer, pressing his lips on Sam’s and Sam grinned.
“I was afraid you would sit here the whole night, thinking about your baby.”
“So you had been lucky. And now inside and undress. I need you.”
Sam smiled, when he went into the house to do what Dean had ordered him to do.
Capital radio! I loved their transmission across the waves. And Radio Luxenburg of course…
it wasnt that he didnt understand what she was saying. he heard her perfectly and he unterstood every single word. it was the combination which did not make any sense. “i dont love you anymore” what was that supposed to mean? something mustve gone wrong from her mouth to his ears.
i dont really know what this word means, im not very bright
and i can’t think clearly and yeah all i think about these days is
how im not having sex and i have no friends and how my life is flat
and broke down and yeah…
“Ugh, why isn’t the message coming through?”
“Maybe it’s because you haven’t turned on the signal?”
“Aw, what? Oh yeah! Ehehe, whoops!” *turns on signal*
“You know you should use that brain more often. Maybe you might even understand how the transmission works.”
“Oh, shut up. You still love me despite my idiocy”
(might be McKirk, IDK)
She was under her car working on her transmission when a boot kicked hers. She wheeled herself out from under her vehicle irritated, and looked up into the most handsome eyes she ever saw.
I felt the heat flow through me. A shocking visceral sensation filled me as the transmission of a soul passed from one body to another. I was now someone else, a girl I had always wanted to be. Sauntering along with my new found essence I felt as if I had the power of someone else’s mind at my fingertips, and in a way I guess I did.
To transmit my world to you? Impossible. I can tell you how the air is brisk against my eyebrows, describe how the trees are dancing a lazy dance and explain how my hunger sits in wrong places like forehead and feet, but you would still only get the words. We are always apart.
The antenna was pointing in the right direction, just like all the others, but only George could not receive the transmission. Was it a problem with his antenna? Or did the aliens just not like him?
With the clunking and clanging of gears, the dust ventured from one cog to the other. The nerves moved through, from the brain to the foot, pressing down on the clutch at the precise moment.
The transmission’s blown. What does that even mean? How do you blow a transmission? What is a transmission?
It’s on again. The old radio we brought down from the attic, the one grandpa used to have in his house; it’s turned itself on again. The same smooth, sonorous voice oozes from its speaker and we are bound to listen.
Transmission makes me think of car problems. It’s really bad!
Transmission is a technical term used in TV and radio. They call the people who are interested in that sort of stuff engineers. It’s really hard!
Transmission is also a way to spread germs. It’s really scientific.
Transmission could be an expedition by he-shes. N’est-ce pas?
goddamn please dont crawl into my chest to kiss my flaws away thats creepy
The transmission fluid was gone. How were we to fix the damn car without transmission fluid?
“Oh dear!” Shouted Loraine. “If we don’t fix this car, I won’t make it to the fair on time”.
That fair was Loraine’s pride and joy. She started it when she was just a meager 16 years of age. Every county had a fair except Jondill County. Everyone needs to go to a county fair. It’s the Ferris Wheels and cotton candy that make up a childhood.
“We must go buy more transmission fluid!” She shouted, again.
“How will we get to the store without a car?”
“I don’t know” Tears were starting to form. I hate to see her cry.
“Why don’t we just walk to the fair? It can’t be too far.”
“It’s 10 MILES, Dave. Do you know how long it will take us to walk 10 miles? And you aren’t exactly in shape.” She said, looking pointedly at my mountainous belly.
She spilled grief
from her eyes
to mine
I let her leave
her grief
had been stored
safe
It had been
Trance-
mitted
It spat at her, lodging broken signals and sunspots in her ear. The transmission was officially, and irrevocably dead. There was no one left to repair the relay station, and even if there were, all the space suits had been taken out by the flare. The entire north section of the base was lost, and if she was being honest with herself, so was she.
The terminal was silent as it began to send the message. Harry stood for a moment, watching it, before leaving it to its work. Hopefully someone would receive it and come to their aid. But for now, there were dead to bury.
our gears are turning. going down this road. we work together to get to our goal. this life never lasting and inevitable to break down. when we do we fix it. and get back on the road again.
The
Ive never thought i would get back home, i was waiting for a sign, a light, a noise, anything. After walking two miles into the woods desperation started to take place, there had been 2 hours since i took the pill, but the effects just increased, making it almost impossible to concentrate. I looked to the sky, the moon lightened eberything around me, but the dense trees killed my visibility.
The transmission was blown. What did that mean? I mean, I knew it meant the car was done for. There was no way I was going to sink a thousand dollars into that old car, with it’s one blue door. But what did that mean otherwise. What did that mean for my job? I had to have my job, but how was I supposed to transition from this transmission-less state… I really didn’t want to ask him to take me everywhere. It always seemed like such a hassle to ask the husband for a ride, but we really couldn’t afford a new car, and hey, I can’t really drive a stick shift. I don’t really care to learn, either. It seems… so unpeaceful to have to keep shifting gears. Driving is for feeling and letting your mind wander. I guessed I wouldn’t be doing that either without a transmission. How unhelpful. Is this what we kept working for, getting more stuck.
The radio crackles with the far away buzz. Sad is it were, this buzzing, incoherent noise, but sadder still whatever lay beneath it. Whatever is going said but unheard, whatever exist beneath the radio’s deafening crackle, is lost forever. I will never know, can never know. And that is what is most heartbreaking of all.
I would have started the car on time, but the transmission nearly blew up! That’s the reason why I was late in picking you up from the soccer game.
The light is transmitted into the reflection. There is rainbow of light including red, orange, yellow, green, blue, maroon, and violet.
Wealth was invisible: just in the position of a small number of bits on a remote Government server, on some memory chip no more than a micrometer across. And today, his bits had changed, and the bits on some other chip in that vast underground database would change accordingly. He imagined it a definite thing, but of course, it would have taken no more than a millisecond, and the transmission would hardly register amidst the chatter of electricity, all the world’s stockholders playing their daily games, digital money flooding the new startups. Today, he had no money, no Net access. His walls were silent, their pixels dark.
He’s the kind of guy who broke down more often than my old car, and he was never afraid to let me know. I kissed him like I could heal the cuts and keep them from turning to scars.
is not quite clear. We adjust the dial, move the rabbit ears and still snow clouds it. The sound crackles out of the speakers. It is snowy and noisy but there seems to be something underneath it all. If only we could attune ourselves and hear and see what there is to see.
“That’s an ORDER, captain. End transmission.”
She stared at the now-blank holoscreen, her irises reflecting the neon blue with a sinister grace. “Understood…mother.” she said quietly, an offering to the empty room.
The transmission in my car failed… Uh! A long trek outside the car just to lift the hood. This day isn’t starting good. I take out my cell phone to call my best friend; “Hey! Julie, my car died. I need your help.” “Sorry, I’m on my way to see Ryan in Pennsylvania,” she says. My face wilts. Why must my best friend see her boyfriend on this day. “Okay, have fun.” “Thanks. Bye,” she concludes. It would be awesome if I had AAA. I have to write that down. What do I do next?
The radio crackled as the message came across. Dots and dashes clashed and clamored and punctured the air as they were translated into words, sentences, messages. When would the next attack come?
makes me go
is currently broken
there’s nothing to keep me running
or moving
or loving
I’m empty
I need a replacement
A new me?
perhaps.
Choke,
sputter,
spit
full stop.
Stalled.
Me.
I’m sorry. You need me to work. To move forward.
I can’t.
Broken down on the side of the road is all I have to offer.
Love me?
I don’t know what transmission means, to be honest. But I can’t look it up, not enough time.