the beauty of Linda
fiction
edward w pritchard
The beauty of Linda seemed to grow each year and now at age 18 she was nearly irresistible. Linda perfectly fit our cultures expectation of beauty.
Each night Linda had the same reoccurring dream. If during the day Linda saw an old woman, that night as Linda dreamed the same old woman would be sitting or standing talking to someone and Linda would be watching and half listening from afar; as a sort of Omnipotent observer. Each night, in her dreams, Linda would eventually see the second person, who the same old woman Linda had seen in reality today, was now talking to in her dreams. The second woman, a pleasant looking 75 year old woman, was of course always Linda, although the first woman changed nightly, depending on who Linda had seen earlier in the day.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Tidwell the mediocre writer
Tidwell the mediocre writer
fiction
edward w pritchard
Hidden in the writings of Tidwell Owen was his legacy to posterity. Hidden in over two thousand mediocre poems, published for as little as five dollars each; was Tidwell's threat to cause a catastrophic event sometimes in the next 4 years of his death on July 07, 2011.
Tidwell had died of natural causes and Mr. Penson, an agent with the FBI in Cleveland Ohio had received the ransom note. The ransom note was delivered by Fed Ex, addressed to agent Penson and there was a scholarly tome to the message; but the message was the most terrifying...
end part 1
fiction
edward w pritchard
Hidden in the writings of Tidwell Owen was his legacy to posterity. Hidden in over two thousand mediocre poems, published for as little as five dollars each; was Tidwell's threat to cause a catastrophic event sometimes in the next 4 years of his death on July 07, 2011.
Tidwell had died of natural causes and Mr. Penson, an agent with the FBI in Cleveland Ohio had received the ransom note. The ransom note was delivered by Fed Ex, addressed to agent Penson and there was a scholarly tome to the message; but the message was the most terrifying...
end part 1
the man who only put it in writing-part 2
the man who only put it in writing-part 2
fiction
edward w pritchard
see part 1 available when envisioned
So even though both men, Voltaire and Rousseau were extremely different in approach and sensibilities both arrived at the same conclusion concerning personal communication. They decided to communicate with the world, and this included friends and family, primarily in writing. For myriad reasons some economic of course and some concerning simple expediency, editing and storage of ones thoughts became paramount.
Two Frenchman, both connected with the seminal event in Modern World History, the French Revolution, and two men of different age who didn't care for each other, downplayed interpersonal voice lead communication and instead both choose the written record as the way to go. Forerunners of texting or just ahead of their times in general. It's one way to go, their methods that is.
end part 2
see part 1 soon
fiction
edward w pritchard
see part 1 available when envisioned
So even though both men, Voltaire and Rousseau were extremely different in approach and sensibilities both arrived at the same conclusion concerning personal communication. They decided to communicate with the world, and this included friends and family, primarily in writing. For myriad reasons some economic of course and some concerning simple expediency, editing and storage of ones thoughts became paramount.
Two Frenchman, both connected with the seminal event in Modern World History, the French Revolution, and two men of different age who didn't care for each other, downplayed interpersonal voice lead communication and instead both choose the written record as the way to go. Forerunners of texting or just ahead of their times in general. It's one way to go, their methods that is.
end part 2
see part 1 soon
money is nice but
money is nice but
fiction
edward w pritchard
Money is nice to have but the more of it that there is squirreled away between you and the events of your life the less spontaneity there is in your existence. Still it would be nice to have have a cushion between us and the gales of fortune.
As we attempt to blanket ourselves and our love ones from the risks of life we elaborately plan and insure to no avail. Like water flowing through an old hose under pressure the forces of nature prevail and there is a leak revealed. We cannot secure our existence or those we love.
Luck is good to have. Money is a comfort and real shield. Life is without meaning or purpose it seems; it just unfolds and neither luck nor money can ultimately protect us from misfortune which statistically occurs randomly but catastrophically at times.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Money is nice to have but the more of it that there is squirreled away between you and the events of your life the less spontaneity there is in your existence. Still it would be nice to have have a cushion between us and the gales of fortune.
As we attempt to blanket ourselves and our love ones from the risks of life we elaborately plan and insure to no avail. Like water flowing through an old hose under pressure the forces of nature prevail and there is a leak revealed. We cannot secure our existence or those we love.
Luck is good to have. Money is a comfort and real shield. Life is without meaning or purpose it seems; it just unfolds and neither luck nor money can ultimately protect us from misfortune which statistically occurs randomly but catastrophically at times.
Monday, October 4, 2010
space ship ride
space ship ride
fiction
edward w pritchard
Subject eventually cracked up because he claimed there was no direction in space and he wanted to go west not east.
He kept writing in the space logs that he remembered when there were only six hundred humans left. That would be 35,000 BC according to him.
The directive, according to him, agreed by all was that all humans, the last six hundred survivors of the race must travel east for so many miles and then north or south, but after going North or South at their discretion, they must travel west. That was the directive and all the remaining six hundred original humans had agreed to it. To ensure proper dispersion of the remaining humans.
Subject was an American traveling in Space for the rest of his life. He trained and agreed to the lonely journey, for Science, for the benefit of his Country. Now he has abandoned his principals and cost our countries space program a lot of time and money. He claimed he was having dreams about his ancestors and the original directive.
Subject can not be reasoned with. He claims he must determine if direction exists in Space so he can reorient himself and fulfill the original directive.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
Subject eventually cracked up because he claimed there was no direction in space and he wanted to go west not east.
He kept writing in the space logs that he remembered when there were only six hundred humans left. That would be 35,000 BC according to him.
The directive, according to him, agreed by all was that all humans, the last six hundred survivors of the race must travel east for so many miles and then north or south, but after going North or South at their discretion, they must travel west. That was the directive and all the remaining six hundred original humans had agreed to it. To ensure proper dispersion of the remaining humans.
Subject was an American traveling in Space for the rest of his life. He trained and agreed to the lonely journey, for Science, for the benefit of his Country. Now he has abandoned his principals and cost our countries space program a lot of time and money. He claimed he was having dreams about his ancestors and the original directive.
Subject can not be reasoned with. He claims he must determine if direction exists in Space so he can reorient himself and fulfill the original directive.
end
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Journey with me
Journey with me
fiction
edward w pritchard
Journey with me back across the ages to when we lived in the Lake village. On the water, near the shore on platforms of elevated poles in a small community. One entrance to the abodes was disconnected at night for safety and guarded by one or two teenage boys, chosen on a rotating basis.
It was breezy on the lake and cozy. You were near your family and at night you watched the stars and tried to remember the movements of the moon and planets for they seemed significant. When you slept you slept deeply and secure and you had many dreams. Sometimes in the morning you would talk about your dreams. Around the fires, as the fish cooked and the bird eggs sizzled someone might interpret your dreams and you might listen carefully or you might laugh with others for dreams were not the only things you talked about sitting with those you cared about in the early morning breeze along the Lake.
Sunrise came everyday and you watched the sun rise up into the sky. At night, a mild wind made small waves around the village. If you were on guard duty around the entrance ramp you sat by a small fire and talked till midnight and then slept lightly, unafraid, but vigilant for the village's safety depended on you.
Sometimes you went to shore and journeyed by land to gather valuable rocks to use for cutting tools or to look for fresh crabs and clams for special meals. When you brought them back pretty girls would serve you steamed fresh seafood cooked by skilled chefs.
If you were old you helped with the children. If you were sick you ate lichens and mosses that grew in marshes full of healing minerals. When you died they pushed you toward the middle of the sacred small lake nearby on a burning raft and everyone drank fermented beer and watched the sky for shooting stars that would take you to the next life.
When you were born again later you didn't remember that previous life but it is distantly familiar to you. You can almost remember your partners eyes and soft skin or holding your Father's hand when he died. Sometimes you look up at a sunset or see the moon reflected in a drop of water and unexpectedly hear the voices of the ancient language you and friends used to whisper in when you watched for shooting stars at the sacred burial lake.
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
Journey with me back across the ages to when we lived in the Lake village. On the water, near the shore on platforms of elevated poles in a small community. One entrance to the abodes was disconnected at night for safety and guarded by one or two teenage boys, chosen on a rotating basis.
It was breezy on the lake and cozy. You were near your family and at night you watched the stars and tried to remember the movements of the moon and planets for they seemed significant. When you slept you slept deeply and secure and you had many dreams. Sometimes in the morning you would talk about your dreams. Around the fires, as the fish cooked and the bird eggs sizzled someone might interpret your dreams and you might listen carefully or you might laugh with others for dreams were not the only things you talked about sitting with those you cared about in the early morning breeze along the Lake.
Sunrise came everyday and you watched the sun rise up into the sky. At night, a mild wind made small waves around the village. If you were on guard duty around the entrance ramp you sat by a small fire and talked till midnight and then slept lightly, unafraid, but vigilant for the village's safety depended on you.
Sometimes you went to shore and journeyed by land to gather valuable rocks to use for cutting tools or to look for fresh crabs and clams for special meals. When you brought them back pretty girls would serve you steamed fresh seafood cooked by skilled chefs.
If you were old you helped with the children. If you were sick you ate lichens and mosses that grew in marshes full of healing minerals. When you died they pushed you toward the middle of the sacred small lake nearby on a burning raft and everyone drank fermented beer and watched the sky for shooting stars that would take you to the next life.
When you were born again later you didn't remember that previous life but it is distantly familiar to you. You can almost remember your partners eyes and soft skin or holding your Father's hand when he died. Sometimes you look up at a sunset or see the moon reflected in a drop of water and unexpectedly hear the voices of the ancient language you and friends used to whisper in when you watched for shooting stars at the sacred burial lake.
end
Friday, October 1, 2010
want ad-part 1
want ad-part 1
fiction
edward w pritchard
career board
Energetic loner capable of working for sustained periods without supervision. Be a Barnacle.
Barnacles are the last individuals. You will be in charge of an entire NCCVB underwater facility off the coast of New Jersey, a 200 million dollar facility.
At NCCVB we promote from within and due to recent promotions we have a rare opening.
Job description
manage and watch 25,000 or more urns in an underwater facility, previously called graveyards or mortuaries. Urns contain the deceased and require infrequent but necessary maintenance. Barnacles are "old salts". You will an spend 18 month shift sealed in our state of the art facility. [You will be the only person there]. After the shift 1 month paid vacation off site is given. Each future shift of twenty four months results in one extra month vacation per shift served.
requirements
MBA business or computer science, previous background in negotiation highly desirable, bi-lingual in Spanish a plus, must have recent employment in undersea work
Background, credit score screening and proper attitude toward corporate America
This is a temporary assignment, no benefits, must provide own sustenence during shift
compensation
draw- 9.00 per hour times eight hours per day guaranteed
fiction
edward w pritchard
career board
Energetic loner capable of working for sustained periods without supervision. Be a Barnacle.
Barnacles are the last individuals. You will be in charge of an entire NCCVB underwater facility off the coast of New Jersey, a 200 million dollar facility.
At NCCVB we promote from within and due to recent promotions we have a rare opening.
Job description
manage and watch 25,000 or more urns in an underwater facility, previously called graveyards or mortuaries. Urns contain the deceased and require infrequent but necessary maintenance. Barnacles are "old salts". You will an spend 18 month shift sealed in our state of the art facility. [You will be the only person there]. After the shift 1 month paid vacation off site is given. Each future shift of twenty four months results in one extra month vacation per shift served.
requirements
MBA business or computer science, previous background in negotiation highly desirable, bi-lingual in Spanish a plus, must have recent employment in undersea work
Background, credit score screening and proper attitude toward corporate America
This is a temporary assignment, no benefits, must provide own sustenence during shift
compensation
draw- 9.00 per hour times eight hours per day guaranteed
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