Fourteen years after she was abducted, trying

Fourteen years after she was abducted, trying to decide what was real and what had had been drilled in so far that it had supplanted reality was impossible. They'd started with

the first chapter of Stephen King's latest novel at the time. It took that 14 years just to get through it all as she was held hostage by the thousands and thousands of pages. Then

he changed his name to Richard Bauchman and I lost all respect for him. After that he just cranked out "spooky" crap like a broken Xerox machine. That's why I joined the

Netflix website, so I could keep up to date on all of those direct-to-video movies that Chad Allen likes to puke out. Maybe that's why

I viewed the world in rose-tinted wide angle lenses, Everywhere was long tracking shots over a desert horizon. Cinematoghaphy was the secret to the universe at 30 frames per sec.

Luckily, I don't tend to stay drunk for long, and I was back to my dreary old apartment, where the only company is my cat. "I can't continue to live like this or

you're not going to get the smoked Salmon you're accustomed to Mr. Boddington" I said, scratching Boddie under the chin. I was starving but determined that my 12 cats keep their 9

lives. This would mean feeding them only the finest of cuisine whilst I myself lived off cat food. "Mr Boddington's a special boy isn't he?" I said as I scoffed down another

quart of diet snapple apple and malibu rum. It certainly was a shame how these things work out. I picked up my phone and started to dial.