Therefore be careful how you walk, not as unwise men but as wise, making the most of your time, because the days are evil.
I actually wrote ten other stories, all along one line. Then I realized they were horribly depressing, so I only post these three. Also, if you have any interest in the basis for some of my stories, check out Beyond Therapy, a book produced by the Presidential Council on Bioethics. The stories:
An empty slate, the body lay devoid of thought and history, totally lacking a future. Fully functional, it awaited the final key-turn: memory. Washed clean of its previous life—hideous murder? Traumatized soldier? Hopeless amnesiac?—a new life dawns with the input of memory. Synthesized chemical personality, artificially created future.
Millbrook Restaurant Experience
Buick yachts populate dark parking lot. Foyer: faded featureless wallpaper, handwritten sign adorned. Dark floor to ceiling faux-wood paneling accompanies worn red vinyl booths. Mismatched silverware, paper napkins, green fluted placemat beneath. Half-height room dividers, balustrade atop. Unchanged thirty years. Median customer age: 70. Underage, outgunned, beating a hasty retreat.
Armies of Color
Gleaming rows stood to attention. Soldiers, divided into units, individually primed, anticipating immediate action. They waited. Uniforms identical yet unique, perfectly pressed, wrinkle-free and pristine. Names identify each individual, drawing out speculation. Light glints across multitude of heads, sorted according to color.
A new box of crayons.