Welcome to the Conspiracy Cafe

The characters in this piece are not real people, but are based and written as composite images of several people that I have met over the years. The names and places are not real either and are written they same way.

If you think you have encountered a victim of human trafficking, call the National Human Trafficking Resource Center, 1-888-373-7888, open 24 hours a day/7 days a week. In cases of emergency, call 911...for more information click this link to State.gov and help stop the sex trade.

A World Away
In a dark room on an old metal desk sat a solitary telephone. A single light illuminated the windowless room and a very large aging man sat hunched over the desk. A small framed picture of President Bush sat on one corner and other than some utilitarian items there was nothing else. The phone rang three times and the man answered in a gravelly Russian voice. "How many made it in? Seven you say...good." With that he hung the phone up on the cradle. Reached into a drawer and pulled out a bottle of vodka and a glass. He poured himself a shot and swallowed it; then with one sweep of his arm he threw the glass and the framed picture of President Bush on the floor. Laughing as it all shattered into a thousand pieces. He continued his bellowing laughter as he left the room. There on the floor amidst the broken glass was a single drop of blood. A metal splinter on the frame had scratched his hand unbeknown st to him.

Somewhere a million miles away the two men that had left the club closed a laptop on the trunk of a car at the top of a parking garage. They were laughing too. "So how long;" one said to the other.

"A matter of minutes until he's dead." It had taken them several years to get that framed picture into that office and several more for the events of the day to unfold. It was worth it to them.

"So how much does this psychic girl really know?"

"Consciously; not that much..but subconsciously she knows everything."

"How is that?"

"She is so telepathic that as a defense mechanism against mental noise she accepts most of her input into her subconscious as her conscious mind cannot handle the amount of information she takes in. When you talk to her; it's as if she knows things that she doesn't have clearance to possibly know just simply because her subconcious overflows into her concious mind as she speaks. She does'nt really comprehend what she is saying but her subconcious does."

"So why are we talking to her at all?"

"The docs say one day; she may be able to lower the walls as she accepts what is going on around her; allowing the subconcious to share more information to her concious side. I want to be there when it happens; she will be one helluva an asset to have. But for now we talk to her subconcious and try to acclimate her concious side."

"How did you do that?"

"Did you see her new shoes?"

"What did you say to her?"

"Just a general 'who'?"

"Was there a response?"

"Yep, seven turns to the grocery store, seven cups of coffee, seven, seven, seven...it's everywhere."

"It's amazing she's still alive, did you tag her?"

"Tagged every known living member of her family. Funny thing though; when we scanned her house for wiring; someone was already there."

"Oh; really."

"Yeah, a bunch of perverts from her church had wired the house for some porn scheme. We piggybacked the signal and they seem to be a tentacle of a much larger octopus. With some indications that they are going to sell her to some foreign entity. It's interesting to watch."

"So are you putting someone in with her?"

"We've been trying; she ignores everyone and the one guy that got close enough; she told him she was celibate. She's got a thing for some FED and she just won't let anyone else close to her."

"So, are we going to put them together?"

"Oh hell no. Can you imagine them screaming about civil rights issues, human experimentation the list would be long. No, those two will never be together."

With a laugh; "standard Russian spy scenario?"

"Yup, that should keep him away. She is ours."

Tagged
Travelling a lonely country road in a remote county something slammed me in the chest as I was driving. My first thought was that I had been shot, as all my breath had been knocked out of my chest. I slammed on the brakes and literally fell out of the truck, gasping for breath and clutching my chest. Another car slowly winding around from the opposite direction stopped. Puffing on a cigarette a young man leaned out of the car window. "Are you alright?"

Instead of concern this man seemed amused. His emotions were all wrong for the situation. I was on the brink of blacking out as he approached. Then suddenly I could breathe and the world came back into focus. The man was standing next to me; smiling. "What happened to you?"

"I am not sure, something came through the window and hit me in the chest." There was a small nickel sized red spot with a small cut that was bleeding. The man looked at my chest and then looked into the truck. Through the open door he pointed to a honey bee curled up and dead on the floor boards.

"I think a bee flew through the window and just knocked the breath out you." My gaze followed his hand and I still found it hard to believe. I was feeling better and able to drive, thanked the man and drove to my destination. The red mark turned to a dark bruise by the next day and I quickly put it out of my mind.

to be continued...

If you want to know more about this....buy our dvd http://www.conspiracycafe.us/shop.html

Breakfast Blend


Lola Pt4 Ericca Cordier http://www.conspiracycafe.us © 2009 ConspiracyCafe.us Ericca Cordier. All Rights Reserved. The characters in this piece are not real people, but are based and written as composite images of several people that I have met over the years. The names and places are not real either and are written they same way. If you think you have encountered a victim of human trafficking, call the National Human Trafficking Resource Center, 1-888-373-7888, open 24 hours a day/7 days a week. In cases of emergency, call 911...for more information click this link to State.gov and help stop the sex trade. A World Away In a dark room on an old metal desk sat a solitary telephone. A single light illuminated the windowless room and a very large aging man sat hunched over the desk. A small framed picture of President Bush sat on one corner and other than some utilitarian items there was nothing else. The phone rang three times and the man answered in a gravelly Russian voice. "How many made it in? Seven you say...good." With that he hung the phone up on the cradle. Reached into a drawer and pulled out a bottle of vodka and a glass. He poured himself a shot and swallowed it; then with one sweep of his arm he threw the glass and the framed picture of President Bush on the floor. Laughing as it all shattered into a thousand pieces. He continued his bellowing laughter as he left the room. There on the floor amidst the broken glass was a single drop of blood. A metal splinter on the frame had scratched his hand unbeknown st to him. Somewhere a million miles away the two men that had left the club closed a laptop on the trunk of a car at the top of a parking garage. They were laughing too. "So how long;" one said to the other. "A matter of minutes until he's dead." It had taken them several years to get that framed picture into that office and several more for the events of the day to unfold. It was worth it to them. "So how much does this psychic girl really know?" "Consciously; not that much..but subconsciously she knows everything." "How is that?" "She is so telepathic that as a defense mechanism against mental noise she accepts most of her input into her subconscious as her conscious mind cannot handle the amount of information she takes in. When you talk to her; it's as if she knows things that she doesn't have clearance to possibly know just simply because her subconcious overflows into her concious mind as she speaks. She does'nt really comprehend what she is saying but her subconcious does." "So why are we talking to her at all?" "The docs say one day; she may be able to lower the walls as she accepts what is going on around her; allowing the subconcious to share more information to her concious side. I want to be there when it happens; she will be one helluva an asset to have. But for now we talk to her subconcious and try to acclimate her concious side." "How did you do that?" "Did you see her new shoes?" "What did you say to her?" "Just a general 'who'?" "Was there a response?" "Yep, seven turns to the grocery store, seven cups of coffee, seven, seven, seven...it's everywhere." "It's amazing she's still alive, did you tag her?" "Tagged every known living member of her family. Funny thing though; when we scanned her house for wiring; someone was already there." "Oh; really." "Yeah, a bunch of perverts from her church had wired the house for some porn scheme. We piggybacked the signal and they seem to be a tentacle of a much larger octopus. With some indications that they are going to sell her to some foreign entity. It's interesting to watch." "So are you putting someone in with her?" "We've been trying; she ignores everyone and the one guy that got close enough; she told him she was celibate. She's got a thing for some FED and she just won't let anyone else close to her." "So, are we going to put them together?" "Oh hell no. Can you imagine them screaming about civil rights issues, human experimentation the list would be long. No, those two will never be together." With a laugh; "standard Russian spy scenario?" "Yup, that should keep him away. She is ours." Tagged Travelling a lonely country road in a remote county something slammed me in the chest as I was driving. My first thought was that I had been shot, as all my breath had been knocked out of my chest. I slammed on the brakes and literally fell out of the truck, gasping for breath and clutching my chest. Another car slowly winding around from the opposite direction stopped. Puffing on a cigarette a young man leaned out of the car window. "Are you alright?" Instead of concern this man seemed amused. His emotions were all wrong for the situation. I was on the brink of blacking out as he approached. Then suddenly I could breathe and the world came back into focus. The man was standing next to me; smiling. "What happened to you?" "I am not sure, something came through the window and hit me in the chest." There was a small nickel sized red spot with a small cut that was bleeding. The man looked at my chest and then looked into the truck. Through the open door he pointed to a honey bee curled up and dead on the floor boards. "I think a bee flew through the window and just knocked the breath out you." My gaze followed his hand and I still found it hard to believe. I was feeling better and able to drive, thanked the man and drove to my destination. The red mark turned to a dark bruise by the next day and I quickly put it out of my mind. to be continued... If you want to know more about this....buy our dvd http://www.conspiracycafe.us/shop.html









http://www.conspiracycafe.us © 2009 ConspiracyCafe.us Ericca Cordier. All Rights Reserved.