| HENRI MONTEGUT CHRIS BLACK JESSIE CLEARY DANNY MESEN VICKI NESTOR KAYCE MONTEGUT |
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COLOR WORK BLACK AND GRAY WORK |
Moments prior to conception Adam staggered into the General's headquarters. Blind from dauntless months of drinking, completely unaware of what he was about to undertake, he barreled through the tent flap. He used a stack of nearby bedpans to mount the table at the center of the map room and declared to an audience of stunned superiors, "I am the third Thursday." Then he collapsed.
When he awoke, certain of foul play, Adam grasped about for his pistol. Where are they keeping me? Have I been captured? What has become of General Zaragoza? His brain, limbs, and tendrils all seemed to be darting about uncontrollably when he heard his captors enter.
"The labor lasted four hours."
"It felt longer."
By the ripe age of two, Adam was fully aware of the permanence of his newfound imprisonment. The story of his capture, however, was becoming more transparent with each passing day. He could feel his grip on the sequence of events loosening. Had I taken charge of the Battle, sensing Ignacio's uncertainty? What had become of the troops? Where is my horse?
By six Adam had fallen back into a rhythm of heavy drinking and tempestuous planning. It was at this time that he feverishly sketched the series of imaginary battle strategies into bar napkins- a monumental text destined to become the canon of future warfare.
After ten years of life in captivity, Adam had grown increasingly withdrawn. As to not waste his reserve of energy on trivialities, he actively imposed a governing limit on all sensory intake. He spent his days sleeping and his nights at the drafting table. His focus had become solely fixed on devising an equation to graph the point of intersection between time and space. Once discovered, as he was wont to proclaim, he intended to blow it up. With a bomb.
Twenty-four years. Thirty-two teeth. One band-aid.
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EDUCATION:
2005 |
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