Drinkslinger trying to become a wordslinger.
The Dread Pirate Redbeard
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Then again, the shackled captain thought, as he scanned the room, people’s last thoughts were seldom heard. The courtroom stood bare. Walls the cold grey steel only found in Federalé ships. If a tree falls in the woods, does it make a sound? The judge was a brick of a man. The jury, not a single one would he call a peer. If the airlock I be damned, the airlock I be damned.
Joshua Campbell: The Man, The Myth, The Legend
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. The open air of a town-car was a different story. The solid black paint did little to muffle the sounds of a scream. Much less to muffle the voices on it’s radio, tuned straight to the back passenger, Joshua Campbell.
Tales from the Wastes
It’s just your imagination Susan… It’s just your imagination. “Hello?” Nothing. “Is there anybody there?” Still nothing. “I can hear you!” She found herself screaming into the night. “This isn’t funny!” Susan’s cries remained unanswered, perhaps even unheard. Maybe it was all just her imagination after all. This was the night for an imagination to run rampant, if ever there was one.
Scavenging had become a lost art. The dead had so much they didn't need. Before the new dawn, life had been so comfortable that people bought the latest and greatest in trivialities and home decor instead of the basics of life. Survival had gone to the back burner on the newest top of the line industrial stove. But the dead didn't have mouths to feed. Their homes had been stripped for parts. Nowadays you didn't find much but brick and bone. All stripped away, but a good scavenger could always find gold in a pile of dirt.