Saturday, August 11, 2012

Love and Starbucks for the Grieving

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I have to have my Starbucks. I’m drawn to the little green logo every time I see it somewhere along the roadways and highways. The green logo sign replacing the sight of the McDonald's Golden Arches, that I'd want to stop at when I was a kid. You know the giant yellow “M” you’d see traveling down the road causing your glands to salivate. You’d beg one of the rational parents to stop in hopes for some French fries only to be told , “No, there’s nothing they have that I can’t cook at home.”

The green and white sign is as lucky to find as any four leaf clover you may stumble upon in a pasture out on a leisurely stroll. The mermaids face smiling because she knows she has you. The squiggly lines that make up her hair gets me caught in a trance, speaking to me, convincing me, “Chris, turn your grey minivan in here. Drown your misery and sorrow in my perfectly great tasting white mocha, extra hot with one Splenda or how about a hot Vanilla Chi or maybe a Carmel Macchiato”

How I have to make that turn. “Oh,” my little green mermaid says, “I forgot the light whip.” She had me at “Chris.”

I have invested more money in that little green sign the last few months. More then I care to remind myself by looking at my bank statement. It is the one thing I look forward to when I head out and about with the boys. The one thing my mouth takes comfort in as I take a sip from the white top that is made perfectly for my pursed lips. Because of the hot liquid that is begging to come out, I gently place my tongue in the hole to avoid losing a single drop as I tilt her up allowing gravity to let her flow to me. Once I feel the warmth of the liquid from those grounded coco beans on the tip of my tongue, I remove it from the oval hole that is punched on the top of the lid allowing her warmth to enter me and drown my sorrows away.

I close my eyes  as my body  heats up. Sweat beads on my brow and trickles down my face. I wipe it away using my shirt. She’s not done yet, I have yet to taste her whip cream. It’s the best part. Just the right amount to sweeten my latte and liven my day. It doesn’t get any better then that.

After a few sips, I adjust her brown cardboard sleeve to line up with the rest of the cup, because I want keep her white skin modest. The brown cover slides down like a slip but the strapless cover isn’t too revealing, just enough to tease but enough to see the white cup.

The cup is still too hot to touch, so I only grab her when I’m ready. I bring her to me slow and steady careful not to man handle her as I bring her in so I don’t get burned if she accidentally pours out.

I have enjoyed her a few times, but not enough this time; I only ordered her Tall. And her lightness revels to me that she’s running on empty.  I know deep down I still haven’t received my fill, but she’s still going strong giving me her all, until the very last drop. The thing about Starbucks is that there is plenty of stores around and I am always on the prowl ready to enjoy my next latte that helps me find comfort, because life has me feeling down.

Once I’ve finished the pleasure of her company indicated by her empty cup, I know I’ll reminisce about how tasty she was, because of her constant reminder that will tingle and tease my taste buds to the point that I’ll have no choice but to seek out the little green mermaid  that dots the shopping plazas and strip malls along the landscape in order to experience her once again.

It's in times of my grieving I have to seek out the love in something that can bring me some comfort. And now in my time of grieving I just need the love of my Starbucks because, she pours out her love into me.










Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.


Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com

Above image found here: http://hawaiiccw.com/news/support-starbucks-valentines-day/

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

I Smile, for You

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August 8th, 2012

I don’t know you. And well, you don’t know me. But there is a reason why we were brought together. You may have stumbled upon my Blog or it was recommended to you from someone who thought it may help you in your time of need. To know that you aren’t alone. So more than likely we share one thing in common: loss or maybe some kind of tragedy in your lifetime that was traumatic and not necessarily a loss but you connect with me in some way.

The hardest thing about losing someone is how real your loved one still feels, even in death. It’s like they are here in the flesh,  because their memory is still so strong in our heart and mind. The toughest part about having a traumatic experience is that no one understands the depths of the pain it has caused you and your family. Not even you, can try to explain something that is so personal, because someone else would rather pretend its not a big deal. I was once told in a round about way- besides your loss, why is life so hard for you?

For people who haven’t felt real loss, or for some, who decided to hide their feelings deep down within themselves so they won’t ever have to look at it again, it's hard for them to fathom why so many of us grieve so deeply, and so painfully. Many people who haven’t dealt with loss are happy not to be in our situation, and rightfully so. I’d never want anyone to have to feel this, but someday, unfortunately they will.

The thing is though, the ones that are not affected by the pain or the misery, like some of us, who are grieving a loss of a loved one, should not lose their compassion that they had in the days after they heard the news about the death or major life changing event. But the sad fact is, people will. Their compassion will wane in time, especially if your pain is effecting them, whether its personally or professionally, and they will want you to move on and get over it.

A lot of us would rather hide in our safe cocoon that protects us because no body else that surrounds our daily life is quite sure how to deal with us. The reality is we are handling it the best we can and there is nothing anyone can do to help. But if people want to figure out a way to help in some capacity then the way to accommodate us is to just try and understand.  Understand the person that is weak and vulnerable. By knowing who I am, then you should allow my process to progress and evolve until the conclusion of my pain and misery. Because even I don’t know when that final conclusion will come.

The will to overcome the obstacles that are before me seem insurmountable because I have not had time to think. And when I do think, it is about the time prior to my loss and the outlook of the future. Anything else in-between is blurred. My wife will be gone for five months come this August 15th and I can tell you that if it wasn’t for this blog and my personal notes I couldn’t tell you where the time went. I am trapped between March 15th and August 15th. Because yesterday to me, was March 15th.

These just aren’t my feelings. I have received hundreds and hundreds of emails from readers just like you, that tell me the same thing. “People do not understand the feeling that I deal with so I smile day in and day out because it comforts them."

Even in loss or traumatic experiences, it is the person grieving, supporting the ones that do not know what to say. And at night when we are left alone with our thoughts reliving the good times that seem like yesterday and the day of the loss like it is happening now, our mood never changes. It is still in the same place it was when our lives were changed forever.

I long to stand on my own two feet. To be able to grieve for my loses and have a moments rest or vacation to get away but, I know for now at least, that is not going to happen. So, in the meantime in the middle of my grief I will smile for those that feel better when they think that I am doing just fine because in the end that is what comforts you and hopefully eventually it will comfort me.











Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.


Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Take Over, Your Story Part IV

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August 7th, 2012


R.T. wants to remain anonymous. R.T. used the Design Your Story Submission Form section and told me he wanted a sci-fi story. He let me run with it and I ended up with a series here. So, here is part I, I hope you enjoy R.T. and thanks for your submission. It keeps me busy and I love connecting with my readers and subscribers
 *Warning some content me be disturbing to some and graphic.


"I’ll be standing by the main phone until you call. I think I am the only one left in the world with no cell phone. Talk to you soon. Bye-bye.” Tommy leans down to place the phone back on the cradle.

He leans forward as the hand of the creepy figure reaches over him like a hook. Tommy places the phone receiver down on the base. As he leans back the hand grabs his shoulder and pulls him back violently.

“AHHHH”, Tommy screams.


Part IV


Sheriff Blake searched the internet for Clara, but could not locate her in Kansas.

"Where are you Clara," he says out loud, "if that's even your name."

He sits in the front seat of his car and stares at her name : Clara May Hamilton.

"Maybe its a pseudonym name. Clara, Clara May...Mary, Mary Milton, okay Mary lets try that."

He enters the name Mary Milton of Kansas in his computer search. The search returns some names. Did he finally figure it out? He begins to scroll down the page and sees an obituary of Clara Hamilton - Milton, who passed away. He uses his mouse and clicks on it.

Reading aloud, "Clara Hamilton-Milton of Stafford County passed away on November 19th after a long battle with cancer. She was a graduate of St. John's High School where she met her high school sweetheart...she cared for her four kids Jethro, Tracey, Mary and Henry..."

A smile comes across the face of the sheriff so happy he figured out who she was. He continues his online search where he stumbled upon the Stafford Courier. The reporter retells the story of Mary but this time it was more in-depth and graphic.

Sheriff Blake read aloud the details of the human dissection that took place somewhere, maybe a spaceship. How could something like this be real but it was too detailed to be fake.
As the sheriff reads, back at the police department Ed begins to do he same thing to Deputy Felles.

"They placed a knife in my back and began to cut my flesh," Mary recalled,"The sawing sounded like rough sandpaper being dragged across a surface. Not much sophistication for higher beings. The knife plunged deep into my back, as it followed the ridges of my spine, from my lumbar up to my cervical odontoid process. There wasn’t any blood, just pain, from them cutting into my 31 branches of nerve root..."

Ed makes a small slice into the back of Deputy Felles, closest to the Thoracic spine, or the middle of his back. Ed then takes the same knife and places a slice in his index finger. He then slowly squeezes his finger forcing the red blood cells out until a yellowish red color professes out. The blood flows and runs the length of his finger and down the palm of his hand. He then shoves his finger in the opening of Felles back pushing deep down past the knuckle, slowly turning i,t as it slides in. Ed then squeezes his remaining fingers into a fist, and squeezes the balled up fingers back and forth forcing more blood into the deputy.

Deputy Felles is numb. The only thing moving are his eyes every time Ed jams his finger in and out.

Clara said, "she was in excruciating pain, screaming for them to stop. The aliens placed their hands inside her body and under her spine until they where able to wrap them around her tail bone, then, pulling up on it, and pulling her spine out of her back. Popping noises could be heard as it broke away from her rib bones, yet there still was no blood."

Once Ed removed Deputy Felles spine and head he hung it up on the clothes rack that officers use when they are changing in the locker room. The coccyx bangs against the wall causing an echo in the locker room but it is quickly drowned out by Deputy Felles screaming at the sight of his body lying naked on the bench.

Once Clara’s head was removed she detailed how they, "picked her body up, as if they were hugging the torso and one of the aliens wedged its hands into the opened spine area, and like flaps, pulled it open and turned the top end inside out. With her blood vessels and organs exposed, they removed the bones from her legs and arms and reached into the hollowed out skin, and pulled her appendages inside out..."

Back at the police department Ed was looking at the parts of the body, as he removed the organs one by one, and placed them on the floor. Except for Deputy Felles still beating heart, that was placed off the side. The rest of the organs were strategically laid out, as if they were still in the body.

The esophagus was pulled out and placed along the lungs. His right and left femur, tibia and fibula are realigned on the ground. The blood vessels are removed and draped over the bone structure. Ed began to reassemble the deputy to specific specifications that was instilled in him from his abduction and indoctrination.

Sheriff Blake finished the article and felt uneasy. In all his years in law enforcement he had never fathomed such a horrific event to one person.

Ring- The sheriff’s phone sounds causing him to jump out of fear.

“Hello,Sheriff here" Blake says as he clears his throat.

"Hello is this Sheriff Donald Blake?” the voice said.

“Yes it is," he replied.

Hey sheriff this is Tom Waltz from the F.B.I. I was asked to give you a call. I am part of the Unexplained and Unusual Occurrence Division or the U.U.O.D. investigating the strange and unexplained."

"Hey Tom," the sheriff says, "well, I don't have much to go on, just some strange behavior from one of our regulars."

"Strange how?," Waltz askes..

"Well Ed has always been the town drunk. Aloof from everyone. He only came around like a stray dog when he needed something. But recently he has been going on and on about aliens that abducted him. He was so convincing about it. So I thought I would reach out to the F.B.I. don't ask me why I guess it may be a little too much for us to handle."

"We here at the U.U.O.D. take these matters serious sheriff, so I'm glad you called. We have had an up tick of alleged abductions. This just came across my email, so that is why I was able to call so fast." Waltz said.


*** I may pick this series back up but for now I will end it. Thanks to the reader for submitting their request in the Design Your Story section. If there is enough demand I will resume the story. Thanks for reading everyone! - cpf










Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.


Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com

Rules are Rules

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August 7th, 2012

The decision to get away for the day happened fast. I had set up rules of the house but the kids had other ideas. The thought of forty- eight hours of rule breaking and educating them on the rules over and over to reaffirm them, made my weekend uneasy.

“Okay guys, lets go get dressed we are going for a drive,” I announce.

The boys ignore me while they play with their cars in their own little world and their own little rules.

“Guys. Want to go bye-bye,” I said with a soft tone.

Like dogs hearing the dog food hit the bowl at dinner time, they jumped into action and mugged me while I sat on the couch.

“Now I got your attention, lets get dressed all of us,” I say because going for a drive in boxer shorts and diapers wasn’t going to fly.

I manage to get both boys dressed and in their carseats, boy am I getting better at this, and then I scurry about the house grabbing whatever I think we will need, just in case I decide will stay somewhere other then home, later that evening.

Sniff- Clean
Sniff- Eh, will do
Sniff- oh no, nope

I throw what I can, mainly in the diaper bag, that I bought with a manly man appeal, and used a green friendly Wal-Mart bag for the rest of the clothes. There are rules when it comes to being eco-friendly to the environment.  I shove what I can in the bag and I think to myself- boy do I need a nice duffle bag.

 I jump in the van and seat belt myself in. I look over my shoulder at my boys.

“Everyone still strapped in?” I announce, “there are rules that say you have to wear those seat belts.”

With that final announcement, I drove down the road towards north bound I-95, a major east coast interstate, for our trip to the Orlando area. And of course on this two and half hour drive, I obeyed all the traffic rules that I am required to. Even as the other drivers in their cars around me broke them.

The boys were preoccupied by the DVD player, while I drove in an almost straight line with no idea where I was going. I was breaking the travel rules without having an itinerary, but who cares when it comes to road trips. Your suppose to be spontaneous. On our journey, I decided that we would try and stay at a Walt Disney Resort.

I called up the customer relations, that booked Disney hotel rooms, and spoke to a nice lady and with classic Disney style made me feel good.

“Hi, I know you have rules when booking a reservation,” I said to Mindy the Disney representative, “however, I decided to make a last minute trip. Do you have a room available?”

And with a little Disney magic we had a room in a nice resort with a heavy toll to be paid. I was hoping it would be worth it.

After we settled in, I got the boys dressed for the pool. Before we arrived to the aquatic entertainment, I thought I better feed the boys even though there are rules that warn people about eating and swimming soon after.

“I know you guys will hardly eat but always obey the rules and wait for the food to digest before swimming,” I said to them, as if they had a clue what I was talking about. Hell even I don’t know why that is a rule.

After our quick meal it was time for some fun in the sun and enjoy some Disney magic in the pool. It was a beautiful late afternoon. The sky was a bright blue and the clear blue sky surrounded this piece of earth as if God himself had his arms around us. The sun was bright, but soft enough for the rays to gently touch our skin. The breeze was nice enough to fan the heat, that absorbed into our flesh and the people were friendly like you would hope to find  in a perfect world. You couldn’t ask for a better day.

“Rules!” I hear a voice shout out of nowhere, shaking me out of nirvana.

“We have rules, sir.” I look around, as if it were a voice from the heavens chastising me.

I then spot a young lifeguard looking in my direction. I then look around to see if he was talking to me until finally I just yell out loud for the entire pool party to hear.

“ME!” as I point to myself with my index finger.

“Yes you,” the angry lifeguard proclaimed, “ You can not toss your kid in the pool, its against the rules and you sir, did it twice,” he said calling me out in the sea of many.

“Yes, your right I did toss my kids in the pool,” being the proud daddy that I am.

“Well, you can not throw them in the pool, we have rules observe them,” he said.

“Oh, I just see the rule that says, NO DIVING, which we didn’t do.” I told him stoically.

"Well sir, everyone has rules and so does Mickey Mouse, so no jumping, diving, kicking,  hopping, skipping, flipping, using your shoulders as a spring board, cannon balls, jack knifes, tossing, grabbing or any function that entails throwing your kids”, he said in one breath.

I just stared at him and got out of the pool and went to my lounge chair.

“Sir, you don’t have to leave you know, just stating the rules,” he told me with a softer tone.

“No your right, your right,” I said. "I forgot to put on sun block. The rule is, you should use over SPF 50,” I said proudly displaying my tube of sun block that I applied to my kids prior to leaving the hotel room.

“Very good sir,” the lifeguard said, “Did you also know you should apply the sunblock a half hour before getting wet?”

Damn rules.










Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.


Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com

Monday, August 6, 2012

Take Over, Your Story Part III

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August 6th, 2012


R.T. wants to remain anonymous. R.T. used the Design Your Story Submission Form section and told me he wanted a sci-fi story. He let me run with it and I ended up with a series here. So, here is part I, I hope you enjoy R.T. and thanks for your submission. It keeps me busy and I love connecting with my readers and subscribers
 *Warning some content me be disturbing to some


Take Over, Your Story Part III


Sheriff Blake begins to think. Trying to connect the dots with what was going on with Ed. He then used his laptop in the car to search for any information about Clara in Kansas that he could...


Someone is banging on the front door of the police department. The sound of the heavy knocking echos through the empty station.

“Sheriff!” Tommy yells, “Are you in there?”

Tommy has a farm on the out skirts of town. He found Ed in his fields that are out in the middle of nowhere while he was surveying his harvest. He knows Ed all to well and he knows he doesn't travel too far from town. Ed knows where his bread and butter is, and never strayed too far.

Tommy places both forearms on the glass as he peers inside, looking for any signs of life. The building is well lit so Tommy has no problem in his search for anyone to open the door.

Buzzzzz- the door buzzer goes off indicating that it is unlocked.

Tommy opens the door and enters, stopping before the front desk and the wood partition that separates the lobby and the rest of the building. Tommy looks around surveying the empty desks and chairs for anyone who might be there.

“Sheriff!” Tommy yells out.

The police department is quite which isn’t unusual for this place.

“Hello?” Tommy says again.

He leans over the swinging door, that is about waist high. When it opens it allows the person access to the forward areas.  As he continues to stare off in the distance he doesn’t observe the TV monitors that are off to his right. The TV's are there for security purposes so the police department can be monitored by various cameras throughout the PD. 

If Tommy was more aware of what was going on around him, he would have seen a figure on monitor number eight displaying a person moving around in the hallways. His continued ignorance to what is going on begins to hinder him further as the person moves  past camera seven.

It was fast and sudden. The shadowy person moved across the floor suddenly. If he'd blinked he would have missed it. Tommy looks back and glances at the monitors but they are clear. He then grabs the phone receiver that is affixed to the wall and decides to call the sheriff personally.

“Let me see”, Tommy says trying to recall the sheriffs number.

As Tommy slowly enters the number on the key pad, camera six picks up the person, but this time it moves slow enough past the lens to get a glimpse. Tommy turns around but not quick enough, the dark person moved away. Tommy then leans over the monitors and gets a card that is resting in a card holder.

“Here's his number, 346-235…” Tommy says counting the numbers off as begins to enter it.

Camera five picks up where camera six left off. The camera is in the corridor off the main hallway. The figure is making its way to the front of the police department. Right to where Tommy is at.

We're sorry the number you dialed has been disconnect please hang up and try again“Hmm” Tommy says aloud. “Let’s try to do this again." He says hanging the receiver up then quickly removing it again.

Camera five is displaying the figure on the monitor as it moves down the hallway towards camera four. That camera displays the person moving past the evidence room and leads into camera three's line of sight. Camera two is right outside the door where Tommy is standing as he tries to dial a simple number.

Tommy has the phone receiver up to his ear. He is staring at his reflection in the glass window pane that is casting his reflection back at him as the inside light clashes with the blackness of night trapping all the reflections inside the police department. The line connects and the ringing of the other phone can be heard form Tommy's handset, he got the number right. 

He stands with his arms crossed. He right forearm is upwards that is bracing the receiver to his ear. Behind Tommy, who is oblivious to the reflection of the main hallway door opening slowly as the dark figure moves out from the hallway and into the room with Tommy. Tommy continues to stare forward not aware of the moving figure headed his way.

“Hey Sheriff”, Tommy says, “Guess I got your voicemail. Anyway I am here at the police department but there is no one here…”

While Tommy talks to the sheriff’s phone recorder the shadow figure is moving much more closely to him, slowly reaching out to his left shoulder. Camera one is displaying the action in the monitor just to his left but he is not looking that way.

"I’ll be standing by the main phone until you call. I think I am the only one left in the world with no cell phone. Talk to you soon. Bye-bye.” Tommy leans down to place the phone back on the cradle.

He leans forward as the hand of the creepy figure reaches over him like a hook. Tommy places the phone receiver down on the base. As he leans back the hand grabs his shoulder and pulls him back violently.

“AHHHH”, Tommy screams.

PART IV SOON










Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.


Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Take Over, Your Story Part II

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August 5th, 2012




R.T. wants to remain anonymous. R.T. used the Design Your Story Submission Form section and told me he wanted a sci-fi story. He let me run with it and I ended up with a series here. So, here is part I, I hope you enjoy R.T. and thanks for your submission. It keeps me busy and I love connecting with my readers and subscribers!


                                        *Warning some content me be disturbing to some


Take Over, Your Story Part II


The sheriff wondered where she lived as he thumbed through the book trying to get more information on the author. He couldn’t locate an exact location. He could only surmise from her description in the book that she was captured in a desolate place. A lot like Ed was. Sheriff Blake could only assume that the more desolate the place the less likely they, the aliens, would be spotted. But why choose who they chose to experiment on...
 


Back at the police department Deputy Robert “Bobby” Felles began to worry why he hadn’t heard from Ed lately. He walked over to the camera and noticed that Ed wasn’t sleeping. He was just sitting on the cold metal bench that is inside the jail cells. Concerned for his well being Bobby decided to go into the holding cells to make sure he was okay.


“Ed? Hey buddy you okay.” Felles says tapping on the metal bars with his keys. Ed just sat there humming intensely.


“Ed!” Felles shouts, “What is wrong with you.” Heeding what the sheriff told him Deputy Felles goes into another cell block and retrieves some water from the sink and returns to confront Ed.


This time Ed is standing up facing the bars. Both his hands are grasping the cold steal as he looks at Felles.


“Hi Deputy Felles”, Ed said cool, collected and calm.


“Ed what is the matter with you? I went and got you some water.” Deputy Felles hand shook as he presented the water to Ed but Ed didn’t move.


“Go on Ed, take it. I know it isn’t your beverage of choice but a little water never did anyone no harm.”, Felles said trying to ease the situation.


Ed stared at Deputy Felles. He had a slight smile to his face and cocked his head to the left. “Okay Deputy Felles, thank you for the water.” Ed reaches out and takes the cup from his hand.


Deputy Felles jumped back slightly. He was expecting Ed to do something other than grab the water but that never transpired.


Haha - Deputy Felles laughs. “Whoa, okay then, well enjoy the water Ed.” Deputy Felles said while turning to go back out to the desk.


Oh. Deputy Felles”, Ed said, “Can you come back here for a second. I’d like to tell you something”, Ed said calmly and with a smile.


Sheriff Blake was still in his patrol car reading the book to shed more light on Ed’s situation. Ed’s awkward behavior has really concerned him. Ed’s been arrested numerous times over the years and his behavior had never been this strange. Something was going on with him, but what was it? And if aliens existed why did they pick a known drunk and petty thief to dissect. Did they know what they were getting themselves into with this one?


Towards the end of the book that Sheriff Blake was reading in fast forward mode, he caught the name Clara in the wording. He stopped suddenly on the page and began to read.


I was in an interview with them and they asked me my name, Clara I said in my haze. It was almost like a dream. Like having a flash back into my memory that is real but not quite really sure if it was for real. It seemed like they were comparing notes to what was in my memory. Reaffirming the information that they had stole from me. Clara May Hamilton is my full name. I lived in Kansas my whole life, I told them. I lived on the farm that my daddy and brothers owned tending to a large dairy farm. In the small town, I was from, there wasn’t much to do but go out in the fields, build bomb fires, drink, smoke, and have sex with other farmer boys. They seemed intrigued by my way of life. How no one took me seriously. For a girl I drank too much and smoked too much weed. It seemed that they were interested in that and I can’t figure out why. Once they confirmed the information I felt like I was indoctrinated with some of their own personal theories and beliefs. I don’t think that they expected me to remember. In all their intelligence I guess they took me for a small time idiot. If they would have delved deeper into my mind they would have scene that I skipped several grades because of my learning capacity. My father felt that since I was already born smart I didn’t need school. So he withdrew me from classes and I worked on the farm with my brothers.


I don’t think that aliens thought I had the capacity to remember. But I do. I can’t forget something so horrific like that time in wherever hell they had me in…

Sheriff Blake begins to think. Trying to connect the dots with what was going on with Ed. He then used his laptop in the car to search for any information about Clara in Kansas that he could.


Part III Is already to go...










Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.


Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com