http://www.theintergalacticnemesis.com/molly Mon, 18 Sep 2006 23:58:49 +0000 http://backend.userland.com/rss092 en He would never admit in mixed company that he came from a bloodline of quick-fainters. His father, Wilson Randolph Sloan, passed out at the sight of blood. His grandfather, Randolph Willard Sloan, IV, had a certain chink in his powerful armor at the sudden smell of horseradish and dill. ... http://www.theintergalacticnemesis.com/molly/2006/09/18/the-medical-reasoning-behind-the-fall-of-william-randolph-sloan/ The silence in the room caused William Randolph Sloan's ears to swell with the echo of his own rapid pulse. The noise sounded like thousands of soldiers marching on sandy beaches to reach the front of the battle. His eyes closed and the darkness quickly gave way to brilliantly colored ... http://www.theintergalacticnemesis.com/molly/2006/09/05/the-fall-of-william-randolph-sloan/ "Now you listen to me, Mr. Sloan. I have been on my feet the moment that phone call came in. I have run myself ragged trying to fulfill your requests. I'm sorry that they don't have any more slippers at the department store. I'm sorry that your cigar tastes like ... http://www.theintergalacticnemesis.com/molly/2006/09/04/margie-the-thread-tugger/ She now held onto this final pair of slippers- the only ones that would be available until December- tightly in her tired arms. “Margie. What are you waiting for? Bring me another pair. I feel like the ball of my foot is being shredded away.” She placed the slippers gingerly on the ... http://www.theintergalacticnemesis.com/molly/2006/09/01/slipper-slump-slips-to-new-lows/ Margie knew something was wrong the minute she walked into her office two weeks ago. There was a strange brightness that morning. Everything gleamed: the sun danced off of passing taxi windows, the puddles from a nighttime shower sparkled in a painful manner, even the white coat of her precious ... http://www.theintergalacticnemesis.com/molly/2006/08/30/a-slag-in-slipper-shipments/ “Dammit, Margie. Where could she be?” William Randolf Sloan stared at the exposed wood that had recently become a familiar stain to his usually dark-oiled floor. Through his now-worn slippers, he rubbed his third toe against the grain that had served as his pacing path since receiving that mysterious phone call ... http://www.theintergalacticnemesis.com/molly/2006/08/22/where-could-she-be-2/ "That was a damn wedding gift from your damn brother," shrieked Mildred. I looked around at the shards of glittering crystal and recognized the pieces as being from Mildred's flask. A fresh mark was inches above my head-- sap began to leak from the tree's wound. "You drink too much!" Brutus grunted ... http://www.theintergalacticnemesis.com/molly/2006/08/03/mildred-and-brutus-sitting-in-a-tree/ Clipping letters out of newspapers requires patience, a steady hand and nimbleness with scissors. Brutus Dennison was now discovering that a dry touch was also a necessity. “Stupid ‘k’s,” he spit on himself, trying to shake a crumpled ‘W’ that clung to his sweaty palm and collected dirt and small sticks ... http://www.theintergalacticnemesis.com/molly/2006/07/31/its-a-ransom-note-not-a-spelling-bee/ Yes. It is hard to imagine, I’m sure. But as a Pulitzer-prize winning reporter, you learn that sometimes the imagination is nothing compared to reality. You learn to turn off the logical side of your brain and tune into the part that wants to survive the situation so that your ... http://www.theintergalacticnemesis.com/molly/2006/07/30/sidebar-the-art-of-being-tied-up-part-iii/ Hostage situations are the worst as you are completely at the mercy of your captor. The only hope to hold onto is knowing that you serve as a bartering tool. You are the one thing that a desperate soul has to negotiate with; your life is what keeps his life ... http://www.theintergalacticnemesis.com/molly/2006/07/28/sidebar-the-art-of-being-tied-up-part-ii/