Dearest gods, but I have a twisted imagination...

[elfs]

Well, the spacebar is reliable enough that in the course of the last hour I've written over 800 words without having a problem with it. The scary thing is, I'm not writing in any of my usual stories. No, this is something so sick and perverse I can't even begin to imagine it. To give you an idea of where I'm going (see if you can pick up the idea) the working titles I have are: Orgy In August, Sodomy in September, Nymphs in November, and I haven't worked out what the Christmas special should be, but I have some ideas already.

I hope I can just ignore this one and go back to writing the Journal Entries. But I bet it'll haunt me for the next couple of days.

"Were they ever fun, John?" John looked up. "We nearly died, time and time again. Remember the river in Japan, or that pyramid in Egypt? People tried to kill us, animals tried to eat us, and I still have nightmares about what would have happened if anything had gone wrong while we were on the Moon."

John said, "But they were exciting! And we learned so much." He tapped the notebook he still carried in the pocket of his vest. "What we learned set the course for our futures, Ann." John had been accepted to the University of Michigan in his chosen major, archaeology. Ann was planning on an Art History degree when she applied next year. "Come on, Ann. You know you want to do it."

If you do guess, please don't name the series here. This isn't something that should show up in a search engine!