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Short Stories - For you to lose yourself in the loveliness of.
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STORIES
DATE
WHAT PASSES BY
11/07/03
THE FAT CAT
01/02/03
THE JOURNEY OF THE MESSENGER AND HIS SECRET
11/12/02
EUPHONIOUS WOODY FIBER
DATE


What Passes By

Dedicated to Brittany

I was running home that day, for no reason, something was pulling me or pushing me, I couldn't really tell, I didn't complain, I just went with whatever was acting upon me, letting those feelings do as they pleased, it had only happened once before that I can imagine, but it felt so familiar, like this was the beginning of something regular. the thing is, on that day, I ran past my home, I didn't even glance as I passed, what I would finally come to rest on would me many more times better than home, in fact it was as if it wasn't even my home, just a house I was passing by. Paying no more attention to it than I had the last. Through the fields behind that house I ran, and beyond, I was passing small villages and towns quite often, and soon dusk began to fall, but I did not think of stopping, I wasn't tired, or hungry, I had no desires but to run. Nothing on my mind, I didn't have a care. animals that were flattened by passing cars often stuck in my shoes where I was going I was not looking, what I was passing was just a blur, nothing made sense anymore to my eyes my ears, I just felt it, the warmth, the warmth. Time had no effect, what was light and dark was like flicking on and off a light switch. I took no notice that these were the passing days. How could they go by so quickly? Without an event but my traveled self. Were people wondering where I was? It must've been months or even a few years, but these thoughts never arose in my mind, just run. The lights kept fluttering with even more speed than before, like the shutter of a camera as the photographer gets more and more into what he shoots. And I took off...

The flickering was gone, the light and dark had become merged into one twilight color; and direction, time, and place; they all had no meaning. But I noticed how comfortable this seemingly was, but it wasn't, and I looked around but there was so much going on around me, why could I not see this? It had all passed me by, and I have nothing, nothing left, did I ever have anything anyway? Maybe not, but my chances to gain were over, I had lost the opportunity, and my time was up. I tell you this because your time is not up, and your opportunity has not yet gone past you, and you still have the chance, to take notice, to take care, to gain things, and to lose what is not needed. Be careful, and keep watch.




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The Fat Cat

A fat cat went to the boar store and picked up a quick hick whacking stick, the fat cat sat in his sub-par car and went away very far. There and Thar went he in his car even past a pit of tar, wars broke out in his pores from the tar which he now wore. Seeping into his skin as he was sleeping and down it went from his chin and missed the bin which had been placed there after eating and whacking with new quick hick whacking stick. Hicks without chicks were left dying on the floor all because of that boar store, stupid war between cats and hicks with no hats and no wicks for their candlesticks. So the felines and the dumb minds of the country went without war and never went to the boar store anymore.




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The Journey of the Messenger and his Secret

I was restless again on this night, which was identical to every wretched night. Few of us had recently found a moderate amount of assistance through a secret prodigy. I was like an unarmed soldier prior to that time, and now I could reach beyond and while performing this act look up towards that avenging sky and gently shut my eyes and relief would follow. I could do this anytime I needed to, and there was a mission like plan set for today.

Stepping out I saw that once again it was all the same, I despised this repetitive dullness. With every step a greater pain. Regrettably eager, I climbed into the device of transport. This day there was a chill that with drive severely climbed through my spine, unlike the days before in which a brutally unbearable heat had tortured us. It took hours to reach our abominable destination. It was a grave theory of us soldiers that this journey was much shorter, but those desolation-inflicting gargoyles attempted to drag us down, by means of sheer boredom and prosaicness. The interior was old, musty and haunting. The seats were slanted towards the front on a great enough angle to make sliding on them inevitable and there were tiny spikes both on the backs of the seats facing you and your own seat, which forced an awkward position. Many cried out silently in anguish, others tried so hard to conceal their pain, but it was obvious and ever present. Pollution of the airwaves was caused by six chutes into the vehicular device and we were falsely made blissful by those penetrating waves. With that our segment of torment had come to an end.

Now we continued this treatment as we entered a tremendously towering building carved out of rock. It must have been centuries of work, since every millimeter of rock was carved so explicitly that it caused horrid thoughts of hopeless despair. Entering this strange structure a feeling overcame us every time we trudged through the doors. It was despair and we were without hope. There it was, like a tidal wave dead in front of me all the time, ready to crash down at every moment, the tip curling ever-so threatening but never actually collapsing down over me to relieve me of life. It was those gargoyles, looking at you every second from everywhere, the inescapable pressure they put upon your scull as you sauntered around. I crawled through the tunnel with walls that were closing in on me, I was being followed, I sensed it and spun around with haste, but it was just the eyes following me and I spat towards the hideous gargoyles. I knew that I would regret it later but I received gloomy encouragement from those around me. Thankful for this small boost they had given me, I gave them a chance to learn the secret and carved a pattern into the wall. Many looked away and choose not to investigate further but I touched a few. I continued with a quicker pace toward a safe haven and I arrived without additional incidents. Here we could all rest and relax but not lacking torment.

We all separated and went into groups according to what type of suffering we preferred; at least we had choice. Others could not withstand the intensity of some different choices; they took the easier route but knew they would pay for it in the end. As we stepped into the chamber it was overwhelming the evil was airborne and the undeviating harassment of inhaling was causing struggle within. As this was constant, we were weakened by it and vulnerable, so they took advantage of this. We were forced to line up and receive many tales created by the outside world to dishearten and depress us. They prescribed internal evil, suicide, war, hate, evil, and depression for us and we could do nothing but accept it. Others, along with me could rebel against this but not avoid it, just try to help the remaining hundreds, though few would, or could accept it. I spent most of my time doing this, some gave up but I continued to be The Messenger.




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Euphonious Woody Fiber

Juxtapose started slowly up the stairs.
They seemed much longer than they actually were. As he ascended it became warmer and then hotter until he was drenched in sweat. It was too hot and he was nervous. In his head he wanted to turn around and go back down but was too scared. His grip on the banister became tighter and tighter. Juxtapose was almost at the top so he climbed faster. Right then, he felt a stabbing pain in his left hand. He tried to bring his hand to his face but he felt an even worse pain in his hand and it wouldn't move. He looked over and saw that the pain had been an enormous sliver. Blood was trickling in his sweater and all over his watch. He noticed his blood looked weird, but didn't think about it much. He broke off the sliver from the banister and cautiously he continued on holding his hand in his blue sweater. It became hard for him to breathe so at this point he took in air through his shirt underneath the sweater. Suddenly he saw a shadow move quickly and frantically in front of him, but he didn't see what the shadow was coming from with such haste.

The house began to shake when he finally reached the top. He noticed right away that there was one particular spot on the wooden paneled floor, which was soft. Then with his left foot (just the tip) he lightly tapped on the soft spot. All of a sudden like a chain reaction the paneling was ripped up and started thrusting at him. Apparently it looked as though it was happening on its own. Juxtapose dove to the other side as one panel barely missed him, but just as he did that the once lovely pine floor beneath him initiated to move. Now the only safe place to stand was on the soft spot that had begun it all. Juxtapose thought he'd never make it out of the house alive. His skin began blistering, and then those blisters festered. He made it safely to the spot, which he could now see was on a long pole of which he could not see where it ended. There was not enough time to dodge the wood. *SLIT* * JAM*, two panels, one nailed him in each leg, cutting off his legs below the shin. He watched his feet and parts of his legs fall down along the pole. Then right before his eyes these fifteen-foot panels transformed into his legs, now fully healed, except for his hand. He was now nineteen and a half feet tall. From below him he heard two small *PLOINKS*, It sounded like his former legs dropping into a liquid. As he rested for a few moments, he felt a repetitive small vibration in the pole. It then leaned to the right. It swayed to the left, right, and left... Then he recognized the fact that it was going to fall. He looked around what was previously the hallway. There were two doors. He aimed for the closest one, which happened to be the baby's room, and got ready to jump. The log wasn't swaying anymore it was just stuck on a sixty degree angle which was promptly bound lower.
'Three, Two, One!' he said aloud.
Juxtapose then leaped, just as the pole fell into the depths. He saw in front of the door something to grab, but missed. It was a good thing that his legs were now long. Juxtapose didn't fall but he now had himself held up by pushing on the one side of hall with his feet and the other side with his hands.

He was now facing the door by means of which the strange noises were coming from. Juxtapose felt a cold breeze, he realized that coming from underneath the door was steam rushing out quickly. He thought to himself that he had to get through the door. While he looked up at the door he saw that there was no handle. The door seemed to be part of the wall and not able to open. He let go of his holding place with the hand, which had the splinter in it, and resorted to banging on the door. The door didn't budge, or even shake, except for the bottom middle. It looked like a door for a dog or cat would use but a bit taller. Juxtapose crawled through the opening in the wall. It took a while to get through since his legs were now so long.

On the other side was not a young child's room like expected, but a huge vegetated land. Tiny Monarch butterflies flittered around him, and they seemed to speak to him. He didn't know what they were saying, but he understood what they were trying to tell him. There was danger. At that moment hundreds of Afghanistanian monkeys flew in and tried to attack him. He swatted at them for they could not fly higher than he could. Even though he attempted to rid of these monkeys, they succeeded. Mud was flung from their wings at great speeds, covering his welts from the previous almost unbearable heat. The mud cooled his burns and soothed him. The monkeys, in a quite orderly fashion, lined up in two rows around Juxtapose. Three others stayed close to him hovering in front of his head. The largest nodded his head royally and a smaller one to his side flew forward. He began to communicate, but this time he knew what they were saying;
'Young man, beware!'
'Butterflies kill!'
And as quickly as they came they didn't leave. After that abstruse trice not a word was spoken. Juxtapose didn't care, he was refreshed and was wondering excitedly around the newfound world. The sites were majestic and Juxtapose was dumbfounded. He came to the edge of a cliff, he looked down and there was an awe-inspiring waterfall. There was murmuring going on between the monkeys who hadn't spoken for hours. Juxtapose saw the water down below was quite deep; he took a quick glance back at the monkeys, turned around and Jumped! He closed his eyes it seemed like he was falling for more than enough time. *Crunch*, he landed; it didn't feel like water though as he opened his eyes he was falling down the stairs. His hand got caught on the banister and gave him a sliver in his left hand. Just then the parents walked in. 'Hi Juxtapose! What happened to your hand?!?'

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