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Fred and the ImmortalsJanuary 3, 2008 MaNA Company Heaquarters, Chicago
What should I do? First they put me on paid leave after that incident, and
then they call me here to discuss my job! And here I am outside the Golden
Gates about to stand before the Board of Directors of MaNA.
Fred Oster paced the plush velvet carpet, already a trail forming with each
step of Cleverly footwear. The man pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his
black Armani suit and dabbed at his forehead. Standing guard over its master
was a pristine briefcaseblack to match everything else.
Five minutes to go. Oh man oh man. What if I dont make it? Ive done
everything I could. My suits pressed, my hair neat and combed, shoes cleaned,
tie straight, but what if I have something in my teeth?
Fred dove for his briefcase and frantically searched for a pocket mirror
and toothpick accessory. Flipping it open he smiled and searched for any scrap
of food that might have remained fr
Lucid -- Chapter 1Hey, Jake, you all right?
Yeah, dont worry, sometimes I space out.
Sometimes? We all laughed at this, though mine was forced. I looked into the street as we walked to school. Ghostly images kept fading in and out. Cars with people in them, bicycles, and a few jaywalking pedestrians. I dismissed them as products of a bored mind, like I always did. But sometimes they were a little harder to shake off, like when a familiar face whose name was just on the tip of my tongue carried on a conversation with me then walked away to vanish. I had never seen those people, but they talked in a way that made me feel we had known each other for a very long time.
Dazing out again, Star? Rindle was in front of me with his hands on his hips and a smirk on his purple face. The first time I had met him something made me feel like purple was not a normal skin tone. But when no one else had said anything, I simply chalked it up to personal taste.
Lucid -- ProloguePrologue: Six Nightmares and One Really Old Guy (not the final chapter name, I assure you)
Click click click click
A young woman dressed in the latest teen fashion, ripped blue jeans, ragged black t-shirt with a cutesy pink skull on it, white heels, and enough eyeshadow to make panda bears look twice clicked through the lobby of well, she didnt know where she was. She hadnt seen the outside, and everything except the elevator seemed distorted and hazy if she looked directly at the surroundings. She looked at the floor, shifting between wood and marble every so often, and sighed.
Geez, cant the old man try some consistency? Still better than the ice last week.
She clicked straight to the elevator and walked through the closed doors. The world around her warped and settled to reveal she was sitting in a conference room with five other people at the table, each one of whom had her complete and total respect, a rare thing for a teenager to g
EasterRemember what you love,
you with sand in your teeth
and the feral burn of hunger
in your eyes.
God sends his regrets.
He made you grasping and slow,
in a late hour
when the wine washed low.
Remember what you love.
Fall to your knees in the toss
and the swell, quell
the appetite of the cold black sea.
Beg blessings for your home
and the salt-sick trees.
Reach what lies near:
the fat-faced child, the sweet-soft lamb;
tether the tantrum, trickle the blood.
Offer psalms to what is holy,
whisper the name of what you love
as it bobs in the bleak mad sea.
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