Slowly the mists of the early morning drift over our bunker. We can
hear them off in the distance as the occasional beam of light peers
through the soup of the early sky. I know they will come soon, creeping.
They will come, moving quietly through the grey and getting closer,
armed, with intent. I can hear their voices on the squak box, remote
and almost inhuman.
*BEEP* "Hello? This is Flarby Danslfaby and I was calling for information about the event…"
Their voices fade out and back in like someone from another time struggling to communicate through the ether.
"An about feast…gruble mungle frable If you could give me a call after fibkler o’clock at 740-553-271murble….THANK YOU!"*BEEP*
Caller ID with a phone that can recall numbers; a gift from the gods of telecom.
Soon it will all end. Only 4 days till the horror ends.
http://www.dernehealde.org/snowballEvent.php
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