by Michael Zaphah

Created on: June 11, 2009

The Watchmen's Chronicle:Chapter 1 The Tower of Babel is Rising

My life today could have taken a turn for the worst person with good survival skill's like a Marine on a slide for life, and what started out with a day that was like wet newspaper my head. The forecast envisage a rainy days, but because of my stubborn blind of not look at the rain cloud in the sky, I got drenched. How you may ask by not paying attention to that thin side walk ahead, which would mean that the out of the twenty-seven million motorist on the roads of Los Angeles City I would be soaked to the skin by three thousand of them. Even though that wasn't enough to make a bad day, what if I got to work and people where moving my stuff out and replacing my nametag on the door. Would that constitute a bad day if I lost my job? How about if lost my house because of a bank error, or my girlfriend left me for a ugly excuse of a man that cheated me out wonderful life would that define as bad day?

Moreover the reason that I am calling this particular day bad, which could never even be defined as bad, and even with the winds chipping away at the portals of my time here on earth because I have an eroding terminal disease, and never would have came to the conclusion that brought me to this end in my life. This day on my sixtieth birthday when I should be going to Denny's or some surprise birthday party to be given well wish of long life instead I am being lead away to a firing squad, which in moments will bring my life to a final haunting halt. For the sake of laughing at death I would even take the surprise birthday party that if by chance the guest had jumped out yelling surprise I would die of a heart attack instead of what is about to be fall me now.

Because I wrote an article and pressed enter, this began my plight of poetic justice something like this: July 18, 2163 Volume two of "The Watchmen Chronicle" Subject: The Rise and fall of the American breadbasket. Body: What began with the constantly growing of this freed monster of the heads state of a seven-headed government that is ruling the people of world with fury of brutality I question if by God to keep my cover and watch this government kill off the innocent or leave while I have the chance to save my own skin? In addition, the watching over this deadly beast as it raised it heads began it pursuit of me long before I was ever born in the sixties of the twentieth century.

I was abiding in the sea of this melting pot of my land of fruitful

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