It’s been over five years, since old Willie Odemann’s farm underwent development, but the crows keep coming--hoping the corn will come back, I think. When I was trying to take a shortcut a few weeks back, I saw some strawberries growing wild alongside that sixty-some apartment complex where mostly corn used to grow. But you can’t really take shortcuts no more. Everyone’s has to fence their little piece of land these days. Stingy folks really. Unless you can jump and climb like a kid, you can’t take shortcuts no more. At my age, you got to go around the fences. Truth be told, I know darn well that I could make better time going the way they want me to go. It’s the principle. Don’t like being told where I can go any more than I did when I was younger. Eight or eighty, it don’t matter. Once you are a rebel, you will always be a rebel. You just might look ridiculous sometimes, when you are my age and standing up for your principles. Like strawberries. Strawberries grow like weeds. They don’t care if apartment complexes try to get in their way. So, I’m thinking, that is why Willie Odemann’s strawberries keep on growing long after he is dead and buried. I learned about these rebel strawberries, taking my soda pop cans to the can-crusher. Yup; there isn’t a lot of money in pop cans anymore, and mechanic can-crushers are going extinct--but it’s the principle. I do my best to keep Mother Earth tidy and make an honest penny whenever possible. Some of these crows were larger, uglier, and more aggressive than in previous years. I noted that they seemed at home in the flock but could turn on their smaller brethren in the blink of an eye, resorting to cannibalism. I had been studying the birds, since tulip time. At the end of June, I found a little brownish kid, his homely little dog and a gaggle of crows, including four giant red-faced ones, eating strawberries that were pushing cowlick-straight between the sidewalk cracks. Then, I saw berries growing everywhere. Next day, I set out to pick a pail for myself. Had my heart set on some strawberry-rhubarb pie. What a great deal, I thought, having rhubarb and now some strawberries too. But--dab burn it! --if there wasn’t a single scrap left. I never suspected the crows. Not right away. Crows just ain’t happy without corn. I wish I had a big backyard. I’d grow some corn. I wouldn’t take pot shots with Daddy’s old BB-gun neither, when the crow came calling. I’d say, “I know what it is like to get the short end of the stick; I know what it is like to have the rug pulled out from under you. Eat up, Crows!” I love all God’s creatures, but Odemann’s crows are cantankerous creatures--smart and mean too. Bigger than most. Mutants, I suspect. A striking difference from those outside the Valley. Like any self-educated person, I get teased by people who think that I spend too much time on my subjects. That is where being a rebel helps. You get used to people thinking that you’re up to nonsense. Best thing is you don’t care very much. A self-taught mad scientist that is what I am! When I was a girl, I dabbled in everything from making ant poison soup to shaking a jar of bees to see how mad they could get. Like a lot of people back then, I didn’t think animals knew pain or had emotions--like revenge. I tried to catch a crow specimen to send down to Madison. That is what people do, when they find some freak of nature. I don’t care if it is an ugly caterpillar or a two-headed toad, people will advise you to send it down to the state lab for identification. Then I found out it costs money. Maybe this time I will charge them! I do have some background with crows. I remember Willie Odemann’s grandson Manny took a baby crow under his people-wing one year. Taught it all kinds of tricks, but I knew they were more mannerisms. Natural tendencies. Blackbeard the Crow would steal things out of men’s pockets and ladies’ purses. It could bark like and a dog and say “hello” in Manny’s voice. Too bad Blackbeard’s dog bark didn’t scare the barn cat that struck ’im down in his prime. I know crows are omnivores, but I never saw them hunting rabbits and squirrels until now. When I saw the migrant boy again, he was alone kicking a soccer ball around that place where the strawberries had grown. Speaking slowly and implementing rudimentary sign language, I asked him if the apartment people ate up all the fruit. “Crows--they ate the berries! And,” he started to sob, “Charley, too! The big ones. The Kings took my dog,” young Luis wailed, strangling the air with clenched fists. “Oh, Charley! Nobody believes me.” “I believe you,” I tried to console him, but I could tell that if only one person in the world believed him, he wondered why did it have to be the strange old pop-can lady? “Like a flock of bullies, those crows,” I told him. “Mad about their cornfield disappearing. Corn was kinda their God. The center of their world. When they saw that the land isn’t being planted, they got mighty ornery. “Put yourself in a crow’s place. People can go to the store to get corn any ole time. Get it on the cob, in a can, in a freezer package. We take it for granted that we can eat corn 365-days a year. Three times a day, if we wanted to. Not crows. These mutant crows ain’t afraid to get even.” The boy, Luis, had stopped crying. I was throwing a lot of words at him, and it seemed like he understood. I imagined the puzzled look on his little dog, as the hunter became the hunted. I think Charley may have been just as surprised as Blackbeard the Crow was when his bark didn’t scare the barn cat many years ago. It isn’t right for crows to be eating little boys’ dogs. I promised Luis that I would do what I could to put an end to their carnage. I tried to warn folks. The five o’clock news had recently reported that a kid on garbage detail at the Burger Boy was badgered by a flock of crows. Around July 4 th , the fireworks and commotion sent them into a lull of inactivity for nearly seven days. A welcomed reprieve for those of us who knew about them. I never finished high school. I married and started a family, when Earl got back from the War. But I have always read a lot and did my best to know about world affairs. I, particularly, enjoy nature, and I have been keeping notes on these mutant crows--Odemann’s Urbana Corvus. That’s what I named ’em. Luis and I plotted to trap a live specimen, but we had to be selective. We needed to zero in on what we dubbed the King Crows. The ones that we knew had taken Charley. Soon after our plans were drawn, a respectable man of science conveniently came to town. Ornithologist Dr. Jefferson Early from the state university was here to advise city government about a mysterious die-off of Canada geese on our part of Lake Winnebago. My nephew Russell drives me once a week to get groceries or sometimes more--if there is a funeral or a special research fieldtrip. Good thing for me that Russell still isn’t married, because I don’t know what his wife would say to this. Russell is a dentist. He just hasn’t found the right teeth-cleaning girl to settle down with. I told him there is no rush. I had two husbands. They’re both dead already. So, because he is so nice and because he has his own business, Russell agreed to make an extra trip to take me down to city hall to see the bird man. I had not told him about the bird man, but Russell snickered a little when he saw my knapsack overflowing with my field notebooks, camera and binoculars. I promised to take a taxicab home this time. He seemed to believe it, but I would never waste my money on a highway-robber. I would worry about getting home later. Betty, the city government desk clerk, told me that the mayor was at the Senior Citizen Center for breakfast. “Helen,” she added, “have you tried the Center?” She knew the darn answer. “You should give it a try? They do lots of fun things there.” I bit my tongue. I always thought that Russell and Betty might make a good couple. But line dancing, chatty luncheons and rummage sales weren’t my thing. “I’m here to see Dr. Jefferson Early,” I told her. “I believe he’s at Grant Park,” she said, checking her desk calendar. “Dab burn it! Russell’s gone. He just dropped me off. Did you see, he has a convertible now?” “Really?” Betty sighed. “Yeah, a topless car. Messed my hair. Don’t you just hate riding in topless cars?” “I would love it,” said the thirty-something divorcee. “It would be fun.” “If you really think so,” I winked, “I could ask Russell to take you for a ride.” “Oh, I don’t think he’d take a stranger.” “You’re no stranger,” I said. “If I’m not talking to you about Russell, I am talking to Russell about you. “Betty blushed. “You know I think that you two would make a nice couple. You probably admire a man who takes care of his kin. But right now, I need to get to Grant Park because I don’t have a ride.” “One of the park-and-rec guys can take you,” she offered, flagging one down. Pete was never happy about acting as my personal chauffeur. Truth be told, he isn’t my first choice, but beggars can’t be choosers. He asked me if I was still chasing crows. I didn’t appreciate his sarcasm. At the park, Pete barely came to a stop. He mumbled that he had more important things to do. “That’s Early over there,” he said, stabbing the air with his finger. “The tall, skinny man with the health department guys.” Pete cleared his throat, waiting for me to gather myself and my things but didn’t bother to help expedite the process. I thanked him and thought about making him some special laxative-laced brownies for his trouble. “Doctor Early,” I called to him. He was a skinny man with a boyish face. “With whom do I have the pleasure?” “Helen Leavens Hochholzer.” I could see that it was a lot for him to digest, so I added, “You may call me Helen.” “Helen,” he nodded. “How can I help you?” “Hi. Rick! Hi, James! ” I waved to the health department men. “Doctor Early, I know that you are here to study the Canadian geese--“ “Canada,” he corrected me. “Canada geese. Most people call them Canadian, but that is not correct,” he softened the blow. “Canada geese,” I submitted, oddly in wonder that I was in the majority for once. “This kill happens every now and again,” I offered. “It’s the dandelion poison. Every now and again the summer help doesn’t read the directions right, and our city, accidentally, thins the flocks. I told the city hall folks about it. I wrote the editor. I even wrote you people in Madison. “ “Really?” Jefferson Early raised his brow. “What’s even more interesting,” I advised, “is the crows here.” “Crows?” exclaimed Early, the furrows in his brow suddenly aging his face. “We grow ‘em big here, sir. Big as turkeys--they could feed a family of four! Mutants. Maybe they’ve been eating fish by the nuclear plant. I don’t know for sure yet,” I said, retrieving my red stenography pad. ” I’ve been keeping a journal. I have some feathers comparisons. These are the ones belonging to the largest of the Odemann Urbana Corvus--this new sub-species.” I thrust forward the drawing that I had made in the field. “These birds have lips and a beak?” Somehow, I had missed this embarrassing drawing mistake. “Purplish crown, yellow eyes--lacking pupils? According to this measurement scale, they are nearly two feet tall?” “That part is right. Forget the smile and the eyes with no pupils. Look I’m no artist, but the yellow eyes and the size is true to life.” I fumbled through the pad. My gnarly left hand was in a hinderance, and the Walgreens photographs fluttered to the ground. The scholar quickly retrieved them, scanning them with his eyes as he stood. “These are ravens,” he uttered. “No, sir. I thought that at first too. Look at the beak, the neck, the tail! All of these are characteristics of the Common Corvus. Not a large Corvid or a giant Turdus Merula?” He seemed impressed, looking closely at the photographs. He examined the plums inside a clear plastic freezer bag. “Some of these feathers interest me,” he acknowledged. “Perhaps if you give me your name and number...” “Please, Doctor!” I directed to him to a picture of one of the King Crows. His jaw dropped. “Put the Canada Geese and the dandelion poison to bed, and I will share my find with you. We will march to Madison. We need to squelch their numbers while we can.” I could feel my hot-headed German ancestry coming to the forefront. “These crows are wicked, dog-eaters! “Dr. Early,” I insisted, “these birds are killing family pets as we speak. Please, I can take you to them. You can see for yourself.” “Helen--you have found something extraordinary. These definitely are not ravens,” he nodded his head, and directed the health department people to drive us to what remained of the Odemann homestead just north of the city limits. This was extremely convenient, because my home was in one of the four units that comprised Willie Odemann’s farmhouse. Near remnants of an old apple orchard, we happened upon the scene of Luis with his new friends, from the apartment complex, throwing sticks and stones at the birds. Luis was sitting on a squawking cardboard box. “These aren’t ravens,” Dr. Early said in a soft, far-off voice. “Exactly!” I agreed. “They’re not common crows.” “Precisely!” “These are black Caracaras!” he shouted with glee. “Remarkable!” It was a case of gross misidentification, and I was a little embarrassed. I had not considered comparing the King Crows to the Black Caracaras of northern South America. Turns out, Luis and I had found four of six glossy black falcon birds that had unceremoniously escaped from the Milwaukee Zoo. It was pandemonium and publicity, securing our birds. The other two were never reported found, and surely would not survive a Wisconsin winter. While I did not find a new mutant sub-species of crow, Luis and I made the front pages of many national newspapers. We even were flown to the Big Apple to guest star on early morning and late-night TV shows. When the story had run its course, the thrill of the experience lived on in both Luis and me. The next spring, fewer crows came back to roost in what was left of an outbuilding that stood in ruins on the remaining Odemann acreage marked for development. Like us, the Corvus diehards likely remembered the excitement of the King Crows.


If you are reading this, then hello. If you aren’t already in a safe area, get to one. I’m pretty sure the world is safe if you are reading this, so try and bring this journal to a government facility or something. But if it isn’t, keep this journal safe at all costs. I’m going to try and write as much of what happened with me as I can. February 5th, Friday, 7:43AM I was walking with my two friends, Jack and Ronin, on the way to school. Friday, I thought, hoping I could get through school for today and be out for a two week break. We were talking about random stuff, I couldn’t remember. One thing I do remember, and it still haunts me on how it happened. “What would y’all do in an alien invasion?”, asked Ronin. “Uh, probably get dual wield katanas!”, Jack said. “I would try to get a-”, I get cut off as a cylinder shaped tube, kind of like a Cyro-Tube from that game Halo, crashed into the street. Right as it happened, miraculously the Military showed up, and started shouting orders for people to get back inside. The tube started to open up, and when finished launched out this thing, reminding me of a Facehugger from the movie Aliens. It got near a group of people filming with their phones, and exploded. They immediately fell to the ground, and started to spasm and convulse. It was disgusting, but I didn’t get to see the aftermath. My friends and I booked it to my house, along the way with Ronin saying, “Talk about perfect timing am I right?” We make it to my house, quickly lock the doors and windows, and run to my room. My parents are at work, so it was just us three. We heard screams of agony, pain, and fear. We soon heard a knock at the door, saying it was Military Personal. They take us to a bunker, with many others. We get there, and get a room, with two bunk-beds, meaning someone else would be in here with us. It was a guy at our school, Tommy. I knew him, but didn’t talk much to him. We eventually fell asleep, hoping it was a bad dream. But it only became a nightmare. February 6th, Saturday, 9:28AM I wake up, and realize I am sore all over. I go ahead and get up, and wake my friend up, Tommy already gone. We head to the cafeteria, having oatmeal and a piece of toast, along with either water or orange juice. Wasn’t bad, but wasn’t the best either. I got to meet a group of special military forces called Spartans. They were called Fireteam Sabre, made up of Spartan Kenshi, the leader and swordsman of the fireteam, Spartan Ridge, the sniper and second in command, and finally Spartan Specter, the Tech Specialist. They head out, with other military forces, to try and rescue others. They do come back, with only a few survivors, including my parents. A few military were killed while rescuing. We went through the rest of the day, and went to sleep for the night. March 11th, Thursday, 3:47PM Remember how I said it would soon become a nightmare? That is exactly what happened, except it was real. I was just hanging out, talking with my friends in the room, since there wasn’t much else to do. Suddenly, an alarm starts going off, someone gets on the speaker saying for us to get to the hangar to evacuate, that we have been breached. It was chaos, so I told my friends and Tommy to follow me. I go to my parents, and we make our way to the hangar. As we were making our way, this mutant thing, which I assumed was once a human, had led a couple of other mutants and breached the bunker. How you may ask? How would I know? We got to the hangar, passing by dead mutants and survivors. We eventually make it to the hangar, and quickly get into an armored truck, with others inside. I look out a small barred window, and see a few more survivors get killed. They almost made it, but the Mutants had other plans.... I later had my assumptions confirmed. The Mutants were indeed other people. Apparently a cure is in the works of being made, and hopefully this cure will solve our problem. March 12th, Friday, 1:51PM We had come across an old village, and decided to check for supplies. Apparently, these Mutants are still smart enough to plan ambushes. Spartan Specter had gotten attacked by three Mutants, and killed one, but got overrun. Before he turned into one of them, he killed himself. He was able to give Spartan Kenshi his Tech, having a bad feeling. Guess he was right.. March 14th, Monday, 4:23AM We had finally made it to the bunker, this time will loads more people and protection. A few other survivors were found, and others died. At the new bunker, Head Scientist for the Cure, Dr. John, and his associates, Dr. Halsey and Dr. Cutter. They were close on a cure, and would release it after some testing. I had hoped those tests would be quick, and they were quick, but not in the intended way. May 11th, Tuesday, 2:55PM Those tests with the Cure had led to even more mutations, causing a short lockdown. A few unlucky survivors were killed in the rampage, but the Mutant was locked down again, this time with much more security for further tests. June 27th, Sunday, 6:34AM I was awoken to Tommy. Apparently, he got word the Cure was ready to release. I woke up fully at that, and was happy. The estimated time for the Cure to fully cure the entire world would be around 1-2 years. I got a little disappointed at hearing that, but was hopeful. I am going to also give this journal to Dr. Halsey for safe-keeping. I am hoping the Cure has worked. Anyways, this is the last time I’ll use this, so goodbye.


It was a warm and sunny day, I was sitting on the porch swing with Jane. Jane was talking about her new cookie exchange, and how her parents were on a five day trip to Toledo. I had no idea what was coming next. We walked to school together. It was a normal day, we went to math, science, women’s studies, then lunch. After school I went to Jane's house to make the cookies. “Why is the cookie dough red?” I said. I had a hint of suspicion in my voice. “We make this friendship work by trusting each other, don’t question me.” Jane said, with annoyance creeping up on her. “Ok, ok” I said. I could not have known about the the sleeping drugs in the cookies, or what Jane really planning. We set the cookie sheet in the oven at 350° for 20 minutes. Then we play scrabble, it’s my favorite game. After we finish our fourth game I walk to the door. Jane stops me at the door. Before I can tell her to move, an evil smile crosses her face, she looks right in my eyes. “Bye, bye Betty.” Jane says wickedly. Next thing I know everything is black. I wake up in Jane’s crawl space. How did I get here? “Hello Betty” I hear Jane say on the other side of the wall. “Why are you doing this to me?” I say “Because Betty, you were on to me” Jane sighs, “me and my cookie operation.” “What operation?” I ask, “Is this a joke? Let me out!” I yell at the wall. “Sorry Betty, I can’t do that.” Jane says. Then she stops talking. White gas fills the room, and I black out. About a day later I wake with a start. I see my teacher in the crawlspace with me, her name is Ms. Ashton. “Why are you here?” I say sleepily. “Jane wanted to get a project approved, and she invited me over for cookies” Ms. Ashton says, “next thing I know I’m tied up here with you.” “When did she capture you?“ I ask “On the 20th.” Ms. Ashton replies. “Ok, grab the knife in my back pocket, I don’t think she took that” I say. “Alright. Wait, why did you have a knife on school property?” Ms. Ashton says. “That’s beside the point, just do it!’’ I snap. “Fine. But after we get out of here I’m going to have a chat with your parents” Ms. Ashton says. She pulls the knife out, and cuts the rope that ties us both to the wall. “Ok, on the count of 3, we run like hell, 1,2,3 go go go!”I say. Me and Ms. Ashton run out of Jane’s crawl space. We sprint down her stairs, and into Jane's living room. We see other people! “Alice, Susan and Cheryl what are you all doing here!” I yell. “We’re here for the cookie exchange” Alice says. “What is Ms. Ashton doing here?” Asks Cheryl. “Ok, so Jane is trying to kill me to put me into cookies!” I say “What?!” Cheryl, Alice, and Susan say in unison. “Ladies, Betty is clearly having a mental breakdown, let’s just eat” Jane says. “Now that I think about it, the cookie dough was red, so Jane, you’re a serial killer!” Cheryl says. Jane picks up a knife and lunges toward me. I run at her, Jane throws the knife at me. It touches my cheek. I use my whole body to tackle her. We both fall to the ground, and I fight to get my pocket knife. Jane gets it and stabs me in the stomach. Blood is everywhere. I take off my boot, and hit her in the head. Then I bite her in the hand. The knife drops and I grab it, and slit her throat. Susan runs over checks her pulse “She’s going to die, her pulse is week” says Susan with a whimper. “Jane, Mr. Schneider mysteriously disappeared from the school, did you kill him?” I ask. “Yes” says Jane with a week breath. “Why?” I say. “I was killed him because you hated him, same with Ms. Ashton. I love you Betty.” says Jane. “Then why were you going to kill me?” I say. “Have you ever herd the story of Romeo and Juliet, Betty?” She asks, “It’s about two people consumed by love, so much they commit suicide to be together forever” Jane says. “So you were going to kill me then yourself?” I say. “Yes” she says with her last breath. I fall to the floor clutching my stomach. Ms. Ashton turns me on my back. “Betty, it’s going to be ok, Betty. Susan, get me rubbing alcohol and bandages. Cheryl, push on Betty’s wound. Alice turn on the stove and heat up a knife, then give it to me.” “Ok” all say in unison. First Ms. Ashton pours rubbing alcohol on me, and I scream. Than she takes the heated knife and applies it to my wound, also while I scream. I get bandaged up. Then I pass out and a few hours later I wake up. I hear Ms. Ashton, Cheryl, Alice, and Susan in the kitchen. I can hear what they’re saying “What do we do with Jane’s corpse, and what do we do if Betty never wakes up?” Alice says, she’s breathing hard, “I can’t go to prison.” Alice says followed with the sound of bile on the floor. I stand, it hurts like hell, and I involuntarily scream. “Well, look who’s up” Cheryl says sarcastically. “I heard your conversation. Get Jane’s corpse into the bath tub. She definitely has powerful chemicals to dissolve dead bodies in the basement, Alice and Susan get those. Ms. Ashton, you’re a teacher, so you know Jane’s handwriting. You should write a note to her parents saying she ran away.” “Ok.” Everyone says in the unison. I’m standing in the bathroom over Jane’s corpse with gloves on, a hair net, and a big bucket of chemicals. I sit on the cold tile and start to cut the flesh off of her bones. I don’t want to, but it’s the only way I can dissolve her body to leave no trace of her. I stop a couple of times to throw up, but I get it done in about four hours or so. Then I go down the stairs and see how the others are doing. I look out the window and it’s the night still. “Ms. Ashton what day and time is it?” I ask. “Its the 21st and it’s midnight.” Ms. Ashton responded. “We need to burn some of her clothes, food, toothbrush, and hairbrush” I say. “Why?” Ms. Ashton, Susan, Cheryl, and Alice say back. “Because if she ran away she would take her clothes, food, toothbrush, and a hairbrush with her.” I say. “Ok I will start a fire out back” says Ms. Ashton. “Ok” Susan, Cheryl, and Alice say in unison. We go out back, and start a fire. We burn her clothes, food, toothbrush, and a hairbrush. After we’re done I put out the fire. I take what’s left of her body after it’s dissolved and dump it down the drain. Then me, Cheryl, Susan, Alice, and Ms. Ashton get in Ms.Ashton's car with what’s left of Jane’s bones. We drive deep into woods, and dig a very deep hole, and stick Jane’s bones into them. Then we cover it with the rest of the dirt. After that night we went our separate ways. We didn’t speak or acknowledge each other at school unless it was necessary. No one ever questioned what happened to Jane, everything simply went back to normal. We never spoke of the night Jane was murdered.


(the mid of class) Rose and her friends were going to get some water and at that moment Rose saw an attractive boy. (Rose, taking a glance of the boy) A boy who looked like he has come from heaven, his curly brown hair and shaded blue eye which resembled like a peacock's feather, was different. (Friends laughing and fooling around) She told her friends that see, see that boy looks like a Princely Angel. her friends were shocked because they were not able to see him. he is just there in front of my eyes, she said. Her friends were so shocked that how is she able to see someone, who is invisible to the naked eye. They wondered, is she some super natural? Is she blessed? Then, the reality hit, no one's so special. And later one friend high fived Eve. (Behind the scenes) Rose was blindly in love with that mysterious boy, she visioned something, her friend, Eve's glass bottle would fall down, when she high fives. Rose felt that was a dejavu and just ignored, (Loud was of shattering, Eve's bottle falls down) Rose was astonished! She goes back to class and later, goes home. (Rose while walking home, sees the boy) Rose : hey, hi (The guy doesn't respond) There!! She had a vision again! (An old lady, trying to cross the road would get hit by a car.) She was at the zebra crossing waiting for the signal to turn green. She sees the same old lady, she was frightened but thought of following her instincts and go behind her. She sees the car approaching. The woman approaching towards the car, there she was, Rose pulled the woman out of the way and gets hit by the car. (Honks and ambulance sounds) Rose finds herself in the hospital. (Rose thinking in the hospital) She thought alot what had happened to her? How is she in the hospital? Who had taken her to the hospital?* She asked the nurse that what had happened to her. But the nurse sadly told that she knew nothing about the accident. A few days later, as she recovers, she goes back home and then back to her normal life and school. She thought, what really was happening to her, she never used to get dejavu and all. She goes to school. Enter her classroom and there a friend of hers calls her to discuss about a college event. At that moment, she sees that guy again and tries to follow him this time. (she follows him and enters into a strange room) There.. She sees a weird door and that guy and has a dejavu again. (She sees that she in the college event and wins the Miss fresher award and later, the whole event sinks into the fire) she faints there. Her friends try finding her but were unable to find her, then Eve sees a room which was somewhat different and there, she was Rose, who was fallen on the ground. Eve woke Rose by pouring water droplets. Rose opened her eye and Eve hugged her. She asked rose that whether she was fine. She asked Rose that they didn't find her anywhere. Eve: What had happened? How did you reach this place? We were all worried about you. We are relieved now. Rose : I don't know what had happened to me? I don't remember how I reached here, in this room! I followed a guy,he was strange. I shouted for help. No one heard, I fainted in astonishment. (Rose and Eve see that room again.) (The room was so dark like a night sky and there was no light around. Room had a strange door) They were scared! They left the place. (Rose pondering, how was she able to see future? Was she cursed with some evil power? She was so scared that she couldn’t even tell this thing to her friends) Eve asked Rose that was she fine. She asked her if she could help Rose get home. Rose refuses the offer and goes home by her own. (she sees him while going home) Rose: Hey, I know you know what is happening with me? Why am I able to see the future only when you around me? The guy finally tells that he is the one who is supposed to protect her from evil power and tells her that she was born with powers of seeing future whenever he comes around her. She was shocked and asked who is the evil person, who wants to kill her. (at home) She tries to remember the vision and writes it, looking at the what was written, she finds a way out. At that time she calls her friend Eve for help. (Rose and Eve planning to save the college from fire) * (The college event day! ) Eve to rose : you look marvellous. (Rose look like curly black hair and shaded blue eye, her dress was like red color one piece. She looked like a princess) Rose told thank you Eve. Eve replied welcome. ( the college event starts) (In the beginning they were supposed to do ramp walk) Rose was above to do her ramp walk with her friend but then that guy again appeared and she was shocked what will happen to college event now. (Rose again had a vision of that strange room, this time she saw a strange door and she opened that room) Rose fainted. That guy lifted her and brought her to that room and told because of her, he lost his super power and now he going to kill her. The guy told he was suppose to marry her. But you got to know about my plan and ran away.( Rose got know about her evil plan of running the world.) So to stop him, she time travel to this year where this all started and got a super power of seeing the future whenever I m in front of her. (Eve searching Rose here and there) Eve shouting Rose where are you? Rose are you there? Rose Rose Rose. Rose, Eve help me, I m locked in this room, please help me in tears. (Eve searching Rose and then reach that strange room.) Eve tried to open the room but was not able to. Then she brought a rod from side and broke the lock. She opens the door. (Rose saw Eve was very happy and hugged her with tears) Eve: Rose what has happened to you? Why are you in this room? And is everything fine with you? Rose: Eve I don't know what had happened to me. I am scared. (Starts crying) (Eve hugged her) Rose and Eve then leave the room. But Rose was worried that how will she save herself from that guy and her friend, even college. But this time Rose got all her confidence to do this. Rose and Eve preform as per the plan and Rose win Miss Fresher title and that time she remembered that the back stage curtain had caught fire. She tries to stop the fire, Eve helps her and stops the fire. (The guy again appears) He tells he could not kill her again, This time Rose knew what she to do so that he wont kill his friend Eve and her too. The guy : finally I get a chance tell about himself in front of all. ( the guy laugh loudly and people around get scared with his evil laugh) He tells that he is Michael and he is the one whom Rose was able to see and and and I am here to kill her. Hahahaha ( the guy again laughs a loud) (The crowd fainted because of his evil laugh) Rose and Eve, we won't let this happen. (The guy, Rose and Eve fights with the sword) Michael was on the floor and Rose kept sword on his face and then he vainshed in the thin air. Rose was shocked and confused. Eve was like how can he vainsh. Rose thought thought where can he be? Again and again. Then she realised that he can be in that strange room. (Rose and Eve ran to that room) (The room opens he laugh a loud) You have come here,for your dead, now you both going die. (Michael laughs aloud again) This time Rose and Michael fought badly and then Rose push him in the strange door of that room. Eve opens her eye asked where did that guy go. Then Rose tells Eve that I m blessed with the power of seeing future and I realised that when I saw Michael for the first time. This time I had vision that the strange door is answer for everything and when I opened got to know. Eve was like are you witch? How can this happen? I am scared!! Rose told that when I opened that strange room she saw a universe and she pushed that guy there. (She understood that she is not from this world too) She didn't tell eve about a piece of letter. (And after that she got a piece of letter. (She opened that letter) It was letter written by her father( who was a great magician of his time ) The letter Hey Rose, I know you have many questions like how are you able to see the future? What is the aim of your life? Who are your actual parent? Rose calm down I am your dad Mike and was a great magician, I was blessed with the power of seeing future and this power went to my child that was you. When you were born, Michael came to kill you. But was not able to kill you and in angry he killed your mother. In that sadness, I left behind to kill him and I am sorry for whatever happened with you. Now when you are reading this, it means you have realised that you have super power to see future and that time you wont remember about your past. It told that the person who kill you will rule the world so Michael wanted to kill you, to rule the world. Now that you know about your super power, Use it wise my child. I love you my child Rose.) Rose told Eve, I am alright and I m happy to see you fine. Let's go and enjoy college party. ( when they goes see everyone dancing in the party) Rose and Eve danced and made a promise that they won't leave each other. The end!


I have just had the most interesting week of my life. Not many people can say they’ve spent the week hiding from someone who wants to kill them, can they? I thought schools were meant to be safe places, and principals were meant to be people you could trust. Wrong. I haven’t made it to eight and a half years old without some survival instincts. For example, I can climb over the balcony of our first-floor council flat, and down to the ground, using only the drainpipe. That has come in handy when Dad tells me to go to my room and never come out again. I also have supersonic hearing. I can make my breathing quiet, and I can hear a pin drop at the opposite end of the flat. That has come in handy when I’ve needed to know if Dad is snoring, so that I can climb down the drainpipe without him noticing. On Monday afternoon, when my Auntie Elle was called to the principal’s office, I needed my supersonic hearing. I was told to wait outside, so I knew it was serious. Usually when I’m in trouble, I have to go in and listen to all of the ‘you should have done this’s,’ and ‘you shouldn’t have done that’s’ and ‘if you do it again THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES.’ This time, I sat outside while Auntie Elle went in, looking like she was the one in trouble. She is a bit afraid of Principal Grobin because she’s her boss. Auntie Elle is a Year One teacher at my school. I wish she was my teacher. She wouldn’t grass on me for things like my Year Three teacher does. She’d help me with the cover up, and then give me the lecture at home. I sat as still as could be in the soft chairs outside Principal Grobin’s office. I made my breathing so slow and quiet that I might have been a boy with the lungs of a mouse. Mouse Lung Boy. ‘... as you can understand Elle, this can’t go on. Sam has had plenty of warnings about his language...’ Ah, flip, I thought. She’s on about the cussing again. I can’t flippin’ help it. My dad cusses all the time. He always says I learned to cuss before I learned to talk, and he’s probably right. I used ‘flip’ just now so as not to cause offence, but the thing is, I never try to cause offence. It just happens. It just rolls off my tongue, as they say. I don’t know why they say that. It’s a weird thing to say. No one sticks their tongue out so the words can just roll off when they talk, do they? The latest cussing incident had been because my dad had forgotten to give me money to buy lunch at the canteen. When I realised at lunch time, all I said was, ‘For God’s sake, Old Man, what the ‘flip’ am I meant to have for lunch now?’ Of course, my teacher was right behind me. My supersonic hearing let me down that time. I didn’t hear her lanyard jingling over the growling of my stomach, I suppose. Anyway, she turned purple in the face and a vein popped out in her forehead, and the next thing I knew she was saying she’d have to have a word to Principal Grobin, because I’d had enough warnings, blah, blah, blah. I went to see Auntie Elle, and when I told her what had happened, she gave me half of her sandwich, and a good talking to. But that wasn’t the end of it. ‘There has to be consequences for Sam’s behaviour,’ said Principal Grobin. ‘Of course, but things aren’t easy for Sam at home. I’m sure he means to change his ways...’ Nice try Auntie Elle, but as Principal Grobin said last time, I can’t keep using that excuse. ‘He can’t keep using that excuse, Elle. He has already been suspended several times. If this continues, it will leave me with no other choice...’ The lady from the front of the office walked past right at that moment on her way to the photocopier, and in hindsight, I might have missed a crucial piece of information. What does hindsight mean, anyway? The sight of someone’s hind? Isn’t a hind a butt? Allow me to rephrase. As I looked at the butt of the past, disappearing into the distance, I realised I might have missed a crucial piece of information. The next thing I heard from Principal Grobin’s mouth was, ‘expulsion.’ ‘I understand,’ said Auntie Elle grimly. When I saw her face, it told the story. It was the face you’d see on someone coming out of a hospital room when the doctor had just said, ‘I’m sorry, there’s nothing we can do.’ Well, I knew exactly what that meant, and there was no way I was going to let that happen to me. I couldn’t believe Auntie Elle just stood there and agreed to my expulsion. Some Auntie she is. I used to think she was great. When I was little, she used to buy me presents all the time, and played games with me, even army ones. Then she went to Australia for a couple of years, and I only saw her on the computer, or on Dad’s phone. She was still nice then. Always, ‘I can’t wait to see you, Sammy,’ and, ‘Wait until I come home, we will do all of the things.’ Lies. All of it. When Auntie Elle came back to England, all she did was make rule, after rule, after rule. Now I have to go to bed at 8pm, eat vegetables, go to school every day even if I don’t feel like it, and if I even so much as think about using my sling shot to fire rocks through the neighbours’ windows, she’s on to me like a flash. It’s like she reads my mind. She says all teachers can do it, and I believe her. So that’s when the fight for my survival began. I’d heard about expulsions. That’s what those crawling insect sprays do to cockroaches. I wasn’t going to just roll over, belly up and wave my legs in the air. No way. If Mrs Grobin wanted me dead, I was going to go down fighting. I knew I was wasting my breath going to Dad. He’d never believe me, for one. And for another, Dad has a pretty hard time just looking after himself. He wasn’t going to be able to help me to fend for my life. No, it was all down to me. That Monday afternoon, I sat down in front of the television with a bowl of crisps and turned on the latest series of ‘Man Vs Wild’, while Auntie Elle went to Dad’s bedroom to tell him the news. Auntie Elle says I shouldn’t be watching Bear Grylls. She says it’s rated PG, and if I don’t have a grown up with me, I might see something I don’t understand, and it might traumatise me, so I usually only watch it when she’s not at our place. But this time, I thought she was going to be so busy for the next three hours telling Dad about all the stuff I’d done wrong that I might as well sneak a few episodes in. I couldn’t delay. I needed an upgrade of my survival skills, and fast. Pity that Bear never faced an old lady with a black bob, a big nose, a moustache and round spectacles. That would have helped me out with Principal Grobin. I don’t know if it was three hours later that Auntie Elle came out of Dad’s room, but I quickly turned off Bear Grylls, and put on a cartoon. She didn’t even look though. She was wiping her eyes, and she rushed off through the front door as I heard Dad shout after her, ‘Flippin’ bossy teachers and their flippin’ rules. Lucky that bloke didn’t marry you or he’d have been nagged to death by now.’ Dad came out shortly afterwards, carrying his walking cane. He’s only thirty, but he needs to walk with a cane, because he hurt his back. ‘Sammy, what’s this I hear about you cussing at school, boy?’ he said to me. What a hypocrite. I think that means someone who gets up you for something they do themself all the time. Dad has said it before about Auntie Elle. She told him to stop drinking beers once and he said, ‘What a flippin’ hypocrite.’ Auntie Elle loves to drink beers, but I have to say, she doesn’t drink so much that she falls asleep in a chair, like Dad does. ‘Sorry Dad, it slipped out because you forgot my money for the canteen.’ ‘Did I?’ asked Dad. He looked a bit guilty, but then he put on his strict face and his gruff voice and said, ‘It’s got to stop, boy. You’re upsetting Elle, and when Elle’s upset, she upsets me.’ Then he went back to bed. The next day at school, I put my plan into action. They used to say kids should be seen and not heard. Well, I was going to be neither seen, nor heard. The first thing I had to do was throw Auntie Elle off the scent. So, I made sure I put on my neatest uniform, and I slicked my hair back with hair gel, to make me look like a really good boy. I even wore the approved school socks with my shoes. I never do that. Auntie Elle was happy when she came to pick me up. She gave me a big smile, and a squeezy hug, and said, ‘I know it will be okay, Sammy. You just need to think before you speak, my love.’ She smelt so nice, like a bunch of flowers, and I was glad that she was smiling again. I suppose she is kind, even though she’s got too many rules. As soon as we got through the school gates, and Auntie Elle gave me a kiss and went to her classroom, I went for the boys’ toilets to change. I pulled out my camouflage pants and t-shirt and put them on. I tied a bandana around my head and drew two stripes on each of my cheeks with camouflage paint. It wasn’t so much for disguise, as to help me get into the right frame of mind. If I was going to survive, I needed to think like a warrior, and to think like a warrior, I needed to feel like a warrior. I made my way through the school grounds, keeping behind poles, and rubbish bins, until I made it to the sports shed. That was going to be my home for the rest of my school life. Or at least until Principal Grobin forgot about me and moved on to a new prey. I knew it would be unlocked. Mr Peters, the PE teacher, was always early. He always took out the equipment he needed for the day, and then took off to Auntie Elle’s classroom to chat her up before school. Then, he didn’t come back to the shed until he had to pack up in the afternoon. That’s what made the sports shed the perfect hiding spot. When the coast was clear, I snuck in, and went to the far back corner. From my backpack I pulled a bath towel and laid it down on the concrete floor of the shed. There I stayed, all day, until just before the home time bell, when I snuck back into the toilets, changed back into my uniform, cleaned my face, and met Auntie Elle at her classroom to go home. As the week wore on, it got cold in that shed. I had a hoodie, and cargo pants, but it wasn’t enough. On Thursday, when the other students were in class, I slipped out and gathered the materials I needed for a fire, but despite having plenty of fuel, it wouldn’t light. I’d have to re-watch that episode. Bear made it look easy. It wasn’t. By Thursday, I knew that Auntie Elle was on to me. She’d started to ask questions like, ‘What did you learn today, Sammy?’ and ‘Strange, I haven’t seen you in the playground when I’ve been on duty. Where have you been playing?’ I managed to answer those questions with carefully thought out lies, but at second break, disaster struck. From my spot in the corner, I saw Mr Peters come in. He was looking for footballs. He must have forgotten to get them out in the morning. The balls were in the opposite corner to where I was, and I thought I’d gotten away without being noticed, but as he turned to leave, with the bag of balls over his shoulder, he glanced my way. I noticed him freeze, and I saw a slight raise of his eyebrows, then he left. He'd seen me for sure. This was bad. Not in the least because Mr Peters was in Auntie Elle’s pockets. Mr Peters fancied Auntie Elle, but he wasn’t having much luck. Auntie Elle wanted to marry a man she’d left behind in Australia. I don’t think she really wanted to come home. I think she came home because she was worried about Dad. When Mr Peters left, I knew I had to follow him. I snuck out after him and, sure enough, he went straight for Auntie Elle’s classroom, and slipped through the door. The dirty, rotten snitch. I always thought Mr Peters was a cool teacher. Now I knew he was just like the others. Luckily for me, he left the door partially open. He didn’t know about my supersonic hearing. I made my way as close as I could and listened from just outside. ‘...in the back of the shed.’ ‘Are you sure it was Sam?’ ‘Yes, Elle. He was in disguise, but it was him.’ ‘The cheeky git. I wondered why I hadn’t heard from his teacher yet this week.’ She sighed. She didn’t sound angry. She sounded kind of... tired. ‘How long does he think he’ll be able to keep this up for?’ How long would she keep it up if her life was at stake? I peeked inside, and Mr Peters had his arm around her shoulders. That wasn’t on. I took my sling shot out of my pocket and picked up a pretzel that someone must’ve dropped from their lunch. I took aim and fired. It hit Mr Peters in the back of the head. I only stayed long enough to hear him say, ‘What the-,’ and then I fled back to my corner of the shed. There was only one thing for it. If Mr Peters was going to go to Principal Grobin and grass on me, I was going to need a new hiding spot, and another layer of defense. As quick as a flash, I packed up my towel, and gathered the other items I would need- a volleyball net and some skipping ropes. I wasn’t looking forward to settling in at my new accommodation, but there was no other option. It would have to be the cleaner’s storage room, next to the boys’ toilets. By Friday morning, I was all set. The volleyball net was suspended above me, and all it would take was a slight tug on a skipping rope and it would come down on any predator who attempted expulsion on me. I must have made a misstep somewhere though- not covered my tracks properly, because it wasn’t even first break before I heard the urgent clip-clop of Principal Grobin’s high heels on the concrete path outside, and Auntie Elle’s voice pleading with her for mercy. ‘I’m sure there’s some misunderstanding,’ she was saying. ‘Perhaps he just... got confused... things aren’t easy for him at home you see.’ ‘QUIET,’ said Principal Grobin. You can bet I was quiet, and so was Auntie Elle. She prowled inside the cleaner’s room. I was hidden out of sight behind the carpet cleaners. As she edged closer, I bided my time, my heart leaping out of my chest, and then- Well, you should have heard the language that came out of Principal Grobin’s mouth when I pulled on that skipping rope, and the volleyball net fell straight on top of her, entrapping her. My own father would have been shocked and appalled. She didn’t say ‘flip’. She said the real ‘f’ word, and a few others I’d never even heard before, but expect I might use in the future. And they say you don’t learn anything useful in school. Once the commotion had died down, the thing that really surprised me was Auntie Elle. ‘I’m sure that if some understanding can be shown for language that might slip out from Sammy from time to time, then my brother will show some understanding towards this situation when Sammy tells him about it this afternoon, and he will withhold his complaint,’ she said. I could tell she was scared. She was wringing her hands behind her back as she said it. But it worked. Remember I mentioned hindsight? It turns out that by ‘expulsion’, Principal Grobin didn’t mean she wanted me dead. She just meant she’d kick me out of the school. If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have put up so much of a fight. I could’ve had freedom, if only I’d just gone to class and let a few more cuss words roll off my tongue. But instead, I ended up with a detention, and I’ve made a solemn vow to Auntie Elle that I’ll change my ways this time. And I will try because Auntie Elle is good as gold.


"I'm just saying, man, the market for deathsticks isn't even that hot anymore. I think I need a change." "Elan, you can't be serious. You've built an empire here. We're just about to make it big, man. You can't abandon me like this, not now." I walked away. I can't explain it, really. Riko was right, I'd spent years cornering the deathstick market. I just got a fresh shipment in yesterday, all ready to unload on the scum of Coruscant. Yesterday....shit it's still a blur. I remember hitting up the Outlander club like usual, it's usually a sure thing for a few drunken assholes looking for a quick fix and without a clue what the going rate should be. I was at the bar, had my Bantha juice cocktail, and....God I can't remember much else. I woke up here, at home. I walked back into the Outlander club at 2:00pm. "Skrog it's sad in here during the daytime". "Easy on the language buddy", rebuked the almost-human looking bartender. "You were here last night, right?" I asked him as he poured out the Dantooine ice-twist for the blue-skinned gal on the end of the bar. She was torn between trying to catch my eye and nursing her obvious hangover from the night before with a little hair of the Bantha. The bartender nodded. "Do you remember me? Did you see me here last night?" "Sure did. You were in a hurry to get out of here." "I'm having a little trouble remembering, did someone maybe drug me?" "Well, you came up to the bar talking to this robed guy, God did he cause some..... "Farkle, that's right! Jesus looking outsider, I remember. Thanks, I gotta run". "If you find him", said the bartender, "send him my way. Laserbrain caused quite a mess in here last night". Did he mess with my mind? Did he drug me? All I knew was, I wanted out of the deathstick game. I didn't know why. I think I'll move to Alderaan, seems like a good place to set up a home. I hear good things. Nice, quiet place. I'm going to build a life for myself, I'm done with this scene. I want to live a long, healthy life. I guess I should thank that robed, long haired angel for helping me rethink my life.


He screamed. The man fell and feebly scrambled on all fours through shallow muddy water, backing away from the approaching creature. He never should have come here. *"Nooo!"* His face contorted with terror, and fatigue sapped the strength from his bones. He collapsed knowing this was it. From the murky green fog it came, 'The Monster' had finally come for him. Closer and closer it sloshed, cloaked by a thick shadow of flies that produced a low sickening buzz, filling his ears with the revolting sound of some hellish chorus. The insects bit at him and tore at his face, covering every inch of exposed skin. At last, through the swarm he saw clearly the man-shaped rusted metal body of a feral Automaton towering over him. Its chest bore the marking 'M-0N-ST-3R'. Its skeletal metal frame decaying, encrusted in dark blood, masticated flesh clung to it like ragged clothes. The stench of rotting meat assaulted his nose with the foul pungency of weeks old death. Mushrooms, tall and ominous, crimson capped and secreting streaks of an inky tar-like liquid covered its body and had completely replaced the head altogether. Whatever sense of hope left in him fled as the monster knelt down and reached forth with a skeletal metal hand, taking him by the neck. An icy fear coursed through his body like cold lightning, freezing his soul, yet through choked tears he managed to utter, *"Why?"*. Suddenly, the creature stopped and spoke. *"I am eating you."* it replied, emotionless, even for the lifeless voice of a machine, *"To become human."* With rusty joints groaning it stood, lifting him into the air. He flailed in vain as he gasped for breath, feet kicking weakly at the machine, barely making a clang against its iron skin. For a harrowing moment it froze and held him there, then the monster continued, *"The master has gone where I cannot follow. I must become human. I need a soul to follow the master."* A hatch on its shoulders opened up, spewing a cloud of spores and choking fumes, and its mushroom head lifted back. The metallic belly of the beast, a maw of whirling gears blackened with gore and flies stood gaping, hungering for blood. He'd heard its horrid grind before, echoing through the mist, seemingly coming from no where and everywhere at once with no discernable distance or direction. In this malignant fog all sounds seemed distant and muted except for this *one* that traveled unhindered by time or space. He knew what was about to happen. It leaned forward and he screamed as it pulled him closer and flies swarmed into his mouth, tearing at him from the inside. Someone listening would have vividly heard his cry cut short by the squelching of wet flesh and bone grinding to a pulp. But there was no one else. He'd been the only one left as the others had fallen already. When exhaustion pulled them down, the monster caught up every time. Gore dripped from the machine like rain as it stood, silently hating itself, hating its failure. It had nourished its body how humans do, but still its fleshed died, rotting in its core and sloughing off its body. It sought to achieve the same qualities as humans, emulating as many as it could, like 'hearts', 'nerves', and 'guts'. Still, it was driven away by angry mobs, damaged and despised everywhere it went, yet people still called *it* the 'monster'. It had everything humans had, except a soul. Its master must be quite upset at such tardiness.


Cancer, cancer is... *inhales* It took you, your mother, my mother, my father, and my sister too. The fact that it's your own body killing you makes it even harder to deal with. Treatment wreaks havoc on everyone involved. I know I dont come to visit you that often but it's so hard for me to come back here. This place serves as a reminder that the only time I'll get to be with you again is when I'm no longer ticking. But at least we'll be together for ever right? It's been so long now that I've forgotten what it felt like to sense you. I can picture your face in my memory bank but my eyes struggle to imagine. It's more of the same with the shrill nasally tone of your voice, oh what I wouldn't give to hear you scold me for forgetting to take out the garbage just one more time. There was something so alluring about the way your voice would crack when you were so passionate about something. The sound of your perfume bottle clanging against your jewelry box as you put it back during your morning routine. Sometimes I'll hear a dish hit another one. If I close my eyes in that moment, it's as if I can still smell you, and the way your natural scents blended perfectly together with that perfume. I miss the way youd walk over to me, still in bed because I always slept through my alarms, and wake me up. I've never told you this before but some days I'd pretend to be asleep because I enjoyed a forehead kiss to start my day. I was just too embarrassed to ask for them. I'm sure you already knew that though. Oh... I brought you flowers. They are lilacs or something. I told the lady at the store that I had a hot date in an hour. She laughed with me, or at me, but I dont care. Then asked "well what kind of flowers do you think this lucky lady would want?" To which I quickly said "Everything blue and or purple." She picked out a lovely selection. I won't take credit for it. You know me better than that. If you were able to, youd be smacking me upside the head saying "that's an iris you dummy." I can't believe we would've been married 53 years this year. My how the time flies. At this point I'm sure you're wondering why I'm talking to you for so long today. The flowers are normal, but babe I've also got some news for you. Yesterday the doctor diagnosed me with pancreatic cancer. I have 8 months to a year to live. If I start treatment today I can prolong it to maybe 3 years in a "perfect" world. I'm not going to be getting treatment. I can't put the kids through that a second time. I wanted you to be the first person I told. I'm on my way to go see them now though and break the news. I love you babe. Hope you saved me a spot at the dinner table next to you. I'll see you soon...


John sat in his booth, as he had done for the past year, watching the time creep by. He wasn’t happy in his job, but someone had to do it. Since the fall of the government the border had become a main priority for the rebels. They had tried multiple times to breach the divide, but to no avail. John sipped his coffee and played solitaire on the decrepit computer he had been given. A cool chill ran down his spine. There was something amiss. He was alone tonight. He didn’t like that. His partner Rosaline had asked for the night off, and John didn’t have the heart to say no. He reached for the cup of coffee again, and took another sip. He noticed a set of headlights approached from the northern side. He tensed up slightly but took some deep breaths and tried to relax himself. He heard the low beating of the engine as the car came into earshot. He couldn’t make out the model from where he was sitting. The black car rolled slowly towards the crossing. The brakes squeaked as the car came to a smooth stop. John peered into the black tinted windows but was met only by his own gaze. He signalled to the driver to lower the window. They obliged. The dimly lit interior made it difficult to distinguish the passengers of the car. He could only make out the silhouette of the drivers face under the bright halogen lamps overhead. But he didn’t see the handgun that the driver pulled from beneath his jacket. John’s head snapped back and his legs crumbled under his limp body’s weight. The driver placed the gun in the glove box of the car, and grabbed his radio. He grunted a command down to his accomplices. Suddenly from the hill that the gunman travelled from, a row of lights began to turn on. The rebels stormed towards the crossing. They had done it. They were in control now. The news reached the makeshift capital within hours. The rebels made sure that their presence was known, launching flares and firing bullets into the air. They could afford to do that. They had a plentiful supply of resources. William Cardinal, former Taoiseach, now leader of the resistance, had worked tirelessly for the past few months, but now his hard work had been undone in a matter of minutes. He had been asleep before the sound of gunshots had awoken him. A common sound in modern Ireland. It didn’t worry him anymore. It was the new recruits being trained. Even the youngest and weakest of soldiers were being readied for deployment only a few miles from where they had once lived, ate and played. In matter of months the whole democracy had been overturned. Although not complete anarchy, the only guidelines that the people followed now were determined by their own moral compass. Ireland had never been more dangerous. The country was in the midst of a civil war. William felt the warm tears flood his eyes and run down his face. He had laboured all his life to be in this position, now he would give anything to be out of it. He was interrupted by a knock to his office door. The door burst open before he had dried his face of the salty tears. He turned to face the window before he saw who had joined him. The familiar voice of Devin McKeown, his right hand man, greeted his ears. “It’s not good Bill, the rebel hordes are advancing quickly towards the capital.” William knew this would happen eventually. But he was prepared. He quickly cleared his face of tears and turned to face Devin. “Please sit.” He gestured towards the luxurious leather armchair that resided in his office. He reached for the file on his desk and threw it towards Devin. The file was mark classified and was virtually untouched. When Devin opened the file he was greeted by the title “The Exodus”. “The Exodus? What’s that supposed to mean?” “We’re getting out of here, I’ve got a man who can take us out under the cover of night. He’s got a boat and we can be in Liverpool by tomorrow.” “Tomorrow?” Devin asked. “I’m leaving tonight with or without you. I need to know where your loyalty lies.” “You’re asking me to abandon my country. What about the resistance. What about all of the soldiers that we’re training to die. Have you no morals? Have you no conscience? You honestly think I will commit treason for you, a snivelling, overwhelmed excuse for a leader.” “Watch your tongue. Just because you have served me well thus far, doesn’t mean that I can’t have you taken care of.” “So it has come to this. Threats. Abuse. You don’t understand what it’s like to serve for your country. You don’t know what it’s like to be thrown into battles you have no chance of winning. You don’t understand. You never will. I’m not like you. I’m not comfortable abandoning my country when it needs me most just to fade into obscurity. I don’t want to be remembered as the man that helped the cowering Taoiseach to his escape. I want to stand and fight. And if I die, so be it. I will leave behind a legacy. Years from now when our children’s children are learning about the Rebellion, I will be remembered, I will not be erased by death. My legacy shall be everlasting.” William regretted it immediately when his fist struck Devin’s chin. He collapsed. He was out. William grabbed his bag and fled the office. He took into a light jog through the damp and murky hallways trying to get to the nearest exit. One of the fire exits was left ajar, so William darted out the opening. He decided against taking the former government car as it would attract too much attention. He climbed inside Devin’s blue hatchback. Devin always left his keys on the back driver side wheel. William was in the clear for now. He reflected on what Devin had to say while he drove to the docks. His years in politics had made him tough-skinned to criticism. But this time it was personal. Someone that William had trusted so dearly had turned on him. It hurt. It was approaching four in the morning, dimly light and punctuated by the revolving yellow light of the nearby lighthouse when William had reached the docks. He left a small rucksack with a sum of money inside at the designated drop point. William approached a boat that resembled that of the one that had been described to him. He approached one of the men that stood at the stern of the boat. He shouted up to him, “I’m looking for Morpheus.” Morpheus was the codename that his assistant had given themselves. William boarded the boat and went down to the lower decks. He was instructed to stay in the engine room. He entered the room and closed the door behind him and breathed a sigh of relief. He had done it. He was free.


Calpillo and his little sister Xochil harvested corn from their parent's corn field for dinner for the night while his mother Xochimilco harvested beans. Xochimilco cooked the Rabbit, corn and beans, and the family ate supper for the evening in peace. Their father Texcoco came back with a Rabbit. Texcoco and his family lived happily and peacefully with their tribe in the land of Aztlan. The Tribe took good care of their land and got along well with the neighboring tribes. Later that night, the tribe was gathered around a large bonfire when a deity appeared before them. The deity had blue skin, hummingbird feathers sprouting from his head and shoulders, a shield in one hand, and a scepter that looked like a serpent with a flame in it's gaping maw. "Listen and listen well, my children! I am the god Huitzilpochtli, your creator. I come bearing an important message for you all. You are to leave Aztlan and set out to the south tomorrow in search of the promised land!" Huitzilpochtli pointed at Texcoco. "I want you to lead the Tribe on this quest." "Me?" Texcoco asked. "But I am a simple farmer!" "But how will we know if and when we've found the promised land, my lord??" asked a woman. "I shall give you a sign when you reach the promised land to tell you if you found the promised land. "What is this sign? What will this sign look like?" asked a man. "You will know the sign when you first lay eyes upon it. Your journey begins at dawn! I will guide you!" Huitzilpochtli then vanished in a puff of hummingbird feathers. At the break of dawn the next morning, Texcoco lead the various tribes of Aztlan as the tribe bid the land of Aztlan farewell and marched southward in search of Huitzilpochtli's sign. They marched and marched ever onward, stopping only to camp and rest when the sun set. Calpillo looked around him, looking for the "Sign" that Huitzilpochtli left them from the campfire. He saw stars, constellations, rocky outcroppings, the occasional Coyote, and succulents of all shapes and sizes, but nothing out of the ordinary. "What is this sign you left us, my lord?" Calpillo asked to himself. "What's wrong, brother?" Xochil asked. "Is this journey just a wild goose chase? We've walked for a day and a half and what have we found to show for it?" Calpillo asked. "Huitzilpochtli wouldn't send us out to the desert to torture us like this. He didn't create us just so he could destroy us." Xochil said. "Yes. Yes, I suppose you're right about that..." Calpillo said. The next day the tribe walked the desert again until they reached the grasslands. Tall reeds and shrubs greeted the wandering tribe. The Tribe drank plentifully from the water stream, and took a break to eat some corn. That night, as the Tribe sat at the campfire, a howl caused the men and women to take up weapons. A pack of Coyotes circled around the travelers' camp, snarling and howling. While several men killed off three Coyotes in the pack, two coyotes zeroed in on Texcoco. One Coyote jumped forward at Texcoco and clamped down on his shoulder, clawing at his chest. Texcoco brought a scythe down on the back of the Coyote's neck, killing the wild animal on the spot. Xochimilco, Calpillo and Xochil watched in horror as the second Coyote leapt at Texcoco from behind him and bit down on his other shoulder, clawing at his back. Someone shot an arrow at the back of the Coyote's neck, and the Coyote fell over limply. Texcoco also fell over limply. A neighboring tribe traveling along revealed themselves as the killers of the coyote. The remaining coyotes in the pack retreated back into the wilderness to regroup. Xochimilco, Calpillo and Xochil looked down at Texcoco, worried greatly. "Father, are you alright?" Calpillo asked. "Calpillo....You....must lead the Tribes....from now on...." Texcoco said before breathing his last breath. Xochimilco cried into her hands. Calpillo closed his eyes and prayed. "Give me a sign...Please, Huitzilpochtli...Please give me a sign..." Calpillo thought to himself, hot tears flowing from his eyes. And so, the two Tribes buried Texcoco's body, then went to sleep. At the break of dawn the next morning, the two Tribes packed up to go when they saw blood seep out from underground, and magically flow across the ground in a straight line. Calpillo took this as a sign from Huitzilpochtli, so he lead the two tribes to follow it. They followed the blood trail until it dried up in front of a prickly pear cactus made entirely of stone. An Eagle perched down on top of the stone cactus, a snake clutched firmly in it's other talon. The bird then ate the snake. The boy gasped and dropped down to his knees. "This is it!" Calpillo said. "This is the sign! We reached the promised land!!" The wanderers rejoiced. Their journey was finally over. Another Tribe after another after another after another from Aztlan discovered the sign, until there was enough people for a full-fledged metropolis. Huitzilpochtli appeared before the Tribe. He turned around and gestured them to follow him. "Come with me." the Deity said. The Tribes followed the deity to see a massive lake on the horizon. "This is the promised land. You shall build a city here, and you shall live together as one tribe in peace and prosperity! Never forget this day!" said Huitzilpochtli. Huitzilpochtli then disappeared into a puff of hummingbird feathers. The wandering Tribes, now united as one tribe, named the Lake "Lake Texcoco" and built a grand city with canals and reservoirs dedicated to the Gods called "Tenochtitlan", and since that day, life was good. Or, life was good until the Spanish colonized Tenochtitlan. *My personal take on the story of how Tenochtitlan was founded. I'm sorry if I'm Cultural Appropriating, but I just love mythology so much.


Twenty-seven. It was hard for her to believe. To Bella, it seemed like it might turn out to be just another autumn evening a lot like the rest before it, yet not. She only knew at that moment she couldn't bear any more boredom. The slender brunette wore a red, strapless dress, a modern ‘Jennifer Aniston’ haircut, and an enigmatic expression. If I'm gonna go out , i t will be in style, she thought to herself. So, sticking her foot off the edge of the flat roof, she tested the air...but just as quickly pulled her lifeline back in. The next time the bottom of her black stiletto pushed out, it went a little further over the ledge than she'd planned, as if it had a mind of its own. Her heart, as if on cue, began to gallop. The idea of instant death thrummed like a soothing binaural beat in her head, but her pulse, by then, was pounding in her ears, sounding a little like the snare drum Billy Bassett had played for the high school band a decade earlier. Taking risks had always made her feel more alive when her emotions were dull. During those moments, she could breathe in life and death, and more importantly, the in-between, but this time, her collapsing foothold on life became too terrifying. She teetered, pulling back just in time. Instead of the expected rush, there was dizziness, nausea, and panic. So, it occurred to Bella then that she maybe she wasn’t out on the roof to end it, but to feel something... Imagining how she must look out on the roof's edge in a red dress and high heels sent a fit of laughter to her thin, red lips, which she’d just painted only an hour before. But when the laughter faded, her thoughts shifted... Maybe a little vodka and juice could give her a little more nerve? But courage for which one? Death, Life, or that strange "in-between" she now felt in her soul? She thought on how she used to have a life. One that was worth something. She used to be busy, even popular in high school. Now, she just had an office on the third floor and an empty apartment. So much had changed since she graduated. She’d considered a fancier roof for this overly dramatic event, but her dullness had caused her to end up there instead. Perched high above everything and with such a nice view in front of her, she could now clearly see it, The place where it all went wrong. It was not even that far at all, just a few blocks away...where Brian had proposed to her on the day of their graduation. He’d bought her a ring and presented it to her on bended knee on the football field after the commencement, the same field where he used to play each time they had a home game. She hadn’t married him though. She'd wanted her freedom. Now, there were times she regretted it. All she had now was herself and her cat. Two divorces and a place to work. Their daughter would be 9 now. Bella went back to breathing the memories in and out. Keeping them at arms length for the moment, afterward deciding to go home so she could drink the remaining ones down like watered-down whiskey. Fifteen minutes later she was slipping the key into the door to her apartment, finally home at last, realizing she must have been crazy to even think of doing such a thing. To forget her foolishness, she poured herself a large glass of Chardonnay. Of all people, she should always know life was precious. But thinking of precious, fragile life made her wonder Just what name had the agency given their baby girl all those years ago? What would she look like now? She knew she would have been a terrible mother, anyway, just like her mom was. She reminded herself for the hundredth time it had all been for the best. Yes, it was futile to even ask questions about the child she would never know. On her dresser, the invitation still sat... She picked it up and read it aloud, Mocking its formality. “Bella Franklin, you are cordially invited” it said. “Cordova High School Reunion, September 17 th , 2020.’ “Be There or Be Square.” Couldn’t they think of something more trendy? Tonight, she sure wasn’t up for any small talk, bullshit, or competition. And what if people started asking her questions she really didn't want to answer? Just then, the phone rang. It was “the” Taylor Flynn, class president. Sweet, perky voice, the proverbial sugar, spice, and everything nice. “Are you coming to the reunion tonight? You have to!! You and Brian will the main attraction, Miss Prom Queen 2010 .” “Nah, I think I’m feeling a little off tonight.” “Girl, you just gotta come! All the gang will be there. Good times!” Hanging up the phone, Bella couldn't decide. Should she go to the reunion or just go to bed? But then she thought, “What’s a few hours gonna hurt? I’m already dressed.” She walked in the door to the high school gymnasium where everyone was exchanging pleasantries and recreating memories of old times. A cozy atmosphere seemed to pull her around from person to person. Belle was the delicious tray of hors d'oeuvres that everyone wanted to taste. Basking in her former prom queen glory, she became the person she was before everything had gone horribly wrong. Old memories came flooding back, mostly good ones and even a few of the naughty. Like the time she and Ron Pickett had went under the bleachers to make out and it went a little too far, and the time she cut Mr. Gardner's class to spend the day with Brian doing something else besides learning. “It’s your birthday today, isn’t it, Bella?” her high school bestie, Ashley Green, interrupted her thoughts, speaking in her perpetual cheerleader voice. “Girl, we’re having cake and ice cream in the back in honor of your 27th, and we all chipped in for a pretty nice gift.” Bella’s cheeks turned light pink, then she smiled meekly, ‘Oh, Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” Secretly, though, she was delighted. Later, standing with her friends on the sideline, Bella hadn’t planned to dance until Brian, in a surprisingly shy way, asked, “May I have this dance?” Though the same age as her, time hadn’t been so kind to him. He walked with a bit of a limp from an old football injury, but it didn’t make him any less handsome. Across the room, she noted a couple of her old girlfriends had gained several pounds and some of the guys had lost some their previous hunkiness. Time is cruel , Bella thought to herself. It could only get worse from there once everyone passed their prime. As for Bella, she’d always thought she'd rather die young than lose her wits or her looks. She realized that was another part of what put her out on the ledge. Knowing that each day would rob her of her beauty, steal away her previous opportunities, bring her a step closer to the end. It hit her suddenly that she'd rather step into life, death, and the in-between with full force, enjoying both the "now" and the "not yet" to the fullest than to be dragged away kicking and screaming on her final day. It was on the dance floor she released those thoughts, And began to feel again. Her thoughts were not racing anymore. She was beautiful and alive, connected to everything. At the end of her drive home, she stepped out on the slightly wet sidewalk... The drizzling rain kissing a sweet pattern onto her skin. She stood there a few moments, letting it wash over her. And thinking how this birthday could have been an ending but instead became a new beginning. She now felt clean. Full of new hope. Praying silently that she could feel like this forever, Bella knew the tide would eventually roll back in and carry her with it. For better or worse.. But for now, she was 27, And fully at peace.


Lois Scratched at the sore spot on her scalp, unable to help herself. She was reading the Leviticus 13 section of her Bible where Christ heals the leper. She thought to herself that her scalp must look like a leper’s underneath her thick, long mane of hair. This pandemic had made her psoriasis act up something awful. She had terrible nightmares every night. Lois couldn’t stand not being able to attend her beloved local parish during quarantine. That church had been her life; her only family. She’d never married, even considered becoming a nun at one point, and had gotten a job in the church thirty years ago. It was her first and only real job after finishing high school at Nathan Hale. Lois had always prided herself in being modest, religious, and right. She was always doing the right thing, she often told herself. She never smoked, drank, or popped a bunch of pills that she shouldn’t. Lois was a rules girl. She ate healthy and bought all of her clothes from St. Vincent’s thrift shop. She only bought organic food and the bare necessities to survive on. Her one-bedroom apartment was minimalistic. To keep her company, she’d taken to purchasing parakeets. They didn’t live long, and she enjoyed teaching them to whistle and sometimes even to talk. Thankfully, she’d brought home her current bird right before this awful COVID nonsense started. Paul (she named each parakeet after one of the apostles) was now able to whistle the theme to “The Andy Griffith Show,” and the “Jeopardy” theme. He could also squawk, “Jesus love me.” The last one she’d owned (John) had never managed anything beyond “pretty bird.” Lois walked every day and exercised with sit-ups, pushups, and a small set of free weights. She considered yoga too new-agey, but she stretched to keep limber. She prayed when she got up in the morning, before each meal, and before going to bed at night. Although Lois was grateful for the virtual services her pastor held, they still weren’t the real thing. For one thing, trying to sing along on Zoom was a hot mess with everyone being out of synch. At her church, Lois had been a member of the choir. She’d been on the bake sale committee and helped give out the wine during communion. She was the chief editor of the monthly bulletin, too. Lois had been raised Catholic and had considered herself a good Christian her whole life. She knew there was much evil in the world and was glad she was not a party to any of it. A true conservative at heart, she had a secret crush on Vice President Mike Pence (he had such perfect hair). She also firmly believed that a liberal way of thinking led to liberal misdeeds. She was on the fence about Trump from a moral standpoint but had voted for him both times anyway. Because she was celibate by choice, she’d never had to worry about the ethical issue of birth control. Control and discipline were of the utmost importance to someone like Lois. So when all heck broke loose with this pandemic, it was extremely difficult for her to cope. She’d never felt so out of control in her life, and it terrified her. She’d taken to praying mid-morning and midday along with her other regular sessions. She’d become afraid to go outside lest she catch the deadly plague and took to cleaning her dwelling obsessively, sanitizing things sometimes three times. She had her groceries delivered in and wouldn’t open the door until the person outside was on their way back to the car. The she washed all the produce and sanitized their containers. Lois didn’t mean to be pious or petty, but those qualities did come naturally to her. She had always silently judged the people she worked with, her few friends, other churchgoers, strangers walking their dogs through the neighborhood, people on TV. As she turned the page in her well-worn King James, she scratched at the spot on her scalp again. This time, a small clump of hair came out in her fingers. Disgusted, Lois marked her place and leapt up out of her armchair, to inspect the spot more closely in the bathroom. She’d read that many women were experiencing hair loss issues with the stress of the pandemic (or was it from being infected by the virus?) and was afraid that she too, could fall victim to this terrible fate. Lois parted her hair at the spot to peer at it in the bathroom mirror. It was red and irritated for certain, as well as scaly. The spot was on the right side of her upper temple. Did it look like the start of a bald spot? Holding her breath she parted her hair more, to see if there were still strands continuing to grow out of the raw spot. With a sinking sensation, Lois saw that there were none. Even though pride was a sin, Lois had always been quietly proud of her pretty head of hair. She’d taken it completely for granted that she would always have that. Perhaps she could pray about it? The Lord does work in mysterious ways, as they say. She resolved to add this one to her daily litany: “Lord, please let me keep my hair. Don’t let it all go away. Please let this only be temporary. Let my hair return in all its lustrous glory. Amen.” # Later that week, Lois was reading a particularly disturbing passage in Matthew Chapter 12 of her Bible regarding demons: 43 “When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places, seeking rest, and findeth none. 44 Then he saith, I will return into my house from whence I came out; and when he is come, he findeth it empty, swept, and garnished. 45 Then goeth he, and taketh with himself seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they enter in and dwell there: and the last state of that man is worse than the first. Even so shall it be also unto this wicked generation.” Lois absent-mindedly had begun to itch her opposite temple, scratching it raw. Exasperated, she heaved herself out of the chair to check in the bathroom again. Much to her dismay, she saw an identical bald spot forming on the other side of her head. She’d read about this, too. Female alopecia. It could occur in weird patterns and patches, usually around the crown of the head. The condition was often stress related, many times due to hormonal changes. Throw in the pandemic and the COVID crap flying around out there, and you had a perfect mix for hair loss. Sometimes Lois couldn’t stand being a woman. Of course this happened to women more often than men. Women seemed to get stuck with all the rough deals. Since she’d never aspired to marry or bear someone’s children, she didn’t really see why she should have to suffer all the hardships that other people of her sex did. Lois trotted out to the kitchen to grab a can of organic pumpkin puree off her cupboard shelf. She cracked it open with a hand opener and scooped out big handfuls of the gooey, fragrant fall squash out to lather all over her scalp. She’d read recently in one of her women’s magazines that both sweet potato and pumpkin could help moisturize an irritated scalp and in turn, promote healthy hair growth. She hurried back to her bathroom to yank her plastic shower cap with rubber duckies all over it snugly down on her head and stomped off to the living room to resume her daily scripture reading. Lois was prepared to leave the concoction on all night, if necessary. # When Lois awoke the next day, she was confused. At first she’d forgotten she’d left the shower cap on her head, and she couldn’t make an immediate association between the pumpkin smell and the present. She hadn’t slept through until Thanksgiving, had she? Last time she checked; it had been August. Then she remembered, chuckling to herself. Lois put some coffee on and proceeded to run a nice hot shower to wash her hair. Surely this treatment could only help. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the steam and heat of the water, breathing deep. She’d been sure to put the rubber drain catcher on, so she didn’t end up with a clogged tub. She rinsed the pumpkin out of her hair and proceeded to lather up with a moisturizing coconut shampoo-conditioner combo that should help as well. After she’d turned off the water and reached for the towel on the wall rack, her eyes were squinted shut to keep from any residual shampoo soap from getting in them. She massaged her head and put the towel up to pat her face. When she took it away, her eyes opened to spot big clumps of her hair mixed in with the globs of wet pumpkin puree piled around the drain catcher. It looked positively disgusting, and Lois was horrified at the amount of hair she was staring at. She felt around her head and gasped. She almost slipped getting in her hurry to get out of the tub and open up the bathroom door. Normally, she would have left it shut and cleared her dry sinuses by breathing in the steam awhile longer. Now she just wanted to wipe down the mirror to get a better look, even if she was dreading what she might see. As she wiped the last of the steam away from the mirror, Lois almost burst out crying. The bald patches on either side of her temple had indeed gotten noticeably larger. Now it looked like the hair was beginning to thin and recede more in front where she’d once had a nice thick side part of bangs. Lois parted the hair, rubbing at the remaining strands as if to stretch it out longer or force it to grow. Maybe she should make an appointment with her dermatologist? Wasn’t that something suggested on one of the online forums she’d read, if this condition started to get more aggressive? Beyond upset, Lois stalked away from the mirror. Now her bottom lip started to quiver, and she was crying. It wasn’t fair! Why? Why her? No other female in the family had ever suffered from this problem! They all had wonderful, full heads of hair all the way to their graves. Lois bit her lip to stop a rare curse word from escaping her lips. She wondered if the dermatologist would be able to see her as an emergency. Usually that doctor was booked two months out. At the rate she was going, Lois might not have any hair left by then! Lois hunted through her wallet for the dermatologist’s card. She usually just saw him once a year to check for skin cancer. Although the dermatologist had last time recommended some strong, chemical-laden steroid creams to lather on Lois’ head, Lois had politely refused, stubbornly searching for natural remedies to deal with the psoriasis. It was her head after all--what would years of steroids eventually do if it seeped through her pores to her brain? As she waited for a human voice on the other end of the phone and pressed some buttons to message prompts, she glanced at her wall calendar for reference and tried to resist touching the bald spots on her head. It really made her angry. Bald?!? That was the last thing she should have to worry about in this cursed pandemic. “Hello, Dr. Deerhorn’s Dermatology, may I help you?” “Yes! Yes, this is Lois Strand. I’m a patient of Dr. Deerhorn’s.” “Well hello, Ms. Strand. How are you doing to- ” “I need to get in to see Dr. Deerhorn as soon as possible. It’s an emergency!” Lois stressed, cutting the annoyingly cheerful secretary off. Couldn’t she see the whole world was going to hell? Lois twisted a longer strand of side hair into a stressed, tight coil. “Alright, alright. What seems to be the problem, Ms. Strand?” the receptionist inquired politely, although a little less friendly this time. “My hair! It’s all falling out. I’m going bald almost overnight!” Lois was unable to keep the rising panic and dread shrill out of her voice. The young woman on the other end of the line probably thought she’d gone pandemic paranoid cuckoo. Instead the incessantly cheery woman laughed. “Oh yes! You’re not the only patient to call and report this. We’ve had quite a few appointments regarding this problem.” Why did she sound amused? It nearly enraged Lois and she had to take a very deep breath to keep from going full-on Church Lady from SNL on this nincompoop. “There have? How many? Has it happened to you?” she asked instead, sounding like a wacky conspiracy theorist. The dreadful, hateful woman who seemed to have no problems of her own had the audacity to laugh giddily again. “Oh no! Thank goodness, I haven’t. But I hear ya’, that would be a major bummer!” “It’s more than a bummer! It sounds like an epidemic! Can he get me in today?!!” Lois demanded, not feeling any less like laughing in her life. As the tight coil she’d been unconsciously pulling on snapped right off her head at the root, she stared with abject dread at the long, beautiful lost forever strand of her severed hair now wrapped uselessly around her index finger. “Well, let’s see. Dr. Deerhorn is mighty booked up right now. Nothing today. Is there a day you’d prefer?” “Have you not heard anything I’ve been saying? I need to see him as SOON AS POSSIBLE! IT’S AN EMERGENCY!” Lois shouted into the phone. For an unsettling moment, there was nothing but silence on the other end. Lois was fearful she’d pushed the keeper to Dr. Deerhorn’s appointments too far, and that wasn’t a smart thing to do under these circumstances. Especially when what hair she had left was entirely at their mercy. Surely the young woman knew this on some level. Lois attempted to recover. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just--so distressing you see. I’ve never had this problem before, and I don’t know what to do. Please help me.” She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer asking God’s forgiveness, just in case. After one more never-ending moment of silence the young woman answered curtly. “Let’s see. It looks like Dr. Deerhorn has something next Monday at 1 p.m. Would that work for you?” “Yes, yes. If that’s the earliest he has,” Lois answered greedily, feeling nauseous. It was only Tuesday. It felt so far away and yet... “Alright then Ms. Strand. I’ll put you down with a consultation with Dr. Deerhorn next Monday at 1:00.” “Oh thank you, thank you,” Lois gushed, feeling slightly human again. “I’m sorry I lost my temper. That’s not like me. It’s just this pandemic--it’s so stressful, you know?” Lois tried a forced little chuckle, hoping to better smooth things over with her gatekeeper. Ms. Cheery Pants could always find a reason to forget to add the appointment to the good doctor’s schedule and then feign innocence, of course. “Of course, Ms. Strand,” the young receptionist replied, tersely, certainly not sounding cheery anymore and not won over. For good measure she added with a hint of sarcasm, “If you’re feeling stressed, you might want to try some mediation. Stress if a major cause of hair loss. You have a good day now.” Before Lois had a chance to react or come back with a witty retort, she was hung up on. That little bitch! Unable to regain control of her wild, runaway temper, Lois hurled her landline receiver across the room so hard it hit the window pane and fell loudly to the floor, knocking the batteries right out of it. She hoped it would be alright. It was her one means of communication with the outside world left. # The days that led up to Lois’ appointment seemed to stretch on for miles. She was afraid to wash or even brush her hair, lest more come out. To try and stop herself from touching at it or scratching, she’d taken to wearing her white, spring church gloves all the time. It made turning the pages to the Bible a little tricky, but Lois considered a just punishment in a way. She’d lost her temper and called the young woman a bitch in her head. Now she had to work to read the words of the Lord. # The following Monday at Dr. Deerhorn’s office, Lois waited impatiently in the office. The receptionist and nurse had looked at her funny when she declined to remove her knit ski cap or long coat and gloves. It was sort of hot and stuffy. After what seemed like an eternity, Dr. Deerhorn entered the room. He also did a double take at her appearance. “Well, hello there, Lois. How are we feeling today?” Before waiting for her reply, he checked his chart where she’d filled in some questions. “Something about an itchy scalp.” “You could say that” said Lois, biting her tongue to keep from bursting out in inappropriate laughter. “Alright then. Let’s have a look, shall we?” He approached her expectantly, and she kept her mask on but slowly removed her hat. He jumped back so suddenly he almost fell over. Dr. Dearborn’s clipboard, papers, and pen clattered to the floor. He gasped, unable to censor himself. Lois asked him with a low growl, “So doctor, do you think you can help me?” Lois’ head was completely bald and a bright, angry red hue. Two demon’s horns poked out through the skin of each frontal lobe. She wasn’t sure any doctor could help her now. The Lord certainly couldn’t. At that, Lois did let loose with a decidedly evil cackle. #