Bubba slid the beat-up wooden box out from

Bubba slid the beat-up wooden box out from under his twin bed and puffed the dust off the top. It had been a long time since he had seen inside. He unsealed the top and uncovered

a jewel encrusted bra. It was surprisingly hefty in his hands and smelled of mothballs and lavender.

This definitely belongs in an antique story and no where else.

And so it came to be, the hands of time turning back gracefully to 1924. My eyes opened. I lay in a field of daisies and I could hear David calling me from afar "Vivian, my love!

We must leave here, right away!" I turned to face him. "I am sorry David, but I no longer love you. You must understand, I have now fallen in love with

this box of pencils. See? Isn't he cute?" David was just plain exasperated. He said "fine. Stay here with your pencils-" "Chad" "with Chad. I'm leaving." I hugged my true love Chad

as David snatched him away from me, yanking him roughly by the arm. Chad coiled for a brief moment, and then followed David slowly. And then I was alone, in the dark, in spite of

The light being on. Chad and David went to the Lion's Head Pub for an ale while I was just wondering if I was still alive. The silence was deafening. A crowd of sheeple were in

the steeple, for it was the only place these ovine beings could hide from those who would make them into stew and chops. Silently they watched through the slats as the butcher folk

, torches aloft, surrounded the cathedral: "Come out & surrender!" But the clever sheep rang the bell thrice. "Three's for White Walkers!" yelled the mob leader. And off they ran.