| The secret roads of Narnia Joe Juliano was in a submarine to Narnia. He was with his nephew Nick Juliano. They belived in a road from New York to California. They found a map which inspired them even more. Joe had a web page on Yahoo which was about this lost path under the contident. The lost roads were covered by water and a cave which was made by aliens. Anyways, Joe lived in Deadbank, New Jersey and nick lives in e. hartford,ct.joe and nick were ordinary people and had a ordinary family.the year was 2058 and the submarine was really high-tech.so the adventure is off.down deep in the atlantic ocean.so the adventure is off.down deep in the atlantic ocean.beyond depths that have not been reached,more then ,5000 km down.their submarine was not just any old sub,it had a drill to dig as deep as joe and myself wanted.this submarine was made by,only for us.7000 km down and now they just have to dig sort of at a north-west position.we went up a km,like the map,said joe.now strait through for 1 mile.the drill is working outstanding,leading to going even faster,faster,about 50 mph''nick.boom we hit a hit a giant stone.we have to go around it''said joe.''i''turned the controls hard enough to miss the rock''nick said.joe said good thinking,woosh we missed it.the temperture was rising to about 100 degres,but it didn't bother joe or nick because the submarine had air conditioning.yes i knew it.i was right all along,joe said.we hit the road.good thing i installed the wheels''nick said.the lost roads of narnia were found and the wierd thing was it was exactly how we imaged it.people were there captured by the aliens.these people were really smart because they took rocks and water and plants and sea life then they made suits that looked really good,they were like super hero.they could run 500 m.p.h.they stayed surviving for over 3,000years.joe and nick really liked this place.they made a toll in the beggining of this road and a tunnel to get in and out of there.no more water so they told people all over the world and became multi-zillionaires the end by;nicholas juliano ideas from;joe juliano free lance the night away, open spaces and naria a sound as the joy of a seanson aproches and new is the blue to horzion.racing towards that magial day.they people and there counter parts are reving the motors of giving and ,hey more even still till our hearts burst with emotion.talk is cheap,its a day visual in content and as we drape each other in clothes and jewerly and plentifull is the word we eat.can it be happness in final exployion of togetherness in long dranout fraces and words of delight full intent.chrismass let it be going and going and not gone for one day.pushing forward and beyond to a new year,2003.so good and happy.in my book the writer is to cloud nine what being high is to life. the keys click and the computer humes for long time the words flow like hot lava from itailian vesuves.his body is safe from all and being tall is to smell the clouds once and for all.chrisma is the fatuge from writing and all is the smell of the typewriter ink.ted williams frozen by missguided family says smell the wood on foul off.yet its the ink,inhaled thorght nosials and exhaled in now a nourest life force.we are all sticks in a stack of gravitialal pull and fixed up on a good day we decoracte and clean and polish ourselfs on carpets of emotional pull.for a writer there are periods where word are far away and the time is dwindwing in the blackhole of mind infested choices.what we do in line and with others,staring at the instrument to write macks the writers day,mounth,year,like a bird chripping he is happy and full.finnally the hands grow wearier and mind like a spent parking meter.december24,2002,and the writer is snug as a bug and the body is healed and as humans they now say that dreams are the manin,replacing breead as the fingers toil and in light in breath.as eight in years and the paper is picked up the bird hits and the boy lookes at the printed word and the rest goes in search of the perfect adjective or verb.kara is young and delious and fast like the sprinted deer and she goes like foward and bright and as 18.many years ahead and thanks as the writer is hands free.we help each other and you go girl.tara at the 7-11,manger and all you tell everone,do this my head is mended and the nose is the smell of your sucess is all emcossing.december29,2002,and we are off.this morning the writer remembers the wheat fields and tender land across the garden state.running and the ground,soft for farming.in the store a child pulls the hair and is beat,now in modern and up to date the sun over the church steeple,happness as those inside same and solve all for us on earth.new book,sun and solve.the women are tough and they live the ripe to old age.new chemical conpounds and stong to all.blue electrical light and the halo of pastures of hot whips.let us have everthing in perfect line.squacking and quiet down. |