tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10230924571072071512024-08-29T01:52:45.227-04:00The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-56616141889293922802016-07-26T16:04:00.002-04:002017-11-29T14:48:24.396-05:00

Hello, Dear Journal.  It's been a while. I've been busy. And when I've not been busy, I've been lazy, I guess. So, here we are. After a long, hard-fought primary season, we’re at the Democratic National Convention. And now the truth of this campaign season is finally starting to come out: We all know the system is rigged, in the larger economic sense. But so is the Democratic Party.

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-14102481869188263642013-12-03T21:11:00.000-05:002015-10-28T15:21:20.977-04:00

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention held a press conference today to address concerns over the recent spike in cases of alcohol-related deaths connected with time-displacement. Dr. Marcus Fiteegue, a spokesman for the CDC suggested that the number of instances of Hangover Displacement Syndrome (HDS) brought on by increased availability of a range of "Pay now, Party Later" (PNPL)

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-13215704008980435842013-07-14T22:28:00.000-04:002013-10-21T13:50:53.644-04:00

     "You already know, Seth," said Katie. "Think about your dreams."      "So you think they really are repressed memories?"      "Not merely repressed," she responded. "I think maybe LaBelle intentionally deleted some of your memories."      "But, why? And how?"      "I'm not sure about the how of it, but I'd guess

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-71804515066645890902013-07-07T23:51:00.000-04:002013-07-08T13:53:48.145-04:00

     "Bricked? You mean, like …" Nita started, then thought better of it. "What the hell, lady? You have your phone set up with a code that bricks it? Who the fuck are you?"      "I told you," smiled Katie in a way Nita found infuriatingly smug. "May name's Kathleen."      "No ID, no keys, no cash, but you have a phone that deletes itself instantly

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-13687720281080377562013-06-27T21:28:00.000-04:002013-06-28T15:30:32.736-04:00

     "What's your name, creep?" Nita pushed Seth into the living room chair.      "Umm, I'm uh … Hey!" He gave Nita a scandalized look. "I'm not a creep!"      "Then, why," she asked, "have you been sitting there watching our house?"      "I wasn't—"      "Shut up!" Nita scowled at him. "I'm in no mood for lies,

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-25097988645443537342013-06-20T17:56:00.000-04:002013-06-26T15:11:59.400-04:00

    Katie decided that before reporting anything more to Hanlon she would take a day or so to see if Seth did anything unusual in the aftermath of their date. Then again, with Seth, how could one tell what was unusual?      She also reasoned it might be a good idea take precautions to be sure she could find him. He had proven to be wilier than she had expected,

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-67056102486582929012013-06-08T22:41:00.000-04:002013-06-26T14:59:36.604-04:00

     "I think that guy over there is watching us ... I think." Lewis nodded towards a table in the back corner of the deli where they'd met for lunch.      "No, don't look." Nita grabbed Mary's arm before she turned. She and Lewis sat next to one another across from Mary. "If he is watching us, don't let him know we know."      "So, it's not just me

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-83651767362212667242013-06-02T23:50:00.000-04:002013-06-11T09:24:07.804-04:00

     O'Keefe awoke to the sound of his phone issuing a text alert. He looked around the unfamiliar surroundings, confused, until the memories of the previous night began to assemble themselves in his pounding head. That'll go away, he thought. Just need to find some aspirin and some protein. That had been quite a night. He was surprised how it turned out. He hadn't intended to

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-17570848386284580452013-05-19T23:38:00.000-04:002013-06-11T09:24:30.401-04:00

     The cab arrived, and they piled into the back seat together. Having planned for the possibility that she'd have to seduce O'Keefe, Katie had prepared a room at a rent-by-the-week motel that was about halfway between his house and her downtown base of operations. This was the address she gave the driver.      During the ride, she leaned into Seth, head resting

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-86625683959597772622013-05-12T22:27:00.000-04:002013-06-11T09:25:05.568-04:00

     "What have you got for us, Hanlon?" The woman behind the desk spoke sharply. "Have you learned anything useful?"      Hanlon was perpetually uncomfortable in this office—and it was clearly designed with just that purpose in mind. The simple act of crossing the distance from the door to the desk left him feeling like an intruder into a sacred space. The

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-4411720300881825822013-05-06T20:32:00.000-04:002013-06-11T09:25:27.643-04:00

Part II      "OK," said Seth, leaning across the table. "I told you where I work."      "Yes," replied Katie. "You work in this secret laboratory. But this is not so unusual. You said to me that you only clean the place, yes?"      "Yeah, I only clean up, but I still see things, you know?"      "What kind of things are you seeing

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-40217590800535570772013-04-29T22:57:00.000-04:002013-06-11T09:25:47.759-04:00

Part I      There is a certain class of dining establishment that is ubiquitous across the American landscape. These are the "mid-range" restaurant chains that sprouted up across the nation in the 1980s and 90s in order to serve the tastes of the aspiring yet faltering middle classes who had neither the time nor money to spend on higher quality fare, but wanted an option they

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-9375454030488809592013-04-07T12:39:00.000-04:002013-06-11T09:26:24.828-04:00

     Another day. Another café. Sometimes—when on the job—Katie felt as though all she did was go from one coffee shop to another; talking to different people in each one, exchanging notes or packages. She could imagine a worse life—sometimes she felt as though she'd lived several worse lives already—but it grew tiring at times.      This one was quite busy;

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-10105023747706987562013-03-30T10:15:00.000-04:002013-06-11T09:26:42.845-04:00

     "Hello?" The voice on the other end of the line was hoarse and slurred. Who would be calling at 5 o'clock in the morning?      "Doctor Jacobs?"      "Yes, this is Doctor Jacobs. Who is this?"      "This is Lewis Wright. You might remember me from a few years ago—"      "Yes of course, Lewis. How may I help you?

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-87165692038936353862013-03-25T19:01:00.000-04:002013-06-11T09:27:08.878-04:00

     Gary Harold was a man of big ideas and small ambitions. He enjoyed figuring out complex systems, whether they were the mechanics of games or the rules by which international trade was conducted. He also enjoyed impressing others with his esoteric knowledge, but he lacked the drive needed to make any practical use of that knowledge. He also really liked smoking weed. These

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-49263992978408750532013-03-10T23:47:00.000-04:002013-06-11T09:27:32.919-04:00

     Katie left the book store and went straight back to her hotel suite. She always kept a stash of burner cells on hand in order to make untraceable calls when needed, and she didn't want any record of contact between her and the psychologist who had worked on the Strange Animal project.      She still wasn't sure what to think of O'Keefe. He was paranoid, sure—

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-64274850210189423922013-03-05T18:04:00.000-05:002013-06-11T09:27:56.336-04:00

     "I don't give a damn about your stupid football team," Nita said. "Something strange is going on, and I want to get to the bottom of it."      "So sorry," replied Mary. She grabbed the remote off the coffee table and shut off the TV. "What's the matter? How did you find that book?"      Lewis sat back down on the couch without a word.

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-32859590318417886372013-02-28T21:27:00.000-05:002013-06-11T09:28:22.374-04:00

     "Why you think I would know of such things?" Katie asked, after several pregnant seconds of pause.      "Well," Seth replied, "because you're from Russia. Isn't the government pretty much always surveilling everyone there?"      "Is not always way things seem in American media."      "How do you mean?"      "You

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-48030987174668363862013-02-21T19:31:00.000-05:002013-06-11T09:28:55.792-04:00

     "You know, I used to be a kleptomaniac," said Mary in the most matter-of-fact voice of which she was capable after five or six glasses of Scotch.      "Wait," Lewis replied, "Serssously? 'Cause … because, that just does … that just doesn't seem like you. Like, at all. I mean, you're so … a … such a … so such …" Despite his usual reluctance to drink alcohol,

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-5136383598512309532013-02-05T01:49:00.003-05:002013-06-11T09:29:23.842-04:00

     The late-September sun shone through a break in the trees, nearly blinding Katie as she sat in her car watching a group of young men playing disc golf. They were laughing and drinking beer, which was, she was fairly certain, illegal in the park—the beer, that is, not the laughing. Or the disc golf—though watching the way these men behaved gave her the idea that maybe it

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-87074516633248735892013-01-29T20:30:00.000-05:002013-06-11T09:29:49.852-04:00

     "Why can't I come along?" Lewis was using his anxious voice. The one which usually got him his way where Nita was concerned.       "Because," Nita replied, "I really need time to focus." She wasn't having any of his guilt-trip tactics this time.      Nita's was the kind of room that left one with a feeling that just another couple of feet

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-81877990459919719142013-01-03T21:34:00.000-05:002013-06-11T09:30:26.272-04:00

We have no choice but to play the hands we're dealt. Sure, there are rules by which the universe runs, but at its heart a lot of life is just chance, indifference—chaos unending. But, there's one thing that is always consistent: you're always there, watching me.  Whether I fail or succeed, you're there, looking at me, weighing my worth as a human being. That's right, I see you giving me

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-88757318931500269692012-12-18T21:31:00.000-05:002013-06-11T09:31:00.035-04:00

     Katie McEllern drove back to her hotel. There was no sense in making further contact with O'Keefe just now—he'd only get suspicious. Besides, she was beginning to think there was something more to this case—something she wasn't being told.      The way Katie saw it, she could take one of three possible courses of action from here. She could continue shadowing

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-82757403748721499512012-12-06T18:07:00.000-05:002013-06-11T09:31:30.490-04:00

     I first met him while waiting in line to renew my license. He had disheveled dishwater-blonde hair worn below the ears, but not long enough to hit the collar of his t-shirt, and a stupid little "soul patch" under his lip. I have no Earthly idea how or why I caught his attention, because I definitely wasn't trying to. I'm nothing special look at and I was wearing scrubby

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1023092457107207151.post-53094024430955698892012-12-03T12:13:00.000-05:002012-12-03T15:37:00.427-05:00

So yesterday evening just after dinner, my family and I are all sitting and watching our regular Sunday night TV shows when there is a somewhat timid-sounding burst of knocks at the door. We all go silent, unsure if we really heard a knock, or whether it was the dog bumping into something upstairs and making noises or what. My teen-age son looks out the kitchen window (this is the only way to

The7ofSwordshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06845767296156484749noreply@blogger.com0