NEVERMORE... One day in  August 1998 in the OC Tanner cafeteria, a co-worker pointed to the window and told me that ...                 LE FastCounter © @Com

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...a large bird had crashed into the window and left its imprint on the glass.  The cafeteria is huge... it's a long area on the second floor of our building.  The windows face east, catching the morning sun.  The image, with the sun shining on it could be seen from far away.  The wingspan is about 16 inches (41 cm).

I'm in the design department of our company -- there is a woman in our building whose job it is to take pictures for our company, amongst other things.  We asked her to photograph the image, and this is the result.

About the imprint.  It looks like the bird was dusty, and the dust on the glass is the imprint we see -- of the impact.  Ouch!  Its so strange to see all the detail -- down to the wing feathers, beak, eye claw and even some of the tail!  The very next day the  window-washers washed the imprint away forever.   We all speculated what happened to the bird, but no one really knows for sure.

Maybe our feathered NEVERMORE friend gave up the ghost; we don't know. We did not see its corpse on the gravel roof below the window.

       Holly Porter --
        31 Aug 1998

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted...

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This is really neat:   ANU Garg's word a day!  It's FREE!

  This assignment was actually turned in by two English students: Rebecca and Gary:

English 44ASMU
Creative Writing
Prof Miller; In-class Assignment for Wednesday

Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple.

Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right.

One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth. Remember to reread what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.

---

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The camomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked camomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So camomile was out of the question.

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel." Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her.

She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth -- when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

Little did she know, but she has less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion which vaporized Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow'em out of the sky!"

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.

Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.

You total $*&.

Stupid %?$!.

 
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