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#Post#: 257--------------------------------------------------
POST STORY HERE:::
By: Administrator Date: December 9, 2019, 3:28 pm
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Post your story as a reply here.
#Post#: 260--------------------------------------------------
Re: POST STORY HERE:::
By: Arcturus Date: December 9, 2019, 8:49 pm
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One Last Drop
The Water had no beginning, and it had no end. It simply was.
Man had spent eons trying to put it in a box but every one of
these attempts had failed (Likely due to the fact that the water
formed a globe.
Regardless, The water existed, and man built boxes. These boxes
varied in size and shape. They had funny names too, like
"river", and pond, and water's personal favorite (a relatively
new concept) lagoon.
Water enjoyed flowing. Flowing is this wonderful sensation where
you atomize yourself, dividing your consciousness into billions
upon billions of pieces, and then have them reenact a gigantic
and ineffable ballet in which none of the dancers have the
slightest clue what to due, and the music comes from highly
talented musicians playing the wrong instrument.
You should try it sometime.
Water was so busy flowing, and frolicking, and watching these
small organisms called fish, that it almost entirely forgot
about Man.
That was, until the day it woke up and felt a bit dirty. (Please
note the thoughtful use of foreshadowing in the previous line of
text.)
It briefly scanned the rocky and dry area Man called Land and
sought out the source.
Its watery gaze was distorted as though through a fisheye lens,
but it could quite clearly make out a boxy grey building
emitting a strange grey cloud.
Water deemed it a small curiosity far beneath its notice and
went on with its day (although it did note that Man had gotten
slightly more fashionable. If only it could teach Man to grow a
Reef!
Then, sometime a few years later, though time is but another
box, and year a mere sub-box, the water felt that a part of it
was slightly sluggish. Sick, and grey. It looked into the world
of Man and saw a horrific sight.
Man had created strange boxes. Boxes that could float. Boxes
that could transport the liquified remains of the creatures from
the time before.
One of Man's great ships had failed and released gallons of
murky black gunk into the ocean. It spread like a death shroud,
and Water was saddened.
The water felt saddened, for it new that the water would never
be clean again, and that this was only the beginning. It watched
sadly as Man created new inventions,
Plastic
Gasoline
Engine
Nuclear Energy
and bit by bit, this new technology was cast into the sea, and
abandoned, the plastics broke down and drifted like angry swarms
of bees killing fish and banding together into cyclones of
trash.
Water watched with mounting horror as Man used water as it's
personal garbage dump (a word it had learned from man)
And so it raged.
And Raged, and the more it raged, the more boxes Man created to
trap it, and objectify it, and contain it. And gunk to pollute,
demean, and destroy it.
And then, one day, it fell silent. The sea lay still, and it
seemed to cry out silently
Look! Look what you have done!
a lone gull drifted on the waves, fighting for air as the gunk
slowly worked it's way down his throat. It took one last look at
the dying, smoking wreck of the planet, and closed its eyes
one.
last.
time.
and all was still.
And as the temperatures rose, and the sea shrank, and even the
high and mighty Man fell to his knees, the Water was powerless
to stop the catastrophe.
This wasn't what it had wanted.
This wasn't what it had planned.
Was this really the future?
Was this how it ends?!
The ocean gazed out at the dry and infertile Earth and wished it
could cry.
Cry a river of tears that would replenish the barren and torn
planet.
But it had nothing to give.
Not a single drop.
And Man saw the nature of his folly.
I don't know if it count's as abstract, but it's pretty much
what my head blurted out, and it'll have to do. If you read this
far, then thank you.
The Earth is changing. I don't know how much, or how fast.
But it's going in a new direction, and it's taking us with it.
I don't know if there is anything I or we can do.
And maybe we really deserve it.
But if there was something we could have done, and we were too
preoccupied, or lazy to do it, then that's on us.
But you already knew that.
Good night.
(unless, of course, you read this during the day, or afternoon,
or sometime in between. But, you get the point.)
#Post#: 325--------------------------------------------------
Re: POST STORY HERE:::
By: deMicahNikes Date: December 14, 2019, 8:57 pm
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Once upon a time there was a chicken. And this chicken was
completely satisfied until a fox stole all of her babies. She
cried for hours that turned to days that turned to weeks that
turned to months that turned to years. until finally a rooster
came along and told her to get over it because it has been more
than a year and her babies would probably be dead. The end.
moral: if something is wrong do something instead of sit on
your butt and complain
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