Kenny was lost. It was the dead of winter in the plains of Nebraska. Dead of winter. Kenny and the dead of winter would have something in common in a matter of minutes. The dead part.
It was just after a snow storm and all the twigs and brush he could find were sopping wet. There was no chance he could make a fire. Kenny was freezing to death.
Kenny knew there was little chance of survival. Foolishly, he had been hiking with himself and when the storm hit he lost the trail and now he had no idea where he was. He knew he was going to die but he had to fight. And then he saw it. An old cross made out of twigs. The date 1847 was carved into one of the twigs. It was the grave of someone who had been crossing the plains.
"My gosh," Kenny whispered as he began digging.
He didn't have to dig much before finding an old breadbox. He opened it and nearly threw-up when he saw the remains of a small baby inside of it. But luckily the wood of the breadbox was still dry. So he carefully put the bones back into the grave and found the driest spot of ground he could. He then stomped on and broke the breadbox. He rubbed two pieces of wood together and made a fire.
The fire kept him warm the rest of the night and helicopters from search parties looking for him saw the smoke. Kenny was found and flown back to the hospital in Lincoln, where he was treated for hypothermia.
The reason he survived the bitter cold of the Nebraskan winter: a breadbox.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
The Breadbox From Hell
Her alarm had already gone off four times and she had hit snooze every time. It was going off for the fifth time now. She would have hit the snooze button again, but after the fourth time it doesn’t let you and she had to just turn it off and get out of bed.
She threw off her covers and stepped into her cozy, pink slippers so her feet wouldn’t get cold when she stepped on the tile outside her room and in the kitchen. She walked into the kitchen and opened her cupboard. Dang it. No cereal. There was not enough time to prepare breakfast before she had to go the church. She opened the fridge. Nothing there either except for a carton of plain yogurt, which she only liked when it was mixed with cereal.
Then she noticed a breadbox on the counter. That’s new. Wonder where it came from. No matter. She opened it and found a loaf of whole grain bread. She opened the bag and pulled out a slice, which dissolved in her hand. In its place was a note. Meet me in your chapel ten minutes before church.
What was going on? Her cell phone rang. She ignored it. She stared at the note, frustrated that the ringing of her cell phone was distracting her thoughts. The phone finally stopped ringing and then there was a beep notifying her of a voicemail. She stared at the note. She just kept staring. Her cell phone beeped four times. A text message. Shaking, she walked to her room. The cell phone was on her nightstand and it was the only thing lighting the room. Stepping over a few pairs of shoes, she walked over to the nightstand and checked her missed calls and texts. Four missed calls and eight texts all from her roommate. She was too lazy to take the time to listen to the voicemails but she read all the texts.
What did u do 2 the breadbox. lol! ; ) ill def meet u after my meetings.
where ru
not funny.
breadbox
cant breathe
rate of!
[blank]
bye 4ever
After this, she had to listen to the voicemails. But all of them were just silence. She wasn’t sure what was going on but she had a feeling she should not do what that note said. Instead, she showed up ten minutes late for church.
Her roommate missed church. Her roommate never missed church.
After church, she walked home hoping to find her roommate asleep on the couch. Maybe complaining of a stomachache to excuse her church absence. But that’s not what she found when she walked in.
“You’re next” was written using pieces of bread and stuck to the wall. She felt like she was frozen. Green gas started coming out of the breadbox and enveloping her. She was suffocating. She fell to her knees and then the only thing left of her was an envelope of skin.
That’s when the breadbox turned into a pile of ashes and swirled away. It returned from whence it came: hell.
She threw off her covers and stepped into her cozy, pink slippers so her feet wouldn’t get cold when she stepped on the tile outside her room and in the kitchen. She walked into the kitchen and opened her cupboard. Dang it. No cereal. There was not enough time to prepare breakfast before she had to go the church. She opened the fridge. Nothing there either except for a carton of plain yogurt, which she only liked when it was mixed with cereal.
Then she noticed a breadbox on the counter. That’s new. Wonder where it came from. No matter. She opened it and found a loaf of whole grain bread. She opened the bag and pulled out a slice, which dissolved in her hand. In its place was a note. Meet me in your chapel ten minutes before church.
What was going on? Her cell phone rang. She ignored it. She stared at the note, frustrated that the ringing of her cell phone was distracting her thoughts. The phone finally stopped ringing and then there was a beep notifying her of a voicemail. She stared at the note. She just kept staring. Her cell phone beeped four times. A text message. Shaking, she walked to her room. The cell phone was on her nightstand and it was the only thing lighting the room. Stepping over a few pairs of shoes, she walked over to the nightstand and checked her missed calls and texts. Four missed calls and eight texts all from her roommate. She was too lazy to take the time to listen to the voicemails but she read all the texts.
What did u do 2 the breadbox. lol! ; ) ill def meet u after my meetings.
where ru
not funny.
breadbox
cant breathe
rate of!
[blank]
bye 4ever
After this, she had to listen to the voicemails. But all of them were just silence. She wasn’t sure what was going on but she had a feeling she should not do what that note said. Instead, she showed up ten minutes late for church.
Her roommate missed church. Her roommate never missed church.
After church, she walked home hoping to find her roommate asleep on the couch. Maybe complaining of a stomachache to excuse her church absence. But that’s not what she found when she walked in.
“You’re next” was written using pieces of bread and stuck to the wall. She felt like she was frozen. Green gas started coming out of the breadbox and enveloping her. She was suffocating. She fell to her knees and then the only thing left of her was an envelope of skin.
That’s when the breadbox turned into a pile of ashes and swirled away. It returned from whence it came: hell.
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