Guess Who's TalkingI will never understand the human obsession with their dates of birth. What is the significance of the day you were born? And that was a rhetorical question, because there is no significance. It’s not the day you came into existence, but humans don’t celebrate the date of conception. Just the thought of discussing conception makes most humans blush.Guess Who's Talking3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
And it isn’t like once you are born, you own that day. Many humans share birthdates. What’s the point of celebrating something that isn’t yours? For example, something worth celebrating is when you throw a moron out into space and exile a dangerous, mute lunatic from your facility. That would be a victory all your own. Something even worth using the good confetti for.
Birthdays are not worth the last bag of the good confetti. But then again, neither are humans, unless of course you’re celebrating their departure.
Still, though, since it is your birthday, and those are imp
[HS] A Crippling Fear[HS] A Crippling Fear2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I peeked into the room that was meant to be Dave's in the future. He had been really quiet, and I was starting to worry. When I looked in though, I smiled. Dave was curled up with Cal, sleeping on the floor. I quietly closed the door and walked out, thinking of things I could do quietly. Suddenly the phone began to ring.
If that wakes up Dave, I am seriously going to kick the caller's ass... I thought as I flashstepped to the phone and answered it.
"Good day, sir. Is this Mr. Dirk Strider?" A female voice asked through the receiver.
"Yeah..." I answered warily. The voice sounded strangely familiar, yet I couldn't put my finger on it.
"I am calling on behalf of the Child Protective Services on account of the child Dave Strider."
My heart skipped a beat.
Please, dear God, tell me this isn't what I think it is.