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The gate, you can see, was carved from living stone. The terraces may seem irregular from a distance, but up close the still-sharp edges and corners are unmistakable beneath the trees. Most damage was done when the Tower fell, and now there is soil on every ledge.
Detective Kosner: State your name for the record, please.
RJ-12577: General Robotics Model XIV serial number RJ-12577. Humans call me RJay.
Detective Kosner: Alright if I call you RJay?
Detective Kosner: All right RJay, can you tell us where you were on the afternoon of February 17th at around 7 am?
At last, Djitje was alone, if not necessarily unobserved. He looked without tenderness at his wife, already asleep and snoring lightly. He bore her no ill will, though he had no affection for her either. Theirs was a marriage of convenience that had never been convenient to either of them.
'Reaching towards the dark, mysterious edge of our universe, beyond the planets, stars, and even the galaxies, we humans were attempting to fathom what lay beyond the creation of space and time itself, on the cusp of deciphering the very origins of our existence.'
Was He a genius? He wasn't hard to track. Perhaps He wanted to be found. Perhaps His hapless attempts at cloaking His flight were the strongest evidence for a negative conclusion. Perhaps the answer to the experiment was not a bell curve but a finite, “No!” Religion: one. Science: nil. The Doctor didn't like the score.
I first saw the lights out past Bakers Leap. Don’t look at me like that. A bloke’s gotta get away now and again. Nothing like putting ya foot down and the Acka-Dacka up; blow the old ute’s carbie clean. You find a place to camp. Get back to ya roots. You know, light a fire, hunt some ferals, go running with the dingoes and howl at the moon.
You can shake ya head.
Coming In Issue 207
by DW Walker
Grey Power - Consolidation
by David Scholes
Home - A Place
by Pavelle Wesser
Malaita: In This Context
by Wes Parish
Scavenger Of The Dead Hand
by David Adès
by Shaun A Saunders
Online Since Feb 1998
The Set Menu - by Ed Errington
Pay Parking - by DW Walker
Through The Wood - by Wes Parish
Genocide - by Marg Essex
Vulnerable Invulnerable World - by David Scholes
Pulp Circa 1958 - by Bart Meehan
Aussie Hero - by Chris McGrane
Do Not Be Alarmed - by Harris Tobias
The Good Shepherd - by Shaun A Saunders
FG - by Mark Attwood
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Reality is the part that refuses to go away when I stop believing in it.