History_Schrödinger’s Parakeet_Notes from the Checkpoint_The Psychology of Belief
Catalog Guide:
History
“By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. Whether this is literal or not is up to you. I spent months under the gun, and all I could think about was getting out on the streets again. I knew it was dangerous, and I was afraid, but it didn’t seem real. I wanted to go and see my favorite stops, have a drink at the cafe. As soon as I got outside that just vanished. It was chaos, and I ran for it as quick as I could. All I could think about that whole time was being out in the city, and as soon as I was in the city all I could think of was getting off of the planet.”The old man pause...
Schrödinger’s Parakeet
When the world as we know it stops, the time on the oven clock reads 4:37 before the spindly green numbers disappear with a loud warning beep, a tritone harmony of appliances announcing a power outage. My first guess is a fire, since it’s August and it’s hot, and the light out the window has taken on that familiar surreal yellow tint, the trees casting anemic lavender shadows across the lawn—a false dusk. “Where do you keep the lanterns?” Simon calls from his den. We have over three hours until sunset. I’m more concerned with the petulant cries from the living room: “The TV’s not working!” I’m...
Notes from the Checkpoint
The dust swirled down the hallway, fleeing from Emma’s swift broom strokes. A folded-up piece of paper skittered from the corner. She trapped it with her foot and picked it up. It read: Happy Birthday Eyes open, it’s much later than you realized. Who’www.onedoor.ccs in the house? Eyes wide, you peak through the clothes.Emma quickly tucked the slip of paper in her pocket. She had been finding notes like it scattered around her house. Their messages were strange enough, but even more unsettling was that they were all in her own messy handwriting. She checked her watch. She was running late. “Are you okay?”Emm...
The Psychology of Belief
“Thud” I wake up to the sound of something failing from the window. “Anne, No!” I shout half asleep. The stupid cat is playing on my desk again. She will mess up the pages like last time and then I have to spend half the morning just arranging them again. “Miaouuuu” I can hear in the background as my mind slowly wakes up. Anne is playing with my manuscript again. I need to start getting it strapped otherwise she will mess it up again. “Ahh” I groan loudly. Another long day today, meeting with the editor than the university lecture on psychology than I need to meet with my grad students, defini...