Ice, lock, wind
I am a dead man. Zack bobbed like a cork in the black waters of the Bering Strait. His bright orange survival suit covered most of his body but his head was getting hammered by one wave after another. He had long ago ceased to feel his fingers and toes. In the end, the ocean promises only cold and darkness.
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(Zebra, Oil, Supernova)
Jim Rivers was dreaming about swimming. It had started out nice, but the water was cold now, and an octopus had wrapped its tentacles around him. The hateful creature was reaching down his throat, chilled fingers reaching … choking.
He woke with a scream, strangled by tubes running down his nose and throat to his stomach and lungs. Confined in some sort of capsule, he had no room to move his arms and legs – pod. There were tubes going everywhere – they seemed to be attached to him. They went into his nose, down his throat and a couple of other places that his mother taught him never to mention in public. He couldn’t look down, the containment was that complete. Pod. Read the rest of this entry
George stood over June’s body, looking down. He was still angry, and still wanted to hurt her but the kid had gone and called the police; it was time to leave if he ever intended to get out. The evening darkness would hide their escape. It would be hard to get Geoffrey to go, but there really was no choice was there? Already Geoffrey was holding his head and rocking back and forth, like he had done as a child. Now there’s a blast from the past, thought George. There was a time when Geoffrey had been very familiar with that position. Read the rest of this entry
Since many of you have requested that I further this story, I’m going to give it a try. I will add to it in installments, until it ends or we all get tired of it. Here we go, and thank you all for encouraging me!
(Continued from the post “Leave it in Beaver”)
June’s apron is a little messy now, but that’s alright she won’t be needing it anymore. No more chopping or cooking, vacuuming or washing clothes. She won’t have any more reason to be mad at me for tracking dirt into the house from the garden; or for watching mean tv shows like CSI and Hill Street Blues. She wants to watch baby shows like Gilligan’s Island and Lost in Space reruns over and over while she eats chocolates one by one from the box. She always offers me one, but I know her game, she’ll snatch it away at the last second and laugh while she pops it into her mouth. Read the rest of this entry
Doll, stars, blind
Carmine was casing the house he planned to hit next. It might sound cliché but it was necessary if you intended to do a job and get away clean. So far everything he had seen pointed to an incredibly easy robbery. The woman who lived here (alone no less) was blind. Cut the phone lines and it couldn’t get any easier than this. She would have no way to call for help. This was going to be obnoxiously easy and if there’s anything Carmine liked, it was a smooth job. He had done his homework. Read the rest of this entry