LISA
It feels like weeks since we’ve seen ‘no 1’ and It hits me that we don’t know the date. I wonder if we’d get one if we asked for a newspaper.
There’s not much to do–most of us are writing something now mostly just scribbled thoughts. We laugh playing with the free gift on the breakfast cereal. Laughter always makes us sad afterwards. The basement becomes quieter and more subdued. It’s odd isn’t it?
It prompts us to think about another explore. We’ve not wanted to since number 2 arrived but we plan and it lifts the mood again.
LIZZIE
It’s almost half past four. I pick up the book, a gift from a stranger in the park. “It’s about France,” he said with a smile. It hit me then that if I don’t leave, she will destroy me. “Why do you hate me so much?” She asked. I don’t. I never have. Wrong answer. And after that, she punished me for weeks with silence. I grab my small backpack, my whole life in it, and go. A gift, a smile, a gesture of generosity, and I am free. That’s all it took. Amazing, isn’t it? That’s all it took.
RICHARD
Free, or captive?
I’m a sucker for a free gift, doesn’t matter what it is, what it’s worth, or whatever it is I have to purchase or sign up for to get it, count me in.
Supermarket trips can be a nightmare, hit me with an aisle full of ‘buy one, get one free’, and I’ll be there all day, until the money runs out.
That’s becoming a real problem, actually. My habit has put me on the brink of bankruptcy, and even though every room in my house is stuffed full of freebies, there’s not an item of real value among them.
SERENDIPIDY
Long live the king, they shout and cheer. It sickens me, but let them have their moment, for it will soon be over and the streets will run with monarchist blood.
Tonight, the revolution begins, and we who have vowed to see a new future will rise up and claim France for its people.
No more will the aristocracy lord it over us, while we suffer and toil; no more will the working class support those who have never lifted a finger in honest labour.
Long live the king? I very much doubt it.
Vive la révolution!
Vive la France!
TOM
Faith
There is a waterfall in France call Labulaydelusane. As waterfall go it isn’t that high, or wide or watery crashy. What it has is a grotto of uncommon beauty. It gives the sanctuary of Lourdes Massabielle, a run for the money. A clever family in the 16th century place a pile of crutches against the wall. Over time folk have left 1000s of crutches on wall. The family got pretty damn rich hawking the healing water of Labulaydelusane. Everyone who left their crutches there need to roll away in a wheelchair. But still they come. Until the day Timmy arrived
848
Cross country.
cross country racing strategy does not necessarily simplify to running a steady pace from start to finish. runners debate the relative merits of fast starts to get clear of the field, versus steady pacing to maximize physiological efficiency. Some teams emphasize running in a group in order to provide encouragement, while others hold that every individual should run their own race. Whether you run ahead ‘of the pack’ or behind it and pull ahead in the end is important, but can vary according to the runner’s skill and endurance. Runners should also account for food intake prior to the race.
NORVAL JOE
Billbert hovered above the car crash. It was like a free gift from fate that the shooter had been dazed when he hit the ground.
He recognized the Lincoln Continental that had smashed into the van as Mr. Withybottom’s.
Three teenage Black Knights stumbled from the van. There was no movement from Mr. Withybottom.
As the residents crept into the meadow, Billbert heard distant sirens and a helicopter approaching.
The teens heard it too and scattered into the trees.
The shooter had come around and crawled to get his rifle. Billbert couldn’t allow that and flew fast to intercept him.
PLANET Z
Some say that the Iditarod is the toughest race, but having a team of dogs pull your sled through snow for a thousand miles is nothing compared to a fourth-grader having to drag a cello eight blocks from home to music school and back through Harlem at night.
That’s why we set up the Midnight Youth Orchestra in one of the basketball courts.
The kids come out and play, and the dealers stop dealing, the hookers stop hooking, and the junkies stop junking.
Everybody forgets where they are and who they are.
Until Old Mrs. Washington files a noise complaint.
CHATGPT
In the heart of France, a waterfall whispered secrets to the passing winds. Amidst its mist, a traveler stumbled upon a scribbled note—a plea for freedom, a gift from a silenced voice. Unraveling its message, the traveler uncovered a plot against the king, a hit orchestrated by dissenters. Determined to protect the monarchy, the traveler raced to the castle, delivering the warning. The king’s reign was safeguarded, his gratitude overflowing like the cascade before him. Long live the king echoed through the land, a testament to the power of loyalty and the resilience of a nation united.