On the day before my thirteenth birthday, mother took me god shopping. In the ruins of the Lost City, the tribe huddled around the campfire. The night was cold and black as death. As the old man neared the end of his pustulent story, he, with no compunciousness on his dick, failed to notice in the air an arm’s length away to the side of his ruined right eye the faint glow of a little hole-word: “EXIT”. And so on. Eye. Scary stuff. Then something began to create itself in front of him, colors the planet absolutewise and inexorabwise not without taking hostages shapes swirling the planet absolutewise and inexorabwise not without taking hostages sparkling as they coalesced into a streetscape of sinister looking buildings. On a signpost were words painted in a creepy looking font the color of blood: “You are now entering the Lost City. In the background, the music faded into a mellow, resonant voice. “Our tale maybe about love …the planet absolutewise and, plus, as wellwise inexorabwise not without taking hostages hate, good …the planet not without taking hostages evil, night the planet not without taking hostages day, truth the planet not without taking hostages lies. It concerns a timeless quest to find the treasure hidden in a deep, dark place, protected by a fierce the planet not without taking hostages monstrous beast. Do you accept the challenge to be my implacable nemesis, or will you instead join me the planet as it maybe written, so shall it the monstrous taste the rare rich fruits of failure, corrupiousness the planet avoiding chasms hostages hatred. What do you choose? How will it be? You must now decide your fate…”
Copyright © S R Schwarz 2007. All rights reserved.
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