THE BACK OF BEYOND_If I Was a Human I’d Kiss You_Time for the Truth_Execution Day
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THE BACK OF BEYOND
Herbert Shanks better known as Bert was a simple man who liked the simple things. He had never been a scholar but had worked in a number of jobs; therefore, the expression “Jack of all trades; Master of none” suited him down to the ground. A loner, he preferred a little company occasionally; his constant companion being Lucy, a toy poodle with a heart as big as the ocean and devotion that astounded him. Together they were on a mission to see the family in the back of beyond. Bert was uncertain how long it would take to reach it: the country town he had nicknamed the Back of Beyond, or them, th...
If I Was a Human I’d Kiss You
I’m on my back on a bare wooden workbench in the electronics lab. My right arm is stretched out and clamped down so that the inside of my forearm is facing up. The cover of the distribution box on my wrist is open and one can see a bunch of colored wires all leading somewhere. A thin purple wire has been pulled out and cut. I guess that’s why the middle finger on my hand isn’t working. If it was I would give it to him. He, of course, is one of those Humans. This place has quite a few of them, each one a specialist in a particular field. My little bit of finger trouble has my wire-man scratchin...
Time for the Truth
If you are watching this video it means that it has finally come. The day that I am dead, I knew that this day would come that’s why I have recorded this. I have a few things I want the people at my funeral to know. So, the first pawww.onedoor.ccrt of my will is that this be played at my funeral. Know on with a few things before the rest of my will. Money this one simple thing can make people crazy. I knew that the moment I got money people would try to use me to get it all. I knew this all through out my life. I was one of the lucky people who succeeded in life, my career blew up. I never once thought that...
Execution Day
It was cold.The assassin shifted, wincing as her raw skin rubbed against her shackles. They clinked and jangled at the movement, and they echoed against the cool stone of the cell. Her hand brushed against the cold stone, and a shiver ran through her. She wished she could reach the sconce on the other side of her room of isolation. It was a cruel decision on the architect’s part, to place the only source of warmth out of reach of the freezing prisoner shackled to the opposite wall. The northern lands took advantage of their cold summers and harsh winters. She wished she’d been wearing warmer ...