<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4683600811564732321</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:35:41.911-07:00</updated><category term='absurd dream'/><category term='grey dream'/><category term='twilight dream'/><category term='dream rant'/><category term='dark dream'/><category term='light grey dream'/><title type='text'>Shades of grey stories</title><subtitle type='html'>This is where I'll be posting stories that have come out of my dreams, some are fairy tail-ish, some are dark, but mostly grey... so don't take it too seriously, after all dreams are there to be enjoyed...or are they?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>kuronoraito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15276414883444778422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9g6Q5NaCwXA/SMW-bx123DI/AAAAAAAAAE0/KDzQzrAB83Y/S220/coffee+by+beach.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4683600811564732321.post-7922223703085259915</id><published>2008-09-14T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T13:25:44.769-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twilight dream'/><title type='text'>Into the wild</title><content type='html'>It runs through the mountains, through the valley of flowers, under the black bridge, leaping over obstacles, the ground shakes as the giant beings close up upon it, its legs trying to grip the slippery surface of the land, leaping and darting through the rows of tall over bearing ledges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hides, bidding its time as the giants wanders around looking for it. Hours pass, it peeks its head out, the light of the day is gone, displaced by the darkness of the night, the white moon always there, always giving out its pale light, silhouetting it against the background of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a short one here, it's about my hamster, well one of mine thats still alive I think, escaping it's cage, it has become a wild urban hamster, living it's life in the wilderness of my house... Some  times you can see it darting under the shelf or the cabinet, scrounging for food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigh, I miss my hamsters&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4683600811564732321-7922223703085259915?l=shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7922223703085259915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4683600811564732321&amp;postID=7922223703085259915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/7922223703085259915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/7922223703085259915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/2008/09/into-wild.html' title='Into the wild'/><author><name>kuronoraito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15276414883444778422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9g6Q5NaCwXA/SMW-bx123DI/AAAAAAAAAE0/KDzQzrAB83Y/S220/coffee+by+beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4683600811564732321.post-217753491103976058</id><published>2008-09-14T13:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T13:06:30.635-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twilight dream'/><title type='text'>clickety clack</title><content type='html'>clickety clack, clickety clack goes my keyboard button, words streaming out almost with out thoughts, what ever am I thinking right now, it's on the monitor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;clickety clack clickety clack, these words of mine, are they mine or someones else, as I dream, pictures come forth, my fingers trasliterating them on my laptop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;clickety clack, clickety clack...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4683600811564732321-217753491103976058?l=shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/feeds/217753491103976058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4683600811564732321&amp;postID=217753491103976058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/217753491103976058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/217753491103976058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/2008/09/clickety-clack.html' title='clickety clack'/><author><name>kuronoraito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15276414883444778422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9g6Q5NaCwXA/SMW-bx123DI/AAAAAAAAAE0/KDzQzrAB83Y/S220/coffee+by+beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4683600811564732321.post-905592444021791964</id><published>2008-09-14T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T08:58:51.201-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream rant'/><title type='text'>too disjointed</title><content type='html'>cant seem to make any new stories from my dreams right now, too disjointed, some are too airsoft skirmish related, damn I'm having some airsoft withdrawal symptoms hehehe...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4683600811564732321-905592444021791964?l=shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/feeds/905592444021791964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4683600811564732321&amp;postID=905592444021791964' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/905592444021791964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/905592444021791964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/2008/09/too-disjointed.html' title='too disjointed'/><author><name>kuronoraito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15276414883444778422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9g6Q5NaCwXA/SMW-bx123DI/AAAAAAAAAE0/KDzQzrAB83Y/S220/coffee+by+beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4683600811564732321.post-3705549460791823978</id><published>2008-09-10T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T14:50:27.080-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grey dream'/><title type='text'>Ch.3; Paragraph 4</title><content type='html'>Light finally broke through the dust, soft light shining, showing all the carnage that happened in the past few hours. To his right, dozens of blackhawks that is used for medivacs are still smoldering, no longer able to take flight. To his left, the once white and gleaming hospital building, now a charred black ruin. he can see people limping around, people running and people strewn all over the field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was supposed to be a safe zone, a Green Area, but alas, it was not meant to be, as he assess his surrounding. He called out to his No.2, "Come on, we've got to a call to go to the Rear". No.2 called out to the other men of Chalk 4 and they followed him, they went to the rear by hitching a 4 tonne that was delivering the wounded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they rode in silence, he slowly runs his fingers on his 416...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's it I guess, a stab at writing a military style story. Not quite there yet, but I think it's not too shabby... I think I was watching too much of The Unit... got caught up with it, and Yay, 4th season is gonna start soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4683600811564732321-3705549460791823978?l=shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/feeds/3705549460791823978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4683600811564732321&amp;postID=3705549460791823978' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/3705549460791823978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/3705549460791823978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/2008/09/ch3-paragraph-4.html' title='Ch.3; Paragraph 4'/><author><name>kuronoraito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15276414883444778422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9g6Q5NaCwXA/SMW-bx123DI/AAAAAAAAAE0/KDzQzrAB83Y/S220/coffee+by+beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4683600811564732321.post-1977917589079096680</id><published>2008-09-08T16:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T17:24:48.464-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twilight dream'/><title type='text'>Carving his heart</title><content type='html'>He was feeling bad, in fact he was feeling wretched, all this ugly feeling is boiling in his heart, as he wandered aimlessly through the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it so happens the sky started to pour down, he looks up, what started as a drizzle soon turned into a torrential rain, "Just great" he thinks as he took shelter underneath a canopy. he looked up into the sky cursing his bad day, as he looked at the dreary sky, the corner of his eye caught something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a hideous thing, sitting on top of a building. A face so long and despondent, fangs coming at the corner of its mouth, hunched up looking as it is ready to take on any unsuspecting innocent. But no, contrary to its appearance, the hideous looking beast was a protector of some sort the man remembered, it was something he read, maybe it was on the net or was it in a book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are not meant to frighten you, in fact just the opposite, they are your guardians, beings who have taken up the grotesque look to scare away any bad beings, intruders of your realm. They are the guardians of your domain. They are the Gargoyles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rain has stopped,  still with that curious thought he went to an art shop and bought some carving tools. As he got home he laid out the carving tools on the table. Turned on the light and sat down. he then proceeded to cut open his chest, took out his heart and laid it bare on the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glistening with blood, the heart was beating steadily, and with calm hands the man started to carve the shape of the hideous being onto his heart. Little by little he took away the muscles, shaping it carefully in to the form of a gargoyle. After he was finished he put his heart back in and started to feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It felt good he thinks, no darkness, no jealousy, none of the bad feelings he was feeling earlier in the day. In fact he didn't feel anything at all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humm this is one of those twilight dreams, it's early in the morning and I cant sleep, i did read something about the gargoyles, I think thats why I wrote this piece...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4683600811564732321-1977917589079096680?l=shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/feeds/1977917589079096680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4683600811564732321&amp;postID=1977917589079096680' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/1977917589079096680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/1977917589079096680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/2008/09/carving-his-heart.html' title='Carving his heart'/><author><name>kuronoraito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15276414883444778422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9g6Q5NaCwXA/SMW-bx123DI/AAAAAAAAAE0/KDzQzrAB83Y/S220/coffee+by+beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4683600811564732321.post-7188259417441314478</id><published>2008-09-08T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T16:32:35.938-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='light grey dream'/><title type='text'>it waits</title><content type='html'>It sits on its perch gathering dust&lt;br /&gt;sitting&lt;br /&gt;waiting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's master is in a far away land&lt;br /&gt;so it waits&lt;br /&gt;and waits some more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there will come a day when the master returns&lt;br /&gt;ready to take arms again&lt;br /&gt;it will be ready to do his masters bidding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to wreak mighty havoc&lt;br /&gt;to surge through the gate of justice&lt;br /&gt;to claim its rightful place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the hall of the heroes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this was a quick one, inspired by a conversation with my friend about my kit that's gathering dust at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one is dedicated to all my geardo friends, may we take up arms and pose in the wannabe hall of shame in the near future!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9g6Q5NaCwXA/SMWXKT2lRHI/AAAAAAAAAEs/sqj_wA3TJ2g/s1600-h/3+stooges.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9g6Q5NaCwXA/SMWXKT2lRHI/AAAAAAAAAEs/sqj_wA3TJ2g/s320/3+stooges.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243763544526505074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4683600811564732321-7188259417441314478?l=shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7188259417441314478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4683600811564732321&amp;postID=7188259417441314478' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/7188259417441314478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/7188259417441314478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/2008/09/it-waits.html' title='it waits'/><author><name>kuronoraito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15276414883444778422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9g6Q5NaCwXA/SMW-bx123DI/AAAAAAAAAE0/KDzQzrAB83Y/S220/coffee+by+beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9g6Q5NaCwXA/SMWXKT2lRHI/AAAAAAAAAEs/sqj_wA3TJ2g/s72-c/3+stooges.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4683600811564732321.post-7195702762922262478</id><published>2008-09-08T10:42:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T11:25:40.611-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='absurd dream'/><title type='text'>parallel</title><content type='html'>he wakes up with a start&lt;br /&gt;heart racing&lt;br /&gt;body covered in a damp sweat&lt;br /&gt;what? where am I?&lt;br /&gt;realizes he's in his own room&lt;br /&gt;settles down&lt;br /&gt;drifts back to sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;random images&lt;br /&gt;him running&lt;br /&gt;him in the sun&lt;br /&gt;him in different situations&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;always the same&lt;br /&gt;wakes up&lt;br /&gt;body aching&lt;br /&gt;mysterious bruises appear on his body&lt;br /&gt;unexplained cuts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but always&lt;br /&gt;in his own room&lt;br /&gt;who is he?&lt;br /&gt;theres is many to choose from&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;each one is different&lt;br /&gt;but each one has his face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well if you guessed, it's about parallel worlds, with the world crossing into each other in the dream realm, I think there's more than one version of each of us out there, each created when we did or did not do something, each action creating a divergent parallel world... who knows? one can dream right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4683600811564732321-7195702762922262478?l=shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7195702762922262478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4683600811564732321&amp;postID=7195702762922262478' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/7195702762922262478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/7195702762922262478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/2008/09/parallel.html' title='parallel'/><author><name>kuronoraito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15276414883444778422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9g6Q5NaCwXA/SMW-bx123DI/AAAAAAAAAE0/KDzQzrAB83Y/S220/coffee+by+beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4683600811564732321.post-1737980069587728149</id><published>2008-09-08T07:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T11:05:56.158-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dark dream'/><title type='text'>The price...</title><content type='html'>*This one contains some sex scenes, blood and gore description* ; for a change I wrote this in the style of a movie treatment, you know like a storyboard , except written down of course :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INT, HOUSE&lt;br /&gt;BEDROOM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TWO PERSON, Bodies writhing on the grand bed&lt;br /&gt;She was on top, he was on the bottom&lt;br /&gt;Sweat glistened on her silky smooth skin&lt;br /&gt;hair tousled from rough handling&lt;br /&gt;grunting, thrusting, moaning the couple was oblivious to everything else&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO EXTERIOR&lt;br /&gt;RAINING OUTSIDE THE DRIVEWAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A TALL MAN , hooded in a black parka&lt;br /&gt;making his way into the back&lt;br /&gt;carefully and silently wrenched the back door open&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOLLOW MAN&lt;br /&gt;INSIDE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man creeps silently on his way to bedroom&lt;br /&gt;guided by the sounds of the passionate love making&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO BEDROOM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;man still thrusting frantically, women kisses man&lt;br /&gt;suddenly they were startled by the sound of thunder&lt;br /&gt;the man looks to the window, the corner of his eyes catching something&lt;br /&gt;sees the man with the hooded parka, shouts out something&lt;br /&gt;women startled, looks at man in parka, eyes widened with recognition and starts to tremble&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tall man raises his hand, a P226 is shown equipped with silencer, he shoots&lt;br /&gt;BANG BANG twice onto man on bed&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly he didn't shoot to kill instead he shoots the mans kneecap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;man in bed is writhing in agony, his legs a pool of blood&lt;br /&gt;woman is frantic and screaming, tall man yells at her to shut up and stay in the corner.&lt;br /&gt;Tall man ties up woman, and gags her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FADE OUT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FADE IN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dark blood congealed on bed&lt;br /&gt;Tall man is setting up a video camera, pointed to bed&lt;br /&gt;man in bed is propped up into front of camera&lt;br /&gt;Tall man stands behind camera&lt;br /&gt;tall man asks in a calm stoic almost clinical manner&lt;br /&gt;"Answer with a yes or no"&lt;br /&gt;"Were you or were you not fucking my wife"&lt;br /&gt;man on bed whimpering "oh god oh god oh god"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tall man repeats question, man on bed still whimpering&lt;br /&gt;tall man shoots again at man in beds FOOT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;man in Bed screams "YES, I WAS FUCKING YOUR WIFE!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PAN ONTO TALL MAN'S FACE&lt;br /&gt;A satisfactory smile is shown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CUT TO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tall man as he then takes the woman and also put her in front of camera, ungagged her&lt;br /&gt;asks her with again a clinical voice&lt;br /&gt;"Were you or were you not fucking your boss?"&lt;br /&gt;She whimpers, an almost inaudible "Yes"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DISSOLVE INTO VIEW OF VIDEO CAM VIEWFINDER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tall man speaking to viewer&lt;br /&gt;"Well there you have it a confession from both parties"&lt;br /&gt;with that he then shoots the man in bed&lt;br /&gt;BANG between the eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman, shouts, cries uncontrolably now&lt;br /&gt;Tall man is now hugging her, whispers to her&lt;br /&gt;"now now, I wouldnt put a hole in your head, I love you too much for that"&lt;br /&gt;"I wouldnt want to make a mess out of you"&lt;br /&gt;Instead I'll make you drink this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He takes out a bottle of what it seems to be liquid poison&lt;br /&gt;Woman Shouts some more, tries to squirm away.&lt;br /&gt;tall man holds her down and forces the content down her throat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She chokes, her eyes starts flutters, we see the white of her eyes&lt;br /&gt;bubbles starting to foam in her mouth&lt;br /&gt;Tall man hugs her gently, smoothing her hair, as if holding a baby&lt;br /&gt;he holds tight her as her life force withers away&lt;br /&gt;finally as she dies he closes her eyes, wipes her mouth, then kisses her gently&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PAN TO TALL MAN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tall man takes a mobile phone out, dial's 911,&lt;br /&gt;he reports gunshots in the address of the house.&lt;br /&gt;Then proceeds to shoot himself in the head&lt;br /&gt;Tall man dead while holding woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ZOOM OUT TO CAMERA VIEW FINDER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sirens are heard outside the house&lt;br /&gt;the police have arrived&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FADE OUT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This was something I dreamt a while back, maybe all the blood and gore is because I was reading WANTED the graphic novel, which was VERY GRAPHIC before I went to sleep...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This dream disturbed me when I woke up... but it sounds like some thing that could come from a thriller movie, couldn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4683600811564732321-1737980069587728149?l=shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/feeds/1737980069587728149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4683600811564732321&amp;postID=1737980069587728149' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/1737980069587728149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/1737980069587728149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/2008/09/price.html' title='The price...'/><author><name>kuronoraito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15276414883444778422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9g6Q5NaCwXA/SMW-bx123DI/AAAAAAAAAE0/KDzQzrAB83Y/S220/coffee+by+beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4683600811564732321.post-7884012392721342993</id><published>2008-09-08T07:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T07:56:14.983-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='absurd dream'/><title type='text'>Mr. Bunny’s fairy dust, the cake and the Super hero</title><content type='html'>The boy was your average teen, so it was on that Sunday that he was obliged to take his little sister out. It was her seventh birthday; she asked to go see the performance of “Mr. Bunny” on the far side of the moon. And like everyone else they went there by the rocket tube. It was an interesting piece of engineering, a crystal clear piece of tube stretching all the way to the moon. Inside the tube you have to go into a cylindrical compartment, think of it as a high-tech lift. It was packed as it was a Sunday, so they had to fit in like sardines in a tin can. It didn’t take long to get to the moon, with all the advanced technology powering the lift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they got to the venue, there was only a few people about, the opening act was a bunny band, rocking to some adlibbed sixties rock and roll. The boy find this boring and soon dozed off. When he woke up the show was already well under way, Mr. Bunny was on stage, he was a large, your average brown haired bunny wearing a silky red cape. He did some magic tricks, some classic tricks which the boy gathered was using smoke and mirrors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Near the end of the show Mr. Bunny asked the audience if they were ready for the Grand Finale, where the children in the audience enthusiastically cheered back in response. He then reached inside his cape and pulled out something that glowed brightly in the dimmed auditorium. “This boys and girls” he said “is a fairy…” The fairy then flew around the auditorium sprinkling golden glittering dust upon everybody that was sitting there. The children laughed and giggled as the dust tickled their nose. Then one by one they started to float from their seats. As parents and guardians panicked trying to hold down the children that are starting to float away Mr. Bunny exclaimed “That boys and girls, is real magic!” as he disappeared, melting into the blackness of the stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The children kept on floating and giggling happily for the next minute or two, with frantic parents trying to rein them in until the effect went away. All the while the boy was thinking why the hell I didn’t get to fly or why no adults are affected by the fairy dust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they walked outside they happened onto a booth selling Mr. Bunny’s fairy cake. They were white creamy éclair like with sprinklings of golden sugar. Naturally the little sister wanted some so big brother bought a couple of boxes to take home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day the boy went to his part time job at the local convenience store, he bought a box of the cakes to share with his co-workers. As it happens the owner of the store was in and sampled a cake. He was a small man, pretty average looking, except for those huge spectacles that’s perched on his tiny nose. Mr. Fairborne Edward was his name, while behind his back everyone calls him Mr. Fair-E, or fairy for short. So it was a coincidence, or is it irony that the moment his tongue tasted the fairy cake he exclaimed “This is the real fairy cake!” and rushed out of the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it happens Mr. Fairborne, Fairy we’ll call him from now on, also owns a cake factory, with the taste of the cake still in his mouth he went into his workshop, gathered his entire chef’s and cooks and ordered them to recreate that magical taste. For the next year they would toil away trying to make their own magical taste. And as it turns out all their hard work was worth it, they created a taste that surpassed Mr. Bunny’s fairy cake. The cake shop raked in the success, Mr. Fairy now a multi millionaire is swimming in cash, the cake was exported all over the world, they even opened up a new shop in Mars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as with all good thing, there is always more demand than supply, and when they finally caught up with the demand, the popularity of the cake was going down, you see, because the factory was being mass producing trying to catch up with demand, the quality control dropped in favor of speed of production, so as it is the cake was loosing its magic touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Fairy was no fool, he then concentrated all his resources into the development of new magical cakes, and all of his money was poured into his cakes. Which in this point of the story brings us into the life of his daughter, being born into riches, this daughter of his was a very royal girl, giving away things here and there, she wasn’t a bad girl, she was just a big spender, and one of the things she loves to spend it on was on her boyfriend. Alas for her this boy of her doesn’t have the purity of heart to match his charming good looks. In fact he was using his good looks to pry more money out of Mr. Fairy’s daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the news of how Mr. Fairy is spending all his money into cakes and none for his daughter, this mean hearted boyfriend hatched a fiendish scheme to get rid of Mr. Fairy and to marry the girl when she inherited his estates.  So it goes the evil man plots schemes by night, and by day gives glowing smile to the girl, scheming into the night, taking into account of all Mr. Fairy’s activities. Until he finally concocted the ultimate evil plan to dispose of Mr. Fairy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward on to D-day, Mr. Fairy was being driven home through his usual route, which would take him to the bridge that would connect the mainland to Mr. Fairy’s private land. There the evil boy friend have planted lots and lots of C4, to blow up the bridge and send Mr. Fairy into his doom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he waited for the car to reach the middle of the bridge, his fingers itching on the trigger, breath haggard with anticipation and of wealth filling his mind, the car finally made it past the centre mark of the bridge when he pushed the trigger. The explosions started at the base of the bridge, making its way up in a fiery ball of heat, ravishing the steel and concrete, sundering all joints to oblivion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The part of the bridge where the car was, miraculously still hangs, albeit teetering on a fine line between survival and certain doom. Inside Mr. Fairy and his driver was shouting, frantic upon their certainty of doom, crying helplessly for any help that would come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly in a blaze of color the car was lifted up from its perch of death, and set upon on safe land by a mysterious super hero. If you would describe him he was a “Golden Age” Era type, with muscular build, his cape was a like a magnificent flag in the wind, a certain radiance of charisma, and a reassuring smile that would lift the spirit of all victims he just saved.  The Super hero then found the evil man and bought him to justice…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;The moral of this story? How the hell should I know? It’s a weird dream I had in an afternoon nap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4683600811564732321-7884012392721342993?l=shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/feeds/7884012392721342993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4683600811564732321&amp;postID=7884012392721342993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/7884012392721342993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4683600811564732321/posts/default/7884012392721342993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shadesofgreystories.blogspot.com/2008/09/mr-bunnys-fairy-dust-cake-and-super.html' title='Mr. Bunny’s fairy dust, the cake and the Super hero'/><author><name>kuronoraito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15276414883444778422</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9g6Q5NaCwXA/SMW-bx123DI/AAAAAAAAAE0/KDzQzrAB83Y/S220/coffee+by+beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
