ALVIN-STALVIN

              Co dependency, is termed offensively. What was meant to be has eventually been sent to me, to set me free. no longer will I defensively, suffer jealousy, this world we see, once again makes sense to me. with a child like magic, invisible, yet physical we birthed a statistical miracle. we're cynical, and clinical, but the evidence is empirical, Co-incidences nominal, yet; conceivably impossible, illogical and certainly not probable, fate is the only explanation that the indication, I got from you. was the sensation of elation, that your radi

"Well, since you've got so many questions, and I don't have the time to answer them all, perhaps you'd like to watch the induction video?" The receptionist offered. "I think that'd be best." Simon figured it couldn't hurt to be more informed. "Right this way, then." The receptionist lead Simon down a small hall, off to one side of the foyer. After passing a few doors, she found the projector room and led Simon inside. "Could you hit the lights? Then take a seat, the film will begin shortly." Simon flicked the light switch, then sat in one of the many fold-out chairs positioned in front of the wall-sized screen, and waited in the darkn

The Calacorp building was much the same as its surroundings. The only thing that set it apart from the buildings flanking it, were the large gold letters spelling "Calacorp" which adorned its bleak exterior. Ed was surprised he hadn't missed it, despite its obvious logo. With a flutter in his chest, he realised he was about to find out who he was. Ed looked at the front doors and realised neither had a handle with which to open them. Confused, he decided to take a closer look. When he was about 5 feet from the doors, they slide open, scaring him. Still perplexed, he pressed on. As he crossed the threshold, he felt as if he'd suddenly walked i

Sonya had been part of the resistence for 3 years... How dare they send her on a simple courier mission? She should be out with the guerilla squads, getting back at the Calacorp scum. The resistance had taken an unfortunate turn for the worse, since their anonymous leader had sent word he was going away for an indefinite amount of time. Prior to his evacuation, he would leave his orders in dead drops. Sonya had, in fact, been sent to pick up his final orders, and wept upon reading that he was leaving them. After all he had done, all they had accomplished under his strict rule, he was leaving them. She felt betrayed. That pain was made worse

It must have been the dripping. Or was it the hum of the near by air conditioning unit? Whatever it was, it woke him from what felt like a thousand year slumber. Instinctively his hand came up to his head, which was throbbing with the dull ache of a migrane. He thought that, possibly, it was a result of his 'thousand year slumber'. After a short time he opened his eyes, only to be greeted with the painful onslaught of light against ex-comatose retinas. Again, he was choking back pain. After his eyes adjusted to the light, he propped himself up and slowly came to his feet. His suroundings were dank and morose. He was in what looked to b

time, is fluid. like the ebb and flow of water so too do the seconds drag back to the ocean of time, then rapidly the days crash forward like a torrent, washing you down your path of fate. the most curious thing is, why is the passage of time circumstansial? universally a second is but a tick on the clock, but at one point can seem to last a life time. i'm sure some scientist type could explain the inner workings of the perception of time to the human mind. i suppose people never really appreciate the time they are given till they stand clutching the last few grains left, desperately reaching out to prolong their insignifcant existance. even

what is it, to make a choice, flip the coin, roll the dice? to speak out with unwavering voice, pure, succinct, concise. but to reach the point to choose, one must first analyse, to walk in all others shoes, see through all others eyes. everything is valid, nothing left unthought, making sure no sordid, reasoned actions wrought. for all the avenues, only one can be right, it is that one that you choose, knowing which is the plight, for what is life, but a series of hard descisions