To whom it may concern:

You may notice the last post possesses a drastically changed presentation than previous posts.  It was a little random indeed.  We here at Slaughter drop the S feel that it is nice to change gears a bit to spice things up.  Fiction is a way of doing just that.  It allows a certain ambiguity of the writer.  We here at Slaughter drop the S enjoy a bit of change and emphasize creative exercise with regards to all our contributors.  On a side note, this was the first instance that the writer has ever used narrative format for the speech of characters in a fictional work.  In this fact, we find that there was indeed creative stretching involved in the process of writing said post.  Language can be used to convey any number of thoughts, ideas, actions, and emotions.  In closing, the Slaughter, drop the S team would now like to wish you a wonderful day, but has decided that a winky-face more appropriately conveys the emotion desired. . .       ;)  We hope to continue serving our readers with enlightening and engaging posts for the betterment of our world.
Sincerely,
Slaughter, drop the S

The Crickets

When I woke, the sound of chirping was all I could hear.  The cicadas and their harsh piercing croak, and the crickets with their softer more subtle trilling.  The room in which we occupied was dimly lit.  I rolled over to wake Asan, only to find that, we were sleeping on the hard wooden floor.  To my utter surprise, there was nothing else.  There was nothing of the plush pillows, the mattress of down fit for a king, the rich wall hangings, not even the tiger skin throw was in it's proper place where once was the foot of the bed.  Not even crumbs from our sugar cookies and milk we gorged ourselves with last night remained.  The only object that had not scampered was a solitary candle flickering in defiance of the barren wasteland that once had been a bedroom.
"Asan. . ."
"Asan, wake up!"
"Hur?  mmpphh."
"It's gone, everything is gone."
"mmmrrmmm..."
"Wake up!"
He did not wake.