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October 16, 2006
Tanya: Tragedy
The crowd bustled quietly as they waited for the outcome. Everyone had taken a side in this torrid, if not uncommon, battle. They crowded in small bunches, whispering about this latest drama.
The town leaders returned to their seats, shushing the curious audience effortlessly. “We understand the issue, and have given it great consideration. We have chosen not to prosecute, finding no one at fault, and this occurrence will hopefully soon be forgotten, so no reputations will be unnecessarily sullied.”
A small voice whined from the front row, “But she stole my idea to blog about Jessica Simpson last night!”
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October 17, 2006
Tanya: Fight or Flight
Kate found the big hole in the bridge
As her car passed right over the edge
But she shrieked as she spied
The big hairy naked guy
Who placed her safely back on the ridgeBeth's whole life outlook was dire
As her apartment was consumed by a fire
But she was so filled with loathing
For her rescuer’s lack of clothing
That she nearly fled back in the pyreYou see, Hugo could fly through the air
But only when perfectly bare
And he found to his haunting
There wasn't much wanting
For a hero with nothing to wear
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October 18, 2006
Tanya: Refugee
“Don’t walk if you can ride in a jeep, men. A tired soldier is a dead soldier. And don’t waste your energy digging foxholes. The Krauts are on the run, so use theirs.”
The words rang in Tom’s head as he crawled across the battlefield behind the slowly retreating Germans. Escaping to the 20th century had been his only option, but he now wondered if he hadn't gone from the frying pan into the quantum heating apparatus. Trying to recall from his ancient history lessons what little he knew about this “Georgie” fellow, he slipped feet-first into the next hole.
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October 19, 2006
Tanya: Set Sail
It’s 7am, and I step outside and hail a taxicab. It’s April, but still cold, and the wind pulls at my cloak. My sister is watching my daughter, still asleep upstairs, as the cab rushes me to the docks. Edward left an hour ago. I leap from the cab and run to the ship, up the gangplank, where I must introduce myself, Sarah Eleanor Smith, to these new stewards who don’t know me. They let me pass, and I run to my husband’s side. I didn’t come last time. This time, I’ll fix it.
“Darling, let’s take the southern route.”
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October 20, 2006
Tanya: Road Rage
I heard him coming before I saw him, honking at someone behind me, yelling obscenities out the window, like anyone could move any faster. Just a moron having a bad day, and intent on ruining everyone else’s. When he sailed up the breakdown lane, I wanted to kiss the semi driver that cut him off and forced him back onto the highway.
But when we finally reached the cones ending his lane, I let him in. No, he didn’t deserve it, but I saw the sheepish little wave, and it pleases me to know that he feels like an ass.
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October 24, 2006
Tanya: Time Enough for Lunch
She paced the kitchen nervously, wringing her hands, as her husband worked on the odd metal contraption in the den. “Frank, do you remember reading The Veldt in Miss Presley’s English class?”
“Sure, hon,” he replied distractedly, tinkering. “Empathic house, self-cleaning, where you could go to Wonderland or Oz, Sweden or Mars. Great story.” He winked at her. “Our new Chronolux won’t quite take us there.”
Their son Tommy whined and griped on the bottom stair, hurrying Frank belligerently. “Yes, the empathic house, but don’t you remember…”
“That’s it. It’s fixed. Come on, Ruth, Tommy wants to see the dinosaurs.”
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October 25, 2006
Tanya: Working Lunch
She heard “Excuse me, miss,” and glanced at him with a barely concealed sneer.
“Miss?”
She ignored him, but noticed that he didn’t leave. He moved closer, slowly. “Miss? I’m with the…”
“Look!” she snapped, “I know it’s a public park, but I’m trying to work. So take your petition or your survey or your begging, and hit the road. Get lost.” She rolled her eyes and turned away.
“Miss,” he whispered, “I’m the carnivore handler from the zoo. I need you to be very still.”
Her eyes watered as the hot blast of rancid breath hit her other cheek.
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October 26, 2006
Tanya: Some Enchanted Evening
“Goddamn these subdivisions, popping up everywhere,” he snarled. “Like fuckin’ mazes.”
“Settle down, wouldya? I’m trying to read the map.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, you little freak.” He crushed out his cigar, swearing again.
“Don’t call him a freak, you asshole. He’s doing his best.”
“Don’t even get me started on freaks, you. Why, your…”
“Oh, are we going to talk about my nose again? Really?”
“Shut up, both of you. I’m getting a migraine. Ask that kid for directions.”
“I’m not…”
“Fine, I’ll ask. Hey, kid!! Where the smokin’ hell’s Trocadero Avenue?”
The boy looked up. “…Santa?”
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October 27, 2006
Tanya: Stillness
“Huh? Oh, nothing. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“But?”
“But, well, it’s just very still. But I’m sure it’s nothing. Maybe they had to go outside.”
“They wouldn’t have gone outside without permission, Bob.”
“No. No, that’s true.”
“Let’s see the other cameras.”
He flipped through the other views, and he was right. We’d been monitoring the space station for over a year, and I’d never seen it that still.
On the next pass, the aft door was open. We both sighed with relief, just a moment too soon. On the final pass, the first of Them oozed into the room.
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October 30, 2006
Tanya: T minus eight days
That’s right. My only goals in life are to make homeless people starve, enlarge the ozone hole, and eat all the caribou around the Alaskan oil wells I’m drilling. I giggle with glee when middle eastern children suffer.
I’m homophobic, racist, sexist, and a die-hard Christian. If they catch me alone and I’m not thumping either a bible or a minority, they might take my card away.
You must really understand me. And you’re so tolerant, trying to get to know me instead of just assuming. Now go away, before I prove that we really are all trigger-happy gun nuts.
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