Wednesday, May 15, 2019

Page 88

All my life I've tried to be a good person. I've tried not to lie, cheat or steal. One day at the library I found an abandoned book outside near the trash. It was a small book with no cover. On the first page was a picture of an open heart with light beams coming out of it. The first page quoted: "He who possesses the image on this page is able." Seeing that I was at a point in my life in need of some direction, I was drawn to what this author had to say so I took a seat by my bike near the curb and began to read this old abandoned book. I got to page 37, then I decided that I better get home because I couldn't help but notice librarians peeking through the big windows of the huge building as they prepared to close.
As soon as I entered my one room shack in the deepest part of my imagination, I sat on the couch and continued to read.
"Who would throw such a good book away?" I thought to myself as I continued to read. 
Yawning, I turned to the next page and noticed that it was blank.
"Where's page 88?"
Up to this point the book was so deep that I needed to know more. I could tell the author had a lot on his mind when he wrote it. I mean this guy had answers for everything. Up to this point in my reading, the author makes it known that there's a flaw in civilization and the women for some reason are bringing their children to this man's house but there's no page 88.
I turn to page 89 but I'm missing a key part.
"Why are all of these women bringing their children to this man?"
Curious, I look up information about the book on my phone. I also look up the author but find nothing. In frustration, I throw the book and it breaks the mirror nearest to me on the wall, then I hear a knock at my door.
"Where's page 88?" I whisper to myself looking at my reflection in the broken mirror.
There's another knock at the door.
I move one foot to look and see who it is. The floor creaks on the weight of one foot.
"Who is it?" I ask, but no one answers and I don't see anyone outside.
In deep thought I realize that I have to figure out what this book is really about, what is the author trying to say? I skim through the pages and I hear another knock on the door.
"Who is it?" I shout, sitting in my one room shack on a dirty couch reading a book with no cover. I then slam the book down on the bare floor to see who's at my door but still see no one. Now I'm starting to get freaked out.
"Hello, is anyone out there? What do you want?"
I get no answer.
Now I'm really getting freaked out. Something is wrong. I get a burst of déjà vu while noticing that the mirror is not broken this time and the book is not on the floor, it's on the couch. I could've sworn that I sat it on the floor. Okay, at this point, I've lost it. Hearing a knock on the door, I rush to look out of my small window. There are children standing all around my one room shack. 
I'm on page 88. Feeling my heart skip a beat I rush to the book on the couch and begin reading page 89.
Realizing my fate, I now know where page 88 is. I am page 88. I then open up the door and began to read the rest of the book to the children. I also notice that my one room shack is in a small corner at the library.
All this time I've been sitting in a small room reading to children enhancing their imagination. I then turned to the next page and the story goes on to the next chapter of the book.

Thursday, May 2, 2019

The God of Roses

Oh my, what a pretty flower. The sun has allowed it to grow on my owned and paid for property. Have you noticed that I’m the only one growing this beautiful gift from the sun. How will I share it with my fellow people? Will I charge them? Will I take pictures and sell them? Oh look, it’s god has protected it’s beauty with thorns, how clever. This flower’s beauty comes equipt with a defense mechanism. It’s beauty is deceiving, I shall leave it alone until I find a way to kill it and remove it from my property. Hmm, is the God of humans trying to send me a message or is the god of roses trying to assume the throne? Could they be the same God? What a beautiful flower, I shall cut and and share one with my wife to show her how much I love her. Oh no, I’ve been tricked again.

The God of Roses