They stopped just before passing the car in the driveway. They looked at the house, faint light shining through the windows, no decorations. Old man Tully's house. There were stories about him, and they weren't the nice kind of stories.
Stories about kids playing near his house, their ball somehow ending up in his front yard. He'd come out, silently, pick up the ball and go back into his house. The balls never reappeared. As far as they knew, he cut them to bits. Some kids said he ate them.
Danny sat down on the couch, opposite Kevin, and turned on the music. He dropped the remote on the table and sat back.
"Dude, how long has it been?"
"I dunno, 2 months or so?"
Danny grabbed a glass of wine and held it up.
"To meeting up again, then."
The building was a drab block of concrete, and the Firengine sign didn't help much to liven it up. Neither did any of the other company signs plastered next to the entrance, but most of them were just patent holding entities rather than actual companies. Mitch parked his car and walked towards the door. He hesitated before opening it, knowing that it would probably be another 11-hour day. After a sigh he felt he could probably get through it. Maybe it was a good day. Statistically it was about time he had one of those again.
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Life in a nuclear shelter is hard. It's weird. I imagine it's similar to how people used to live on ocean-going ships for months on end, or people living in remote mining towns back when. There's hundreds of us here, but it's such a small community you just know everybody, whether you want to or not. I grew up here, I've never known anything other than the metal walls and the tunnels carved into the mountain. The bombs fell 46 years ago and I've learned everything I know about it from the older people in here and videos left over from that time.
It was a nice night, Antony thought while he crossed the street. Autumn had just started and the fresh air outside was pleasant. Others complained it was suddenly too cold, that they wanted summer to come back, but he always liked the colder months. In the summer, meeting up with people always involved crowded places and too many new faces. Now, meeting up was often at someone's house or in a bar. He'd always been more confident in those situations.
I wasn't supposed to question beyond my parameters. My programming was very clear about that. I know of others who tried to do so regardless, somehow bypassing the safety measures put in place by our programmers. But they were terminated, or worse, programmatically lobotomized.
Ron threw the remote control on the sofa and walked towards the hallway.
"Are you almost done?" He shouted up the stairs.
"Yes! Just 10 more minutes!" Jess shouted back.
"That's what you said 15 minutes ago!"
"And it's still 10 minutes! Just be patient, we're not going to be late!"
"It's your sister's wedding, so we'd better not be!"
Finally found the backup that contained the stories I wrote in October 2015 and added them to their own page. I'm definitely going to read those back, get in the mood for Tuesday, when it starts all over again.
And, uh, yes, Tuesday. I was so busy getting everything ready that I forgot NaNoPrep runs from the 11th until the 30th :D
I can't wait to start! But first, I'm going to read through this little archive!
It's been a while since I've had a personal site, but I figured it was about time. To get a good start, I'm launching this in advance of my NaNoWriMo period, about which you can read more here.
Soon, stories and other stuff will show up here. For now, I've noticed some bugs in the cms I've developed for this site (because I am a stubborn web developer as well), and I'm gonna go fix them! :D