life

The Albino Bearded Lizard Wizard

The albino bearded lizard wizard’s not a lizard at all.
In fact, he’s a boy, albino and bearded and he stands quite tall.
He does have a lizard, albino and bearded, who answers the wizards’ call.
Nightly laughter they both share atop the garden wall.
~
The lizard too is a wizard and a monster he’s often called.
Their youth remained for centuries; maturity was forestalled.
Each knew they were different, both glad to have a friend.
But time was ticking forward, their childhood was soon to end.
~
Graduation day finally came, the students waited on their stool.
The beasts too had graduated and now feasted by the pool.
The awkward albino bearded pair huddled in the shade,
They both laughed together, surprised they made the grade.
~
The worldly wizard queen then gave her graduation speech.
Her awestruck audience listened as a proclamation she did screech.
“All wizards must be prepared for a battle yet to be named.
The dragons were disgusted and wanted the humans tamed.”
~
The dragons were the wizards’ kings and kings of all there be.
Then the wizards sided with mankind and the change we now see.
The dragons then outnumbered but will always get their way.
So, the dragons hid, plotted, and waited for their perfect day.
~
A meeting was soon needed and a message they did send.
The queen, a very tolerant wizard, was ordered to attend.
The dragons asked the queen which side she would now assist.
She called for the albino bearded pair and said that they’ll be missed.
~
A journey the pair would make and a message they would take.
They were to find the dragons’ leer, if not, their wizardry’s fake.
At first the journey was tranquil, until the trees turned into moss.
But the map was clear, the ocean’s near and soon they had to cross.
~
The pair sat together throughout the night; laughter was not shared.
The next day was spent thinking about why they had been dared.
They questioned their strength in wizardry and why they were sent.
They pondered the most important thing; what their failure meant.
~
Shore line bound on a rocky beach the ocean soon flooded their view.
Another step and they must swim, what else was the pair to do.
Warm and dry on the wizards’ shoulder the lizard saw a true friend.
A selfless friend who’s always there, until the cold and bitter end.
~
Their bond now frozen in time the lizard leapt with the joy of a new start.
With a splash, waves of emotion swept over the lizards’ tiny cold heart.
The loyal wizard dove into the icy abyss to save his lifelong mate.
He didn’t give a second thought to what might be his fate.
~
With each clumsy stroke the friends grew larger and stronger.
Their powers finally realized; fears were theirs no longer.
Overcoming adversity was their gift and proven every day.
The pair, now reassured, knew they’d find their way.
~
The swim became enjoyable, greeting whales as they swam.
The pair now too were giants and as happy as a clam.
They traveled day and night before the land came into view.
A land covered in snow and ice; a place seen by just a few.
~
Staring into the future whilst reflecting on their past.
Forward was their path, tomorrow’s coming fast.
There was no time to frolic in this new and mystical place.
The friends had never felt the snow on their chilly face.
~
Onward they tread, each unaware of their enormous new size.
To each, the same old friend, in each other’s eyes.
The snow was getting deeper as the sun began to fade.
A shadow appeared ahead, a choice, then was made.
~
The fearless pair followed the shadow into the dark and unknown.
As the shadow disappeared, a dragon, then magically grown.
With salutations all around their dragon guide led the way.
Tirelessly they all ventured until the break of day.
~
The sun rose and a castle of ice glistened in the distance.
The albino pair stood in awe of this grand palace’s existence.
Large and foreboding gates began to open as the trio came near.
Once safely inside they were all greeted with a loud cheery cheer.
~
A bountiful feast was enjoyed, and conversation ensued.
As the hours grew late eyelids grew heavy and sleep set the mood.
A good night’s rest was enjoyed whence summoned by the king.
The angry King loudly inquired what excuses do they bring.
~
“We bring no excuses”, proclaimed the wizard, newly confident.
“We bring a message from our beloved queen, her love evident.”
“She doesn’t think war’s the answer and will not participate.”
“Humans, too, will soon grow up, so why tempt our children’s fate?”
~
The king, unamused, then asked the lizard why they were sent.
The lizard replied, “Our queen is wise, your concern is misspent.”
The king screamed to his guards “arrest them now, my patience depleted!”
The pair stood with a smile and grew some more, as was needed.
~
The guards ran away while the king, defiantly, stood alone.
“We mean no harm” said the wizard, “sit back on your throne.”
The king was furious, confused and more than a little afraid.
He then sat back on his throne and said, “what deal can be made.”
~
“No deals are needed”, said the lizard,” our job here’s complete.”
“The Queen’s message received, now we’re back to get some heat.”
Provisions were provided and the pair happily headed home.
Both, rightfully relieved to be free of that frozen catacomb.
~
Their journey back was faster as the pair now knew the way.
Their kingdom waited patiently for their return home, some day.
Back home they were greeted with fanfare and thanked by one and all.
Then the albino bearded lizard and wizard returned to their garden wall.
~
The End

~*~
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Jen and Ben ~ School Starts Soon

Summer’s soon over, vacation’s now past.
The first day of school was coming fast.
The twins: Jen and Ben can’t decide.
Jen wants to go but Ben wants to hide.
~
Jen wants to learn and make new friends.
Ben wishes that the summer never ends.
They both agree they are getting older.
Ben’s a little wiser and Jen a bit bolder.
~
Ben’s gotten bigger, Jen’s starting to read.
They race to the sandbox and Jen’s in the lead.
It’s the last weekend before school starts.
There they’ll learn letters, numbers and art.
~
Ben likes to paint; Jen loves to drum.
She taps on her pail and Ben starts to hum.
Ben uses a stick to draw in the sand.
Jen gets a shovel and gives Ben a hand.
~
Mom brings out lunch for them to share.
She talks about school, but Ben doesn’t care.
Mom says it’s kindergarten, just half a day.
Jen hugs Ben and says there’s time to play.
~
Ben feels better and gets back to eating.
Dad joins in for a Saturday lunch meeting.
They finish their lunch then have dessert.
Jen climbed a tree; Ben played in the dirt.
~
Supper’s soon then bath time and bed.
But first they’ll find dad, he’s in the shed.
The table is set for the twin’s favorite dish.
It’s roasted potatoes, coleslaw and fish.
~
The cat likes fish too and jumps on Ben’s lap.
Jen starts to giggle and gives her a scrap.
Ben gave her another and mom said no more.
Hers comes in a bag we buy at the store.
~
Mom takes a seat and dad serves the slaw.
Jen spills her drink; Ben drops his straw.
The mess cleaned up and the meal enjoyed.
Ben finished first, Jen was annoyed.
~
There’s time for a game then scrub-a-dub.
Jen likes the shower; Ben likes the tub.
He plays with boats and pretends to swim.
Jen’s much quicker, like they are at the gym.
~
Mom reads a book; dad turns out the light.
Kisses all around and then goodnight.
Both quiet and still they stare at the moon.
They drift off thinking of school starting soon.

~*~
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Tough Love

I’ve a brand-new pad so indoors I’ll stay.
There’ll be no visit on this miserable day.
I miss that baby, I miss her a lot.
She just turned four and hugs I’ve got.
~
I need a squeeze; I need a kiss.
But it’s the smiles that I really miss.
Her face lights up when we meet.
It’s always special when we greet.
~
She lives in the city, a little too far.
Four hours of traffic, stressed in a car.
Her mom’s always busy; we chat on the phone.
Three times a week, each time she’s grown.
~
Maybe next week, that’ll be great.
We’ll read some stories and stay up late.
We’ll brush our teeth and get ready for bed.
We plan tomorrow then a kiss on the head.
~
We’ll go for a walk, have breakfast in town.
We’ll play in the yard then into her gown.
We’ll dance for a while and talk and giggle.
Then into the car seat with a twist and wiggle.
~
We tell all the jokes we almost forgot
I say she’s silly, she says I’m a nut.
There’s kisses goodbye, though never enough.
Then one last wave, the one always tough.

~*~
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My Little Tea Set

On my fourth birthday my grandma gave to me,
a precious little tea set that traveled the sea.
Painted with flowers in a land faraway.
It’s made of porcelain and not yet for play.
~
My initials are there, in gold on the side,
I’ll use it when older, but never outside.
They’re tucked away safe in the dining hutch.
With mom’s good dishes she doesn’t use much.
~
On my fifth birthday my mom said to me,
your doll looks thirsty and ready for tea.
We ran to the hutch to get my tea set,
then a party with mom I’ll never forget
~
My dolly was there, and teddy was too.
We had goodies to share, but always too few.
We finished our snacks and washed my tea set.
Then put it away, it was our best party yet.
~*~
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Morning Triku #179 ~ Love, Time and Little Things

Possibly

With love all things are
possible, without, all things
are merely more things.
~

Irony

Ironically,
the most valuable time
is free time spent well.
~

Little Things

Transportation is
moving things. Transition is
the movement of minds.

~*~
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Morning Triku #179 ~ AM

Treble

With the dawn comes light.
We revolve to kiss our star.
With dusk we devolve.
~

Bass

On a blue planet,
everybody gets sad.
When left in the dark.
~

Volume

From the earth all’s born.
Toil and frolic to survive.
As the earth we rest.

~*~
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Day and Night or A Theoretical Evolution

The dawn of man, day and night.
To each hidden, out of sight.
One sleeps; one toils.
One seeks one’s spoils.
~
Time divides vision unseen.
Senses halved, half sees green.
Wants and lust, winner takes all.
One fruitful, one to fall.
~
Empyres grow by day, hunt by night.
Vampyres hide, losing their might.
Numbers dwindle, terror’s on the rise.
To each the enemy, one does surmise.
~
Clever is one to fill a need.
One content, quenching greed.
Legends wane, days grown.
Nights shine, left alone.
~
Brushes had, curiosities dulled.
Truth fiction when unmulled.
Empyres persist, end’s clear.
Vampyres evolve without fear.

*
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Shared Beauty

Baby blue and pink,
the colors of our birth.
Beauty shared at sunset,
all around this earth.
~
As these colors fade,
stars soon will shine.
Beauty, too, can change,
when our views align.
~
Though our views may vary,
our vision’s all the same.
Raise our children to be free,
to live their lives peacefully.

~*~
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That Fork and Path

Sunset setting a path to night.
Dusk taunts ending light.
Stars shine to guide and tease.
The moon glows, surely to please.
~
Our sun rises; all is new.
Life’s begun, sometimes blue.
Rain and clouds fog the mind.
Rainbows follow, peace to find.
~
Wind blows, waves crash.
Will’s bend; checks to cash.
Another day, fresh or old?
Tomorrow’s here, yesterday sold.
~
Betwixt are we; heaven and hell.
Time, manmade in natures shell.
Reality cloaked, armored to fight.
Sunset setting a path to night.

*
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Startin’

Oh, what to do, oh what to do?
My day is free, and the sky is blue.
There’s chores to do, my list is long.
My old guitar needs a new song.
~
I’ve coffee for sippin’, a chair for sittin’,
and that morning sun’s warmin’ my heart.
The birds are singin’ and peace it’s bringin’,
so far, a mesmerizin’ start.

~*~
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Glorious Glistening Goodness

The sun has risen on a beautiful day.
Why it will be I cannot say?
But I woke at dawn and I feel great.
My house is warm and troubles can wait.
~
The coffee is hot and the music’s down low.
I won’t ponder how the future might go.
For now, all’s good, no problems in sight.
This day is bright and I see the light.

~*~
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Skipper’s Lane

Around the bend from the church on main,
lies a quaint little street, called Skipper’s Lane.
T’was on this path a young lad dwelled,
before the streets’ name or the lad propelled.
~
The tale goes: At the head of a cove the sandbar’s long.
The water’s choppy and the currents strong.
A young lad fished, he netted all day.
At sunset he rowed to the town up the bay.
~
He traded his catch for supplies and some cash.
He then rowed back home and buried his stash.
Years soon passed and the lad’s now a man.
The time was now to dig up an old can.
~
The cans held his savings, he’s more than a few.
The man, now called Netty, had something to do.
Netty rowed into town, to buy but not sell.
He bought a new boat with a bright shiny bell.
~
He towed the boat home not knowing how to sail.
A year’s practice behind then caught in a gale.
Netty stayed calm, his life, spent afloat.
Home was in sight when he saw a tossed boat.
~
The boat missed the inlet, now blowing out to sea.
Though Netty unsure, he could not leave them be.
Adjusting his sails Netty raced to give aid.
Soaked and battered he would not be afraid.
~
Lost memories filled young Netty’s head.
Recalling the night, he was almost dead.
The sky was black and the water cold.
The ship sat heavy, filled with gold.
~
Remembering screams and cracking wood,
the ship’s bell rang, gone childhood.
The boy hit the water and woke on the shore.
The life he once knew was no more.
~
A crashing wave broke Netty’s trance,
one second more he’d lose his chance.
He leaned on his tiller to bring his boat near.
The boats colliding mustered everyone’s fear.
~
Netty thought quickly and dropped his sheet,
then heaved his net around a cleat.
He pulled and pulled with all his might.
His biggest catch was that stormy night.
~
All returned safely before the sun rose.
Netty now a hero was gifted new clothes.
New friends were made, now one’s Netty’s wife.
Recounting his memories he bought a new life.
~
The gold recovered, Netty bought lots of land.
He built a grand home well away from the sand.
The harbor in view he watches over his fleet.
The town, now prosperous, gave Netty a street.

~*~
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Contrasts

I need a new color or maybe a sound.
I need something to get my head off the ground.
High in the clouds is where I should be.
Soaring with eagles; majestic and free.
~
Exploring a world where peace is the norm.
A place where everyone survives the storm.
A place where kids all laugh and parents sing.
Where old folks still giggle on the backyard swing.
~
We’ve no need for bombs, guns or war.
We’ll all have love, can’t hurt, can cure.
Oh, What a place this world could be.
If only that eagle, were you and me.

~*~
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Shades of Gray

I’ve got birds in my gutters,
bats in my shed,
mice in the basement
and cobwebs in my head.
~
I got up really early,
but I’ve nothing good to do.
I’d like to take a walk,
but I only found one shoe.
~
I’d love a cup of coffee.
But the water I can’t drink.
I turned on the faucet
and sludge filled my sink.
~
But the sun is soon to rise,
I’ll see a brighter day.
Though rain’s in the forecast,
there’s darker shades of gray.

~*~
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It’s All Pluckin’ Good

Hello friend, can you please spare a buck?
Sorry for asking but I’m down on my luck.
The wife kicked me out and kept my old truck.
She smashed my guitar, now I’ve nothin’ to pluck.
~
She said I’m lazy and got no ambition.
I said her happiness is my only mission.
I do what I can, but ain’t no magician.
Tell ya the truth I’d rather be fishin’.
~
But she kept my rods too, locked in the shed.
And she found all the money hid under the bed.
She threw the good pan right at my head.
She mighta been pretty but she ain’t well bred.
~
She’s as strong as an ox, same size too.
She wears a men’s size twelve shoe.
And when she smiles my brain turns to goo.
But she’s gone now, I’ll have to make do.
~
Just a buck, friend, that’s all I need.
I’d ask for more but that be greed.
I don’t need much, I’m easy to feed.
I can’t be a beggar, but I will plead.
~
Thank you, friend, for sparing that buck.
I’m thinkin’ this is a change in my luck.
I can walk, damn it, I don’t need no truck.
Thank you, friend, for returning my pluck.

~*~
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Fed-Up Back-Up

Mom’s always angry and I’m fed up.
The kids are a pain and won’t shut up.
The little brats scream, yell and they shout.
There is no relief, not even when out.
~
They cost a lot too and always want more.
I’ve tripped over packages at my front door.
Something’s always broken and the house a mess.
We need a vacation, I must confess.
~
A hammock for two on a deserted beach,
with the comforts of home well within reach.
We’ll eat when we want and we’ll get up late.
By day we’ll frolic, each night a hot date.
~
We’ll call the kids weekly, just to say high.
Then we’ll hang-up when they start to cry.
We’ll bring back presents, two for each.
But if they’re bad we’re back to the beach.

~*~
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Time for Time-Out

timeoutimg002

Time for time-out it’ll end soon.

Dug in the yard with mom’s good spoon.

She’s had it since her wedding day.

Used just for holidays, not play.

*

I said that it was shaped just right,

to dig a trench where armies can fight.

Needs to be deep but not too wide.

Had to dig fast so they can hide.

*

Buried far down just like a tomb.

Guarding treasure found in your room.

Found in a box high on a chest.

It’s the booty pirates like best.

*

I must protect those shiny things:

chains, charms, bracelets, baubles and rings.

Hid them good, remembered the map.

But then forgot after my nap.

*

To help me dig I found a pet.

The best digger there is I’ll bet.

Finished our yard then went next door.

Found nothing, ran off to dig more.

*

Chased our cat high up in the tree.

Grandma called the police for me.

Her nurse had to help make the call.

The police came, that isn’t all.

*

While chasing his dog that I found,

the man fell from holes in the ground.

He said he’ll sue, just wait and see.

I said it was his dog, not me.

*

His face was red, limping away.

But grandma’s heart will be okay.

And I have some more good news.

While digging today, I wore no shoes.

*

They’re nice and clean and tucked away.

I’ll try no pants some other day.

Though mess was made with my bare feet,

I cleaned it up with hose and sheet.

*

Pushed all the water out the door.

Then to your room, I cleaned some more.

Too bad the hose didn’t quite reach.

I luckily then found the bleach.

*

You’ll smile when you turn on the light.

I know you like things clean and white,

with spots of color here and there.

You’ll surely hug your little dear.

*

I’m glad you’re home early today.

Don’t believe what the neighbors say.

The rescue came, Dad’s all right.

Not much pain, he’ll wake by tonight.

*

Go to the doctor, I’ll just wait.

I’ll be good and won’t stay up late.

I missed lunch; I’ll make us a snack.

Fix the chair dad broke with his back.

*

He climbed too high to find his keys,

lost his balance from wobbly knees.

I found some socks to wrap dad’s head.

Then found soldiers under my bed.

*

Recalled the mission to be done.

Ran downstairs to start the fun.

Found no spoons not already bent.

But then found yours and out I went.

*

And that’s where my story began.

Now come sit close mom, hold my hand.

I know that time-outs hurt you too.

But when it’s done I’ll still love you.

*

The End

sck2014

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/468259

In the Clear

Today I’m lost and can’t find my way.
I look toward the sky to guide the day.
The sky was blue; I shared a smile.
Still, I’m lost but gained a mile.
~
I look to the ground; I’ve a path to find.
The ground was hard; my steps were kind.
Yet still I wander, walking on air.
My head’s in the clouds, inward stare.
~
I look straight ahead, my path’s now known.
Each step forward is another step grown.
Journeys all end, destination’s the same.
Directions clear, be glad you came.

~*~
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To Day

Today will be different than yesterday.
Yesterday was sunny, today it’s gray.
Yesterday was warm with skies of blue.
Today is rainy and there’s nothing to do.
~
Oh, I’ve projects o’many, my list is long.
The radio blasts yet another old song.
With pencil in hand my mind goes astray.
I’ll scribble on paper things I don’t say.
~
Today will be different, I’ve changes to make.
Yesterday was wasted, but I did buy a rake.
Yesterday’s gone, its memory will wane.
Today is here and I’ve a future to gain.
~
I’ve done some bad, but mostly good deeds.
Now I’ve all the things that one really needs.
And for love, joy, health and youth I’m glad.
I scribble today: three out of four ain’t bad.

~*~
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Nightlife

A short story by Steve Kittell

Chapter I
Good Morning

“Good morning Bailey, Maine. It’s 6:oo AM, as always, and I’m Chicken Little with your morning wake up call from WWDZ, the Woodz in the woods. Big news today here in 960 FM land and all of the northern quarter of these good ole United States and of course all of southern Canada. Yes folks today, Saturday, as of midnight actually, started our worlds’ new journey, our journey into the darkness. Yep, it’s what’s being called Nightlife, and we all have to shift our lives 180 degrees. Day is night, night is day. And I, for one, although I’m sure most, are confused, scared and probably, at least a little, pissed off. What the hell is going on? I know we should have been prepared, its already happened in the rest of the country, but it’s different here in northern Maine. We’re different, we’re tougher and more independent and now we got the government telling us day is night and night is day and the sun is bad, blah, blah, blah. The sun’s gonna git cha! Yep, simple as that, no more sunshine for us.”
In a dimly lit trailer used as the news radio station, Steve, known as Chicken Little to his listeners, sits back and exhales loudly, frustrated and frightened by his mornings’ open. He pauses for another second before leaning back into the microphone to continue.
“Unfortunately friends, the alternitive is death, death by slow incineration. We even have an official name for it now; Airfrilation”, yep airfrilation, as defined by some governmental overlord as the “sudden mutation and expansion of blood cells caused by excessive solar radiation resulting in the, non-repairable, fusing of cappilaries. Which will, over time cause the heart to overheat and burst. Burst! Bursting freakin hearts, that’s what it says, bursting hearts, Boom! And then, wait for it, potentially igniting the surrounding body fat resulting in almost total incineration. Airfrilation people, airfrillation we’re probabally going to hear that a lot. Buckle up.”
“On a more positive note; the dome is almost finished over the high school playing field and our state champs girls softball team can get back to paractice for next season soon, congrats again ladies. Buck’s on Main is having a buy one get one free sale on all summer gear. Good luck Buck. Frieda’s not feeling well today, so she’s closed til further notice, sorry everyone you’ll have to make your own breakfast for a while. Feel better Frieda, love ya. Sunrise today at 6:16, safe sun time from sunrise to 7 o’clock is about 3 1/2 minutes, 7 to 8 is 1 1/2, 8 to 9 is less than one 1 minute and from 9 am until 5 pm is zero minutes, zero minutes people, no sun, window shades down, reverse and repeat. Life as we know it gets turned off. But we’re alive now and the sun’s beginning to rise, the orange and purples are amazing this morning, a little hazy now, but that will burn off shortly and we’re in for a bright sunny, clear day, that we won’t see. Highs in the low to mid 80’s, a bit warm for early March, whew. With that, it’s time for a little music, perhaps ironic, but lets give old George a whirl. Ladies and gentlemen here comes the sun.”
Steve pops in the cart, presses play and sits back to light yet another bootleg cigarette while peaking through the blinds to see the last of the today’s sunrise. The realization of this new time was, finally sinking in with Steve, it all started about four months ago in the southern quarter and he’s regulary reported on the many, many deaths since. But that all seemed very far away from Bailey, where there had been a few minor cases of airfrilation, before it had yet been named, so folks thought it was a heat rash or something with little red bumps that tingle and burn. Pulled from his thoughts by a loud buzz on his phone, Steve shuffles through his stacks of notes strewn over the console knocking the phone to the floor. Leaning over to reach it the chair tipped over and Steve hit the floor fast and hard, taking with him the old turntable, lots of paper and his extra large, steaming hot, morning coffee. After a few moments of screaming and swearing, Steve grabbed his phone, and sat to read the recent text from their sister station in Slocum. He began to weep, realizing his responsabilty to the community he regained his composure, somewhat, and returned to his microphone.
“6:28 Folks and no, it’s not alright George, not anymore, anyway. Word just in from our brothers and sisters down in Slocum, one confirmed death yesterday and maybe another. Unfortunetly they have to wait for the house fire to go out before they can investigate. Damn! That just rocked my world, I’m shaking, damn, damn, damn! I hate being the bearer of bad news folks, but this is only the begining, I’m sure.”

Chapter II
Wake Up

Steve steps back from the mic to calm himself before he totally lost it. Three deep breathes, the trick he was taught in prison to release tension. Soon after his breathing exercise Steve was able to regain his composure and get back to the microphone.
“Sorry everyone, lost my cool there for a second. Lots going on this morning, I’ve got to a broken turntable on the floor with a bunch of useless wet notes and a really big, empty cup of my morning elixer, that is now soaking my favorite pair of jeans. None of which is all that important, certainly not compared to what’s happining to our good friends down in Slocum, our thoughts and prayers are with you. Gonna spin another record now so I can clean up my mess and then get to the phones. Nine nine six, twenty two hundred folks, I’d love to hear your thoughts. And if anyone happens to be passing by with a nice, big, fresh cup of Joe you will be genoursly rewarded, thanks in advance. Three dog nights’ may now be a thing of the past but Shambala will always be in our hearts and minds.”
Steve loads the cart, forgetting to hit play and heads to the bathroom to clean up. He closes the door and takes his coffee soaked pants off to rinse in the sink. Scensing what should have been the end of the song Steve hastely hangs his wet pants over the then towel bar to dry and rushes back, pantsless, to the console only to find there was no song and all the phone lines were flashing.
“I’m back, sorry for the dead air, I’m trying to clean up a little.”
Ignoring the phones, Steve hit play, lit another cigarette and started cleaning up the wet mess all over the new carpeted floor in the newly bought studio. The old studio became far too valuable to rent to a mom and pop radio station, albeit an historical institution in Bailey. The station, first in town, sat high atop the Fin and Feather Grand Lodge, a five-story brick, granite, iron and glass eyesore that completely cluttered the vistas of the surrounding one and two-story buildings that fill Main street’s half mile. Built in 1885 by a wealthy and bombastic gentleman sportsman from Boston. The young heir intended it to be a sporting playground with year round hunting and fishing as well as numerous seasonal activities for the the hunters families. The lodge was complete with a gourmet resturant, spa, several shops and a iron and glass pool pavilion with a waterfall. The nearby carraige house and equastrian center was to be the grandest in all of Maine, though never finished. It’s ruins still clutter that part of town and now used as a homeless camp. The Lodge itself saw many changes and uses over its long and troublesome life. Now, however, it was being returned to its former glory by yet another bombbast from Boston, this time for luxury doooms-day condos.
Life was forever changed in that little town of Bailey and everyone knew it was just a matter of time before their first casualty. The southern quarter of the country had already lost almost half of its population, many headed north, but most didn’t heed the warnings in time. The remaining have adapted to the nightlife, with those who have to be out during the day now, absolutely having to wear a sun suit. A new sun suit factory was planned for Hestor, about twenty miles south east of Bailey, hopefully operational before the dreaded summer.
Sun suit manufacture was now at war-time capacity and a whole new economy was taking shape with the almost total collapse of some industries and the invention and growth of others. Unfortunetly the new profits were going back to the shareholders who caused the problems to begin with.
Bailey, too had seen drastic changes recently caused by airfilation, most noticeable being the fifteen – twenty percent population growth from all the terrified victims escaping the south and with more expected. Real estate prices were soaring, the cost of everything was skyrocketing. Main street vacancies were nonexistent, filled by new real estate and law offices. What once were tiny summer cottage rentals were now selling at well into the millions and the luxury lake houses were now causing bidding frenzies. This, of course, was easy money for those looking for the quick buck, legaly and otherwise. Stolen guns and four-wheel drive trucks were by far the most profitable and biggest problem for law enforcement. Illeagle drugs where getting scarce and very expencive, causing the addicts into more and more brazzen criminal acts. The legal marijauana dispenencery where too seeing increased break-ins and theft attemps in addition to being overwelmed with all the new customers, predictably increasing prices .

Chapter III
Good Bye

Scrambling back to the console and quickly changing up songs before getting back to the mess he made and continued to ignore the phones and the mic. Back on the floor, still in damp underwear with knees held to his chest, Steve was overwhelmed with the urge to drink, his old escape from reality. It’s been neerly a decade since Steve’s last drink, which ultimately put him in jail for twenty six long months. The silence was eventually broken by a loud and forceful bang on the door. “You OK in there Steve” yelled Sargent Bouchard of the local police force. Hearing no responce the sargent yelled in his deep ominous voice “Open this door now or I will.”
Snapping out of his funk by flashbacks of the police. Screaming, Steve franticlly jumped to his feet “It’s cool Frank, I’m good, I’m good.”, lunging for the door Steve slipped on the wet paper and fell back to the floor, spraining his wrist on impact. “Shit, damn, damn!, Steve breathed in deeply, “It’s alright Frank, I slipped.” Steve scootted over to the door and pulled himself up with the chintzy door handle before unlocking it. However, while Steve pushed, the three hundred pound Sargent Bouchard was also pulling on the door handle. The flimsy door flew open, taking first Steve and then the Sargent, down the make-shift stairs crashing onto the gravel driveway. Steve was saved from any major injury landing on the sargent. The sargnet was not as fortuneate, landing on his back and slamming the back of head on the gravel, knocking him out cold.
Rolling off of the sargent, Steve laid on his back, enjoying the mornings warmth. Close to a minute passed before Steve realized Frank still hadn’t move. Turning his head Steve could see blood dripping from Frank’s sun suit hood. Steve screamed in horror before reaching over to shake his friend. “Frank, you OK Frank, Frank wake up!” Steve jumped to his feet, yelling “Help” over and over again, as loudly as he could before realizing everyone was indoors, avoiding the sun. Being closer to the patrol car than the trailer Steve lunged for the car and opened the drivers door. Suprised by the surge of cood, refresing air, Steve hesitaded for a second then jumped in, grabbed the radio mic, pressed the button and yelled, “Hello anyone, Frank’s down, Sargent Bouchard I mean. He’s out cold and bleeding, hurry, we’re at the radio station, hurry! Throwing down the mic Steve hurried from the car and back to Frank, who was still out.
Sitting next to Frank, Steve noticed a tingling sensation in his hands soon followed by a silmilar sensation in his arms and legs. Finally remembering his morning’s opening monolouge and the symptons of Airfrilation Steve gave Frank one last push before retreating to the shade. Working hard to get off of the ground Steve managed only one step before his legs gave out. Back on gravel Steve tried to drag himself to the trailer, a few feet where gained with great pain and effort.
In the distance a siren could be heard, music to Steve’s ears, soon we’ll be safe he thought. When the ambulance did finally arrive Sargent Bouchard was tended to immediately, later to be treated and sent home. The town firetruck arrived shortly after the ambulance and Bailey now had its first casualty.

The End