Rhino

A Flash of Fiction #1
Reports are coming out from museums, some small and some large, of the theft of rhinoceros horns. You see the horns are being mashed up and sold on the black market. You see some believe, primarily in the East, that ground up rhino horns can be used for medicinal purposes as an aphrodisiac and in some cases a cure for cancer and other diseases. You see, don't you, that this is a great travesty and could only be worsened if rhino horns were replaced with something even more rare and apt to be ground to a fine powder and used as a cure-all. What if it were antique pottery found amongst the ruins at Pompeii?
Levi Surfdom, a detective from the Arts and Antiques unit in Cromwall, is urging museums to remove any advertising on websites and other publications of rhino's housed in museums. The remaining antiquated rhinoceros horns are to be closely guarded, behind a glass cage, with motion and laser sensors. Upon reading this a one-time criminal mind starts plotting the largest simultaneous museum heist for rhinoceros horns ever attempted in the world.

Journal and Notes

Monday 10-25-10 Notes

"But there is madness in everything. I am really confused these days. The realization that I must discover my own will and exert it seems brutal and unfair and unsympathetic and somehow uninteresting."
-Kerouac journal Friday January,30, 1947

The Wales Diary (a lost page)

Ferry is named Stena Caledonia(Castle w/ tall white walls)

There were twelve blue benches in the room and the smell of day old paint was in the air. It was between the hours of 01:00 and 02:00, and I sat on one of those benches up against an off-white brick wall. At the top of the wall the bricks went from horizontal to vertical, and above that fake plants sat in a mixture of dirt and wood chips. Every now and then an automatic door would slide open and the rush of the train's engine idling echoed into the room.
She wore a purple scarf and a pink coat. A cigarette rested between two of her fingers as she paced every corner of that room like a caged ferret let loose.
I look up and smiled as she passed me. It made me feel good. To smile and mean it. I always think that people can tell when my smile is fake, like when people know you're on the verge of crying as you fight to steady your lower lips and attempt to dry the wells in your eyes.
Opposite the train and beyond me and the fake plants, floated the ferry that would carry me across the sea to another shore. The ferry was white and looked like a house from the future that you see around these days. There was a large blocked upside L with horizontal and vertical lines that stretched out to what looked like an above ground pool.
She was sitting across from me on the only bench yet to be painted. I've always wanted to scream at someone "What are you looking at?" and at this moment I almost did, except I knew she was looking at the elephant ears arching over me. She was flicking her foot that crossed over her knee at a fast pace and she was now smacking on some gum. Her black suit-case looked worn and leaned slightly to the left.
"It's just an old fashioned Monday," she said. I looked up from the blue and realized she had directed the comment to me.
"Is it Monday?"
"No, I guess it's not" she said. She lowered