Which one is more intriguing?

Choice 1

I protect. That is what I do. I live in California. This is the year 3000. I not only am the protector, but I am a rebel. I fight with a brisk anger because that is what is inside me. I hate bullies. I am an agent to big companies. I know big CEO’s. I know their grudges, because I kill them. I ride along the shoreline in my pickup truck, looking along the horizon. That’s me out there. I’m expansive. I’m vast. I can do whatever I want. I don’t love, but I do feel. I feel anger. I feel the longing for freedom. I want others to feel the same freedom. I felt it was my time to unfetter these lands. A land of financial gain and financial destruction. I didn’t want to be a subservient individual. I wanted to be a man on my own. So that is why I am here. That is why I do what I do. I murder but it is for a reason. I live for a purpose. 

So as I continue down this broken road. The shore line collapses my spirit. I reflect on my life, that is so vivid. I think of the man I used to be. I used to chase the stars and crowd the shores. I used to take the hand of my imagination and see what tomorrow brang. I was searching for meaning. I was a lost star. I was meandering through life, falling under the weight of destiny. I saw a lofty goal to become successful. I wanted to become my dad. He was my all. He acted as a rock. I can get real sentimental, when discussing his importance to my life. He carried me through life. He was never home, but I had always felt his presence. He made me the man I am today. So I continue even further, until I reach my place of residence. It is placed along the shoreline. A small shed, painted with a fresh coat of white paint. I put all my essentials in there. A bed lie in the center of the floor. I had always felt at home when I sat down upon it. When I sat down on the front of the mattress, I looked out the front door, and could see the people cherishing their lives. They skipped in matrimony with the sun, and had caught sight of moon before it ever rose. I wanted that happiness, that freedom. Maybe I have it, but I don’t feel it. My life, was about living in the middle. The path between right and wrong. I reached for my gun case, and pulled out my shotgun. I placed it on my lap and began cleaning it. What a magnificent weapon it was. I had killed three men with this. It was my go to. As I was just about done cleaning it, Ronald, my supply man walked in. He wore his cowboy hat, and jean shorts with such confidence, I never bothered to question it. 
    “Hey, Ronnie!” I said as I rose and embraced him
    “How you doin’ George?” 
    “Not quite.”
    “What’s that?”


    “My name isn’t George.”
    “Was I close?”
    “My name’s Red, Ronnie.”
    “Well, I’m sorry pal. Let me make it up to you. I’ve got something in the back of the truck for ya.”
He led me out the shed and on the fresh sand. I could feel the rough sand in the sole of my shoes. The burning sun, baking my skin. In the back of his truck was an array of deadly weapons. 
“You weren’t lying.”
“Well, Red you deserve the best.”
    I walked closer and grabbed an AK-47. 
“Where’d you find this beauty?”
“It’s a secret.”
“Alright Ronnie, I’ll get to you one day.”
“Maybe one day, but today is not that day.”
    We smiled at each other. 
“Well, I’ve got to go. Take care Red.”
“You do the same.”
    He drove off, drifting through the sand. These could do me good. I couldn’t wait to use them. I was just waiting on my next assignment. Typically my phone rings non stop, but it’s been quite lately. This makes me suspicious. I walked back into my little shed, to layover for the night. When the next morning came, I heard the seagulls breaking over the shore. I heard the ignition of the many tunnel cars. I’m not one to use that transportation. I guess you could call me old fashioned. I like to keep my head low, but my awareness high. This was my land. I like to think I own it. I control the business that comes in and out. I kill the middle man. The smell of concrete surged into my nostrils. I smelt as well, burnt rubber from the repair shop I passed. The people walked around the city, with their vibrant colors, their ear pieces, and their phones attached to their ears. My truck had failed me and I needed a check up. I drove into the open garage, to be met by Terrance. He wore a conductor hat, and striped pants. He had always wanted to be a train conductor. He was an odd fellow. He had an odd accent as well, that I could never tell where it was from. He always had a lump of gum in his mouth, and was obnoxious with his chewing. He had a certain distaste for my kind. We had a run in one time. I make this business run smoothly. The business of a city, can be evil, but I’m willing to carry it out. 

    It was a stormy night. I got a ring. It continued to ring. I rose up from my bed. I could hear the rushing waves crash against the shore. I picked up the phone and answered. 
“I’ve got a man.”
    Those words always triggered something within me, like I was programmed to spark with energy with the utterance of them. A command of destiny called. The man on the other line, was the owner of a big corporation; “Cars and Trucks.” I know dumb name. He made all the profit in the world, believe it or not. That corporation was about the only place to buy a vehicle in a span of a hundred miles. This man,knew me well. When he had a middle man, he didn’t take a liking to, he called me first. He gave me the operational details. I was to bring the man to him, alive. Something I had never done, that is to leave someone alive. He gave me the suspected address. I complied. The address, for some reason didn’t ring a bell. I should’ve known. I rode my truck all the way over to that address in a hurry. I was to impress. This was my chance to get paid big. When I arrived on the scene, a sudden lump in my throat froze me. My palms began to sweat. I was anxious, I was worried. I recognized this place. The shabby walls, the wood panels that overhang from the roof. The flickering sign out front. For once in my life, I stopped. I didn’t want to carry out the job. I knew that man in there. I promised to myself, if this day would ever come, I wouldn’t hesitate to continue. If I ever hesitated to act, to me that would risk getting caught, and I couldn’t get caught. So I shook my head, and continued on my mission. The lighting bolt flashed behind me. I pounded open the garage door. 
“Open up.”
“Why should I?”
“I’ve got a special message for you.”
“Do I know you?”
“I’m sure you have.”
    The garage door pulled open. I saw his boots first under the door. Then his striped pants. Then his ragged shirt. Then I saw his face. Then I couldn’t do it. 
“Oh hey Red!”
“…hey, Terrance.”
“What’s a matter?”
    Then I felt again. Voices told me to do so. I clinched my fist. He noticed. I knew because I saw fear in his eye. I socked him right in the face, and while he was falling, I grabbed him by the neck. I got a better hold of him, by wrapping my forearm around his neck. I choked him out. I saw the struggle. I felt the pain. His veins pulsing through his neck, and heat radiating from his brow. He gargled through his pain. Then he let go. I held him as he fell to the ground. I wrapped him in a bag, and threw him into the back of my truck, and drove off. 

Choice 2

    The colors rushed by. Steam rushed past my ankles as I walked down the sidewalk. People chirping, and birds nowhere to be seen. This was a new age. I remember when I was a kid. I saw this new world being constructed. I saw the concrete being poured. I saw the trees fall. I saw my neighbors house go. I saw my house go. If you weren’t connected, then you weren’t alive. You weren’t alive. That’s what defined me. I was the latter. To be in the now was the only thing that mattered. My job? My profession? Well, that part is complicated. It depends on the day. This month, or well how I feel. This time of the year I am typically a photographer. At least people think I am. The hipsters of this age like the sound of it. So they buy in real easy, when I act like I know how to hold a camera and such. I mean, you grow a mustache and they’ll pay you thirty bucks on the spot. It makes it easy when no one really knows your name. I didn’t go to college. Look, I didn’t even go to high school. I dropped out in middle school. I’m so cool. You should see my resume, very extensive. That was my attempt at sarcasm. I’m not very good at it, if you can’t tell. I’m not very efficient at many things. Most people figure out my act in about a week or two. 

    So that’s the basic run down. Cool right? Want my autograph? The alarm rings. I stir out of my evening attire and decide it’s time for breakfast. I live in the upper quadrant of the busy downtown city of Metropolis. That’s right, I’m freaking Superman. No, of course it’s not Metropolis. It’s New York. I moved out here when I was a young kid, thinking I could go somewhere in life. I saw it before in the movies, read it in the books, saw it in the pictures. My main goal was to write. I write everyday, in my makeshift journal. I wanted to become a best selling author. That’s right, I was a chick magnet back then too. Well, as you can tell this dream of mine didn’t really pan out like I thought it would. I don’t understand why identity is so important in society. It seems to mean nothing. It seems as if everything is so uniform. Everything is so cliche. I just don’t understand. I typically start my evenings with a good ole bowl of cereal, and a side of disappointment. Sometimes I find the first to have run out, then I just end up eating more into my depression. Those days suck. Sometimes, when I get my television working, I like to watch (surprising, I know). I like to watch the people discuss their issues and argue on the unimportant. I heard one lady argue over the color purple. I believe the man on news called her sexist for even arguing over the color. The whole discussion made no sense, but I was intrigued. When I was bored of the spontaneous arguments, I rose from my shaky table and placed my bowl in the sink along with the others. I looked out the foggy window and saw a patch of green grass. It was the last square of grass I know. I refreshes me to see it everyday. If it went away I don’t know what I would do. 

    I live in a vacant hospital. At least, I hope I do. I’ve been living here for a couple of months. I live off the grid, so I wouldn’t know. I get visits from my good pal Ted. He normally flies through the window, of my room. We have decided along time ago to never discuss the personal details. So the only thing I know about him, is what he decides to tell me. It’s a tractable mold. We can morph the reality, with what we make up sometimes. We question ourselves, if we should give a little more, but we both agreed upon the danger of it. We thought that if a time arose where we were to be kidnapped, or of some sort, we couldn’t put the other in danger. It’s an odd precaution, I realize but we think that there is always room to be precautious. The world has become less, and precautious. The world has become fragile. We have blinded ourselves. I know you might not think it is now, if you are from the past, but now it is a reality. The year is 3000, we are all connected. The cloud. The cloud. Everything is in the cloud. People’s details, deepest secrets. We stay on social media. Uploading annoying baby photos, political rants, and posts about the game last night. Our lives our on there, except mine of course. I made it my goal not to be. The only person I trust is Ted. He knows my name: Bill and I know his name, that is all we need to know. The year has begun to be too gracious in technology, to notice the world. Of course the major problems are gone. That is all fine. No cancer. No world hunger. We are all given a spread amount of financial aid. So we are doing well. I have no take in that. Society is given, through the grid. The grid is my enemy. So I stay clear of it. 

    So the morning comes. I have eaten my cereal. I have, well, that’s about all I have done. My friend flew through the window. I should probably tell him to knock next time. 
“Hey.” Ted says panting
“Hey?” I said with a raised eyebrow
    We sit on my sofa, staring at the bare wooden walls. 

Check out my new book! Out now:



Not even close to finished but here’s a piece of the whole

That was the last line. That line inhibited fear. I was afraid where it would go from there. My worst fears came true. Sparks rose. Fiery hearts. Burning characters limping through the room. I was fastidious at first at my anticipations of how far this would go. These flames amassed the room we had stayed in so long. A fight commenced. Fury. Blood. I’ve had no expertise in this situation. I have had no knowledge of where to go, where to not go, where to put my passion. These people now were infused into whatever my mind made them out to be. I saw individuals now. 

Then suddenly I saw death. A shot through the window stirred chaos. IT whistled past my ear and trailed through the individual next to me. I dropped to the floor. I heard another shot. I saw it trail through the air again. It now was in my sights. I was stunned. I couldn’t move. It was destiny. Lucky was I that it hit my arm. I suppose, that is luck. I assumed I would be fine. It grounded deep into my skin. I didn’t notice the others. They were laid on the floor. Scattered about the room, lifeless. I crawled under the window, in fear of another shot. I closed my eyes aggressively. My eyelids twitching, my heart pounding through my chest, my palms sweating. I was tempted to just stand. I was tempted to let some odd entity end my life. I didn’t. Instead I stayed hidden, like always. I stayed put so long, I decided to give names to the lifeless beings in the room. 

A DREAM: A story from the heart

I am set on the floorboard of a car, while the others look out the windows, anxious of being caught. Everything is black, the car, our clothing, the sun. The only thing that is illuminated is our faces. I attempt to stay calm, but their anxiousness evokes a troubling spirit within. I begin to breathe heavy and my hands tremble.

“Hey.” one of them whispers down to me


I look up and I find him. His face is blurry but his voice very clear.


“You have to calm down. They are coming for us.”


I abide and attempt to calm myself. I lie on my back looking up at the blank skin of the car. I close my eyes but I still hear the mumblings around me. I am polarized by the chaotic melancholy thriving in this atmosphere. I can see an abstruse light emerging under my eyelids, and I hear a hard pounding near my feet. I feel it is elusive as I feel my way around it, and very deceiving, as I can’t judge its purpose. I presume its danger. I settle myself in the dread, the abyss. I know its over for me, it is just a matter of time. Then the whispering around me digressed. They diminished as the pounding became more apparent. I was extremely overwhelmed. I heard a whistle and a quick bang. It was over. I opened my eyes. Whatever had threatened me, or whatever had been looking for something, had been lost. The darkness crept away. A amber light executed the absence of upbeat notion with its own tune. The outer coating of the floorboard a dark purple. The car lights above me now opened their occult eyes. It seems an onslaught ensued while I was dormant in my mind. I looked around and had found the liquid of life roaming over the car seats and covering over the floor board more and more. The windows that seemed tinted now open themselves up as more clear frames to the outer world. I pan over to the back window, as I lift myself up. The window was too graphic for my eyes. I was paralyzed. I was jarred. Their was the thick yolk of life trailing down the window. A bloody handprint had pressed its emotion at the time, so aggressively in the very center of the frame. I felt a thick lump in my throat. There was a profusion of thoughts, an immense collection of choices to select from. I was too overwhelmed to do so. I heard the whispers again. I closed my eyes and found myself in this dystopian lab of misfit culture. Mohawks and long hair were the choice of fashion around these parts. I stand close to a large window. Inside the large window is flowing water that begins to rise to the top. I step forward and see people swimming. They all float so elegantly. Their hair slithers through the water. Around me I see empty picture frames and I notice there are no doors. Vibrant colors paint the walls. A clown stands beside me.


“Beautiful isn’t it?”

I agree and begin to step closer to the window. Then in an abrupt manner I am thrown into that world. The water engulfs me. The rushing water pounds my ear drums and my eyes fog for a split second. I feel like an outsider. They all have so much rhythm and poise in this vast, ever so moving world. I smile though, because I see the beauty of it. I hear a clangor behind me. I swivel around to face it. It is that odd clown. He is smiling and waving in my direction. I do the same. He turns his back on me and walks away. Slowly his image diminishes. I am left to figure it all out on my own. The world around me sang a subtle tune that I enjoyed. It soothed my soul. I prayed to the Deity and he congratulated me for stepping out. I smiled. He told me to follow the tune. I explain that my communication is at times uncouth, and he reasons with me that, is just a small glitch. I am humbled by the scale of the land I am in but I am not afraid. I swim out.

Create a New Tab

A subconscious consensus that I’ve  come to, is that we want more. We meditate on progression. We concentrate on movement.


So the mountains move yet we stay still. So the clouds move and we stay observing the open sky. So the cruise leaves and we settle on the waters. Imbecility shudders the optimistic man. Self loathing becomes a mandated skill, you rely on to make conversation, to live, to breathe. Vicious minds violate the prerequisite mind. We tumble and fall. We shout and cry. We loft the illusions. In the mind of a believer of truth, weariness coincides. Abruptly we cast out our wishes but we see no charm. Sometimes life requires a new tab. Sometimes that search engine is compiling too many search results.


Some ramblings, that is all.

The End

We slowly moved closer. Our warmth surrounding us. I thought I was an intruder in their worlds, but I was mistaken. I was welcomed. So we sat and stared out into the horizon. I had reconciled life and performed its duties. I had escaped the masked culture of my mind and could now proudly step into whatever I wandered into. I was quite content with where I was now. I loved it. I couldn’t quite put my finger on where it was going to take me but I think that was the picture I was looking for. I had found compassion in the oddest place. I had found love. The one feeling I had thought too fragile to compassionately hold. It was in my hands now. Her body lay next to mine. Her sister Harley pretends to barf and I laugh. It is done. My life is done. It is whole again. If it was ever even whole in the first place.


The roomy air of the library had commenced my emotional reconnection with reality.


“So how is it?” I asked


The librarian smirked.


“It’s wonderful. It’s perfect because it’s yours.”


I settled my pencil down on the desk.

Chapter 5 Emanate

So I touch the sun. That is apparent. I voice my appeals and the stars write my story. Remarkable the light. Remarkable the delight it gives me. The frolic clouds below. I can see them with an eery eye. I feel at home in the darkness. I still have a part of me at that island. That island out at sea. The slave that wandered the island was a companion I wish could see this. This view of the world. He seemed to like things like this. I wonder what he is up to now. Maybe I will never know. Maybe the friendship was just in my head. Maybe it was just another appeal in the court of thought. The jury was my eyes and the judge was my heart. I had always walked the road. The road of rhetoric. The rhetoric nature of life. It spoke to me in a soothing manner. An umbrella of thought had always dissipated any motivation to step out into the real world. I had always enjoyed the stories I read. The authors, the writers. I wanted to be a storyteller just like them. The world I could create. The stories I could share. I wanted to be a part of it. I wasn’t sure of where I would start. This is a mystery for which still conquers me today.


Chapter 6 Emanate

I woke up from my dream. The bus was still moving. The hard surface of the window pane plastered a headache upon me. I was juxtaposed by the world around me now. I was a paradoxical image of the life I wanted and the life that I chose. I curtailed what I wanted in my head. A drafted checklist. I wanted to find an outlet. I wanted to find an outlet. I wanted to find the love of my life. I wanted to wash away the pain of the past and live in the present. So I shouted at the bus driver.  The bus halted abruptly and everyone stood and looked back at me. They uttered vulgar phrases thrown towards me. I collected my thoughts and courage, and proceeded to the front of the bus. I suffered greatly in my mind. I was hoping to get past the obstructions of life now. I was hoping to now be able to live out instead of in. I punched the driver square in the jaw. He fell from his seat and I opened the bus doors. When they opened I squeezed through them. I had tripped over the last step and fell straight on my stomach. The asphalt burnt my skin and I lay there for a while. The crowd of onlookers through the bus windows could be heard through the thin walls of the bus. The entropy that filled me. I lie in the velocity of the beating heart and the running veins. The visual conquered me of a life progressed through abruptness. A life of spontaneity. My eyes widened and my breath stirred. I jumped up to my feet.

To me, another window had opened. Another journey to follow. I would risk my life to rebel against the world. A yelping cry turned the buses silence over. I searched the crowd to find a young woman. This sparked my curiosity. .

“You alright, mam?”


There was no answer.


I called out again. This time the young woman walked out of the bus. She swarmed me with her elegant beauty. I saw the same eyes that I sported when I had left. The broken, fragmented hope that rounded the iris and the sprinkle of destiny that gave it its color. She was unique for sure. I wanted to get insight into her mind. The streetlights facilitated a gesture in my heart. They flickered along this asphalt road. I felt a rejuvenated sense from this woman. A sense that baffled me.


“Uhm. What’s your name?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m curious?”

“Why are you talking so loud?”

“I am?”



The onlookers through the bus continue to look and whisper among themselves.


“They don’t matter.” she said

“What’s that?”

“They don’t matter. All I care about is you.”


Well, that was a little strong. A strong woman that expressed freely her opinions. A woman who suited her beauty as a tool in her tool belt. This was magnificent to see. A individual in a mass of standardization. The tests. The schedules. The small talk. She had something more. It was like clockwork the way her body moved.


“You want to go?” She asked

“Go where?”

“Anywhere but here.”


Of all the stories I had read. Of all the plot lines that I followed ever so attentively. This was the most interesting. I wanted this ever so much. I didn’t want this to slip from my grasp. This moment was mine. This moment was here, and I would take striking advantage. I would scramble through the best lines to voice. I would ordain a perfect man, to step forth to break the seemingly concrete ice. I would never let go because in this moment I would mark my own life. This would be whatever I make it.


“I love you.”


Darn it. Well, pack up the bags boys we’re going home.


“I do to.” She said


Well, this is quite odd. What now? Shall I continue this serpentine path and risk the outcome. As far as this road goes I’ll go because for a lack of a better words, I’m desperate. What would you prescribe? Well, I suppose I am on my own and will reap the benefits and am sure will feel the consequences sooner than later.


She smiled. That twinkle in her eye ever so present in this moment. I followed suit with my best attempt at a romantic smile. She laughed. We stood there motionless for quite a while. We stared into each other’s eyes. We looked into each other’s books. We read each other through, the foundation, the furnished walls of our heart, the background, the morals, the ethics. We watched every move we made with an attentive eye.

“I approve.” She stated

“Okay….What now?”


She turned her front foot and started jumping up and down. Her hair cascading through the air with an artful rush of movement. I watched in shear amazement. What was this? Before I could ask her the purpose of this odd presentation, she turned and ran. I looked behind me at the past. The past that had been my story. The story that had scribed a dull schedule. Even though this new chapter seemed to be inane, to be sort of maniacal, to be immutable in its direction. I was fine with it. I was content in knowing that I was stepping into a new. A new land uncharted that isn’t pondered in my imaginable mind. I voiced my concern in the uncharted land and it called no worries back in my direction. I now had the urge to run. I had the urge to run after this moment. Run after the feeling of life. This girl was something new. A story that I can’t explain. I will leave my heart open to this cryptic inscriptions. I will be gone tonight with the power of love. The story of my life has not been set, but it sure is starting to move. I step with the prevailing urge and bound with energy. With every step I could see an emerging future. A future that pounded with the beat of the drum and walked the paved road of generosity. I walked the roads of my mind. I could see her face. That pristine smile that glamored hope and joy. I could hear her charming voice rumble through my ear canal and could feel the strings of my heart strung. This was the excitement of life. Was it that simple? Was it simply love that I was looking for?

We ran through the night. I never became weary. It seemed the adrenaline had continuously fueled us through each strain of energy. It was emotion that welcomed me into this world of prolonged stamina. It had interjected into my spirit with a addictive grace. Pouring out was the yolk of my youth. The smiles. The joy. The imaginative ventures. The wandering forest. The rocket ship. The superhero capabilities. These had all seemed to be sane rationalities in these moments. I had opened my arms and wrapped my arms around it. She rest her head on my shoulder.

She again says, “I approve.”

I had come to love that line. She was the one who had approved of me. Someone had welcomed my qualities as whole and pure. She accepted me as who I was. In this moment. In this moment I knew what I was to do with the rest of my life. I was to take her into my loving arms and kiss her under the beating stars, and sculpt our names into the horizon. I was to set this as an eternal structure.


The next morning I found myself waking before the break of dawn. We had slept through the night under the stars and the tall trees. The humidity made me sweat. I could barely see through the darkness so I decided to try to go back to sleep. The attempt failed so I sat there waiting for the light to come again. A jaunty sun rose above the depths of its undertaking and it hit the darkness with its immense power. I sat there crossing my legs over each other. My head lay against the trunk of an old tree. I now see the girl lying behind me. She laid quiet for quite some time. I again marveled at her beauty. Then out of nowhere a beautiful voice spoke to me.


“Why’d you punch him?”


I turned my head around and saw the girl I had talked to yesterday. I was extremely puzzled.


“Who’s that?” I questioned


“My sister.” She said nonchalantly


“So why’d you do it?”


“I’m not quite sure why.”


“That’s cool. I would’ve done the same thing.”


We sat there talking about random things. She would discuss how she had plans to become an inventor and change the world. Her sister on the other hand held her back. Her sister always wanted to travel the world and since she had been recently diagnosed with cancer, they both had taken on this venture. I on the other hand felt selfish in saying I was doing this for myself. This was a rational feeling I assume, but the feeling downplayed the goals I had in mind. I wanted to change the world too, but I just didn’t know how I would do it.


Very suddenly the sister lying on the solid ground arose from her slumber. I decided this would be a perfect moment to ask for their names.


“Good morning!” I stated ever so awkwardly.  “And what would be your name?”


“What?” the sister now asked as she walked toward me.


I promptly stood up and walked towards her.


“I’m sorry. I can ask you both another time. I was just curious of your name.”


She walked straight up to my face, gave me a quick crooked smile and punched me in the face.




“That usually works.” She said


“What usually works?”


I observed the landscape and came to an open trash bag. I was taken back immediately. The bag was full of wallets, keychains, rings, etc. I was transfixed. I felt empty inside.


“Was all that a lie?” I directed towards the girl I knew better.


“I’m sorry.”


“How so?”


I ran. I turned and ran. This wasn’t going to happen to me. The only people I had known had been minor pictures on the wall only to be taken down shortly thereafter. Everyone I knew always had a story that I didn’t like to read. I mumbled my way through the forest and found the beach. Just like my dream I saw a hut. This time I felt no comfort in knowing where to go. I saw no man underneath the hut and no boat. I was tackled from behind.


“Get off of me!”


The two girls helped me up.


“I’m Jackie.” The girl on the left said.

“I’m Harley.” The girl on the right said.


There was no glaring difference between the two unless of course I heard them express themselves. Their personalities were very different but on the outer, physical frame there was none.


“Happy now?” They both said in perfect synchronization


I nodded my head.




I tried to walk around them but they blocked my every move. All these women do is provericate. I am certain that is their goals in life. I am almost certain that this girl, whichever one that might be, is not an inventor nor does her sister have cancer. I felt angered by the inescapability of this situation but I had realized for a moment that they were all I had. They might be ruthless murderers for all I know but without them, I would be alone again and that I can’t stand. We all walked to the beach and sat by the shoreline.


“You can’t tell us apart can you?”


I shook my head.


“Figured. Look, Harley has a cut on her forehead. You see it.”




“Simple as that.”