Jessica Simpson stood at the window of the one of the largest public relations firms in the world that specialized in celebrities. It was the forty-fourth floor facing north, and Jessica could see Central Park in Manhattan over the tops of the residential buildings lining Central Park South. Jessica was wearing a conservative dress, cut just above the knees with pumps. The dress was modest. And everything was black except for the white pearl necklace and pearl studs in her ear lobes. He hair was pulled back in a pony tail, and her face was glistening clean, her skin as smooth as a baby. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she was favoring her left leg, her right knee very slightly bent. (more…)
The Muslim boy sat with his father on a Gaza beach. The white sand around the father was red from the blood that was blasted from the father’s body from a stray Israeli bomb. The Muslim boy was eight years old. (more…)
Hi Dixie Chicks. This is Jesus. I hope you do not mind my method of communication, using a text message. It is the most convenient means for me to communicate. These days I have lots of options, but texting is most cost effective. Plus, I got an advanced version of the Motorola Q and I wanted to try it out. (more…)
Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the President of Iran, sat on an unfinished teak chair in a large room with a red carpet, white walls and a cheap drop ceiling. The large wraparound windows that formed this empty corner conference room of the Iranian Finance Building in Tehran was on the seventh floor facing a traffic circle. The air conditioners filled the room with a calm hum, and the hazy day diffused the sunlight washing the room with a soft easy glow. (more…)
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