They had come up this mountain every wensday evening for the last three years, from the creation of there IOGT-lodge. The first one in this country and now there outdoor meetings was to come to an end. The lodge house was soon to be finished and there common soberity had a place to live
Indeed in a hundred years another generation will look at this photo and now the story some even beeing related to the heroic pioners of the movement.
How the small movement for soberity started in New York state now lived on and inspired so many generations...
It was hard to send a message in a bottle when you didn't even have the bottle.
Harry sighed as he put the folded bit of paper into the stream, hoping it would be carried to someone who would find him. Someone with better navigational skills than he had anyway. He couldn't even write his location, because he hadn't the slightest Goddamn idea where he was. GPS didn't do a hell of a lot of good with a dead phone, and if he hadn't slipped down that muddy slope...
Nevermind.
He rested along the stream's edge and looked up at...
the city was empty
winter empty, not
summer empty
snowstorm home-bound, not
bound for Myrtle Beach, or
flown to Florida or
wherever the hell
the neighbors went.
Christ, doesn't anyone stay
home anymore?
Sit on the deck in frayed nylon
beach chairs?
I can't even find them in
the stores anymore.
what happened?
where did everyone go?
it's the city...
it should
never
be
empty.
Penelope loved the fountain, loved the way the water sprayed, cooling her in the hot sun, making her clothes cling as she called her joy to the heavens.
"What are you doing?" asked the man in the blue uniform.
Some sort of park official, thought the girl. "Nothing. Just enjoying the water."
"This isn't a waterpark, you know," said the man, a note of disapproval hanging from his lips like a dangling cigar, ready to drop and burn.
"So?" she asked. She kicked up a fine spray as her feet pattered against the thin layer that had built up over...
Jane was a beautiful young woman. Her blonde hair was the envy of everyone in the land. No one else had hair like that. Many said it was the color of straw. Now her father, he was also a nice man. Very beloved by everyone and the leader of this village. He, however was dying. Jane was his only child and not ready to take on the duties that would be given to her if he died. She had been walking through the meadow one day when it struck her. She could get the elixer of Eternal Life and give...
"I never asked to be a hero," Fred screamed. "As a matter of fact, I was supposed to be the villain!" Fred grabbed Judy before Punch was able to stop him.
"Fred...what is your goal, what do you think you can accomplish by scaring Judy?" Punch asked calm as the dead wind that laid heavy against their skin.
"I want to obtain the Marionnettes. I want to be free to wake up and pull the strings of life without being looked at as someone who will save mankind," Fred said as he let go of Judy. His hands white with...
Until now she'd never thought of herself as pretty. The unique medication, DNA time capsule designed especially allowed her to change the life path to the days before the car accident with Tom, her fiancee. It allowed her to view herself in the mirror and see the luscious lips, high cheek bones, startling blue eyes and finally believe she was attractive.
Back in her youth, every pimple, blackhead, red nose was agony. Comparisons to tv stars the norm.
She hoped there wouldn't be any side effects as she crossed the road on the way to buy a new dress forgetting...
The girl looked up at her mother and said, "We're small."
It was sudden--so sudden that the mother looked down at her child in surprise. But then she nodded solemnly. "Yes. Yes, we are."
"Why are we small?" the girl wondered, glancing at the many people in the room. Some, with a friend or a mate or someone, and some with an empty chair beside them. Her mother sat down in one of the tables, looking longingly at the other chair, which was empty.
"Because there's a lot of people. We're a small part of everyone. And you're the smallest."...
"Death to the tyrant!" Lorenzo shouted.
Within the crowd, there were many responses. Each one said the same words, "Death to the tyrant", but each man enunciated the words differently. In each utterance you could hear the word being ejected with their personal reasons.
Tremain, in his worldview, saw the king as symbol of the working class oppression that had haunted him his whole life. Why should his money support some overfeed pompous ass who hadn't worked a day in his life? The king does not decide the laws anymore, that is the parliament's job.
Lorenzo, in his wisdom, saw...
Shit.
Bob hit the switch again.
I'm not too surprised because he's the biggest klutz I've ever had the misfortune to know. It had to happen the one day I forgot my tethers.
I took a quick look around. No nearby trees to grab. The neighbour's dog was starting to lift. That *was* surprising. That bitch was huge.
The dog, I mean.
I was about 10 fet off the ground now and slowly accelerating. 'Bob, you wanker. Can you hear me?'
He stuck his unshaven face out the window. 'Wot?'
'You hit the switch again, right?'
'Wot switch?' He stuffed...