Life & Times of Arty Scottsfield

Life & Times
In a day not too long gone by, the world was focused on going up and out.
Those also happened to be the days when the world was getting hotter, and the water getting higher.
Now, many cities are narrow strips of land connected by a few bridges, but most of the city and the people in it floated. Skylines seldom stayed the same for a week at a time. Oh, the buildings stayed, but their positions didn't. Waterfront property became the only property. Landlocked sites, few and far between, became highly desired and, therefore, highly priced. It became common for folks to have a sizable boat and a small aircraft.
Old timers mused of days when one of the few cities of canals was Venice. To newer-arrivals, like myself, this Venice was now Atlantis. And Atlantis? Well, who knows where that went.
Nobody worries about population anymore. It's harder to keep four lil'uns in a moving, floating house. In other words, it's taken care of itself to be about the size the world was in the 1920's.
Speaking of said era, know the saying "history repeats itself"? It's true; pretty much everything's like the 20's; the clothing styles, the people, everything. Except, of course, 1920's Manhattan wasn't half-submerged.
But life goes on, as it ususally does. Where there's a city, there's tons of people. Tons of people, bound to be discontent. Discontent, plots. And plots, trouble. I know of trouble not even the dirtiest, nosiest people can find. But I don't go making the trouble. I just tell it; it's my job.
The name? Arty Scottsfield.
Maritime Mayhem
I hopped only the bar ship just as it was about to shove off. I had an important meeting to listen in on, and I hated to be late. I shouldered my way through the not-yet-rambuncious crowd to a back corner when I saw him: Danny Lee, the infamous Dealer of Disaster, Trader of Trouble. Word on the street was that he was trying to make the deal of the century to get in on a plot. Of course, that meant nothing good.
I sat at a nearby table, hat brim over my eyes, listening to the unfolding madness as follows.
"So's the shipment on time?" Danny grunted to a scrawny, bespecticled young man across from him.
"Well, er, not yet, you see..."
"You boneheads realize this shipment is the maker or breaker of this deal between BJ and I? The plan'll never get off the ground otherwise!" My ears perked at the name of BJ. BJ, or Big Jimmy, was second biggest in little people behind Danny Lee, had government connections, and has been a close friend of mine since I landed in the news business.
"BJ knows ye gota come tru wit yer enda da offa, ottawise its yer skin," a burly mutt next to Danny grunted.
"Hey, you all know how much trouble I've gone through trying to get this thing goin'! I'm hopin' he's trying to hold up his end, otherwise it's his skin." Danny shook his head, deep in thought.
The bespecticled one piped up. "Danny, I've been thinking..."
"History being made here!" Danny praised sarcastically, not looking up. Unabashed, he continued.
"What if we made sure BJ couldn't come through? If you get my drift..." He smirked slyly. Danny looked up slowly as it dawned on him.
"Specs, my boy, that's the best plan you've come up with to date!" he boomed, clapping Specs on the back. "Now, we all know BJ's end of the bargin, and his connections, right?" Murmurs of consensus answered. "And we all know, dispite the truce, we hate each other's guts, right?" Rambuncious agreement met his words. I must admit, I agreed as well, because if I knew BJ as well as myself, I know BJ has always hated Danny Lee. "So if we can throw a wrench into his end, so as to... interfere with it, we won't be able to come through! That means we can pick him off, and we can finish the plan ourselves!" Loud cheers of approval followed this speech. My mind raced; I couldn't let them interfere with BJ, whatever it was he was up to. I had to warn him. I must've stood up too quickly for Danny's liking. I was petrified with fear when Danny Lee himself meanicingly called to me: "Where d'y'think you're going Hotshot?"

Expanding My Horizons

Well, if you found this blog from my Ficlets link, welcome!

If you just happened to stumble upon this humble blog, welcome as well!

I'll explain: I've been having inspiration that I wanna share with my fellow Ficleteers (and anyone else, for that matter), but they (the stories) don't want to fit the Ficlet Nirvana number, and there's no real good breaks in the story.

So... I decided to post them somewhere else for the time being. But don't worry, most of my stuff will still be on Ficlets.

Feel free to comment as you would on Ficlets, I'd really appreciate the input.

~La Pianista Irlandesa