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It can be about anything.
|
[WP] Write me something that sounds happy at first, but is actually sad when you think about it.
|
He was a beautiful baby boy. Blue eyes, no hair, and just about 8 pounds. I held him for the first time and looked him in the eyes. I loved him instantly and knew I always would. He was absolutely perfect. There was no way I would ever forget this moment.
The nurse came in saying "It's time." Softly, I kissed him on his forehead as I placed him in her arms. I knew this was the best thing for him. He'd grow up happy, loved, and well cared for.
As she left the room, I lifted my phone and called my dealer for the first time in 9 months.
|
On my birthday my girlfriend gave me a watch worth seven hundred dollars.
Lavish, I know. And I also know that it's rude to ask what a gift is worth, but believe me, she insisted upon it.
I still have the receipt somewhere, though I doubt they'll take it back now.
|
It can be about anything.
|
[WP] Write me something that sounds happy at first, but is actually sad when you think about it.
|
Sophie and I have been inseparable since high school. We roomed together in college, had the same jobs, and played the same sports. When I was at my lowest, she's been there. When I needed advice, she's been there. She's so smart, funny, beautiful, and confident. I can't imagine who I would be without her. Tomorrow she is getting married to a wonderful man. After the honeymoon, they'll be moving back to Italy where his family is. She'll be happy there, she loves Europe. She won't stop talking about it. I'm happy for her. Her future is so beautiful.
|
On my birthday my girlfriend gave me a watch worth seven hundred dollars.
Lavish, I know. And I also know that it's rude to ask what a gift is worth, but believe me, she insisted upon it.
I still have the receipt somewhere, though I doubt they'll take it back now.
|
It can be about anything.
|
[WP] Write me something that sounds happy at first, but is actually sad when you think about it.
|
They married shortly after graduating from Dartmouth.
It was a grand affair. The reception was held in a giant, formal ballroom, the four course meal served on fine china. Her dress was Vera Wang, her shoes Jimmy Choo. His suit had cost more than all the floral arrangements.
Their Honeymoon lasted a year. London, Oslo, Paris, Vienna, Rome, and Athens, among others. She took beautiful pictures, and upon their return home, she bound all the photographs in a giant, leatherbound book that she would display to the guests at their wine tastings and cocktail parties.
They lived in beautiful home in a gated community, a gift from her father. It had granite counter-tops and mahogany wood floors. The master bathroom had a tub with the giant claw feet.
He had a good job in the financial industry. It was a lot of hours, but it was secure, and paid quite well. Every few years, he would get a raise and a promotion. He was comfortable in life. She did a little bit of photography, a little bit of arts and crafts, and a lot of Pintrest. She also held lots of parties. Her friends were few, but her guests were many.
She never had children. She was pregnant, once, but took care of that problem quite quickly. Neither of them were particularly interested in raising a family.
Their house was always pristine; The maids and groundskeepers took excellent care. Every visitor they had only had compliments for what they saw, from the Klimt painting in the foyer to the exquisite topiary in the gardens.
They never moved, though they did purchase several vacation homes. They lived in that house, even until their old age, when nurses and doctors began to visit with more frequency.
He passed first. She attended his funeral dressed in black silk. The only other mourners was a cousin of his she had met twice, their butler, and one of his former co-workers.
No one attended her burial. There was none. She had changed her will after her husband passed. She wanted to be cremated, and have her ashes spread in the wind, blowing away into nothing.
The day she died, the house stood as still as it always had. The only audible sound was the grandfather clock ticking in the hall.
|
On my birthday my girlfriend gave me a watch worth seven hundred dollars.
Lavish, I know. And I also know that it's rude to ask what a gift is worth, but believe me, she insisted upon it.
I still have the receipt somewhere, though I doubt they'll take it back now.
|
It can be about anything.
|
[WP] Write me something that sounds happy at first, but is actually sad when you think about it.
|
Cara, had always wanted a puppy. I couldn't give her a lot of things but this was within my power, so I decided to sell some useless stuff we had never used that we had in the attic. I advertised it on Craigslist and it wasn't long getting a response, having heard many stories about people getting chopped to pieces after finding the person looking to buy their 2$ vase did not in fact drive 100 miles just to collect it I was glad when it was a woman's voice on the other end of the line, women were statistically less likely to be serial killers. She told me that she was married and that "we" were pregnant, the phrase struck me. Her husband was sharing the blame for this pregnancy as much as she was, it was refreshing really but it magnified my own shortcomings. They wanted to buy all the baby stuff, from the unused prams to the unused baby monitors. We met in a Walmart car park and we exchanged: money for the useless shit we never got to use. I had raised over 120$. The next few days were strange, Cara knew I'd sold the baby stuff, but we didn't talk about it. I had enough saved to buy the things we needed to adopt a puppy. I found the one that could only melt Cara's heart and I tied a ribbon around his collar. (I hadn't named him yet) When I arrived home, I opened the door and called Cara, as she descended the stairs she looked as beautiful as the day I met her, if not a little sadder, her face lit up when she saw the puppy his long tail wagging vigorously. Wordlessly she took the puppy and held him and tears blurred her eyes as she took him and hugged me.
That was the first time we had communicated in a long time, we didn't speak a word.
|
On my birthday my girlfriend gave me a watch worth seven hundred dollars.
Lavish, I know. And I also know that it's rude to ask what a gift is worth, but believe me, she insisted upon it.
I still have the receipt somewhere, though I doubt they'll take it back now.
|
It can be about anything.
|
[WP] Write me something that sounds happy at first, but is actually sad when you think about it.
|
Brent, after years of being bullied and harassed in school, finally got what he always wanted.
Silence.
|
On my birthday my girlfriend gave me a watch worth seven hundred dollars.
Lavish, I know. And I also know that it's rude to ask what a gift is worth, but believe me, she insisted upon it.
I still have the receipt somewhere, though I doubt they'll take it back now.
|
It can be about anything.
|
[WP] Write me something that sounds happy at first, but is actually sad when you think about it.
|
Sophie and I have been inseparable since high school. We roomed together in college, had the same jobs, and played the same sports. When I was at my lowest, she's been there. When I needed advice, she's been there. She's so smart, funny, beautiful, and confident. I can't imagine who I would be without her. Tomorrow she is getting married to a wonderful man. After the honeymoon, they'll be moving back to Italy where his family is. She'll be happy there, she loves Europe. She won't stop talking about it. I'm happy for her. Her future is so beautiful.
|
He was a beautiful baby boy. Blue eyes, no hair, and just about 8 pounds. I held him for the first time and looked him in the eyes. I loved him instantly and knew I always would. He was absolutely perfect. There was no way I would ever forget this moment.
The nurse came in saying "It's time." Softly, I kissed him on his forehead as I placed him in her arms. I knew this was the best thing for him. He'd grow up happy, loved, and well cared for.
As she left the room, I lifted my phone and called my dealer for the first time in 9 months.
|
It can be about anything.
|
[WP] Write me something that sounds happy at first, but is actually sad when you think about it.
|
They married shortly after graduating from Dartmouth.
It was a grand affair. The reception was held in a giant, formal ballroom, the four course meal served on fine china. Her dress was Vera Wang, her shoes Jimmy Choo. His suit had cost more than all the floral arrangements.
Their Honeymoon lasted a year. London, Oslo, Paris, Vienna, Rome, and Athens, among others. She took beautiful pictures, and upon their return home, she bound all the photographs in a giant, leatherbound book that she would display to the guests at their wine tastings and cocktail parties.
They lived in beautiful home in a gated community, a gift from her father. It had granite counter-tops and mahogany wood floors. The master bathroom had a tub with the giant claw feet.
He had a good job in the financial industry. It was a lot of hours, but it was secure, and paid quite well. Every few years, he would get a raise and a promotion. He was comfortable in life. She did a little bit of photography, a little bit of arts and crafts, and a lot of Pintrest. She also held lots of parties. Her friends were few, but her guests were many.
She never had children. She was pregnant, once, but took care of that problem quite quickly. Neither of them were particularly interested in raising a family.
Their house was always pristine; The maids and groundskeepers took excellent care. Every visitor they had only had compliments for what they saw, from the Klimt painting in the foyer to the exquisite topiary in the gardens.
They never moved, though they did purchase several vacation homes. They lived in that house, even until their old age, when nurses and doctors began to visit with more frequency.
He passed first. She attended his funeral dressed in black silk. The only other mourners was a cousin of his she had met twice, their butler, and one of his former co-workers.
No one attended her burial. There was none. She had changed her will after her husband passed. She wanted to be cremated, and have her ashes spread in the wind, blowing away into nothing.
The day she died, the house stood as still as it always had. The only audible sound was the grandfather clock ticking in the hall.
|
Every afternoon, I passed by the old shrine up at the hill. There, a dog wondered the hillside, chasing butterflies and digging ditches. It gladly met others, accepting food and honoring one's comfort. It thorougly enjoyed affection, wagging it's tail and bearing a joyous smile.
But, nobody knew where the dog came from, or why it never ventured into the city. The people of the city never tried to leash it, but travellers tried constantly. The dog never resisted, it simply didn't follow.
One afternoon I passed by the old shrine. The dog wasn't there prancing around the shrine. Instead, beside a curved slate, it lay motionless as it usually did.
Patiently waiting.
|
It can be about anything.
|
[WP] Write me something that sounds happy at first, but is actually sad when you think about it.
|
Cara, had always wanted a puppy. I couldn't give her a lot of things but this was within my power, so I decided to sell some useless stuff we had never used that we had in the attic. I advertised it on Craigslist and it wasn't long getting a response, having heard many stories about people getting chopped to pieces after finding the person looking to buy their 2$ vase did not in fact drive 100 miles just to collect it I was glad when it was a woman's voice on the other end of the line, women were statistically less likely to be serial killers. She told me that she was married and that "we" were pregnant, the phrase struck me. Her husband was sharing the blame for this pregnancy as much as she was, it was refreshing really but it magnified my own shortcomings. They wanted to buy all the baby stuff, from the unused prams to the unused baby monitors. We met in a Walmart car park and we exchanged: money for the useless shit we never got to use. I had raised over 120$. The next few days were strange, Cara knew I'd sold the baby stuff, but we didn't talk about it. I had enough saved to buy the things we needed to adopt a puppy. I found the one that could only melt Cara's heart and I tied a ribbon around his collar. (I hadn't named him yet) When I arrived home, I opened the door and called Cara, as she descended the stairs she looked as beautiful as the day I met her, if not a little sadder, her face lit up when she saw the puppy his long tail wagging vigorously. Wordlessly she took the puppy and held him and tears blurred her eyes as she took him and hugged me.
That was the first time we had communicated in a long time, we didn't speak a word.
|
Every afternoon, I passed by the old shrine up at the hill. There, a dog wondered the hillside, chasing butterflies and digging ditches. It gladly met others, accepting food and honoring one's comfort. It thorougly enjoyed affection, wagging it's tail and bearing a joyous smile.
But, nobody knew where the dog came from, or why it never ventured into the city. The people of the city never tried to leash it, but travellers tried constantly. The dog never resisted, it simply didn't follow.
One afternoon I passed by the old shrine. The dog wasn't there prancing around the shrine. Instead, beside a curved slate, it lay motionless as it usually did.
Patiently waiting.
|
It can be about anything.
|
[WP] Write me something that sounds happy at first, but is actually sad when you think about it.
|
Brent, after years of being bullied and harassed in school, finally got what he always wanted.
Silence.
|
Every afternoon, I passed by the old shrine up at the hill. There, a dog wondered the hillside, chasing butterflies and digging ditches. It gladly met others, accepting food and honoring one's comfort. It thorougly enjoyed affection, wagging it's tail and bearing a joyous smile.
But, nobody knew where the dog came from, or why it never ventured into the city. The people of the city never tried to leash it, but travellers tried constantly. The dog never resisted, it simply didn't follow.
One afternoon I passed by the old shrine. The dog wasn't there prancing around the shrine. Instead, beside a curved slate, it lay motionless as it usually did.
Patiently waiting.
|
It can be about anything.
|
[WP] Write me something that sounds happy at first, but is actually sad when you think about it.
|
"What is your wish?" The Genie asked me.
"I wish Mary Jane to fall in love with me."
I bumped into Mary Jane sometime after. I could tell from the way she looked at me. Her posture was reserved, but her eyes were inviting, it was those eyes that makes me fall in love. Then I gathered my courage to ask her out, my heart jumped with joy when she said yes. We dated for five years, five years filled both happy and sad memories, but they were all precious. Then we get married. We both had stable jobs, a nice house, insurances and all. We gave birth to our daughter, Sue, she was really god sent. It really was all I could ever wish for.
One day, Sue and I was watching a magic show on TV. My energetic daughter was jumping in awe:
"Wow, so cool. Daddy, I want to have magic too."
I smiled back at her:
"Don't be silly, Sue. Those aren't real. They are all just illusion."
|
Every afternoon, I passed by the old shrine up at the hill. There, a dog wondered the hillside, chasing butterflies and digging ditches. It gladly met others, accepting food and honoring one's comfort. It thorougly enjoyed affection, wagging it's tail and bearing a joyous smile.
But, nobody knew where the dog came from, or why it never ventured into the city. The people of the city never tried to leash it, but travellers tried constantly. The dog never resisted, it simply didn't follow.
One afternoon I passed by the old shrine. The dog wasn't there prancing around the shrine. Instead, beside a curved slate, it lay motionless as it usually did.
Patiently waiting.
|
It can be about anything.
|
[WP] Write me something that sounds happy at first, but is actually sad when you think about it.
|
"What is your wish?" The Genie asked me.
"I wish Mary Jane to fall in love with me."
I bumped into Mary Jane sometime after. I could tell from the way she looked at me. Her posture was reserved, but her eyes were inviting, it was those eyes that makes me fall in love. Then I gathered my courage to ask her out, my heart jumped with joy when she said yes. We dated for five years, five years filled both happy and sad memories, but they were all precious. Then we get married. We both had stable jobs, a nice house, insurances and all. We gave birth to our daughter, Sue, she was really god sent. It really was all I could ever wish for.
One day, Sue and I was watching a magic show on TV. My energetic daughter was jumping in awe:
"Wow, so cool. Daddy, I want to have magic too."
I smiled back at her:
"Don't be silly, Sue. Those aren't real. They are all just illusion."
|
Marla hugged the puppy tight, squealing.
"Another puppy!" she said excited. Craig smiled.
"Yeah! Now what do we do?" He said.
"Always feed him, always walk him." she said, petting the dogs head. The puppy jumped up, licking her forehead. His tail wagged quickly from side to side.
"What what do we *not* do?" He asked. Marla sighed. She flipped the puppy over and rubbed it's belly. Tongue hanging to the side of his mouth, the puppy barked happily.
"Let him off the leash unless he's inside." She moved the puppy up and hugged it again. The puppy put his head on her shoulder. He looked comfortable.
"Good." Craig smiled patiently at his daughter.
"Can I let him meet the other dogs now?" She let the puppy lick her face.
"Sure, remember we have people coming over at 6:00." Craig walked into the kitchen to make dinner.
"Come on, puppy, lets meet your family!" She walked over to the basement door, the puppy following happily, tail wagging.
They walked downstairs, and Marla hit the light. The musty, dank smell hit her nose, and she crinkled it. The barks of the other dogs almost drowned out her voice. She stood and rubbed the felt soundproofing on the wall. Across from her, 25 kennels all holding pit bulls lined the wall.
The puppy trotted over to one of the kennels. The pit bull lunged and growled, viciously pawing at the door. Marla walked over and grabbed the puppy.
"Come on, pup." She said.
She walked back across the pit in the floor, the dirt stained with blood, surrounded by chairs, lit only by the dim bulb over her head. The chalk off the chalkboard holding dogs names and scores drifted into the light, filtering the rays from the bulb.
"Let's get you some dinner before you settle in." She said, and they both walked back upstairs.
|
It can be about anything.
|
[WP] Write me something that sounds happy at first, but is actually sad when you think about it.
|
"What is your wish?" The Genie asked me.
"I wish Mary Jane to fall in love with me."
I bumped into Mary Jane sometime after. I could tell from the way she looked at me. Her posture was reserved, but her eyes were inviting, it was those eyes that makes me fall in love. Then I gathered my courage to ask her out, my heart jumped with joy when she said yes. We dated for five years, five years filled both happy and sad memories, but they were all precious. Then we get married. We both had stable jobs, a nice house, insurances and all. We gave birth to our daughter, Sue, she was really god sent. It really was all I could ever wish for.
One day, Sue and I was watching a magic show on TV. My energetic daughter was jumping in awe:
"Wow, so cool. Daddy, I want to have magic too."
I smiled back at her:
"Don't be silly, Sue. Those aren't real. They are all just illusion."
|
The last doll, with golden hair, went to Samantha in room 4B.
The doll was called Amelia and came with two dresses, an ivory brush, and little black shoes. Samantha would brush the dolls hair until it shone. She brushed it and brushed it, until the hair started to come out in the brush.
Still, Samantha loved the doll. She would tell Amelia, when this happened, "I understand. It doesn't matter if you are bald or not. I understand and you are still beautiful."
|
It can be about anything.
|
[WP] Write me something that sounds happy at first, but is actually sad when you think about it.
|
"What is your wish?" The Genie asked me.
"I wish Mary Jane to fall in love with me."
I bumped into Mary Jane sometime after. I could tell from the way she looked at me. Her posture was reserved, but her eyes were inviting, it was those eyes that makes me fall in love. Then I gathered my courage to ask her out, my heart jumped with joy when she said yes. We dated for five years, five years filled both happy and sad memories, but they were all precious. Then we get married. We both had stable jobs, a nice house, insurances and all. We gave birth to our daughter, Sue, she was really god sent. It really was all I could ever wish for.
One day, Sue and I was watching a magic show on TV. My energetic daughter was jumping in awe:
"Wow, so cool. Daddy, I want to have magic too."
I smiled back at her:
"Don't be silly, Sue. Those aren't real. They are all just illusion."
|
I just know Seth will be enamored with this Transformers cake, and all the gifts, and a candle with his favorite number 7. He’s wanted to be 7 since he declared it his favorite number in the universe 2 years ago. And now it’s finally here.
Greg and I agreed we wouldn’t make a big fuss about his 7th birthday as we did his 6th, but I just couldn’t help myself. A child should be celebrated, especially on their birthday. Seth deserved this.
It took me forever just to find the right shade of green, his favorite color, to match the right shade of orange, his other favorite color. But I’d found it, and all the decorations were in place and looked great.
Everything seemed in order, and I’m pretty happy about how it’s all turned out. Seth will love it.
I can only imagine the smile once he sees all his gifts and the room, and the colors. I can almost see his gapped teeth grinning and him pawing at both me and his father. And that candle, he always wanted a one candle with the number, not multiple candles like on TV he would say. I think he’ll even like the balloons that I put with his name on them. Set thinks balloons will lift up the house and carry him away, like that one Disney movie.
All that’s missing is Greg. I hope he too likes the decorations and is ready to celebrate our sons 7th birthday. He gets teary eyed sometimes, a very proud father.
Its 3:07, time to let the festivities begin.
I walk to the fireplace mantel and take down Seth’s ashes. Here they’ve sat for the past 2 years. I only take them down for birthdays and Christmas. It’s too painful any other time. But I want my baby to have an up close experience on his days. And today is an extra special day.
Happy Birthday baby boy, mommy loves you.
|
[WP] A god bets to another god that he can kill a random man no matter how much the other tries to save him. After several near-death situations, the man meets both of them
|
"Okay, you two. I am seriously sick of your shit. If you don't cut it out, I am going to kill *myself* and then you will *both* lose!"
The God of Misfortune and the God of Medicine shifted uncomfortably. Each had wagered the other some fairly significant stakes, and divine honor would compel them to deliver.
Fred, on the other hand, was just pissed off. Royally. "Call your bet null, or I will find a way to end it outside the terms of your *stupid* bargain."
The two gods shared a glance, each reluctant to end the game. It had been such great fun until now! Watching them, Fred snorted. "Really guys? Really? For fuck's sake, just go on a date like normal people do." The gods were suddenly uncomfortable, looking anywhere but at each other or at Fred.
"Okay," sighed Fred, "I'm going to make this easier for you. I used to run a restaurant before you two started ruining my life. Help me get it back and I'll give you both a meal on the house, best seafood you've ever tasted. Candles, romance, the whole shebang. You can come there anytime you like. Just stop throwing me into near-death experiences. You're going to give me a condition."
Gods could not sample mortal food unless it was freely offered, so this was a fine gift. Shyly, Misfortune caught Medicine's eye. "I'm feeling contrary to my nature," he said, "How about it? A happy ending?" Just as bashful, Medicine found Misfortune's hand, looking up through his lashes. "Works for me."
"Sickening," Fred proclaimed. "I hope you both like scampi."
|
My eyes opened.
I could barely see. A face appeared before my eyes, apparently the person was speaking, yet I couldn't understand a thing.
A bright, white light was pointed directly into my right eye, I started to make sense of the sounds surrounding me. The person was speaking to me, worried, asking me questions I did not understand and there was a continouos beeping. It started to make sense to me, I was in an ER and the face above my head took shape, it was a woman, a doctor, I think.
I closed my eyes again, trying to clear my mind. Finally I could understand, what she was saying.
Repeatedly she asked: "Sir, can you hear me? Do you know your name? Do you know what happened?"
I slowly nodded, which was followed by her demanding me to open my eyes. I obeyed as I managed to regain consciousness completely.
I asked her, why I was here. And the answer shocked me:
"You had a heart attack, leading to a car-crash on the highway"
"Ok", I whispered, "but why am I alive?"
"I guess you had a guardian angel.."
"I was already here last week." I told her.
She looked nervouly on her clipboard.
"Yes, and two weeks before that, you should rest now."
As soon as she left, the heart-monitor started beeping furiously, I slipped away into unconsciousness as I heard the door slam open.
Before me stood two grey, ghastly figures.
Everything seemed dizzy and clear at the same time.
The figures stared at me, as I asked them: " Am I dead?"
"Yes", the slightly darker figure told me.
"And no", the other added.
"What is this?"
"We summoned you..." - " ...to explain"
"Explain what?"
"Why you have been struck with such injustice and luck at the same time" The slightly brighter figure answered.
"And to offer you a choice", the darker ghast added.
"What choice?"
"Let us explain first."
I accepted and was told why I have been struck by lightning, embraced in fire and had a heart-attack on the road, all without major injuries.
"Why? Is this a fucking game to you? Don't you ever think about the consequences of your actions?"
"Yes and no"
"Now to your choice..."
By now I couldn't make a difference who of those godly entities was speaking to me, I was infuriated and calmed at the same time.
"We offer you a return to your life without any future problems and a few benefits"-"Or you could come into the afterlife with us, of course with benefits"
"What benefits are you talking about? Heaven?"
"No, there is no such thing as heaven or hell, all live in the same purgatory, even though, there are differences, you would basically be considered as a VIP, if you will"
"And the benefits in my normal life?"
"Well, you will live long and prosper, we cannot give you all you want, but we can make it very pleasent."
I told them to send me back and let me choose later.
My eyes opened.
I could barely see. A face appeared before my eyes, apparently the person was speaking, yet I couldn't understand a thing.
After a while I could understand what the doctor was saying, I had been in a coma for the past two years after being struck by lightning.
|
|
[WP] A god bets to another god that he can kill a random man no matter how much the other tries to save him. After several near-death situations, the man meets both of them
|
"Okay, you two. I am seriously sick of your shit. If you don't cut it out, I am going to kill *myself* and then you will *both* lose!"
The God of Misfortune and the God of Medicine shifted uncomfortably. Each had wagered the other some fairly significant stakes, and divine honor would compel them to deliver.
Fred, on the other hand, was just pissed off. Royally. "Call your bet null, or I will find a way to end it outside the terms of your *stupid* bargain."
The two gods shared a glance, each reluctant to end the game. It had been such great fun until now! Watching them, Fred snorted. "Really guys? Really? For fuck's sake, just go on a date like normal people do." The gods were suddenly uncomfortable, looking anywhere but at each other or at Fred.
"Okay," sighed Fred, "I'm going to make this easier for you. I used to run a restaurant before you two started ruining my life. Help me get it back and I'll give you both a meal on the house, best seafood you've ever tasted. Candles, romance, the whole shebang. You can come there anytime you like. Just stop throwing me into near-death experiences. You're going to give me a condition."
Gods could not sample mortal food unless it was freely offered, so this was a fine gift. Shyly, Misfortune caught Medicine's eye. "I'm feeling contrary to my nature," he said, "How about it? A happy ending?" Just as bashful, Medicine found Misfortune's hand, looking up through his lashes. "Works for me."
"Sickening," Fred proclaimed. "I hope you both like scampi."
|
"Just do it already!"
Camilo was exhausted. Confused, exhausted, but mostly angry.
Camilo had been raised Catholic and had always done his best to live his life with the correct amount of faith and guilt that all good Catholics are expected to. From a young age God, the concept, the entity, the everything, had been a certainty and the point of everything, but for the last seven days he had begun to realize that that couldn't be right.
"What more do you want from me?!" Camilo cried while falling to his knees and throwing his arms, head, gaze, and desperation to the heavens. "How have I sinned? What have I done to deserve this Hell to occur? Accident after accident, death and rebirth, each time I accept the end I'm dragged back to this Earth. What type of torment is this? I repent for whatever it is I've done, just leave me alone!" Tears flowed like rivers among the newly scarred terrain that was his face. Burns and fresh wounds gave it texture. Deep bruises gave it color.
----
*From their place in the Universe where no human will ever see, two gods watch Camilo crying for God to show mercy.*
*-"These types are always so pathetic," the one god observed.*
*+"I suppose, but we've seen it enough. His creatures tend to be fragile," the other responded.*
*-"It's not just the fragility of these creatures, although He didn't really provide them with much to work with, it's these specific types: the devout religious ones who have all this faith and believe Him to be omniscient and omnipotent and yet they still feel the need to shout out their thoughts. If He's actually omniscient, he can read your mind. No need to go through this absurd, frankly disgusting, display."*
*+"They are odd, but I imagine that it provides some sort of relief."*
*-"I don't know. I'm glad I don't know. Anyways, I appear to be winning."*
*+"How do you mean? The bet was that you could kill him. I just have to keep him alive."*
*-"Are you serious?"*
*+"Yes."*
*-"Man, I thought I was supposed to be playing the role of the villain. Look at him. What kind of life is that? He's almost died four times since we started. He* officially *died 3 times, but since I'm a good sport I accepted your, frankly, ludicrous machinations to revive him."*
*+"But he is alive."*
*-"Barely. I don't see much more life in him."*
*+"So, it's your move again. How would you like to proceed?"*
*-"Well, I've tried explosions, car accidents, a bear making his way into his room while he slept, lightning, an accidental discharge, forcing him to insult an Italian man's mother, and anal impalement on a fence post, I think maybe it's time to get creative."*
*+"What do you have in mind?"*
*-"How about we go and talk to him?"*
*+"I don't think He would be too happy about that."*
*-"Oh damn Him and whatever He decides. He's never cared about any of his creations, at least not past their inception. He creates then moves on, creates more then moves on. If things get destroyed in the process He either doesn't care or simply doesn't notice. He could make all of these 'problems' go away. Actually, He could do better than just making them go away, he could make the possibility of them ever having* even *occurred an impossibility. But He chooses not to, so, as some humans say, fuck Him."*
*+"Fine, let's see what you can do."*
----
Camilo convulsed on the ground, his tears pooling beneath his body. Everything hurt. Not just physical hurt, not just emotional hurt; spiritual, existential hurt. The type of hurt only a sane man glimpsing his first moments of insanity understands. What could he do? What could he possibly do? These accidents and freak occurrences couldn't just be that, accidents. These things were sent. Something was doing this to him. It had to be The Father. In his understanding of the World, He was the only One who possessed the power necessary to cause such things. What did Camilo have to do to alleviate that?
"What," *sobs*, "must," *sobs*, "I," *sobs*, "do?"
*"Nothing."* A voice like the pleasant susurrous of a warm summer rain. *"All you have to do is nothing."*
Camilo ceased crying. He lifted his head, shiny with tears. "Wh- who said that?"
*"I did."* A grey kitten with green eyes sat crouched in front of Camilo.
"What are you?"
*"I have come to end your suffering."*
"God? Are you God? Why are you a cat?"
*"A kitten, not a cat. I have noticed that most of your kind seem to enjoy them."*
"Oh." Camilo decided that he had finally gone completely crazy. Perhaps the things that had happened to him this past week had not actually happened. "Well are you God, kitten?"
*"Please. I show you the courtesy of actually showing up. I'm definitely not Him."* The kitten started to pace back and forth. *"And by the way, all of you are very wrong about what exactly He is and what He does. You've gotten a few things right, but mostly, you lack all understanding of what He is, what He does, and what he* can *do."*
"Oh." Yep, Camilo had lost it. He was surprised how sobering insanity could be though. The hurt, every last bit of it, just seemed to evaporate, along with his tears. "So why are you here?"
*"I'm hear to give you an out. I can end your life right here and right now. What do you say?"*
*"Not so fast!"* A voice like a bong being cleared interjected from just behind Camilo. There was a small rust-colored cat.
"What?" Camilo looked at the cat and back to the kitten, then back to the cat. "Are you a kitten creature like that one?"
*"No,"* the cat responded, *"I am a cat. You guys like cats, right?"*
*"No, they like kittens,"* the kitten retorted.
*"Cats and kittens are the same thing,"* the cat pointed out.
*"Yeah, but kittens are baby cats, therefore much cuter,"* the kitten more precisely pointed out.
"But why are *you* here?" Camilo asked the rust cat.
*"Well, I too am here to give you an option. You see,"* with this the cat started pacing back and forth, *"I am here to give you the option to live."* Rusty cat sounded quite pleased with himself.
"Why?"
The cat stopped pacing. It was not prepared for that response.
"Why would I want to live? Either I am going crazy or God hates me or possibly both. Why would I want this continue? This past week has been hell. If there is the possibility of change, either ceasing to exist or a new existence, I will take it."
*"You can't do that? Think about what you're saying. You can't choose to end your own life, that's the opposite of what humans are supposed to want. Sure, some have chosen suicide, but they're dumb, and dead, so they can't respond to being called dumb. You can't choose that though!"* The cat looked quite flustered. It turned its attention to the kitten, *"It isn't fair!"*
*"Hey, a bets a bet. We never set any rules that this couldn't be done."* The kitten looked quite smug and satisfied with itself, as kittens often do.
With this Camilo perked up. Well he appeared to more than perk up. "A bet? A bet?! A bet! What do you mean a bet?
*"Sure,"* the cat and kitten replied in unison.
*"I bet that I could kill you," the kitten indicated itself.
*"And that I could keep you alive,"* the cat nodded.
*"If I win,"* the kitten continued, *"I get a Snickers."*
Camilo started to turn red.
*"If I win,"* the cat added, *"I get a bag of Skittles."*
Camilo exploded. Literally.
*"Guess who gets a Snickers!"*
|
|
[WP] A god bets to another god that he can kill a random man no matter how much the other tries to save him. After several near-death situations, the man meets both of them
|
"So do you accept?"
"Absolutely."
Hades knew he had Zeus this time. There was no way he could protect anyone from the god of the Underworld.
"Who, then?"
"Hmm... How about-I dunno-him?"
He pointed to a lonely farmer driving his cart through town.
"Very well. Give it all you got Hades, you know what's on the line."
They went down to Earth together. Zeus disguised himself as a muscular man, Hades a snake. Hades wriggled up to the cart and bit the wheel, holding on with all his might with his tail dug into the ground. The man looked down and drew his sword at the sight of him.
The man swung at the snake, but could not hit it. Every swing was met with the cunning snake-turned God's swift movement. Hades tried to strike, to just get one bite, but the man blocked his every attempt. Zeus saw all that was going on, and grabbed Hades round the neck.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes. Thank you, kind sir."
Zeus span the snake around and tossed him away. "It's no bother," he bellowed,"I'm happy to help. You were headed to the market, yes?"
"Correct. I go every month to sell my grain."
"I was just headed there myself. May I ride with you?"
"Yes. Just hop in the cart."
On the way, Zeus saw the snake again. He kept a careful eye, but it didn't attempt anything.
They arrived at the market. A pale man approached them.
"Achilles! How are you?"he asked Zeus.
"Adequate, I suppose."
"Please excuse us." He pulled Zeus away. "That was quite clever, separating me from him."
"I do my best."
"I still have more tricks up my sleeve. You'll see."
Hades pointed to a cart. Before Zeus could blink, the horses immediately ran towards the man. Zeus jumped just in time to push him out of the way.
"Are you okay, again?"
"Yes, thank you again. They call you Achilles, right?"
"Well, yes and no."
"What do you mean?"
"In due time."
A man rushed up from behind. Sword drawn, he swung down, but Zeus blocked it just in time.
"Why are you protecting me like this?"
"Pay it no mind," he said as the man toppled over. "You see I merely-"
A rumbling was heard. Screams followed a massive hole in the Earth emerging beneath their feet. Zeus picked up the man, jumping over every obstacle to get him to safety. A large magma figure emerged from the hole.
"WELL, WELL, WELL, MY BOY! YOU SEEM TO BE QUITE THE LUCKY ONE! WHY, EVEN THE GODS ARE ON YOUR SIDE!" it bellowed.
"What-what's going on?"
"Fine. HADES YOU SHALL NOT WIN!"
"Ah, but you see, Zeus my boy, I already am."
He snatched at the man. Zeus moved quickly, swiftly moving from danger.
"GIVE UP!" He said as he shot at Hades with lightning. The beast flinched, and turned into a human form. The hole closed.
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"
"You see sir, Hades and I had a bit of an agreement."
"A gentleman's challenge, so to speak."
"Yes. I apologize, but your life was on the line for the sake of this challenge."
"What was the reward?"
"Well, given as Hades lost-"
"I did not!"
Zeus smacked him across the face. "Okay fine, Here."
A wolf hound appeared in his hand.
"A wolf? You nearly killed me for a *wolf*?"
"No, no. Not just a wolf. This is the son of Cerberus. If Hades had this, there would be no end to the power filling the Underworld."
"Yes, and now, it is yours, Zeus, my boy."
|
"I don't fucking care if your gods." He stared at them. "I almost died over twenty times to you. My family, is on the streets because of you. My childern, are starving as I can't make a living."
"Your just a puny mortal though, how can you have feelings?" replied the god of death as he sharpened his teeth with a knife.
"For gods, you don't seem to have a very high IQ."
"Thats no way to treat us that way! We are gods! I even tried to save you!" replied the god of life.
"Tried to save me? Tried to save me? You could of stopped the explosion that destroyed my livihood, but no, you have to magicily teleport me into a jail cell, with evidence that I did a crime that doesn't even exist. I mean, what even is Godicide?"
Both the gods stared at him, thinking he was a crazy lunatic.
"Look, we were just bored. Calm down, you die and you won't remember this, you have a short life like all mortals." replied them both, if not at the same time.
"There's three differences between you guys and me. First off, I have a life, and I want to live that to the best of my ability, even if its my only one. Second off, I don't ruin peoples lives. Third, I'm not an idiot." he said as he marched off a cliff.
The god of death laughed greedily, as the god of life rolled his eyes and handed him some cash. "You always win in the end, what is the point" said the god of life.
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Shipyards are closed.
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[WP] You live in Madagascar, the only place untouched by a deadly disease that has been wiping out the entire world.
|
My nostrils flare, caressed by the sweet fumes of the nearby juice bar, preparing a fresh smoothie for an elderly African gentleman in a kitschy Hawaiian shirt. A gentle rhythmic song pours from a Chinese woman's phone setup, synchronizing with the lackadaisical turning of the windmill off the coast. Its propellers greet the island with a quick wave, before vanishing behind the concrete wall looming along the coast. The song starts buzzes out of my mind. We're all Salvosians now, I guess. Or humans. Just humans.
It's been 5 years since the virus emerged as a global threat, baffling practitioners, national health agencies, and the World Health Organization alike. 3 years since the creation of Salvos, the island paradise funded by concerned libertarians (and rapidly converting wealthy statists) who heard news of the first cities quarantined in their homelands. 2 years since the death toll passed 1 billion. And one year since I won the lottery to enter the island.
My gaze was that of a carbon nanofiber, or whatever it was that I had read on the internet way back then, the next big thing for humanity. Unbreakable. Except through the extermination of an entire field of study. Little viral Hitlers, Stalins, Mladics, Habyarimanas, picking off all they disagree with, and they're not a very agreeable bunch. I had been contemplating that very thought for 11 months, in that spot, with that jar of Vegemite in my hands.
Occasionally, it shows up in my dreams, and why shouldn't it? It was the only heirloom I could bring. The only thing I have left of my previous life. The only reminder of that shithead knob I called my best friend.
That last beer, that last hug. Vegemite. Plane. The kid who held that ticket in his hand. The hand that I held with my own, the hand that I held to his throat. Children could bring a guardian. He's dead. His mother is dead. His friends are dead. My friends are dead. A sharp intake of breath, and I'm in the dark. The night crowd are shouting and cheering. Probably another country terminated. Another wager won. Every night for the last year.
He said before I left, to my quizzical face, twisted and tearful, that the vile black curd in that tiny yellow jar was to remind me of the life I'd have. And especially the lives I was leaving behind. Everyone knew of Salvos' luxuries. It was salt to wound, saliva to face of those dying, waiting for their turn and turning to animals. Oddly poetic line of thinking for a man I once saw piss in a fountain.
My train of thought is shattered as I witness a flash of light in the distance. Too far away to tell what it is, but too close for comfort. Nuclear strike? Or defensive strike from the island? I guess either way, it wasn't here. Salvos Sanctum. Salvos: Relative Safety, Welcome To The Number One Island Resort Prison Thing Where Everyone Isn't Dying; Wish You Weren't Here! This place needs a slogan.
No one around me is aware of the flash. No one sees the plume of smoke rising in the distance.
The woman with her stereo has wandered away, humming the song. Earworms. Auditory hallucinations? And the elderly man is sleeping in a chair, his gut exposed and a novel splayed on the ground, pages 20 and 21 out of 400 greeting the moist air. Aneurysm? Sleep Apnea. I see a volleyball game across the beach. I briefly consider joining. I briefly consider getting a smoothie and going to see a classic film. I briefly consider standing up, beating myself with a bat as hard as I can in the face and sleeping in my own blood. I do none of these. I just sit there, staring at the water flowing closer to me, then less close. Then further away. I knew how far. It did not help.
|
It's almost dark enough to move. Being holed up all day gives me a headache, and I'm looking for the night air to cure that. I rigged a spear out of a branch and the metal siding from the other night. I plan to practice hunting with it as soon as I find another hideout. More new people were getting water at the creek today, which means I have to find a different water source. More people means they're either fleeing the refugee camps, or expanding them.
I wouldn't blame them if they were fleeing. The camps have become slums, with powerful lords reigning over them. Everyone was all about *helping for the sake of humanity* until the ports closed and the rations stopped. A few groups of scared and dangerous people started hoarding food and medical rations both for themselves and for profit and they'll take anything valuable as payment. Jewelry, sex, other people; they don't really care as long as they benefit. As the rations ran out, they started fighting over the farms. A Red Cross militia was formed to try and restore order, but most of them were killed and the slumlords ended up controlling all the food. When they started kidnapping doctors so they could charge for medical treatment, I left. I wasn't safe around humans anymore.
They're unnaturally violent, and it's only a matter of time before someone infected gets through. Some idiot will be trying to save his kid or his wife and sneak them into the camp. Nobody's ever survived it for long. In the hundreds of patients we saw, only two made it to week 6. Once you get it, all you are is a threat to the rest of us, and if I intend to live, then they're all a threat to me. So, I stay out here. It's kind of nice being alone. I'm responsible for myself and only myself. Besides, it's not like I'm harming society; I just don't help them. I'm *surviving*... just surviving.
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Shipyards are closed.
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[WP] You live in Madagascar, the only place untouched by a deadly disease that has been wiping out the entire world.
|
"Nervous?" I asked.
The young rookie next to me nodded. His arms were barely large enough to hold the rifle, and the weight of it pushed his torso back as he walked, but he soldiered on by my side as we made our way to the top of the cliff. Late as it was, the moon shone pearly white over the cliffs, marking our path through the rocks.
We set camp right next to the cliff. I watched as the rookie checked the condition of his weapon, and then looked out nervously to the sea.
"Nothing really happens most nights," I tell him. I reach into my pack and grab two pieces of rice bread, one of which I leave to the rookie. "You have family, kid?"
"My mum died in the continent," the kid said. "She left to visit family. I live with my dad and my sister now."
I mentally cursed this stupid rookie. Had he revealed any of this information to anyone but me... I liked him enough to let it pass. But one of the unspoken rules of us irregulars was that we never admitted to having had contacts in the continent. It could get you into trouble.
We also don't talk about the lack of supplies. Ever since we cut out contact from the outside world, things have become more and more scarce. Not that I think anywhere else is better. They're probably too busy dying out there to keep on producing many things, but I'd kill for a cigarette right now, or a bottle of good alcohol, instead of the horrible shit the government had started producing out of rice.
"I see something," the rookie said suddenly. I looked up over the cliff.
"Well spotted."
The vessel was but a dark speck waving around the valleys and hills that appeared and disappeared on the ocean. I reached into my pack and pulled out my binoculars. One, two, three... I cursed as the vessel was lifted up and the moonlight revealed to me the silhouette of a child huddled between two larger figures. They were all dressed in dark colours, with their faces covered to hide from the accusing glare of the moon. It was hard to tell, but I calculated around forty people in the vessel.
I checked my cartridge and got into position. The rookie looked at me and imitated me. I could feel his small body shaking next to mine.
"The first time is the hardest, but it gets easier," I told him. "Remember why we're doing this."
"I'm protecting my family," the rookie said.
"Good kid. Now shoot."
I watched him carefully aim his shot. He pulled the trigger. There was a loud explosion, and the water three feet away from the boat sprayed water all over the startled passengers. The night slowly filled with screaming. I cursed as I saw one or two people leap out of the boat and into the dark waters. It would be harder to get them like that.
Eager to correct my rookie's mistake, I began firing my shots. The rookie's face was full of tears, but he too began shooting. Now everyone was jumping out of the boat and into the water, and they became impossible to pick one by one. I reached into my radio and reported the sighting to the main office. It would be a long night of patrolling the beach and making sure no one reached our shores.
"I... I'm sorry..." the rookie said.
"We've got work to do," I replied. "Remember why we're doing this. We're protecting our families, giving ourselves a chance to live and thrive. And, whatever you do, don't look them in the eyes. You will never be able to forget the eyes."
|
It's almost dark enough to move. Being holed up all day gives me a headache, and I'm looking for the night air to cure that. I rigged a spear out of a branch and the metal siding from the other night. I plan to practice hunting with it as soon as I find another hideout. More new people were getting water at the creek today, which means I have to find a different water source. More people means they're either fleeing the refugee camps, or expanding them.
I wouldn't blame them if they were fleeing. The camps have become slums, with powerful lords reigning over them. Everyone was all about *helping for the sake of humanity* until the ports closed and the rations stopped. A few groups of scared and dangerous people started hoarding food and medical rations both for themselves and for profit and they'll take anything valuable as payment. Jewelry, sex, other people; they don't really care as long as they benefit. As the rations ran out, they started fighting over the farms. A Red Cross militia was formed to try and restore order, but most of them were killed and the slumlords ended up controlling all the food. When they started kidnapping doctors so they could charge for medical treatment, I left. I wasn't safe around humans anymore.
They're unnaturally violent, and it's only a matter of time before someone infected gets through. Some idiot will be trying to save his kid or his wife and sneak them into the camp. Nobody's ever survived it for long. In the hundreds of patients we saw, only two made it to week 6. Once you get it, all you are is a threat to the rest of us, and if I intend to live, then they're all a threat to me. So, I stay out here. It's kind of nice being alone. I'm responsible for myself and only myself. Besides, it's not like I'm harming society; I just don't help them. I'm *surviving*... just surviving.
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Shipyards are closed.
|
[WP] You live in Madagascar, the only place untouched by a deadly disease that has been wiping out the entire world.
|
*Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.*
Madagascar. It was the place it all started, and now the place it would end. Two years ago this was where one monkey bite would change the course of human history. The resultant disease- an airborne ebola strain deep from the jungle- would do more than change it. It would end it.
And now, as I stood outside my tent and peered over the ocean, I could feel the last breaths of the few survivors across the waves. At night I can still hear their screams as I fled the mainland a year ago echoing in my head. And still see the buildings crumbling, once symbols of humanity's power now marks of their fall.
To dust you shall return.
I felt a tug at my shirt and looked down to see a small hand grasping the tattered fabric. A face framed with blond curls peeked up at me, banishing my reverie.
"What is it, Ruth?" I said through my beard.
"It's lesson time!" She exclaimed, with a skip. "And you're late." Now she wagged a finger as if to scold me, and I felt a smile push itself to my lips. She was so small, and over the past year had even begun to call me daddy- something my own stepson refused to do for five years. But he was gone now, gone with the rest of them.
She pulled me to a clearing,where twenty other children sat in a circle waiting. Two books were open on a stump before them, one for me and another for them to share. Behind them, in a makeshift shed, there were two copies of every text book I could find before fleeing the mainland. From Aristotle's works, to Calculus, to History, each subject was there, kept safe from the rain.
"Sir," said a boy older than the others, his uncut hair drifting past his eyebrows, "How much longer do we stay here? Is it safe to leave?"
"Shem," I said, "you know as well as I do that we must stay here longer. We cannot risk going back- we must wait until the storm of sickness has subsided. Here is where we are safe."
"How are we safe here? This is where the first case began?"
"Yes, and everyone left out of fright, taking if back with them mainland. The disease is airborne, and no one is left on this island to transmit it to us. I assure you this is the last place they will look for sanctuary. We must wait here."
Shem cast his eyes downward, along with many of the others. They were not untouched by loss before the disease spread- when I had rescued them from their abandoned orphanage, each had already felt the pain of parents that had given them up or died. The disease took their home from them now, and many of their friends.
It was time to begin the lesson, before they could begin to brood.
"Shem! Can you fetch two copies of Secondary Literature for me?"
"Yes, sir." And he entered the shed, rustling around the contents for the texts. A wind rustled trough the clearing, swaying the branches of trees, particularly an Olive tree that stretched above the shed. Though it's leaves rustled, the fruit was not yet ripe, and none fell to the ground. The cooing of birds filled the clearing as we waited, but they remained out of sight among the treetops.
"I can't find it," he called, "Noah, can you help me?"
I sighed and helped him sort among the books, gingerly handling them so they would not become worn. After a few minutes, we found it under a copy of Circuits and Electronics, and I sat on the stump to read. Twenty pairs of eyes rose toward me, awaiting the story.
"Before I begin, Shem, please close the door of the Ark." He stood, and shut the shed, enclosing the pairs of books inside.
"Now turn to page forty, at the top of the page. Read along with me."
I begin, and worry crossing my brow. We had plenty of supplies here, but I feared the disease would find a way to our island, and destroy us, one of humanity's few remnants. My throat cracked as I finished the poem that was today's reading:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings,
Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains; round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch away."
*To dust you shall return.*
|
Pitch black. it's 3am. I'm awake in the middle of the night again, another nightmare. The awful things I've done for survival, it haunts me, it seeps into my subconscious. I haven't had a good nights sleep since the outbreak.
A year ago, I was a Lt. sniper in the Navy Seals for 6 years, stationed in Somalia. Our entire operating headquarters was demolished after thousands of infected Somalians and Ugandans stormed the base. They killed everything and everyone, looking for food, hope, revenge, anything. Luckily, my squad was on a mission in Southern Muqdisho on a unit to find a warlord that had been raiding oil rigs. I often felt like a mercenary for the U.S. government, something I struggled with. The same government that unleashed a bio weapon on the Three Gorges Dam water supply on China after they launched ICBM's on the Japanese coast. What they didn't expect was the bio weapon to be so contagious, to travel so freely from continent to continent. Billions died, maybe it was mother nature's way of getting rid of a 'cancer', or maybe it was humanity's refusal to accept reality.
Anyways, our troops watched from the jungle outside the base, we heard the screams. God the screams, I'll never forget them. Sounds of people doing the worst things out of desperation. We snuck into a secure locked barracks that couldn't be raided and loaded it with everything we could, food, ammo, keys to the Mark V. We radioed in headquarters in Heidelberg, Germany. Nothing. We tried to contact everyone. Nothing. Our demolition expert Redford brought out the satellite feed, maybe we would find something on the news. What we found horrified us, most channels were gone, there was a few that were still in operation by a brave few souls, who would certainly die, to report the news in it's final hour. They reported mass hysteria, a disease that traveled through water supply or saliva. It would make people turn into the most nightmarish things. Their anger would intensify, they would become almost rabid. The reports said that once infected a human had 72 hours to live before the blood would become entirely intoxicated. The only way a human could live longer was to inject someone's blood to dilute yours. Doing this would only buy you another 72 hours or less depending on how much blood you injected. But it was something, another kiss goodbye, another hug - people will do anything to delay the inevitable. This led to rabid murders, desperation, hell. Entire cities were vanquished.
When we heard this we headed to Port Basaso in Somalia via Humvee. We wanted to get in the Mark V. and go somewhere, anywhere remote. When we got to the port there was mass hysteria, gunfire, violent mobs, trying to flee. Our squad of 8 unloaded. We locked and loaded our M4a1's and headed into formation to get to the boat. As soon as the mob saw us, they headed right for us, we were loaded with everything they would want - supplies. Dan our suppressing fire guy began to open fire as they charged at us with machetes. They fell like dominos. I watched the docks as guys with AK47s began to lift them in our general direction. Boom, direct shot to the head, another one, another one. I just kept firing. I just didn't care, I needed to get out. Dan says over his shoulder, "this is sickening". He turns his head, and a .223 bullet flies right into his gut. I immediately spot the guy that fired and take his head clean off. The most dangerous people are those that have nothing to lose. Sgt Reed takes him by the kevlar vest and drags Dan, "cover us", he yelled.
As we cleared the path to the boat, we began to board the boat. We hoisted Dan aboard, his gut bleeding profusely. Wait, Dan says, "I'm out man, I'm fucking out, I can feel it, let me take the turret." "I'll cover you guys, I'll unload these fuckers with the SAW machine gun", he shouts with tears in his eyes. He gathers himself to the turret with everything he has while we start the boat. He starts firing into the crowd that is now showering us with bullets. The boat begins to move, it's hard interior taking most of the bullets. A guy with a rocket launcher appears from a truck, loads, readies to fire. Dan takes point and begins unloading everything he had on him, but it's too late the RPG rocket has been fired, and directly hits him in the turret. The boat is still intact but the turret is smoldering with what is left with Dan.
We left the docks and turn on the GPS. We are fully loaded with fuel, we can head out for months if we needed, so we headed to the only place that is relatively untouched by humanity, the only island on East Africa - Madagascar.
When we arrived, we began an operation I masterminded, called iron wall. Which basically was the 7 of us of blocking all forms of transportation into the islands. Our demolition expert made a nice, homemade assortments of bomb, out of fertilizer, it basically lit up any chance of any large watercraft on making a landing on the island. When we arrived we worked with the military to safeguard the island. We sent off anyone that was a burden to the island in large cargo ships. They probably died, drifting out to sea, but they had to so the rest of us could live.
As I wake up again, the emergency sirens are blaring from the town centre. Corporal Davidson, our engineer storms into my room. "You up man, You up? We got cargo planes coming from all directions, some civilians, some armed mercenaries. Redford already blew up a temporary housing unit full of em after being fired upon. It appears they are landing all over the island."
Davidson goes on..."Our intelligence from Redford and Briggs after capturing a few suggest these people are wealthy, wealthy people. They bought their way out of disaster, I'm not sure how, and intend to take this island as theirs."
Let's get to Redford, call MMI units from around the island and execute operation Containment. Let's get control of this island again.
|
What is the drink, why do you buy it?
|
[WP] "Every day I buy the same drink..."
|
Every day I buy the same drink, at the same place...
A cup of coffee. Normal-sized, with cream. I add exactly two and a half bags of sugar, and I stir it exactly fifteen times, counter-clockwise. That is *just* how she liked her coffee. Now that she is gone, this is all I can do to keep her alive, to continue to remember her.
I had promised I would always stand by her side. I would always protect her. I would never let anything hurt her. But when **it** came, I couldn't do anything. I was forced to stand by, watching as **it** slowly killed her, eating away at her strength, her happiness, her will to live.
And one day, she wasn't there any more.
It's been two years since then. Two years of sadness, of emptiness in my life. And, every day, I still buy the same drink.
|
And it's always a Founders Porter.
It's not just for the drink itself, which is the most perfect beer on earth, with its dark, sweet notes, rich with malted barley. Not just for the smell, that roasted coffee and chocolate hint to it, nor the most wonderful mouth-feel of any brew; neither too creamy nor too watery. I have had many beers, but sadly, none can compare. But... there's another reason I buy it everyday.
I'm alone.
I live away from my family, away from my friends and I have difficulty making more. I like going to the bar, because at least I can have someone to talk with. It's nice to see a face that is finally glad to see mine.
|
What is the drink, why do you buy it?
|
[WP] "Every day I buy the same drink..."
|
Every day, I buy the same drink.
"A large Chai Latte with soy, please."
I don't even really like Chai anymore. I could go without it. But I can't go without those few seconds I get from the charming smile behind the counter.
"So, how was your weekend?" he asks as he writes down my order, adding my name without asking.
A flirty smile alights my face, "Pretty good, thanks. But I was buried in assessments."
"That's too bad, hardly counts as a weekend," he takes my card. "Will that be on savings?"
It's always on savings. "Yep."
I can feel the moments slipping away, as I type my PIN into the machine. "What about you?"
"It's was good," he smiled and handed back my card. "See you later."
And with that my moments were gone, "Probably tomorrow."
And as I stepped away another customer came up behind me and we broke eye contact. I'd spent another $5 to enjoy a few moments of being noticed.
|
And it's always a Founders Porter.
It's not just for the drink itself, which is the most perfect beer on earth, with its dark, sweet notes, rich with malted barley. Not just for the smell, that roasted coffee and chocolate hint to it, nor the most wonderful mouth-feel of any brew; neither too creamy nor too watery. I have had many beers, but sadly, none can compare. But... there's another reason I buy it everyday.
I'm alone.
I live away from my family, away from my friends and I have difficulty making more. I like going to the bar, because at least I can have someone to talk with. It's nice to see a face that is finally glad to see mine.
|
What is the drink, why do you buy it?
|
[WP] "Every day I buy the same drink..."
|
Every day I buy the same drink, at the same place...
A cup of coffee. Normal-sized, with cream. I add exactly two and a half bags of sugar, and I stir it exactly fifteen times, counter-clockwise. That is *just* how she liked her coffee. Now that she is gone, this is all I can do to keep her alive, to continue to remember her.
I had promised I would always stand by her side. I would always protect her. I would never let anything hurt her. But when **it** came, I couldn't do anything. I was forced to stand by, watching as **it** slowly killed her, eating away at her strength, her happiness, her will to live.
And one day, she wasn't there any more.
It's been two years since then. Two years of sadness, of emptiness in my life. And, every day, I still buy the same drink.
|
every day i buy the same drink.
i'm not lonely, i'm not even alone. but i fall into these habits in order to feel a sense of community.
that sounds strange. i have people around me, but we don't share any common rituals. we happen to exist in the physical spaces near each other. but we don't share any commonality.
instead of these shared rituals of the past, i find sameness in my routine. i'm not lonely, although i often feel alone. every day i buy the same drink. it's a drink that i add a little spice packet to, to add some flavor.
the spice packet doesn't **just** add flavor though. it makes the aloneness, that feeling of isolation but not loneliness, melt away into the sameness. the spice packet gives me some clarity, some definition to an otherwise vague existence.
that, and if one day i choose to not buy the same drink, i will enter the great unknown, alone.
|
What is the drink, why do you buy it?
|
[WP] "Every day I buy the same drink..."
|
Every day, I buy the same drink.
"A large Chai Latte with soy, please."
I don't even really like Chai anymore. I could go without it. But I can't go without those few seconds I get from the charming smile behind the counter.
"So, how was your weekend?" he asks as he writes down my order, adding my name without asking.
A flirty smile alights my face, "Pretty good, thanks. But I was buried in assessments."
"That's too bad, hardly counts as a weekend," he takes my card. "Will that be on savings?"
It's always on savings. "Yep."
I can feel the moments slipping away, as I type my PIN into the machine. "What about you?"
"It's was good," he smiled and handed back my card. "See you later."
And with that my moments were gone, "Probably tomorrow."
And as I stepped away another customer came up behind me and we broke eye contact. I'd spent another $5 to enjoy a few moments of being noticed.
|
every day i buy the same drink.
i'm not lonely, i'm not even alone. but i fall into these habits in order to feel a sense of community.
that sounds strange. i have people around me, but we don't share any common rituals. we happen to exist in the physical spaces near each other. but we don't share any commonality.
instead of these shared rituals of the past, i find sameness in my routine. i'm not lonely, although i often feel alone. every day i buy the same drink. it's a drink that i add a little spice packet to, to add some flavor.
the spice packet doesn't **just** add flavor though. it makes the aloneness, that feeling of isolation but not loneliness, melt away into the sameness. the spice packet gives me some clarity, some definition to an otherwise vague existence.
that, and if one day i choose to not buy the same drink, i will enter the great unknown, alone.
|
What is the drink, why do you buy it?
|
[WP] "Every day I buy the same drink..."
|
Every day I buy the same drink, at the same place...
A cup of coffee. Normal-sized, with cream. I add exactly two and a half bags of sugar, and I stir it exactly fifteen times, counter-clockwise. That is *just* how she liked her coffee. Now that she is gone, this is all I can do to keep her alive, to continue to remember her.
I had promised I would always stand by her side. I would always protect her. I would never let anything hurt her. But when **it** came, I couldn't do anything. I was forced to stand by, watching as **it** slowly killed her, eating away at her strength, her happiness, her will to live.
And one day, she wasn't there any more.
It's been two years since then. Two years of sadness, of emptiness in my life. And, every day, I still buy the same drink.
|
Every day I buy the same drink. At sunrise, when the crests of the waves are just limned in orange, I walk from my hut to the two trees on the island. There, nestled in a low branch beneath a funneling cluster of leaves, sits a wide cupped shell glistening with water.
I've been on this island eight days, but have discovered that its gods are both facetious and cruel by turns. When the skies begin to cool as the sun drops, I scour the beach for gifts to present them. Sometimes the tide washes very little onto the sand. An interesting clump of kelp, a glossy smooth chunk of wood. Other times, glass gems or unusual shells line the beach. On the west side of the island, where the sun goes to hide, I place my currency, hoping that it will purchase a day's worth of cool, clear water on the following morn.
The water shell is an indication of their reaction to these offerings. When pleased at a particularly rare gift, the shell is brimming. At other times, when my hunting has been unsuccessful, only a few glistening drops cling to the shell's lining.
Today, my ninth on the island, I wake as usual. I'm feeling weaker as the days pass; too many days of scarce fishing and angry gods. I am hopeful today. Last night, A large white feather was washed upon the shore, shining and pure and proof that life other than aquatic might be near at hand. I had seen no bird since I had woken up on the island days ago, half drowned and blinking with surprise to find myself alive.
I trudge to the trees and stare. I collapse to my knees. The shell, that font of life, is gone. Not fallen, not broken, simply gone.
The gods have refused my payment. Closing my eyes to block out the sight of an empty branch, I begin to cry, to plead for credit; I promise them future gifts with interest. I reopen my eyes, praying to see the shell in place once again and full of water, knowing that this may be my last lifeline.
Credit denied.
|
.
|
[WP] You've been cursed to live the same day for a thousand years and you're 24 hours away from freedom.
|
I remember a man once - it may have been many years ago, it may have been yesterday - but they said, ten thousand hours.
Ten thousand hours is how long you need to become an expert at something. *Anything*.
And that is a long, long time to spend focusing a skill. For an office worker, slaving away 8 hours a day, that's almost three and a half *years* with no days off. For someone who doesn't need to sleep, who could just improve 24 hours a day, that's still over a year of dedication.
And then there's me.
I sleep less than an hour a night. Why should I try for more? Every morning I wake up exactly as rested as I was on the morning before. When I realized I didn't need the full night, I began to spend the extra time getting sharper - better - faster - stronger.
There are men that history admires for their skill and superiority - Alexandros of Macedon; Gaius Iulius Caesar of Rome; Socrates and Charlemagne, Darius and Columbus, and countless others. They spent their lives honing their abilities, becoming masters in their field.
And yet, if you put all their lives together - they have lived less than half as long as I have.
I have spent more time fighting than they even had to simply live. I have devoted more hours to attacking, killing, countering, parrying, planning, torturing, and destroying than anyone in history has ever spent on *anything*. *Ever*.
I've done the math; I am an expert nearly *900 times over*. In short, in all of history, I am the most deadly person that has ever lived.
For you see, I never ran out of targets; all of mine awaited me anew each morning.
I never ran out of time; I could pinpoint every weak spot and fix it.
And I never - never once throughout all the years of practice and planning - forgot the face of the man who put me here. I will get out tomorrow, and only a day will have passed for him; I hope he enjoyed it, for it will be his last.
Luckily for him, I'm going to make it feel like it's a thousand years long.
|
"This is it." This was the day he yearned for, this was the day that he dreamed of.
He sat on his favorite hill watching the sunset, as he had done everyday. "I don't have to do this anymore, I can finally live." Tears streamed down his face, and he wasn't sure if he should feel relieved, or heartbroken.
He woke up with fright every night, and the sound of crumpling metal would never leave his ears or thoughts. "Finally, I don't have to watch her die anymore." The tears streamed harder, "But I just won't be able to see her anymore, it'll all be over. Why does this have to end? I love her so much."
He stood up, tears still falling from his face, and proceeded down the hill. If he couldn't see her anymore, he'd make it the best day he could possibly think of.
|
[WP] a man's seemingly innocuous habit causes trouble on a national (or greater) scale
|
He finally had something to rub into the face of all those snobbish brats from high school at the upcoming reunion. He was working for the NSA. Just saying it aloud sent shivers down his spine. Sure, he was a secretary/errand boy/phonebook for the manager of the cafeteria, but those were just details. The first day on the job had been a whirlwind of paperwork, confidentiality agreements, and stern warnings. Despite the seemingly menial nature of his job, the vetting associated with even stepping foot inside the building was a formidable gauntlet.
Even the orientation was slightly terrifying. Between the NSA, CIA, KGB, and the other iterations of clandestine organizations around the world essentially every ordinary item had the potential to be a listening device, spy gadget, or nuclear warhead. Nothing was to come into the facility from the outside because the surveillance rhetoric between the US and Russia had reached a fever pitch and nothing was to be trusted. One of the fellow orientees quipped that he was surprised they were even allowed to wear clothes in to the building, his chuckle was strangled by the unwavering glare he received in return.
This first meeting of the day was not really something to write home about, a supply expense discussion about printable paper utilization and tonnage of waste being generated. Why the cafeteria manager was involved he had no idea. Despite the inherent novelty of attending a meeting at the fabled NSA headquarters, a normal human can only withstand so much talk about how many reams of paper each floor was using. His mind started to drift as he gazed around the room and he tapped his foot in a disjointed rhythm on the floor. His black rubber soles bounced in rapid succession on the thin layer of carpet. Tap. Tap Tap Tap. Tap.
--------------------
The Russians stared at each other in grim confirmation. "Dagestanskiye Ogni." Their percussion sensors deciphering the morse code the capitalist pigs tried to use to communicate their target city. If thats how they were going to play it, the filthy Americans weren't going to be given the leisure of being the first to strike.
|
Felip Manzel walked along 127th street, chewing his gum and thinking about the day. The sky was a beautiful blue, as though the Earth were announcing a newborn baby boy. Birds chirped in the air, and the sounds of the city rose to a comfortable buzz. Felip loved New York in the summer.
He casually strolled past a flower stand, stopping to be cliche and smell the roses. Today was perfect, a balmy 72 degrees, the sun beginning to peak above the city-scape. He continued across the street, waving to the postman walking the opposite direction.
As he did every day, Felip purchased a newspaper from Charlie at the Daily News stand. As he did every day, he purchased a coffee from Meagan at the Human Bean. As he did every day, he spat out his gum on the street.
The gum sat, as gum would, sweating in the sun. It was solid when he spat it out, but the heat softened it to the texture of glue. A cab passed, and the gum stuck to the tire as if hailing the cab itself. It sank into the warm treads, effortlessly gripping the rubber, massaging the asphalt every time the tire turned.
As the cab moved into downtown, it splashed through a small puddle. The gum, still gooey from the warmth of the tire and the ground, was now wet with water. It decided, at long last, to drop to the ground, right as the cab passed through an intersection.
Senator Holly Carol crossed the intersection, waving away the exhaust from the cab that just passed. As she walked, her brand new Manolo aligned itself perfectly with the gum. Having had time to sit, the gum had stiffened a bit but was still pliable. It adhered nicely to the bottom of her shoe.
She got in her car, and the driver began navigating to the airport. The gum sat, on the bottom of her most expensive pair, as she spoke on the phone. She had a very important meeting soon with the President, to accept a nomination of Secretary of State. The announcement would be made in the morning.
The gum sat, cooling now, as Senator Carol was driven to the airport. It stuck solid to her shoe as she removed her bags and walked through the terminal. It remained fixed as she got in line behind other weary travelers.
The gum left small traces of itself on the carpet, although it remained mostly in position on her shoe. The Manolo had a slight tread on the bottom, probably mostly for appearances, and this allowed the gum to cool and harden on it's surface.
Senator Carol removed her shoes as she neared the front of the line. The TSA agent, a tired-looking 40 something father of two with thinning grey hair, waved her over. She placed her shoes in the bin, as well as her personal effects. She stood patiently waiting to walk through the body scanner. Without her phone on her, she had time to appreciate her position, and that she rarely had to fly commercial.
And after this trip, she would never have to fly commercial again.
And this is the beginning of the story about how Felip Manzel caused the largest airport shut-down in United States history.
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[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
If it has tits or tires and it's name be Beaula, it shall bring trouble to your house so it would probably be best to leave it where it is unless you are one who enjoys drama and screeching voices. If that be the case, go ahead, but only on Thursdays.
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"Those who apply varnish should repeat their actions"
"A Q-Tip in the ear is worth two in the nose"
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
Everything happens for a reason.
|
"Those who apply varnish should repeat their actions"
"A Q-Tip in the ear is worth two in the nose"
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
Those who speak kindness to those who speak malice are generally viewed as better people by an onlooking third party.
|
"Those who apply varnish should repeat their actions"
"A Q-Tip in the ear is worth two in the nose"
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
I used to visit my homeless uncle everyday in his cave after school. One day he ate my friend tommy... It wasn't until later I discovered my uncle was a bear.
Not mine, but seemed relevant.
|
"Those who apply varnish should repeat their actions"
"A Q-Tip in the ear is worth two in the nose"
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
A man does not appreciate a potato for the tiny sprout that escapes to the surface but for the part that insisted on staying buried in shit.
|
"Those who apply varnish should repeat their actions"
"A Q-Tip in the ear is worth two in the nose"
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
Better late than pregnant.
Birds of the same feather, make a good feather duster.
The early bird cock-a-doodle-doos.
Cleanliness is next to fatigue.
If ain't broke, ain't nobody got time fo dat.
Don't bite the hand that's feeding the animals.
You can't judge a book without a jury.
Two heads are scary.
Do unto others as you would chill out the weekend.
Honesty is such a lonely word.
|
"Those who apply varnish should repeat their actions"
"A Q-Tip in the ear is worth two in the nose"
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
when life gives you lemons; make lemonade. However you will still need to provide the water, pitcher, sugar and cups for yourself. it would also be prudent to go off a recipe and check ingredients for quality
|
"Those who apply varnish should repeat their actions"
"A Q-Tip in the ear is worth two in the nose"
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
He who walks in big shoes will find his feet blistered and his shoes will probably fall off, and then he will realize how stupid it was to buy such big shoes, and stop by a Payless after work to buy a new pair only to find that this pair is too small, and he will cry himself to sleep because his wife left him.
|
"Those who apply varnish should repeat their actions"
"A Q-Tip in the ear is worth two in the nose"
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
Behind the darkest cloud, there fly the largest geese.
|
"Those who apply varnish should repeat their actions"
"A Q-Tip in the ear is worth two in the nose"
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
I say unto thee, park not in thy neighbor's assigned parking space, lest thee be towed away and thy weekend filled with whining calls to thine parents as thou beggest for money to pay the impound fee.
|
"Those who apply varnish should repeat their actions"
"A Q-Tip in the ear is worth two in the nose"
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
The toad can tell the difference between a pencil and a picture frame, but the toad has no use for such things.
|
"Those who apply varnish should repeat their actions"
"A Q-Tip in the ear is worth two in the nose"
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
A fox can not sneak into Belgium across the telegraph wires.
(I had a dream where mythbusters proved this wrong, once)
|
"Those who apply varnish should repeat their actions"
"A Q-Tip in the ear is worth two in the nose"
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
Be as the man who drinks water from time to time and you will never be thirsty.
|
"Those who apply varnish should repeat their actions"
"A Q-Tip in the ear is worth two in the nose"
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
If it has tits or tires and it's name be Beaula, it shall bring trouble to your house so it would probably be best to leave it where it is unless you are one who enjoys drama and screeching voices. If that be the case, go ahead, but only on Thursdays.
|
Hear my words and heed them well
consider closely what you sell
for if it be that ugly vase
the missus will scream into thy face.
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
Everything happens for a reason.
|
Hear my words and heed them well
consider closely what you sell
for if it be that ugly vase
the missus will scream into thy face.
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
Those who speak kindness to those who speak malice are generally viewed as better people by an onlooking third party.
|
Hear my words and heed them well
consider closely what you sell
for if it be that ugly vase
the missus will scream into thy face.
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
I used to visit my homeless uncle everyday in his cave after school. One day he ate my friend tommy... It wasn't until later I discovered my uncle was a bear.
Not mine, but seemed relevant.
|
Hear my words and heed them well
consider closely what you sell
for if it be that ugly vase
the missus will scream into thy face.
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
A man does not appreciate a potato for the tiny sprout that escapes to the surface but for the part that insisted on staying buried in shit.
|
Hear my words and heed them well
consider closely what you sell
for if it be that ugly vase
the missus will scream into thy face.
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
Better late than pregnant.
Birds of the same feather, make a good feather duster.
The early bird cock-a-doodle-doos.
Cleanliness is next to fatigue.
If ain't broke, ain't nobody got time fo dat.
Don't bite the hand that's feeding the animals.
You can't judge a book without a jury.
Two heads are scary.
Do unto others as you would chill out the weekend.
Honesty is such a lonely word.
|
Hear my words and heed them well
consider closely what you sell
for if it be that ugly vase
the missus will scream into thy face.
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
Those who speak kindness to those who speak malice are generally viewed as better people by an onlooking third party.
|
A staple not filled, staples not.
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
I used to visit my homeless uncle everyday in his cave after school. One day he ate my friend tommy... It wasn't until later I discovered my uncle was a bear.
Not mine, but seemed relevant.
|
Proverb from Tom Tzu (Sun Tzu´s lesser known brother):
"Be flexible and lean ahead
Give way to the beast from bed
For to touch the seat in the early hour
Is really cold and will leave you sour
Keep it down throughout the session
Or else the missus will teach you a lesson".
-Tom Tzu on the challenges of morning wood
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
A man does not appreciate a potato for the tiny sprout that escapes to the surface but for the part that insisted on staying buried in shit.
|
Proverb from Tom Tzu (Sun Tzu´s lesser known brother):
"Be flexible and lean ahead
Give way to the beast from bed
For to touch the seat in the early hour
Is really cold and will leave you sour
Keep it down throughout the session
Or else the missus will teach you a lesson".
-Tom Tzu on the challenges of morning wood
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
Better late than pregnant.
Birds of the same feather, make a good feather duster.
The early bird cock-a-doodle-doos.
Cleanliness is next to fatigue.
If ain't broke, ain't nobody got time fo dat.
Don't bite the hand that's feeding the animals.
You can't judge a book without a jury.
Two heads are scary.
Do unto others as you would chill out the weekend.
Honesty is such a lonely word.
|
Proverb from Tom Tzu (Sun Tzu´s lesser known brother):
"Be flexible and lean ahead
Give way to the beast from bed
For to touch the seat in the early hour
Is really cold and will leave you sour
Keep it down throughout the session
Or else the missus will teach you a lesson".
-Tom Tzu on the challenges of morning wood
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
when life gives you lemons; make lemonade. However you will still need to provide the water, pitcher, sugar and cups for yourself. it would also be prudent to go off a recipe and check ingredients for quality
|
Proverb from Tom Tzu (Sun Tzu´s lesser known brother):
"Be flexible and lean ahead
Give way to the beast from bed
For to touch the seat in the early hour
Is really cold and will leave you sour
Keep it down throughout the session
Or else the missus will teach you a lesson".
-Tom Tzu on the challenges of morning wood
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
He who walks in big shoes will find his feet blistered and his shoes will probably fall off, and then he will realize how stupid it was to buy such big shoes, and stop by a Payless after work to buy a new pair only to find that this pair is too small, and he will cry himself to sleep because his wife left him.
|
Proverb from Tom Tzu (Sun Tzu´s lesser known brother):
"Be flexible and lean ahead
Give way to the beast from bed
For to touch the seat in the early hour
Is really cold and will leave you sour
Keep it down throughout the session
Or else the missus will teach you a lesson".
-Tom Tzu on the challenges of morning wood
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
Behind the darkest cloud, there fly the largest geese.
|
Proverb from Tom Tzu (Sun Tzu´s lesser known brother):
"Be flexible and lean ahead
Give way to the beast from bed
For to touch the seat in the early hour
Is really cold and will leave you sour
Keep it down throughout the session
Or else the missus will teach you a lesson".
-Tom Tzu on the challenges of morning wood
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
I say unto thee, park not in thy neighbor's assigned parking space, lest thee be towed away and thy weekend filled with whining calls to thine parents as thou beggest for money to pay the impound fee.
|
Proverb from Tom Tzu (Sun Tzu´s lesser known brother):
"Be flexible and lean ahead
Give way to the beast from bed
For to touch the seat in the early hour
Is really cold and will leave you sour
Keep it down throughout the session
Or else the missus will teach you a lesson".
-Tom Tzu on the challenges of morning wood
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
The toad can tell the difference between a pencil and a picture frame, but the toad has no use for such things.
|
Proverb from Tom Tzu (Sun Tzu´s lesser known brother):
"Be flexible and lean ahead
Give way to the beast from bed
For to touch the seat in the early hour
Is really cold and will leave you sour
Keep it down throughout the session
Or else the missus will teach you a lesson".
-Tom Tzu on the challenges of morning wood
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
A fox can not sneak into Belgium across the telegraph wires.
(I had a dream where mythbusters proved this wrong, once)
|
Proverb from Tom Tzu (Sun Tzu´s lesser known brother):
"Be flexible and lean ahead
Give way to the beast from bed
For to touch the seat in the early hour
Is really cold and will leave you sour
Keep it down throughout the session
Or else the missus will teach you a lesson".
-Tom Tzu on the challenges of morning wood
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
Be as the man who drinks water from time to time and you will never be thirsty.
|
Proverb from Tom Tzu (Sun Tzu´s lesser known brother):
"Be flexible and lean ahead
Give way to the beast from bed
For to touch the seat in the early hour
Is really cold and will leave you sour
Keep it down throughout the session
Or else the missus will teach you a lesson".
-Tom Tzu on the challenges of morning wood
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
I used to visit my homeless uncle everyday in his cave after school. One day he ate my friend tommy... It wasn't until later I discovered my uncle was a bear.
Not mine, but seemed relevant.
|
If it has tits or tires and it's name be Beaula, it shall bring trouble to your house so it would probably be best to leave it where it is unless you are one who enjoys drama and screeching voices. If that be the case, go ahead, but only on Thursdays.
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
A man does not appreciate a potato for the tiny sprout that escapes to the surface but for the part that insisted on staying buried in shit.
|
If it has tits or tires and it's name be Beaula, it shall bring trouble to your house so it would probably be best to leave it where it is unless you are one who enjoys drama and screeching voices. If that be the case, go ahead, but only on Thursdays.
|
|
[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
|
Better late than pregnant.
Birds of the same feather, make a good feather duster.
The early bird cock-a-doodle-doos.
Cleanliness is next to fatigue.
If ain't broke, ain't nobody got time fo dat.
Don't bite the hand that's feeding the animals.
You can't judge a book without a jury.
Two heads are scary.
Do unto others as you would chill out the weekend.
Honesty is such a lonely word.
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If it has tits or tires and it's name be Beaula, it shall bring trouble to your house so it would probably be best to leave it where it is unless you are one who enjoys drama and screeching voices. If that be the case, go ahead, but only on Thursdays.
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[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
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A man does not appreciate a potato for the tiny sprout that escapes to the surface but for the part that insisted on staying buried in shit.
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Everything happens for a reason.
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[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
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Better late than pregnant.
Birds of the same feather, make a good feather duster.
The early bird cock-a-doodle-doos.
Cleanliness is next to fatigue.
If ain't broke, ain't nobody got time fo dat.
Don't bite the hand that's feeding the animals.
You can't judge a book without a jury.
Two heads are scary.
Do unto others as you would chill out the weekend.
Honesty is such a lonely word.
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Everything happens for a reason.
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[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
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Behind the darkest cloud, there fly the largest geese.
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When dispatching troops to war
Do not block the fucking door
Not with chairs or flares or floats
Clear a path to their remotes
Not with tanks or infantry
Just clear out and let them be
Not with armoured craft or ships
Give them all potato chips
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[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
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I say unto thee, park not in thy neighbor's assigned parking space, lest thee be towed away and thy weekend filled with whining calls to thine parents as thou beggest for money to pay the impound fee.
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When dispatching troops to war
Do not block the fucking door
Not with chairs or flares or floats
Clear a path to their remotes
Not with tanks or infantry
Just clear out and let them be
Not with armoured craft or ships
Give them all potato chips
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[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
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The toad can tell the difference between a pencil and a picture frame, but the toad has no use for such things.
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When dispatching troops to war
Do not block the fucking door
Not with chairs or flares or floats
Clear a path to their remotes
Not with tanks or infantry
Just clear out and let them be
Not with armoured craft or ships
Give them all potato chips
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[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
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A fox can not sneak into Belgium across the telegraph wires.
(I had a dream where mythbusters proved this wrong, once)
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When dispatching troops to war
Do not block the fucking door
Not with chairs or flares or floats
Clear a path to their remotes
Not with tanks or infantry
Just clear out and let them be
Not with armoured craft or ships
Give them all potato chips
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[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
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Be as the man who drinks water from time to time and you will never be thirsty.
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When dispatching troops to war
Do not block the fucking door
Not with chairs or flares or floats
Clear a path to their remotes
Not with tanks or infantry
Just clear out and let them be
Not with armoured craft or ships
Give them all potato chips
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[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
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Behind the darkest cloud, there fly the largest geese.
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when life gives you lemons; make lemonade. However you will still need to provide the water, pitcher, sugar and cups for yourself. it would also be prudent to go off a recipe and check ingredients for quality
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[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
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I say unto thee, park not in thy neighbor's assigned parking space, lest thee be towed away and thy weekend filled with whining calls to thine parents as thou beggest for money to pay the impound fee.
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when life gives you lemons; make lemonade. However you will still need to provide the water, pitcher, sugar and cups for yourself. it would also be prudent to go off a recipe and check ingredients for quality
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[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
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Behind the darkest cloud, there fly the largest geese.
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He who walks in big shoes will find his feet blistered and his shoes will probably fall off, and then he will realize how stupid it was to buy such big shoes, and stop by a Payless after work to buy a new pair only to find that this pair is too small, and he will cry himself to sleep because his wife left him.
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[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
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I say unto thee, park not in thy neighbor's assigned parking space, lest thee be towed away and thy weekend filled with whining calls to thine parents as thou beggest for money to pay the impound fee.
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He who walks in big shoes will find his feet blistered and his shoes will probably fall off, and then he will realize how stupid it was to buy such big shoes, and stop by a Payless after work to buy a new pair only to find that this pair is too small, and he will cry himself to sleep because his wife left him.
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[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
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I say unto thee, park not in thy neighbor's assigned parking space, lest thee be towed away and thy weekend filled with whining calls to thine parents as thou beggest for money to pay the impound fee.
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Behind the darkest cloud, there fly the largest geese.
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[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
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Be as the man who drinks water from time to time and you will never be thirsty.
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Heed my words and listen hear!
When you're itching in your ear,
Grab a Q-tip from the pack,
Check around you: front and back.
One more thing I must implore:
step away from any door.
If your elbow takes a smack,
While knuckle-deep in ear wax.
You will surely feel much pain
From the Q-tip in your brain.
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[WP] Write an overly specific, useless proverb
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Be as the man who drinks water from time to time and you will never be thirsty.
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The toad can tell the difference between a pencil and a picture frame, but the toad has no use for such things.
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[WP] Make up an absurd conspiracy theory. Try to convince me of it
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There is no such place as Tibet. It was invented by the CIA in the 1960's as a counter-argument to the Mao-influenced communism that was all the rage at the time. If China is so great, then why are the Tibetans so horribly oppressed, right? A leaked document from the time instructs propagande managers to describe Tibet as "basically the Shire, but smellier and with more mountains".
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Trees aren't a natural formation, at least not the pine trees, the government put them there. They were created in a lab and are stuck in the ground all Over the earth to act as sound mufflers. The way padding in a sound booth softens the sound, they work the same wAy. The government put them there because they need the sounds from the air planes and chemical warfare to be muffled into a low wosh sound. That way, so when planes fly over your house, you think the sound coming from them seems soft and normal and ok. If you could really hear how loud they are, you would be terrified and dealing with PTSD like symptoms regularly. But the government needs the public to be calm and complacent to planes flying over head so that they can release mind control an population control chemicals into the air and things like that. Haven't you always wondered why pine trees don't die in the winter?? Wake up!
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[WP] A dates invites you to dinner at his/her house. Midway through your dinner, you find out the food has been drugged.
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"I feel a little funny."
"Oh yeah? Funny?"
She's smiling mischievously, and by now I have my suspicions. I try to play it off, make it into a joke. "Did you spike the salad? I mean, it was good, but maybe I wouldn't have taken that extra helping, gotta drive later..." My voice trails off halfway through what wasn't shaping up to be that good a joke, but she's smiling wider, looks like she's about to laugh.
"You barely touched the salad, silly! It was mixed in with the potatoes. You always were a sucker for potatoes."
I tip her a smile in return as the wall takes on a rainbow hue, "Aww, you shouldn't have, but thanks babe! I didn't know you knew where to get that much liquid LSD!"
She only answers with a laugh, and I can tell she's started to trip balls as well. It is going to be a good night.
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Her broad smile, petite frame, and neat mid-length hairstyle confirmed that her profile had been accurate in terms of her appearance at least. I gave her a weak smile and my meager bouquet of tulips. She beamed. Her coral lipstick suited her.
"Come on in!" said Lily brightly as she accepted the flowers and led me into the doorway. Amazed how quickly her warm demeanor and bright decor soothed me, I obediently followed her into her home. "I'm so glad you could make it! Typically guys want to meet somewhere public for the first date, not that I blame them, but as a chef I hate leaving a first meal up to someone else, you know?"
I couldn't help but notice the gentle lilt of her words. "Do you by any chance have an accent, or...?"
"Oh, yes," she answered shyly. "I spent most of my childhood in France. Cooking kind of runs in my family."
"It sounds beautiful," I offered, causing her smile to deepen and a charming blush to color her cheeks. She crossed the room to the kitchen, returning with a pair of half-full wineglasses. I accepted mine with a "thank you" and watched her walk into the kitchen to presumably check on dinner. This was great. Fantastic. I couldn't believe my luck, as this was the first date I'd set up since my ex some six months ago. Lily had appeared sweet in our text messages, but in real life she looked like she'd walked straight out of a movie. Charming, sweet, accomplished career woman, and she looked like a cross between Rachel McAdams and Anne Hathaway. The sweet red wine lulled me into a state of drowsy contentment as I peered at the photographs hanging on her wall.
"Alright," said Lily as she whisked into the room, "The quail is resting, so we'll start off with the tomato bisque, then by then the roast should be perfect so we'll have that and the rosemary potatoes and green beans with a lemon dressing, then for dessert I made pavlova with raspberries. You ever had pavlova?"
"I've never heard of pavlova."
"That's a shame, it's fabulous," she said, taking my hand and leading me to the dining room. Her interior design was both cheerful and classic, her use of color plentiful without seeming garish. I gaped at the lemon yellow walls and floral tablecloth and distressed wooden dining set.
"You have good taste," I said as I tucked in her chair for her and sat across the table. The bisque smelled heavenly, I thought to myself as I gingerly took a sip.
Lily smiled. "Thanks. Are you interested in interior design, Charles?"
I laughed. "Not quite, though as an architect I guess it doesn't fall too far outside my line of work. Your home is just so warm and colorful, it's actually somewhat inspiring. I'm actually a bit of an amateur photographer, I'd love to take some photos of your house and post them to my blog sometime, if that'd be alright with you."
"Ooh, I didn't know you had a blog, I'd love to take a look at it sometime," she said excitedly. "Oh, hang on, let me grab the roast, I'll be right back!" I finished up my bisque, thrilled at the possibility of another date, and grinned at the elegantly-arranged plates of roast quail and vegetables. She scurried back into the kitchen and returned with a cake stand, atop which sat a delicate confection of meringue topped with whipped cream and raspberries and garnished with mint.
"This is all so sophisticated," I confessed as I hastily carved and served a portion of the main course onto my plate. Her soft brown eyes met mine as I took a bite of poultry. She bit her lip.
Lily continued to watch me eat, smiling dreamily. "I'm so glad you're enjoying it. You came off as having a delicate palate when we chatted, so I wanted to make you something special." She sipped her wine. "That, and I wanted a chance to make quail."
The quail was indeed delicious, and I found I'd eaten most of it without noticing. I took a bite of potato, staring off into space while I mulled over my dinner. The vintage standing lamp in the corner of the room gave off a soft white hue, so bright it blurred my vision. I blinked a few times, trying to clear it. Perhaps I should've paced myself better with the wine. My face was growing unnaturally warm. "Excuse me," I murmured, "But where's the restroom? The wine..."
My date giggled. "Down the hall first door on the left." I stood wordlessly, feeling my neck break out in a cold sweat, only to crumple to my knees. I stared frantically up at Lily, trying to speak but feeling as though my mouth were stuffed with paste. She picked up her dessert fork and dug straight into the pavlova, smiling sweetly and taking her bite. My vision continued to blur as I gurgled helplessly from the floor. She daintily rubbed some excess cream from the corner of her mouth and licked it off her finger. "Something wrong, Charles?"
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[WP] A dates invites you to dinner at his/her house. Midway through your dinner, you find out the food has been drugged.
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"I feel a little funny."
"Oh yeah? Funny?"
She's smiling mischievously, and by now I have my suspicions. I try to play it off, make it into a joke. "Did you spike the salad? I mean, it was good, but maybe I wouldn't have taken that extra helping, gotta drive later..." My voice trails off halfway through what wasn't shaping up to be that good a joke, but she's smiling wider, looks like she's about to laugh.
"You barely touched the salad, silly! It was mixed in with the potatoes. You always were a sucker for potatoes."
I tip her a smile in return as the wall takes on a rainbow hue, "Aww, you shouldn't have, but thanks babe! I didn't know you knew where to get that much liquid LSD!"
She only answers with a laugh, and I can tell she's started to trip balls as well. It is going to be a good night.
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As I walk up to Carol's door, I try to calm my nerves. We've gone out on a few dates, so I shouldn't be nervous. But this time, this time she actually invited me for dinner at her place. "132..." I mumble looking reading off the numbers. My breath gets shorter and my palms get sweatier when I recognize the number she told me. I start to second guess what I'm wearing, "Is the suit too much? Maybe I should have gone more casual. Oh crap! I forgot flowers." Knocking on the door I continue my streak of insecurity. "What if it's the wrong number? Maybe she meant 7:00 instead of 6:00." Distracted by my own thoughts, I jumped when the door opened. I looked at Carol who was wearing a long red dress. Her long blazing red hair fell over her shoulder to one side, covering one eye. "Oh great! You're here! Perfect timing!" She said giving me a hug, which instantly relieved my nerves. Pulling back from the hug and fixing her hair she said "Dinner has just finished. Come on in and we can eat!" she turned around and walked toward her counter. I walked in after her. "Do you need any help with anything?" I asked. "Nope, nothing at all. Just have a seat." I took my seat and waited for her to come with the food. She brought over the food and set it down on the table in front of me. "I'm not the best at cooking, but I tried really hard on it. It's my first time making chicken." She said smiling. I looked at the odd dish in front of me. Oh chicken. Thats what it's supposed to be. "We'll don't be shy, eat up!" Carol stabbed the glob of meat with a fork and moved it over to my plate. I noticed she didn't take any for herself. Probably just waiting to see my reaction to her cooking. I remembered what my dad always told me, "If a woman cooks like shit, eat it anyway and pretend it's good. You can throw up later." I took a few bites and started chewing as she examined me with a hopeful expression. But something didn't feel right. It wasn't the taste, it hardly had a taste. In fact, it felt more like I was taking a trip to the dentist. My mouth began to feel numb and my vision went blurry. Blacking out, the last thing I saw was her sharp green eyes and crooked smile.
---
I awoke sometime later strapped to a bed in a daze. I tried looking around, but my vision was still blurry and the room was dark. My mouth had not quite gotten over the numbness which always annoyed me when I had gone to the dentist. "Heeeeyyyyyyy Mitchell.... Wakey wakey! The drugs should be wearing off soon." A bright light came from the opposite side of the room I was now in. I immediately recognized the firey hair. The first thought that came to mind was that she stole my kidney. She apparently saw right through me. "Don't you worry Mitchy... I didn't take anything of yours. Because what's yours is now ours!" Carol's bubbly attitude creeped me out more than her words. "Whaddidyudoooo...." I dribbled, still getting over the fact that I could barely move my mouth. "I can't hear you my truest love in the world! Say it again so I can hear your beautiful voice." She walked right up to me with her hands holding something behind her back. "Whadddidyoo dotome." I dribbled again. "What did I do? Well silly goose, I'm sure you know that I drugged you! Anybody could tell that! Especially the one being drugged!" I noticed a slight chuckle in her voice. At this point my vision had become normal so I could see the room I was in. "What....the.....fuck...." I mumbled seeing her room finally. There were pictures of me everywhere, a blowup doll dressed to look like me with my face imprinted on it. A fucking quilt with my face on it. Most of the pictures in the room didn't have me looking at the camera. One of the ones on a night stand next to me looked like it was taken right outside the window of my apartment. MY APARTMENT! I shot a look back at Carol, "What are you going to do to me!?" "Well I was thinking, first we can go to the park, then we can go to the movies, then maybe dinner and then another movie!" Carol responded. I looked at another picture out of fear. It was one of the few she was in. She was taking a selfie at the park with me, but I don't remember going to the park with her. Oh. My. God. It was the doll! "You brought a blowup doll that looks like me to the park! What's wrong with you!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. She suddenly looked sad and started moving her hands from behind her back. "I love your voice, but I can't let you be loud or else people might hear too much." "What do you mean." "I mean," She paused, revealing a knife. "I'm going to have to devoice you. It's okay though!" She began to get more cheerful as she leaned toward me. "I know what I'm doing!"
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[WP] You're at a bar, and start a conversation with the person next to you. You learn he hunts mythic creatures, and you are next on his list.
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It was Friday, the hands of the clock slowly ambling towards midnight, and I was hunched over the bar as usual. My fingers drew circles in the puddled beer, spilled by some rowdy teenagers earlier in the evening, maybe two or three hours ago. Nodding to the bartender, I signaled for another drink, a simple vodka martini, extra dry.
As the cold liquid sluiced down my throat, I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder. "Excuse me, but is there anyone sitting here?" A thin bespectacled man in a cheap suit asked nervously, gesturing to the open stool beside me. I shook my head and turned back to my drink, hoping this would be the one that brought sweet sleep to my eyes.
Before I could drink again, he asked, "What brings you here to this dive? A beautiful girl like you belongs in a cocktail bar or a evening party." I turned my eyes to the stranger again and shrugged. "Quieter here," I replied, my words soft but tired. "And you?"
"Believe it or not," he chuckled, wiping his sweaty forehead with his sleeve, "I'm supposed to meet someone here."
"A date?" The incredulousness in my voice must have been too obvious as he wrinkled his nose and sat up straighter.
"No, nothing of the sort. In fact, it's more of the opposite of a date. An end date, so to speak." A small tilt of his head downwards led my eyes to the inside of his jacket, where a gleaming metal spike lay concealed.
I snorted, brushing my long sandy hair out of my eyes before rolling them. "Oh, a vampire hunter. Costume Nights are Thursdays, pal. Today's nothing special."
"But you don't understand," he interjected, placing his damp hand on mine. I immediately pulled away, casually wiping my hand off on a napkin. "Not just vampires. Any creature, fair or foul, that should not exist. The vampire, the werewolf, the ghost, the ghoul, the zombie..." His eyes shown with barely concealed glee as he gripped the silver weapon, still tucked tightly in his belt. "They call me... The Slayer."
"Oh, Mr. Slayer, how very... interesting." I began to turn away, my mouth drier than the Sahara as I reached for my drink. "And are you searching for the Loch Ness Monster here? Perhaps I could direct you to the nearest lake."
"No, no," he smiled and reached for my hand again. "You'd be surprised where we find them. Today's creature is a lesser known fable, though some say that it is far more powerful than any common monster of the night." He shoved his glasses up as he reached into his pocket, pulling out an aged diary, and opened it.
The crumbled yellow pages showed a humanoid creature looming over a sleeping child, its hands dripping with dust. A neat cursive scrawl beneath the illustration read 'The Sandman - Lord of Dreams' as well as a long list of notes describing its ability to shapeshift and cause confusion and amnesia in his targets.
I couldn't help myself. I laughed right in his face. "The Sandman? Really? Of all the possible fairy tale creatures you choose to hunt, you choose the one that can make you forget that you're chasing him? How do you know that you haven't found him already - and he's just shaken you off?"
"W-Well," the man stammered, "I don't think I've forgotten anything. The mermaids weren't a problem, neither were the centaurs, though I had some trouble with the pixies." I shook my head and leaned in towards him.
"I'll let you in on a little secret, Mr. Slayer. You've been here before. How's the daughter, by the way? She's really grown up to be a beautiful girl. We've had this little conversation every single time you've shown up. Do you really want to do this again?" My teeth gleamed as I rubbed my fingers in his face, faint trickles of golden sand swirling around my fingertips.
His brow furrowed. "My daughter? You... you know about her? What else do you know? How long has this been going-" A thud. He hit the ground, snoring surprisingly loudly for a man his size. I took his diary, tearing out the page with his precious collected information on it and pocketing it.
"Sweet dreams, Mr. Slayer. I believe the score is one hundred and thirty two to zero, my favor." A snap of my fingers and everyone in the room suddenly struggled to recall the events of the past thirty minutes. Another snap and I dissolved into a cloud of sand.
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Timothy Sellers woke up at 7 AM the next morning, in his own bed. He sat up, stretched, and yawned deeply. That was some of the best sleep he had ever had. Padding downstairs to the kitchen, he kissed his wife on the cheek. "Morning, Morpheia. What's for breakfast?"
AN: Wow, my first post here on WP. I hope I did okay. ;__; Criticism and comments always welcome.
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My new friend sipped his whisky while I was playing with my glass. What I wanted to do was down it and ask the bartender for another one.
"Pegasus, you say."
And he seemed so nice and amiable.
He nodded.
"But isn't that a horse," I asked gesturing to myself. I was hoping he'd see I was no horse and leave me alone.
"A *magic* horse," he replied, as if that explained anything.
We were the only ones in the bar, besides the bartender, who was a friend of mine. He knew me well.
"Ganymede," I said, "another whisky for the gentleman."
The poor man was no mere mortal, but as I spread my wings and changed into my true form he stood no chance.
After I finished him, I did the same both with my drink and his.
"How do you think he found out about you," asked Ganymede as he was preparing to clean the mess.
I threw him a look.
"Way to ask that before I killed him, Gan."
Used to be, every 200 years or so, some enterprising mortal finds one of us, and then dies in mysterious circumstances. It became easier now, for them to find us, and harder for us to cover up our traces.
------
-208
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[WP] You are a complete dumbass in the zombie apocalypse. You survive any situation on sheer dumb luck, and end up getting everybody else killed in the process.
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I hum merrily as I stroll about the shelter with the first aid kit. Because the shelter was an old church, I liked to call it the Chelter. I was beginning to like this new survival group; they seemed more friendly and fun than the last group. There were three girls in the group: Linda, Lizzie, and me. There were four boys in the group: Tom, Dalton, Aaron, and Payton. I always mix up Dalton and Payton although I don’t know why; Payton is really tall with blonde hair and Dalton is short and kind of stocky with black hair.
I continue to hum my melody; I know that we’re supposed to be quiet but it made me feel safer and more at home. I hope no one notices that I left; I liked them all but I preferred to be a lone wolf sometimes. I think I hear someone calling for me so I quicker walk through the center aisle of the Chelter and turn on the lights. It was just too eerie to be wandering through a dark church; there might be ghosts around. I hear the wind blowing outside and think of the zombies. I know that Linda says that they’re completely brain dead but I still hope that they’re not cold. I wander up the ladder to the old church bell with a smile. This was my favorite secret hobby, I ring the bell four times pretending I’m Quasimodo; when everyday was so sad, I felt that it was important to have fun. I decide to leave the first aid kit near the bell for safe keeping; if a zombie got his hands on it and started to heal his wounds, he would be unstoppable.
I head back to the group room and take a quick headcount: 5 people including myself. I count again worriedly and get 6.
I walk up to Tom, “What happened?” I ask as he buries his face in his hands.
He looks at me sadly, “Lizzie got bitten outside and we couldn’t find the first aid kit in time. We had to lock her out.”
I scream, “But it’s so cold! She’ll freeze!”
He looks up at me and spouts back, “She’s already brain dead! She’s bitten!”
I begin to cry and grab her sweater that is still in the corner. Lizzie was such a sweet girl; she was the best chef out of any of us and made Campbell’s chicken noodle soup into a five star dining experience. In a few minutes, Linda runs in frantically.
“The zombies are surrounding the outside! They know we’re here!” she screeches.
“How could they know?” I ask worriedly.
We hear a horrific banging at the door and I wonder if it’s Lizzie; maybe she survived! I run to the door and try to unhinge the lock and Aaron tackles me to the ground. I smile when I see Lizzie’s shining face at the door and I scream when I see a piece of her flesh fall to the floor. Lizzie and a few other zombies lunge at us. I smack at the zombies and accidently kick Aaron before escaping. I run into the church and deliberate going back to help when I hear screams.
I hear Tom shout, “Leave me alone!”
I smile at Tom’s message; it was so brave that he gave me permission to leave and protect myself. I begin to run and wait at the altar for my Cheltermates. After a few minutes, Dalton, Payton, Linda and Aaron come in and I offer them some wine that I found.
“The zombies are still here!” Dalton shouts pulling me towards the tower. Linda who is leading the group now turns around abruptly.
“We need the emergency kit! Where is it?!?!” she screams.
I think and reply, “I think I hid it under a pew in the Chelter room.”
She runs back into the Chelter room frantically and we leave her behind. As I go up the ladder, I remember that I hid it in the bell tower and scream for Linda but the zombies are growling too loud and drown my call out.
I look at Payton and Dalton and head up the ladder to the bell tower. As I climb, Dalton screams for help.
“I can’t reach the ladder! Help me, they’re coming!” He shouts.
I begin to descend the ladder again and then I see a zombie running towards him.
“Try your tiptoes Dalton! He’s coming!” I scream rushing up the ladder.
I head up quickly and take a deep breath before stepping into the tower. It was a miracle that zombies couldn’t climb! I step onto the tower and Payton helps me up.
“Here, I’ll help you step onto the roof and we’ll climb down onto the area with the least zombies!” he says authoritatively.
I smile and nod although I don’t appreciate his tone. I wasn’t dumb and didn’t need him to make plans for us. He helps me up onto the roof and grab his hands so he could climb up too. He sighs in indignant relief when he stands up on the roof next to me.
“Huh, you helped me up, I guess you’re not such an idiot,” he says grabbing onto my hands to balance.
His words echo in my head and I feel a mixture of anger and sadness welling up.
I reply, “I never was. But you are,”
He looks at me perplexed, “Excuse me?”
I look at his hands and shove him with all my might. I smile remembering the betrayal of Mufasa; he had the exact same look on his face. I chuckle as I climb down off the church into a zombieless area. I run to the first boarded up house I see and pound on the door frantically.
“I’m a human! I’m not sick! Help me!” I shout.
I see a few eyes peer out at me and then a young brunette girl answers the door and hugs me.
“I’m Betty, We’ll protect you!” she says cheerfully.
I smile and walk past her into the big house looking at my new group of friends. They all look tired but they smile at me. I introduce myself and offer to organize the first aid kit. Betty happily obliges and I hum as I work; maybe they’ll survive a little longer.
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Kevin was a man who wasn't exactly a leader, but not a coward. Rather, he had a kind of "hold my beer" type of courage, and in the zombie apocalypse, that is a dangerous type of courage to have indeed.
"Damn it Kevin, you don't need a piggy bank. What are you, Five?" Sawyer Spouted at Kevin. John and Mark, the other Two in the group, sighed and looked on at Kevin.
"No...It's a storage container. Where else am I gonna put my spare change?"
The other Three just stared at Kevin in an awkward silence. Sawyer spoke up.
"Kevin...Just...Fine."
Sawyer turned to the shelves behind him and scoured them for anything worth keeping. The group found themselves looting a hardware store for weapons and things to fortify their community to the North.
Jack leaned over to search some of the lower shelves in the back of the store. He shifted through junk not worth keeping and found himself holding a coil of wire. He looked the package over, and decided to keep it. It might come in handy for something.
John angled a flashlight toward the corners of the shop and searched them. He disturbed dust that hadn't moved for a long, long time. His eyes passed over cracked glass and empty shelves. Finally, he turned around to look at the entrance of the shop and found Kevin holding an air horn.
"Kevin, no. Put it down." John had raised his hands and lowered them slightly, signaling for Kevin to drop it. Jack and Sawyer had turned around as well and watched Kevin.
"But, this air horn reminds me of something."
"Kevin, it doesn't matter. Air horns are loud. You do know that zombies are attracted to noise, right?"
John watched Kevin's mind process the question.
"They are?"
John took a deep breath and started to count to Ten. Sawyer and Jack had nothing to say.
"Just...put it down Kevin." John's patience was running out.
"Fine. I will."
Kevin turned to some shelves behind him and slid the air horn into it's place.
"But I've never heard an air horn in real life. Only on TV and stuff."
John turned back around.
"Kevin, trust me. Don't."
Kevin kept direct eye contact with John as Kevin's fat hands grasped the air horn and raised it into the air. Sawyer and Mark watched with their jaws hanging open, powerless to stop the raw power of idiocy.
Kevin set off the horn, and as quickly as it had wailed it's horrid air horn noise, it had stopped. Kevin shouted in surprise and let go of the metal cylinder. It hit the floor and everyone watched Kevin, whose eyes were now wide.
Minutes had passed as Kevin was trying to cook up an excuse. A decaying hand slammed into the glass door of the shop, then another, and another, and another. Zombies shambled to the door, the dinner bell having been rung. Soon, the sound of rotting flesh colliding into glass was the only sound that could be heard.
The group readied their guns and took aim. As the zombies pushed through their glass barricade, the noises of angry men cursing their fellow comrade for his sheer stupidity joined the noises of the undead as the horde shambled to the nearest man, Sawyer, whose last words cursed Kevin.
Kevin dropped his gun as cowardice overtook him, and he ran to the back room and locked himself inside. He listened to the sound of gunshots and the sounds of screaming. When the screaming died out, Kevin could only hear the undead moaning as they feasted.
Kevin waited in the back storage room until he could wait no more, when the moaning had subsided and the last zombie shambled outside the shop.
Kevin opened the door slowly, poking his head out to make sure it was all clear. He passed the remains of John, Mark, and Sawyer as he picked up his air horn and stuffed it into a plastic bag. As Kevin left, he picked up Sawyer's duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder.
Kevin begun his journey back home.
|
|
[WP] After an eternity of planning, all the souls in Hell overthrow the devil and and govern themselves.
|
"You fools!" Yelled the devil chained up to the side of the mountain in hell, "you'll only destroy life by getting out"
The people didn't listen. They have been tormented for eternities and now was their chance to get out. They knew if they persisted they would be alive again. Could see those they left behind, or discover what the world has become after their passing. Death trully was only the beginning, because the everlasting torment of hell made life seem like a blink of a moment. A life that they failed at, ending up in the bowels of hell with every other failure.
Here was a chance for some to get out, live, and fix those mistakes. For others, it was a chance to pillage once more.
The stories were all true. They were able to get out. At least those with some form of bodies they have left behind. What they didn't realize was that once they did, all they felt was an unstoppable and persisting hunger. A hunger for living flesh.
They rose in thousands. The devil was right. Life was getting destroyed and he failed at protecting it.
|
"Morning, Bob. I'll have a-"
"Sir, I need to see your food-ordering permit before you place an order."
"Oh, yes, here it is."
Ted grew nervous as Bob, sentenced to Hell for carrying out lawsuits against the poorest people for the dumbest reasons, examines his permit.
"I'm sorry, sir, but this expired two seconds ago."
Ted groaned. He walked out the door, and biked towards the bureaucracy tower in the center of Hell. Fortunately, he only had to show his permits two hundred times.
The Devil, from his 'prison'- the most comfortable room in Hell- laughed as he watched the humans torment themselves.
|
|
[WP] World War 3 has just started. Who is at war and why?
|
America, falling, failing, and unable to let got it's remaining power starts a foolish war in the Middle East. The stage, if you can image this dear listeners, is set with European powers becoming insular, no longer following their darling child into battle. Israel and Saudi Arabia is strange bed fellows but both ally themselves with the once great Goliath. In the early days, around 2023, many smaller Islamic states played the part of David, their populace being pounded into dust by drone strikes and sea-to-ground ballistic missiles. We still, till this day, have stories and records of the nasty shit that happened in the desert 40 years after the fact.
Cycles my friend, this shit happens in cycle I'll tell ya.
The ground offensives start, Israel fueled with raging nationalism and American money, once again wipes the floor with all comers. The Gaza Strip is broken down to rubble, stories coming back to us at home of children and families diving into the Mediterranean. Sick fucking shit to be sure. West Bank...well I'm sure every one remembers what happened in the West Bank and I ain't drunk enough to get into it. Egypt opens up it's borders to refugees, this at the time was a simply humanitarian gesture but in hindsight it was the opening salvo in Egypt part in the war.
Now all this happened a good year and a half before what many scholars the true beginning of world war three but for my money this action and the continued support of USA to Israel was what really started it. Anyways back to the action. An mass assassination of high ranking Saudi members with all clues pointing to Iran, a bigger war than the normal conflicts that plagued the area erupts, mass Arab invasion of Iran, with surprisingly Israeli air support. This of course is all tied back to the USA, some we only learn later after declassified documents are unearthed in the ruins of the Pentagon. They set-up the assassinations, in a attempt to destabilize the area even more so they could come in, like the great white savior of old, sort it out, increase their image in the world and make some dough doing it. It was called Operation: Staples. It didn't work, even with American presences in the area (Iraq and Syrian at this point little more than American Colonies). For six months, this is still a normal, non-world war, Iran is taking a beating but are holding on. The Americans only offering auxiliary support.
Then the worst terrorist action in recorded history happened in the heart Jerusalem, the heart of the West Bank massacres, one of the largest, non-nuclear explosion in the books kills tens of thousands, maims more. A group from Egypt takes credit and then, perhaps foolishly, the Egypt government *backs* this group. Now America, no longer having the option to play it safe, declare war on both Iran and Egypt. This was the moment everything went to shit people. This moment.
During the years prior many, many indigenous riots were happening in the Americas, from Argentina to Canada. American fearing domestic attack while in the desert again, starts enforcing policies similar to those of Israel in the early 2000's on reserves. This insights more riots in neighboring countries. Fools the lot of them. Mexico and Peru declare war on the USA. Can you fucking imagine?
But that's not all folks, Canadian citizens during the years between the war in the desert and the war in the south started another underground railroad for people of native descent. Eventually these citizens are caught, and the USA now in full blown empire mode, demands a payments of Canada, it's citizens or war. Canada chooses war. This was fucking madness. The world in a few short years went from relatively peaceful to full on hellhole. Now you might be saying this isn't a world war, not yet. And I'd agree. But on the other side of the world another conflict was brewing. One between China, Korea, and Japan. This plays out how one would suspect a war would, land claims, old grudges, and many resources at hand. The first days of battle on the sea were bloody, so much so that Japan seeks America aid, which they grant. China, declares war on America. Eventually in a show of economic solidarity so does Brazil, India, Russia, and South Africa. America starts buying allies, allies in Southeast Asia, allies and Central Africa, allies in Central Asia, and eventually, perhaps fittingly, the European Union. The rest of it, as they say, is history. Canada's March, the African Theater, the Iranian genocide, and the many, many times we came close to nuclear war. Eventually the war end how it started: with America, but instead of reaching out, it was tearing itself apart. Civil War. That set the social, political, economical, and cultural climates for years. No more Hollywood blockbusters. No more African-American hip-hop. No more world class athletes dominating world competition. It was like watching a man shoot himself in the head in slow motion.
It was brutal.
And that seems to be all I have time for this opening of my World War 3: the war America fought, started, ended, won, and lost all at once series. Next time we'll be looking at the key part the American Theater played in the larger context of the war. Thanks, and this has been, as always, Historian Mike on the mic. Sleep easy and learn heavy.
|
Listening to a CBC radio podcast as I stand in the July sun washing lettuce for the farmer's market I hear Jack exit his house. The screen door which he has always caught with his foot to avoid slamming, crashes into the doorframe with a loud clap of aluminum on old pine. The sound catches me unaware and I jump at the sudden intrusion into the podcast about an East Indian poet. Turning I see Jack's casual air and easy smile have been replaced by a slight slumping of his shoulders and a tense tightening around his mouth and eyes.
"Hey jack, I'm almost done the Grand Rapids," I say as I lift a headphone off my right ear. "Should I take the mescaline mix next? Or Swiss Charred?"
Jack stares blankly out past my left shoulder to the field of vegetables, sectioned like street blocks, with different variations of certain squash or bean broken with stripped willow branch stakes. At first I think he is contemplating my question, but then I notice he is not focused on anything, staring above the field to the sky beyond the tree belt which protects his crop from erosion.
"What is it?" I ask, turning to search for what has stricken Jack silent. It is then that I notice the low thumping of helicopter blades in the air, something I had become familiar with after moving to Brandon. With Shilo army base sitting only a half hours drive east, helicopters and military vehicles were common enough at any time. But this was louder than anything I had heard before.
Pulling my headphones off completely, letting them hang around my neck, I stare at a sky filled with helicopters. Which are soon overtaken by the huge transport planes that usually only land in Winnipeg two hours east of Brandon. The sun is momentarily blocked out by hundreds of aircraft soaring overhead to the west.
Turning to Jack, "what the fuck are they up to?" I call over the thump and hum of the aircraft.
Slowly, he brings his gaze down to meet mine.
"We're at war." He says quietly, just loud enough for me to hear.
A chill runs down my spine despite the summer heat as the sky darkens, thumping, humming.
|
|
[WP] World War 3 has just started. Who is at war and why?
|
Farzad Armani was an Iranian revolutionary, involved in the opening stages of that country's conflict. Here he shares what motivated him to action.
"My brother was killed by police forces for his participation in the Green Revolution protests in 2009. A tear gas canister was fired into the crowd and struck his head, killing him. He meant everything to me, I probably idolized him. After that, I became a thorn in the side of the regime, and for my actions, I served 10 years in prison. I became more bitter. When I was released; I saw only one course of action. I would do whatever was in my power to tear down the Fascist regime. I put together an improvised explosive device, smuggled it into Tehran, and detonated it near the Revolutionary Guards barracks. At first I thought I would go on like this, a lone anarchist, until I found others like me. And then we built our movement."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Deng Jiaming served in the Logistics branch of China's People's Liberation Army at the start of the conflict until his capture at the Second Battle of the Yalu River in 2034.
"People looked at China and saw an industrial powerhouse, and it was. Most did not see it's vulnerabilities. When the civil war began in Iran, China lost it's primary source of oil. Domestic production could not meet our needs; we had roughly seven months of fuel before the economy and military ground to a halt. So we had to accelerate plans in the South China Sea. The People's Liberation Army Navy began taking direct control of our interests in the sea; various island chains and atolls which would give us access to large reserves of oil and gas and productive fishing grounds. Unlike many have claimed, we were not looking for war with Vietnam, the Vietnamese were the aggressors, they fired the fatal shot."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Dak Nguyen was a corporal in the Vietnamese Army at the war's start, and served in the frontier battles with China.
"We hated the Chinese, hated them with a passion. It was an ancient rivalry, even thousands of years ago the Chinese Emperors looked at Vietnam with greed. The 1979 invasion had put this in perspective for those of us who thought that International Communism would put an end to this.
We were not as well equipped as the Chinese, and we were outnumbered. But was this not always the case when Vietnam stood against aggression? We were well trained in one thing, and that was guerrilla tactics. We held out at the border for weeks after the Chinese broke the line. We would raid them at night, or during the monsoon rains. I remember the face of the first Chinese soldier I shot. He must have been 20 meters away, less maybe. I aimed my Kalashnikov at him, and fired 3 or 4 rounds. His face contorted in agony and he fell, staring at me. That was a shock, that was how I was introduced to war.
Do I feel sympathy? No. Look at my scars. Do you know how this happened? I was captured. They took me, and strung out barbed wire in front of me, then they kicked me and beat me, pressing me on top of it. No, we should have killed all of those barbarians."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Lieutenant Commander Park Sung continues to serve in the Korean navy, following his service in the war.
"When the Sinas went and invaded Vietnam, we realized that they wanted to take us one at a time, so we had to band together. Together with the Japanese, the Filipinos, and the Malaysians, Thais, and Indonesians; we stood against China. Taiwan and the US weren't involved until a bit later, as you know.
Immediately following the declaration of war though, the Chinese tried to crush our fleets. We were steaming just east of the Senkakus when the first missiles started coming in. These were big DF-21 ballistic missiles; they shot up into the upper atmosphere, and then came down right on top of you, just one could sink an aircraft carrier. There must have been 75 in the first barrage, and all of the tracers and flares and missiles shooting back at them...it must have looked like your American Fourth of July.
In any case, my vessel was sunk a mere two hours after I went to war. I won't speak any more about the horrors we faced drifting in that ocean."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Jessica Menendez was a civilian in the United States during the war.
"It was so surreal at first. They were saying that the world was going to end because people were fighting over places I couldn't find on a map. We were all pretty happy about the Iranian Revolution; they were all crazy anyway, they said that there would be peace in the Middle East. Two generations of Americans had died there, what more could we ask for?
But when the Chinese went on the offensive, we didn't understand that at first. Some of us didn't want to get involved at all.
Turns out we didn't have a choice, because then Black Saturday rolled around. All I remember was suddenly everything just went dark; no TV, no phone, no internet. It turns out that the Chinese were shooting down all of the allied satellites, and the debris took out almost every single communications satellite in orbit. But that wasn't enough to drag us into war, no Guam did that."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Lance Corporal Sidney Blackman was a US Marine stationed at Guam Naval Air Facility in the Central Pacific.
"We knew something was up when the satellite feeds went dark, and we all got to cover. As soon as the Chinese attacked the Spratlys and Vietnam we'd started working on shelters, and it was a good thing.
The first to pass over were Chinese jets, J-10s and J-11s mostly. And our F-22s shot almost ll of them down immediately. Then the missile barrage began.
Ever two seconds...BANG!...BANG!...BANG! Just like that, and then it just got heavier, because our planes were out of missiles, and they couldn't land, so they had to fly all the way over to Japan to land. So then the Chinese brought these big 'ole four engined bombers over, and just started pounding us, and it was like the loudest thunderstorm you'd ever heard, times ten.
Two hours later they brought in their navy and started shelling us. Eventually I was able to peek outside, and it just looked like the face of the moon. Not anything left standing.
We held out for a week and a half before they stormed the island. I was one of 46 Americans to live."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Marcus Lansing was the US Assistant Secretary of Defense.
"I relocated to NORAD immediately, and the President was also shifted to a deep level shelter because we frankly expected nuclear missiles to start hitting Washington and New York and LA as soon as the war got started.
Apparently President Zhu had half a brain, because they didn't, so we didn't launch any missiles either. It was lucky. But we still weren't asking if they would launch, but when.
And then, Taiwan had to pick exactly that goddamn moment to declare independence from China."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Ma Dawei was a Private in the Army of the Republic of China (Taiwan) during the war.
"It was written into the Chinese constitution that if Taiwan ever declared independence from China, the People's Republic would invade.
Well they tried, and we fought tooth and nail, and they didn't take an inch of our homeland, not one inch! We drove the communist pigs into the sea!
Of course, we didn't expect them to level Taipei. My entire family was lost, I can only hope that they were incinerated in the blast and died quickly."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Assistant Secretary Lansing:
"I don't know what snapped over on the Chinese side, but then they nuked Taiwan. And we got ready to fire our missiles and thank God that President Campbell was a level-headed guy and stopped at the last minute.
He was acutely in tune with the situation, he seemed to know everything, no matter where it was happening. It was like he was inside of the US and Chinese governments, watching what was happening, and he saw the coup coming before it started.
He saw the breakdown begin when Taipei was hit, and then came the Western Incursion. I don't know why the Chinese decided to invade Kyrgyzstan but it may have lost them the war. At that point even Russia had to turn against them. As soon as India joined the allies, that also sealed the deal.
So he had the Pacific Fleet go active, but with strict orders to maintain a defensive posture. This was also communicated to our allies. He knew, that if we dragged out the war long enough, elements within China would move against the government.
And it took another two years, but he was right, and the Chinese government fell and not another nuclear weapon was used by either side."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Xi Gouyu is Vice President of the Yunnan Social Republic.
"I'll tell you something that disappointed most of you Westerners. You can't fit 1.3 billion people into a democracy, especially following a revolution like the one we had here in China. Too many factions, too many different parties that all wanted something different. To put it simply, China split up, and we did it bloodlessly, a velvet division. There are 9 different nations that were once the People's Republic. They each share a culture, still use the same currency, and they still get along fine. But they are all proud nations now, and prosperous nations and above all, peaceful nations. Sure there was concern over the Singapore treaty at first, but can we not say it has worked out for the best?
It's still a new world my friend. And thank whichever God you prefer that we still have one at all after the war."
|
Listening to a CBC radio podcast as I stand in the July sun washing lettuce for the farmer's market I hear Jack exit his house. The screen door which he has always caught with his foot to avoid slamming, crashes into the doorframe with a loud clap of aluminum on old pine. The sound catches me unaware and I jump at the sudden intrusion into the podcast about an East Indian poet. Turning I see Jack's casual air and easy smile have been replaced by a slight slumping of his shoulders and a tense tightening around his mouth and eyes.
"Hey jack, I'm almost done the Grand Rapids," I say as I lift a headphone off my right ear. "Should I take the mescaline mix next? Or Swiss Charred?"
Jack stares blankly out past my left shoulder to the field of vegetables, sectioned like street blocks, with different variations of certain squash or bean broken with stripped willow branch stakes. At first I think he is contemplating my question, but then I notice he is not focused on anything, staring above the field to the sky beyond the tree belt which protects his crop from erosion.
"What is it?" I ask, turning to search for what has stricken Jack silent. It is then that I notice the low thumping of helicopter blades in the air, something I had become familiar with after moving to Brandon. With Shilo army base sitting only a half hours drive east, helicopters and military vehicles were common enough at any time. But this was louder than anything I had heard before.
Pulling my headphones off completely, letting them hang around my neck, I stare at a sky filled with helicopters. Which are soon overtaken by the huge transport planes that usually only land in Winnipeg two hours east of Brandon. The sun is momentarily blocked out by hundreds of aircraft soaring overhead to the west.
Turning to Jack, "what the fuck are they up to?" I call over the thump and hum of the aircraft.
Slowly, he brings his gaze down to meet mine.
"We're at war." He says quietly, just loud enough for me to hear.
A chill runs down my spine despite the summer heat as the sky darkens, thumping, humming.
|
|
[WP] World War 3 has just started. Who is at war and why?
|
Farzad Armani was an Iranian revolutionary, involved in the opening stages of that country's conflict. Here he shares what motivated him to action.
"My brother was killed by police forces for his participation in the Green Revolution protests in 2009. A tear gas canister was fired into the crowd and struck his head, killing him. He meant everything to me, I probably idolized him. After that, I became a thorn in the side of the regime, and for my actions, I served 10 years in prison. I became more bitter. When I was released; I saw only one course of action. I would do whatever was in my power to tear down the Fascist regime. I put together an improvised explosive device, smuggled it into Tehran, and detonated it near the Revolutionary Guards barracks. At first I thought I would go on like this, a lone anarchist, until I found others like me. And then we built our movement."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Deng Jiaming served in the Logistics branch of China's People's Liberation Army at the start of the conflict until his capture at the Second Battle of the Yalu River in 2034.
"People looked at China and saw an industrial powerhouse, and it was. Most did not see it's vulnerabilities. When the civil war began in Iran, China lost it's primary source of oil. Domestic production could not meet our needs; we had roughly seven months of fuel before the economy and military ground to a halt. So we had to accelerate plans in the South China Sea. The People's Liberation Army Navy began taking direct control of our interests in the sea; various island chains and atolls which would give us access to large reserves of oil and gas and productive fishing grounds. Unlike many have claimed, we were not looking for war with Vietnam, the Vietnamese were the aggressors, they fired the fatal shot."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Dak Nguyen was a corporal in the Vietnamese Army at the war's start, and served in the frontier battles with China.
"We hated the Chinese, hated them with a passion. It was an ancient rivalry, even thousands of years ago the Chinese Emperors looked at Vietnam with greed. The 1979 invasion had put this in perspective for those of us who thought that International Communism would put an end to this.
We were not as well equipped as the Chinese, and we were outnumbered. But was this not always the case when Vietnam stood against aggression? We were well trained in one thing, and that was guerrilla tactics. We held out at the border for weeks after the Chinese broke the line. We would raid them at night, or during the monsoon rains. I remember the face of the first Chinese soldier I shot. He must have been 20 meters away, less maybe. I aimed my Kalashnikov at him, and fired 3 or 4 rounds. His face contorted in agony and he fell, staring at me. That was a shock, that was how I was introduced to war.
Do I feel sympathy? No. Look at my scars. Do you know how this happened? I was captured. They took me, and strung out barbed wire in front of me, then they kicked me and beat me, pressing me on top of it. No, we should have killed all of those barbarians."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Lieutenant Commander Park Sung continues to serve in the Korean navy, following his service in the war.
"When the Sinas went and invaded Vietnam, we realized that they wanted to take us one at a time, so we had to band together. Together with the Japanese, the Filipinos, and the Malaysians, Thais, and Indonesians; we stood against China. Taiwan and the US weren't involved until a bit later, as you know.
Immediately following the declaration of war though, the Chinese tried to crush our fleets. We were steaming just east of the Senkakus when the first missiles started coming in. These were big DF-21 ballistic missiles; they shot up into the upper atmosphere, and then came down right on top of you, just one could sink an aircraft carrier. There must have been 75 in the first barrage, and all of the tracers and flares and missiles shooting back at them...it must have looked like your American Fourth of July.
In any case, my vessel was sunk a mere two hours after I went to war. I won't speak any more about the horrors we faced drifting in that ocean."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Jessica Menendez was a civilian in the United States during the war.
"It was so surreal at first. They were saying that the world was going to end because people were fighting over places I couldn't find on a map. We were all pretty happy about the Iranian Revolution; they were all crazy anyway, they said that there would be peace in the Middle East. Two generations of Americans had died there, what more could we ask for?
But when the Chinese went on the offensive, we didn't understand that at first. Some of us didn't want to get involved at all.
Turns out we didn't have a choice, because then Black Saturday rolled around. All I remember was suddenly everything just went dark; no TV, no phone, no internet. It turns out that the Chinese were shooting down all of the allied satellites, and the debris took out almost every single communications satellite in orbit. But that wasn't enough to drag us into war, no Guam did that."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Lance Corporal Sidney Blackman was a US Marine stationed at Guam Naval Air Facility in the Central Pacific.
"We knew something was up when the satellite feeds went dark, and we all got to cover. As soon as the Chinese attacked the Spratlys and Vietnam we'd started working on shelters, and it was a good thing.
The first to pass over were Chinese jets, J-10s and J-11s mostly. And our F-22s shot almost ll of them down immediately. Then the missile barrage began.
Ever two seconds...BANG!...BANG!...BANG! Just like that, and then it just got heavier, because our planes were out of missiles, and they couldn't land, so they had to fly all the way over to Japan to land. So then the Chinese brought these big 'ole four engined bombers over, and just started pounding us, and it was like the loudest thunderstorm you'd ever heard, times ten.
Two hours later they brought in their navy and started shelling us. Eventually I was able to peek outside, and it just looked like the face of the moon. Not anything left standing.
We held out for a week and a half before they stormed the island. I was one of 46 Americans to live."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Marcus Lansing was the US Assistant Secretary of Defense.
"I relocated to NORAD immediately, and the President was also shifted to a deep level shelter because we frankly expected nuclear missiles to start hitting Washington and New York and LA as soon as the war got started.
Apparently President Zhu had half a brain, because they didn't, so we didn't launch any missiles either. It was lucky. But we still weren't asking if they would launch, but when.
And then, Taiwan had to pick exactly that goddamn moment to declare independence from China."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Ma Dawei was a Private in the Army of the Republic of China (Taiwan) during the war.
"It was written into the Chinese constitution that if Taiwan ever declared independence from China, the People's Republic would invade.
Well they tried, and we fought tooth and nail, and they didn't take an inch of our homeland, not one inch! We drove the communist pigs into the sea!
Of course, we didn't expect them to level Taipei. My entire family was lost, I can only hope that they were incinerated in the blast and died quickly."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Assistant Secretary Lansing:
"I don't know what snapped over on the Chinese side, but then they nuked Taiwan. And we got ready to fire our missiles and thank God that President Campbell was a level-headed guy and stopped at the last minute.
He was acutely in tune with the situation, he seemed to know everything, no matter where it was happening. It was like he was inside of the US and Chinese governments, watching what was happening, and he saw the coup coming before it started.
He saw the breakdown begin when Taipei was hit, and then came the Western Incursion. I don't know why the Chinese decided to invade Kyrgyzstan but it may have lost them the war. At that point even Russia had to turn against them. As soon as India joined the allies, that also sealed the deal.
So he had the Pacific Fleet go active, but with strict orders to maintain a defensive posture. This was also communicated to our allies. He knew, that if we dragged out the war long enough, elements within China would move against the government.
And it took another two years, but he was right, and the Chinese government fell and not another nuclear weapon was used by either side."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Xi Gouyu is Vice President of the Yunnan Social Republic.
"I'll tell you something that disappointed most of you Westerners. You can't fit 1.3 billion people into a democracy, especially following a revolution like the one we had here in China. Too many factions, too many different parties that all wanted something different. To put it simply, China split up, and we did it bloodlessly, a velvet division. There are 9 different nations that were once the People's Republic. They each share a culture, still use the same currency, and they still get along fine. But they are all proud nations now, and prosperous nations and above all, peaceful nations. Sure there was concern over the Singapore treaty at first, but can we not say it has worked out for the best?
It's still a new world my friend. And thank whichever God you prefer that we still have one at all after the war."
|
2018 - That'll probably be the year that will go down as the official start of the third world war. Exactly a century from the end of the first. Well, getting into academic technicalities, it was really the second world war continued.
Sure, some other dates get thrown around in academic debate. 2014 most notably, when the civil was started in Ukraine. Russia openly stepped in as a "peacekeeper" that December. In response the West started arming the Ukrainian military.
2015 and 2017 were important years as well. The former because The Imperial Restoration Committee of Japan came to power that year, following a political crisis. There was enough mud in the water about those unscheduled elections that they might actually have been legitimate. And of course, the latter, when Japan abandoned its' US ties and formed a military alliance with China.
Russia, forced into near-total international isolation by this point, remained focused on the west, trying to depose the "Maidan fascists" as they called them in propaganda, while simultaneously trying to annex Belorussia bloodlessly, with bribes and threats in equal measure targeted at the political and military elite. Finally, on the 16th of December, 2017, Russian troops moved in to support a pro-integration coup in Belorussia. And on New Years' Eve, the whole stack of cards fell apart. Reports were sketchy at the time, but Putin was either dead, or in a critical condition at a hospital.
Taking advantage of the momentary confusion, Japan moved to reclaim the Kurils in mid-january 2018. Most likely, they expected that Russia would simply cave in if Japanese forces *de facto* held the territory, to avoid risking conflict with China.
It's been three years since. Putin, widely held responsible for starting everything, died in hospital a months after the war started. But the war rages on. NATO joined the conflict in order to contain Chinese expansion. The Koreas have renewed their conflict as well, though it quickly turned into a classic trench warfare stalemate along the DMZ.
It's a minor miracle that the strategic nukes still haven't been used. Correction, they haven't been used successfully. North Korea tried, but everything they launched fell apart in the air or got intercepted. In any case, it seems only a matter of time...
|
|
[WP] Whenever Alice dreams, she relives the entire day of a random person on earth, sometimes strangers and sometimes people she knows in real life. Tonight, as she falls asleep, she enters the day of the man she just married.
|
Alice has always had difficulties keeping her mind to herself. It started when she was a little girl and followed that white rabbit. Now twenty years later her mind has decided to take a trip all its own.
As she lays her head down with not a worry in her mind she finds herself slipping away. She assumed it was to dreamland but then the splitting headache started. She was being torn from her own body and being placed into a new one.
When her eyes opened up she felt weird...different somehow. She was no longer laying in bed but was sitting in front of a bar. She looked around trying to get her surroundings when she finally recognized the vehicle she was in. It was her husband's car. The thing she didn't understand was why would he be in front of the bar. He told her he never drank.
Her husband's, Joseph, body started to get out of the vehicle unaware it had an unwanted passenger. Joseph had sat down right in front of the bar, ordered a whiskey, and started acting strange. He seemed as though he was hunting for something or someone. He kept scanning the area with his body sweating like a pig. It was as though he was acting like he was going on a date. Was he really thinking about cheating on her?
That's when she walked in. A tall blonde around 5'0" and very great on the eyes. Joseph had perked right up as if he was waiting for her his whole life. He had walked over to this woman and did the usual pick up lines. He even dared to use "did it hurt when you fell from heaven" line. Of course the dumb bimbo had fell for his cheesy line and next thing Alice knew time had gone forward.
It was now 2am Joseph and the blonde had gone back to a hotel. Alice had noticed he was naked in bed with the slut fast asleep beside him. It didn't take a genius to notice what the two had done but that's when things got weird. Joseph had woke up while the blonde lay still and silent beside him. He put on his underwear and headed out to the vehicle. He had pulled out a hunter's knife and a ton of garbage bags. He had walked methodically back toward the room with a new step. He seemed happier than Alice has ever seen and that scared her.
Joseph leaned over the blonde almost salivating with anticipation about what he was about to perform. He stood there staring at the woman for hours until she had finally woke up on her own. He wasn't waiting that long before her brain awoke her and told her something was wrong. That she was in danger before her body even realized it. As soon as her eyes flickered open he was upon her.
He had stabbed that poor woman 30 times before she stopped screaming and passed out from pain. Once she had stopped moving he had started to chop her up and place her individual pieces into the bags. He had later tidied up the room and acted as if nothing had happened. The only thing he had left in the room was a note written in blood. "This is so your safe." The note was obviously for Alice; she could just sense that.
How long had he been a killer for and why didn't she know about it. shouldn't she have sensed he was evil. There had to have been a tell. With the trauma she had just witnessed, she had blacked out. Alice was now lying back at home with Joseph snoring beside her. She stared at Joseph and how peaceful he looked while sleeping. Did she hallucinate that he was a killer or did she actually witness him murder someone.
Alice wasn't a killer but at the same time after what she just witnessed she felt she had no choice. How could she lay next to someone who just killed an innocent person. She had walked down to her kitchen and looked at the phone. Alice thought to herself "maybe I could call the cops? They'd be able to take him off the streets." As Alice stared at the phone she didn't hear the faint footsteps of her husband walking down the stairs.
Joseph made it all the way to the kitchen before Alice even noticed. He had slithered beside her and wrapped his arms around her. "I know what you saw!" Alice spun around and screamed but Joseph had covered her mouth. "How dare you invade my personal life! I did all that for you, you know! I didn't want to hurt you but you just couldn't resist. You just couldn't mind your own damn business!" Alice wiggled free and started to deny what he was saying but she never was a good liar.
She ran as fast as she could but it seemed Joseph was just to quick for her. In a matter of seconds her new husband had his hands around her throat. "Oh Alice. How I wished this could have ended with a happily ever after if you could only have mind your own business. See I also travel into people's minds. Not like you though. I just look at them and I know what they know, all there dirty little secrets. That's how I pick the ones that I kill. I only kill people who don't deserve to live and the people that threaten me. I guess you know which category you belong to. Just remember this Alice, I love you." With that final parting Joseph had snapped Alice's neck.
Alice lay dying on the floor while Joseph packed his things and was preparing to make a run for it. The last thing Alice saw before she had died was Joseph leaning over her cold body and repeating "things could have been different. I love you, Alice."
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(First time posting, I would love constructive criticism! PM me if there are points I need to work on. Thanks in advance! ) Alice nuzzles her face into the cool pillow, excited to see what tonight’s dreams would be. Most people hated the thought of losing hours of their life just sleeping but Alice loved these all too brief exploits into another person’s world. Some of her dreams showed the worst day a person could ever live though but she wouldn't trade the experiences she felt with anyone else on earth; because Alice had her husband Jack to see her though the worst nights of her life and give her the best days she has ever felt.
Smiling she felt her husband’s arms coil around her waist as she curls up against his chest to falls asleep. Seconds later her mind was filled with thick swirling fog and her body slipped into the warm heavy skin of a new body. She shuttered in response to the new body proportions before the fog was lifted, and the first thing Alice saw herself. The thought barely settled in her mind before Jack leaned over and kissed her awake. She smiled a huge grin and Alice felt the rumble of his laugh throughout her chest. She violently tried to shake herself awake, knowing that something didn’t feel right about this day, about this dream, Jack she whispered hoping that he would hear her and knowing he wouldn’t.. they never did.
She gritted her teeth and tried to shake free as Jack got out of bed to take a shower leaving sleepy Alice groggily getting out of bed to fix them both coffees. Alice struggled without fail to wake herself up with the feeling of dread slipping over her soul like cold tar leaching out the feeling of everything good that ever happened to her. Jack slipped into the shower just as the water started to steam and Alice cried bitter tears as Jack was sliced from neck to navel by the woman who vowed to love and protect him. Alice watched as he fell in the tub and heard rather than felt his teeth and jaw shatter into hundreds of pieces down the drain.
Jack laid there in the tub eyes open while seeing nothing but Alice saw. She saw the water swirl with crimson strands treading though strong open fingers and cursed this horrible memory. Alice forced herself to relax, she was with Jack in bed and everything would be fine as soon as she woke up. He forgave her and they would always be together. The water was shut off and large terry towels began to dry Jack off. Grunts of exertion sounded just out of sight as Jack’s heavy body was slowly rolled out of the tub and onto the floor. Half the day was spent feeling this body dragged across the floor before finally being hoisted inch by inch onto the over-sized slay bed.
Alice stared up at herself seeing the sweat beading off her forehead, her brown eyes large and glassy with the shock of what she had just done in order to keep her husband away from his tramp of an ex-wife forever. Alice woke up in degrees first tasting the salt of her tears before hearing her own whimpers of distress. Jack’s dry leathery skin brushed against her face and she smiled to see her husband was still home with her. His presence would make everything OK.
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[WP] Whenever Alice dreams, she relives the entire day of a random person on earth, sometimes strangers and sometimes people she knows in real life. Tonight, as she falls asleep, she enters the day of the man she just married.
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She was always different from the other children. On her thirteenth birthday she started to dream things. Dream the life of someone else. At first it was just one person from somewhere in China. However, the next week she dreamed of someone through India. Flash foreword thirteen years and at the ripe age of 26 she can dream up to five people in one night. Sometimes Alice could see the lives of people around her, like that girl from the coffee shop or the man at the bakery she buys bread from every other week.
One day Alice dreamt of a man, and his name was Damien. She dreamt of him for countless nights, but when she lived his life she would see herself. They were lovers. After living a month as Damien she would see herself marry him and she would see them live a life full of happiness with.
When she woke up, she realized she had never met Damien. Alice was confused. In her dream she would always be able to see the future. Why was it different for Damien?
Alice exited her room and walked into her kitchen to read the news and eat breakfast for that day. Alice scanned the paper with aromatic coffee in her hand. She dropped her cup and widened her eyes, ignoring the sharp shards that dug into her feet.
[LOCAL NEWS]
Today a Chinese 28 year old man named Daiyu Wang died in his sleep. Apparently he had been sleeping for over a month. Researchers are still studying this baffling case. Stay tuned for more updates.
Alice took a shaky deep breath. **Daiyu looked exactly like Damien** What did this mean? All through her life was she stealing another's? Has she been dreaming lies all this time? Was Damien even Daiyu? What is going on!?
She needed to get to the bottom of this. Alice ran out the door and bumped into someone.
"Oh I'm so sorry sir! I-Daiyu!?" She stood shocked at the man that should've died in his sleep.
The man furrowed his eyebrows, "Have we met before miss?"
Alice started to breath heavily, "I- You!-We!"
Her vision was getting blurry, she couldn't breath! Looking around she tried to grasp Dimitri's shirt. It was too late.
Alice woke up in a white hospital room. The smell of the bland sanitary hospital was heavy in the air. She sat up slowly, still dazed by what had happened. She looked to her side and saw Daiyu wide awake and staring at her concerned.
"Laopo! Are you alright? Do you need anything! Say something!" He was babbling at her.
Alice was shocked, "Daiyu? Get away from me!" She pushed Daiyu away, "We've never met before! Go away!"
Alice looked up while battering Daiyu away from her. The doctor stood in the doorway before running towards Daiyu and separating them by force.
"王先生请！王女士仍在复苏!" The doctor was talking in Chinese?
Alice grabbed her information clipboard and stared intense at the words.
It was all in Chinese but she could understand it!
Name: Wang, Jia Li
Age: 26, Fainted immediately after waking up. Wang Daiyu is the husband and guardian for her current stay.
Alice didn't understand. Is she Alice? Is she still in a dream? Was Alice Wang Jia Li from the beginning?
Alice blacked out.
____________________________________________
This is a half-assed attempt. Don't blame me for crappiness. I'm a little too high for this shit right now.
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(First time posting, I would love constructive criticism! PM me if there are points I need to work on. Thanks in advance! ) Alice nuzzles her face into the cool pillow, excited to see what tonight’s dreams would be. Most people hated the thought of losing hours of their life just sleeping but Alice loved these all too brief exploits into another person’s world. Some of her dreams showed the worst day a person could ever live though but she wouldn't trade the experiences she felt with anyone else on earth; because Alice had her husband Jack to see her though the worst nights of her life and give her the best days she has ever felt.
Smiling she felt her husband’s arms coil around her waist as she curls up against his chest to falls asleep. Seconds later her mind was filled with thick swirling fog and her body slipped into the warm heavy skin of a new body. She shuttered in response to the new body proportions before the fog was lifted, and the first thing Alice saw herself. The thought barely settled in her mind before Jack leaned over and kissed her awake. She smiled a huge grin and Alice felt the rumble of his laugh throughout her chest. She violently tried to shake herself awake, knowing that something didn’t feel right about this day, about this dream, Jack she whispered hoping that he would hear her and knowing he wouldn’t.. they never did.
She gritted her teeth and tried to shake free as Jack got out of bed to take a shower leaving sleepy Alice groggily getting out of bed to fix them both coffees. Alice struggled without fail to wake herself up with the feeling of dread slipping over her soul like cold tar leaching out the feeling of everything good that ever happened to her. Jack slipped into the shower just as the water started to steam and Alice cried bitter tears as Jack was sliced from neck to navel by the woman who vowed to love and protect him. Alice watched as he fell in the tub and heard rather than felt his teeth and jaw shatter into hundreds of pieces down the drain.
Jack laid there in the tub eyes open while seeing nothing but Alice saw. She saw the water swirl with crimson strands treading though strong open fingers and cursed this horrible memory. Alice forced herself to relax, she was with Jack in bed and everything would be fine as soon as she woke up. He forgave her and they would always be together. The water was shut off and large terry towels began to dry Jack off. Grunts of exertion sounded just out of sight as Jack’s heavy body was slowly rolled out of the tub and onto the floor. Half the day was spent feeling this body dragged across the floor before finally being hoisted inch by inch onto the over-sized slay bed.
Alice stared up at herself seeing the sweat beading off her forehead, her brown eyes large and glassy with the shock of what she had just done in order to keep her husband away from his tramp of an ex-wife forever. Alice woke up in degrees first tasting the salt of her tears before hearing her own whimpers of distress. Jack’s dry leathery skin brushed against her face and she smiled to see her husband was still home with her. His presence would make everything OK.
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[WP] Whenever Alice dreams, she relives the entire day of a random person on earth, sometimes strangers and sometimes people she knows in real life. Tonight, as she falls asleep, she enters the day of the man she just married.
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Alice awoke to find herself sleepy and stubbly. She quietly slipped out of bed in the dark, pre-dawn gloom to find the restroom in this new house. When she found the light switch, she quickly flipped it. To her surprise, she saw a blue rubbish bin, a chrome towel rack and the remnants of toilet tissue thrown in it – just as she had last night after blowing her nose. Her conscious mind started to panic, but she knew she wasn’t in control. She would just have to live out this day like she lived out every other day inside the bodies of others, only today it wasn’t just any other body; it was the body of her newly wed husband, Luke. Luke went to the sink and turned on the water, splashing the warm skin beneath his beard a few times with the cold water. He then went to the bath tub and turned it on hot. Taking a shower was interesting. Although Alice couldn’t control what was happening, she could feel it, and it didn’t feel anything like what she thought it would. The shower was too hot, and the way that Luke stubbornly scrubbed his body with the loufa kind of hurt. When Luke finally got out of the shower, he walked over to the vanity, looked at the razor, the looked back at the mirror. His face was chiseled and scruffy, further defining his jawline. He ran a firm hand over the hair, and decided not to shave it today. He reached for the toothbrush, wet it, and put a copious amount of paste on it.
*‘He should be coming over to kiss bye me at any point now.’*
After brushing his teeth, combing his short, sandy blond hair, he left to the bedroom, quickly got dressed, and left for work.
~~~
Luke got to work safely, but Alice was still livid. How could he not kiss her good-bye or show any affection at all before he left for work? It was so uncharacteristic of him…
Luke’s office was a large room with a well-sized oak work desk with brushed-bronze accents and a glass slate over the top. Luke sat down in his large plush chair and began to file paperwork on his PC, and after about an hour of this and three cups of coffee, he leaned back and looked out the window. He had a full view of the entire city, all of the harsh glints of the glass and metal monoliths that make of the topography of a well-to-do living.
The door to his office opened, and Luke swiveled back around. A tall brunette wearing a grey pencil skirt and a white blouse with ruffles around the bosom accented by red four inch pumps entered carrying a manila envelope and said, “Mr. Hawthorne, here are the papers you requested on that lawsuit against the Upper Provincial Offices.” She then set the envelope on the desk and proceeded to sit on the chair across from Luke. “So, in there anything else you need?”
*‘Is this tramp trying to seduce my husband!?’*
“Why, there might just be something,” Luke said, with his almost nonchalant tone. He rose from the desk, loosening his tie as he went around it to the woman, and stood before her. She took off her glasses, started to rise from the chair, unbuttoning her blouse. The closer Luke got, the more Alice’s stomach began to drop, and when they began to touch, her hand sliding down his bare chest to the black leather belt Alice had given him for Christmas, the woman undoing the clasp with one hand, skillfully lowering his slacks, getting on her knees, Luke’s soft, almost inaudible moan, she began to –
*‘NO!’*
Alice bolted awake, still safely in her on bed. She looked at the clock. Four in the morning, it said, the red numbers flashing. A body rustled beside her, sat up, rubbed its eyes, and blatantly asked, “Honey, is everything alright? Was it a bad experience?”
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(First time posting, I would love constructive criticism! PM me if there are points I need to work on. Thanks in advance! ) Alice nuzzles her face into the cool pillow, excited to see what tonight’s dreams would be. Most people hated the thought of losing hours of their life just sleeping but Alice loved these all too brief exploits into another person’s world. Some of her dreams showed the worst day a person could ever live though but she wouldn't trade the experiences she felt with anyone else on earth; because Alice had her husband Jack to see her though the worst nights of her life and give her the best days she has ever felt.
Smiling she felt her husband’s arms coil around her waist as she curls up against his chest to falls asleep. Seconds later her mind was filled with thick swirling fog and her body slipped into the warm heavy skin of a new body. She shuttered in response to the new body proportions before the fog was lifted, and the first thing Alice saw herself. The thought barely settled in her mind before Jack leaned over and kissed her awake. She smiled a huge grin and Alice felt the rumble of his laugh throughout her chest. She violently tried to shake herself awake, knowing that something didn’t feel right about this day, about this dream, Jack she whispered hoping that he would hear her and knowing he wouldn’t.. they never did.
She gritted her teeth and tried to shake free as Jack got out of bed to take a shower leaving sleepy Alice groggily getting out of bed to fix them both coffees. Alice struggled without fail to wake herself up with the feeling of dread slipping over her soul like cold tar leaching out the feeling of everything good that ever happened to her. Jack slipped into the shower just as the water started to steam and Alice cried bitter tears as Jack was sliced from neck to navel by the woman who vowed to love and protect him. Alice watched as he fell in the tub and heard rather than felt his teeth and jaw shatter into hundreds of pieces down the drain.
Jack laid there in the tub eyes open while seeing nothing but Alice saw. She saw the water swirl with crimson strands treading though strong open fingers and cursed this horrible memory. Alice forced herself to relax, she was with Jack in bed and everything would be fine as soon as she woke up. He forgave her and they would always be together. The water was shut off and large terry towels began to dry Jack off. Grunts of exertion sounded just out of sight as Jack’s heavy body was slowly rolled out of the tub and onto the floor. Half the day was spent feeling this body dragged across the floor before finally being hoisted inch by inch onto the over-sized slay bed.
Alice stared up at herself seeing the sweat beading off her forehead, her brown eyes large and glassy with the shock of what she had just done in order to keep her husband away from his tramp of an ex-wife forever. Alice woke up in degrees first tasting the salt of her tears before hearing her own whimpers of distress. Jack’s dry leathery skin brushed against her face and she smiled to see her husband was still home with her. His presence would make everything OK.
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[WP] Whenever Alice dreams, she relives the entire day of a random person on earth, sometimes strangers and sometimes people she knows in real life. Tonight, as she falls asleep, she enters the day of the man she just married.
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POSSIBLY NSFW-ISH (Language and sexual stuff)
"I love you honey."
"I love you too." I smiled and felt him squeeze me tight into his arms. I felt so safe and happy. After only four years we were finally married. In love and together.
~~~
An Iphone alarm that my husband uses goes off. Eyes open and a hand reaches for the phone. It looks like our bedroom...and as I sit up I see the leg tattoo around my husbands left leg. I'm Jesse! I see myself through my husbands eyes and he leans in for a kiss.
"Morning love love."
I see my blonde hair..well, her, since I'm in Jesse and *my hand* pulls the covers to snuggle in tighter. Jesse, well I guess me... actually I, get up and head out to the kitchen. I start making coffee. Measuring it out exactly for the correct amount for us to split. I get out our mugs, and hold open the fridge for a few moments. Sooley, her dog, greets me with a little nudge. I let her outside and feel a little chill from the winter air. Looking around I see the frost settling on the grass and it's so quiet. Sooley, comes barreling inside excited and happy and I give her a good pat on the butt as she runs by.
I come in and bring me, well, *me* me the coffee and put it on the nightstand beside the bed. I give her a kiss again, and then walk back over and grab my phone from my table. With a swipe and the digits **2 1 4 2** it unlocks. There is 3 missed text messages. All from Tabitha. (The XR Tech he works with...)
*I know you're with someone but you can't admit what we have isn't amazing. Come over tonight. Tell her your going to hang with your buddy Mike.*
*It's late I know but just come over. I won't take long. You always make me cum so quick*
A picture of long, curly hair red headed woman, laying down on a bed, a devious smile on her lips and one hand covering one breast, squeezing it and a smooth belly with a simply piercing leading down to exposed hipbones and just the top of a her pubic area
*mmm you do look good. Should have went with you last night. I'll get away today. Text you when I'm omw*
I put the phone back on the nightstand and head out to the kitchen. 3 eggs, 2 for me and 1 for Alice, start chopping peppers and put on a record for easy listening this morning. Measuring out the oil I see my, well hers hands come around my waist.
"My baby... always so sweet to me." I hear a voice with such genuine love.
"Anything for you darling. Did you want avocado?"
"What I want..." I see her hand grab my cock from outside my pajama pants.
"Hahaha. That can easily be arranged." (I can't take this. He's really going to have sex with me right after texting Tabitha that? I married this man. I love this man.)
I turn and see... not me. Another woman. In our bed. Another woman he slept with. In our bed. I can't... Oh gosh. Now he is taking her... Sooley... our house. He makes her breakfast... why... I just...
I hear an IPhone ding go off. That's his text message sound.
"Hold on baby love. Give me a second." I see him squeeze her ass and walk back to our room. The swipe and passcode.
*Hey honey! I'm going to be getting out of work early tonight. Such a long night shift but everything wrapped up goo. See you soon darling!*
I hear him say Fuck. And run back out.
"Heather babe, you gotta go. Alice is coming back early."
"But you just got me going... come on." I see her hands pulls me at the hips as she wraps her mouth around my shaft.
"Fuuuck... gimme that ass."
~~~
"Aww sweetheart you made coffee. You're too good to me."
I see me; tired, in scrubs, but smiling so sweet to the man I love.
"Of course darling. That's why I married you."
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(First time posting, I would love constructive criticism! PM me if there are points I need to work on. Thanks in advance! ) Alice nuzzles her face into the cool pillow, excited to see what tonight’s dreams would be. Most people hated the thought of losing hours of their life just sleeping but Alice loved these all too brief exploits into another person’s world. Some of her dreams showed the worst day a person could ever live though but she wouldn't trade the experiences she felt with anyone else on earth; because Alice had her husband Jack to see her though the worst nights of her life and give her the best days she has ever felt.
Smiling she felt her husband’s arms coil around her waist as she curls up against his chest to falls asleep. Seconds later her mind was filled with thick swirling fog and her body slipped into the warm heavy skin of a new body. She shuttered in response to the new body proportions before the fog was lifted, and the first thing Alice saw herself. The thought barely settled in her mind before Jack leaned over and kissed her awake. She smiled a huge grin and Alice felt the rumble of his laugh throughout her chest. She violently tried to shake herself awake, knowing that something didn’t feel right about this day, about this dream, Jack she whispered hoping that he would hear her and knowing he wouldn’t.. they never did.
She gritted her teeth and tried to shake free as Jack got out of bed to take a shower leaving sleepy Alice groggily getting out of bed to fix them both coffees. Alice struggled without fail to wake herself up with the feeling of dread slipping over her soul like cold tar leaching out the feeling of everything good that ever happened to her. Jack slipped into the shower just as the water started to steam and Alice cried bitter tears as Jack was sliced from neck to navel by the woman who vowed to love and protect him. Alice watched as he fell in the tub and heard rather than felt his teeth and jaw shatter into hundreds of pieces down the drain.
Jack laid there in the tub eyes open while seeing nothing but Alice saw. She saw the water swirl with crimson strands treading though strong open fingers and cursed this horrible memory. Alice forced herself to relax, she was with Jack in bed and everything would be fine as soon as she woke up. He forgave her and they would always be together. The water was shut off and large terry towels began to dry Jack off. Grunts of exertion sounded just out of sight as Jack’s heavy body was slowly rolled out of the tub and onto the floor. Half the day was spent feeling this body dragged across the floor before finally being hoisted inch by inch onto the over-sized slay bed.
Alice stared up at herself seeing the sweat beading off her forehead, her brown eyes large and glassy with the shock of what she had just done in order to keep her husband away from his tramp of an ex-wife forever. Alice woke up in degrees first tasting the salt of her tears before hearing her own whimpers of distress. Jack’s dry leathery skin brushed against her face and she smiled to see her husband was still home with her. His presence would make everything OK.
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[WP] Whenever Alice dreams, she relives the entire day of a random person on earth, sometimes strangers and sometimes people she knows in real life. Tonight, as she falls asleep, she enters the day of the man she just married.
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Alice awoke to find herself sleepy and stubbly. She quietly slipped out of bed in the dark, pre-dawn gloom to find the restroom in this new house. When she found the light switch, she quickly flipped it. To her surprise, she saw a blue rubbish bin, a chrome towel rack and the remnants of toilet tissue thrown in it – just as she had last night after blowing her nose. Her conscious mind started to panic, but she knew she wasn’t in control. She would just have to live out this day like she lived out every other day inside the bodies of others, only today it wasn’t just any other body; it was the body of her newly wed husband, Luke. Luke went to the sink and turned on the water, splashing the warm skin beneath his beard a few times with the cold water. He then went to the bath tub and turned it on hot. Taking a shower was interesting. Although Alice couldn’t control what was happening, she could feel it, and it didn’t feel anything like what she thought it would. The shower was too hot, and the way that Luke stubbornly scrubbed his body with the loufa kind of hurt. When Luke finally got out of the shower, he walked over to the vanity, looked at the razor, the looked back at the mirror. His face was chiseled and scruffy, further defining his jawline. He ran a firm hand over the hair, and decided not to shave it today. He reached for the toothbrush, wet it, and put a copious amount of paste on it.
*‘He should be coming over to kiss bye me at any point now.’*
After brushing his teeth, combing his short, sandy blond hair, he left to the bedroom, quickly got dressed, and left for work.
~~~
Luke got to work safely, but Alice was still livid. How could he not kiss her good-bye or show any affection at all before he left for work? It was so uncharacteristic of him…
Luke’s office was a large room with a well-sized oak work desk with brushed-bronze accents and a glass slate over the top. Luke sat down in his large plush chair and began to file paperwork on his PC, and after about an hour of this and three cups of coffee, he leaned back and looked out the window. He had a full view of the entire city, all of the harsh glints of the glass and metal monoliths that make of the topography of a well-to-do living.
The door to his office opened, and Luke swiveled back around. A tall brunette wearing a grey pencil skirt and a white blouse with ruffles around the bosom accented by red four inch pumps entered carrying a manila envelope and said, “Mr. Hawthorne, here are the papers you requested on that lawsuit against the Upper Provincial Offices.” She then set the envelope on the desk and proceeded to sit on the chair across from Luke. “So, in there anything else you need?”
*‘Is this tramp trying to seduce my husband!?’*
“Why, there might just be something,” Luke said, with his almost nonchalant tone. He rose from the desk, loosening his tie as he went around it to the woman, and stood before her. She took off her glasses, started to rise from the chair, unbuttoning her blouse. The closer Luke got, the more Alice’s stomach began to drop, and when they began to touch, her hand sliding down his bare chest to the black leather belt Alice had given him for Christmas, the woman undoing the clasp with one hand, skillfully lowering his slacks, getting on her knees, Luke’s soft, almost inaudible moan, she began to –
*‘NO!’*
Alice bolted awake, still safely in her on bed. She looked at the clock. Four in the morning, it said, the red numbers flashing. A body rustled beside her, sat up, rubbed its eyes, and blatantly asked, “Honey, is everything alright? Was it a bad experience?”
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I slowly opened my eyes as cracks of light spilled across my bedsheets. Hmmm, that's weird, no dream today? I stretched and yawned....then stopped dead still as I realized that there was another me at the closet. "Hey sweetie," My thoughts whirled in a typhoon of mixed emotions as my body moved of it's own volition and took me--the other me--into a big embrace. "Today is the big day, I'm so excited!" the other me exclaimed, light shining out of her eyes. My body's lips curled up into a warm smile at the sight. "Me too" I said in a voice that was considerably deeper than it should have been. Wait, this is Will's voice, am I seriously in Will, on my wedding day of all days! Still, I guess it could have been worse. Not many girls get to experience their wedding twice--well, I guess it's not really me, it's him. Half excited, half nervous, I settled back into the mental recesses of Will's mind as he prepared for the occasion. After all, there isn't much else I can do but watch. After a shower and some breakfast, he headed out, calling over his shoulder, "I'm going to go a bit early, is that okay with you?" "Of course" said the other me. He walked out, and got into our small car, a used car that Will had fixed up. It was the car I had lost my virginity in, Parked in a secluded alley, I had finally worked up the courage to go beyond just simple touching. It was always like that with us. Both of us were timid, but Will was far worse than I. Handsome but shy, Will was always too timid to actually make a move. In the end, it was me who asked him out to the dingy old movie theatre and kissed him just before we parted. It was frustrating at times, his shyness, but perhaps it was for the best. With the amount of girls eyeing him wherever we go, I would never had a chance otherwise. A sudden jolt brought me back to the present as the car stopped suddenly in front of the wedding hall. Then the car door opened, and a tall man, came in.
EDIT: It's late, and I'm stuck. I'll finish this tomorrow :). Someone else is also welcome to make their own ending to this story.
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[WP] Whenever Alice dreams, she relives the entire day of a random person on earth, sometimes strangers and sometimes people she knows in real life. Tonight, as she falls asleep, she enters the day of the man she just married.
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POSSIBLY NSFW-ISH (Language and sexual stuff)
"I love you honey."
"I love you too." I smiled and felt him squeeze me tight into his arms. I felt so safe and happy. After only four years we were finally married. In love and together.
~~~
An Iphone alarm that my husband uses goes off. Eyes open and a hand reaches for the phone. It looks like our bedroom...and as I sit up I see the leg tattoo around my husbands left leg. I'm Jesse! I see myself through my husbands eyes and he leans in for a kiss.
"Morning love love."
I see my blonde hair..well, her, since I'm in Jesse and *my hand* pulls the covers to snuggle in tighter. Jesse, well I guess me... actually I, get up and head out to the kitchen. I start making coffee. Measuring it out exactly for the correct amount for us to split. I get out our mugs, and hold open the fridge for a few moments. Sooley, her dog, greets me with a little nudge. I let her outside and feel a little chill from the winter air. Looking around I see the frost settling on the grass and it's so quiet. Sooley, comes barreling inside excited and happy and I give her a good pat on the butt as she runs by.
I come in and bring me, well, *me* me the coffee and put it on the nightstand beside the bed. I give her a kiss again, and then walk back over and grab my phone from my table. With a swipe and the digits **2 1 4 2** it unlocks. There is 3 missed text messages. All from Tabitha. (The XR Tech he works with...)
*I know you're with someone but you can't admit what we have isn't amazing. Come over tonight. Tell her your going to hang with your buddy Mike.*
*It's late I know but just come over. I won't take long. You always make me cum so quick*
A picture of long, curly hair red headed woman, laying down on a bed, a devious smile on her lips and one hand covering one breast, squeezing it and a smooth belly with a simply piercing leading down to exposed hipbones and just the top of a her pubic area
*mmm you do look good. Should have went with you last night. I'll get away today. Text you when I'm omw*
I put the phone back on the nightstand and head out to the kitchen. 3 eggs, 2 for me and 1 for Alice, start chopping peppers and put on a record for easy listening this morning. Measuring out the oil I see my, well hers hands come around my waist.
"My baby... always so sweet to me." I hear a voice with such genuine love.
"Anything for you darling. Did you want avocado?"
"What I want..." I see her hand grab my cock from outside my pajama pants.
"Hahaha. That can easily be arranged." (I can't take this. He's really going to have sex with me right after texting Tabitha that? I married this man. I love this man.)
I turn and see... not me. Another woman. In our bed. Another woman he slept with. In our bed. I can't... Oh gosh. Now he is taking her... Sooley... our house. He makes her breakfast... why... I just...
I hear an IPhone ding go off. That's his text message sound.
"Hold on baby love. Give me a second." I see him squeeze her ass and walk back to our room. The swipe and passcode.
*Hey honey! I'm going to be getting out of work early tonight. Such a long night shift but everything wrapped up goo. See you soon darling!*
I hear him say Fuck. And run back out.
"Heather babe, you gotta go. Alice is coming back early."
"But you just got me going... come on." I see her hands pulls me at the hips as she wraps her mouth around my shaft.
"Fuuuck... gimme that ass."
~~~
"Aww sweetheart you made coffee. You're too good to me."
I see me; tired, in scrubs, but smiling so sweet to the man I love.
"Of course darling. That's why I married you."
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I slowly opened my eyes as cracks of light spilled across my bedsheets. Hmmm, that's weird, no dream today? I stretched and yawned....then stopped dead still as I realized that there was another me at the closet. "Hey sweetie," My thoughts whirled in a typhoon of mixed emotions as my body moved of it's own volition and took me--the other me--into a big embrace. "Today is the big day, I'm so excited!" the other me exclaimed, light shining out of her eyes. My body's lips curled up into a warm smile at the sight. "Me too" I said in a voice that was considerably deeper than it should have been. Wait, this is Will's voice, am I seriously in Will, on my wedding day of all days! Still, I guess it could have been worse. Not many girls get to experience their wedding twice--well, I guess it's not really me, it's him. Half excited, half nervous, I settled back into the mental recesses of Will's mind as he prepared for the occasion. After all, there isn't much else I can do but watch. After a shower and some breakfast, he headed out, calling over his shoulder, "I'm going to go a bit early, is that okay with you?" "Of course" said the other me. He walked out, and got into our small car, a used car that Will had fixed up. It was the car I had lost my virginity in, Parked in a secluded alley, I had finally worked up the courage to go beyond just simple touching. It was always like that with us. Both of us were timid, but Will was far worse than I. Handsome but shy, Will was always too timid to actually make a move. In the end, it was me who asked him out to the dingy old movie theatre and kissed him just before we parted. It was frustrating at times, his shyness, but perhaps it was for the best. With the amount of girls eyeing him wherever we go, I would never had a chance otherwise. A sudden jolt brought me back to the present as the car stopped suddenly in front of the wedding hall. Then the car door opened, and a tall man, came in.
EDIT: It's late, and I'm stuck. I'll finish this tomorrow :). Someone else is also welcome to make their own ending to this story.
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[WP] Whenever Alice dreams, she relives the entire day of a random person on earth, sometimes strangers and sometimes people she knows in real life. Tonight, as she falls asleep, she enters the day of the man she just married.
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My eyes shot open and I sat up panicked and disoriented. Wait, this was not me, this was... oh yeah, this was someone else. I was still tired, still a little drowsy, wait not, THIS person was. I always forget even though it's been 13 years, I always forget what happens in my dream. I, no HE, looked over at the clock, it was 5 minutes before his alarm. He held his head in his hands, my hands, and looked over at the form sleeping next to him. Making little noise, he slid out of his bed and gave that form a peck on the cheek. It was familiar, but when you've been so many different people, everything is familiar.
He walked into the bathroom and started the normal routine. It doesn't matter who you are, every morning is the same. He went to his sink and washed his hands looking into the sink, then he looked at his face in the mirror. TOM! Oh my god, my husband! His eye twitched a little and he rubbed some of the sleep grime from it. I remember, he did feel a little off this day. I had wondered why, at least now I can find out. He held his head again and rubbed his temples. The alarm started to go off in the room. He rushed out and turned it off, then looked at... me. It was weird, but comfortable, I don't know. He looked for a moment and heard me say something, I couldn't quite catch it. "I know honey." he said.
He went about his morning, going to the pool on the first floor for a bit. Right as he entered the water I got a little anxious because I do not like to swim, in fact I am terrified of drowning. He rubbed his arms almost in reaction to my feelings, but it was a little chilly in the pool area. After swimming a few laps, he dried off and came upstairs back to our hotel room. I was awake now, and I remember now. Yeah, this part was always weird whenever I entered the life of someone in a relationship. We had sex, except I was having sex with, myself I don't know. i remember now though, he had acted funny during it, I had thought it was me but I felt wonderful. It was just strange dirty almost, I don't know, but it made me kind of sick how much I liked me.
The rest of the day went as I had remembered it, with Tom complaining of a headache and just generally not his same cheery self. All day I thought it was me, but he never once showed me any less compassion through his eyes. What was it then? He went into the bathroom. I was already dressed for bed, waiting for him to return, so I could try to make him feel better then he did this morning. He looks into the mirror, right into his own eyes and said "Alice, can you get out of my head now?"
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Sleep, perchance to dream... But of course I would chance to dream about this man, tonight.
I had saved myself for this man. The man who had cold feet and left me at the alter crying twice with no one but our families to watch.
Now I stand here, just over his shoulder, like I had done every night since I was 14. It's never the same person, but it's always happened. This empathy link is no gift, it's a curse. How many relationships have I ended because I knew things I shouldn't know?
I've seen rape, murder, torture, and suffering so brutal I've become desensitized. There are secrets in my mind that could bring down nations or put me on a list I might never be free from.
But tonight all I see is him on his phone in this beautiful church. The pastor offered to do it for free since we had already paid him twice. Third shot's the charm right?
He's writing his vows 20 minutes before our marrige? He's always been a procrastinator, one of his idiosyncrasies that drives me crazy. I feel his fear, his apprehension, but I also feel his determination.
"Hey, man. You ready this time? Los Angeles is still open." His Best Man, Bobby, had returned from the chapel. "We can just go, now, Like we always talked about.
"Not today, Bobby. Not this time." The strapping Groom replied, confidently. "I have to do this."
"I know." Bobby nodded smiling and put his arm around him. "You need this."
"I'm sick of being a wild card. It's time I settled down." He said quietly. "You remember that night in Denver?"
"Yeah. Of course. Candy and Michelle." Bobby's face became sullen. "Are you wanting to run to Denver instead?"
"No. But that night I realized I love Alice." He said.
"Did you not know before?" Bobby said, they were practically whispering.
"I don't know. I did, but I didn't know whether or not I was ready to settle down." He said.
"Well, you missed out." Bobby said laughing.
"On what? Syphilis? I'm thinking that's not so bad to miss out on."
"Man, those girls were crazy. Syphilis goes away. Memories stay forever!" Bobby laughed and went for a High Five, which went unreturned.
"I'm not gonna High Five that, Bobby." He turned and began fitting his tie.
"What about that other night?" Bobby said coming closer.
The groom looked down and for a moment seemed sad. Why is he sad?
"You know, that happened once." The groom explained and he turned to face Bobby. "You're my best friend. We were drunk, I wasn't thinking straight."
"I know. Does she know?" Bobby asked.
"No. She doesn't." The groom said.
"Good. I don't want anything to ruin this for either of you." Bobby said smiling. "It's time."
They're leaving, and I'm forced to follow. However, there on the tiny counter sat his vows. He's so forgettful, another idiosyncrasy.
But he never returned for them. I didn't need to see more. I knew then and there I'd be with Nathan forever. Afterall, he didn't need to write his vows.
He already knew what he wanted to say.
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[WP] A horror videogame that allows the user to actually feel like he/she is in the game.
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Your eyes narrow and focus on the heading. "A horror videogame that allows the user to actually feel like he/she is in the game."
Your eyebrow raises slightly, and you click on the link. You scroll down, looking for an interesting story to read. Before you start reading, you hear a quiet noise behind you. You cast a quick glance over your shoulder. You're alone. Of course you're alone.
Your attention turns back to the screen, as you scroll down slightly. As you're a fan of scary movies in general, at least one of these stories should be good. Something grazes your ear. You involuntarily inhale sharply, as you pull to the left. Nothing's there.
Silence.
You stand up now, slightly concerned. You hold your breath and pause, quietly looking around the room. Your teeth clench. You start to feel a terrifying sense of foreboding. You're in your room. It's the same room... but somehow it's different. Different how? It's impossible to tell.
Your heart starts beating faster. You unsuccessfully try to quiet a building sense of panic. You try to tell yourself to sit back down. Nothing is here. This isn't some movie, you're at home, in your room, with your PC.
Some primal instinct inside you is preventing you from sitting down. You suddenly feel a sharp pain in your foot. There's a loud noise above you. You look up just in time to catch a glint of the 2 foot long steel sickle arcing towards your neck. You hear the thud as it buries into your neck, more so than feel it.
The room goes white.
Shapes, sounds, colours. You blink rapidly, and look around in a panic. Muffled words.
"What.." you stammer, struggling to grasp the meaning.
"Dude, you didn't even make it past the first level. When you hear the first noise, you should have run and locked yourself in the bathroom. There's a weapon in the cabinet."
Reality floods back, as you breath a sigh of desperate relief.
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The claws dragged her down the dark hallway, their cold grasp twisting her ankle. Jane scrambled, trying to hold on the cracks of the stone floor, but her wounded fingers would give, again and again. They were moving faster.
"No! Let me go! Fuckfuckfuck..." she shouted. The smell of rotting stench surrounded her, they were close to the creature's nest. She kicked its claw and kicked again, but it just snarled. Her gun had fallen a long time ago, out of bullets. Dark smears appeared on the path, dried blood from their old victims. The creature dived into a hole in the floor, pulling her to the unknown. She struggled and held onto the ledge, putting all the strength she had left on her hurt fingers. She closed her eyes, taken by the fear of what awaited her, she couldn't let go.
But the creature pulled more fiercely. Her ankle broke and Jane screamed, the pain weakened her grip and she fell into the darkness.
The piercing agony ravaging her leg woke her up. Only then she realized the pain on her skull, and that she must have been unconscious. The creature rended the flesh of her leg, and she forgot her thoughts to the pain. The walls of flesh gave off a sickly glow and a glance showed her the exposed bone of what was left of her leg and the blood flowing. Her glanced turned to the creature, only to see the huge claws punching through her eyes and skull.
«Death has taken you,» the words floated through red, «Try again?»
Jane threw the visor across the room, and stomped the console into pieces. It took a moment until she realized there was no pain, and she was fine, in her room. It had been just a game, hadn't it? Her eyes moved to the shadows of the dimly lit living room. Did they move? She wasn't sure.
Still shaking, she moved to the light switch, peeking around the corners as she made her way to her bedroom, lighting all the way behind her. Jane dug through the drawer finding the revolver she kept there. Her shaky hands fumbled to load it.
She huddled on a corner and there she stayed, holding her gun. She wouldn't sleep so soon, she didn't knew if the creatures could come after her, but she wouldn't give them the chance to find her.
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Write a story that gives a piece of garbage a history. It can include the tragic events to it being tossed aside into the trash or be complete fiction. I just want to hop on the feel train for something no one cares about.
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[WP] Make me have the feels about a piece of garbage in your trash.
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One eye missing, it stares through the rest of the debris and detritus of the morning. Damp coffee grounds stain the exposed stuffing of one ragged arm.
The little plush monkey is beyond repair, battered; beaten.
 
I picture it in his arms.
My son has carried it everywhere for five years. It went with him on his first day of preschool, and he's worried that he won't be able to bring it for his first day of kindergarten.
I promise him he can bring another toy.
 
I picture it in his arms.
The last time I had to repair it, the needle ripped through the worn fabric, causing further damage. I knew then that this would be the last time.
The summer he turned three, he needed surgery. I couldn't come into the operating room, but they let him bring Mummy. He'd named it Mummy long ago, unable to say "monkey" properly. He clutched it to his chest, tears in his eyes, screaming for me, crying for me. He looked so tiny, so fragile in his thin little hospital gown.
 
I picture it in his arms.
When he was two years old, he claimed Mummy for his own. Reluctantly, I pulled it down from the shelf, placing it into his care. I thought that would be the last time I had to let go of Mummy.
I'd nearly lost it once. The bills came fast and heavy the year he was born, and the money stopped coming in. With a choice between food for my growing baby, or paying the rent, I lost my home. In a fit of rage, the landlord carted all of our possessions to the dumpster.
I dove in, for Mummy.
 
I picture it in his arms.
The glint in his eye, that last day before deployment.
"I know it's not Valentine's day," he said, pulling his arms from behind his back. The plush monkey looked silly then, overstuffed, fat, in red shorts covered with little white hearts. He pressed a button and it played "Wild Thing", in a tinny, low quality recording.
He hugged it, kissed its stuffed head and held it out to me. "Something to keep you company."
I rubbed my growing belly, feeling the new life growing there. "I have you," I say. "And the baby."
 
I stand over the trash, ready to scrape the plates from our light lunch, and I stare at Mummy. The last piece of him I had.
I picture it in his arms.
Then I look at my son, and I know I will be okay.
 
---
####
new year's challenge:
-092
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It was something he had never thought he'd have. She had picked it out for him. Although his friends teased him about it, he was secretly proud that he'd kept his for so long.
Over time it became worn with much love and care. It's luster was undiminished, but seemed to become deeper, and richer with time. It saw him through some dark times, times when he thought they wouldn't make it. He would touch it then, caressing it gently, remembering better times.
That was before he found her sleeping with his best friend. Now, every time he looked at it, he thought of them in bed together. It burned him to even touch it. Today, he tossed it in the trash.
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Write a story that gives a piece of garbage a history. It can include the tragic events to it being tossed aside into the trash or be complete fiction. I just want to hop on the feel train for something no one cares about.
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[WP] Make me have the feels about a piece of garbage in your trash.
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One eye missing, it stares through the rest of the debris and detritus of the morning. Damp coffee grounds stain the exposed stuffing of one ragged arm.
The little plush monkey is beyond repair, battered; beaten.
 
I picture it in his arms.
My son has carried it everywhere for five years. It went with him on his first day of preschool, and he's worried that he won't be able to bring it for his first day of kindergarten.
I promise him he can bring another toy.
 
I picture it in his arms.
The last time I had to repair it, the needle ripped through the worn fabric, causing further damage. I knew then that this would be the last time.
The summer he turned three, he needed surgery. I couldn't come into the operating room, but they let him bring Mummy. He'd named it Mummy long ago, unable to say "monkey" properly. He clutched it to his chest, tears in his eyes, screaming for me, crying for me. He looked so tiny, so fragile in his thin little hospital gown.
 
I picture it in his arms.
When he was two years old, he claimed Mummy for his own. Reluctantly, I pulled it down from the shelf, placing it into his care. I thought that would be the last time I had to let go of Mummy.
I'd nearly lost it once. The bills came fast and heavy the year he was born, and the money stopped coming in. With a choice between food for my growing baby, or paying the rent, I lost my home. In a fit of rage, the landlord carted all of our possessions to the dumpster.
I dove in, for Mummy.
 
I picture it in his arms.
The glint in his eye, that last day before deployment.
"I know it's not Valentine's day," he said, pulling his arms from behind his back. The plush monkey looked silly then, overstuffed, fat, in red shorts covered with little white hearts. He pressed a button and it played "Wild Thing", in a tinny, low quality recording.
He hugged it, kissed its stuffed head and held it out to me. "Something to keep you company."
I rubbed my growing belly, feeling the new life growing there. "I have you," I say. "And the baby."
 
I stand over the trash, ready to scrape the plates from our light lunch, and I stare at Mummy. The last piece of him I had.
I picture it in his arms.
Then I look at my son, and I know I will be okay.
 
---
####
new year's challenge:
-092
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Seven floral bandanas at the bottom of the bag.
The housekeeper apologized to the man and left.
The man apologized to an empty house and stayed.
One carton of cigarettes at the bottom of the bag.
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Write a story that gives a piece of garbage a history. It can include the tragic events to it being tossed aside into the trash or be complete fiction. I just want to hop on the feel train for something no one cares about.
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[WP] Make me have the feels about a piece of garbage in your trash.
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One eye missing, it stares through the rest of the debris and detritus of the morning. Damp coffee grounds stain the exposed stuffing of one ragged arm.
The little plush monkey is beyond repair, battered; beaten.
 
I picture it in his arms.
My son has carried it everywhere for five years. It went with him on his first day of preschool, and he's worried that he won't be able to bring it for his first day of kindergarten.
I promise him he can bring another toy.
 
I picture it in his arms.
The last time I had to repair it, the needle ripped through the worn fabric, causing further damage. I knew then that this would be the last time.
The summer he turned three, he needed surgery. I couldn't come into the operating room, but they let him bring Mummy. He'd named it Mummy long ago, unable to say "monkey" properly. He clutched it to his chest, tears in his eyes, screaming for me, crying for me. He looked so tiny, so fragile in his thin little hospital gown.
 
I picture it in his arms.
When he was two years old, he claimed Mummy for his own. Reluctantly, I pulled it down from the shelf, placing it into his care. I thought that would be the last time I had to let go of Mummy.
I'd nearly lost it once. The bills came fast and heavy the year he was born, and the money stopped coming in. With a choice between food for my growing baby, or paying the rent, I lost my home. In a fit of rage, the landlord carted all of our possessions to the dumpster.
I dove in, for Mummy.
 
I picture it in his arms.
The glint in his eye, that last day before deployment.
"I know it's not Valentine's day," he said, pulling his arms from behind his back. The plush monkey looked silly then, overstuffed, fat, in red shorts covered with little white hearts. He pressed a button and it played "Wild Thing", in a tinny, low quality recording.
He hugged it, kissed its stuffed head and held it out to me. "Something to keep you company."
I rubbed my growing belly, feeling the new life growing there. "I have you," I say. "And the baby."
 
I stand over the trash, ready to scrape the plates from our light lunch, and I stare at Mummy. The last piece of him I had.
I picture it in his arms.
Then I look at my son, and I know I will be okay.
 
---
####
new year's challenge:
-092
|
What merriment have I seen, what joy! Grand battles, triumphant victories, the conclusions of adventures over land and sea. I was his vassal, his wish was my command. Every order I obeyed, every enemy I helped to slay, all in the name of happiness and glee! For years we together, conquered all before us. A duo, dynamic, and happy were we.
To me,he would turn, with tears in his eyes. I would show him the hero that he could be. His gawkiness, I turned to grace. His fears were forgotten. An ocean of self loathing was now a confident sea.
Now years beyond those times of bliss, the dog did grab upon my stick, and chew away the comforting nub. Sharp plastic is left to poke, puncture, and wound.
My time is over, the best is behind me. He notices the damage and sadly examines, the decay to a relic of elation once felt. At least he'll hold me one last time, before I'm dumped with the grease and grime.
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Write a story that gives a piece of garbage a history. It can include the tragic events to it being tossed aside into the trash or be complete fiction. I just want to hop on the feel train for something no one cares about.
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[WP] Make me have the feels about a piece of garbage in your trash.
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Two lines on a stick that smelled faintly of urine. There'd been twenty of these to grace the bin over the past four months.
He held her while she sobbed.
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Shiny. Beautiful. Powerful. Anyone who entered the Firuzu's home was greeted by the beautiful samuari sword passed down for countless generations. It was said to have been used in countless, nameless wars, so the tales spoke of, and brought more honor to the family than any other item could.
It was said to have been held by Saigo Takamori and Kusunoki Masashige themselves, as well as Miyamoto Musashi, despite, as many had pointed out, the blade being crafted in the wrong century for him to have held it. To say it was honorary is an understatement, as the blade was more important than any other possession the Firuzus and any of their neighbors could have even imagined.
Today was its 150th birthday; it was created in 1795.
As the slow, gradual reconstruction was taking place, Mr. Kanashimi picked up some useless pieces of metal and put them into his bag.
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Write a story that gives a piece of garbage a history. It can include the tragic events to it being tossed aside into the trash or be complete fiction. I just want to hop on the feel train for something no one cares about.
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[WP] Make me have the feels about a piece of garbage in your trash.
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Two lines on a stick that smelled faintly of urine. There'd been twenty of these to grace the bin over the past four months.
He held her while she sobbed.
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It got broken during the move. Something heavy had fallen on it and broken Batman's head off. It wasn't just a regular batman, it was dekuxe batman with grappling hook action. I told him I had lost it. I searched on ebay. Unfortunately, it was a rare one, lowest price was $350 for one with more damage then my son's. I searched for days, then weeks. I asked everyone I knew if they could fix it. But it was too late, the pieces wouldn't fit anymore. Eventually I had to face the truth.
Looking at my son, I could see him start to move on. For him, it'd eventually become a sad memory that was one of the first times he experienced loss. For me, it'd be one of the first times I failed my son. It may seem silly, it may seem inconsequential in the long run, but that first time, it changes everything.
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Write a story that gives a piece of garbage a history. It can include the tragic events to it being tossed aside into the trash or be complete fiction. I just want to hop on the feel train for something no one cares about.
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[WP] Make me have the feels about a piece of garbage in your trash.
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Two lines on a stick that smelled faintly of urine. There'd been twenty of these to grace the bin over the past four months.
He held her while she sobbed.
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I wore this dress when I graduated from college. The robe covered it, but I knew it was there. Everybody keeps their robes on after graduation; it's a way of showing off. The whole family went out to dinner, and I wore the robe proudly. I was proud of the dress, too, but no one else knew about that.
After graduating, I didn't buy another dress for years. Being true to myself didn't seem as important as finding a job, as holding a job in a bad economy, in not alienating my boss and my coworkers and the family members whose Christmas checks were still like lifelines to me. Sometimes I wore my graduation dress at home, but only late at night. Only when I knew no one was likely to drop in unexpectedly.
I gained weight, with my sedentary desk job and lack of a complementary on-campus gym. Eventually I put the dress on and it ripped when I tried to do up the zipper. I thought that maybe I could get it fixed, but I was never brave enough to take it in and face the clerk. I knew he'd assume I was doing it for a wife or a girlfriend but somehow knowing that just made me feel worse.
A few days later I bought another dress, similar in style but a couple of sizes bigger. I couldn't even get that one over my head. Some Googling revealed that women's sizes are remarkably inconsistent. I was terrified to return it, but when I made a crack about being unable to parse women's clothing sizes, the customer service dude laughed sympathetically.
They gave me store credit, but it only lasted for 90 days. And today, on the 89th day, I finally used it. My measurements were written out on a piece of paper and, with a couple of shirts and a pair of slacks as camouflage, I took my new dress into the dressing room to try it on.
I don't know if I'll ever be brave enough to wear it in front of someone. But I feel so much more at ease now than I have since I ripped the old one.
That dress got me through a lot of tough times, but I don't need it anymore.
I just wonder if anyone else will see the new one before it becomes a piece of garbage, too.
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[WP] Say something educated, but say it in a dumb way.
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No one thinks it is like it be but it do.
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you see sonny jim, that table youse resting yer elbows on...its hard, firm as a rock...but then you look at them there beams of light pouring in all warm and thick like my momma's butter milk batter- they be the same things! I'm tell ya'll. Matter and Enegy ...two sides of the same coin. Ones just vibrating slow then da otha'r
Just like that butter milk was going to eventually become pankcakes ..or a biscuit ...the same things happen all around ar Uni-verse.
Mattuh and Enegy ..Mista Einstein proved that, that he did ..with that der formula Eee eckwals M see Sqwart.
Now my Daddy wuznt a smat man but he learned me real good on the lawz of nature. Told me about up and down and how everything is connected due to Space Time cuz light and gravety be connected like a farmer is connected to the soil ..without one or the other you can't get a harvest.
Wez learned men...we don't need no gods holding up this or knocking down that ...gravety, light, adams, dem the builden blocks of existence.
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[WP] Say something educated, but say it in a dumb way.
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So, like, you know how there's that thing around a black hole? You know, where you turn into spaghetti and stuff? Well, I read a thing the other day that said that's what we live in, but like all fourth dimensional and stuff. Like, our universe is all the stuff that you would find on the spaghetti layer of a black hole, but the black hole is one dimension bigger than our universe. Oh my god! That might mean that there are little stick figure universes all around our black holes! How cute!
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Man, every stupid ass artist started with doodles and shit. You think if you quit every time some retard said you should, you'd ever get anywhere? Fuck that, I bet that Mozart dude didn't even get some of his crap on his momma's fridge. Now he's out there inventing the lightbulb and painting that chapel in Italy or something.
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[WP] Say something educated, but say it in a dumb way.
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No one thinks it is like it be but it do.
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Man, every stupid ass artist started with doodles and shit. You think if you quit every time some retard said you should, you'd ever get anywhere? Fuck that, I bet that Mozart dude didn't even get some of his crap on his momma's fridge. Now he's out there inventing the lightbulb and painting that chapel in Italy or something.
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[WP] Say something educated, but say it in a dumb way.
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My ni*gga Schrödinger said he wasn't sure if the pussy was going to be there when he rolled through to her crib.
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Man, every stupid ass artist started with doodles and shit. You think if you quit every time some retard said you should, you'd ever get anywhere? Fuck that, I bet that Mozart dude didn't even get some of his crap on his momma's fridge. Now he's out there inventing the lightbulb and painting that chapel in Italy or something.
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