Tagapalooza, Part 3a continued from Phydeaux!

This all started with Splotchy, who started a viral story that is being passed around among the bloggers in this little corner of the world and beyond, I'm sure.

One strain of the virus reached Phydeaux, and he has kindly picked me as the tag-ee (should it be taggee?) to write the next installment.

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I woke up hungry. I pulled my bedroom curtain to the side and looked out on a hazy morning. I dragged myself into the kitchen, in search of something to eat. I reached for a jar of applesauce sitting next to the sink, and found it very cold to the touch. I opened the jar and realized it was frozen. (Splotchy)

I was used to the house being quite cold in the mornings, as the night log usually burns out around one AM when I am dreaming cozily under my covers, not normally waking to put a new one on until morning. I was surprised because on the rare occasions that it actually had reached sub-freezing temperatures in the house, I had awakened in the night to restart the fire. I would have been worried about the pipes before P-Day, but there hadn’t been running water in two years and that was one of the few advantages to being dependent on rainwater, no pipes. (Freida Bee)

The nightmares began during the following spring. The apple trees came to life in my dreams. At first the trees spoke and I thought they were amusing. That changed when the messages arrived. Lately, their anger was directed at me. (mathman6293)

I turned and stared out the kitchen window, past the frosty-lidded cistern to the orchard beyond. My trees, my beautiful fruit trees, stood leafless and dark. I wished with all my heart that this was just a normal winter thing, but it wasn’t.

“Why are you blaming me, guys? You know I love you. You watched me go out and vote that last time, in the ice-storm. It’s not like I didn’t try!”

I turned with a sigh and went to the phone to give Zaius a call. Perhaps The Good Doctor had made some incremental progress on his Long-Shot-Theory. (TCR)

Couldn’t reach him or anyone by phone. Line’s dead, as dead as everything else it seemed and so i thumped down right where i stood hugging the ratty blanket i had wrapped about myself a little tighter and let the air in my lungs out in a moist little puff of despair. (Sherry)

A while passed before I shook myself out of my retreat. I stood slowly, trying to be strong, think positive, find a way to make frozen lemonade out of these frozen lemons.

Then I remembered that it was Tuesday, the day that The Core had agreed to meet at the big firepit over at Phy’s place. It was one of the last safe havens for those of us who still believed we could reverse the changes.

This was going to be a long day, and perhaps an even longer night. I dressed warmly and headed out into the cold. (TCR)

Malcolm and MacBeth, my two wolfhounds, bounded up as I crossed the yard to the barn and, noticing the provisions I was carrying, ran ahead to nudge open Scout's stall. I kicked the snow off of my boots as I entered the barn. Scout seemed as eager for a journey as the hounds, and waited impatiently as I saddled him and stowed the food and other supplies in the saddlebags.

I threw down some extra hay from the loft for the cows, some extra scratch for the chickens, then pulled myself up on Scout's back and set off down the old road towards the meeting. I stopped briefly at the Anderson place to ask them to keep an eye on my place while I was gone, and told them I'd be back in a day or two. (Phydeaux)

Scout broke into a trot as we reached the main road. I pulled back on the reins and slowed him down a bit, as the old asphalt pavement was crumbling and full of potholes, and I didn't want him to catch his hoof in one of them and go down.

Malcolm and MacBeth ran back and forth, following trails of scent on the ground and looking for rabbits as we continued onward.

Hours passed and we finally arrived; the firepit was burning brightly in the back yard of the house, warding off the cold and dark of the July twilight. (Mauigirl).

OK, now who is next who hasn't already done this?

I pick...

Mary Ellen of The Divine Democrat. Mary Ellen, if you decline, please send it on to someone else! Let's keep it going until it reaches its conclusion!

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