Awarded 3 out of 5
Shamrocks by Doras
[ prior to redesign ]

Anyone can paint a picture on a page, but to paint an image on the mind is a difficult skill to master. Bear with me while I do, or at least try. Be warned, the picture I paint is not pretty -- time to wake up and see those wrinkles, scars, pimples on your face; the grey hair peeping through your scalp. No one is perfect, yet so many believe themselves to be. Money makes the world go round, but not forward.

    2005. Cultists predict the end of all, and kill people now to speed up their departure. Satanic worship is rising, yet true evil lurks not at a Black Mass but in a business suit; condemning millions to death. "A single death is a tragedy, a million a statistic" -- Stalin. The first world damns the third to poverty, destitution and physical starvation. Fat bellies full of raw steak give the curse of fat bellies due to worms. Bodies are scavenged by animals.

    Nathan Bright lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, his alarm clock chiming in another day of drudgery. Work work work. A new day has begun! May a grin meet the sunshine! Greet everyone with a smile! Work work work. Darren Greene finds himself lying in a field fifty kilometres from where he last remembers being, with a blinding headache and a bruised eye. He turns around and sees Willow Phoenix a few metres away; bruised eyes too. Last thing he remembers was walking her home -- and a flash of white.

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