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The strange case of the plane in the tree.


Jose put his boots on.

Rowle agitated said. “Be quick, it won’t be there forever.
Hurry up!”

Jose looked at his friend saying loudly. “And you say it’s stuck up a tree?”

Rowle nodded back saying. “Hush!
Your parents will hear you!”

Jose smiled confidently back. “No they wont, they are at the meeting in the town hall.”

Rowle’s face broke into a smile. “Mine to, you ready?”

Jose nodded.

Quickly they left the house, went out down the cobbled alley, and into the early morning mist.

Jose leaned in close to his friend, in a hushed tone said. “You say it landed last night?”

Rowle nodded round. “I heard the Mayor talking to my Poppa, they reckoned it landed this morning!
My Poppa was really angry at hearing this.
After the Mayor left, Poppa left as quick!”

He fell silent.

Out of the gloom, coming straight at them; strode two tall men. Both wore large caps, had sacks tied across their chests as bandanas, and had a dark menacing appearance.

The boys flattened themselves against the grubby whitewashed wall. Daring not to breathe, they waited for them to go by.

As the men walked past, one of them looked down harshly at Jose. The whites of his eyes flashed down at him with contempt.

In that second, Jose knew the true meaning of fear. It was far worse that wanting for a beating from his Poppa.

It went much deeper.

Watching them walk on, Jose saw the barrels of guns sticking out from the bottom of the cotton sashes.

The dark men’s footsteps receded into the gloom of alley.
And in a second, were gone.

The boys breathed out a deep sigh of relief, then moved on. Jose nervously gathering his thoughts asked quietly. “Were, they the Resistance?”

Rowle nodded back. “Yes!
They are going to the meeting as well.”

Jose swallowed hard.

A few seconds later they found themselves at the top of the hill, and just stared in disbelief.

The plane was wedged high into the top of the tree.

Jose broke the silence saying. “I heard the Mayor telling the Monsignor, that it had flown from the war in France.
The Monsignor said that it was over two thousand kilometres away, over the Alps!
But the Mayor just shrugged.”

Rowle shrugged at this saying. “What’s an Alps?”

It was Jose turn to shrug.

Rowle staring intently at the mangled plane said silently. “I heard that the Pilot, after he crashed; climbed down then walked home!
He doesn’t live far from here.
Him and his mama are at the meeting.”

Jose added. “One of the older boys at choir this morning said, it was a miracle that the plane could get here.
The Monsignor slapped him down.
I’ve never seen him so angry; he hollered at him shouting, ‘It’s not a miracle, but the work of the devil,
And the pilot was a deserter.
And his mother, a collaborator; in league with the Nazis.”

Two shots from the village behind them rang out in the early morning, both boys jumped and stared back.

Rowle looked back to the plane saying. “They’ll drag it down and burn it.”

Jose still staring back said. “I heard that the pilot just wanted to come home, but the Monsignor insisted he was deserter, and his mother would be tried at the meeting.” He was quiet for a second, then added. “Seems that the Monsignor was right.
They’ve been found guilty!”

“Dammed: Collaborators!” Said Rowle harshly and spat in contempt.

Turning, both boys went silently to school.

A Jessica note: The above comes in at 595 words. The Google writing rules were that the story must be not more than 600, and that was really hard to do, but I did it.#

  • – Whether it will be attacked or not is irrelevant.
  • – It was an exercise that I enjoyed, and took me away from it all for an hour or so.

Thanks for reading, Jessica: Praise be the ORI.


Outside Intervention Registered.

Forced animal-(hybrid)-machine mode deployed, (open-me subroutine activated).
– Matrix code and biological permissions successfully merged in the prescribed scheduled time-frame, .. predictive actions running at 100%.

Attention STUPID Human!

A sign saying ‘Open Me!‘ – Isn’t a command.
Confidential Monetary Report Follows.
Conclusion Begins:
– The captured consumer has actually *bought* their own personal prison cell key,
(Then happily locked the door behind them).
– And did it when *you* signed up for *your* own beloved credit card,
(But are now paying off your blue dues in prison with a mountain of debt covering the door).

Resolution: the [ Consumption Bots ] have the human-monkey-race trapped.

– Give a google amount of monkeys some typewriters, ..
And one of the gibbering little freaks might well reproduce one of Shakespeare’s minor works in an eternity, (or two).
– Give a google amount of walking animals some credit cards, ..
And one of God’s gibbering human monkeys *might* well resist the urge to use it after a few seconds of shallow contemplation.

[ What’s written above is a pause in your life: don’t waste it, ( spend it wisely ) .. ]


Close this shit

Ain’t that so cute? – An innocent looking form on a web page; asking you to register to go on their exclusive mailing list: never seen that before? – { Huff! }

Anyhow: if you do sign up, then this is ( My Promise! )

(Just a cleverly constructed list of timely compiled acquisitions.)

Thanks for reading, Jessica: Praise be the ORI.