A blank slate appears before my very eyes. It is not made of stone, but rather tree. She is naked and white- empty in every fashion. Her corners are devoid of any punched holes. There is no margin, there are no blue lines with which to etch my musings upon.
This is quite simply a blank sheet of fresh paper. Beneath her are her children, and they are trapped in a thin veil of colored plastic - a prison that only the blade of a tender knife can break through. I reach into the pocket above my heart and procure a red switchblade.
I open up the knife and carefully run the tip across, starting from the top left corner and to the bottom right. I close my eyes as I savor the melody of the plastic housing being violated. I close the device and retreat him to my pocket again. My fingers settle in the middle of the coating and I rip it open.
These papers are now free.
I am seated behind a desk of red oak and tinted blood. I am far above the ground- my building is towering over a city I do not call home. Home is to the south, but my castle is here, where I do my job.
I am the architect and grand wizard for an organization I call Silph. My name is James McDermott and I am about to embark on a written journey through schema and torment. My wife is dead, and I was just released from prison.
I unknowingly attempted to strangle my son Matthew- the sole heir of this legacy I have built from the ground up with Ellen.
My fingers breeze through the papers; the sound of footsteps are approaching me. I look up and my half-awake gaze falls upon a woman named Lucia Hale. She has a letter for me, and I take it. As she leaves, I place it upon my desk and sit down.
I have lied. This building belongs to my son, but he is nowhere to be found. I look about his desk. His computer is off, and I flip the switch. There is a paper with all his passwords I keep hidden in my wallet. My son is predictable, but I know him better than anyone else.
I input the password and begin to look through his history. An article regarding a tropical region called Anrui has been extensively looked into.
He is not there. I have called the region a thousand times, but there is nobody that matches his description. It's as if he vanished into thin air. These empty papers at my side are to be used for a single purpose.
I am to erase everything on this computer. I am to print out every article he has researched and compile them.
My name is James McDermott. I am the father of a Matthew Aaron McDermott, of whom inherited my legacy of Silph, and have created an organization that I gave new life meaning.
We are the emperors of Team Rocket. I should be dead- buried next to my wife, but I can't yet die until I discover what happened to my son.
This is quite simply a blank sheet of fresh paper. Beneath her are her children, and they are trapped in a thin veil of colored plastic - a prison that only the blade of a tender knife can break through. I reach into the pocket above my heart and procure a red switchblade.
I open up the knife and carefully run the tip across, starting from the top left corner and to the bottom right. I close my eyes as I savor the melody of the plastic housing being violated. I close the device and retreat him to my pocket again. My fingers settle in the middle of the coating and I rip it open.
These papers are now free.
I am seated behind a desk of red oak and tinted blood. I am far above the ground- my building is towering over a city I do not call home. Home is to the south, but my castle is here, where I do my job.
I am the architect and grand wizard for an organization I call Silph. My name is James McDermott and I am about to embark on a written journey through schema and torment. My wife is dead, and I was just released from prison.
I unknowingly attempted to strangle my son Matthew- the sole heir of this legacy I have built from the ground up with Ellen.
My fingers breeze through the papers; the sound of footsteps are approaching me. I look up and my half-awake gaze falls upon a woman named Lucia Hale. She has a letter for me, and I take it. As she leaves, I place it upon my desk and sit down.
I have lied. This building belongs to my son, but he is nowhere to be found. I look about his desk. His computer is off, and I flip the switch. There is a paper with all his passwords I keep hidden in my wallet. My son is predictable, but I know him better than anyone else.
I input the password and begin to look through his history. An article regarding a tropical region called Anrui has been extensively looked into.
He is not there. I have called the region a thousand times, but there is nobody that matches his description. It's as if he vanished into thin air. These empty papers at my side are to be used for a single purpose.
I am to erase everything on this computer. I am to print out every article he has researched and compile them.
My name is James McDermott. I am the father of a Matthew Aaron McDermott, of whom inherited my legacy of Silph, and have created an organization that I gave new life meaning.
We are the emperors of Team Rocket. I should be dead- buried next to my wife, but I can't yet die until I discover what happened to my son.