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by GS
The hotel had advertised itself as the most remote locale in the Alps, and when they arrived it appeared that had been no lie. A huge edifice with multiple towers sat snuggled in a small valley below some of the tallest peaks in the chain. It looked imposing with walls and towers designed to repel invaders easily, which may have been needed when it was built in 1580. Jean and Marla were escorted to their room via numerous hallways and staircases so they had no hope of ever returning to the lobby. Marla was quite adventurous and insisted on an exploratory walk to see the views from the highest tower, but Jean was reluctant to leave the safety of their room. Marla departed in a huff and was gone for hours so Jean worriedly decided to search for her, starting with the tallest tower. Just as it was getting dark, she found Marla balanced on top of the tower's spine, meditating and oblivious to everything except the tall mountains she faced. Jean demanded that Marla climb down immediately, but was ignored. Jean and Marla had been close for decades but this was enough to end their long friendship. Jean quietly climbed up behind Marla and pushed her just hard enough to send her to her death hundreds of feet down on the marble walkway. So much for friendship!
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by RC
The town of Lomita,
Kansas had never really been “on the map”, so to speak, but the coming of the
gigantic sculpture, had kind of reversed that a little. After all, where in
America was there the like? It was composed of seven great, reflective spheres
suspended in the air high above the town in a hexagonal form with the largest
sphere in the center of them all—kind of like the center hub of a spoked wheel.
As I said, this attraction put Lomita on the map; tourists now came from all
over to stand and gawk at it.
“What does it do?” they
usually asked first. And then, “Does it rotate?” “Can we go up in it?” All the
usual questions. But the sculpture actually did nothing, but stand there
looking beautiful and reflecting the trees and pavement below—including the
people—on its glorious silver surfaces. That alone was pretty cool.
Leonardo Williams was
the architect responsible for the sculpture, which he called “Living Art”,
presumably because the spheres reflected a somewhat different scene any time
one looked at them. Leonardo was very proud of his creation, which had taken
several years to construct and had been way over budget. In fact, it had
drained the meager coffer of the town. Many thought that the tourist business
didn’t justify the extravagance. Of course, this just irritated Leonardo. He
wasn’t a likeable guy, anyway. Leonardo snubbed his neighbors for many years
until he shot himself, which made them feel a little better. The fact that he
climbed to the very top of the structure—although how he did it was a
mystery—actually made it better. He had planted someone on the ground to take a
photo. He always had been a publicity hound.
Now, little Lomita got
even more tourists, who came to see the marvelous shiny “wheel”, which didn’t
turn—but where the eccentric creator had shot himself. Yes, Leonardo’s
neighbors were happy with the outcome.
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by TNT
He preferred leather bags to fabric or vinyl, but the cost was prohibitive. The trip cost money that he couldn't afford. But he knew he had to go. He had to find out if his father had left him any inheritance - he and his father had not been on good terms.
It will probably be humiliating, he thought. His sister and her husband would probably get everything from his father - and they were already wealthy. His brother in law was a well-connected lawyer. His sister was a doctor. Their children were grown and had careers of their own. He'd have preferred a leather bag in order to look more prosperous himself. But - oh, well. It was too late for that now.
While lost in his thoughts, a semi truck shifted into his lane. The driver didn't notice his little Honda. The crash happened so fast it startled him. Before he could recover from his surprise, he was above his body, looking down on a gruesome sight - a bloody corpse that he didn't recognize as himself. Yuck, he thought.
He looked at the road ahead. It seemed to continue into the clouds now. He wondered if he would meet his father wherever he was going. And the leather bag didn't matter at all anymore.
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"Little birds tumbled through the air as the storm front approached with gusty winds."
by MD
“Pull harder!” the desert sheik urged. “This arid land must yield to our efforts to plow.” He glanced up at the sky. Little birds tumbled through the air as the storm front approached with gusty winds.
“These
blasted oxen don’t want to move. How
will we ever dig our irrigation trench before the storm arrives?” the laborer
panted.
It was
the fault of modern man. Climate change
had turned all the farm fields into barren desert. Mankind had been warned since the early turn
of the century, but refused to heed the cautionary advice.
The two
men struggled with the reluctant animals.
Even the festive tassels on the oxen’s heads failed to lighten the mood
-- they only served as weathervanes, advising of the wind speed and direction.
Thus,
the year 2025 ended in St. Louis Missouri with famine, pestilence and fighting
between the territorial warlords. Even
the little birds had abandoned the area.
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by CC
The women had been walking up and down the enclosure's stairs for
many months, sleeping in the doorless alcoves, catching fish from the pond
which baked on the steps while they siested, swimming in the pool in the cool
of the evening. It was a dismal life but at least they could stay fit, and they
took pride in their strong physiques, though all they had to wear were
voluminous gowns that at least kept the midday sun at bay.
One day a child emerged from the pond, stood up in the
shallow end and, looking at them incredulously, said “Who are you.”
One of the women, who had just finished trotting down the
stairs, looked at him and said, “We are the Varanasi All Stars Swimming and
Hiking club, isn’t that obvious? We might as well ask who are you?”
The child detected a note of sarcasm. They all looked
drained and tired and bored. He glanced around the enclosure and realized there
were no doors. So that was their problem!
“You can swim right out, you know,” he said to them.
“That’s how I got in. There’s a canal that opens into a pond out there. It’s
not deep.” Then he submerged and disappeared.
The woman at the bottom of the stairs looked up at her
friends. They shook their heads in disbelief. “That was a hallucination, Amy,”
said Charmaine. “I have another hallucination for you.” Suddenly the woman
ripped open her gown and revealed that she was a man. Amy was shocked beyond
words. How had she never realized Charmaine was a Charles?
But she believed the child, he didn’t. She stepped into
the pool.
Later, after she had gotten out the other side and relaxed
on the grassy meadow by the pond for an hour, her optimism returned and got up
to walk to town.
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by RMAF
Little Caeser Aristotle Guadalupe the Fourth was feeling his oats this morning, so he decided to show his parents how he could help with breakfast. Before his parents woke, he got out his father's Samurai sword and began tossing apples and oranges into the air. Then, as they came falling down, he precisely cut each one in half. Swish! Swish! Swish! Already at one year old Little Caesar Aristotle Guadalupe the Fourth envisioned himself as a little man with a big sword on a big mission.
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by CG
Man Time
Mike had
been gone a lot. Too much, Shiela
thought, and she began to wonder what he was up to.
“I’m
heading out, She—“ he would grunt every Friday night, grabbing his
muddy
boots, fishing pole, hat, and faded tackle box.
“But you
just got home! Why don’t you leave
tomorrow?”
“The
walleye aren’t going to sleep in, She.
I’ve got to get to Alan’s tonight so
that we
can be up early. Besides, I need a
little ‘man time’.”
“No!” She stood in the doorway as he shrugged his
jacket on. “Listen, Mister,” she
lectured. “If you want to go fishing
every weekend, then I’m going shopping every weekend.”
“Fine,
never said you couldn’t,” He
muttered. And with that, he nudged past
her and made his way to his beat-up Chevy.
Every
Friday, it was like that. She would beg
him to stay, and he would insist that he needed his “man time.” Was he starting to get bored with her? What was happening to their marriage? Was he gambling? Was he secretly seeing
another woman? Their finances were
getting low, and she didn’t know where the money was going.
Today was
different. She was going to find out
what was going on. As he drove off, she
quietly crept into her ford focus and turned the key. With headlights off, she slowly inched around
the corner, letting him get a good distance from her. She followed him for 40 miles up the windy
highway 7 out of town. “Strange,” she
thought, “I don’t remember Alan living this far.” She stopped suddenly as Mike jerked hard left
down a dusty road past an old ranch. He
parked, and then walked another half mile down the road.
There, in
the distance, she could see a large group of men, all dressed in white, facing
west. There must have been thousands of
them, arms outstretched to the sky. The
men began to chant and sing a song “Hail goddess of retail, for you we
await!” The men then came together,
holding hands in a circle, humming a single pitch for two minutes. With a single, simultaneous shout, they clapped once, and then gathered in a
huddle. A man with a short white beard
and cowboy hat climbed to the top of a tower at the end of a field. “Here’s to a fabulous shopping trip,
gentlemen,” said the leader.
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