Name: Anonymous 2011-12-17 2:47
CATACOMB
by John Carmack
Your hand gestures, palm upward, in a delicate, practiced position. Suddenly,
a small ball of light appears from nothingness, sparkling with energy. You
turn your hand forward, extending your fingers rigidly. A bolt of brilliant
light leaps out with supernatural fierceness, making the hairs on your arm
stand on end. The bolt courses through the air, illuminating the room with
harsh light, and striking a metal container. Its contents begin to bubble,then
boil with incredible heat. Grimacing, you withdraw your hand and the light is
gone.
"I'm the most powerful magician in the world," you think to yourself, "and here
I am making tea."
You walk over to the kettle, pour a cup, and sit down at the kitchen table.
"There must be more to life," you think, sipping your Orange Pekoe.
by John Carmack
Your hand gestures, palm upward, in a delicate, practiced position. Suddenly,
a small ball of light appears from nothingness, sparkling with energy. You
turn your hand forward, extending your fingers rigidly. A bolt of brilliant
light leaps out with supernatural fierceness, making the hairs on your arm
stand on end. The bolt courses through the air, illuminating the room with
harsh light, and striking a metal container. Its contents begin to bubble,then
boil with incredible heat. Grimacing, you withdraw your hand and the light is
gone.
"I'm the most powerful magician in the world," you think to yourself, "and here
I am making tea."
You walk over to the kettle, pour a cup, and sit down at the kitchen table.
"There must be more to life," you think, sipping your Orange Pekoe.