Karl immediately ducked down when he saw the car slide by. He knew it was not THE one but it still demanded his rapt attention. His normally cloudy eyes were sharp and somehow brighter as they followed the vehicle’s progress down the road and turn onto Pine Boulevard. Presently, the car was gone and he released his captive breath. 

               He had been crouching behind the fallen Pillar for a few minutes, give or take. Felt like hours, of course.  He could hear the blood throbbing and pulsing…

Dowd was not a fool. Not really.  Part of his “Electability” was that he had to portray a certain simple mindedness that would allow him to connect with the common person because they were his target audience. The worldwide social media revolution had given voice and access to all, regardless of level of education or political stake.  The vox populi was starting to talk back to its masters, nipping at the scraps before the meal was finished. Of course, the irony lay in the fact that the public education…

Sonny Malone : Dreams die. 

Danny McGuire : No. No, no, no. Not by themselves. We - we kill them!

- Xanadu  (1980) written by Richard Christian Danus and Marc Reid Rubel

       Kira had been admiring traits from afar for a little over a year.  She was thinking of changing her major, and the qualities this new practice promised were really beginning to nag at her.  A more coherent statement of intent, a solid platform from which to work, and ACTUAL work were all part of the benefit package. When Sonny…

       Doreen was having the absolute worst day. It was always when she had to work that the world seemed more likely to mess with her mood. It didn’t matter how great she felt upon waking or how determined to succeed she was. Some obligatory jackhole would undoubtedly kill her vibe, just like the phone call this morning. Bastard didn’t even say anything at first, she remembered. It wasn’t until the third “HELLO” on her part that made the other side wake up at all. Clear sign the damn thing was a machine…

    
 Hollis Taylor had a Hole in his head. 
      This crater in Mr. Taylor’s cranium acted as an external stimuli filter for his life; a screen that could determine the effect that any potential situation would have and shield him from the damaging and abhorrent biochemical reaction that would undoubtedly result from his interaction with it.  An emotional fire wall, if you will. 
  Although it defended Hollis from the full range of socially accepted mood states, the Hole was particularly adept at shutting…

It must have been the absolute absence of stimulus that woke her. Usually she had to ignore something to remain in slumber. That womblike sensation of insulation, of your interior always pushing against the outside world to stay under, asleep and recharging, was familiar. But she realized nearly at once that something was different this time. This time, there did not seem to be an outside world. 

               Still lying down, and motionless otherwise, she blinked.

              She blinked again.

…

FADE IN

INT. BRIDGE OF STARSHIP- INDETERMINATE TIME

        Fire. An Alarm is blaring. 

       All the alarms are blaring 

        Voices are everywhere, yelling, some crying. The indistinct cacophony of panic. 

        We pull back to see a well maintained but not overly handsome everyman in the foreground of the shot. He wears   the uniform of the organization he represents.

        This is our captain. This is our salvation. 

…

       With Resolution 917, Atticus Dowd delivered a message to the business world that foreshadowed his bid for political prominence; Simplicity equals power. 

        In a world where multitasking is the norm and attention spans are simultaneously broad and shallow, Dowd’s bill was an olive branch to conservatives and anyone over the age that one would consider to be a “millennial” (if you don’t know, get the video.) 

        Although ridiculously unpopular with the public at the time, the resolution…

     “Wooesh,” said the wind. 

      It tugged and twirled all around his body, exhilarating every pore. Although a multitude of images and ideas were ferociously careening through his head, Mr. Dunderton felt more lucid and perceptive now than ever before. He seemed to be taking in everything around him and was able to process what they were and what their purpose was. Dunderton could only dream of such clarity in his daily life. This was amazing! He felt like that word he heard many years ago, the one…

     As much as he detested revolving doors, he was still obligated to utilize them on occasion. Architects of the twentieth century had decided this fate for him; that in every man’s life there would be ONE building that had the atrocious entrances. A fad that has died out presently due to safety concerns, thank god. Franklin shuddered to process the notion of a panicked stampede happening around revolving doors. The ensuing melee of frightened sheep running from peril into the grinding teeth the doors…