It was not the best of times. Oh, hell no. Life was brutal, and it never made a damn bit of sense.
Mankind likes to procrastinate. Technological advances seemingly appear out of nowhere during the most trying times, when a threat of annihilation looms over the heads of every one of us.
The UPHEAVAL lasted for about four decades. Of course, it waxed and waned across the globe, countries and territories each getting swept up in the wake. Intolerance and discrimination are nothing new, and - as per usual - conflict sprung up from out of the warm embrace of peace. The man-eating crocodile that lives in the placid lake.
There were those who saw it coming, someone always sees stuff like this coming. Nevertheless, it was largely ignored. Some paid heed and either tried to warn others in their own little way, while others listened and only rebuked the notion. No good came of listening.
"Was is the UPHEAVAL?”, you ask. Well, that story comes soon, just not today. I need to collect my thoughts, to give it the time and credence a story of this magnitude deserves. It is an important era of history, and it need not be ignored, nor watered down.
whatever you want. Chronicler (The Wise Man’s Fear)
Dr. Hoenikker’s Nobel Prize acceptance speech (in its entirety)
- “Cat’s Cradle” by Kurt Vonnegut
When you make me hate my food, fuck you!
I had heard about The Counter, mostly through their front door; they advertise the Bison burger, with the addition of “building your own” burger.
The bartender was super friendly and very good at his job, but he was also very busy, and there was no room for having the friendly bartender experience for lunch and stuff. Not only that, he was so busy, he took forever just to get his cash for the bill. And he might as well be an advertising droid.
Food was bad, and greasy, boring. Felt like a job, not an experience.
Place was clean, but almost too clean, it’s like they were trying to hide something….
Restroom needed a spot check, or someone failed their roll (game joke).
Parmesan fries, expensive. Avocado, expensive.
Additions were bland or boring.
This place is a tourist trap. An overpriced Subway.
I would advise you leave this place off your list. Go to Umami Burger (never been, but I only hear amazing things) or to the Crepe X-press Cafe, down the street, for a better experience at half the price.
The gun went off as he stood there, eyes wide. Dropping his pistol, he crumpled to the floor of the bedroom, his wife in the opposite corner, a stoic look on her face.
“Somehow, I knew it would come to this, although, you took your time getting here. I figured you might actually learn to properly handle that thing before you used it. That way, we wouldn’t have to have this fucking conversation!”
She looked at her husband with contempt, slowly realizing the circumstances.
Suffering from depression is all too common for American women. Add to that, her incredibly intelligent daughter was off to a prestigious university for four years. The nest was empty, and she had no comfort.
He grew distant after their son died three years ago. The family was never the same. Grief combined with Depression and their daughter leaving for college exacerbated her self loathing. He wasn’t an outlet, that useless shit head.
Her co-worker was there for her. As the son of a sex therapist, he knew what she needed, and he gave it to her…nightly.
* * * * *
His thoughts plagued him as he lie in the fetal position, the pistol a few inches from his hand.
“She betrayed me. She betrayed this FAMILY!” he cried inwardly.
“We were all suffering, helpless, aching for a glimpse of light in the enveloping dark. She was selfish! Couldn’t she see my pain? What kind of monster does this to an already fragile family?”
“How come you missed? What a pathetic excuse for a man, can’t even use a gun and kill your loving wife…” She stood over him, hands on her hips, pity in her eyes.
“You were ten feet away. You could easily have killed me. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Her anger flared, “you disgust me.”
She picked up the pistol and eyeballed it, feeling its weight. She pointed the barrel at her lump of a husband and pulled the trigger three times.
As he lie dead in the same heap, retaining a look of disgust in her eyes, she opened her mouth, inserted the pistol…
…and pulled the trigger.