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Capt and the Kid ch4The Adventures of the Captain and The Kid.
Chapter Four: Two Orphans
The Captain wasn't exactly overjoyed by Beatrice's questions. In fact he was really quite annoyed because they were the very same questions everyone asked him. Have you really gone all the way through time? Are you really from the future? Why do you dress like that? Are you crazy?!, and several more.
His monotonal answers in this order were, "Yes. No. Because I feel like it. No." Beatrice asked more questions and finally that Captain said, "Why don't you just have me write an autobiography and then you can read it and know everything?"
Beatrice blushed. "I'm sorry. My curiosity often gets the best of me. But I have one more question."
The Captain sighed. "What is it now?"
"May I please come with you? I would love to find out what happened to my parents. They died six months after I was born and Roger took me in and raised me. I want to see what happened to them."
The Captain hesitated. "Alright." he finally said. "You
Capt and The Kid ch3The Adventures of the Captain and the Kid
Chapter Three: Beatrice
Bernard squinted against the sun as he noticed that they were basically riding towards the endless desert he had just come from and was kind of doubtful that this Captain Fantastic was a fraud or the real deal. He brushed a hair away from his eyes and turned to the Captain who was silent, looking forward. Captain, he said. How are we getting to the past going along the same path as everyone else leaving town does? The Captain turned his head to him briefly then looked away.
We arent. he stated simply. Bernard frowned.
What? It looks the same to me.
It looks the same, yes, but are there not things in this world that are completely identical but are really completely different?
I guess so. But whats so special about this road?
That road, the Captain pointed to the left and Bernard noticed a path in the distance that was the norm
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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