Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Passport (07/25/05)
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TITLE: Passport Please | Previous Challenge Entry
By Nathan Reedy
07/27/05 -
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“Why did I pack so much?” the old man thought. The old man went through twenty tightly packed cases, yet they seemed light for what he usually packs. As he picked up the last one, he saw that every one had been incinerated. He stood there confused until a man in uniform took his last case and threw it onto the conveyer belt.
“No! Wait!” he spoke, “I will sue you! I am Ricardo de Orlando, one of the richest men in Italy!”
“Sir, you do not need to worry about your luggage,” a guard said in Italian.
The old man watched the last case burn with hay flying from it. After hearing the guard and seeing the hay, the old man assumed his luggage was already serviced to the plane. He moved on to the next line.
Eventually the old man got to the front of the line and the lady at the front asked in Italian, “Passport, please.”
The old man put on a confused smile and said, “Oh, yes, my passport, the sooner I get to Waterford, the better.” The old man searched through his pockets, but he could find no passports or anything at all. “Well, I know I must have gotten a ticket, I just came from that area.”
“Sir,” the lady replied, “If you have no passport, please wait in those seats over there.”
“Alright,” the old man said. The old man sat and waited for what seemed to be to be too long. The man stood up to talk to the guard again, “Sir, when will I get my ticket?”
The guard answered, “Sir, if you did no receive your passport before hand, you cannot receive one now.”
“Well, then, let me go to the bank so I can purchase one.”
“You do not need to purchase one.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your passport has already been paid for.”
“By whom?”
The guard pointed over to a Strange Man behind the front desk in the lobby: He seemed to be giving away tickets with no apparent requirements.
“Well, then, let me just go get mine then.”
“No, sir, you cannot,” the guard said blocking him.
“But I must get to Waterford.”
“Waterford is behind you.”
“I know that is why I must get my passport.”
“No!” exclaimed the guard. The guard pointed toward the lounge where people received their passports. The old man saw he pointed toward a magazine that had large print on it saying, “WATERFORD.” An eerie feeling told him this was more than just a magazine. He saw other ‘magazines’: “PARIS, LONDON, MADRID, PARIS, HONG KONG, NEW YORK, ROME, VENICE, CAIRO, and MOSCOW.” All these and thousands more scattered throughout the room. The man began to freeze in his thoughts. He was even more terrified to see people hiding behind these titles, looking in mirrors, wandering about the room, trying to grab hold of water or air while few stopped by the front desk to receive their passport from the Strange Man.
“I must get my passport!” The old man shuffled through the guard and went behind the desk to this Man, “Sir, I will gladly receive my passport now.”
The Strange Man did not turn his head, but simply said quietly and simply in a foreign tongue, “I know you not.” Somehow the old man understood this language. He began to understand what was taking place.
“Where does this plane go?” asked the old man to the guard.
“The plane boarding goes to the New Kingdom. If you have not received your passport, you must be seated in the waiting chairs.”
The old man slowly made his way for his seat. “What are we waiting for?” asked his terrified voice.
“The garbage cycle,” the guard said plainly.
The old man waited in pure fear. Eventually there was no one left in the gate except for those in the waiting chairs. Every one of these people was petrified and as stiff as rocks. Guards silently came and tossed them down the garbage shoot. They knew the truth, they have heard it before. They just could not get the thought out of their minds that they have never lived the Truth. These people were not men of the New Kingdom but old men.
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