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Archive for May, 2010
Posted by Rusty-Gunn | May 21, 2010 @ 09:15 PM | 34,023 Views
On the west side of Cemetary Hill sits a jungle of willow bushes so thick that sound barely escapes. When it does, I'm told, it resembles choking and sputtering, anger and anguish. Whistles are known to be heard by those passing by. Shadows, like monsters, scurry about in the breeze. Mother always said never to play near it.

Cool Kelly was an R/C flyer, and favored building his own planes from foam material. He enjoyed using depron a lot, but would take whatever was on sale, as his meager weekly allowance couldn't support two hobbies - r/c planes and paying off zit-faced Charlie to leave him alone at recess.

It was late evening when he and Johnny went out to fly. Johnny didn't fly much though, he was all thumbs as they say. He was there to give Cool Kelly atta-boys, if anything.
The plane in hand was Dekan's F-22. This was the newest plane in Cool Kelly's hanger. It was the only plane in the hanger - all others were, shall we say," given" away?
"Make sure the controls are set right." said Johnny. "You remember what happened yesterday, don't you?"
"But I didn't fly yesteday."
"Exactly. Nothing happened yesterday, so make sure nothing happens today."
Sometimes Johnny made sense. Like when he said CK could earn double his money back if he invests in his lemonade stand. Unfortunately, CK only pulled in fifty cents that day. It wasn't anyone's fault the lemonade didn't taste right. Johnny couldn't tell salt from sugar.

The F-22...Continue Reading