I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "There'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead. I am out of food, out of electricity power for the radio, and abandonded in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness. I do not know how or what happened that led up to the plane crash all I know is that I managed to survive two weeks on the scraps I found in the plane and a nearby pond. This is my last statement to the world if anyone finds this, I am going to travel north...
Once upon a time in a bright, little forrest,
there were three Elves named Jimmie, Bob and Horace.
Jimmie was an arsonist, Bob was a drug lord,
and Horace killed hookers with an old VCR-cord.
They went into prison but just now they broke out,
"Each take a hostage and run to the river!", Bob shouts.
They stole a get-a-way boat to cross the stream,
when Bob decided to work against the team.
He killed two hostages and shot Jimmie in the leg,
So Horace had to put a bullet in Bob's head.
"My leg hurts like a bitch!", Jimmie...
So I wanted to go to Europe over the summer. I installed some security cameras in my house, because safety, you know. When I fast forwarded through some tapes, I noticed that the goldfish glas was slowly moving. I took some of the other cameras, so that I had extra angles of that goldfish glas. That night, my TV was stolen, while I was asleep in my bedroom. They broke in, stole my TV and all I could see was that goldfish. But that doesn't matter, because my goldfish is awesome. It is the best pet one could ever have....
The lamp wouldn't turn on. I was going to have to help deliver a baby in pitch darkness. With the elevator stuck between floors there was no point in wishing I was elsewhere, rehashing all my steps today that got me into this place, at this time. Yet, this is exactly what I did, in between asking the mother how much time between contractions and holding her hand, speaking calmly and rubbing her back.
First my alarm didn't go off this morning so I was late, then dropped hot coffee over the new rug in the living room, follolwed by...
The daring were punished.
It seemed almost contradictory, but that was how They wanted it. Ever since the capital-t-They had taken over it, a systematic reduction of risk-taking had been put into place, until the daring were trained not to dare, the mavericks removed and replaced with the mundane.
My sister Joan had wanted to be a baker. You would think that was sufficiently uninteresting for Them, but you'd be wrong - I have no idea how They found out, but after a few bottles of wine at my house, she told me her dream of opening her own bakery....
I hated the wallpaper on my phone. For some reason it just appeared overnight even though no trace was found in the files or folders. Nothing I tried would delete the darn thing. Where had it come from and why?
Josie, an amateur feng shui expert made several suggestions but I didn't believe that kind of rubbish. Strangely enough my phone went wrong, you know where all you get is that SOS Emergency screen but you can't access your numbers or do anything else with it. Yet every couple of seconds, the fish appeared again. It was doing my head...
Trivia. They say Native Americans, and other native people of the World, believed photographs stole their soul, the marrow of their being. It comes up a lot in clever White people films and books, when they want to show Savages and Locals as ignorant and superstitious.
Actually, it is probably more true of the early photographers themselves, breathing Mercury fumes, day in day out, in producing their metal plate dageurotypes. The toxin building up, destroying the marrow in their bones, until they quickly faded as much in Life and Strength as their pictures eventually did. Easy pickings they were.
I...
She was the most delicate girl in town. But looks could be deceptive. Ruth knew he was somewhere in the house. Unfamiliar surroundings would make it difficult for easy location of prey, but that wouldn't delay the inevitable. She was as confident as she could be that no help would come. The old place was too isolated; one of its charms. Ironically, it was what had attracted her to the place. The appeal of sole occupation. Nothing to disturb her work.
Fortunately, she'd made it to the Kitchen and its drawers of sharp, clean, very clean knives. Ms. (note the...
1943
(19:43 to be exact, but the : had given up life years ago)
30 oC
1943
29 oC
1944
The red LEDs blinked their cycling transmission of temperature and time. Next to a pealing sticker announcing "Efe Tur" as the owner of this otobüs, no doubt more faded by continuous display, was our destination, Esenler, the second step to Istanbul and Atatürk Airport. Where check in had started already. If by some miracle, time could be made up, more steps would lead home, many hours later.
The journey to Izmit had been more enjoyable, as this one was an...
Last time I saw Gloria Metcalf she was standing by the trees looking at the gravestone of her child.
I had a premonition something was going to happen but dismissed it.
Gloria disappeared moments later and I couldn't see any trace of her which I thought strange, normally I would see the back of her as she slowly walked down the path towards the gate.
So you can imagine the shock when I heard the evening news that day and realised that at the time I saw her, she had already been dead for about six hours. Suicide.
I decided...