Friday, November 23, 2012
Friday, November 2, 2012
Friday, October 19, 2012
Thursday, October 11, 2012
To wake up...
I was completely paralyzed. I couldn’t move a finger or open my eyes. There was nothing but darkness and complete silence. I have no sense of time. I’m not sure how long I have been here, or how I even got here. My thoughts are vague and confused; I can’t remember who I am, or anything about my life whatsoever. No matter how hard I try, it’s like it's almost there, on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t put together the details. I know some things, but they are just vague impressions. I can only assume that something bad happened to me, but what exactly? I have no clue. I get the impression that I’m laying down…somewhere…perhaps... in a hospital bed.
Sometimes I can hear distant sounds. Things going on around me… possibly the hospital staff? I remember hearing a repetitive sound like a thumping. "THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!" Was somebody knocking on a door? I feel so exhausted. I keep finding myself slipping away into a deep sleep, a dark silent abyss; where there are no dreams, no thoughts, no self awareness. There is no sensation, no emotion, and no memory of the past and no sense of the present. There is nothing. Life, but without living…sleep without dreams. Many have never woken up…but this was my lucky day.
As I began to emerge from my vegatative state, the first sensation I experienced was a sound that began as a humming in my ears. It started very quiet like the sound of a fly, and continued to get louder and more intense. Soon it was like a million flies. The sound drowning me in pulsating waves of insanity. This continued seemingly for hours, making me want to scream, but I couldnt, my body was incapable of it. However, I can detect some movement — a slight twitch in the small finger of my right hand. The paralysis loosened its grip on me…a little. The effect this had on my morale was gratifying. I was aware that I had moved, and also aware of that damn humming. These were the two points of my universe as I awoke. Between these points came brief moments of memory, blurry images would flash through my mind — a girl sitting on a couch, smiling, a young boy. They remained nameless, but I knew there was something significant about them. It was just a feeling.
There were still periods when I entered that dead-like sleep, but each time I woke my condition improved slightly. I felt a bit more aware… the fogginess inside my mind not quite as thick, and the sleep, not quite as deep. Now when I awoke, I found that I could wiggle the toes on my left foot just a tiny bit. I started to exercise my foot. It was difficult, it was extremely painful, but eventually I could move it an inch or so to either side. I kept thinking that maybe a nurse or doctor would see me move, and realize that I was waking up.
My memory came back to me in a film reel of images that were slowly becoming more and more familiar. My mind was constantly working to put all those mental images into some type of context. Trying to make sense of everything, I wondered what had happened to me that left me laying here barely able to move, talk, or even open my eyes. Was I in an accident? Was I sick? I had no answers. But for the first time, I could dream. In my dreams, I saw birthday parties; I spoke to people, and could hear the laughter of a child. I saw myself making love with that woman at the table. Her name is…Raquel! Yes, Raquel. I remember now. She is my wife, and the child must be…Anthony! Yes! That’s who they are… Raquel and Anthony, my wife and son! I felt tears run down my cheeks.
As I became more conscious, I started to get afraid…no not afraid…terrified. My heart was racing my breath short and painful, total panic at not being able to see or move. Oh God, oh god! Someone please help me! I want to scream! I want to jump out of my skin! Oh, Dear God in Heaven… please help me!
The day I fully awoke was not a calm, gradual return to consciousness. It was very sudden and dramatic, caused by violent muscle spasms that shook and contorted my entire body. My back arched while my arms and legs flailed wildly meeting a resistance that constricted my limbs from moving fully. I felt like I was strapped down. The seizure lasted a minute or two, and it was extremely exhausting, I fell quickly into a deep sleep. But It was a good sleep. I dreamt of my beautiful Raquel and Anthony. We were in our nice little house, having dinner, talking, laughing, and playing with the dog. I saw myself sitting in front of an aquarium in our living room with my son and the colors of the fish and corals were so vivid. I longed to be there again.
When I woke again, my entire body ached with spasms; my muscles so tight and sore that I could barely move. I could wiggle everything an inch or two until the pain forced me to stop. However, I still could not see, even though I could feel myself blink. My eyes were wide-open, but I could not see! I was blind. Perhaps this world of total darkness would pass too…right? I tried to talk, but I could only mumble gargled versions of words. But, at least I made a sound; surely that’s an improvement… of sorts. I had to move, to talk, to let anyone know I was aware!
In spite of the pain in my muscles that thwarted my every attempt to move; I could eventually flex enough to move my fingers, feet, and head. Not much at first, but the more I tried, the easier it was to move. Suddenly, with enormous effort, my arm swung straight out and struck against something solid… the side of a hospital bed?
I felt around carefully examined the surface that my hand struck. I felt a soft material, like a blanket that was attached to something hard and flat. I slowly and painfully raised my arm… Thump! I reached above me and felt more of the soft material with the solid structure underneath. I moved my legs, they also hit something solid. What? I was breathing faster now… something was wrong… way wrong. Finally, I raised my knees up, they quickly hit solid. No! No! I jerked as if somebody had stuck a knife into my gut. I now realized where I was....a coffin.
I screamed very clearly, loudly and distinctly these words over and over again. “Coffin… Coffin!”
I thought i was coming out of a coma and the thought of being paralyzed and blind had me feeling hopeless. I thought i had already experienced the pinnacle of horrors to come but I was wrong; there were further levels of horror yet to be experienced. This was it; I graduated to a new level of terror beyond anything imaginable. I have about six inches of space above me, and with my arms at my sides, maybe four inches of open space before my hands and arms strike the sides of my tomb.
I've always been claustrophobic, and this was the grand prize of all my nightmares! Realizing I was trapped in such a confined space, brought on huge waves of panic. My body flailing in the coffin, as if I were being burnt alive. I couldn’t stop moving. The horror was so physical that my body reacted in some primitive instinctive way that was beyond my control. It became harder and harder to breath and my body continued to spasm within that tight space. I felt like I was running out of air. I knew that I had to calm down, or I would suffocate in that box. I completely stopped moving. It became silent, and I never felt more lonely in my life.
I knew that if I had been buried by my parents, I would be underground and I would never be able to escape. I would die, and no one would ever know what happened. But, if Raquel had followed my personal wishes, I would have been put to rest above ground in a crypt or mausoleum. If this was the case, I had a chance. My wife and I didn’t have a formal agreement as to what to we would do in case one of us passed away. But, we talked casually about it a few times, and I always made it clear that I did not want to be embalmed because its unnatural to the earth. I also told her that I preferred to be cremated or an above-ground burial. If I am entombed above ground now, I would have access to air as crypts always have a few small vents built into them that allows seeping rain water to escape. Also, if anybody was around they could hear me if I yelled. Hell, I might even be able to break out on my own.
My course of action was clear; there would be only one way to know. I had to get that coffin lid off; at the very least, I needed to crack the seal on the lid. If I could do that, I would find either total darkness…or perhaps, just perhaps; I would see light or feel fresh, cool air.
I prayed… Dear Lord… for that light and air.
I gripped some of the soft blanket material around my hands, and ripped it away. I took my fingers and carefully felt the underlying surface. I was in luck; it was a wood, rather than a metal casket. I might be able to break a wooden casket.
After resting, I geared up for another assault on the casket lid. I felt good…kind of. I looked at it this way; I just came out of what could only have been a coma. I was convinced that I wasn’t blind; and it was just the complete darkness inside the coffin that prevented me from seeing. Finally, I had my wits about me, and my memories back. I was whole again. I can do this. My wife had not allowed me to be embalmed, and there was no reason that she would not have followed through on my other request – an above ground burial.
I was able to raise my legs up enough and plant my feet more firmly on the lid. I pushed with all the strength my legs could muster. I could here something crack. It wasn’t much, but I could feel the lid actually give a little. I lowered my legs to rest again. Then I felt it, the slightest bit of fresh air entering my space. YES! I anxiously felt around the lid of the casket and started feeling the rubber seal around the lid which makes the casket airtight. Nothing…YES! There it was. I hadn’t broken the lid, but I did loosen it, and the seal was no longer tight.
I started to dig and pull at the rubber seal with all the strength I could summon. Then it happened. The seal pulled free from the casket lid creating about a one-inch gap. Then I saw light! Yes, I saw light…Thank you God! It wasn’t much, but the darkness of the grave made my eyes ultra sensitive to light. At first it was like staring into the sun. But by God! I can see light through the gap! I became ecstatic.
I was energized, hopeful and felt blessed. Oh, how I crave to hold my wife and son. With a roar I pushed with every bit of strength I had. CRACK! SPLINTER! SNAP! I heard the sounds of wood splintering, breaking and all around me. The lid was broke!
Most of the splintered wood had fallen outside of the casket; some had fallen back on top of me. No matter. The lid or at least part of it was gone. I layed there for just a moment, a soft glow of light surrounded me. Something felt wrong. Why was I surrounded by light? Wouldn’t there be mostly darkness with only a bright spot where the crypts’ air vent met the outside? Why would there be an even glow of soft, diffused light with no central point of entry?
I raised myself up. The top of the crypt kept me from sitting completely up-right. There was something I needed to remember… something I knew…something I had read a long time ago. I anxiously looked around my enclosure hunting for the source of the light. I couldn’t find it; no source of light was visible to me. It looked as if the crypt itself was glowing around me. Still…there was something I should remember, something that I should know. Finally, it came to me. I remembered, and I KNEW!
I lay myself back down, and tightly clasped my hands together like a proper corpse. I remembered now, it was all coming back to me. Granite has embedded within it small particles of radioactive uranium. In fact, granite is tested for the amount of radiation it contains before it can be sold for commercial use. Granite can glow. It GLOWS! I was not in a crypt. I was in a granite vault six feet under ground!
Granite Glows, Oh God, Granite Glows!
I closed my eyes shielding myself from that awful, dreadful light, and screamed again, and again, and again, at the top of my lungs, until i couldnt scream anymore. I was so overwhelmingly tired now, and all I really wanted was to go back into that great deep sleep. All I wanted was to dream of my beautiful Raquel and Anthony, and while uncontrollably gasping, choking, screaming, spitting and cursing as my air ran out…I finally did.
Meanwhile...
The caretaker of the cemetery removed the last of the wilting flowers from my grave. He threw them into a small wagon attached to his riding mower. Just as he sat back on his mower, he heard something.
“What the hell…” he muttered — straining to listen. There were no more sounds.
The caretaker got on his mower, and started the engine. It sputtered into life. Shifting into gear, he drove away… never hearing that final horrifying scream from below.
It was a beautiful day, the caretaker thought, Can’t wait to get home to the wife and kids.
Sometimes I can hear distant sounds. Things going on around me… possibly the hospital staff? I remember hearing a repetitive sound like a thumping. "THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!" Was somebody knocking on a door? I feel so exhausted. I keep finding myself slipping away into a deep sleep, a dark silent abyss; where there are no dreams, no thoughts, no self awareness. There is no sensation, no emotion, and no memory of the past and no sense of the present. There is nothing. Life, but without living…sleep without dreams. Many have never woken up…but this was my lucky day.
As I began to emerge from my vegatative state, the first sensation I experienced was a sound that began as a humming in my ears. It started very quiet like the sound of a fly, and continued to get louder and more intense. Soon it was like a million flies. The sound drowning me in pulsating waves of insanity. This continued seemingly for hours, making me want to scream, but I couldnt, my body was incapable of it. However, I can detect some movement — a slight twitch in the small finger of my right hand. The paralysis loosened its grip on me…a little. The effect this had on my morale was gratifying. I was aware that I had moved, and also aware of that damn humming. These were the two points of my universe as I awoke. Between these points came brief moments of memory, blurry images would flash through my mind — a girl sitting on a couch, smiling, a young boy. They remained nameless, but I knew there was something significant about them. It was just a feeling.
There were still periods when I entered that dead-like sleep, but each time I woke my condition improved slightly. I felt a bit more aware… the fogginess inside my mind not quite as thick, and the sleep, not quite as deep. Now when I awoke, I found that I could wiggle the toes on my left foot just a tiny bit. I started to exercise my foot. It was difficult, it was extremely painful, but eventually I could move it an inch or so to either side. I kept thinking that maybe a nurse or doctor would see me move, and realize that I was waking up.
My memory came back to me in a film reel of images that were slowly becoming more and more familiar. My mind was constantly working to put all those mental images into some type of context. Trying to make sense of everything, I wondered what had happened to me that left me laying here barely able to move, talk, or even open my eyes. Was I in an accident? Was I sick? I had no answers. But for the first time, I could dream. In my dreams, I saw birthday parties; I spoke to people, and could hear the laughter of a child. I saw myself making love with that woman at the table. Her name is…Raquel! Yes, Raquel. I remember now. She is my wife, and the child must be…Anthony! Yes! That’s who they are… Raquel and Anthony, my wife and son! I felt tears run down my cheeks.
As I became more conscious, I started to get afraid…no not afraid…terrified. My heart was racing my breath short and painful, total panic at not being able to see or move. Oh God, oh god! Someone please help me! I want to scream! I want to jump out of my skin! Oh, Dear God in Heaven… please help me!
The day I fully awoke was not a calm, gradual return to consciousness. It was very sudden and dramatic, caused by violent muscle spasms that shook and contorted my entire body. My back arched while my arms and legs flailed wildly meeting a resistance that constricted my limbs from moving fully. I felt like I was strapped down. The seizure lasted a minute or two, and it was extremely exhausting, I fell quickly into a deep sleep. But It was a good sleep. I dreamt of my beautiful Raquel and Anthony. We were in our nice little house, having dinner, talking, laughing, and playing with the dog. I saw myself sitting in front of an aquarium in our living room with my son and the colors of the fish and corals were so vivid. I longed to be there again.
When I woke again, my entire body ached with spasms; my muscles so tight and sore that I could barely move. I could wiggle everything an inch or two until the pain forced me to stop. However, I still could not see, even though I could feel myself blink. My eyes were wide-open, but I could not see! I was blind. Perhaps this world of total darkness would pass too…right? I tried to talk, but I could only mumble gargled versions of words. But, at least I made a sound; surely that’s an improvement… of sorts. I had to move, to talk, to let anyone know I was aware!
In spite of the pain in my muscles that thwarted my every attempt to move; I could eventually flex enough to move my fingers, feet, and head. Not much at first, but the more I tried, the easier it was to move. Suddenly, with enormous effort, my arm swung straight out and struck against something solid… the side of a hospital bed?
I felt around carefully examined the surface that my hand struck. I felt a soft material, like a blanket that was attached to something hard and flat. I slowly and painfully raised my arm… Thump! I reached above me and felt more of the soft material with the solid structure underneath. I moved my legs, they also hit something solid. What? I was breathing faster now… something was wrong… way wrong. Finally, I raised my knees up, they quickly hit solid. No! No! I jerked as if somebody had stuck a knife into my gut. I now realized where I was....a coffin.
I screamed very clearly, loudly and distinctly these words over and over again. “Coffin… Coffin!”
I thought i was coming out of a coma and the thought of being paralyzed and blind had me feeling hopeless. I thought i had already experienced the pinnacle of horrors to come but I was wrong; there were further levels of horror yet to be experienced. This was it; I graduated to a new level of terror beyond anything imaginable. I have about six inches of space above me, and with my arms at my sides, maybe four inches of open space before my hands and arms strike the sides of my tomb.
I've always been claustrophobic, and this was the grand prize of all my nightmares! Realizing I was trapped in such a confined space, brought on huge waves of panic. My body flailing in the coffin, as if I were being burnt alive. I couldn’t stop moving. The horror was so physical that my body reacted in some primitive instinctive way that was beyond my control. It became harder and harder to breath and my body continued to spasm within that tight space. I felt like I was running out of air. I knew that I had to calm down, or I would suffocate in that box. I completely stopped moving. It became silent, and I never felt more lonely in my life.
I knew that if I had been buried by my parents, I would be underground and I would never be able to escape. I would die, and no one would ever know what happened. But, if Raquel had followed my personal wishes, I would have been put to rest above ground in a crypt or mausoleum. If this was the case, I had a chance. My wife and I didn’t have a formal agreement as to what to we would do in case one of us passed away. But, we talked casually about it a few times, and I always made it clear that I did not want to be embalmed because its unnatural to the earth. I also told her that I preferred to be cremated or an above-ground burial. If I am entombed above ground now, I would have access to air as crypts always have a few small vents built into them that allows seeping rain water to escape. Also, if anybody was around they could hear me if I yelled. Hell, I might even be able to break out on my own.
My course of action was clear; there would be only one way to know. I had to get that coffin lid off; at the very least, I needed to crack the seal on the lid. If I could do that, I would find either total darkness…or perhaps, just perhaps; I would see light or feel fresh, cool air.
I prayed… Dear Lord… for that light and air.
I gripped some of the soft blanket material around my hands, and ripped it away. I took my fingers and carefully felt the underlying surface. I was in luck; it was a wood, rather than a metal casket. I might be able to break a wooden casket.
After resting, I geared up for another assault on the casket lid. I felt good…kind of. I looked at it this way; I just came out of what could only have been a coma. I was convinced that I wasn’t blind; and it was just the complete darkness inside the coffin that prevented me from seeing. Finally, I had my wits about me, and my memories back. I was whole again. I can do this. My wife had not allowed me to be embalmed, and there was no reason that she would not have followed through on my other request – an above ground burial.
I was able to raise my legs up enough and plant my feet more firmly on the lid. I pushed with all the strength my legs could muster. I could here something crack. It wasn’t much, but I could feel the lid actually give a little. I lowered my legs to rest again. Then I felt it, the slightest bit of fresh air entering my space. YES! I anxiously felt around the lid of the casket and started feeling the rubber seal around the lid which makes the casket airtight. Nothing…YES! There it was. I hadn’t broken the lid, but I did loosen it, and the seal was no longer tight.
I started to dig and pull at the rubber seal with all the strength I could summon. Then it happened. The seal pulled free from the casket lid creating about a one-inch gap. Then I saw light! Yes, I saw light…Thank you God! It wasn’t much, but the darkness of the grave made my eyes ultra sensitive to light. At first it was like staring into the sun. But by God! I can see light through the gap! I became ecstatic.
I was energized, hopeful and felt blessed. Oh, how I crave to hold my wife and son. With a roar I pushed with every bit of strength I had. CRACK! SPLINTER! SNAP! I heard the sounds of wood splintering, breaking and all around me. The lid was broke!
Most of the splintered wood had fallen outside of the casket; some had fallen back on top of me. No matter. The lid or at least part of it was gone. I layed there for just a moment, a soft glow of light surrounded me. Something felt wrong. Why was I surrounded by light? Wouldn’t there be mostly darkness with only a bright spot where the crypts’ air vent met the outside? Why would there be an even glow of soft, diffused light with no central point of entry?
I raised myself up. The top of the crypt kept me from sitting completely up-right. There was something I needed to remember… something I knew…something I had read a long time ago. I anxiously looked around my enclosure hunting for the source of the light. I couldn’t find it; no source of light was visible to me. It looked as if the crypt itself was glowing around me. Still…there was something I should remember, something that I should know. Finally, it came to me. I remembered, and I KNEW!
I lay myself back down, and tightly clasped my hands together like a proper corpse. I remembered now, it was all coming back to me. Granite has embedded within it small particles of radioactive uranium. In fact, granite is tested for the amount of radiation it contains before it can be sold for commercial use. Granite can glow. It GLOWS! I was not in a crypt. I was in a granite vault six feet under ground!
Granite Glows, Oh God, Granite Glows!
I closed my eyes shielding myself from that awful, dreadful light, and screamed again, and again, and again, at the top of my lungs, until i couldnt scream anymore. I was so overwhelmingly tired now, and all I really wanted was to go back into that great deep sleep. All I wanted was to dream of my beautiful Raquel and Anthony, and while uncontrollably gasping, choking, screaming, spitting and cursing as my air ran out…I finally did.
Meanwhile...
The caretaker of the cemetery removed the last of the wilting flowers from my grave. He threw them into a small wagon attached to his riding mower. Just as he sat back on his mower, he heard something.
“What the hell…” he muttered — straining to listen. There were no more sounds.
The caretaker got on his mower, and started the engine. It sputtered into life. Shifting into gear, he drove away… never hearing that final horrifying scream from below.
It was a beautiful day, the caretaker thought, Can’t wait to get home to the wife and kids.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Monday, September 10, 2012
Friday, August 24, 2012
Friday, June 8, 2012
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
James' room...
Don grabbed the TV remote off the couch beside him and mashed the mute button. The news reporter fell silent and continued to mouth the evening’s headlines wordlessly. Don glared at the baby monitor intercom that sat on the end table. He was sure he’d heard the baby whimper. He strained his ears, listening. He could hear the heavy rain against the roof of the house, the wind whistling through the trees. He could hear the deep hum of the heater in the bathroom where Betty was having a shower. A drop of sweat trickled down his face. He could hear the baby softly mumbling to itself. Don gave the newscaster her voice back and turned the volume up a little. He took a swig of the whiskey he held in his hand and it slid down his throat like ice. A chill passed through him.
It was dark in the house. Outside was rainy. The baby began to cry; a troubled whine that had an almost static quality to it as it came from the intercom. Don thought of turning it off, but decided not to. He’d done that once before and Betty had yelled at him. She was so pissed, sobbing and crying and screaming. He left the intercom on, but turned the t.v. volume up a couple extra bars. The baby let out another cry. Don glared at the intercom. There was another cry, then a sob. Don drank some whisky. The baby started to cry. It made Don feel sick. The crying coming from the intercom was shrill and piercing and he turned the volume up even further on the TV. The weatherman was smiling like an idiot now while he told of the blankets of rain that were heading for the area. Don finished his drink. The baby’s cries started to sound more desperate, more anxious.
Don went into the kitchen, and after pouring himself another drink. He stood in the kitchen for a while. Sweat ran from under his arms and down his face, yet he felt cold. He walked back into the living room. James was still crying, screaming almost. Don knew he should go to the baby’s room but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to go into the hallway, up the stairs, open the door with the little ‘James’s Room’ sign. He couldn’t do it.
He sat down with his glass and watched the sports news. He could hardly hear what the reporter was saying. James’s screaming was too loud now. He wailed and screamed, wave after wave of piercing noise coming from the intercom. Sweat ran from Don’s body. Shivers wracked him as he tried to ignore the baby and listen to the football results. James screamed and cried. Don sweated and shivered. He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to turn the intercom off.
Betty walked into the room just before Don had time to stand up. She wore her dressing gown and one of the bathroom towels tied up in a bundle on top of her head. She glared at Don fiercely.
“Can’t you hear that?” snapped Betty, pointing at the intercom. “Are you deaf? He’s screaming for God sake.”
Don just looked at her. Tears welled up in his eyes.
“You could have gone up to him Don. You are his father, you know. It shouldn’t all be up to me.” The baby’s screaming continued.
Tears started to roll down Don’s cheek and he whimpered, “... I can’t.”
Betty gave him another severe glance and then she was out in the hall. Don jumped to his feet.
“Wait!” he gasped as he followed her out of the living room. She stomped up the stairs, and as Don started up them he experienced a strange sensation. James’s screaming came from upstairs and from the intercom on the sideboard in the living room at the same time. It was strange - real-life stereo - and he went dizzy. He tried to catch up with Betty.
At the top of the stairs she walked straight through the door marked ‘James’s Room’ without any hesitation, and he heard her softly cooing. The screams halted slightly, then proceeded, but quieter than before.
Don reached the top of the stairs and stood in the doorway, watching his wife sat in the rocking chair. She was softly saying, “Its OK honey-bunny. Mommy’s here, you don’t have to cry. You’re all right now...”
The icy cold of the room chilled Don straight to the bone and made the hair on his arms stand straight up, but Betty didn’t seem to notice. Don looked at the empty crib and started to sob. Betty continued to talk softly to her empty arms, held as if cradling an infant, her breath fogging up in front of her. The sobbing of the baby that surrounded them, the crying came from everywhere in the room but from nowhere in particular, and it became quieter and sleepier.
Don sobbed into his hands, then slumped down to his knees and cried in despair. As Betty talked to the baby that was no longer there, he remembered little James’ beautiful hands, his tiny feet and beautiful ears. And he remembered the doctor saying that crib death was just one of those horrible but unavoidable things that happened. There was nothing that could be done, and it was so, so sad. Don sobbed into his hands as Betty talked into the empty room and her empty arms. The baby’s cries softened to just a mumble again.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
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