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by GS
Making doll clothing for a living is not a lucrative profession, at least not for custom-made individual orders. Maybe if I automated and sold large quantities at Toys "R" Us I could break even. For now, I am content to treat this as a hobby while fantasizing about other lines of work. I began to imagine myself at a quilting bee with a small group of talented women producing artistic wonders suitable for museum display. Can I make any money that way? I really doubt that it pays any better than custom doll clothes.
The day finally arrives when I cannot maintain my meager existence without a drastic overhaul. The idea hits me that there is good money in voodoo dolls, so I convert my two latest creations as pictured into zombie-like evil playthings and advertise them as such. It is an immediate success and I can now thrive with my new business. Who needs quilts, anyway!
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By CC
Brian’s book collection is massive and his apartment is
small. Brian thinks hard about his problem and decides to buy a boat. He’s
always wanted to live aboard, and a barge would be perfect. Of course the
humidity might be a problem for his library, but there has to be some way to
preserve his books.
So went Brian’s thinking on the day the world ended. He was
so engrossed in his problems that he did not look out the window of his small
apartment to see the edge of the world roll back. It hung there for a moment,
as ships – even a barge very like the one he had considered purchasing - began
to plunge into the void. Pretty soon the edge of the world continued its
progression into town; one moment Brian was counting his bookshelves and the
next he was tumbling, quite unexpectedly, towards his west wall. His last
thoughts were ones of surprise and dismay, until a volume of Peter Parley’s Universal History smacked
into the side of his head and he finally stopped worrying.
The edge of the world continued its steady progression until
it reached the other edge, then it became nervous at the thought of its own
extinction, and began to back away slowly. However nothing it had destroyed
came back from the void and it grew despondent at the desolation it had
wrought. Soon it gathered courage and resumed its lonely progression to extinction.
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https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/d/d3/Klamath-Paul-and-Babe.jpg
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It was a dangerous time to travel, but when was travel ever safe?
by BG
Paul and Blue had reservations about going to Comic-Con but they finally did - after flip-flopping back and forth about it - decide to make the journey. It would be a long trek since neither of them were able to take public transportation and neither had their own vehicle. They wished it was closer to home. They had to start as soon as spring thaw was over so they would make it to San Diego in time to be there in mid July.
They had been making really good time, traveling a lot at night, so they wouldn't be too conspicuous. It was a dangerous time to travel, but when was travel ever safe? They actually found they could take a day here and a day there to see a few sights. They managed to see the Corn Palace and Mt. Rushmore in South Dakota and they passed through Yellowstone too. Oh, how they loved the mountains but they were down in the desert now and were on high alert because dangers seemed to be more prevalent and true enough, when they got to Las Vegas, their journey went awry.
So many strange people, so many strange sites. They spent too much time sightseeing there, feeling quite at home among the odd array of unusually outsized attractions. And on the way out of town, they encountered a group of miniature people. Since they were so tiny they unfortunately let their guard down before discovering that these Lilliputian-sized folk were like wolves in pint-sized sheeps' clothing. They would not let them leave by turning them into stone.
Paul and Blue were sad they never made it to Comic-Con.
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By MD
She felt nauseous contemplating the situation; if only there
was a way out of it. The sisters had
planned their trip to the beach for months, sure that July would be the perfect
month for weather and water temperatures.
It was to be a sisters’ slumber party.
All were adults now, although their demeanors, and even their looks,
enabled them to pass as teenagers. Hence
the slumber party theme to the reunion.
When it started to rain, at first no one was disturbed. But it kept raining, day after day, and it
seemed the reunion would be a disaster.
The oldest sister, Margo, was planning on cancelling -- or at least
suggesting postponing, until the weather was better. Her stomach roiled at the prospect of calling
her siblings to suggest the cancellation, but there seemed no other way out.
To her surprise, both sisters demurred. “We’re going to do
this,” Millie said. “There may be no
other chance for all of us to be together like this again -- just us, just
here, just at this time in our lives.”
Marta agreed, and the gathering was confirmed.
Margo brought her umbrella, and, just as planned, the
sisters gathered, frolicked, laughed, and ran through the sand. The rain actually added to the fun.
The sisters failed to notice the young man who followed
behind them. He was pretending not to
stalk, but that was actually what he intended.
He’d never seen such a happy array of young women. He followed his impulse, left the surf, and
prepared his net to capture all three.
And so it was true -- his mission was accomplished, but so was the
sisters’. This gathering was indeed their
only chance to be together, just the three of them, just at that time in their
lives.
The triple funeral was a sad occasion -- especially because
the police failed to investigate all the attendees. Had they been alert, they would have noticed
the young man who lingered in the background, pretending to be sad, but
actually celebrating his accomplishments.
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He left his overheated office and walked home, enjoying the smell of a coming storm
by TT
He left his overheated office and walked home, enjoying the smell of a coming storm. He was so relieved to be free that he daydreamed himself into a wooded glen with a stream. He and his best friend Albert went to Montana last year and rode horses. He really enjoyed nature and began to feel too contained in the city, especially the work place and the cubicles at work.
That was when he decided. A moment's decision! He was going to quit his job and sub-lease the apartment. Then he would move to Montana or someplace with trees and streams. He'd get a hat and maybe even have a horse. Why not? It was his life. His wife and children had left him two years earlier. He drank too much and they were tee-totalling religious fanatics, anyhow.
At first he was lonely but now he reveled in his freedom. He smiled up at the rain that began to fall. The rain soaked his clothes, but he didn't care. It was wonderful.
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by RMAF
My house was in the desert with a lake nearby. I went to sleep one night after taking my evening walk in the sand. Something strange happened during the night. I dreamed I heard rushing water and big carp flopping all over my yard.
Silly dream, thought to myself as I put my feet down on the rug.
"Yikes!" I screamed as I put my bare feet onto the wet, soggy rug! I looked at my cat in her bed. She was wildly tackling a huge, flopping carp!
"What the heck is going on around here?" I looked into the mirror. Now is the time to completely re-evaluate all that we take for granted. That wasn't a dream. That was reality!
I scratched my head in disbelief.
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By RC
Rhonda and Donna didn’t
like the way things were going in their house. The parents always had some
scheme going for making lots of money and the other kids were always
cheating—at everything. They cheated at cards, they cheated doing their
homework and on their tests, etc. Rhonda and Donna knew this because of the way
they bragged about it. The parents, Donald and Marsha, often laid out on the
dining table a long line of stolen credit cards and licenses, along with razor
blades and orange slices.
Well, even though they
hadn’t been around long and didn’t have a lot of experience, Rhonda and Donna
knew that this was way wrong, and they suffered. They always worried that the
cops would break the door down one day and arrest everyone—maybe shoot someone.
Rhonda loved to have
Donna read to her—yes, although they were young, they had learned from
listening to the other kids. The stories they loved the most were from Aesop’s
Fables. They loved getting to the end of the story and reading Aesop’s moral.
They knew all about right and wrong and ethical and unethical conduct and, as
was said, they suffered. Every time there was a knock on the door, they hid
under the bed. One day Donna read a story with an unusual moral; it almost
sounded like one of those fortune cookie sayings that Donald was fond of
reading to everyone when they had Chinese food delivered.
It went: “Much
suffering comes from a lack of integrity.”
“Yes, that is
absolutely right,” Rhonda said with conviction. “And we’ve suffered long
enough!”
“What can we do?” Donna
asked.
“We can go to the
police station and report them,” Rhonda replied.
“But then, we won’t
have any home,” Donna said.
“Well, ‘Much suffering
comes from a lack of integrity,’ Rhonda reminded Donna. “We’re going to have
some integrity.”
“All right,” Donna
replied. I’m ready to suffer. Let’s go.”
And with that they waited for an
opportunity. As soon as the door was opened next, out they ran. But once on the
sidewalk they stopped, looked around warily, and Donna said “We’ve never been
out here before, Rhonda. We don’t know anything about the real world.”
And that was the end of
their effort to have integrity. After that, they didn’t suffer any more. They
helped make the fake I.D. cards.
