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Kathryn beamed as she took in the view of her bustling living room. Her entire family was here for Thanksgiving. On the walls hung Christmas decorations, together with some construction-paper turkeys made by her kids in their younger days. Despite fading slightly wit age, they were cherished heirlooms, reminding her of their precious childhood. The bay windows revealed the colors of fall, out in full force, resolutely holding the grayness of winter at bay. The TV showed a classic Christmas movie, but the volume was low and no one was watching it.

Her daughter Lisa, her husband Gordon by her side, sat on one end of the couch, cradling their six-month-old daughter. Lilith was smaller than oth

Tom awoke in a daze. All was dark, his ears rang with a dull roar, and every part of his body flared with agony. He felt weight removed from his back, and found himself able to move. A violent coughing fit ended abruptly with overwhelming stabbing pains. He felt himself slowly lifted to his feet.

Someone was in his face. "Tom! How are you feeling? Any injuries?" It was Randall, one of his direct reports, his eyes wide and pleading.

Tom straightened himself out and didn't discover any new torments. "I hurt like hell, but I think I'm intact."

Randall smirked. "Then you're doing better than most. We need to dig others out of the rubble."

Tom gaped at the chaos around him, but glumly accepte

Reginald strolled toward the entrance to the apartment building where he lived. Glancing around idly, he noticed a rough-looking stranger with wild eyes, staring back at him. Their gazes locked for a moment, then Reginald turned away. He chided himself for being so careless. There were all sorts of crazy people living in the city; it was best to avoid eye contact. Hastening his pace, he reached the door to the foyer, quickly stealing another look. Not only was the stranger striding rapidly toward him, but continued to stare, a maniacal grin threatening to split his face in half. Unnerved, Reginald pushed his way through the door. Some people just go around looking for trouble, he grumbled; h

Reginald strolled toward his apartment building. Glancing around idly, he noticed a rough-looking stranger with wild eyes, staring back at him. Their gazes locked momentarily; Reginald turned away. Hastening his pace, he reached the door, quickly stealing another look. Not only was the stranger striding rapidly toward him, but now a maniacal grin threatened to split his face in half. Unnerved, Reginald pushed his way inside.

The foyer was mostly empty. He bolted toward the elevators, pressing the up button. None of the doors opened immediately; Reginald cursed quietly. Hearing footsteps approach, he turned warily. The stranger was there, though looking calmer, and limping slightly. As he ad

A loud ruckus woke Syke up from a sound sleep; she bolted upright in her bed. From outside came the sounds of screams and gunshots.

She slid out of bed, put on her bunny slippers, and padded out of her room and down the stairs. There, she found her parents, cowering in the kitchen. The muffled sounds of outdoor violence continued.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Hush!" Laura hissed. "You don't want them to hear you!"

Skye moved quietly toward her mother; her father stood nearby, looking wild-eyed.

"Who?" Skye asked.

Laura and Tim exchanged uncomfortable glances. "They're called Terminators," Tim explained. "They're terrifying robots, created to kill human beings. And now they're going d

A loud ruckus woke Syke up; she bolted upright.

She slid out of bed, put on her bunny slippers, and padded out of her room and down the stairs, finding her parents cowering in the kitchen. Muffled sounds of screams and gunshots continued.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Hush!" Laura hissed. "You don't want them to hear you!"

Skye moved quietly toward her mother; her father stood nearby, looking wild-eyed.

"Who?" Skye asked.

Laura and Tim exchanged uncomfortable glances. "They're called Terminators," Tim explained. "Terrifying robots, created to kill people. And now they're on our block."

Skye pricked up her ears, hearing a cacophony of metallic whirring and stomping.

"Why are they doi

I know all of you mean well, but I'm getting really tired of being asked about my ascension. I tried to make it clear to you it was a painful subject, but that just seemed to goad you into persisting. I understand that spiritual transcendence sounds like a dream come true, that beholding the face of ultimate reality would give you some sort of inner peace. But it wasn't like that at all. So, although this disturbs me more than you can imagine, I'm finally giving in. I've written this to explain, once and for all, what happened, but after this, no more questions about it, ever, OK? I'm dead serious.

It happened while I was associated with the Free Deist Foundation. Don't take that as an endo