Chocolate Bones
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- Joined
- Feb 16, 2008
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Sorry for the delay, but...
Drumroll please! *drumrolls* The wait is over!
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Drumroll please! *drumrolls* The wait is over!
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You stare out into the dark blue abyss as you rocket across the ocean floor. It’s hard to tell how fast you’re going. You don’t feel the speed, only the cool air flowing through the comfortably spaced car you’ve been assigned to. The sleek train seems to have everything: a small television broadcasting the news, a bookshelf packed with insightful books on Pokémon training, coordinating, grooming, breeding, and battling, comfortable seats that are big enough to be beds. Every now and then the small TV changes from the news to a digital menu where you order your food. You can’t remember how long you’ve been on the train, how many meals you’ve gone through or how many of those books you’ve read. Your excitement is clouding your thoughts. You can’t stop looking at the bright, black and gold invitation in your hand, with the midnight seal in bright gold on the front. In the distance you can barely see the silhouette of a pod of Wailord swimming by. All of this just seems too surreal for you to grasp.
A familiar beep breaks the silence, preceding an announcement from an equally familiar voice.
“Hello, passengers,” says the feminine voice, “we are approaching the island. It will be less than an hour before we reach school grounds.” The red lights above the smooth, white doors at opposite ends of the car fade to green. “Please feel free to order your lunch and wander the train as we make our arrival. Thank you!” As if on cue the TV screen flashes an electronic menu full of appealing choices. You shake yourself out of your daze and stand up, stretching. You look out the window again. The group of Wailord is gone, off on their own journey as you are on yours.
A familiar beep breaks the silence, preceding an announcement from an equally familiar voice.
“Hello, passengers,” says the feminine voice, “we are approaching the island. It will be less than an hour before we reach school grounds.” The red lights above the smooth, white doors at opposite ends of the car fade to green. “Please feel free to order your lunch and wander the train as we make our arrival. Thank you!” As if on cue the TV screen flashes an electronic menu full of appealing choices. You shake yourself out of your daze and stand up, stretching. You look out the window again. The group of Wailord is gone, off on their own journey as you are on yours.