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-   -   A long story (http://cellar.org/showthread.php?t=31083)

xoxoxoBruce 07-26-2015 01:02 AM

A long story
 
This is a very long story. A mystery of sorts. It turned out to be 40 pages of size 14 type in MS WORD.

Gravdigr 07-26-2015 02:21 AM

Damn you.

I had planned on sleeping tonight...

Gravdigr 07-26-2015 03:52 AM

Folks, don't start the story unless you got some free time on your hands...

...You won' t be able to stop reading.

Outstanding find, Bruce, thank you for posting that.

fargon 07-26-2015 09:50 AM

It held me start to finish.

Gravdigr 07-26-2015 02:16 PM

It's a page turner.

footfootfoot 07-26-2015 10:19 PM

Can someone tell me what the fuck that story was about? I read the whole thing and feel like I was missing some important pages.

never mind, I didn't see parts III and IV

xoxoxoBruce 07-26-2015 11:12 PM

There's another story over there, much shorter, called Track B. I liked it, but I don't have the link. If you run across it give it a try... unless you're one of those folks who has a life. ;)

footfootfoot 07-27-2015 12:23 PM

OK, finished it.

Supposedly the story is true, but comments questioning it's veracity will be deleted. Didn't sound too true to me.

While well written, the story itself was somewhat weak.

Also, it's never "him and her went to..." or "her and her mom were the only..."

and other shit like that that automatically DQs him from "Best short story" awards. If him and her in a story merits an award, then I give up.

Gravdigr 07-27-2015 01:48 PM

Award? True story?

Clodfobble 07-27-2015 03:22 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by footfootfoot
Supposedly the story is true,

Surely they're not claiming that. That's just stupid.

xoxoxoBruce 07-27-2015 06:51 PM

The only reference to truth that I saw was.
Quote:

This story is about a place that dwells on the mountain; a place where bad things happen. And you may think you know about the bad things, you may decide you have it all figured out but you don’t. Because the truth is worse than monsters or men.
I was guessing they were illegally mining Uranium for Saddam Husain. ;)

footfootfoot 07-28-2015 06:12 PM

1 Attachment(s)
At the part near comments there is a note

footfootfoot 07-28-2015 06:17 PM

Then I found this:

#1 Frequently Asked NoSleep Question of All Time
Q: I'm still so confused. Is everything here actually true?
A: No. It's all fiction, and everyone is pretending.

So I guess if you have to tell someone that they are required to suspend disbelief it sounds like the same logic that communist countries use to keep people from leaving communist paradise. You must stay.

There is also someone who is making a movie of it, apparently:
https://www.reddit.com/r/BorrascaMovie/

And there's this:
https://www.reddit.com/r/NoSleepOOC/...t_discrepancy/

xoxoxoBruce 07-28-2015 06:33 PM

You've become internetized, reading everything with an eye out for contradictions or discrepancies. :lol2:

xoxoxoBruce 08-26-2015 01:14 PM

Another story from reddit, but short, only one page.

Quote:

Maybe I allowed myself to be disarmed by the fact that he came at three in the afternoon. He knocked very softly for a man of his stature, hulking as he was at six foot four with wide shoulders and big, hairy knuckles. When I asked how I could help him, he reached into his coat pocket, withdrew an envelope, and held it out to me. Who wears a coat in August? I took the envelope and looked it over. Its face was stamped over several times with information for the St. Louis Correctional Facility. A letter from prison. Great. I didn’t know anyone in prison. Then, I noticed a post-it note paperclipped to the back of the envelope. It read simply:

Please allow the courier to be present to witness the reading of this letter.

I looked up at the man towering over me on the porch. Though he was large, he didn’t appear threatening. If anything, his calm smile made me think he might be rather friendly. I asked if he had any clue about the contents of the letter or why his presence was necessary for the reading, but the tall man shrugged and gestured towards the foyer. I nodded and invited him in.

In the kitchen, we both sat across from one another at the table. I offered him some coffee, but he silently declined. Glancing up at him one last time, I peeled the flap back and pulled out a ten-page letter, scrawn in hasty handwriting on lined yellow paper. The letter began:...
:unsure:


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