It was as if the Raven had a built-in clock. It came every morning at ten for the offered snack of nuts, crackers, and cooked meats.

Jennifer enjoyed feeding the large blackbird. She had become so used to the Corvus, that she even talked to it as if it understood everything she said.

Then one morning the Raven was over an hour late, and when it finally did arrive, it was joined by four others like it.

Each removed their beaked masks, revealing their humanoid faces, and the original Raven said, “We should talk.”

Jennifer wasn’t a bit surprised.

Why bother!
It is what it is.
Doxing, canceling, violence, silence.
The four horsemen of Society Broken have ridden down upon us.
While the alarm warned, we sat back in our comforts, lifting not our hands or eyes.
It is a dark winter that drives us downward.
Let me write of what might be, not on that which is happening, save in hidden silence.
Safety.

It was the celebration of the season and Victor felt honored to be invited. That honor quickly evaporated three days afterward, when the party’s host was arrested for ‘failure to take pandemic precautions.’

Soon a list of all the party-goers was leaked to the state-media. And even quicker, Victor found himself a pariah on social media and among his colleagues.

Worse yet, were the managers, who vowed to make him pay for his activity, writing, “Whether on or off the clock, employees are prohibited from affiliating with subversive persons and prohibited from doing anything that brings disrepute to the State.”

My Cousin Elmo says, “Fauci announces rejoining the WHO. No confirmation yet from Townsend or Daltry.”

My Cousin Elmo says, “In one day, President Biden’s gone from ‘Elect me because I have a plan to stop COVID’ to ‘Trump didn’t leave us a plan.’”*

*CNN repeated Biden’s claim that Trump didn’t leave the Biden administration a plan for vaccine distribution, never mind that millions of vaccines have already been given out. Then, Fauci contradicted that claim, on the record. Sad that mainstream media is more interested in promoting an agenda than fact-checking a falsehood. Takes the fun out of joking about another possible Biden gaff.

It was a sunrise and a nightfall since he’d left Virginia Street for Geiger Grade. Declan recalled how hopeless he’d felt as he pushed the hand cart, filled with supplies, up the narrow dirt trail, and along the mountainous slope.

Now he was less than a day away from Virginia City, his new assignment. He was to join the remaining twenty-nine people stationed in the town, all there to help maintain its upkeep.

Above him, he saw a battered and worn red and yellow sign and recognized the word ‘museum.’ Whatever else it said, he couldn’t read it, the thing was so neglected.

“I haven’t seen that old sign since I was a little boy,” Declan smiled, letting the memory wash over him, like a warm wave.

As he stood looking up at it, he wondered, was the sign an advert for a museum in the town, or was it for the surrounding land, filled with untamed scrub pine, rocks, and dirt. He couldn’t recall and being tired and hungry, he had no desire to even try.

It was then that Declan realized that no one would miss him and turned the cart off the trail, guiding it up the hillside.

Unable to sleep, dreaming of work, writing news articles, never being able to remove the red-lines of error, I got up. And so, I decided to edit some of my blog stories.

Stupid — perhaps.

It didn’t take me long to realize that I’ve become lazy when it comes to grammar and punctuation. I also recognized that I’m the master of, not only the compound-sentence but sometimes the three-time compound sentence.

And while I’d like to understand how this happened, I’m far too exhausted to properly think about it. And I still have a choice: coffee or sleep.

Coffee, it is!

It was like watching a public presentation for the newest cellphone. The man walked out onto the stage, smiling, enthusiastic, and ready to show the world the latest gadget that the world ‘must-have.’

At first many didn’t see it, the thing was so small as it flew with a sharp humming noise out to arms-length from the presenter. He then offered it his hand and an autonomous airborne vehicle (AAV) lightly touched down in his palm.

“This is the latest in Artificial Intelligence,” he said. “It can processes its surroundings faster than I can close my hand around it.”

He quickly snapped his hand closed, but the drone escaped before his fingers touched it. Then the AAV zipped back and forth, scanning the crowd in the auditorium, face patterns being recognized and displayed on the large screens behind the presenter.

The crowd was delighted, oohing and awing, clapping at each new thing the AAV accomplished. Then the tone of the room changed when the fast-moving thing spotted another face, this one on the stage opposite from the presenter.

With exacting accuracy, the AAV swooped into position, touching lightly against the forehead of the face. The face belonged to a mannequin and before anyone in the audience realized it, the AAV discharged with a small puff of smoke.

The shattered bits fell all about the stage, while the mannequin remained standing a small hole in the forehead where the AAV had made contact. The crowd cheered and clapped wildly.

“Yes,” the presenter said, “Bad actors of the world are soon to be a thing of the past.’

He stepped aside and the screen behind him lit up with a mountainous desert scene that drew closer and closer until the ground was but feet from the AAV. Suddenly, a man’s face appeared and a fast as that, it disappeared.

Other men standing near him began to run from the area, however, like the man prior, their faces disappeared from the processor’s view. Pop after pop was heard until the screen went dark.

This was quickly followed by an overhead view of the landscape. Seven bodies lay in the sand, blood pooling about their lifeless heads.

“Seven criminals, gone,” the presenter stated, as the crowd cheered, “Using one of these AAV’s and a shape-charge of less than an ounce.”

Five days later, an attack left 262 Congressional members and the President dead.

Early today I had to use my initials, TJD, on a piece of paper.

The person at the counter looked at them, then at me, before asking, “Is this some sort of an effing joke, ‘cuz if it is it isn’t funny!”

Looking at her, I asked, “Is what a joke? “

“These so-called ‘initials?’” she exclaimed.

“So-called?” I returned.

“These are Donald Trump’s initials in reverse,” she stated.

“No, they aren’t,” I shot back, “They’re mine and in the correct order, too. Now get me your manager!”

“Why so you can whine about how I caught your little scam?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I answered.

After explaining what happened to the manager, I watched as she fired her on the spot. I left the store with the knowledge that it’s going to be a very long four years.

My Cousin Elmo says, “I wanted to be a Gregorian monk, but I never got the chants.”