Day 29
I have a box, it's closed and cannot be opened. Made of wood, but is too heavy to be empty. Shaking it yields nothing, but turning it results in it trying to turn more, after I stopped. I shall experiment more, this box confuses me for now.
Day 30
Today the box was different, two metal rods stuck out the side of the box, for electrolysis, maybe. And sure enough, connecting them to a circu...
Utopia, the city of dreams, where people go to thrive in an economy larger than any planet dreams to be.
Utopia, the city of hope, a beacon in the dark where all the great people are, all the great people to save all nations.
Utopia, the city of the future, flying cars, flying expectations, and flying skylines.
Dystopia, the city below, beneath the facade, the people weep, new, and unwelcome. ...
He laugh as our hands tighten on his, his laugh as false as the walls around us. A dream? No, too real. Reality? Too fake, too supernatural. An in between, where things aren't as they seem. We walk, he laughs, till someone falls.
A scream in the distance, we see something fall, and slow. Two figures reach out to catch the floating stone statue, inanimate as all the others. And then they join it. ...
That moment, the bailiff burst into the court, the deafening roar of this man's voice humorous, as you could barely see his head over the stands. "Your honour! The defence was murdered!"
That's in- my chance to clear myself of these allegations. A fatal mistake of the prosecution, but makes sense- someone cannot come on time if they are dead.
"Christ a- Bailiff, ring up forensics along with the ...
The sound of my boots striking the dry dirt beneath me was sullen, especially with the absence of wildlife, the trees and their grey trunks pathing a path of sorrow. As I hauled myself on, I would take many turns, including this one to come, though it's outcome was different, instead of a row of bleak trees, there I saw an open expanse, vegetation spread across the landscape, and directly in my pa...
Here comes the bride
Is what they say
But what about the groom?
He'll be here all day
Strolling down the isle
With two silk smooth tails
This poor fox will wait
When all else fails
It is not quite his day
In the dressing room
Tearing through his dress he sighs
He felt not worthy of the groom
Before too long the bells should chime
Signalling the start of the night
For the groom, in many torn d...
