Post by Judge Sam on Jun 6, 2006 18:02:50 GMT -5
Sage sits peacefully in his favorite chair, book on his lap, staring into space. The chair is as old as he is, but it still feels as comfortable and luxurious as it did when he was a boy. Resting his head against the cushion at the top reminds him of memories of his childhood.
He is startled from his reverie when the hairs on his arm begin to rise. A coldness sweeps through his body, tension grips his stomach, and his senses heighten.
"It's too damn cold in here," he mutters. "That damn air conditioner. How the hell am I going to get it fixed in the middle of this war zone."
Sage gets up to check the thermostat to see if he can fix anything by jamming at the buttons. He walks downstairs to the basement where it is, mumbling all the way. It's dusk, and the setting sun shines lightly into the basement through the only window. It's barely light enough to see, but Sage doesn't bother to flick the switch. He arrives at the thermostat and sees that the temperature is a perfect 75. "What the heck is wrong with this thing?"
Sage is immedately stricken with a vicious headache. It's so mindblowingly hideous that he collapses to the floor, hands clawing at his skull, trying to soothe his throbbing brain.
Images force their way into his head. It's as if he's living a dream. Reality becomes picture in picture. Sage sees a welcoming dinner party. 6 people are eating peacefully at a lavish and expensively set dining room table, topped with meager food prepared as if it was a delicacy. All are nervous, but polite conversation is traded back and forth. One excuses himself to visit the bathroom.
Suddenly, the widow is violently burst and a smoke bomb is thrown in. A squad of SWAT team members rush through the door, yelling, screaming, forcing everyone to the ground. "THIS IS THE POLICE! WE'RE HERE TO ARREST THE TRAITOR!"
You can feel the fright in the air. The government agents march in and face Andrew. "GET ON THE GROUND!" Andrew takes a step back and puts his hands in front of him, trying to stop the onslaught. The SWAT team immediately lunges forward, pulls out their tazer and shocks Andrew again and again. He's subdued. They tie his hands and legs and roughly lift him up out the door and into the back of a van. They drive off.
Reality creeps back into Sage's mind. He sits up from the floor, still feeling powerful reverberations from the images he just saw.
He is startled from his reverie when the hairs on his arm begin to rise. A coldness sweeps through his body, tension grips his stomach, and his senses heighten.
"It's too damn cold in here," he mutters. "That damn air conditioner. How the hell am I going to get it fixed in the middle of this war zone."
Sage gets up to check the thermostat to see if he can fix anything by jamming at the buttons. He walks downstairs to the basement where it is, mumbling all the way. It's dusk, and the setting sun shines lightly into the basement through the only window. It's barely light enough to see, but Sage doesn't bother to flick the switch. He arrives at the thermostat and sees that the temperature is a perfect 75. "What the heck is wrong with this thing?"
Sage is immedately stricken with a vicious headache. It's so mindblowingly hideous that he collapses to the floor, hands clawing at his skull, trying to soothe his throbbing brain.
Images force their way into his head. It's as if he's living a dream. Reality becomes picture in picture. Sage sees a welcoming dinner party. 6 people are eating peacefully at a lavish and expensively set dining room table, topped with meager food prepared as if it was a delicacy. All are nervous, but polite conversation is traded back and forth. One excuses himself to visit the bathroom.
Suddenly, the widow is violently burst and a smoke bomb is thrown in. A squad of SWAT team members rush through the door, yelling, screaming, forcing everyone to the ground. "THIS IS THE POLICE! WE'RE HERE TO ARREST THE TRAITOR!"
You can feel the fright in the air. The government agents march in and face Andrew. "GET ON THE GROUND!" Andrew takes a step back and puts his hands in front of him, trying to stop the onslaught. The SWAT team immediately lunges forward, pulls out their tazer and shocks Andrew again and again. He's subdued. They tie his hands and legs and roughly lift him up out the door and into the back of a van. They drive off.
Reality creeps back into Sage's mind. He sits up from the floor, still feeling powerful reverberations from the images he just saw.
What did I just see?