Thank you for all your hard work

The doctors had formed a circle around their patient in the surgical room. Everyone wanted to see and be part of the procedure. There were several technicians sitting around a computer in the corner, pointing at the screen and mumbling amongst themselves. An older man sat by the door, reading the newspaper with two burly bodyguards standing on either side of him. The room was full of surgical equipment and computers.

One of the people sitting at the computer terminal looked up at the doctors, “I think we may have found the problem.” All the doctors stopped and turned their heads to look at the technician. “Well?” asked one doctor. The technician responded, “There was a loop back statement in the speech processor component, we removed it and need to reboot.” “Excellent” said the doctor. “We can now see if he sounds more realistic.” “Not so fast, we still need to upload the new speech patterns and the pre-written scripts. That should only take an instant” said the technician.

“Uploading now, you can remove the USB and cover the port as usual” said the technician. “Thank you.” said the doctor as he applied the finishing touches. Another doctor reached over and waved his hand in front of the patient. An immediate response was generated.

“What the hell is going on here? Mr. Vice President, what are you doing here?” The man sitting by door reading the paper slowly lowered the paper and replied, “Just waiting as usual, Mr. President. How do you feel?”

“Just fine, thank you. Let’s get out of here. I have to meet with the ambassador from the Sudan this afternoon. Something about sending troops to help out.” "Excellent" replied the Vice President. He turned towards all the others in the room, "Thank you all for your hard work." He and the President turned and left the room.

Tomorrow would be a new day

It was dark in the living room, where she sat and waited. The room was full of older furniture, mostly well worn and comfortable. The pictures of family and friends on the wall and sitting atop the book cases that lined one wall, reminded her of everyone that she cared about in the world.

She sat in the dark, in his favorite lounger, waiting. She was waiting for him, she knew he was out with her and she had had enough.

She was laughed at in the grocery store by some of her ‘so called’ friends. They knew he was cheating, they saw them together at La Italia, the restaurant in town. She never wanted to be laughed at again. She was angry and she wanted revenge.

She looked around the room; the pictures all laughing at her and telling her she was a fool. She married young, had four kids and looked rough. She lit another cigarette. She had always been a smoker, but tonight she found it eased her nerves. She was going to do it tonight. She had threatened him before, but tonight was it.

After arriving home from the store, without the groceries in hand, she went directly upstairs. She slid open his closet door, reached up to the shelf and pulled down the gun safe. The combination was their wedding anniversary, ironic. She loaded the gun and brought it down stairs with her. She placed it in the recliner’s pocket on the side as she sat down. This was it. It was to be over tonight. She got up and fixed herself a drink, gin and tonic. She took a sip, it was crisp and strong. She liked it but then thought better of it. She wanted to be in the right frame of mind. She had run all of the scenarios through her head, all the possible repercussions. She didn’t care.

He came in the back door. He tried to be quiet, it was late and she was probably asleep. He thought it through and knew he had gotten away with it.

He rounded the kitchen table and through the living room door. He never saw her sitting in the chair, yet she saw him clearly in the dark. She aimed the pistol and pulled the trigger. Over and over until the empty chamber clicks were deafening, he slumped forward onto the banister. He was gasping for air as she turned on the lights. “Did you have fun tonight?” she asked as she passed him and went upstairs. She looked at him without sympathy. She turned off the light at the top of the stairs and went to bed. Tomorrow would be a new day.

He tried in vain

He tried to breathe life back into her. His partner was applying gauze to the two bullet holes in her chest, sticking her with morphine, and counting out loud for him. She lay on the floor of the convenience store, spilling her blood throughout the snack isle. She only wanted a soda and a bag of chips. She went in while her boyfriend pumped gas into his car.

He came in with the ski mask pulled down and the gun drawn on the kid behind the counter. He needed the money; he owed the shark and had to pay. He was obsessed with college sports and had to bet. Just one more bet and he was guaranteed a win. This would absolve his debts with Tony, the loan shark. He would quit after that. He promised himself. Fifty bucks or more would do the trick. Just a quick robbery, no one gets hurt and he goes home a winner.

Everything was smooth until she rounded the corner towards the counter. She was reading an article in Teen Beat and wasn’t paying attention. She caught him off guard. He turned and pulled the trigger. She screamed and fell. Life quickly leaving her, she soaked the floor with soda and blood.

He never did get the money. He turned and ran out of the store, forgetting about the money and just wanting to get out of there.

Her boyfriend heard the shots, saw the masked man and dropped the gas pump onto the ground, gas still trickling out of it. He was on his cell phone, calling 911 and racing toward the door.

Paramedics arrived too late, but tried anyway. He tried in vain. He was sure she was gone, but everyone was watching. They put her on the stretcher and wheeled it into the back of the ambulance.

Gone

He sat in the chair with his head in his hands. He felt old. Time had taken its toll. He thought for a minute, he had been to visit her everyday for the last six months. She just continued to get worse, she couldn’t beat it.

The doctors had given her three maybe four months, but she had always been a fighter. She was admitted after the radiation treatments failed and she could no longer keep any food or liquids down. The nurses were always supportive. They looked the other way when he stayed after visiting hours or when he brought the kids. He sometimes stayed all night, sleeping in that chair next to her bed.

Today was different. Not in his visits, he always brought fresh flowers, magazines, the mail, letters and cards from friends and family. Whatever she wanted, but today was different.

She hadn’t remembered. She was weak, could barely breathe on her own. She looked so much older in that bed. She hadn’t woken up when he came in, she didn’t respond to his touch either. The oxygen tube and the equipment surrounding her bed still hadn’t taken away the beauty he saw; she was still 22 in his eyes. Not 47 as indicated in her charts.

He stood up, touched her hand, she was cold. He pulled up the blanket on her and he whispered in her ear, as he did every day, “I love you and added happy anniversary. 25 years today. I’ll be right back dear, don’t go anywhere. ”

He left her in her bed as he went to ask the nurse about bringing the kids back this afternoon.

She left him that day. By the time he reached the nurses station, they were already running towards her room. The alarms had gone off, she was gone.

Lost

Tom came running around the corner of the building and into the alley. He looked around and ducked behind the dumpster placing a busted up box in front of him to try and hide. He knew they were coming, probably four of them. He didn’t have any weapons but he was a marine, he would ambush them and fight like a man. Suddenly, a voice yelled at him from behind him, “Get the fuck off of me and my house, asshole!” Tom looked at him and replied “Sorry man, you must be in country for some time. Look at you, you fit right in, scruffy, dirty and Jesus you smell.” “What?” said the man. Tom looked around, “Got any weapons? I’ve got at least four insurgents following me and I need something to kill ‘em.” “Matter of fact, we can do it together. Wait for the first two to pass us, you jump the second one, use his weapon to kill the first one, then kill that guy. I will jump the third one, killing him and the fourth. Got it?” Then he saw a tin can lid. He grabbed it off the ground and rubbed it against the dumpster to try and sharpen it. “You can use this, slice his throat and shoot the first one.” The man pushed him away and out into the alley, “Get the fuck outta here. You’re fuckin’ nuts!” Tom looked at him with a puzzled face. “Fine, fuck you too! Wait till I get back to base, you’re screwed.” Tom turned and ran to the corner of the building, he looked both ways. He only saw civilians. He hunched down and made a right down the sidewalk. He thought to himself, “I’ll find someone to point me in the right direction back to the base. Fallujah is so fucking crazy.” He looked up at the street sign; he was on the corner of Hudson and Perry. He thought, “We have that same corner back in New York. I can’t wait to get back there.” He disappeared into the crowd on the street.

To all of the soldiers who come home with just a little less then what they left with. May you somehow find peace.

Death walked this way

Death took the form of a woman today. She stepped off the subway at Wall Street and Williams, dressed as a common street walker, no as a business executive. She wore a smart looking skirt suit that would get everyone looking in her direction. She would meet her numbers today, just as she did every other day. She had her list for today, just over a thousand for herself, more then fifty thousand for her disciples. Good thing death was a healthy business. She had so many applicants to work with her; she could easily keep up with the requests, both from above and below. Death had set the contracts back when everything was just beginning, above tried to keep exclusive rights, but death had worded it correctly in the contract. Death was death and no one owned it. Death subcontracted the work accordingly to disciples from above for those headed there and disciples from below for the ones who just didn’t cut it.
Death decided, she would poison the fruit in the market place, she was guaranteed two hundred and fifty from that move alone. She decided on flu like symptoms for the cause. Worked like a charm in Asia. Death had a few that needed immediate attention; these she processed like a machine. Mr. Jeffrey Jones, CEO of World Bank. He was only 47. Heart attack, she thought as she touched him. Mr. Sylvanus Fp`ukk, Directory of the NYSE internal auditing team, he was 62. Cancer, as she blew a kiss his way. Mrs. Shelly Tonkins and Mr. Jack McGauglin, she was 26 and he was 42. Aids for both, that would get those two, their spouses, the mail boy in her office and his brother and wife. Nice one, she thought as she brushed between them. This was going to be a very productive day…

She smiled

He awoke from a very sound sleep with a startle. He sat up and tried to look around. He saw the green light by the door, everything was safe. The alarm on the house was set and he had just had a very bad dream. As he lay back down, he choked and spit blood up. He was drowning in his own blood. He felt around his chest, it was wet. Further down he felt it. Something sticking out of his abdomen, a pen, it wasn’t a dream after all. Shock was setting in and he would be dead in a minute. He tried desperately to wake his wife. She was facing the other way from him and only moaned as a response. He continued to cough and choke. Suddenly it was over. He collapsed, letting the blood run from his mouth onto the pillow.
She opened her eyes and smiled. It had worked. For the last several nights, she had been talking to her husband in his sleep. She would describe the same scenario over and over. A burglar was in the house and he had to fight him off with only the pen on the night stand. Finally, he did it; he fought himself and stabbed himself thinking it was an intruder. She rolled over, checked to see if he was dead, feeling no pulse she turned on the lights and screamed. She got out of bed, went to his dresser, made sure his prescription for prozac was there, and the will that left everything to her was in the drawer as well. She called 911 and in her best frantic voice she explained what happened. She smiled again…

What is watching...

He stood up and stretched. He had been in the backyard since the early morning and with the last of the sun now setting, he was finally able to stand up and not be noticed. The lights came on in the back yard and he glanced toward the back sliding doors for any movement. He had been in this yard several times and could count on the movements of the family inside. Soon, the children would be sleeping and the wife would be upstairs reading, leaving the husband sitting in the den watching tv. So many nights he watched and waited. Waited for the right night to end what started when he was young. He had killed the dog when the moon was last new. No one saw or heard, the little girl came out the next morning to find the family dog laying on the deck in a jumbled mess. He had carefully broken the neck and then with skill that only an avid hunter would have, he open the dog, took out all the vitals, ate them raw and closed the dog up with a fine grass stitch. This was last moon, this moon he was determined to stop this family from hunting him ever again. He waited until the night sky was as black as death before he moved closer to the house. The motion lights never set off, you can't turn on if you don't sense motion. He carefully unscrewed the light bulbs and placed them on the ground. He peered through the window and watched as the man inside fell asleep on the sofa. He entered through the glass slider door and quickly moved through the kitchen. He didn't need any weapons; his hands were twice the size of any mere man. He was sweating, his hair was matted against his body from crouching all day in the woods and he smelled and was aware that the odor may awake everyone. He entered the room with the sleeping man and made his way to the sofa. Leaning over the sofa, he got a good look at what had been hunting him for his entire lifetime. Just as he thought that this man was not much to look at, the man opened his eyes. With the look of fear and death, he picked the man up by the neck with one hand. Gasping and kicking, the man struggled to stay alive. He looked into the eyes of the man, speaking only with his mind, "I have watched you watching me since I was small. You have tried to find me and show me to the world, now I will show you my world." With that he squeezed the neck of the man and his eyes popped out. He was dead in an instance. He placed the man back on the sofa, wiped his hands clean and moved toward the stairs. He knew he had to kill the woman next, leaving the children to last. He had been in the house before, he knew to duck his head when going up the stairs and that the fourth step would creak. He intentional skipped it. Up the stairs, to the right and into the bedroom with the woman, she was asleep, the light was still on, but he crossed in only three steps. He reached for her with one hand and covered her mouth with the other. She awoke and tried to scream, there was no sound. He opened his mind and spoke to here, "Do not be afraid, I am what you are looking for. I will you give you this chance, this last look before I rid you of your life. Do you understand me? She tried to nod her head, but his hand was too big and heavy, she couldn't move. He grabbed her around the throat and squeezed the life out of her just as he had done to the man. He placed her down on the bed and moved out of the room. He entered the hallway and decided to kill the girl next. Down the hall and to the left, he quickly entered her room. She was fast asleep. He picked her up with one hand and pulled her head back like a bottle top. It snapped and slumped forward on her chest. Not a sound. He placed her back in the bed and turned around. As he did, he saw a shadow in the doorway. The little boy was standing there holding his teddy and smiling. He spoke without words, "I am Jake, and I heard you screaming at my father and my mother. Did you kill them? Did you just kill my sister? Why? I saw you in the yard; you had been motionless for the whole day. Did you see me looking at you? Can you camouflage yourself whenever you want?" Jake stopped for a minute, and then said out loud, "Are you going to kill me too?" He stood still, perfectly still and he thought about the events of the day. He did not see the boy but he did feel his gaze in the afternoon. He tried to camouflage himself right there in the room, but there were too many colors. Jakes eyes went wide, "Wow! Now that's cool!" He sat on the bed where the dead little girl lay and spoke his mind to the boy. "I am impressed that you can speak with me, I have never met a human that understood me. I do not need to explain to you what I have done here. I am going to kill you. If I don't you will hunt me as your father did, if not now, then I will kill you eventually. Why should I spare you?" Jake thought for a moment, then spoke, "If you take me with you, I can learn more about you and your kind. I can either exploit you or help you. If you kill me now, the law will only find you later and you will be exploited for sure." Without thinking, he grabbed the boy, running down the stairs and out the slider door into the back yard and into the woods. The boy just smiled as he was carried away...