Number Six_Counting Costs_Flick_One Day the Oracle Began to Speak Again
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Number Six
Number SixEvvie didn't mean for it to happen, she was only trying to help. She left the knife she was washing out on the counter and walked away to take a phone call. Walking to the phone and the call itself she was gone ten minutes. Little did she know the very next call she made was going to be to 911、 Three days before that, lying in the grass in the park on her favorite blanket, a football came crashing into her book like an explosion. What the hell she muttered. Looking around there was no immediate culprit, but she quickly stood up and yelled “ok assholes who did it!” A group of kids ran...
Counting Costs
Counting CostsbyK.A. BachusThe only belt-tightening I can unequivocally get behind is my own when a particularly satisfying dinner does the tightening. All other uses of the phrase are false flags designed to trap some poor schmuck in the hierarchy or to pert much needed funds into somebody else’s favorite promotion scheme du jour. 'Less is more' is a close cousin of the tighter belt and can be summed up as somebody with less understanding making a decision that causes more death, with at least some of the victims innocent and all of them far removed from the decision maker.The kid delivering ...
Flick
There it was again.Flick. Flutter. Flick. In the stillness and silence, there it was.Old Jack rubbed his eyes with the grimy callused fingertips poking out of his fingerless gloves. He pushed the thick Yankee beanwww.onedoor.ccie further above his furrowed and wrinkled brow. He alternated between widening his eyes and squinting his eyes. He shifted his weight, his dirty boots discoloring the snow underfoot. Clouds of panicked condensation swirled around his large nose in quick bursts. Heart pounding, tripping, and stuttering, Old Jack panted through his yellowed teeth. Transfixed in fear, he watched the e...
One Day the Oracle Began to Speak Again
One day the Oracle began to speak again.When I was alive, I never knew that a mirror could become a window, a window could become a door. But one day the drought ended and it began to rain again. The fountain filled, and I slipped inside.At first no one comes. Before the last Oracle was empty, she would sing, her song achingly beautiful, haunting, like a memory long-forgotten begging to be remembered. The water is receding quickly, and in desperation I begin to sing, but the melody is wrong and I don’t remember the words she used. I wait for the waters to leave completely, for the shadowlands ...