In the wee hours of the morning on May 25, 2017 I heard someone say that the ether was corrupted and needed to be cleansed. I didn't know how the ether could become corrupted, given that it was God's ether, but I proceeded to hear the person shamrock the ether in four directions. I saw body parts flying as the ether was shamrocked, and knew that the ether been subject to corruption, and I was one of its victims.
I didn't know why I had fallen asleep, but it seems that I was put to sleep with the expectation that if I didn't awaken, they could throw a party in my honor. I was still at work, and had apparently spent the night there. I looked around me and saw that the cremation order I had just signed was on my desk, not in the drawer where I had placed it, and my will was next to it. I had not looked at my will in decades, but someone knew where it was, and had made its existence known. Someone who knew that I would not take kindly to being the party pooper, and had set the tables all around me with beer and wine and liquor. Someone who decided that my time at work should end. Someone whom the ether thought was a kind and treasured friend. Someone whom I myself would have given my life to defend. Someone who betrayed me for a $100 stipend. Someone who should stand trial, but never will, because they said that Weapons Of Mass Destruction don't exist. Michael West Germany
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AuthorRebekah Isaac Archives
December 2020
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