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by MD
When I left
the Lego Factory, I was dismayed. I had
no choice. That was the expression the
factory workers had chosen for me.
Believe me, it was hard to find work with a face like mine! Finally, someone took a chance and hired me
to work with computers -- an apt enough application, I suppose, based upon the
reputation of computers and the expression on my face which so well suited the
job.
I didn’t know
how to deal with it, however, when one day, one of the human workers in the
computer lab surreptitiously squeezed me into his pocket and carted me to his
home, to be added to his three-year old’s collection of Lego figures. So there I found myself, mingled with a crowd
of Darth Vaders, Minions, Builder Bobs, and Dragon Slayer figurines. Not a pleasant group to attempt to join, and
for the most part, they were a bunch of elitist bullies. Although I did my best, once again, the
expression on my face doomed me to outsider status.
In the
meantime, as I understood from conversations I overheard from by kidnapper and
his three year old son -- named Jargon, of all things, what parent names their
kid Jargon? -- I was missed at the computer lab. Apparently, I had been destined for a job as
an overseer for disgruntled workers as they dealt with the frustrations of
computer glitches, but my absence from the plant meant that someone else got
the job. (I think it was a Picachu
clone.) So I was left chagrined again. It was hard not to suppose that perhaps the
fixed expression on my face was indeed some kind of karma. For me, though, the bottom line was that I
would have gotten the promotion, but my attendance wasn’t good enough.
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Every
day Lucinda wore fake nails, false eyelashes, and hair extensions
By RC
Every
day, Lucinda wore fake nails, false eyelashes, and hair extensions. This was
just who she was, so to speak. And if she wore anything else that what fake, I
was not aware of it. Lucinda was one of those extravagant personalities, and
that alone had gotten her a ways in her acting career, but she seemed to have
hit a plateau somewhere along the line. People started turning off to her, and
that was no big deal to Lucinda, but when producers and directors turned her
away—well, Lucinda was at her wit’s end what to do about it.
Lucinda
had a rich uncle though, who really liked her. When he passed away, she got a
few things from him. One of them, strangely enough, was his BMW luxury
car—really, a dragster in drag. She had always admired it in his driveway when
she had come to visit, which was frequently.
“Well,
this is a strange turn of events,” Lucinda muttered as she took the keys to the
car from her uncle’s estate manager. It so happened that she was on her way to
an audition for a scary movie. This was not the type of thing which she would
normally have auditioned for, but Lucinda was desperate. She did have the right
name for it, after all. She left her old, beat up Audi in the driveway and took
off in the roadster—luxury car, whatever it was.
Lucinda
was not, of course, ready for this vehicle. She thought later that she had
barely touched the accelerator, and yet the acceleration was—well—breathless.
When she got to the studio she did not look in the mirror first, she was too
frazzled and wanted to get to the ladies room. But she did notice that her
nails were gone. The director of the movie just happened to be coming out of
the men’s when she came up and he took one look at her and stopped.
“Oh,
perfect, Lucinda. Absolutely smashing and brilliant! You’ve got the part.”
Needless
to say Lucinda was very pleased, even after she saw herself in the bathroom
mirror and passed out. From then on, she discarded everything that was fake.
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By CC
She called him before work, but he didn’t answer. She left
messages at his job, but he never replied. She wrote him a long letter, but he
didn’t read it.
Tilda cradled her head in her hands. All might be lost
despite her best efforts. Her daughter would never have the chance to marry
again. She would have to go to him in person to plead her case.
She flung her cape around her shoulders and walked out into
the frosty morning. St. Petersburg was lovely in January. She had her ice
carriage brought around. Such a beautiful carriage would impress him.
Halfway to his dacha, the sun came out. The ice carriage
glittered in the sudden flare of light. Water began to trickle down the sides
of her carriage.
Oh, no, thought Tilda, who had been so worried about her
daughter she had not bothered to check the weather report. Quickly the ice
carriage melted into a puddle and Tilda found herself standing on a muddy track
in the deep forest.
A peasant cart creaked up behind her. A man sat on a rough
wooden seat; the cart was filled with potatoes. He offered her a ride to the
dacha. Tilda was mortified, but she could not stay out in the forest all night.
She climbed up to the seat, and in another hour the man drove into the
courtyard of the dacha and she climbed down.
His dacha was empty, deserted. She wandered from room to room, aghast. He
had run away from them. Her daughter would never marry. She, Tilda, would be
stuck with her in the house forever. Tilda stomped around angrily then went
back outside.
The sun was low in the sky now. She might as well stay
overnight. During the night she was cold and hungry, but safe from wolves. The
next day she dug around in the pantry and found some old onions and potatoes.
Outside, stray hens left eggs for her breakfast. Pretty soon she had made the
house comfortable. She decided it might be time for a country vacation.
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by TNT
The architect named Ricardo B. designed the low-income housing next to the dam. That was a mistake - although the housing apartments were sturdy, they couldn't quite survive a tsunami. Ricardo worked in an office on the hillside above. He watched in horror as the apartments he designed for the working class people and their families were destroyed. Now he regretted his accomplishments. When his boss refused to allow him to quit in his despondency Ricardo often went to work drunk. He hoped to be fired.
He felt himself to blame because the location of those apartments had belonged to his brother-in-law who made a fortune selling the land - then re-building.