Finally completed it, please read it everyone, and tell me what you think, I came up with this story when I was fifteen and skating at a bank by the lake, I guess I've always had these thoughts lol

Story one- I Was Gonna Throw Her Over The Mountain Side It was a rain day. Pouring, torrential rain. Damn sure, I wasn't gonna paint any edge line today. Rain days are the best. No work, no responsibilities and plenty of bars and booze to drink. We was in Virginia, Gods country. Let me tell ya something about Virginia, try and find a flat place to park. The whole goddamn state is on a pitch . Beautiful beyond a doubt, and the women reflected that as well. I'll tell ya something as well, I love me some women, yes sir I surely do. All kinds, big ones, small ones, tall ones and my favorite, the easy ones. I decided I'd go down to my favorite bar, The Hickory. Cheap beer and easy women. Oh, another thing you should know about me, I love to smoke crack. Tastes like America to me, ya know what I'm saying? Gets me moving and grooving baby. Good time Charlie, baby, good time Charlie. Yessir. So I make my way down to The Hickory. Slam a couple beers and a couple shots. Starting to feel good. In comes my type of woman, thick and easy, haha, yessir. So I walk up to her and I says," How you doing beautiful, can I buy a drink?" She smiled, crooked teeth and missing half of em. Don't bother me none at all. "Sure.", she says. "Well alright then, let's get this party started." We drink a few drinks and I ask her, " You like to party? Like rock or soft? Can you get some?" She smiles and says," Yeah I party and I get some, I'm a working girl though, you understand?" "I surely do, yes ma'am, I surely do." So we leave, hop in my truck, go to some ghetto area and she grabs some rock for us and we head back to the motel. I likes to call em, the motel,no tell, haha, yessir. We get up to my room, and we're moving and grooving, doing our thing. Smoking, drinking, dancing. All of a sudden this broad starts have a seizure. And I mean a bad seizure. She's shaking like goddamn Michael J Fox all over the floor and all of a sudden she stops. Keep in mind, I'm in total and absolute shock. I don't even know this broads name.

New York,2050, ( a newspaper article) 𝔑𝔢𝔴 𝔜𝔬𝔯𝔨 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔰, 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔫𝔢𝔴𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔷𝔬𝔪𝔟𝔦𝔢 𝔞𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔰𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔶 𝔦𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢𝔰 𝔟𝔢 𝔰𝔞𝔣𝔢!!! 1,010 years later 3040.april 19 my name is Evelyn and I'm the only person 𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙄 𝙖𝙢 on the planet everyone died from the affection. my day was normal I fight zombies again. I went back to my base and I fell asleep and dreamed of my parents but they died 5 years ago? **in the dream** Evelyn wake up!! wake up wake up!!!!*** those where not my parents at all I wake up to a zombie trying to kill me!...but then..I actually wake up...in a white room?...oh yeah that's right I'm still here in the hospital.. by Cambria!

The Integrity of War By Kathleen Tonn “Son, you shovel that side of the driveway, and I will shovel this side,” Ryan instructed his twelve-year-old. With those words, each picked up their shovel and began the arduous work of removing the five inches of snowfall covering the length of the thirty-eight foot driveway. Ryan calculated it would take at least two hours to clear the snow. He and Styles wouldn’t even have to shovel if his snowplow truck had not blown a gasket. Ryan stacked his shovels of snow near his wife’s garden. He caught Tina peeking out the window smiling at him. She then pointed towards Styles. Ryan looked over his shoulder at his son. “What are you doing making a snowman when you are to be shoveling?” he asked with a hint of exasperation in his voice. “I thought he might like to watch us shovel,” replied Styles with amusement. “I am going to give him my shovel, so he can be my proxy,” exclaimed the freckled boy. Ryan wasn’t sure if he heard Styles correctly. “Say that again.” “I am making him a proxy. He can shovel for me, so I can go back inside an play Fortrite. Is that okay with you Dad?” “No, that’s not okay with me. Pick up your shovel and get back to work,” demanded Ryan sternly. Styles did as he was told. He quickly picked up his shovel. While standing in front of the snowman, he saluted the lop-sided fellow. Then, Styles returned to his side of the driveway to resume shoveling. The two quietly worked. After ten minutes, however, Ryan asked Styles, “Where did you hear the word proxy?” “On Fox News last night. The retired general said Iran uses a proxy in war. That way the government can be sneaky.” Ryan stood up and looked at his son. In the warmth of the sun, Styles looked like his mother, but his mind was clever like his grandfather. It became clear to Ryan the work of shoveling could be both a bonding moment and a teaching moment. “Styles, give me your understanding of what a proxy is,” Ryan calmly requested. “Dad, it’s when other people fight others, so a country doesn’t have to. Like, I wanted my snowman to shovel, so I wouldn’t have to.”

The Logo By Kathleen Tonn I searched the magazine rack at Barnes & Noble. From lifestyle, home décor, finance to body building magazines looked back at me. The magazine I was hoping to find was not on display. For all I know, the magazine doesn’t exist. I should explain. I had a dream last week where I saw an unusual logo. The logo was on the cover of a magazine. I clearly saw the intricate, yet, crisp shape that formed three letters upside down. E, X, and B were graphically outsized on the front cover of a finance magazine. The letters were colored in pigment I’d never seen before. As an acrylic painter, I was familiar with the color shades. However, the logo I observed in my dream had indistinguishable colors I can’t even describe the colors. I would just recognize the logo when I see it. I walked out of the bookstore disappointed. I really hoped I would find the magazine with the logo on the store’s rack. I thought Barnes & Noble carries all magazine publications. I opened the door to my Subaru. It was my lunch hour. I had just enough time to get a bagel from The Bagel Factory. I drove out of the parking lot still thinking about the unusual nature of that logo. At one time I worked as a graphic artist. That job required me to do the artistic work involving company logos. Maybe that’s why I had the dream. Perhaps that logo hasn’t been created yet. Moreover, maybe that particular finance magazine doesn’t exist yet. Many times my dreams pertain to future events. Time tables that are not clearly defined. When I receive a dream that stands out as significant, the dream always remains in my conscious awareness. Like a computer program searching for that missing data point that completes an algorithm. I ordered my bagel. So delicious. Plain bagel, alpha sprouts, avocado slices, crème cheese, pepper jack cheese and tomato slices. I chewed the bagel thoughtfully Again, the dream content running through my mind. I will continue to pray about the dream. Perhaps God will bring that logo before me during some meeting. Or maybe, he might want me to design the logo as I saw it in the dream. The specific type of magazine is integral to the logo. A finance magazine. Certainly, finance and our volatile economy rub elbows.