User:D.Macdonald

Style
To Whom Ever Finds This:

It is the year 2040, I have seen my family bagged and killed. Dragged away before my eyes, The Baggers come at night and take away the ‘dangerous’ citizens. This is not some silly name based on the old grocery store baggers. This is the new name of hate incarnate. The name of the tyrannous regime that now controls much of the civilized world.

Dominic and Damian, brothers, brothers who, with their powerful army and subtle secret police, have destroyed all who have stood in their way. They have been inseparable since birth, and have developed what seems to be a mental link, unifying the thoughts and impulses of the two. They seemed special and were more than happy to be studied.

Once studied scientists discovered that the two were, in fact, linked mentally, and at that time creating the slogan, More than Human; More than Peace. But more startling was the discovery that in our time, there are only a finite number of ideas. Once created, an idea stays with the person who created it, until they reach adult hood. When that person dies the idea leaves the mind, until it can find a new home as they call it. However, any idea not spoken and held in a child’s mind will be lost forever if the child dies.

This is our plan

This is the future

This will change everything

With nothing left to live for I have found my way through to the underground. It has taken months. Months of hiding, crawling through sewers, and living off rats and other small animals. I have become a voice for them, finding more rebels and guiding the brave souls who are already here. We have picked up many scientists, workers and technicians. With their amazing minds ever advancing technology we have constructed what many said was impossible, what I thought was impossible.

We have constructed a time machine.

We have done our research and discovered that the brothers grew up in a small town in California. Born in 2010 in Irvine California raised later in Yuba City, the brothers charmed their way through all their schooling. Until sophomore year of high school, when they became quiet, closed off, and only talked to each other. Later raids and research led us to old year books and journals, detailing that during that the summer of their freshman and sophomore year of school is when their plan came to fruition.

When I travel back I must leave all items that did not exist in their time. That means no phase rifles, no pulse grenades, and most seriously no plasma weapons. We have uncovered an old submachine, and will take it as my only weapon.

I am a man in my 40’s, I have been living in tunnels under cities for decades, I have never had a chance to clean myself up. To you I will look like a ‘homeless man’ and I guess that term fits. I will be dirty and smell, unshaven and haggard. But my heart is pure. No others will be harmed. I am here to make sure the future I lived is not the future that takes place. I come only for the children you call Nicky and Dami.

Many will think I am crazy, that this is some unprovoked attack on two students; so to ease your mind the score of this week’s baseball games are attached.

This note will be kept in the front left pocket of my coat. The only time anyone will read this is when my mission has been completed or has failed.

Ekphrastic
Wake

Five more minutes. His break almost over, he take the picture of his kids hold it up, gives it a quick kiss, then places it lovingly back in his wallet. Those are his kids, he tucks them in at night, tells them stories for ghosts and goblins. And kisses them good night. that’s when his day starts, he replaces the hardback picture books for his flashlight, and the glass of water for his badge. He doesn’t worry, he will be back before they wake.

His break over, he walks back into the marina. Seeing nothing out of place, he keeps walking, keeps looking, seeing nothing he finds a corner and lights up his pipe. He knows he should quit, he knows it will kill him. He tells himself he’ll quit later. The match goes out, but not the light. Slowly he looks up, the tanker seems to be coming at marina very quickly. Obviously out of control. He throws his pipe, places his hand on his billy club, knowing that it wont help him against a tanker.

He runs to the shore, paws for the emergency phone, and dials 911. He contacts the correct people and waits for the impact that will shake the ground, shatter windows, and wake his kids. He can stand losing a pipe. He can deal with the angry boat owners who lost their yachts. But he cant stand the fact that his kids will be woken to shattering glass and fire from the taker’s oil, and not be able to find their father.

He braces for impact, It happens, it’s loud, It breaks windows, it catches fire, its wakes the town. But in all the events he had expected, he saw something that he didn’t think he’d see. The Hull of the ship starts to bend, almost fluid-like it its deformation. Huge plates of steel and iron bent into gorgeous curves. The inards of the ship are super heated and instantly cooled in the ocean sea creating beautifully organic lines in what was once man made stamped iron and steel.

He took them. Only the best and only the most perfect. He placed them around his house, the curves creating privacy and protection should this ever happen again. He handled the incident so well in fact that he was given a new position at the marina. New time, but same job. He loved it, he was there to see his kids off to school and back in time to make dinner and tuck them in. Only this time he could fall asleep on the couch with the kids clutching their blankets as his hardback picture book dangled in his hand. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Memorization
The Decemberists - The Mariner's Revenge Song Lyrics

We are two mariners Our ships' sole survivors In this belly of a whale

Its ribs our ceiling beams Its guts our carpeting I guess we have some time to kill

You may not remember me I was a child of three And you, a lad of eighteen

But I remember you And I will relate to you How our histories interweave

At the time you were A rake and a roustabout Spending all your money On the whores and hounds Oh Ohhhhh

You had a charming air All cheap and debonair My widowed mother found so sweet

And so she took you in Her sheets still warm with him Now filled with filth and foul disease

As time wore on you proved A debt-ridden drunken mess Leaving my mother A poor consumptive wretch Oh Ohhhhh

And then you disappeared Your gambling arrears The only thing you left behind

And then the magistrate Reclaimed our small estate And my poor mother lost her mind

Then one day, in spring My dear sweet mother died But before she did I took her hand as she, dying, cried: Oh Ohhhhh

"Find him, bind him Tie him to a pole and break His fingers to splinters Drag him to a hole until he Wakes up naked Clawing at the ceiling Of his grave
 * sigh*"

It took me fifteen years To swallow all my tears Among the urchins in the street

Until a priory Took pity and hired me To keep their vestry nice and neat

But never once in the employ Of these holy men Did I ever, once, turn my mind From the thought of revenge Oh Ohhhhh

One night I overheard The prior exchanging words With a penitent whaler from the sea

The captain of his ship Who matched you toe to tip Was known for a wanton cruelty

The following day I shipped to sea With a privateer

And in the whistle Of the wind I could almost hear... Oh Ohhhhh

"Find him, bind him Tie him to a pole and break His fingers to splinters Drag him to a hole until he Wakes up naked Clawing at the ceiling Of his grave

"There is one thing I must say to you As you sail across the sea Always, your mother will watch over you As you avenge this wicked deed"

[haunting, sailor-esque musical interlude lead by mandolin, accordion and tuba]

And then that fateful night We had you in our sight After twenty months at sea

Your starboard flank abeam I was getting my muskets clean When came this rumbling from beneath

The ocean shook The sky went black And the captain quailed

And before us grew The angry jaws Of a giant whale

[instrumental noise] oh ohhhhhhhhhh [screaming] ohhhhh [screaming]

Don't know how I survived The crew all was chewed alive I must have slipped between his teeth

But, oh! What providence! What divine intelligence! That you should survive As well as me

It gives my heart Great joy To see your eyes fill with fear

So lean in close And I will whisper The last words you'll hear Ohh Ohhhhh

In Class
Cold: Nineteen hours, nineteen hours I've awake. Its not a good nineteen, its not a 'hey guys lets stay up all night and party, nineteen hours.' Its been nineteen hours of homework, running to the bus, and catching five minutes of sleep on my way into class.

This was a way back. Back when classes started at 7:30 and I worked until 11 at night. I got four hours of sleep, and a meal in there somewhere.

I finally got to sleep around four and was up at six. Grabbed something to eat, rushed out the door and purposely left my coat on the chair. Yeah, I did it on purpose. It was fine, I didn’t want it any way. I rushed to the bus, and made it with seconds to spare. It was already starting to drizzle, and all I had were just my dress clothes for work. By the time I woke up, I was two stops past where I needed to get off. I trudged for fifteen minutes in the down pour that apparently started in the 30 minutes I was asleep on the bus.

By the time I made it to class I was already on empty. I realized that my backpack, which usually carries all my books for the week was empty, except for my Dungeons and Dragons books from the Saturday previous. With nothing to show for the work I had stayed up so late working on, and because I was soaked to the bone I decided to leave class early and make it to work a bit early. At the time I worked on 5th and Columbus, for a cruise line. Class got out at 11:30 and work started at noon. With the extra time I had I didn’t actually have to run, which gave me a chance to take it a bit easy. And by easy I mean shiver so violently that I thought for sure I was going to fall apart.

Once I made it to the 28th floor I found my way to my desk, it’s a twisted maze of chairs and cubicle walls, all leading to the boss’ area. If I hadn’t memorized the way to my desk by now I would have gotten lost and ended up in human resources, and lets be honest, no one wants to end up in human resources. I notice for the first time in the many many months that I work there that my desk sits under an air vent. Months I have worked here and never noticed it. Not once, never. Not even during the summer when it was hotter than conceivably possible for Seattle and the vent was cooling the whole floor. No, now is the time it decides to make its location known. It chooses today.

I can barley recall the events of the morning, let alone the trek to work. Now im put to painstaking work to enter credit card numbers for people leaving for their Caribbean Cruises. The rain on my clothes dries to an uncomfortable damp, I briefly consider placing my shirt in the microwave to dry it. But the idea is quickly dismissed when I see the condition of the microwave and it’s leftovers cooked to the walls and spinning tray. I stumble back to my desk and answer the next call without looking up from my make-shift pillow, made of cruise brochures and my arms.

It isn’t until I am saying good by the customer, that I realize that I have helped this surprisingly happy person, without once even glancing at a price or checking availability. I normally would have been afraid that my boss would have listened in and watched me handle the call, but this wasn’t a normal day. I stammer the rest of the way through the day till when I clock out. 28 floors later I am waiting for a bus that wont be here for another half hour at the earliest.

This. Was. The. Worst.

At least during the day I could keep myself busy, I could move around, now I’m stuck waiting for a bus that could show at any moment. I was so exhausted that I almost fell asleep standing. Only thing keeping me awake was the fact that my shivering was making my teeth chatter so loud I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. Which was good, because I was so dead on my feet I wasn’t thinking much.