Old Man with a Pen: Blog

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May 26, 2014
Posted at 10:28 am
Updated: June 11, 2014 - 3:45 am

A True Account

The Adventures of a Time Travel Watch and its users, written as a fictional Novel by me; an old man with a pen, but taken, with a little salt, from a series of diaries found in an old trunk I purchased at a Self-Storage Business auction. The business had been the eyesore of the city for many years…but someone had been paying the taxes and minimal upkeep on the grounds.

The State Capital City, having spread like a cloud of locust over the central portion of the State had annexed our little town. Developers had torn down and rebuilt the village in the manner of their desires. The Self-Storage building, huge, ancient, once red brick and granite, had deteriorated to simply huge, brooding and in the way.

As such buildings do, it suffered from a 'fire' of 'natural causes' fifteen years before the sale. The taxes continued to be paid. The developers finally won their day in court five years ago and court ordered "Intent to Demolish" papers had been published in major and minor publications in cyberspace for four years.

Last year, a team of attorneys from every branch of the Federation of North America government descended on the town and insisted that the building be emptied of all remaining objects, regardless of condition, and those objects to be sold at Public Auction. This year, February First, 2116, the auction was held in a blinding blizzard. The locals stayed home, I attended for the express purpose of informational observation; My Blog. The Federation Lawyers attended en masse and a huge bidding war ensued. The village, autonomous in government, benefitted enormously.

The auction over, the attorneys loaded their booty in assorted Federation vehicles, and left. I bought the trunk I was sitting on for a dollar, called a friend and we struggled the heavy trunk to my vehicle. He helped me carry it up to my writers attic where we jimmied the lock. I threw back the lid.

"Old books!" he exclaimed with disgust. "Of course…only you." He helped me turn the trunk, spill out the books and left. I was left with nearly one hundred and fifty pounds of old books, still smelling of smoke from the fire fifteen years before.

'Only you,' was cryptic, book cases full, I had nowhere to sit..the chairs were full of books awaiting shelves. The shelves were awaiting the steel beams for floor reinforcement…the steel beams were awaiting sufficient funds. I had a little space on my desk, but it was where I sat at my ancient computer and posted my blog and the novels I conjured out of whole cloth. I picked up the first book, A Diary: Stopwatch.

As I read, I realized that I had purchased the very thing the government was looking for: They will be back.