Status
Report on Subject A-443-C
6:13am:
Subject A awakes 2 minutes before alarm clock. Subject immediately
grabs pen and notepad.
6:16am:
Subject finishes jotting down in dream journal (photocopy entry).
(must log entry to uncover key)
6:44am:
After shower, shave. Subject leaves apartment and heads to subway to
catch train.
6:51am:
Subject stops at news-stand, buys a pack of gum, a coffee and
the morning edition of The Sun. (Must obtain copy of Sun and see what
caught his eye).
7:01am:
Subject heads down to subway...
20131216
Conflict Resolution
Version
Elephant Aardvark
The sweat was starting to fog his goggles. Flies swarmed around his head. The slightest shift of movement crackled the dry grass. The barren trees gave no shade against the sun. His breath was hot inside the helmet.
The enemy patrol crept only yards away. Tight formation. Barrels steadily sweeping the brush. The point-man gave the hand signal for a stop. These guys were pros; they must have sensed something was off.
Scorpio had his orders; wait until the patrol entered the bottleneck. But he knew that things had just become now-or-never.
Leaping from his cover with a roar, the trigger on his weapon squeezed tight, Scorpio lasted about 4 seconds before he started taking hits and his camo jacket was covered in bright yellow splotches of paint.
The sweat was starting to fog his goggles. Flies swarmed around his head. The slightest shift of movement crackled the dry grass. The barren trees gave no shade against the sun. His breath was hot inside the helmet.
The enemy patrol crept only yards away. Tight formation. Barrels steadily sweeping the brush. The point-man gave the hand signal for a stop. These guys were pros; they must have sensed something was off.
Scorpio had his orders; wait until the patrol entered the bottleneck. But he knew that things had just become now-or-never.
Leaping from his cover with a roar, the trigger on his weapon squeezed tight, Scorpio lasted about 4 seconds before he started taking hits and his camo jacket was covered in bright yellow splotches of paint.
Crime Scene Blues
Version
Crimson.1
Stone sighed, took a sip of the stale coffee. Riveta never used to let the pot go stale; she'd either drink it all too fast or make sure a new one got made. He missed her so much. The counselor said that was going to be the case for a long time.
Stone actually preferred it when the other shields busted his chops about seeing the shrink. They made lots of Frasier jokes, and Tony Soprano jokes, and Stone felt a little bit normal. For a little while.
He tried to focus on the bag of evidence from the latest vic. He had his notebook out, but there wasn't much to write about. A lighter, cheap convenience-store type. And the piece of paper, folded, crumpled.
A list.
how i answer the phone
the comic book contest
crows cawing
social-networking software
art vs helping
classmates
The writing getting sloppier, or more hurried, with each item. Two more things.
sun vs moon
anti-max
Stone took another sip. Riveta always loved a good mystery...
Stone sighed, took a sip of the stale coffee. Riveta never used to let the pot go stale; she'd either drink it all too fast or make sure a new one got made. He missed her so much. The counselor said that was going to be the case for a long time.
Stone actually preferred it when the other shields busted his chops about seeing the shrink. They made lots of Frasier jokes, and Tony Soprano jokes, and Stone felt a little bit normal. For a little while.
He tried to focus on the bag of evidence from the latest vic. He had his notebook out, but there wasn't much to write about. A lighter, cheap convenience-store type. And the piece of paper, folded, crumpled.
A list.
how i answer the phone
the comic book contest
crows cawing
social-networking software
art vs helping
classmates
The writing getting sloppier, or more hurried, with each item. Two more things.
sun vs moon
anti-max
Stone took another sip. Riveta always loved a good mystery...
Primal Urge
Version
Echo Foxtrot
It was the alcohol talking, that's what she figured. Why else would anybody make up a blatant lie like that. She stood there, arms folded at her chest, and she glared at him with eyes that a snake could love.
"But sweetie," he said. "It's true. It's the bona fide truth!"
"That's bona fide bullshit," she snapped back. She had the urge to punch his lights out, but she held back that primal instinct.
"Honey..."
"Don't you dare 'honey' me," she interrupted. Her arms fell down to her side and she clenched her fist.
She didn't know why something so lame would make her primal urges kick in; she knew that something inside her awoke and that she was about to unleash hell.
"Baby doll..." he began but never finished as Maggie smashed her fist into his face. And to Maggie that felt exhilarating.
It was the alcohol talking, that's what she figured. Why else would anybody make up a blatant lie like that. She stood there, arms folded at her chest, and she glared at him with eyes that a snake could love.
"But sweetie," he said. "It's true. It's the bona fide truth!"
"That's bona fide bullshit," she snapped back. She had the urge to punch his lights out, but she held back that primal instinct.
"Honey..."
"Don't you dare 'honey' me," she interrupted. Her arms fell down to her side and she clenched her fist.
She didn't know why something so lame would make her primal urges kick in; she knew that something inside her awoke and that she was about to unleash hell.
"Baby doll..." he began but never finished as Maggie smashed her fist into his face. And to Maggie that felt exhilarating.
Understanding the Nature of Coffee
Status
Report on Subject A-443-C
Blog entry of Subject A-443-C.
You ever wake up in a dream? Have you? I think they call it lucid dreaming. Where you awake in your mind and all five senses have kicked in and you can touch, smell, feel, hear and taste everything in that dreamscape.
It happened to me the other morning. It's strange and wonderful and unique because you know you are dreaming and you just go with the flow.
There's this waitress I know who works down at Kelly's Diner. She's really nice. Anyway, my dream begins with me sitting in the diner and drinking coffee and eating Rhubarb Pie, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side.
I never liked that pie, but yet here I am in my dream eating it. And I could taste it as well. And it was sweet and good.
Alice comes over and refills my cup and then she puts down three creamers by it. She then taps the third creamer three times and says: "Try this one it's a kicker."
So I open it up and it looks like cream and I pour it into my coffee cup and then whammo it stirs around automatically and I can see it inside, and it looks like the Milky Way. So I look up to see Alice at the end and she's chatting with three people at the counter and they are all look over at me and smile and...
Blog entry of Subject A-443-C.
You ever wake up in a dream? Have you? I think they call it lucid dreaming. Where you awake in your mind and all five senses have kicked in and you can touch, smell, feel, hear and taste everything in that dreamscape.
It happened to me the other morning. It's strange and wonderful and unique because you know you are dreaming and you just go with the flow.
There's this waitress I know who works down at Kelly's Diner. She's really nice. Anyway, my dream begins with me sitting in the diner and drinking coffee and eating Rhubarb Pie, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side.
I never liked that pie, but yet here I am in my dream eating it. And I could taste it as well. And it was sweet and good.
Alice comes over and refills my cup and then she puts down three creamers by it. She then taps the third creamer three times and says: "Try this one it's a kicker."
So I open it up and it looks like cream and I pour it into my coffee cup and then whammo it stirs around automatically and I can see it inside, and it looks like the Milky Way. So I look up to see Alice at the end and she's chatting with three people at the counter and they are all look over at me and smile and...
The Simplicity of it All
Version
Charlie Ten
Simon awoke on his couch. His eyes fluttering open and the tendrils of the dream slipping away into the night. The sandman giveth and the sandman taketh away.
His TV was on and he hit the volume up a little. His memories were a fog of dreamscape and reality and memories colliding to form a collusive image.
There was something he should be doing, but he couldn't fathom for the life of him what it was supposed to be. It eluded him as if rationality slipped through his colander of a mind.
Still, there was something he remembered he should be doing. He got up and stretched and headed into the kitchenette of his small cramped apartment and put the kettle on for tea.
It should be coffee.
He didn't like coffee. Never developed a taste for it, but still the urge was there. He shook it off for now.
He grabbed the green tea from the cupboard and took out a packet of sweetener.
Sugar. Two sugar.
Simon stopped and look around, as if it was a voice that told him.
Have to answer cellphone.
And before he could finish comprehending that thought, his cellphone chimed. It was set to the theme of Person of Interest.
Simon awoke on his couch. His eyes fluttering open and the tendrils of the dream slipping away into the night. The sandman giveth and the sandman taketh away.
His TV was on and he hit the volume up a little. His memories were a fog of dreamscape and reality and memories colliding to form a collusive image.
There was something he should be doing, but he couldn't fathom for the life of him what it was supposed to be. It eluded him as if rationality slipped through his colander of a mind.
Still, there was something he remembered he should be doing. He got up and stretched and headed into the kitchenette of his small cramped apartment and put the kettle on for tea.
It should be coffee.
He didn't like coffee. Never developed a taste for it, but still the urge was there. He shook it off for now.
He grabbed the green tea from the cupboard and took out a packet of sweetener.
Sugar. Two sugar.
Simon stopped and look around, as if it was a voice that told him.
Have to answer cellphone.
And before he could finish comprehending that thought, his cellphone chimed. It was set to the theme of Person of Interest.
20131215
Geekdom
Version
Elephant Tiger
Scorpio scanned the racks, looking for a title he recognized. Harbingers, The Haunted Seven, Macrotech Warriors... He had never heard of any of them. It was making him nervous. He really really wanted to pick up a comic, grab a coffee, and sit and relax for a while.
At the counter, a customer was talking to the clerk.
"I saw this really neat looking documentary where these guys dress up as knights and stuff, and they fight, like a game, or a sport I guess-"
"That's called LARPing," the clerk explained. "Live Action Role Playing. Like Dungeons and Dragons but people actually act it out."
"Sounds neat... But I think I would have a hard time suspending my disbelief."
Scorpio frowned, and slipped a hand into the inside pocket of his coat. Felt the cellphone there. Pulled out a piece of paper. Unfolded it.
Name: Scorpio
Occupation: Special-ops Soldier
Intellect Pool: 3 Physical Pool: 5 Spiritual Pool: 2
Stamina: 10 Soak: 7 Fate: 3
Vocations: firearms, defensive, rogue
He felt a shiver run up his spine.
Scorpio scanned the racks, looking for a title he recognized. Harbingers, The Haunted Seven, Macrotech Warriors... He had never heard of any of them. It was making him nervous. He really really wanted to pick up a comic, grab a coffee, and sit and relax for a while.
At the counter, a customer was talking to the clerk.
"I saw this really neat looking documentary where these guys dress up as knights and stuff, and they fight, like a game, or a sport I guess-"
"That's called LARPing," the clerk explained. "Live Action Role Playing. Like Dungeons and Dragons but people actually act it out."
"Sounds neat... But I think I would have a hard time suspending my disbelief."
Scorpio frowned, and slipped a hand into the inside pocket of his coat. Felt the cellphone there. Pulled out a piece of paper. Unfolded it.
Name: Scorpio
Occupation: Special-ops Soldier
Intellect Pool: 3 Physical Pool: 5 Spiritual Pool: 2
Stamina: 10 Soak: 7 Fate: 3
Vocations: firearms, defensive, rogue
He felt a shiver run up his spine.
The Principal of the Matter
Version Sting
Donnelly turned the corner in the hallway to see Mayganne getting a sip of water from the fountain.
"Mornin' Mr. Donnelly," she said as she stood up.
"Hello Mayganne," he replied. "Shouldn't you be in class at this moment?"
He suddenly felt uncomfortable, remembering a nightmare that he had about the student. It was like a distant memory of sitting around having coffee while the coffeeshop was burning.
Mayganne nodded her head and moved along down the hall. She too had a strange feeling of deja vu, but yet she couldn't place it. As she walked away she cursed as her cellphone chimed.
Destination Salvation
Version Crimson C
Riveta woke up in a strange hotel room. It was nice. A suite. She never could have afforded it on her salary.
She tried to stay still, keep her breathing even. Letting the sounds of the room, the city beyond the curtained windows, come to her.
She was alone. There were whirring noises outside that she couldn't recognize.
She sat up, took stock. Her clothes were folded on a nearby chair. Her service revolver was on the nightstand. And a cellphone.
He had said things would likely get strange. Stranger. What was his name...? It seemed like a long time ago.
The cellphone rang. She snapped it open, held it to her ear.
"Good morning, Detective. This is the Professor."
20131214
Bingo Day.
"Morning Max," the woman said as she entered the room. Her smile was fake like a sharks. She strolled across the floor and opened the curtain to let the morning sun brighten up the darkened room.
"What day is it?" Max replied. His voice raspy with age.
"It's Tuesday," she replied. "And you know what that is. It's bingo day!"
The woman was dressed in blue slacks and a flowery shirt, she wore a name tag that declared her to be Mary Sue and that she was a Nurse-Practitioner.
"Bingo day," Max repeated. His mind was foggy and cloudy and he wanted a smoke.
Mary Sue made sure all the curtains were open and that the room was bright and vibrant. Max turned away from the window and brought up the blankets. He could feel the bones ache and creak. Snap. Crackle. Pop.
"Aw, c'mon Max," Mary Sue said as she approached. "There's some nifty new prizes this time around. She checked the pitcher that was on the wheeled table by the bed and saw that it was empty, so she picked it up and went to the bathroom to run the water.
Max brought up his hands, rippled with arthritis and liver-spotted as well, grabbed his glasses off the nightstand and fumbled to put them on his face. He had a hard time remembering where he was and what he was doing, sometimes his memory would flash back to events in his life; or what he thought was his life, could have been a movie he saw and liked but things were blurred now. His reality was here and now.
"There you go, Max," Mary Sue said as she plopped the pitcher of water on the little table. "I'll go and get some more ice for you."
"Thanks," Max replied. He reached for the control for the bed and adjusted it up. He could smell the aroma of food floating down the hallway. Breakfast was being prepared. He wasn't hungry but he did crave a cigarette and a coffee.
"Here. Let me help you," Mary Sue said as she fluffed up his pillow and adjusted the bed so he was sitting up some. "I'll be right back with the ice. Do you want a juice?"
"A coffee," he stated.
"You know you can't have that now," she told him. "Doctor's orders!"
Max was about to say something to her but then it slipped through, like rain through a screen. He tried to swing his feet over and couldn't move them. Pain wracked his body, he noticed the iv drip by his side and then he caught himself in the mirror at the door to his washroom.
There was a rap on the door and a woman entered, in her late 40's or early 50's and she looked radiant as ever. Behind her was a young fellow as well who was listening to an ipod, he seemed to be in his teens.
"Maggie," Max said.
"No Dad," the woman said. "It's me Peri."
She was the spitting image of Maggie. Long flowing hair, eyes sharper than diamonds on velvet.
"Peri?" Max replied. His memory searching and he seemed to recall her.
"Yes," Peri replied; he could see the hurt look in her eyes. She knew that he couldn't recall her at all.
"You were on the subway with us weren't you?" he asked her.
"No, dad," she replied matter-of-factly to him. "That was another lifetime ago."
"Yes, you were Maggie," he said stubbornly. This time he could see the hurt look in Peri's eyes.
There was a moment of awkward silence, music could be heard from the headphones of the young lad beside her. He also seemed to recall the young lad, but couldn't place him as well. These things were getting tough.
Darius... no... Dex... no... Goner... it was something.
Peri turned to the young lad. "Derek, would you take those off and visit with your Poppa."
Derek did what he was told. He took the headphones off and wrapped them up on his ipod and put it on the table. The young lad looked fetching in his jeans, bright yellow shirt with the words Obey written in red with an X over it. He looked like him.
Mary Sue entered the room once again with a pitcher of ice. "Oh, good morning Peri!"
"Good morning Mary Sue," Peri answered.
"And who is this fine strapping lad that you brought with you?" Mary-Sue inquired, as she poured the ice cubes.
"This is my son, Derek. He's home from college," Peri said.
"My what a strapping young lad he is," Mary Sue stated. "He looks like a younger version of Max here."
Max struggled to remember. "What day is this?"
"It's Tuesday, Max," Mary-Sue told him. "It's Bingo Day."
Derek smiled and didn't say much at all, he glanced around the room and then whispered to his mother that he was going out for a smoke and maybe grab a coffee.
"Black with two sugars," Max told him.
"Now, now," Peri told him. "You know you shouldn't be drinking coffee."
"I can do as I damn well please," he scolded her. The nerve of this woman telling him what he could do. "Are you Legacy?"
Mary Sue brought Peri aside and they seemed to be in conference; Max could only get a glimpse of what they were talking about over the music that was emitting from the headphones. Some techno beat song, that made him drum his fingers on the table.
"His dementia is getting worse isn't it?" Peri asked the nurse.
Mary Sue didn't say a word but nodded. "I'll let Dr. Fischer tell you more of his progress; he wants to chat with you."
"He's 88 years old," Peri said to her. "He lived a rough life."
"Rumour has it that he was a secret agent of sorts," Mary Sue said. "Though some of the stories he has told seem to be straight out of science-fiction."
"That's my father alright," Peri replied. "The teller of tall-tales."
"Dr. Fischer is in his office now," Mary Sue said and Peri nodded.
"Dad," Peri said to Max. "I'll be right back, I'm going to talk with the Doctor."
"Bring me a cigarette and a coffee please," he said.
"I'll see what I can do," she lied. And both her and Mary Sue went out the door.
Max was trying to remember her and knew her, the music filtering in from the headphones seemed to drive a beat, unlocking rhythms in his brain. Clearing a path of sorts. With his crippled hands he reached for the device; unraveled the headphones and plugged them into his ears.
Dexter was listening to Classic Hits of Gen X (Songs Your Grandparents Danced To) and it was a Crystal Method song that he had listened to many, many times before.
This transmission is coming to you.
He closed his eyes and let the music flow, and it seemed to get louder and louder in his head. His fingers drumming out the beat on the table. Seemed to move more freely and more agile at the moment.
This transmission is coming to you.
Eighty years of memories were unlocking now, breaking through the damn of dementia as neural passageways which where damaged by age and time began to open and flow freely. Max felt the music, a floodgate of emotions and torrents of memories washing over him like The Maid of The Mist at Niagara Falls.
"We've got it!"
He sat up; this was just what the doctor ordered. He remembered it all, he remembered everything and when he opened his eyes he saw Derek standing there in the room his eyes widening in what looked like a state of shock.
"Who are you?" Derek asked. Seeing the young man laying in bed with his headphones.
Max saw his reflection in the door of the mirror and saw a youthful reflection, a glow over his body, a shining beacon of sorts. Derek dropped the coffee he was holding and the liquid spread across the floor. Max remembered it all, how he became trapped in this reality and didn't shift with the others, how he learned to live and adjust and eventually marry a woman who resembled someone he loved. Maybe it was her, that had helped him adjust to this world.
He had been trapped in this reality for a long time now. He had been here in this reality for over 50 years. He could feel the wave approaching, he was shifting and he knew it.
Max turned to his grandson and smiled. "Can you give Peri a message from me?"
The youth just nodded in disbelief.
"Tell her..." he started and paused because he didn't know what to say. "Tell her 'Bingo!'"
And that's when he disappeared in a blinding flash of light.
"What day is it?" Max replied. His voice raspy with age.
"It's Tuesday," she replied. "And you know what that is. It's bingo day!"
The woman was dressed in blue slacks and a flowery shirt, she wore a name tag that declared her to be Mary Sue and that she was a Nurse-Practitioner.
"Bingo day," Max repeated. His mind was foggy and cloudy and he wanted a smoke.
Mary Sue made sure all the curtains were open and that the room was bright and vibrant. Max turned away from the window and brought up the blankets. He could feel the bones ache and creak. Snap. Crackle. Pop.
"Aw, c'mon Max," Mary Sue said as she approached. "There's some nifty new prizes this time around. She checked the pitcher that was on the wheeled table by the bed and saw that it was empty, so she picked it up and went to the bathroom to run the water.
Max brought up his hands, rippled with arthritis and liver-spotted as well, grabbed his glasses off the nightstand and fumbled to put them on his face. He had a hard time remembering where he was and what he was doing, sometimes his memory would flash back to events in his life; or what he thought was his life, could have been a movie he saw and liked but things were blurred now. His reality was here and now.
"There you go, Max," Mary Sue said as she plopped the pitcher of water on the little table. "I'll go and get some more ice for you."
"Thanks," Max replied. He reached for the control for the bed and adjusted it up. He could smell the aroma of food floating down the hallway. Breakfast was being prepared. He wasn't hungry but he did crave a cigarette and a coffee.
"Here. Let me help you," Mary Sue said as she fluffed up his pillow and adjusted the bed so he was sitting up some. "I'll be right back with the ice. Do you want a juice?"
"A coffee," he stated.
"You know you can't have that now," she told him. "Doctor's orders!"
Max was about to say something to her but then it slipped through, like rain through a screen. He tried to swing his feet over and couldn't move them. Pain wracked his body, he noticed the iv drip by his side and then he caught himself in the mirror at the door to his washroom.
There was a rap on the door and a woman entered, in her late 40's or early 50's and she looked radiant as ever. Behind her was a young fellow as well who was listening to an ipod, he seemed to be in his teens.
"Maggie," Max said.
"No Dad," the woman said. "It's me Peri."
She was the spitting image of Maggie. Long flowing hair, eyes sharper than diamonds on velvet.
"Peri?" Max replied. His memory searching and he seemed to recall her.
"Yes," Peri replied; he could see the hurt look in her eyes. She knew that he couldn't recall her at all.
"You were on the subway with us weren't you?" he asked her.
"No, dad," she replied matter-of-factly to him. "That was another lifetime ago."
"Yes, you were Maggie," he said stubbornly. This time he could see the hurt look in Peri's eyes.
There was a moment of awkward silence, music could be heard from the headphones of the young lad beside her. He also seemed to recall the young lad, but couldn't place him as well. These things were getting tough.
Darius... no... Dex... no... Goner... it was something.
Peri turned to the young lad. "Derek, would you take those off and visit with your Poppa."
Derek did what he was told. He took the headphones off and wrapped them up on his ipod and put it on the table. The young lad looked fetching in his jeans, bright yellow shirt with the words Obey written in red with an X over it. He looked like him.
Mary Sue entered the room once again with a pitcher of ice. "Oh, good morning Peri!"
"Good morning Mary Sue," Peri answered.
"And who is this fine strapping lad that you brought with you?" Mary-Sue inquired, as she poured the ice cubes.
"This is my son, Derek. He's home from college," Peri said.
"My what a strapping young lad he is," Mary Sue stated. "He looks like a younger version of Max here."
Max struggled to remember. "What day is this?"
"It's Tuesday, Max," Mary-Sue told him. "It's Bingo Day."
Derek smiled and didn't say much at all, he glanced around the room and then whispered to his mother that he was going out for a smoke and maybe grab a coffee.
"Black with two sugars," Max told him.
"Now, now," Peri told him. "You know you shouldn't be drinking coffee."
"I can do as I damn well please," he scolded her. The nerve of this woman telling him what he could do. "Are you Legacy?"
Mary Sue brought Peri aside and they seemed to be in conference; Max could only get a glimpse of what they were talking about over the music that was emitting from the headphones. Some techno beat song, that made him drum his fingers on the table.
"His dementia is getting worse isn't it?" Peri asked the nurse.
Mary Sue didn't say a word but nodded. "I'll let Dr. Fischer tell you more of his progress; he wants to chat with you."
"He's 88 years old," Peri said to her. "He lived a rough life."
"Rumour has it that he was a secret agent of sorts," Mary Sue said. "Though some of the stories he has told seem to be straight out of science-fiction."
"That's my father alright," Peri replied. "The teller of tall-tales."
"Dr. Fischer is in his office now," Mary Sue said and Peri nodded.
"Dad," Peri said to Max. "I'll be right back, I'm going to talk with the Doctor."
"Bring me a cigarette and a coffee please," he said.
"I'll see what I can do," she lied. And both her and Mary Sue went out the door.
Max was trying to remember her and knew her, the music filtering in from the headphones seemed to drive a beat, unlocking rhythms in his brain. Clearing a path of sorts. With his crippled hands he reached for the device; unraveled the headphones and plugged them into his ears.
Dexter was listening to Classic Hits of Gen X (Songs Your Grandparents Danced To) and it was a Crystal Method song that he had listened to many, many times before.
This transmission is coming to you.
He closed his eyes and let the music flow, and it seemed to get louder and louder in his head. His fingers drumming out the beat on the table. Seemed to move more freely and more agile at the moment.
This transmission is coming to you.
Eighty years of memories were unlocking now, breaking through the damn of dementia as neural passageways which where damaged by age and time began to open and flow freely. Max felt the music, a floodgate of emotions and torrents of memories washing over him like The Maid of The Mist at Niagara Falls.
"We've got it!"
He sat up; this was just what the doctor ordered. He remembered it all, he remembered everything and when he opened his eyes he saw Derek standing there in the room his eyes widening in what looked like a state of shock.
"Who are you?" Derek asked. Seeing the young man laying in bed with his headphones.
Max saw his reflection in the door of the mirror and saw a youthful reflection, a glow over his body, a shining beacon of sorts. Derek dropped the coffee he was holding and the liquid spread across the floor. Max remembered it all, how he became trapped in this reality and didn't shift with the others, how he learned to live and adjust and eventually marry a woman who resembled someone he loved. Maybe it was her, that had helped him adjust to this world.
He had been trapped in this reality for a long time now. He had been here in this reality for over 50 years. He could feel the wave approaching, he was shifting and he knew it.
Max turned to his grandson and smiled. "Can you give Peri a message from me?"
The youth just nodded in disbelief.
"Tell her..." he started and paused because he didn't know what to say. "Tell her 'Bingo!'"
And that's when he disappeared in a blinding flash of light.
20131212
REALTIME PICS
At the Diner - Max, Suki, Scorpio, Riveta, Stone
Outside the Diner - Max and Simon
Selfies - Donnelly and Mayganne / Suki
Max and Suki discuss who is driving.
20131211
DAY THIRTY 22:00PM
Yum
They were sitting there in the diner, sipping coffee and chatting. It had been nearly 24 hours since the events had occurred.
Max sat at the end of the table, close to the window.
His fingers drumming out the beat going through his head. He didn't know he was doing it, though it made for a ambient sound throughout the diner. The ashtray dancing on the table, adding a crystal cymbal sound now and then. Music was pumping through his veins.
The waitress strolled over with a full coffee urn in her hands; she didn't even have to ask if they wanted more and she began refilling each of them.
Max, Simon, Riveta, Stone, Scorpio and Suki were all tired, going on 2 days without any real sleep at all.
All of them knew that they had things to do and people to see but they could do that tomorrow. Right now, it was just time to sit back and enjoy each others company.
As the last of the coffee was refilled Max said, "Thanks, Alice."
"No," the waitress replied with a smile and a wink; she began dropping creamers onto each of their saucers. "Thank you, Max."
DAY THIRTY 10:55AM
Homecoming
Father Donnelly drove the car down the dirt road, heading toward the chalet. He didn't want to do so, but it was what Suki had suggested.
The morning sun was warm and inviting and his mind was flooding back to memories of the last month; it all had felt surreal like a dream. More akin to a nightmare.
Since his window was down, he thought he could hear the sound of children playing ahead. But that was impossible, since the fire...
"How long have I been asleep?" a voice asked in the backseat; it startled the hell out of him.
"Mayganne?" Donnelly hit the brakes and he turned to see her lying in the backseat, covered in a blanket.
"Yes?" Mayganne said as she sat up. She looked at Donnelly, trying to read his expression.
Donnelly's memories were like a tide, a floodgate of emotion, garble, transmissions of things that happened, or will happen or a dream of happening. "Well, how are you?"
"I'm fine," Mayganne replied as she scrambled over onto the front seat. "But I sure could use a coffee."
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