Sixty-four was today's number. They all knew this. They all knew the doors would open soon. The real question was what that meant. Would it be at 6:40? Would it be the sixty-fourth person? Would it be sixty-four people? Each of these possibilities had its own unique, terrible, and possibly terrifying set of consequences, and they weren't sure how to prepare themselves. No option seemed to be a good one. In the end, they knew all they could do was be ready to take of any opportunity that came to them, even if it seemed there would be no recovering from their unthinkable compromise. The doors opened.

Let the sales begin.

As he sat down to write, he considered the type of story he'd like to tell. A humorous one? One filled with sorrow and pain? Perhaps a deep, thought-provoking self exploration. He pondered and considered. After some time, he realized the best story would be the one that plumbed the very depths of his heart, that summed up his experiences, his existence, his very soul. He thought for a moment, then began to write.

Wun day i went to the store with mom and bot sum nise apples. 

I ate wun and mom said i cud have mor later and then we went hom.

I playd with my dog and i playd with my frend Bob. we playd a looooong time. It was fun

then i was tird and went to bed.

THE END

When the young lad saw the wagon, he knew must someday be his. Its shiny exterior, its soft wooden interior! This was truly a tool of the gods themselves! The boy yearned for this wagon, he didn't just want it, he needed it. Unfortunately, it was truly a tool of the gods themselves, and they didn't like sharing.

It came and then it went. It went and then it came. To and fro, back and forth, never ending. What is this thing that simply goes and comes, comes and goes? This is the question asked. Is it a pendulum? The tides? The orbits of the moon? The planets? The galaxy? The universe itself? Is it a tiny atom, vibrating in its place? An electron? What is this thing that comes and goes, goes and comes? This is the question asked. The answer is simple.

When the mood strikes you and the will and determination are there, anything is possible. For instance, just yesterday I decided I wanted a sandwich. But I had no bread! However, I was very determined to enjoy a delicious sandwich, so I pushed forward and persevered. I decided I wanted a hot ham and cheese sandwich, and set out to obtain one. The first step was simple, I went to a family-run farm and got a job as a farmhand. I worked there for several years, all the while arranging for the demise of the owner's family, while bringing myself into his good graces. This accomplished, I waited several more years for the farmer to die and leave the farm to me. Now, with a working farm, I was easily able to slaughter a pig and butcher it for the ham of my sandwich, which I salted and allowed to become delicious. While that process progressed, I started a small cheese making operation on the side. I used some of the wheat from harvest to make wholesome and delicious wheat bread. Now, supplied with all the ingredients, I was able to make a hot ham and cheese sandwich.

If I can make a sandwich, just imagine what you can do it you set your mind to it! Just
don't make the mistake I did - I wasn't really in the mood for a hot ham and cheese sandwich the day I finished it.

I wanted it to be true. I wished it were true. I needed it to be true. But it couldn't be. I knew it couldn't be. There was no way. She wouldn't do that, I know it. And even if she somehow got it in her head that she would, they wouldn't let her. So... it's not true. All signs point that way, I can feel it in my gut. I mean, why would it be? Wasn't it really just a dream a month ago? How could it gain more weight now? It couldn't - that's how. Right? I mean, it was just a dream, wasn't it? None o it really happened or even came close to happening, right? Right. It was, and that's all there is to it, there's no reason to keep mulling over it - it was impossible from the start. Damn.

I wish it were true.

There once wa a man who loved his food. He didn't overeat necessarily, he just enjoyed the food very much when he ate it. One day, he ate a truly delicious meal. So delicious, in fact, that he wanted to get another helping, because he knew it would be just as good, if not better for his continued appreciation of the meal. It had already been one of the top meals of his life, why not a little more? He considered this question, he pondered, and wondered, and thought. He eventually came to the conclusion that he should get some more. Unfortunately, by that time, the meal had long progressed and there was no food left.

There once was a lad who was quite taken with a lady friend of his. He was often tempted to tell her how she felt, but could never work up the nerve. One day, he went into a jewelry shop and bought a lovely golden. He couldn't give the chain away after not giving it to her, and he couldn't just throw it away, so he kept it. He kept the chain for the rest of his life, in case he saw her and could then give it to her, but he never did.

Everyone knew it was a harmless tradition. It was a little creepy, but the students of the high school had been doing it since as far back as anyone could remember. It was rarely spoken of, but was easily tolerated and was rrely even mentioned any longer. Until this year, a student did some research into the roots of the tradition and was horrified to discover its dark past and its implications in the present. This student tried to speak out against the majority opinion, tried to bring the terrible truth the light, but he was dismissed as a fool. One lone voice stood ot against everyone else, those who might have listened were afraid of becoming outcasts by association with him.

Boy, did he look silly when he found out he was wrong.

"Hmm, licorice."

"Licorice?"

"Yeah, licorice."

"What about it?"

"Well, I find it delicious."

"Good for you!"

"Yeah, I thought so."

When I grow up, I wanna be an astronaut. I wanna fly up into space and see the Earth really tiny beneath me. In my mind it's like a shooter marble out the window. I wanna go on spacewalks outside the ship and fix it. I wanna look around and see how big the universe is and count the stars. I wanna walk on the moon where there's no gravity and JUMP! I wanna float around in the ship and eat my dinner out of a tube and drink Tang. I drink Tang anyway, but I wanna drink it in space It can float around like bubble of Tang in space. I want to throw em and ems at other astronauts! I wanna do experiments and help the scientists back on Earth. I wanna talk to Houston and tell him that everything's A-OK up here.

When I grow up, I wanna be an astronaut. Or maybe a fireman.

"Why did the chicken cross the playground?"

"I don't know, why?"

"To get to the other slide! Ahahahahaha! I'm brilliant."

"You know, I've heard that one before, I was jsut humoring you."

"Oh."

There once was a man who like to build card houses, towers, and various other structures - even furniture and statues! He built each one with exacting precision and absolute attention to detail, and each was beautiful when finished. Oftentimes, he would employ as many as five or ten decks of cards. He had a open, but unventilated room of his house dedicated to his hobby, as he lived in constant fear of a draught toppling his creations. Even so, he lived in an earthquake zone, so every now and again, a tremor would cause a tower to collapse in on itself.

The man contemplated this dilemma for some time, and realized that the best solution would be to carefully glue his constructions together once they were complete (doing it before would be cheating). And so he set about stabilizing his lastest work - a card throne. As he worked, the fumes from the extremely powerful but also extremely toxic glue began to cloud his mind - the lack of ventilation in his breeze-proof room was not working well for him. He shrugged off his discomfort and continued his work late into the night.

Finally, he was nearly finished, he leaned across the chair to glue the last card of ornamentation down and collapsed into the chair, twisting to sit in his throne, whose extremely powerful glue held him up. The last card fluttered down from its place and landed face-up on his lap. It was the three of diamonds.

"Can we go?"

"I'm not really interested."

"Please?"

"Well, alright. But I'm doing it for you."

And she was, but he'd make it up to her later.

There once was a young lad who aspired to no great things. He did well in school, but didn't put forth the effort to be outstanding. He then went to a good, local college wheree he earned a bachelor's degree before going to work for a company that facilitated sales of various products form manufacturers to retailers. Over the years, he advanced to a senior management position, mostly through his seniority. During that time, he married and had two children, whom he loved very much. All his life, he was fairly happy. At the end of his days, he looked back and thought, "Yep, I've had an alright life. It was pretty good, yes it was."

When they discovered his crime, he was immediately arrested. The trial did not take long. He plead guilty - he'd been caught red-handed. His sentence was not a short one. But even after all this, he remained cheerful. The prison guards were haunted by his smile, as was the judge. 'Why is he so happy?' they wondered. The question wasn't hard to answer. He'd let himself get caught. In prison, you don't have to sleep exposed in the freezing cold or wonder where your next meal's coming from. Instead, you're kept fed and clothed, and are sometimes indulged with things like paper and pencils. You barely have to take care of yourself, instead, you have all the time in the world to dream, and think, and plan. He was happy indeed.

"Ok, now!"

He did it.

"Wow, that's spectacular."

"It really is beautiful."

It really was beautiful.

Once a man bought himself a house. He didn't have much money, but he believe in the power of appreciation and made the investment. This house was a real fixer-upper. The paint was peeling, the door hinges squeaked, the roof leaked, and the entire thing smelled of cat. He bought the house under the table, to keep inspectors from messing with his transaction - he would make it safe during the restoration.

However, he spent most of his money on the house and couldn't afford to keep renting his apartment, so he was forced to move in. One night, a strong gust of wind blew the house right over, killing him nearly instantly in the collapse and teaching him, too late, the value of a thorough safety inspection. On the bright side of things, the demolition nearly doubled the lot's value.

There once was a girl who dreamed the whimsical dream of floating on the gentle winds of spring on butterfly wings. She saw herself fluttering from flower to flower, tasting the distinct tastes and smelling the unique smells of each. She would be precious, and delicate, and loved by all. One day, she wished for her dream to come true and tossed some change into a wishing well. Her dream magically came true, she was a butterfly!

She set out for the flowery fields and feasted on both the flowers' beauty and her own. She could hardly believe how wonderful her experience was until she began to feel hungry. She began to flit from flower to flower, trying to fill her tiny, hungry, butterfly belly. She soon discovered that not only do flowers taste bad, but that it takes a lot of effort to fly, and that she was very tired. She landed on a leaf to sleep, but unfortunately for her, the bat noticed.


ALTERNATE ENDING

There once was a girl who dreamed the whimsical dream of floating on the gentle winds of spring on butterfly wings. She saw herself fluttering from flower to flower, tasting the distinct tastes and smelling the unique smells of each. She would be precious, and delicate, and loved by all. One day, she wished for her dream to come true and tossed some change into a wishing well. Sadly, her wishing well was just a well, now polluted with dirty coins.

A dapper youngster once declared, "Sorry for the lack of updates! Stories will continue after MLK Day. Until then, check out the archives or something."

What an odd thing to say.