Downtown Los Angeles…
In the background the Global News broadcast is reporting breaking news of multiple shooters on not just the top floor of the high rise lofts overlooking downtown but on the lower levels near the parking structure as well. Hundreds of innocent bystanders have already been seriously injured with reports of 45 people down. There are reports of cars crashed off the side or middle divider of the expressway, the drivers slumped over the wheel or abandoning their vehicles seeking cover.
Law enforcement personnel are telling the frenzy of reporters to stand back because of the possibility of a bomb or two in the building and sharpshooters using military-grade assault rifles modified with bump stocks. The firing appears to be coming from various suites.
One wide-eyed female reporter in her early 20s is asking one witness who says, “I saw close to a dozen men dressed as security staff however speaking with heavy accents; perhaps from one of those Arab countries. Those f*cking foreigners need to just get the hell out of our…”
The reporter cuts her off as a hail of more gunfire erupts from one of the upper levels of the skyscraper. One of the regular security guards yells out in the background, “We need backup. They just left down the stairwell towards the back of the building. They’re getting into an unmarked van with tinted windows in the lower deck of the parking garage.”
Just then the van speeds off, sideswiping an unsuspecting Honda and heading towards the 110 soon out of site. Several patrol vehicles show up seconds later but too late to apprehend or even see the suspects.
Claire wipes her tired sleepy eyes trying to comprehend what she is hearing. Her dreams have become so intense lately she is wondering if she’s even awake. “I must be fucking dreaming but it all seems too real,” Claire says to her inner untamed child whom is frantically trying to break free from her cage.
Wishing her late mother was here with her now. Speaking words of wisdom and comfort in her depression, in her darkness.
“Claire I will not always be around to embrace you through the oncoming storms of life. But after I am gone from this life into the next Be assured I will do what I can from heaven above to help guide you through the hail, the torrential floods, and the chaos which will come that you will have no control over. The Global Realignment and the Catastrophic Shift will alter life as we know it but just look within to your inner angel and look to God for the light to illuminate the dark as it will seek to trap you inside your own body. In these challenging times, the last days you will have to trust in your free-thinking mindset and release your soul to God in order to survive the chaos of the new world order,” Lila Rose, her mother, would say to her just seven days before she took her last breath.
“Claire Claire, wake the fuck up bitch!!! You know we have to pack up soon. You want me to spank that cute tight lil’ ass of yours huh? Better yet let me kiss it and give you a wake up call you’ll always love. You know babe we have to be in Vegas by tomorrow night. Remember we have to meet with your friends from Manila. They are super excited about taking us out to that buffet place at the Luxor.” Rebekah is already showering, her freshly cleaned clothes laying on the bed, her dirty clothes leaving a trail all the way to the bathroom door. Claire soon gets up out of bed, slowly removing her pink lace bra and matching panties to join her in the steamy hot mist; the water caressing their bodies as under a tropical waterfall.
Claire has not seen her Filipino girlfriend since the last time they made love at the lagoon in the Visayas region. The storm nearly wiped out all their plans to stay longer with them having to seek shelter in a nearby cave on the shore of the small island until it passed.
“Tell me you’ll never leave me nor forsake me, Rebekah. I just don’t know how I will survive without my dream angel fucking my pain away,” Claire playfully slaps her butt and kisses her deeply and passionately as she presses Rebekah against the warm tiles. Her hand gently finding her sex as she slides two fingers inside her sweetspot, her tongue intertwined with her own. She loves the smell of her lavender scent, her rich spicy aroma, and her creamy intoxicatingly sweet taste; like egg nog and brandy with a hint of minty chocolately decadence.
(The computer is on in the office; the light gently illuminating the walls; two shadowy figures dancing in a romantic interlude, slowly transcending all time and space…)
In the background the internet feed from the Global News Network is broadcasting a piece on the upcoming midterm elections…
The world is changing so rapidly., however not for the better according to the average middle class American worker. The change promised by a historical unprecedented US election with a global self-taught real estate business tycoon just isn’t happening as fast as everyone was hoping for…The New Millenials, most responsible for changing the climate of the debates and the new surge in social media blogging and indie news sources. Some say this generation has forever altered the American political landscape by getting the first ever pro-Cannabis pro-Hemp President elected in our nation’s history…
He was able to penetrate the walls of the disenchanted electorate. Those of us who felt we were being ignored and silenced by the perpetrators of fake manipulated news.