Author Topic: dear daughter  (Read 675 times)

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Offline zeker

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dear daughter
« on: November 11, 2015, 08:16:57 PM »
Letter From Camp   Dear Daughter.

I hope this letter makes it to you. I am not sure if they deliver mail to Belize anymore.

As camps go in 2050 it isnít bad, if you are 17, as a 87 year old with a bad hip and iffy back it is hell. Your dear Mother didnít lasted long with the dodgy heat and poor food, her lungs just couldnít take it after four bouts with pneumonia. Now it is just me. I long for our mountain retreat where we were supposed to have spent our last years. The damn Jizya tax just ate away our savings until finally they showed up and said we no longer could live there and turned us out. We had a choice, move out, die or pay the Jizya. We moved out to one of the camps. At one time it had been a FEMA camp now it is camp for those waiting to die.

How had we let it happen? Frog syndrome mostly. A small change here, a small change there. Sharia law in Detroit, ok, who wants Detroit anyway? Islamic law in L.A., serves the liberals right. You were right to leave. But then it was in every large, then every small town. An openly faithful president, then two, then extension of term limits, then a Czar to oversee conversion. They knocked on the door with troopers dressed in black burkas and took my guns, how does a 70 year old fight armed troopers? Then it was the tax, pay or leave they said. We paid the Jizya and were Zimmis until we couldnít.

I didnít realize how much I would miss the old Church services until we couldnít pray, preach or sing out loud. Seems their faith is so weak they are afraid to even let their faithful hear Christian worship. Their enforcers werenít weak when they beheaded Reverend Jones for defying them. We couldnít get a replacement preacher after that. Our neighbors converted, but then old Joe got riled over some of the stuff about how women were to be treated and recanted, three days later it was off with his head, he was stubborn. I stopped counting the stonings after the Wilson girl. You remember her? The pretty one that liked the Johnson boy.

I guess we were lucky to keep the place until we ran out of money, The Kirks had a faithful claim that their land was his because of a debt, it wasnít but since Zimmis arenít allowed to testify against faithfuls, well, you can see where that went.

Now we must wear the golden cross, if we are Christian or the Golden Star if Jewish. Those that can work are bussed out each day, fewer and fewer return. Seems it isnít a sin to kill a non-faithful, non-Zimmis, we are so much chattel. I am getting that deep cough like your dear mother Suzie had, the camp cough they call it, CC for short. Theyíll move me to the hospital soon. Hospital, right, no heat, they leave the windows open at night to help us. Iíll be with your momma soon.

Love Daddy,

of all the things I,ve lost.. I miss my mind, the most