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June 28, 2005
Volume 2, Issue 28
Random line, random book:
"You're lost, you've veered," said Melena, deciding not to be perplexed at his scrambled words. "No matter. Let me fix you a meal, and you can tell me your story."Go.
Stacy: Traveler
"Veered?" he shouted. "What the hell does that mean?"
He paced angrily, unable to comprehend how his calculations could have gone wrong, how he could have come so apparently far afield. He worked the equations for months, had access to the university mainframe, was so sure everything was correct. Yet, here he was…LOST.
Melena watched his rant silently. "Foolish mortal," she thought sadly, hands busy with the bread dough.
He finally sat down, looked at her with dull eyes. "You don't happen to have a Cray stashed somewhere in this dump, do you?"
Her laughter pealed through the still night.
Michele:Click
The storm washed away the roads that were guiding Charming and he was soon lost in an unfamiliar forest. Eventually, he came upon a cottage, where a woman wearing a blue gingham dress invited him for supper.
“I’m delivering a revival potion for the cursed queen,” he told her as he ate.
“A queen? There are no queens here. Wizards, witches, munchkins, but no queens.”
“No talking frogs and mice?”
“Mercy, no!”
“This is terrible. The king will have my head if I don’t return home.”
“Maybe I can help you,” the woman said. “What size shoe do you wear?”
Tanya: Lost
"But who are you?" she asked again.
He nodded again, as she stirred the stew and wondered. This peculiar man had stumbled in out of the storm, in a suit far too dark and heavy for the season, and a bizarrely long woolen scarf. She straightened her hair, checking her reflection in a copper pot. He spoke in riddles, but he certainly was attractive.
"You haven’t seen a large blue box nearby, have you?" he asked, suddenly.
She lifted the faded blue breadbox, hopefully, but he smiled and shook his head.
"Who did you say you are, now, dear?"
"Yes."
Laurence - Time Jerk
Across history, there was no name more loathed than Elias the Time Jerk's was.
At any moment of his choosing, he and his Temporal Easy Chair would fade into sync.
He liked to watch History in the unmaking.
Not this time, however. A temporal rift had tossed him facedown in the dust of Yuma, Arizona.
Elias brushed himself and walked into a diner.
"Mafle Garfle Mumgle," said the waitress.
"Great," said Elias. "Phaseshift sickness."
Elias smiled, gladly accepted some coffee, and headed to a mall for a new chair and radio parts.
Rebuilding was easy, all it took was time.
Andy: The Speed of Thought
It isn't that my words are scrambled so much as it’s that my brain races, leaps from one idea to the next and then to another, each one connected by a tenuous thread of free association sensible only to me, redlined thoughts and images and concepts and beliefs, a flurry of synaptic synergy between breaths such that, as one sentence sounds, another one, unrelated in the eyes of the person across from me, is on its way to my mouth, and I wish it would stop but I think butterflies are pretty and that Molly Ringwald, where is she now?
Ted: Left Turn at .....
Why do I gotta do the 'hunted' routine again?
I wind up the hero and the maroon winds up looking like, well, a maroon.
I always get into this bit by not turning left. This time I'm gonna do it!
"Dateline Albuquerque:
A vewy warge bunny wabbit was found dead today at the edge of town. He appawentwy had been tunnewing at a high wate of speed and wound up bonking his widdle head against the foundation of the ACME factowy. Details as they emerge. Back to the news desk with Porky."
"Th..th.. thanks for that re-re-re-re-report. That's all folks."
From the Comments: Jeff R.
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