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20:20 Hindsight (1390 hits)

Category: UberMadness!

Rating: 0.32 on 65 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
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Submitted by Uber Madness 2004 (View user info) at 2004-10-25 00:00:31 EDT


This post is officially part of UberMadness!.

Click here for more information on the rules and restrictions.

Entry 1

The Lost Episode.

"2020 Hindsight"

"It's time for your medication, Mr. Forrester" the duty nurse said as she stood over the table that George Forrester was working at. George had his head buried in a notebook, furiously scrawling words at a pace that would wear out anybody else on his floor. He looked up at the nurse with his characteristically blank stare. His eyes shifted to her face, the little white cup she was holding, her breasts, her face, and finally the little white cup again. He reached up with his left hand and grabbed the cup ever so gently from her and lifted it to his lips. He tilted it so that the pills, a little red one and a little blue one, fell into his mouth. He put the pill cup down onto the table and reached up again for the cup of water that the nurse was offering him. He tilted that to his mouth also, spilling a little down the left side of his chin as he swallowed and washed the pills down in one gulp. He set that cup down next to the pill cup and dismissed the nurse as if she were never there in the first place. His head went down to the notebook again and he resumed his frantic writing. "Can't stop" was all he could say. "Can't stop."


----------------------------------------1----------------------------------------------------------


"I can't believe it has come to this. I just cannot, for the life of me, understand why I am here. They all should be in here, not me. They all made me do what I did. They all laughed and made faces and talked behind my back. I wish I could see them all now, still doing it to every new person that works there. I wish I had my glasses back. I really wish I had my glasses back........"


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George Forrester was an up and coming associate of the law firm Bendel, Baker, and Black. "The Big B's" as they were known in the profession were aggressive, tough, and intelligent. George was an associate lawyer just starting his career when he caught a lucky break. He met a girl at a party that had a sister that knew someone that had a brother in law that worked for The Big B's. He had found out through her that they were in desperate need of three associate lawyers who were aggressive enough to handle being with the best law firm in the city. George went down the next day with a resume and a dream. It took three weeks, but in the end they had hired him.

Being the new kid on the block at The Big B's was like being the lowest bird in the pecking order. You had to fight for the best cases, but you usually got the shit detail. The work consisted of drawing up agreement drafts, researching information for depositions, getting coffee, all that sort of stuff. It was nothing like what George had thought it would be. George had imagined big cases, big money and beautiful women. What George got was lower level cases, middle of the road money, and no women. As a matter of fact, after three months with the firm, George had a feeling that people were laughing at him. He could feel their eyes upon his neck as he wandered the halls at the firm, looking for a little bit of information here and there, or running errands for one of the partners. Whenever he entered the firms lounge, all talk would cease and everybody would look up at him. He could feel their stares as he went to get himself a cup of coffee. He could hear their whispers as they gossiped about him or made fun of him.

His self esteem was going downhill drastically, but he needed the job. After all, it looked good on the resume to work at such a prestigious firm. "They will all get theirs in the end" he would think as he ignored their condescending behavior. "Someday I'll catch them ridiculing me and I'll have their jobs" he would say aloud to himself at night, right before falling asleep.

It didn't help that George's eyesight was starting to fail. Every time he tried to catch someone mocking him or ridiculing him he had a hard time seeing what they were doing. He figured it must be because of all the reading and computer work that was part of his job. Researching facts all day long was taking its toll on his eyes.

On his way home from work one day he was sidetracked by thoughts of revenge and glory and found himself in an unfamiliar part of town. As he was sitting at a red light he casually squinted around and noticed an opticianry. It was about six thirty in the evening, but the lights at the front of the store were on so he pulled his car around the corner and parked.

"No time like the present" George thought as he got out of the car and walked up to the door of the optical establishment. Above the door, perpendicular to the wall was a large pair of eyeglasses fashioned out of metal. On the front of the door was painted in a very nice script, "2020 Hindsight". Directly below that it read "A different kind of Optical". He opened the door and went in.


----------------------------------------2----------------------------------------------------------


"They were all making fun of me, laughing and pointing. They were making spitting sounds and grabbing their crotches. The women would flip me the bird over and over again. The men would make jerking off motions at me as I walked away. They were all laughing at me constantly. Ridiculing me behind my back like I didn't know, like I couldn't see them. Well I could see them. I could. The joke was on them..........."


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A little bell sounded as George entered the darkened shop. To his right was a coat rack and directly in front of him was what looked like someone's living room. There were plush armchairs and sofas placed strategically around the room. There were also tables residing at the end of each sofa. Little lamps with lampshades edged in fringe were on the tables. The room's dark paisley wallpaper was bathed in a warm light that emanated from these lamps. It reminded George of his grandmother's house in Vancouver. It was old and comfortable. George felt at home almost immediately.

"Welcome to Hindsight!" said the man that appeared out of nowhere to greet him. George was a tad bit startled at the sudden entrance of this man, but he smiled nonetheless. The man seemed cheery enough in his white coat and horn rimmed spectacles. He was partially balding and had longer hair than George would expect on an eye doctor. "I'm Doctor Franklin. Nice to see you have dropped by for a visit!"

"Thank you, Doctor" George managed to get out before the doctor continued. "I was driving by and noticed that you were open. I think I need glasses because I am having a hard time reading my work. My name is George Forrester."

"Well let's get you in for an exam, shall we Mr. Forrester?"

Doctor Franklin took him by the arm and led him around the corner into what looked like an examination room. As George looked around he couldn't help but notice how old all the equipment was. What was more unusual was that it all looked so brand new and shiny, as if it were just unpacked. George was impressed by how Doctor Franklin took care of his equipment. The Doctor sat him down in the exam chair and began asking him questions.


----------------------------------------3----------------------------------------------------------


"I got those fucking glasses and I could see them then. Those bastards thought they had it made but I knew better. I saw all their taunting and their finger motions, all their laughing and their perverted gestures, all their throwing things at me and sticking their tongues out. I saw it all. I saw it all. I saw it all..........."


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As they came out of the examination room, George was thoroughly impressed. Doctor Franklin had given him one heck of an examination. He even explained what each piece of equipment was for and how it was used. George was now an expert on what a slit lamp did and how a phoropter was used. He also learned what a Goldman test was and why optical correction was in diopters. George was also excited because the doctor had told him that his correction was minor but necessary for reading his work. It was a condition called presbyopia which sounded to George like the name of a Presbyterian splinter group. The doctor explained to him that presbyopia is a condition whereby an individual loses the ability to visually accommodate at close range. It affects distance vision also, due to the strain it puts on the eyes. They had a nice conversation in the exam room and George had told Doctor Franklin all about his work at the firm. He had even gone into some of the seedier stuff like office affairs and how he felt about some of his co-workers.

"Sit here please, Mr. Forrester" Doctor Franklin said. "Let me get some glasses for you to try."

Doctor Franklin took George out into the living room area and sat him down in a plush armchair. George was already feeling tired from a long day at work and the armchair put him even more at rest. The soft glow of the lights made him even sleepier and as the doctor left the room momentarily, George put his head back to rest.

After what seemed like just a few minutes, Doctor Franklin was back with a tray of glasses. He explained to George that all of the glasses in the tray had been prepared especially for him. George thought this was strange, but when he tried on the first pair he found that he could read with them on.

"Are these pre-made reading glasses?" George asked the doctor.

"You could say that" Doctor Franklin replied with a smile. "These are special glasses for a special person. They will help you see much better than you normally would. They will help you see everything that you need to."

George didn't question the doctor as he tried on about ten frames. He settled on a tortoise shell pair of horn rimmed glasses. He thought they made him look dashing and intelligent. As he wore them, he found that he could read every little letter on the reading card. It was as if he had super vision. George took the glasses off and got up from his chair. As the doctor watched, George crossed the room to a painting on the wall, and put his glasses on to study the painting up close. He was looking at all the fine detail on the painting when he noticed movement in his periphery. He concentrated on that movement and found that with a little focusing he could see what was happening behind him. He could see the doctor sitting in the chair opposite of where George had been sitting. He could see the doctor beaming with delight. He could see a rosy red aura around the doctor's body and he could see heat emanating from the top of the doctors head. He could also see the doctor picking his nose and flinging it at him.

"Hey!" George exclaimed as he turned around to look at Doctor Franklin. "Stop that!"

Doctor Franklin looked up at George with a smile. He had been rearranging the frames in the case that he was holding.

"Stop what?" said the doctor.

"You........you........what were you just doing?" George asked tentatively.

"Just getting these frames ready to be put back." The doctor said. "Are you feeling well Mr. Forrester?"

George removed his glasses and examined them. There were no mirrors or anything else unusual about them. "Guess I'm just a little tired. I think maybe I need to get home and relax. I'll take these."

After paying a reasonable sum of one hundred and fifty dollars, George bid Doctor Franklin goodbye. As he was headed out the door, Doctor Franklin offered him an eyeglass case, a business card, a handshake, and a bit of advice.

"Sometimes we see well enough without correction Mr. Forrester. Sometimes we see more than we want to with glasses. Be careful with what you've purchased today my friend. True clarity of vision is hard to come by and when we have it, it may not be what we truly want. Good luck and good night."

George was puzzled as he left the office. He opened the door, the little bell rang again, and he stepped out into the cold night. On the way to his car he looked at his watch. Ten thirty was what it read. He could not believe that he had been in the doctor's office for nearly four hours.

"Time flies" George thought as he got into his car. He took the business card out of the case, put his glasses on, and read it.

The card was a midnight blue color. In the middle of the card, written in a nice, white script it said,

"2020 Hindsight"

Then across the bottom of the card, also in white was printed,

"The eyes are the windows to the soul."

George pocketed the card, started the car up, and headed for home.


----------------------------------------4----------------------------------------------------------


"How can people be so sneaky? So despicable? They were all crafty in how they did it too. One minute they would be ridiculing me behind my back, the next minute they were sitting there looking at me like I was crazy. I AM NOT CRAZY! Those bastards were good. No wonder they were working for the best goddamn firm in the city. They were sharp. Smart. Fast. They were so fast that I never caught them outright doing the things they were doing. I could see them, but no matter how fast I was, they were faster. They were faster. I couldn't figure it out. I had to stop them........."


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


George went to work the next day with his new glasses tucked neatly into the breast pocket of his suit coat. He was feeling pretty good and thought that he would have a productive day now that he could read better. He entered his firm to what he thought were smiles and greetings from his associates. "So far, so good" he thought to himself as he sat down and dug into the stack of papers on his desk. He carefully reached into his pocket and pulled out his glasses. As he slipped them on, he realized that now everything was going to be better. He read through the Martin divorce easily and was well on his way through the Sheckler-Harrison property dispute when Dick Bendel's secretary knocked on his door.

"Come in" George said, and Jill Salisbury came walking into his office. As she sat down in the armchair across the desk from George, she smiled. George always liked Jill and had, on more than one occasion, pleasured himself to her visage. She had a very pretty face and legs to die for. She was always dressed to the nines and wore her makeup like a professional.

"Hi George" Jill said. "Dick wanted me to come in and get the Fowler file from you. He has a little research to do getting ready for the pre-trial. Could you be a sweetheart and get it for me?"

"Sure thing Jill. It's right here in my cabinet." George replied.

As he turned around in his chair to get the file, George sensed movement in his periphery. As he looked for the file, he glanced at the motion and could see Jill very clearly behind him. She had propped both her legs up on his desk and had her left hand buried under the folds of her skirt. Her right hand was massaging her right breast and her head was tilted back over the top of the chair. As he pretended to look for the file, he watched as she started to move her hips back and forth with the rhythm of her hand. She then picked her head up and looked directly at him, her tongue darting out to lick her lips suggestively. He reached down and felt the hardness between his legs.

"You like that don't you" George remarked to her as he turned around, file in one hand, bulge in the other. A big, lewd smile had appeared on his face.

Jill gave him a funny look. "Like what?"

George could see now that she was sitting in an upright position, hands folded across her lap. He could also see her look of disgust as her eyes went from his face to the hand massaging his bulge.

George instantly pulled his hand away from his crotch and pulled his chair forward so that his lap was hidden under his desk. He could feel his face getting red with embarrassment but there was nothing he could do.

"I saw that, you know" George said to her as he handed her the Fowler file. "I saw it and I was hoping you felt that way about me."

Jill looked frightened as she grabbed the file away from him and immediately stood up. "Are you ok, George?" she said as she backed away from George's desk quickly. "Yes, and it seems you are too, Jill" was George's reply. When Jill got to his office door she left quickly and quietly.

George tried to reason with himself about what had just happened as he got up to get some coffee. He flipped his glasses up on his head and walked down the hall to the lounge. As he entered the lounge, three associates from accounting were sitting at the table talking amongst each other. As George crossed the room, their talking stopped. He paid no attention to them as he crossed to the coffee maker. He lowered his glasses down onto the bridge of his nose as he poured his coffee. As he looked into his periphery, he immediately saw the three associates behind him. The two men were flipping him their middle fingers with both hands. They were also sticking their tongues out at him. The woman had a handful of her crotch with both hands, swaying her hips suggestively at him. The look on all of their faces was pure hatred and disgust. The rage was rolling off of them in waves.

George wheeled around, spilling coffee all over the counter and walls of the lounge.

"Hey! Cut that shit out right........" George cut his sentence short when he noticed that the three accountants were just sitting there reading what was left of the newspaper. They all looked up at him, startled and confused.

"What are you talking about, George?" the woman said to him, a little fear in her eyes and on her tongue.

"Yes, what's up man?" said one of the other men.

George stood there for a moment and then put the coffee cup that he was holding down onto the counter. He refused to talk with them as he stormed out of the room and back to his office. Once there, he closed the door behind him and tried to look at the days events with reason. He couldn't figure it out, but he knew the doctor had given him a gift. He was able to see what was going on behind his back. He could see the ridicule and shame he was being subjected to. He knew it all along, but now he had proof. They did all hate him. They were all making fun of him. His suspicions were all confirmed. He would have to monitor it all very closely.


----------------------------------------5----------------------------------------------------------


"They thought they were so smart. They thought that they could hide it from me. Ha! They weren't smart enough. I caught them. I beat them at their own game. I stopped them all from doing it to others. They thought they were so cool, so good looking, so sexy. They weren't though. I showed them that they weren't. I taught them humility. I made them stand up and take notice. I SHOWED THEM WHO I WAS! I EXPOSED THEM..........!"


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


George drove back to the optical shop that he bought the glasses from to see Doctor Franklin. He wanted to ask him about the nature of his glasses. He thought he made the correct turn when he went back, but he just couldn't find the place. He didn't quite remember how he had got there in the first place and he wasn't sure what street it was on. There was no listing in the phone book for 2020 Hindsight Optical, and there was no telephone number or address on the business card so after awhile, he just gave up looking.

The people at work were continually harassing him. Everyday he saw someone making gestures or pointing at him and laughing in his periphery. He recorded it all in a personal journal in case he was fired unjustly. After all, he found out with the help of his glasses that everybody there hated him.

After a month, George was counseled at work for his strange habit of accusing people of doing strange and horrible things. After two months, George was fired. Allegedly, he had witnessed associates doing all sorts of strange things behind his back. They were having sex, making lewd gestures, flinging fluids at him, and calling him every name in the book. He didn't go down easy. As they were dragging him out, he accused everyone from the partners on down to the mail staff of everything from harassment to throwing feces at him during work hours. Everyone's fears had come true. George Forrester had gone off the deep end. His lawsuit was summarily dismissed and his name ruined as a matter of public record. It didn't help that he accused the Judge as well as the people in the jury of ridiculing him as he tried to defend himself. He had seen them after all. He had seen them in his peripheral vision with his glasses on.


----------------------------------------6----------------------------------------------------------


"........and now I'm in here. Serling Memorial Hospital, Seventh Floor. Psycho ward. How did I get here? How did I get here? How did I get here? How did I get here? I don't belong here. I don't belong here. I'M NOT CRAZY! They had it coming. After what they put me through, they all deserved it. Those fucking cops....those bastards....they deserved it too. They are the ones, they are all crazy. Fuck them. Fuck them. Fuck them. Fuck them............"


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Three days after his lawsuit was thrown out of court, George was arrested as he was walking down the street towards Bendel, Baker, and Black. He was wearing army fatigues and was carrying a loaded M-16 rifle, an AK-47, two different handguns, one of which was a Glock 9mm, the other a .357 magnum. He had a knife strapped to each thigh. He had three hand grenades attached to a belt around his waist, and he was wearing a complete set of full body armor under his fatigues. When the cops stopped him and asked him where he was going, all he replied was, "To hell."


----------------------------------------7----------------------------------------------------------


"I can't wait to get out of here. Two, maybe three more years and I'll be free. I'm going back to get them all. They say they won't give me my glasses back, but I'll get them too. I'll get those glasses. I'll see how everybody in the world feels about me. I'll know when to get revenge. I'll be smart this time.....I'll be smart this time...........Where are my fucking glasses. Stop laughing at me. Stop it. STOP IT!!!!"


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


George kept his head down and continued to write. The nurse scooped up both cups off of the table and turned to walk away. As she did, George bolted upright in his chair and turned around to face all the rest of the patients in the room with him.

"STOP LAUGHING AT ME YOU FUCKERS, STOP MOCKING ME!"

Only this time, they actually were laughing. George didn't need glasses to see that.



Submitted for your approval. George Forrester. An up and coming lawyer with just a bit of a self esteem problem. His insecurities got the better of him after he found out that how you feel inside can sometimes alter reality permanently. As his vision failed him he decided that it is time for a correction. He got that correction in the form of a gift that was not quite welcome but not unwelcome either. This particular gift of "Hindsight" was not necessarily 2020. His reality came in the form of a set of glasses. Glasses purchased............in the Twilight Zone.


submitted for your approval.jpg (16 kB)


- VS -


Entry 2

Hindsight 20/20

The cold wind ruffled my open wool ski jacket, piercing my thinly insulated body underneath it. So I zipped my jacket shut.

People just don't like me. I'm a hard ass, or so I've been told. My parents said it to me when I was just a young child, and my children said the same thing as they grew old enough to realize their father was a real asshole and not the man their innocent eyes wanted to believe.

Reaching deep into my pockets, I feel the cold steel of a metal flask stashed inside. Filled to the top with vodka, it was my only friend left in the world.

I remember my first friend.

Merely ten years old, both Bobby Jensen and I enjoyed our surprise break from school after a two day long blizzard. My dad piled the snow high at the end of the driveway, next to the sidewalk that ran across the length of the yard. What was hard work for him was a special treat for us.

The game was "king of the hill". All the neighbors were gathered staking their claim as the king on the top of the towering hill. Having a win-at-all cost type of personality, I controlled my foes well. Quickly claiming the top of the hill as my own, I'd steadily turn away anyone else attempting to steal my status by burying their faces in the snow or knocking them back to the ground. Most laughed, some cried, and in the end most kids left dejected after I persisted without giving an inch.

Bobby was different. He had a determination to defeat me that was rare in most of the neighborhood kids. As I grew weak, desperate action would have to be taken. This would come in the form of a grab, hold, spin move that would relocate my friend from the sidewalk side of the hill to the street side. I dropped him back in time for my victory to be cemented in place by a snow plow that would carry Bobby away.

Luckily for Bobby, the plow had just turned the corner and was going slow. It simply picked him up, tumbled him around a few times and deposited him back out in a snow back and the end of someone's driveway a few houses down the road. He survived as the neighbors who witnessed the event dug him out quickly. It would be the last day I would ever speak to my friend.

That's just what kind of guy I had always been. I'm getting angry now that my flask of vodka appears to be nearing the half mark. But in a way this flask was just like the story of my life. I took big swigs without concerning myself of consequences, and was draining away my existence faster much than I should be doing.

Sixteen years old is a great age. I drank beers at my friends house like there was no tomorrow. I couldn't see straight, could barely stand, and yet I'd ask a friend to pass along another beer. At the time, it tasted like shit but I felt weird in a good way so I kept drinking. Everything was a haze, but I loved it because I was happy.

Getting into the folk's Plymouth Acclaim sedan I barely remember the ride home. I hit a wild animal that dashed across the street. It appeared to be a small deer, dog or something to that effect. I couldn't care less as I was drunk as hell and didn't need to stop.

A little bit further down the road, I remembered seeing something about that deer I hit that was odd. I had to ask myself, "Do dogs wear Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle T-Shirts"? I had claimed a young human life which I covered up by mentioning this no nobody. I carried it inside to this very day.

My flask is getting mighty light. My anger seems to be rising over this fact, and yet I continue to wander out over a steel bridge on this cold winter evening.

A flag is ruffling above making loud snapping noises as the gusts pound it into submission. The winds have picked up and are blistering cold.

I made so many mistakes, some so stupid I cannot imagine what I was thinking at the time. Needing time to reflect, I hopped the railing over to a ledge where I could sit and ponder my life while overlooking the beautiful moon which was provided a wavy image on the water below.

My job was a good thing in my life. Everything was great until a position opened up and was filled by the bosses' son. He was shoehorned into a position he wasn't qualified for which, in turn, gave the rest of us a lot of grief having to baby sit the guy. Most people simply shunned Joshua Stevens as a bastard that didn't belong and one they'd be sure to see leave somehow.

I felt sympathy for the guy. Here was this young, physically fit, good looking fellow that couldn't get any of the women of the place to talk to him and none of the men would ever offer to take him out after the workday for a cool beer. He was still part of the team, and this just didn't seem right.

Someone would have to break the ice with the guy, and that would be me. It would occur on a lunch break when he was eating a home made sandwich and washing it down with Yoo-hoo, a chocolate beverage most similar to chocolate milk but different in an odd sort of a way. I figured I would spark the conversation.

"Yoo-hoo, eh?"

He looked up at me and nodded. "I live for this stuff. I think I can drink more of these than anyone on earth."

Damn you, bastard. Damn you to hell, Joshua Stevens. The tone, the situation, the stars and the planets aligned right, this was a situation ripe for trouble.

You see, bored people do stupid things. I would say men do stupid things more than women. It is in our blood from the genes passed down from hunting man for thousands of years. This was a remnant of "the game". Now, locked away in a cubicle the raw human inside of us breaks through and we can see our true nature. My response was uncalled for.

"Well, I don't believe you." I responded arrogantly. "But I believe I can do it."

And with that, it was on. You heard it right, a childish game called a Yoo-hoo drinking contest was in order. We had someone run to the local AM/PM convenient store and pick up as many cool cans of the beverage known as Yoo-hoo. That number would be 45 cans.

Everyone in the office stopped what they were doing and surrounded his desk as we pounded down one Yoo-hoo after the other.

"I've got you." I said downing my 11th Yoo-Hoo. I had felt sick. Worse than that, I had felt like vomiting and defecating at the same time. I held strong, my will was better than anyone I know.

"No way." Joshua smiled in response finishing his 10th can of the delicious chocolate drink.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" An angry voice boomed. The boss was standing there wearing an angry scowl. It was a frightening scene, but not half as frightening when that scowl turned into concern and fear. He rushed to his son, knocking the Yoo-hoo out of his hand and demanded the nearest person call an ambulance.

"What the hell? It is just a joke. What is the big deal?" A friend of mine asked him. He was good with the boss, he figured he could get away with his casual chat with him.

"A joke? A fucking joke? My son is allergic to chocolate." His voice quivered with fear. Everyone was silent. "Josh, I told you not to drink any of this stuff. You insisted that one can didn't affect you, and now look what has happened. You can't take mine or your own advice."

Poor Joshua went into anaphylactic shock. It was my fault. I did the same thing to Joshua that I had done to little Bobby Jensen many years before. This time we weren't so lucky and I'd be going to Joshua's funeral. A week later I was released from my duties with the company.


My flask was now staring at me while emptied out. I tipped it over as to not waste one precious drop of the alcohol. I could have raised that flask to my face and refilled it. Tears were streaming down my face as I recalled the night that drove a spike through my heart that I could never recover from.

My wife of ten years confronted me with indisputable evidence of my affair with a much younger woman. I admitted everything hoping for a quick reconciliation. I was wrong.

She took the children, packed up her things and left me alone in a large home that reminded me every second of the life I had lost by doing something stupid. I sacrificed a lifetime of happiness for a few days of a silly fling.

I looked right into her eyes as she said goodbye and I felt the pain I had caused. I killed Joshua with less pain than I saw in those eyes the night she left. Those eyes burned through me and I could never forget the intensity and the finality of the situation. At least, when I was sober I couldn't forget it.

After all these years, there are so many memories of what we would like to do differently. Looking back, the choices seem so obvious. Why don't we do the right thing when it is staring us in the face?

Out of all the messed up things I could have done in my life, there was one that was much worse than all the others combined. I had let go of the railing and sailed into the water below the bridge. All the other mistakes, no matter how bad they were, could be made up somehow.

I could call up Bobby and see how he is doing, inviting him over to thanksgiving. I could finally accept that it was ultimately Joshua's fault for his own death as he knew he was allergic to chocolate and I didn't know. Blaming myself was so easy, and in losing my wife I would do the same thing. I could have said I'm sorry a million times. I have a responsibility to my child to have been there for him, and as a husband to my wife. Maybe things would have never worked out between us to reconcile, but we could have reached a middle ground where she wouldn't hate me.

This last decision was final. It was death. The last chapter of a long book of selfishness, greed, and anger.

I can see the moon above me shining brightly in the winter sky. I hear voices talking and feel a tugging at my jacket. I had survived the fall and was being placed into an ambulance that rushed to the scene.

Another memory to add to those to reflect on and make amends for my past failings. Hindsight is 20/20, but learning from our mistakes isn't so obvious.




Entry 1:
  Bigmike
  cexshun
  Circe
  Coyote
  DanJaines
  Dirtbird
  DonkeyOnTheEdge
  Durae
  electrictoothsyndrome
  engine13
  Fulcrum
  FunnyAsCancer
  godking
  hcp28
  jack11058
  Jack_McCallum
  jimbo
  JonnyX
  katydid
  Kazzerax
  LadyPlural
  lessthanfour
  Method
  munkeypants
  MyNameIsTim
  omnifica
  russizm
  ruthless
  salmonofdoubt
  sebcharrot
  sparkle_pink
  SPECIALk
  tlozoot
  wazzawazzayo
  Wiggles
  WiKi
  William_Q_Percy
  WillZone
  Yes

  31 eligible votes (39 total) *

Entry 2:
  Adamdidit2u
  Allyson
  Disektor
  FilthyAssistant
  Gnome
  Herpes
  humor_me
  NerfHerder
  polyamorousaj
  runninginplace
  ScoutCJustice
  Stabkill
  steph
  stevie_says
  thaumaturge
  tinactin
  xenon

  15 eligible votes (17 total) *


* Eligible votes are those made by users who had either (A) posted 3+ messages OR (B) written 100+ [lowered from 750+] reviews as of the beginning of the UberMadness! competition.
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User Reviews


Submitted by hockyman (user info) at 2004-10-28 22:23:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

No Comment

Submitted by tech-junkie (user info) at 2004-10-28 00:38:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

very good

Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2004-10-28 00:02:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Nice job, Stabkill.

Submitted by katydid (user info) at 2004-10-27 17:41:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Herpes (user info) at 2004-10-27 17:14:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by lessthanfour (user info) at 2004-10-27 16:12:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

wtf i'm not reading all of that.

Submitted by Yes (user info) at 2004-10-27 15:52:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by thaumaturge (user info) at 2004-10-27 15:12:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by hcp28 (user info) at 2004-10-27 14:20:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

So fucking long!!!

Submitted by wazzawazzayo (user info) at 2004-10-27 09:30:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Crap. Very tough call.

It's like something out of that twilighty show about that zone.

Submitted by steph (user info) at 2004-10-27 04:39:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by Wiggles (user info) at 2004-10-27 03:38:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by Author of Entry Two at 2004-10-27 01:58:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

You were right about the last couple lines, Gnome. I entered this post nearly exactly at midnight. (the lag time before the post actually put it after midnight!) And typed it in two hours from a thought in my head to what you saw. I edited it up until the last few paragraphs and I HATE the last line. It came out wrong, but it was just a "rough draft" part that never got fixed.

Good show Author 1. Maybe I will try to actually do good next Ubermadness ... if there is one.

Submitted by Gnome (user info) at 2004-10-27 01:32:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

1 was a really good idea but i saw the end loooong before it ended and lost interest once i figured it out.

2 was really good until the last couple lines. purely opinion, but it just didn't work for me.


vote gotes to 2

Submitted by Author of entry One at 2004-10-27 00:08:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2004-10-26 23:57:15 (#)
Ranking: 0

Bad T-Zone knockoff VS self-pity party. Crapola.



Ouch.

Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2004-10-26 23:57:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Bad T-Zone knockoff VS self-pity party. Crapola.

Submitted by Durae (user info) at 2004-10-26 23:26:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

entry one was more creative.

Submitted by Author of Entry One at 2004-10-26 23:22:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Submitted by FilthyAssistant (user info) at 2004-10-26 14:18:44 (#)
Ranking: 0

Wasn't particularly fond of either, but entry one - longer doesn't always equal better. It was pretty obvious where you were going to go and yet you took an eon getting there. Kinda tiring after a while.


I understand Filthy. I'm sorry that it was so obvious for you. My condolences.

It's just the way the story came out. I was going to cut it down, but I was happy with how it was. It wasn't like I said to myself "Hmmmm, I wonder how long I can make my entry?" It just happened that way. I realize that longer isn't always better, but when it naturally happens that way, I am reluctant to cut if I don't think it's needed.

Submitted by Method (user info) at 2004-10-26 20:23:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by DanJaines (user info) at 2004-10-26 19:51:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

feh. #1.

Submitted by Kazzerax (user info) at 2004-10-26 19:43:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

drunks are cool, but the twilight zone is awesome

Submitted by tlozoot (user info) at 2004-10-26 17:56:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

The whole Yahoo thing doesn't really make any sense.

Submitted by russizm (user info) at 2004-10-26 17:52:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by omnifica (user info) at 2004-10-26 16:52:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2004-10-26 16:42:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

it was a really difficult decision.

Submitted by runninginplace (user info) at 2004-10-26 15:07:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by FilthyAssistant (user info) at 2004-10-26 14:18:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Wasn't particularly fond of either, but entry one - longer doesn't always equal better. It was pretty obvious where you were going to go and yet you took an eon getting there. Kinda tiring after a while.

Submitted by xenon (user info) at 2004-10-26 14:08:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by engine13 (user info) at 2004-10-26 14:08:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by godking (user info) at 2004-10-26 13:46:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2004-10-26 11:20:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by jack11058 (user info) at 2004-10-26 06:22:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

i didn't think entry 1 needed to go with the full fledged twilight zone finish. it took away from a great and nicely written story. but i still liked it better than entry 2.

Submitted by Author of entry 2 at 2004-10-26 02:02:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

I had the idea in my head, but I failed to execute as I typed it up in two hours (guess which 2) and didn't even proofread the last 1/4 of it. I would have liked to find time to have attached a decent photograph, but that's what I get for slacking.

Twilight Zone? Don't kill the tiny alien that crashed his ship into your attic. Don't smash your only set of reading glasses after you've locked yourself in a room full of books after nuclear devestation. I saw a man on the wing! Everyone doesn't move in this world as it appears frozen in time...why? Because you are dead, astronaut. Ahhhh, I can go on and on. Honoring that show is worthy enough alone. Great job, author 1. I DID expect something good, however!

Submitted by ScoutCJustice (user info) at 2004-10-26 01:39:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

This is the stuff legends are made of. This is the hardest choice I've had to make yet. Both of these entries were spectacular. I'm of the opinion that the losing author on this post should take the spot of the winner of Cultured because niether of these two authors should be out of the tournament.

Submitted by Author of Entry 1 at 2004-10-25 22:33:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Author 2, I think you did a great job with this title. Better than I thought you would actually.

It's a hard title to work with.

Nice job.

Submitted by NerfHerder (user info) at 2004-10-25 21:25:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by DonkeyOnTheEdge (user info) at 2004-10-25 21:21:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by salmonofdoubt (user info) at 2004-10-25 19:08:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by sebcharrot (user info) at 2004-10-25 17:49:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by WiKi (user info) at 2004-10-25 16:31:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2004-10-25 16:02:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2004-10-25 15:48:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Not too strong of a beginning, but decent story.

Submitted by jimbo (user info) at 2004-10-25 15:30:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by Dirtbird (user info) at 2004-10-25 15:13:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by humor_me (user info) at 2004-10-25 15:11:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by ruthless (user info) at 2004-10-25 14:02:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2004-10-25 13:19:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

Twilight Zone rocks!

Submitted by cexshun (user info) at 2004-10-25 13:06:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

#1 was good, but the cutting to the journal entries was tiresome. I just couldn't feel #2 though. vote #1

Submitted by Adamdidit2u (user info) at 2004-10-25 12:13:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by William_Q_Percy (user info) at 2004-10-25 11:09:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Pimp

Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2004-10-25 09:49:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by Stabkill (user info) at 2004-10-25 08:53:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by WillZone (user info) at 2004-10-25 08:15:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

picture rule....auto #1

Submitted by tinactin (user info) at 2004-10-25 02:51:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by SPECIALk (user info) at 2004-10-25 02:51:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Fulcrum (user info) at 2004-10-25 02:50:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Woo twilight zone.

Submitted by Random Joe at 2004-10-25 02:50:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Awesome!

Submitted by Allyson (user info) at 2004-10-25 02:34:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by Disektor (user info) at 2004-10-25 02:26:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by stevie_says (user info) at 2004-10-25 02:07:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

i dragged my mouse randomly across the two entries and ended up with two.

Submitted by electrictoothsyndrome (user info) at 2004-10-25 01:58:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

I identified with bot of these characters, for I too, had been involved in a hit and run with a Ninja Turtle, and am able to see those that ridicule me out of the corners of my eyes...sitting all smug...thinking they're so fucking smart...thinking they are somehow superior. They don't even have a clue what I am capable of.

Submitted by sparkle_pink (user info) at 2004-10-25 01:13:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2004-10-25 00:50:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by polyamorousaj (user info) at 2004-10-25 00:43:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No Comment

Submitted by FunnyAsCancer (user info) at 2004-10-25 00:23:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Twilight Zone > all

32 seconds late. Tsk tsk.


It's not easy to juggle a pregnant wife and a troubled child, but
somehow I managed to squeeze in 8 hours of TV a day.

-- Homer Simpson
Lisa's First Word