That time again

The concept of time had left him long ago.  Meals were never at set times and what little exercise he received, was always in the dark.  All he knew was that when the lights came on, The door opened and it was time to go.

The guard was not the same one as before, the green and red uniform shone in the harsh lights of the corridor outside his cell.  The same aggressive manner was present though.

Words were spoken by the guard and he heard mention of his wife.  The mist descended quickly and it took four other guards to stop him killing the first one.  He feigned injury to stop the beating early but not before he had made sure that the guard would not forget him in a hurry.

Bundled into the white room, hidden jets did their magic and minutes later he was clean, de-loused with his beard and hair cut to the regulation length.

“Come on Nick, your uniform is over there”

He heaved a great sigh.  That was not his name and they knew it.  Closing his eyes allowed him a moments serenity.  This was just how it was now.  They had taken over and this was what he had to do to survive.  Opening his eyes, he saw the uniform on a hanger in the corner.  They had changed the colour a while ago, like many things, they wanted a corporate look.  Gone were the days of the colours of the forest.

Why had he not stopped it back then?

He dressed as slowly as he could.  The time was of the utmost importance to them and he was going to make them worry.  Glancing out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the big clock on the wall.  It ticked the time down until he was due to be returned to the darkness of his cell.

A door slid open in the smoothness of the white rooms wall and several guards inched inside.  The lead one held a dull silver collar.  He knew the drill and let them put it on him with no struggle.  After what had happened the first time they had done this, he was not going to put anyone else at risk.

The guards surrounded him and they walked to the main entrance.  Outside the snow was swirling around and the chill hit him hard.  The uniform started to heat up automatically.  At least that was an improvement on the old days, he thought.  Far too many nights in freezing temperatures had left their mark on him.  He was still far from the man he used to be but at least he was now warm.

His vehicle stood shining in the bases lights.  It still filled him with pride when he saw it.  It meant something still.  Not what it did but still something important.  The animals had been hitched and he spent some time stroking and talking to them.  This was an important part of the ritual.  While he may be a criminal, at least he had standards.

The leader stepped out of the snow and pressed a button on his belt.  It was time.

“Kringle, you know what you have to do.  Complete the task and get back in time and your wife and children will be allowed to live for another year.”

The Leader paused, a smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

“Of course….if you fail….well….you know how that will end.  Don’t you?”

Kringle nodded.

Only a master thief could ever get in and out of the millions of houses in the time allotted and he was the best.

He boarded the sleigh and with a shout, he was away.

Behind him on the ground, the timer ticked down constantly.

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In your eyes, I can see your soul

The storm had hit not long after 6pm that wintry evening.  Old Andrew from down the road, was still outside with his camera and I did think that I should go and persuade him to go inside.  The night would brighten up occasionally from the lightning, almost painting the landscape outside my window with light.  In between that, a smaller, more localised area would be illuminated.  It took me a fair while to realise it was Andrews camera flash.

What is he taking pictures of?  Endless pictures of rain?

Eventually curiosity got the better of me and I grabbed my thickest coat and headed outside.  The material would withstand the weather better than most, it was a necessity out here.  Leaving the warm safety of my house, I walked against the rain towards the lone figure in the distance.  The gutters were flooded all along the street and the excess water was spilling onto the concrete, creating an almost beautiful rhythm.  It did not make the icy daggers of raindrops that hammered against my face, any less painful.

Almost there.

The flashes were more frequent now both from nature and Andrew.  The gaps between the flash and the thunder were less than a second apart.

“Andrew, what are you doing man?” I shouted, grabbing him by the shoulder as I reached him.

He turned, a look of almost serene peace on his face.  His eyes focused on mine and he smiled.  Then he turned and took another picture, aiming his camera almost at random at the sky.

“Can you see it?”

I admit I saw nothing.  I gripped his arm firmly and tried to lead him back home.

“No I cant leave.  He is out there somewhere, just waiting for us.”

The old mans voice was surprisingly strong for someone whose body looked so frail.

“Come now Andrew, we have to get indoors.”  I may as well have been whispering the amount of notice he took of me.  Shaking off my hand, he turned to the sky and took another picture.  The timing could not have been better as the sky lit up brighter than I had ever imagined.  The lightning combined with the cameras flash made it look like the middle of a bright summers day.

I could see individual houses on the nearby hills.  Rivers flowing down a mountain, into the sea.  Fishing boats, bobbing around in the storms wind while the waves crashed against the harbour wall.

None of those things were real.  They couldn’t be, I lived in the centre of the city.

Seeing my reaction, Andrew laughed.

“You see it don’t you?”

I nodded as the light faded, leaving after images burned into my vision until they too slowly faded to black.

“Now listen son, just listen.”

So I did.

I really wish I hadn’t.

When I returned home, I switched off my house lights and stared out into the city.

Everything had changed now.

If you are reading this, then it has worked

I am trying a new way to communicate with the past.  I have no idea if it will work.  Indeed if it does, then I will never know.  If the lessons I tell you about here are received and understood, then the changes that you will make will resonate across time and my reality will be re-written in such a way that I will be unaware of the changes.

I hope this happens.

You have no idea how much I hope it does.

Last night I walked home under the sodium lighting of the streetlamps.  One each and every third one there is a combined camera and microphone.  The enemy is everywhere we are told.  Personal freedom is no longer an option.  If something is not done now to stop the enemies of our state, then they will have won.  So on average, every walk home means I am recorded about four thousand times, give or take.

I often wonder who watches it all.  Who is given the job of keeping tabs on me.  Do I have my own agent, who observes everything I do and say, in the hope that I can be arrested and detained without charge?  These are the things that keep me awake at night.

It was during the most recent of these sleepless nights I decided to do something.  My room is spacious at least but it is also full of electronic equipment that is always on.  I may plan against the state in the comfort of my own room, so they monitor me constantly.

They are doing this to everyone though, well everyone except the high up politicians of course.  They are exempt because….well because!

You see, something has gone very wrong with this world.  I do not know when you are receiving this, assuming that someone is, but here it is year 23.  I vaguely remember a time before that had a different date but like so much from those days, it is fuzzy and remains in the shadows of my mind, unwilling or unable to come out into the light.

They say it is in the food.  Yet I am told by the newsmedia, that the traitors would say that.

Yes I cannot shake the feeling that it was not always like this.  Hence why I am sending this warning to you.  At the moment my watchers can see me lying down in my bed.  The temperature of the room is the fixed one of a sleeping person and as far as they are aware, I am almost asleep.

However in my mind I am sat at a giant typewriter with normal sized keys.  Each keystroke is making a satisfying noise that pleases me.  I am writing this to you in my imagination and sending it via the power of my mind, through the eras.

I hope.

So what warnings do I have?  Well firstly I would not know exactly where to start.  This all seems so normal now, as if it has always been like this.  At some point our personal freedom was taken away.  Since it is unlikely to have happened in one go, due to what I would expect would be a public uproar, it came slowly, over the course of many years.  A little taken  away every so often and those who speak out, labelled as mad, traitors and worse.  Keep an eye out for the start of that.  I have a feeling that may be the only time it can be stopped dead.

Also watch out for the rise in division between people.  Races, sexes, religions all pitted against each other. A divided populace is easier to control certainly but with that comes violence.  Not a day goes by without the newsmedia reporting of another group of traitors attacking the ordinary people.  The proud people.  The right people.

Everything here is now red, white and blue.  Those are the correct colours apparently but only those three and only in the correct sanctioned patterns.

Sometimes it looks pretty though but mostly it is garish.  A few outlets for individuality are allowed but it is all controlled and the illusion of choice is just that.  I am currently classed as a Red but for a long while I wore only White.

Someone has turned up the speakers in my living space.  The outside interference is making it hard to…..

Hard to..

Har….

Everything is Red, White and Blue now.  Choose colour.  Any colour.  Mix your colours.

Mix…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They know.