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stonesl1What’s It Worth to Ya?

We propose a thought experiment. Close your eyes—well, read this first, then close them—and pretend you live in a mansion worth approximately $8,427,888. It’s a nice place. Your annual income is above $2,000,000, so don’t worry, you can handle the payments. Your feet, in silk slippers, are double cosseted by the Persian rug under your feet. It was woven in 1870 or so and set you back about $500k. But people always comment on it at your parties. As you like to do every day, you are taking a few moments to view your most prized painting. It’s a scene of cowboys set in the grandeur of snow-capped mountains, painted by a name anyone acquainted with art would know. When you first saw it, it stirred memories of your childhood trips to Sun Valley. So you bid on it, and kept bidding, even as the price moved above a million. Now it’s yours. It was worth it. Nothing you own feels so much like a treasure. Nonetheless, you have other things that are costly and that others covet. We’ll let you paint in the details of the cars in the garage, the speedboat rocking against the dock, the home entertainment system…

That was fun, wasn’t it?

Now, imagine that we are reforming government along the lines of zero-based budgeting. In other words, at the end of each year, all services and taxes are returned to zero. No income tax, no sales tax, no property tax. Unless we decide to require them this year. No trash collection, no highway maintenance, no record keeping. Unless we decide to pay for them this year. Nothing carries over. Past assumptions are dead.

Now, how much would you pay for police protection? [Read more…]

What’s It Worth to Ya?

stonesl

is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s called optimism.

Belief in misleading ideas

stonesl1Oh, Jack

by Jonathan Weisberg

“Tell me your name,” Vicky said.

He was still dazed in the penumbra of their last kiss, and the simple request confounded him. Vicky pulled away, so that the points where her skin had been against his a moment before felt wet as they adjusted to the coolness of the air.

“I told you already,” he finally said. His mind had raced ahead of his body to explore domains of pleasure far beyond self-coherence, and it had trouble backtracking to this mundane ground.

“Not that,” she said. “Please. I’m not some giddy girl who’s never gotten over her fantasy of him. I’m not playing that game. I want the real you.” She then seemed to notice the discomfort in his eyes without understanding its cause, and she added, “Do you get a lot of those girls throwing themselves at you?” [Read more…]

Oh, Jack

stonesl1Red Mask

By B. Clim

The gong sounded as the first sliver of sun appeared. Mia knew what it meant, and she braced herself against the sadness.

Buy Red Mask Stories

[COMING SOON] If you enjoy this story, buy the full story cycle by B. Clim:
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“Mistress, I am so sorry for the disturbance.” Ina, Mia’s maidservant, backed into the room and promptly kneeled in the appropriate spot. “I beg you not to be displeased.” She bent her body down to the ground and waited for a response from her mistress.

“I am not displeased with you,” Mia said. “You can show the men in.” Ina looked at her mistress and blinked in surprise.

Mia had not slept the night before, and she was not only fully dressed, but elaborately dressed, with a red silk gown tied over a black lining. These were the colors of mourning. Mia’s hair was combed smooth, and her face, which required no paint to whiten its perfect complexion, was carefully marked with black eyeliner and the color of blood on her lips. [Read more…]

Red Mask

stonesl

in love and preschool drop-off.

All’s fair

stonesl

It coalesced into a void.

I had a thought yesterday.

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