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Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Reason for Absence
The editor has been without an internet connection for some time now. BUT, starting this Thursday, updates will begin again!
Friday, March 30, 2007
Vision Quest (part 3)
Shorter this week, but only in word count, not quality :) As usual, Vision Quest is written by Quentin Harsh. Without further ado:
"Jeremy," He said in his soft voice. A voice which was so melodic and subtle, with it's sing-songy Manchester accent, that it seemed to permeate the very souls of all who heard it. It was hard to believe this was the voice of the same man who could summon the most righteous fury during his sermons. His voice would grow loud, and all his kind appearance would twist into something truely terrifying. It was this very transformation which had attracted Jeremy to the priest's ways of thinking in the first place. "Come in, sit down. Can I get you anything?"
"No thanks, Father." Jeremy replied. He sat down on a wooden chair next to the fan. It was a hot enough afternoon that most people in the dome would have their fans on all day. "I have need of your advice." He said.
The priest turned to Jeremy and looked earnestly into his eyes. He pulled a chair across from him and sat down, "What is it that troubles you, child?"
"A dream, Father. A dream which has plagued me nearly every time I have closed my eyes for the last six weeks. I believe it to be a calling from God or the Angels." Geoffrey nodded gravely, "Tell me of your dream."
"Jeremy," He said in his soft voice. A voice which was so melodic and subtle, with it's sing-songy Manchester accent, that it seemed to permeate the very souls of all who heard it. It was hard to believe this was the voice of the same man who could summon the most righteous fury during his sermons. His voice would grow loud, and all his kind appearance would twist into something truely terrifying. It was this very transformation which had attracted Jeremy to the priest's ways of thinking in the first place. "Come in, sit down. Can I get you anything?"
"No thanks, Father." Jeremy replied. He sat down on a wooden chair next to the fan. It was a hot enough afternoon that most people in the dome would have their fans on all day. "I have need of your advice." He said.
The priest turned to Jeremy and looked earnestly into his eyes. He pulled a chair across from him and sat down, "What is it that troubles you, child?"
"A dream, Father. A dream which has plagued me nearly every time I have closed my eyes for the last six weeks. I believe it to be a calling from God or the Angels." Geoffrey nodded gravely, "Tell me of your dream."
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Vision Quest (part 2)
I'm late this week! Sorry. It's been a busy busy week, but now that it's the weekend I have the chance to catch up. Delays like that should not happen again. Anyway, as they say, good things come to those who wait. So here is this week's update at long last, part two of Quentin Harsh's Vision Quest!
Though the council may be slow; it still might be a good idea to speak with Father Geoffrey about this. Dad wouldn't understand any better than anyone else; but Geoffrey has faith in our community, in our importance. He'll know what to do. Jeremy's thoughts were a tangle; but going to Geoffrey, the priest, seemed like the only course of action.
Jeremy climed down from his bed and dressed himself. He headed out the door of the hut and washed his face in the stream before starting down the path to the rectory where Father Geoffrey lived. The path was surrounded by beautiful Kauri trees, thick shrubbery and vines. The New Zealand Dome had always been Jeremy's favorite; and he was glad to have his hut put here when he came of age. He had grown up with his parents in the Congo Dome, which had always struck him as too hot, most of the year.
When he reached the Rectory, Jeremy was feeling nervous. What if Father Geoffrey didn't believe him? Of course he would. Geoffrey was very closely in touch with spritual forces. He had become, in only the eleven years he had lived in New Eden, the most influencial figure in the community. Most of the Old People didn't respect his wisdom; but his followers, particularly the Deacons, were deathly loyal to him. The door opened.
Geoffrey was neither tall nor imposing. His eyes were as round and soft as his skin. He had a roundish build, but he was by no means fat. He was approximately thirty-five, Jeremy had never asked him his age. Geoffrey's black hair matched his robes, and only served to accent his bright blue eyes. His smile was warm and inviting.
Though the council may be slow; it still might be a good idea to speak with Father Geoffrey about this. Dad wouldn't understand any better than anyone else; but Geoffrey has faith in our community, in our importance. He'll know what to do. Jeremy's thoughts were a tangle; but going to Geoffrey, the priest, seemed like the only course of action.
Jeremy climed down from his bed and dressed himself. He headed out the door of the hut and washed his face in the stream before starting down the path to the rectory where Father Geoffrey lived. The path was surrounded by beautiful Kauri trees, thick shrubbery and vines. The New Zealand Dome had always been Jeremy's favorite; and he was glad to have his hut put here when he came of age. He had grown up with his parents in the Congo Dome, which had always struck him as too hot, most of the year.
When he reached the Rectory, Jeremy was feeling nervous. What if Father Geoffrey didn't believe him? Of course he would. Geoffrey was very closely in touch with spritual forces. He had become, in only the eleven years he had lived in New Eden, the most influencial figure in the community. Most of the Old People didn't respect his wisdom; but his followers, particularly the Deacons, were deathly loyal to him. The door opened.
Geoffrey was neither tall nor imposing. His eyes were as round and soft as his skin. He had a roundish build, but he was by no means fat. He was approximately thirty-five, Jeremy had never asked him his age. Geoffrey's black hair matched his robes, and only served to accent his bright blue eyes. His smile was warm and inviting.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Vision Quest (part 1) by Quentin Harsh
This week we get to see a different sort of world, the world that Quentin Harsh invents in Vision Quest. This world is different than the one that we visited before, but equally captivating. For the next month or so we will explore this time, a post-apocalyptic time, perfect for the readers of canonFOUR...
Glass stretches out as far as the eye can see. The sun is perpetually blocked by thick, grey, uniform clouds. Above the horizon, it is grey; and below the glass reflects colorlessly. The only thing which breaks the monotony is a glow which sits a little less than halfway from the horizon. It is not strong, but it is distinct. The Glow is entirely formless. It is the color of hope. A sound radiates from this hope-colored Glow; the sound is that of distress. It is not a human cry of distress, nor the call of any animal which has ever walked the earth. This is the sound of distress itself.
With urgency, the Glow pleaded that he would come to her. He would have
to come to her before-
From beyond the horizon came a swarm of black. The unknown darkness tore across the frozen sea and sent shards of glass in all directions. They closed in on the Glow. When it's light was snuffed out, so was the sun.
Nothing was left.
The same dream. Always the same. Every time he slept, Jeremy was plagued with this nightmare. Every night for six weeks. Every nap. If he woke in the morning and went back to sleep, he'd have it again. Six weeks and it was all he could think of. And though most people would be confused by a dream of this kind, Jeremy knew what it meant. He understood the meaning. No one would believe him, of course. Alan didn't believe in such superstition; he was much like the Old People in that way. Emma would tell him that the journey was too long, she was ever the conservative. The rest of the village would want further proof. They would most likely cast lots or have the priest interrogate him. And even if the priest accepted his vision as having divine origin; there would be endless voting amongst the council as to what was the appropriate action. Nothing was ever done quickly in the village of New Eden. No, Jeremy knew that this was urgent; that he had to leave immediately.
Thursday, March 8, 2007
Toilet Paper Diaries (END + preview)
This week we see the end of Holly N.L.'s fictional diaries in the world of canonFOUR, and find ourselves with a preview of what will come next week, Vision Quest by Quentin Harsh. And now, for the conclusion:
July 13 Eleven years after the fall of mankind
They knew nothing. At the shop where we hammer metal a man cut off his hand. The police, or what we call the police, came in and brought him outside. I heard the sharp, single pelt of gunfire and a harsh thump. I know that we might have made that metal. But it was like before only with nothing to distract our minds from the real truth.
… In side the complex my place was replaced with a small family. I didn’t feel all that happy but not really all that sad. I would just apply for another small place. Under the High Reign they supply us with living spaces. Maybe I can have a place of my own. The steps are comfortable enough. They are familiar…
(end)
Vision Quest, a preview:
July 13 Eleven years after the fall of mankind
They knew nothing. At the shop where we hammer metal a man cut off his hand. The police, or what we call the police, came in and brought him outside. I heard the sharp, single pelt of gunfire and a harsh thump. I know that we might have made that metal. But it was like before only with nothing to distract our minds from the real truth.
… In side the complex my place was replaced with a small family. I didn’t feel all that happy but not really all that sad. I would just apply for another small place. Under the High Reign they supply us with living spaces. Maybe I can have a place of my own. The steps are comfortable enough. They are familiar…
(end)
Vision Quest, a preview:
When he reached the Rectory, Jeremy was feeling nervous. What if Father Geoffrey didn't believe him? Of course he would. Geoffrey was very closely in touch with spritual forces. He had become, in only the eleven years he had lived in New Eden, the most influencial figure in the community. Most of the Old People didn't respect his wisdom; but his followers, particularly the Deacons, were deathly loyal to him. The door opened...
See more of Father Geoffrey and Jeremy in the upcoming weeks on canonFOUR!
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Toilet Paper Diaries (pt 4 + 5)
Parts 4 and 5 of the wonderful Toilet Paper Diaries. Next week we see the concluding entry and a little preview of the next story! Don't forget the canonFOUR button that you can place on your own website (great for myspaces!). If you can, please consider affiliating with us!
Bethany
December 16 Ten years after the fall of mankind
… We put up a tree with a few pine needles and a thick trunk. The little girl that belongs to the Polanski family called the tree a starved human. I found that funny…
February 24 Eleven years after the fall of mankind
Dear Diary,
The High Reign made a statement today on the intercom system in Circle Town. We all stood their in the circle center and looked up to the smocking stocks of hell reaching to heaven. She stated to the many listeners that the time had come for Circle Town to bring done the walls and widen the border. The Pilgrims will be visiting soon. Hopefully they will know some news from the other countries.
I wonder if they might be able to tell me if my son or my sister or my mother may still be alive. America was the first to crash, then Great Britain, then China, then Japan, then Africa, then South America. The Meltdown. No communication, no way of knowing. I feel so cold today; when I walked home from the circle center I accidentally knocked a child down. I did not stop to help the young boy up I just turned away and walked on. Maybe this place is rubbing off on me.
Maybe I have lost my humanity.
Bethany
December 16 Ten years after the fall of mankind
… We put up a tree with a few pine needles and a thick trunk. The little girl that belongs to the Polanski family called the tree a starved human. I found that funny…
February 24 Eleven years after the fall of mankind
Dear Diary,
The High Reign made a statement today on the intercom system in Circle Town. We all stood their in the circle center and looked up to the smocking stocks of hell reaching to heaven. She stated to the many listeners that the time had come for Circle Town to bring done the walls and widen the border. The Pilgrims will be visiting soon. Hopefully they will know some news from the other countries.
I wonder if they might be able to tell me if my son or my sister or my mother may still be alive. America was the first to crash, then Great Britain, then China, then Japan, then Africa, then South America. The Meltdown. No communication, no way of knowing. I feel so cold today; when I walked home from the circle center I accidentally knocked a child down. I did not stop to help the young boy up I just turned away and walked on. Maybe this place is rubbing off on me.
Maybe I have lost my humanity.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Toilet Paper Diaries (pt 2 + 3)
This week, we get to see parts two and three of Holly N.L.'s "The Toilet Paper Diaries." I hope you enjoy it! Also, we now have a canonFOUR button that you can place on your own website. If you can, please consider affiliating with us! Thank you for checking us out, and without further ado -
March 27 Ten years after the fall of mankind
Today in the complexes our water system busted. Water was every where; we were all demanded to leave the facility until it was fixed. I know and you know that it will take weeks. So I sit outside in the dirty streets as I write with you pressed against my knee. The families around me sit and wait like I do. It really did not surprise any one of us, really; it was a four room building with 12 families piled in neatly. So we sit and watch things pass us by when we are demanded to leave our home. I watch the children run off too work with no salary and the parents go off too council meetings; “Can we salvage the air crafts, the automobiles, and the advances”?
We watch the beaten down shopping carts hobble past us. Our eyes still turn over to the tall stacks of smocking hell on earth with its’ black, billowing, hateful mess. It was where all the new things were created. To better save….
April 29 Ten years after the fall of mankind
… I woke up with the nightmare blazing in my brain. To think we saw it coming.
My boss told me that the business of delivery was no longer needed. The once and again air craft was reinvented. It would seem it is lost and found knowledge. I really didn’t care, really I didn’t.
I walked home to the complex and sat outside on the steps. They were different looking aircrafts. In World War III they were smooth and swift with grey metal and frightful speed. They carried the hydrogen bomb with them at all times. World War III was nothing compared to this hell. It was sort of like a dirty pillow faced to the option of stone. Hell or Hell?
March 27 Ten years after the fall of mankind
Today in the complexes our water system busted. Water was every where; we were all demanded to leave the facility until it was fixed. I know and you know that it will take weeks. So I sit outside in the dirty streets as I write with you pressed against my knee. The families around me sit and wait like I do. It really did not surprise any one of us, really; it was a four room building with 12 families piled in neatly. So we sit and watch things pass us by when we are demanded to leave our home. I watch the children run off too work with no salary and the parents go off too council meetings; “Can we salvage the air crafts, the automobiles, and the advances”?
We watch the beaten down shopping carts hobble past us. Our eyes still turn over to the tall stacks of smocking hell on earth with its’ black, billowing, hateful mess. It was where all the new things were created. To better save….
April 29 Ten years after the fall of mankind
… I woke up with the nightmare blazing in my brain. To think we saw it coming.
My boss told me that the business of delivery was no longer needed. The once and again air craft was reinvented. It would seem it is lost and found knowledge. I really didn’t care, really I didn’t.
I walked home to the complex and sat outside on the steps. They were different looking aircrafts. In World War III they were smooth and swift with grey metal and frightful speed. They carried the hydrogen bomb with them at all times. World War III was nothing compared to this hell. It was sort of like a dirty pillow faced to the option of stone. Hell or Hell?
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