Once I came upon a girl swinging in the park near my house. The late summer trees surrounded the playground like a cradle of leaves and the moon was half full. She wasn’t swinging very hard. She just swayed a bit to and fro over the ground, her feet tapping the wooden plank underneath that had been put there to obstruct the mud. Tap, tap, her feet went as she swung back and forth. She was smiling, her head slightly lowered, her eyes gazing at something on the ground. I climbed onto the swing next to her and said, “Hello.” “Hi,” she said, not looking at me. “Why are you smiling?” I asked her. “I don’t know.” “It’s kind of creepy,” I said. She shrugged. “I like being creepy.” “Why?” “It’s happy, but not proper happy,” she said. “Oh,” I said, confused. I turned my attention to the swing and concentrated on moving back and forth, my legs going up, and down, until my mind was empty and content. Then when I was done, I scraped my shoes against the ground until I was still. I got up. “Goodbye,” I said. “Bye,” she said. Days went by, and the leaves fell until the ground was a brilliant orange, and the branches were bare against the lamplit sky. Sometimes I’d pass and she wouldn’t be there. But sometimes, she’d be there, still smiling, a soft smile. I’d get on the swing next to her and we’d swing, not talking, just silently moving back and forth. Sometimes when I got into the feeling of it it would feel like time had stopped, or never existed, and I didn’t exist either. I was just a pendulum hanging from the metal rod above, separate from reality. One day I felt particularly bad but I still said “hello” to her as usual, and got onto my swing. I felt grumpy, and lonely. Why did she never talk? Why didn’t she ask me about my day? I was always here for her, wasn’t I? I suddenly felt frustrated by her quietness and her empty smile. “Stop smiling,” I said. “Why?” she said. “Stop it,” I said louder. “Why,” she said. “STOP SMILING,” I shouted, and like a crack on a cup of porcelain, her smile shivered and broke, and the tap, tapping of her feet on the wooden plank stopped. She stood up from the swing, her mouth opened ajar, her eyes unblinking, and the wooden plank under her feet creaked open like a door into the ground. A moaning began in her throat, low and unearthly, until it bellowed in my ears like the moaning of the wind. I didn’t like the sound. “Stop it,” I said. “Stop that at once.” “Daddy,” she said, “I’m sorry I broke it I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-” “Be quiet,” I said. “--sorry sorry sorry sorry” “Close your mouth,” I said, and wrapped my hands around her face, and tightened them to muffle the sound. When I opened my hands, I saw nothing but scraps of a cafeteria lunch fall onto the floor, and walls wherever I looked.


To visit a real oasis was number forty-nine on Kelly’s bucket list. This was an obtainable goal. She was pleased that she thought of putting it down. She didn’t write down pipe dream items, such as going to space or the moon. Sure, she would love to go but she wanted to achieve her goals and as many of them as possible in the short time she has left. “Sixty-one,” Kelly thought, “is that young or old?” She certainly feels young, especially when she plays doubles on the tennis courts. The sport makes her feel like she did in middle school; it keeps her young. Fifty-five is when one enters the senior demographic. Sixty-two is considered early retirement age and a senior citizen. Kelly retired at fifty-eight. In five months, she will be a full-fledge senior citizen. Now that is old. Kelly never did decide on answer her question as to whether sixty-one is young or old; it is unimportant. The important thing is to know time is valuable. The dream of seeing Earth from space is a fantasy, a time waster for her. A real desert oasis is manageable. Cottonwood Spring is a natural oasis in Twentynine Palms, California. Of course, it is almost two-thousand miles away from sunny Florida. Cottonwood Spring is in Riverside County. Kelly has an old friend Paul who lives there. He has his own law office. She is proud of him because she knew him when he was a car mechanic. He beat the statistics and made a good living for himself. She remembered him with fond memories. He had a great sense of humor and a big smile. He seemed to love just messing with people, just to mess with them. He had done it to her too. She wasn’t a cook. She followed recipes to the tee and could still mess up. There was a silly pizza recipe that called for the pepperoni to be placed under the cheese. Naturally, Paul insisted that he wanted his pepperoni on top of the cheese. Kelly didn’t understand. The recipe said under the cheese. Paul got the kids involved and they too wanted their pepperoni on top. Everyone had thought it was funny to mess with Kelly because she was such a stickler for the recipe. Those were some great times. Kelly so wished Liz and Paul had stayed together. Kelly wondered if Paul would see her, after all the years had gone by? Not because of him being a big shot lawyer but because she had done him wrong. He blamed the split with his wife Liz on her. Kelly had helped Liz move out. It had been a “Catch 22” situation for Kelly. Divorces are nasty, even when they are not nasty. Pick a side: her or him. Kelly had loved both, but Liz was her best friend. At times, Paul seemed to understand; then there were others when the hurt pained him so bad that he didn’t want to understand. Does time indeed heal old wounds? Kelly wanted to find out. For sure, the visit to see the oasis would include a visit to Paul’s law office. She wouldn’t try to see him at home with his new family. She had heard the new wife was insecure and jealous. The last thing Kelly would want to do is to cause problems for them. In addition, Kelly knew if she dropped in at his office, she could go through his secretary. It would give Paul the option of making time for her or not. Kelly wondered how Paul would receive Garret. It had been Kelly and Bob forever. Sadly, Bob passed away seven years ago. Garret and Bob’s personalities are completely different. Bob was fun and funny with everyone. He would joke and tease with a perfect stranger. Garret is more reserved until he knows you well. Going without Garret wasn’t option. He was her man now. Acceptance of him was a must. In addition, Garret had never even seen a desert much less an oasis. Kelly had been to the desert many times in her travels. However, she had never taken the time to see an oasis. Yes, Garret and her would go. For the bucket list trip, she wanted to experience the oasis. She didn’t want to do the touristy thing and just visit the visitors center where there should be sign declaring this is the “Cottonwood Spring Oasis.” She wanted to walk through the desert and build up a thirst. She wanted it to be night-time and let the sounds and lights of the oasis guide her there. She understood there were some dangers to walking through the dessert at night. Coyotes, bobcats, snakes, and scorpions to name a few of the threatening wildlife she could encounter. Dehydration could be a factor too. The little bit of fear excited her. Number forty-nine: oasis would have to wait another two years for Garret to retire. His dream was to buy a large camper and a heavy-duty pickup truck and see the country. Kelly loved this idea. She had traveled a lot for work but not vacationed as much as she had wanted. Her life had been lived in the fast lane. It was time to slow down, take in, and reflect on the world. As Kelly continued to dream, she added a fiftieth entry into the Bucket List book. It was to become a published author. Then she thought the entry was too vague. Anyone with the Internet can publish. She was reminded of a Denzel Washington YouTube video of a commencement speech, where he called for people to dream big. She erased “become a published author” and wrote, “become an author on the New York Times’ best-selling list.” Finally, she returned to her unanswered question: is sixty-one young or old? She thought about many of the witty quotes on age that were designed more to make one smile than think. She quickly discounted them. She moved on to think about space and time. Einstein said, “Space and time were inextricably linked.” Her question should be, “Is she contracting or expanding?” Just like the universe, she knew without a doubt that she was expansion stage of life. Kelly was joyful. “Funny,” she thought, “she felt larger than she ever had before.” Kelly closed the Bucket List book and headed to bed for the night.


Some other days they all thought it was over. Some other weeks any chance to reunite seemed invisible, impossible and unthinkable. Black! Dark! Black and dark was his heart. Red! Red but not like wine was her heart; because she was bleeding. She was bleeding pain from inside. Not many people knew, but she missed him every second, every minute and every eternity spent in a single day. He loves her; the first girl he ever knew. She loves him the first boy she ever loved so hard. They both remember how beautiful it was back then, how they use to fight and laugh. They probably never knew how strong the tie was, but they felt deep in them that the tie would hold them together for life. His sister. Her brother. He was far from her, she missed him. Two continents! See the ocean separated one form another’s love. Funny fact: [what they cried is even bigger than that ocean.] But they never lost hope even if sometimes they pushed it away. Just too normal for people of flesh. As the day always comes back after the night it was meant for them to meet again, to touch again, to hug again, to smile again, and hold hands again after a long time apart. Almost ten long and hard years. What a painful separation. Here they are, trying to understand what they have missed, she sees how bigger and taller than her he has become. She left when he was so small, so young as she said, he was just a little brother. He sees how small his sister seems as she was way bigger than him back then before they separated. She tries to understand how her brother’s face has got beard on his cheeks and chin; he understands that his sister is a mother now and he is then an uncle. What a big difference ten years can be in a lifetime! They promised to brother and sister’s love that life will not do them apart again. Yes, Life will not do us apart again sister. <<I hated every single minute away from you>> She said. <<Men are not allowed to cry but I did when I could not hold the pain that it was>> he said. As they are sitting, facing each other, trying to get to recognize the faces that they see now, she cries. But this time she is happy, driven by thousands of emotions that she feels at that particular moment. He says she will be fine. Him : Can we even catch back on ten long years? Impossible right? Her: I don’t know but I sure know I will do my best to make this seem like we never went apart. Him: If bodies are far but love from hearts is still, we are never too far from one another. In the unseen universe, we were still holding hands. Me holding my big sister’s hand. Her: I love you! Him: I love you too yaya ( yaya means big sister/brother, from where they come from ). Time to get new habits, life behind the phone is over, no more video calls, now they are face to face. He forgot how good she cooked, so he tastes her food again, and again, and again as he finds back in her way of cooking, the making of their mother. How beautiful! Family! All we need, all we have to handle as well. She is not that easy of a sister, she likes to tease him. Even if he is twenty three years old now and she's twenty six, they are still the same old brother and sister’s couple that was seven and ten. She fights him when he is bored. She wants to know who got his heart. She asks him every time “where is your girlfriend?” He looks at her, he smiles and he says “chill, I will present her to you when it is time”. Then she adds “You always say that then we never see her. You hide too much of your life from me. I am your sister I need to know who you are dating or seeing”. He smiles again as he doesn’t talk a lot. She is proud, you can see it, you can feel it. As if she is learning to love her brother again like when he was born. The love of a sister, is there anything truer than that except the one from a mother? We are yet to find. And not even every mother love their own kids (reference: Veronique Courjault). She gets familiar with his writing, she loves his movies, she loves to watch them and see him acting, she goes to his game to see him play football. Football from where they are from. When people meet her in the streets, she says, with a great smile: this is my brother. But what happened for them to separate? Life happened. When you are born in a country, in a continent that is house of struggle, where corruption kills talents, opportunities and possibilities of a bright future, your best way to succeed is to get out of there. She had to leave her country and family to rejoin her father in Europe. I could have said half sister but they never called themselves half. They fully love each other, completely. She went when she was so young. He stayed! Time went by until it was his time to leave. But not going to see his sister, not in Europe as her but in the U.S. His big faith in God made him go. As he was told by God himself, that he shall go. Both of them too far, experienced difficulties of getting papers and right to travel again, struggling to be accepted as migrants in countries they never thought they would live in someday. How could they make it easy to reunite if it is not by making it rich? So he worked! He worked hard, he duplicated himself as a picture in your gallery to do everything he could possibly do. Each part of him handling at least two things. But his trust in God and God's promises mixed, made a way to success. He made it as we say. And he flew to go see his mom, his sister, his nephew and his little brother. They held hands once, then love held them until they held hands again.


MY FIRST CRUSH EVER was on this girl named "Jane Lastname". I was only about ten years old when I first met her. Her older brother played goalie for my older brother's hockey team. They played together for a few seasons, and Jane would be at every game. Over time, her and my younger sister became pretty good friends. She was a couple years older than my sister though, and that put her closer in age to me. So, over time, I became friends with her too. And I liked her. I remember pretending that I didn't like her, and teasing her, and doing all the dumb things that little boys do when they first start developing feelings that they don't understand...but I liked her. Alas, after years of friendship, when I was about twelve and a half, the time came for our brothers to move on and play for separate teams. And that was it. I never saw Jane again. Until... JANE FROM FOREVER AGO A Love Story I was seventeen years old. I had just begun my senior year in high school. I was unjustifiably confident, sorta cute in an awkward way, perpetually stoned, and just basically happy. It was Friday night. My friend, Rob, had just picked me up to head out to a party. The party was at a house in the big city, which was about a thirty minute drive from our small town. I didn't really know the person having the party, but Rob was going there to meet up with some chick, and he had asked me go with him. I had agreed because I liked parties. We arrived at the house. It was on a quiet street in a pretty nice neighborhood. However, as soon as we walked inside; we were met with chaos. The place was packed. That song, Mr. Brightside by The Killers, was blasting super loud, and kids were dancing everywhere. Rob and I quickly found a couple of drinks, met a few people, and started having a pretty good time. Eventually, Rob met up with his girl, and they sorta disappeared on me. It was cool though. I had started playing a drinking game with some dudes, and I hardly noticed he was gone. After the game, a few guys invited me to get high, and I followed them outback. There was a bonfire going on, and we all sat down around it. As we were smoking, a couple more groups of people came out and joined us by the fire. I figured I should introduce myself to some of these new people, so I stood up and said, "Hey guys, I'm...." "IAN!!" I spun around to see who had somehow successfully guessed my name. That's when I saw her. It had been years, but I still instantly recognized her. It was Jane Lastname, my old childhood crush. She was standing there, smiling ear to ear. And she looked absolutely amazing. She had grown up to become super, super hot. Before I even had a chance to say anything, she ran right up to me and gave me a giant hug. I was practically in a state of shock and could only manage to utter a simple, "Hey." "Oh my god! Ian! You probably don't even remember me! My name's Jane Lastname! Our brothers used to play hockey together. I had the biggest crush on you growing up!" I didn't know what to say. Of course I remembered her. I hadn't thought about her in forever, but I certainly hadn't forgotten about her. She was the first girl I had ever like-liked. She was the first girl I had ever tried to look nice for. She was the first girl I had ever wanted to do mouth stuff with. And now here she was, looking just unbelievably beautiful, and saying she used to have a crush on me too. This was officially the highlight of my life up until this point. I decided to just do my best to try and play things cool. "Oh, wow, Jane Lastname. Of course I remember you. How have ya been?" "I've been great! How have you been? How's your sister?!" "I've been good. She’s good. How's your brother, Jason? Is he still playing hockey?" "No, he gave that up a long time ago. He's actually going to school to become a vet." "Oh. That's weird. I thought you had to go to war to become a vet." Jane laughed. "No, silly. A veterinarian." "Oooh. That makes more sense. I just don't get why you didn't say kitty doctor." Jane laughed again. We sat down next to the bonfire and continued catching up. We talked about all the fun we used to have together at the hockey rink. We talked about all that had changed in our lives over the last five or so years. We talked about our families, and our friends, and our pets. We talked about everything. The minutes turned to hours with the two of us just lost in conversation. This crazy ass party kept going on around us, but it was like we were off in our own little world. I really liked talking to her too. She was funny, but even more importantly; she really seemed to find me funny. And I really liked making her laugh. She'd flash this little smile every time she started laughing, and it was just like the prettiest thing ever. It would send fireworks shooting around inside of me every time I saw it. We had been talking for over two hours straight when we were finally interrupted by one of Jane's friends. She stumbled over to us and started complaining to Jane about having to pee. Jane admitted she had to go to the bathroom as well, and told her friend she'd accompany her inside. But before she got up; she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. Then she whispered in my ear, "Don't move. I'll be right back." My heart was racing as I watched Jane and her friend head into the house. It really felt like there was something magical between us. A dude sitting on the other side of me tapped me on the shoulder to offer me a joint. I accepted it; and I started looking around at this giant party I had been ignoring. There were now an insane amount of kids there. And then, all of a sudden, out of like completely nowhere, about half of them shouted, "CCCOOOPPPPSSSSSS!!!!!" Sirens and flashing lights filled the air while kids scrambled in every direction. I just momentarily froze next to the fire with the joint in my mouth. Finally, my brain caught up to what was happening, and I decided that I should probably fucking run. So I jumped up and took off. I ran through at least two neighboring yards and then finally leapt behind a little bush. From where I hid, I could still see the back of the party house. And I watched as the cops chased around the unlucky kids. I sat behind my trusty little bush, watching and waiting for the cops to leave. Then, suddenly, I heard something much scarier than the sound of a siren. I heard a small rustling of leaves. It was coming from inside my trusty little bush. I looked closer. Then I spotted two little eyes staring back at me. And I FREAKED THE FUCK OUT! Once again, I was up and running. Only this time, I wasn't fearing some dumb underage drinking ticket. I was fearing being murdered by a horrifying, bloodthirsty, bush-dwelling creature. So the running didn't stop. I just kept on going. I probably ran for a good twenty minutes through random yards until I was positive there were no monsters chasing me. I eventually did force myself to stop running. Kinda because I knew I was being a giant pussy, and kinda because I was just completely out of breath. It was at this point that I realized two things: The first, was that I somehow still had that joint in my mouth. I had apparently neglected to ditch it during my entire chaotic escape. And that was pretty cool. But the second thing I realized, was that I had no idea where I was, no idea how far I'd just run, and no idea how to get back to the party. And that was significantly less cool. I took a brief moment to survey my surroundings. I deduced that my panicked sprinting had luckily maintained somewhat of a straight line. So it didn't take me too long to make it back out to the road that I was positive the party was on. It was pretty late by this point, and there were no cars to be seen in either direction. So I figured I'd just follow the road until I made it back. I lit my joint back up and began walking down the dark and lonely street. I prayed Rob hadn't left the party yet since he was my only ride home. But even more so; I prayed Jane would still be there. I wasn't ready for our reunion to be cut short like this. I really wanted to see where things might be going between us. I kept thinking about her as I continued my surprisingly long walk underneath the stars. I had always believed in that silly notion of "true love". That there was like one perfect person out there for everybody. A "soulmate". And now, I'm not saying that I thought Jane was my soulmate or anything. That'd be crazy. This was the first time I had seen her in forever. But still, I just had this weird feeling that maybe she COULD be my soulmate. I mean, who knows, right? I had been walking now for quite some time, but I still hadn't made it back to the party. Just then, I noticed a set of headlights approaching in the distance. I quickly tossed my everlasting joint fearing that it may be one of the cops that initially caused this whole mess. However, as the vehicle came closer, it began flashing its headlights, and I realized it wasn't a cop car. It was a Rob car. And the Rob inside looked super fucking pissed. He pulled over and immediately began shouting at me through his lowered window. "DUDE! WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN ALL NIGHT?!?!" "Oh, hey, man. Umm. There was an incident with a monster." "What?! What the fuck are you talking about? How stoned are you? Get in the god damn car!" I climbed in and began to explain to Rob about being by the bonfire when the cops showed up, and then hiding in the neighbor's yard, and then encountering a mysterious beast, and then running like a madman throughout the neighborhood. I continued to explain that we now had to return to the party so that I could meet back up with Jane... And that's when my heart broke. Rob explained that, not only was the party on a "completely different fucking road", but also that everybody there had been forced to leave. And that he'd been driving around trying to find me because some dude said I stole his joint and took off running when the cops arrived. And lastly, that there had been a girl looking everywhere for me as the party emptied out. But she had eventually given up and left. I was devastated. I tried getting Rob to drive back just to be certain Jane was gone, but he assured me that he had watched her leave. He said she had asked him and a bunch of other people if any of them knew where I was; but nobody did. So, she got into a car and left with her friends. He then made a comment about her being super, super hot. And I just felt like crying. The rest of the ride home from that party was brutal. I kept going over everything that had happened in my head. My old childhood crush had suddenly walked back into my life; only to then walk right back out of it even faster. And worst of all, I apparently still really liked her. And I think she really liked me too. But now none of that mattered. Because I was afraid of monsters. And she was gone forever. Or so I thought.


“Hold on, Karla.” The woman stood back as her colleagues filed out of the status meeting. “Sit,” Roger said. “Goodbye, Jamie!” He waved at the smiling face on the television that vanished at the click of a button. Karla sat quietly. Roger wiped up a few water rings on the table and joined her at its head. “This isn’t working out.” Karla felt her mouth fall open, but no reply was forthcoming. “I’ve given this a lot of thought. I really think you and the company should part ways. This will be your last day.” “You’re not going to offer me any chance to improve?” she asked. “This is totally out of the blue. You only had glowing things to say in my performance review!” Roger straightened the tray of succulents. “That was ten months ago. If I had to do your next review today, things would be much different. You’ve picked up some bad... habits.” Karla pushed back her chair and stood up, wagging a finger in her boss’ face. “WHAT IS IT? WHY ARE YOU MAD AT ME ALL OF A SUDDEN? I BROUGHT IN MORE BUSINESS THIS QUARTER THAN ANYONE, AND YOU’VE GOT A PROBLEM WITH ME AND NOT THAT LOUDMOUTH, DYLAN?” “Please sit down,” Roger said, unphased, “or I’ll call security, and this conversation will be over.” Karla slumped into her chair. “Thank you. That outburst is only the most recent example of your anger management issues.” She awkwardly fought to roll her chair closer to Roger. “YOU WANT TO SEE ANGER?” “No. Anger is not a professional behavior. You are one of our best salespeople, but your attitude is devastating to morale.” Karla raised another accusatory finger. “Karla....” Roger adjusted his tone to that of lion tamer. “Let me finish. In the meeting just now, you said disparaging things about four of your teammates. Jerome was hurt so deeply, he had to excuse himself.” “So, why didn’t YOU call me out?” Karla asked, seething. “Help me learn right then instead of keeping me after class like a kid who stole someone’s crayons?” “My preference is to hold coaching conversations in private.” “Coaching? You’re FIRING me!” “Coaches kick players off teams all the time. Before we go any further, I’m willing to give you a second chance, but I need to know two things. First, are you willing to get help?” “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Roger shook his head. “That’s less than encouraging, Karla. Second, I’d like to know where things went wrong. Why the sudden change? We have resources available to help our employees overcome all sorts of obstacles, be it addiction resources, mental health counseling, or general therapy.” Karla’s eyes wandered to her wrist. She was twisting a bracelet obsessively. “You really want to know?” “Yes,” Roger said. Her attention turned to the table. “It’s because SNITCHES LIKE JAMIE KEEP LURKING ON CONFERENCE CALLS, SO THEY CAN GET ALL THE GOSSIP. NEXT THING YOU KNOW, SHE’S SHOOTING OUT THE NEWS OF THE DAY TO A LISTSERV THAT’S GOT TWO HUNDRED SUBSCRIBERS!” Karla picked up the half-dead succulents and hurled them across the room, missing the television but hitting the camera. She leaned toward the microphone on the table. “YEAH, JAMIE! I KNOW ABOUT YOUR LITTLE SECRET. HALEY FORWARDED WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT ME. WE ALL KNOW YOU’RE ‘JILLYJILLY.’ THE PHONE NEVER BLOOPED.


Would you offer your throat to the wolf. These were the words that formed the written part of the Crest which was displayed above the entrance to the, well what could be seen as a castle but Nick maintained it was just the families country residence. It is always with trepidation that you meet your new love interests parents and family. Lucy had been dating Nick a little over two months and things had been going so well. Lucy had been on a girls break in Aberdeenshire at a spa and they had taken an evening off from the healthy and decided to try out the local pub which was just down in the village. The wolf and prey such a sweet endearing name she thought to herself. Despite the morbid name it was in fact a nice friendly place with a great fun atmosphere. Lucy was just sitting with the girls when Nick came in through the door. He had the most beautiful auburn eyes she had ever seen and a mop of dark brown curls which fell around his shoulders. His eyes she thought almost seemed red when the light caught them. She caught his eye as he walked past and smiled and to her amazement he smiled back at her. "Oh my god" exclaimed katy, not even quietly Lucy thought. "He is lush Lucy ,I saw you checking him out". Lucy wanted the floor to open up she saw him looking around as Katy spoke. "What are you doing he might have heard you?". "It's fine you worry to much". And so they continued their conversation and Lucy was was watching him as he went to the bar and he turned and caught her looking at him and started to move towards the group of girls. And the rest as they say is is history. She was nervous about meeting his family although he was very down to earth and yet had a very fierce and raw side to him he loved being outdoors and especially loved evenings under the stars and they had many late night picnics, which she also enjoyed as she was quite a night time person so it was a joint passion. When they entered the "castle" she was amazed at how unkempt it was almost as though it had been in the family for hundreds of years but not been changed one bit in all the time. Nick's parents met her as they walked in with open arms and an endearing attitude. "It is wonderful to meet you at, we do not always have the pleasure of meeting Nick's young ladies we hear about them and then they tend to disappear from sight, so we are very happy to meet you". His mother said with a smile and the a hug. "Its my pleasure to meet you as well". Lucy smiled as she shook their hands. After a tour of the beautiful and gothic home they sat to eat and then had drinks buy the beautiful stone fireplace it was so romantic she thought to herself. It was Autumn and that was her favourite time of the year, the beautiful golden trees and the blanket of gold leaves embellished the ground and that discernible smell at this time of the year that was always in the air. The wood fires burning, it moved her so much and of course the always beautiful harvest moon, which always seemed bigger and more present. "Shall we take a walk tomorrow it is the full harvest moon and I can show you all the grounds, the lake and the family crypt if you like, it is a bit creepy and at the same time quite beautiful ". Nick asked her. "I would love" that she explained. "I honestly think that I am something of a goth at heart it is amazing how much I am drawn to the eerie side of life". "Perfect that is tomorrow evening sorted". "I do hope we get to see you after your walk, don't disappear on us" Nick's father asked jokingly. Lucy thought how different these people and this place were to her own crazy family. Nick came down to meet them first before meeting his family. Her father was very open and friendly he was so called man if the house but not at all in a misogynistic way but her mother ran everything and was a very strong protective character especially where Lucy was concerned she was fiercely protective of her daughter and there were only certain sorts of boys she would entertain as being "good enough " for her daughter. She said she had a nickname for Lucy, "Lupus" it was it had a deep meaning that only she understood. But as things were her mother totally approved of Nick making him very welcome and to Lucy's horror one night claimed he would make a good mate. So the next day Lucy and Nick spent the day at his parents castle and come the evening of the harvest moon they got set to take the walk of the grounds .The kitchen staff enquired to his parents what should they put together for the picnic. Lucy said anything that had meant in she loved her meat although she was never quite ok with how animals were treated In the process she lived her meat. And so they set off around the grounds it was a beautiful place somewhat haunting and misty. As the evening went on she felt that Nick was becoming a little edgy and uncomfortable as the harvest moon was rising and they were walking around the crypt. "Is everything ok Nick?". She asked concerned at his irritability. "Yes I'm am fine just feeling a bit on edge tonight not many of my lady friends share this with me I do hope your not to scared or freaked out by this place?." "Not at all I love it and the moon is almost at its highest it is so beautiful and bright tonight." He sat her on a stone wall that ran along the outside of the crypt, would you just wait here I have something to reveal to you?" he said "and I do hope it will not scare you away from me." "Of course not a problem don't be long I am so hungry right now?." "Me too". He smiled and disappeared into the crypt. "When he returned Lucy was not where he had left her, the food was open from the picnic and torn up and dispersed all over the floor, he shouted for her but there was no reply and he started to panic as to what might of happened to her Then he heard a low growl coming from behind the crypt he thought there maybe an animal of some sort but there were some foxes around therse parts and deer but no wolves to his knowledge. Then the growling became louder and deeper and as he turned he was standing in front of the biggest wolf he had ever seen mostly because it was standing upon its hind feet. He cowered back and fell against the wall where he had left Lucy and as the creature stood over him drooling and bearing its yellow teeth he called out Lucy's name as if to reassure himself she was still alive. Then to his horror the creature spoke. "I am here Nick". Nick's parents received a letter say he was moving down south with Lucy and he would be in touch but not to worry everything was fine . At the back of Lucy's garden there were several kennels and as she walked down to the biggest and newest cage she knelt down and said good morning Nick as rubbed the nose of the newest arrival. A big husky looking dog that was as big as a wolf.


Today's tale is one of importance. Alikast as beautiful and adventure filled as it may be is not unrealistic. There are many problems that go on in this w orld that go unseen by many. Turin was dealing with the hurricane that devastated part of their coast and Breter. preparing for war against its neighbor region Artis. This tale of change takes place in Artis. A large village within this region called Esterville is the home to many. Those who live in this village are ruled under a noble. Though the region they are inhabiting is preparing for war. Esterville is going through a massive controversy over their partly beloved noble. This noble being a beautiful young female who just recently came to rule over Esterville. A few months after she took the place as noble of this village she announced something that would change this town and possibly the continent forever. This girl's name was Taliah. "Trev- I mean uh Taliah!" a voice said shaking the young Taliah awake. Taliah was of fair skin and beautiful long brunette hair. Hearing her name being shouted while she was sleeping wasn't a surprise to her anymore since it's been her daily life since forever. Though this morning she had a smile on her face when awoke. She slowly got up from her bed to look at her caretaker. A middle aged woman named Elaine. She's been Taliah's caretaker since the day she was born and loved doing her job. "Good morning Elaine" Taliah said still with a smile. Her and Elaine had a wonderful relationship and quite enjoyed each other's company. Though sometimes they get on each other's nerves because Taliah is a teenager and sometimes acts recklessly. Elaine tries her best to keep Taliah in check from her wild and eccentric habits but when she can't she scolds the young noble. After saying good morning Taliah got out of bed and went instantly downstairs. Her daily routine was getting up and going straight to the kitchen for her breakfast. It was her favorite meal of the day because she got to spend her time eating with her mother and of course Elaine. Though recently ever since she had made her announcement Taliah's mother no longer came to eat breakfast with her. She never came to eat any meals anymore. Now it was just her and Elaine. A sad sight to see for the other workers in the house. Though Taliah tried to keep it out of her thoughts everyone could tell it was slowly causing Taliah's heart to break. She was a noble though. Keeping up her facade of faint happiness was something she was good at. Taliah sat down at the table and her breakfast was already in front of her. The family chef makes it every morning right before her daily wake up that way she can eat it right away. All the workers were quite fond of Taliah. She was a sweet girl who cared about everyone and everything and wouldn't ever let something get in the way of what she thought was right. They've had trouble adjusting after the announcement but they're trying their best. Taliah appreciates all the effort they've put in to making her the happiest she can be. Being a noble is hard though. The work given is a lot and recently people don't really seem to be coming to the noble for the help they need instead are trying to fix it on their own which is causing more issues within this village. People have started to move and some have even threatened riots. Taliah's mother though not throwing a fit was definitely not supportive of her daughter as of late and left. "Young MIstress, you need to see this” Elaine called out from the other room. Taliah hearing this rushed to eat her food and darted to the foyer of the manor. As she ran in she saw her lovely caretaker holding an envelope. An envelope from her mother it would seem. On the front hastily scribbled read out “*Dear Trevor*.” Seeing this the young noble lost all the joy she had from this morning. Her face went neutral. She opened up the letter. Being the rebellious teenager that she is and trying to make some sort of statement she read the letter aloud. *Dear Trevor,* *It is in my best interest to leave Esterville for good. I do not approve of you being a female especially when you are not one. Most of the townsfolk do not seem to approve of this either. For that reason I will be taking my leave and heading elsewhere. I would also like for you to know that I no longer think of you as family and will not be returning unless this phase of yours ends. Good luck with Esterville.* *Goodbye.* Tears started flowing down Lady Taliah's face. Her mother didn't accept her for who she was and didn't want anything to do with her. So much so she denounced herself as being her mother. A fate which none had hoped for had come to life. Elaine hearing this rushed and pulled the young noble into her arms. This hurt for both of them. Elaine couldn't stand seeing her young mistress cry and Taliah had lost the only family she had left. After a few moments Taliah pulled back and wiped the tears from her face. She walked to her guards in the front of her manor and told them to request an audience at 1p.m. at the front of her balcony. Doing so the two left in a hurry to gather the whole town for another announcement. Then running upstairs she grabbed a pen and paper and started writing furiously. She had so much to say to so many people and she was going to. Hours had gone by when the time had finally come. The audience she had requested are in front of her balcony waiting for her approach. Some didn't show but most did. Those who had accepted her from the very start were excited to see what direction she was going to take the village. Those who didn't were hoping that she would say that this entire thing was a joke or a misunderstanding of some sort. Either way people were there and that's all she needed. Walking out onto the balcony she stared down at the citizens of her town. A population of 19,912. There were immense numbers of people staring up at her. All chatting and wondering what was going on. At which point the young noble spoke up. "Citizens of Esterville! First and foremost I would like to talk about the other day" Taliah started off her speech. She went on this long rant about who she was and how she was good enough and didn't need to be accepted by those who didn't like it. She was happy with who she was. This was not going to stop her. Many had smiles on their faces seeing this. Some of which decided to talk about who they were even if who they were wasn't widely accepted. Those who didn't accept this started to yell and raise their fists. Taliah however wasn't done. "Secondly! A new law will be passing, discrimination against others is something that is going to happen! But here in Esterville you are free to be whoever you like!" Taliah went on about the law and how it would affect this village. People started to get increasingly angry but the guards were all on Taliah's side and were handling any sort of mob that was starting to form. It was a happy day for Esterville. A day were discrimination though it wouldn't end would hopefully start to decrease. Taliah pulled out her last piece of paper from the bottom of the pile and read it to the citizens. "Lastly! I, Taliah Remming will be stepping down as noble of this village and will be declaring Miss Elaine as the head of this manor" She put the paper down and looked softly at her caretaker. Her caretaker at this point crying and trying not to implode from all these different emotions hugs the young noble. The two wave at the citizens of Esterville and then Taliah walks back inside. She packs her bags and writes a final note to everyone *Dear Everyone* *Thank you for everything. I'm going to go for a while. It's time to finally find my father. Take care.* *Love, Taliah.* Leaving the note behind with a little heart on the front of it she leaves from the back of the manor on an adventure to find her father and change the world.


Hi all, I am new to this. I am not sure at how well I did at this so please bear with me. This will probably be in 3rd person or basically not 1st person so if that makes it hard to read please let me know and I can easily make changes, any and all feedback is helpful. I am not trying to make anything of this other than it just seems interesting to me and I felt like I had to write it down. Intro After centuries of being divided and at a constant state of war with each other, the nations of Earth finally decided to unite themselves. This came following several world war scares that would have resulted in the destruction of the entire planet. In the year 2046, the United States, Russia, China, UK and France all send members from their countries to begin the colonization of Mars, this comes after almost a decade of preparing the planet for colonization. After several decades of unforeseen advancements in technology, no doubt due to the never before seen world wide cooperation, Earth makes its first space craft capable of battle in space. Dreadnoughts, cruisers, battleships, all each with their unique purpose begin being developed, as if Earth knew there was a foe out there that would threaten them at some point. The year is 2112, after almost 60 years of colonization, the planet of Mars is being terraformed. The native colonists of Mars declare their independence from Earth and establish themselves as the first independent human nation not from Earth. 2118 - After over 100 years of sending signals into deep space in hopes of hearing a response from an alien species, the people of Earth hear back from a group of alien specie's who call themselves the Agel Empire. They briefly share some information about each other and their history, before the Agel write them off as too weak to join them, claiming the human race is too weak and not advanced enough to serve our cause. Fueled by blunt comments the people of Earth and Mars go into another state of extreme technological advancement. Their advancement, as well as the booming population of the human race on Earth, causes Earth to seek out other countries for resources. One of the best candidates is a planet called Thesulia, a baren planet, but rich in resources. After many years of testing, Earth sends research drones to investigate the planet. Their suspicions about the planet being rich in resources they need are confirmed, but they find out that the planet is actually suitable for life. Although not an ideal place for colonization, Earth determines that the planet is more suitable than Mars was during the early stages of its colonization phase. 2134 - The planet of Thesulia has been successfully colonized and has been flourishing. The capital of Thesulia, Minona, flourishes as the mining industry brings in millions upon millions of revenue to the city. A few decades go by, the year is now 2152, A distress beacon gets activated from Minona, the capital of Thesulia. The military of earth dispatches a cruiser and two battleships as a response team to respond to the distress beacon. They do not think much of the distress beacon, Afterall there wasn't much information relayed to them back on Earth. Earth sends the small fleet, under the command of a young up and coming captain, Audie Lancaster. Captain Audie Lancaster is one of the youngest and brightest Captains in Earth's Navy. Having just been promoted to the position of Captain, this mission will serve as his first true test of his abilities as a leader, his first mission as captain.  If you guys like this I will make this a regular thing, please keep in mind this is the Intro I haven't really done much with this yet, I am just seeing how this will do and will go from there. I will make another post soon, hope you guys enjoyed.


First of all i made this in 4th grade i'm in 10th now if this gets ten upvotes i'll upload the second part too his story PANDEMIC Made in the 4th-grade chill BY: Lack Hoppmann John Rockwell ran down the sidewalk. Earbuds in his ears, listening to his favorite playlist on Spotify. He is getting ready to play in his part of the Olympic Games. he is an American pole vaulter. It looks exactly like what it sounds like. Why did John want to be an Olympic pole vaulter? How would I know? I’m just the narrator! Well, let’s get back to the story now... John soon decides to head to his apartment room soon with his 4 very annoying yet humorous colleagues. He takes a seat on a bench and reaches for his bag. He leans over to a nearby bench where a man wearing a suit is sitting. “You got knives?,'' John said in his strong Texan accent. The man shrugged his shoulders and walked off. John decided he did not like Rio. It was almost too wet and sticky. Yet it still had a sort of charm to it that old Texas sure didn't have. So John ate his lunch calm and quietly. Then off he went to his apartment. .................................. Screaming. All you could hear was screaming. It wasn't happy screaming, angry screaming, or even just the crazy screams of the Brazilian people. It was competitive screaming. Like how your mom would yell at you at your first baseball game. No matter how many people were there it felt like it was Johns moment. His alone. He had many thoughts of what was going to happen. Suddenly his impulses told him to not go into the bottom rows. Though he wanted to see his longtime friend Marco. Marco was the flag holder. aka the most exciting job until it's over and then you're fired. John had chills in his body. He was amazed by what he saw on TV before the bus came to get him and his team. About 2 weeks ago the world was dumbfounded with the discovery of a sort of base in Moscow. Apparently, that was supposedly created just 28 years before now. ................................. As John was watching the Venezuelan team came out and started to celebrate. Then John let out a gasp, as one of the Olympians started collapsing and coughing up blood. The startlingness of the moment caused John to faint. ...................... As John awoke from the short coma he couldn't feel his body. Even though there was running and shouting he could not hear. It was as if he had been shot with a dart. As he got up and started wobbling like a Russian doll. He could then start to faintly hear what sounded like a siren. When John saw a Brazilian couple holding the emergency door open he darted towards them like a bullet and he got through just in time. When he reached outside it seemed as if the world was ending. Helicopters landing with little to no carefulness when it came to the landing. women and children screaming. John recognized one of his acquaintances, a nice track runner named Alex. He ran over to Alex and was wondering why he had a blanket wrapped around him and it seemed like he was screaming. John ran over to him and was going to ask what was going on but as he was walking over Alex turned to John. John stumbled back and yelled, ̈ Woah Woah! Back away! ̈ Alex was looking like a zombie. Yellow eyes, bloody mouth, pale skin. It all seemed too real to John. Alex started stumbling toward John and as Alex yelled out, black liquid splashed from his mouth. John faintly heard the giant boom of a bus and started running towards it. Dodging Gooers as he started to call them. When he got on it was chaos. People accusing and aggravated by the situation. As he sat down the bus went into full power as the driver screamed, ̈ We are heading to the Airport!! ̈ John now felt as if he was safe. He relaxed thinking if he would ever see his family again. ................................ The traffic in the streets was horrible as Atlanta. As John looked out the window he saw planes landing and helicopters flying overhead as they stopped at the airport entrance. They soon got out and ran to the nearest station to buy tickets. As we got inside the siren started. It meant pandemic. The airport employees were soon telling us to go into where the men with biohazard suits were. We walked over and we were sprayed with white spray. We were escorted to an airplane and we boarded it. I looked outside as we initiated liftoff and the city looked as if it had just had a parade. People running everywhere and what I could only assume was the Gooers walking around either asking for help or dying from what I could only assume was a deadly disease. Later once I had landed and gotten back to Austin I rested and composed myself. When I got back I was surprised to learn that my wife, Hannah had become pregnant. On the news, it was said that the situation is under control but half of the population of Rio was killed and hopefully it will never happen again. John soon got back into pole jumping as he was so very scared by the moment that he couldn't go outside for 2 weeks. Now the world is in Peace. The End....


The train to Oliver Junction is never late. Not once has it ever been late. Something to be proud of if you’re a train. Or a conductor. Whoever is in charge of all that. You can set your watch by it. We put your grandfather on that train. When we did, he was in much worse shape than you are now. They say some things skip a generation. I suppose that could be so. I thought I got lucky. Anytime you think you’re lucky, you’re blind. That’s how life goes for people like us. We live by the water and the shine from the sun gets in our eyes. Hurts us when the time comes to see what we got to contend with in this world. You wear the hat your mother made you? She was worried you’d be cold. I told her it doesn’t get cold where you’re going. Nice and warm there. She still wanted you to have it. I want you to know that we forgive you for all the things you said when you were angry. Until I was ten-years-old, I thought they poured hatred right into those brown bottles, because every time my father would drink from them, out would come the vitriol. Nastiness and pettiness and all things he’d beg to be forgiven for later. Most of the time I could forgive him, but on a certain occasion, he slapped my little sister across the face. Even when he was on his deathbed begging, I had a hard time absolving him of that. Or the memory of that. By then, your aunt was long gone. She inherited all the family demons. They wanted nothing to do with me. Just lucky I guess. Lucky and blind. That’s how it goes. I see you wanting to shake. You just go ahead and do it. Do what you need to do. No hiding anything now. The first time I found that bottle in your room, I thought about locking you in the basement until you were so scared, you’d never touch another drop again. Your mother told me “Boys will be boys.” She wasn’t wrong. It’s just that nobody in her family was a drinker. On that side, they gamble. Your mother’s mother would bet on whether or not the toast would come out burnt, but gambling is an acceptable addiction provided it doesn’t land you in the poorhouse. Luckily for your mother’s side, all that linseed oil money made sure they could burn up cash to their heart’s content. On my side, we were too poor for the finer addictions. It was alcohol for my father and shooting up for your aunt. Your grandmother and I spent all our lives praying and waiting. Waiting for a midnight knock. Waiting to be told somebody wasn’t coming home. And when they did, it was its own kind of Hell. In another year, you’ll be eighteen. Then you’ll have every right to kill yourself if that’s what you want to do. That’s why we had to send you away before it gets to that. I know you hate me right now and that’s fine. I’d rather a live son hating me than a dead one who loved me. You’re the blue pearl of my life. The gem and the jewel. Without you, I’m nothing but an oyster shell, my boy. Your mother feels the same. We have each other, but the loss of you would turn us into strangers. I don’t doubt that one bit. Something in your posture tells me you might consider running. You should know that I’ve called up every friend I’ve ever made to form a circle around this station. Should you choose to take off, they have been instructed to do anything and everything short of a felony to keep you from escaping. I know the wisdom states that you have to want to help yourself and nobody can force you into it, but the wisdom can suck a peach as far as I’m concerned, because you’re going to Oliver Junction if I have to ship you there in a packing crate. Once you’re on the train, the staff knows what to do. They’ll turn you over to the staff at the facility. You’ll be there for as long as you need to be there. Your mother and I have worked it out financially so that you can take all the time you need. When they feel you’re in a better spot, they’ll put you back on a train and you’ll come home. If you need to postpone college, you’ll postpone it. I’m not worried about that at the moment. I’m just worried that this is deeper in your blood than any of us realize even though saying that makes me sound like some kind of kook. I know there are things that reside so deeply in us there’s no getting them out. I simply have to have faith that you’re not beyond saving. It won’t be like this always. In the midst of turmoil, we sometimes believe everything from alpha to omega has been corrupted. We see no path to light. I’m not speaking religiously as you know I’m not exactly a man of the church. I’m speaking as a father. I’m speaking to my son. I hope you hear me as a son and as someone who has wrestled with loss and grief his entire life. When you tire of the fight, you give it over to me. Doesn’t matter if I’m a thousand miles away. You close your eyes and ask your father to take it from you, and somewhere, somehow--I will. I’ll feel it fall upon me and I will fight until my last breath so you can rest. That’s what you must tell yourself whenever it begins to be too much for you. I hear the train arriving. Always on time--just as I said. It’s nice to know there are still things you can count on in life, isn’t it? Nice to know certain trains will always be on time.


Since the beginning of time, humans have been the only creatures to roam the earth. Well besides animals of course. Except humanity has never been that accepting of new things. They're afraid of things that are different. And god forbid you're something that they've been taught to hate. So when Alex learned that there was more to the multiverse than just earth she had to take the chance to escape. She had already known since the time that she came out that she wouldn't be accepted. And considering that she's already African American she was already doing pretty bad on earth. Humankind could never accept people for what they were, and so the best thing for her to do was leave. Now when she learned of the multiverse theory she didn't know for sure it was possible. Heck, she knew that people on earth hadn't even figured that science out yet. Until she found a portal already open that is. And who was she to decline such an amazing opportunity to explore a new place and make new discovery's? But who was she kidding she just really wanted to leave Earth behind. So she did. She gathered all of the strength and energy she had and she took that leap. Yep, she took that leap alright, and on the other side of the portal was a small cliff. Okay, it was a pretty big cliff. And when she took that leap it took her right over the edge of that cliff. Her vision was blinking in and out and she was trying to keep her eyes open. With blurry vision, she looked up to see a human-sized green blob with a tail. And that's all she saw before she passed out. When she awoke she noticed two things. One was that she was most definitely in the forest or a wooded area of some kind. And two was that she was surrounded by different well, for the loss of a better term, furry's. Now in her mind, she knew that wasn't what they were but that's the only way she could explain it when she had just woken up. It was obvious to her that they hadn't seen anything like her. And if it weren't for the people that looked like humans but with long pointy ear's she wouldn't have thought people knew anything about a species like hers. "Um hello?" She said to the people staring at her. For some weird reason, she thought that her tongue was moving in weird ways. And this was probably because she was not speaking in her native tongue; not that she knew that. Not long after she spoke a beautiful woman when with long blonde hair and 2 braids gong around her head stepped forward. She gave a kind smile a held out her hand to Alex. For Alex, this was something that she didn't expect. This woman was smiling so kindly that it shocked her. On Earth, no one would ever do such a thing. As a matter of fact, if someone saw her lying asleep injured, some people would have just ignored her. And even worse some people may have taken advantage of her in that state. She knew that she was different from these people and she was sure they knew she was different too. So why were they being so kind to her? She smiled at the thought of a society that wasn't so judgemental. It was clear to see if you looked around at the different species gathered around. There were so many different kinds and yet none of them were being judged and yelling at each other or arguing. And none of them were judging her either. She slowly reached out her hand to the elf's (an educated guess based on the woman's ears) and grabbed onto her hand. The woman gently pulled her up and once again sent her a kind smile. "Welcome to Asunaa. The place where dreams come true." She said calmly with her smooth and soothing voice. And for some reason, I understood why she said this. The place where being different is good. The place where everyone is accepted with their flaws and all. I think It'll be nice here. "Thank you. It's nice to meet you all." I smiled back. This is going to be my new home and I know that they'll accept me for who I am. Or will they? I mean yes they don't really care about what species you are but that doesn't mean anything If they find out I'm gay. Oh gosh, I'm definitely about to start panicking now. The elf, who I'm assuming is the leader of the people, pulled my hand that she was still holding closer to her as she started walking. Not wanting my arm to be pulled I followed along. The people that were surrounding us moved out of the way as she pulled me along towards what looked like a large hut. Once inside the hut she pulled out a seat from the side of the room for me to sit on and then sat on her own. "What happened to you? Where did you come from? What are you here?" She demanded from me. Okay wow, that's a big change in personality from how she was outside. "I'm sorry if I scared you. I just want what's best for my people. Someone who just falls from the sky out of nowhere isn't exactly what we would call the norm." She explained, and I could tell that she meant it by the expression on her face. "I don't really know how to explain this so If you get confused please tell me. I come from a place called Earth. The people on earth are generally okay but there are a lot of bad people there. Too many for a lot of people to feel safe. I wanted to leave Earth but I didn't really have a way to. That is, until I saw this colorful swirl that I concluded was a portal. And so me, wanting to leave earth an any way that I could took the chance and leaped through it." "And that is how you fell through the sky I assume?" She questioned me. "Yep!" I exclaimed feeling happy that I got the point across correctly. "Well in that case you're basically a runaway. A refugee if you will. And we'll help take care of you like you're one of our own. No one deserves to be left behind." I started to tear up after she finished speaking. No one has made me feel as safe as she has already. "Come along we need to announce you to the village. Camile, you can come out now and go ring the bell." I was confused about who she was talking to until a girl in a red hoodie stepped away from the wall. "She's a chameleon. And yes she looks a lot like your species but she has special abilities. Take for instance the camaflouge that you just saw." Okay wow, that's so cool. We both stood up and I followed her out the door as Camile went to ring the bell. It was a large golden-brown bell in the middle of the town/village. Once the bell had rung everyone started to gather around. "Listen up folks, we've got a new kid in town. Make her feel welcome and at home." She stated making sure everyone understood to take care of Alex. Everyone smiled and then started cheering. One person even yelled out "Welcome home new kid". It felt great to finally be appreciated. Oh yes, this is definitely the start of a new adventure.


A young man decides life is no longer worth living and climbs to the roof of the municipal hospital with a calm mind. This causes traffic. I, luckily, am not a car so traffic has little effect on my comings and goings. I tend to walk on two legs and, when this is impractical, I am carried by kind-hearted muscular men in the fashion of pallbearers sans coffin. I detest crowds but am magnetically drawn towards all things suicidal. I once spent six months in Barcelona following Joselito Montalbán, the renowned matador, until his death at the horns of an unnamed half blind bull. I sometimes convince myself it was the most important thing I have ever done. So, it will come as no surprise to you, dear reader, that at the sight of this young man on that horrible ledge I canceled my afternoon appointments and sat patiently at the Café Almirante across the street. A proper Café is a difficult thing to establish. There must be enough space to move about yet not so much so that it, even when empty, feels empty. The men amongst the patrons must be haggard and seated alone while the women are required to have a minimum of one (1) child at their hip or stored in carriage. Breastfeeding is, of course, permitted. The server’s gender is unimportant, yet it is imperative that they are unattractive and rude--to keep away the hobbyists and weekenders. Espresso is to be served at one hundred degrees centigrade and be entirely unpalatable. I believe one needs to earn the right to comfort. Back to the dying boy. Blonde hair stuck against his sweated brow. A true blue horror show. The police begin with their song and dance. Tourists crowd. Some are weeping into the breasts of their lovers while others take photographs with their telescopic lenses. I order a pastry and the server spits in my face. Perfect. I cross one leg over the other and breathe in the dead summer air. The blonde boy says something for some reason. He might as well have been God. And me, here watching, might as well have been nothing. A dog urinates on a police car and continues about his business; not even thinking to look up. I am sure this all serves a purpose. An old man sits at the table beside me and rolls a cigarette. The server lights his beard on fire. The old man and I share a laugh. He tells me he is one-hundred and sixteen years old and has seen it all. I ask him how the years have been. Hard. I ask him what he treasures most. Automobile accidents. The police play Sinatra over the bullhorn and the boy takes a step forward. My pastry arrives. Peach strudel burnt to a crisp with a saucer of crème fraiche. I crush it between my hands and feed it to the pigeons. The old man tells me someone ought to get a gun and shoot that damned fool up there. I disagree. We do not laugh. The ants take what the pigeons leave behind.


(Content Warning: Domestic abuse, grief, and algebra homework.) “Homework,” Aunt Lorraine says, slamming a thick packet of off-white, grainy pages of mathematics onto the kitchen table; the grids and functions burrow into my brain. I feel dizzy just looking at it. “You have to do your homework,” she says, cold and pleading. Her eyes lock onto my hand as I slowly shift a dull number two pencil over the first page. I quickly scribble my name and the date. Suddenly, I feel a muted slap to the back of my skull. “You spelled your name wrong, Jesse,” she says. “Skipped an ‘s.’” I wince and rub the back of my head. Aunt Lorraine sighs and leaves to smoke a cigarette, her third in the last hour. I try to erase my mistake, but the eraser on my pencil is too worn. The metal casing around what remains of it tears through the soft page before me. Frustrated, I take the metal end of the pencil and use it to shred the page apart. My blood boils as I stab and drag it through the pages until the packet is unrecognizable. I stare into the shambles. It makes as much sense to me now as it did before. The screen door slams open and shut, and I choke on the smell of a freshly burned cigarette. “What. The. HELL . Did. You. DO. ” I shut my eyes as tightly as I can. All I want to do is disappear. I messed up. I know. I messed up. Aunt Lorraine lunges at me, but I bolt from my chair before she can grab me. Panicking, I run through the screen door. Whether I broke through the screen or managed to slide it open before falling through, I can’t recall. My skin is burning all the same. I don’t know where I am running, but I don’t stop. My bare feet ache against the rocks and the grass. I run until my chest hurts. I taste the blood pumping through my tongue. Eventually, the chill of the autumn evening cools my breath as it leaves me, and a fog forms in front of my face. As my strength dwindles, I lie on a grassy hill. The pointed edges of the blades tickle my skin. Above me, I watch pale pink clouds drifting across an orange sky. The clouds are bulbous, their broad and rounded edges making intriguing shapes. One cloud looks like a heart; another looks like a dog floating across the sky. My chest flutters as I notice a large cloud hovering just over the setting sun. Vaguely shaped as an angelic figure with auburn hair and a pale, pink face: this cloud glows in front of me. It looks just like you, Mom . Overwhelmed with what I think is grief, I start to cry. I wish she could be here. I wish she could rescue me. The cloud’s arms stretch towards me. She doesn’t understand me like you did. I breathe out heavily, causing the fog of my breath to combine with the clouds above me. Blurred by the tears, I can almost feel your touch. Held by breath and grass, I drift to sleep on the hill as the evening grows darker. I dream of the days before my mom got sick. I dream of the days when she still had color in her face and auburn in her hair, the days when she would laugh at my bad jokes and make me laugh with hers. She was the only person on the planet who understood me. She made learning fun. She made learning comprehensible . (She taught me that word.) When she got sick, things stopped making sense. Other people had to take over my home-schooling. Her death was so slow and so sudden all the same; I hate that you had to watch the world replace you. I hate that you can’t see how miserably that failed. The cold autumn night eases me awake. A full and luminous moon overhead casts light onto the hill. My arms and legs itch and ache with mosquito bites. My back contorts through a spasm. My stomach growls. Perhaps running away was not the brightest idea. I sigh as I start walking in what I hope is the direction home. My memory serves correctly for once, and soon I am stumbling towards the stocky one-floor house. I stop just short of the backyard to assess the battlefield from behind a shrub. All of the lights in the house are on. I can see Aunt Lorraine in the kitchen. Surprisingly, she doesn’t look angry. She seems... worried. She is pacing around the kitchen table, running a nervous hand through her auburn hair. She is frantically speaking into the phone. I see her mouth my name over and over. She slams the phone onto its hook, shaking her head. She walks towards the unbroken screen door, steps outside, and lights a cigarette. Closer now, I can see her shaking. I can’t tell if it is from frustration or the cold night air. About halfway through her cigarette, I step forward. When she sees me, she drops the cigarette into her ashtray and runs towards me. She lunges at me, and I flinch, but this time she wraps her arms around me and pulls me into a tight embrace. She holds me closely and begins to sob over my shoulder. Awkwardly, I rub her on the back. She sobs harder. “I just...” she starts. She pushes me away by the shoulders and looks me in the eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she sobs, whiplashing me back into a hug. “I can’t lose you, too,” she cries. Suddenly, I feel tears streaming down my face as well. I lost a mother, but she lost a sister, too. Am I just the personification of a bad replacement for you? The warmth of her body lulls me into drowsiness, and I start to fall limp into her arms. She helps me to the couch. I drift in and out of consciousness as she roams around the house. She makes calls, calling off the search for me. She starts a pot of water on the stove. She digs through a cabinet to find some calamine lotion. I sleepily raise my arms and legs, and she dabs on the cool pink liquid. She blows on it to speed the drying, and I shiver. When the lotion has dried, she covers me in a soft throw blanket and returns to the stove. I close my eyes as I hear the shifting and shaking of macaroni and cheese being made. In one long blink, a bowl of warm, gooey, golden sustenance is placed on the side table. As I sit up to eat, I see Aunt Lorraine staring at me from across the living room. The rising sun pouring in through the windows illuminates the red in her hair.


This is the latest in a series of 4 stories so far that feature a couple in a Post-Apocalyptic setting. They start with "Just another day" and are chronological. They all have "Day" in the title. I enjoy any feedback. She looked over at him and gave a silent look of reproach. He saw the look; he always saw the look. He asked her “What?” And she told him, “I can’t find that can of candied fruit.” “Excuse me?” he asked. And continued with “can of what?” She told him “candied fruit; it’s kind of like jujubes or jelly beans, or maybe licorice”. “I like black licorice” he told her. He watched the love of his life make a face that clearly conveyed one feeling; and that feeling was YUCK! “I don’t see how you can like black licorice” she told him; “that stuff is Nasty!” “One of the best things about black licorice” he told her; “is that you can offer someone a piece of licorice and they see that it’s black licorice and they make that face that you just made, and I get to eat all of my licorice” She nodded her head slowly back and forth and he told her; “I even hold a piece of the black licorice near their face and ask - are you sure?” He grinned as he told her; “I’m generous like that” She smiled at him and said “YUCK!” “So what was it about a can of fruit” he asked? “Candied fruit” she said. “Why do you want some candied fruit my Love?” She told him “I want to make my Nana’s Fruit Cake”. “I think I have most of the ingredients I need, but I really need that candied fruit” She put her hand on his arm and said “I seem to recall you bringing home a can of candied fruit on your first supply run after our Apple pie.” He looked away when she mentioned the Apple Pie. That was several months ago; and he still wasn’t fully recovered from catching on fire and inhaling more smoke than a man should. He didn’t want her to worry so he didn’t tell her that he still couldn’t take a really deep breath without a bit of discomfort. He turned away because he didn’t want her to see his face when she brought up that pie, and the memories of what happened after their day of apple picking. But when he thought of her fruit cake; he did actually perk up and he knew there was a smile on his face. So he turned back to her and said “I do like your Nana’s Fruit Cake”. “Is that why you were up at the break of day, rummaging around the pantry?” He asked. He remembered years ago when they were first dating that she had made a big deal of giving him a Fruit Cake for Christmas. He; like so many others, did not have a high opinion of fruit cake, no matter what time of year. So many reasons not to like Fruit Cake. It is so dense; and why do those candied fruits have to look radioactive. And Fruit Cake is aged. But dammit : Nana’s fruit cake was awesome. “Let me check the pantry” he told her, as he made his way to the back of their future house where the large pantry was. He took his time searching through their extensive pantry. One of the first things he noticed when he entered the pantry was that she had put up a whiteboard and had written “Nana’s Fruit Cake” across the top of it. Figs, Dates, Raisins, Pineapple, Flour, Cinnamon, Cloves, Baking soda, Brown sugar, Milk, Eggs Brandy or Rum, Candied fruit He looked over the list on the whiteboard and saw that Eggs had a little sad face next to it. He thought that the recipe looked pretty complete but he had never been involved in actually making the holiday baked good. He knew they had more than half of the ingredients on the white board and saw that she had actually started a stack of ingredients on one of the shelves in their pantry. He understood why there was a sad face next to the Eggs. They hadn’t seen a live chicken for several years. Although he did suppose that they could find some wild bird nests for their eggs. It probably didn’t matter if the eggs came from chickens or pigeons, or quail or some other bird. “My love” he called out; “I don’t see the candied fruit”. She startled him by calling out “I know; I spent most of the morning looking and didn’t see it” “I think maybe we should check that Piggly Wiggly store we saw last week” she offered to him. “I think maybe it was a Winn Dixie” he countered, “but either way we can check it out.” “Worst case scenario we find more supplies; even if we don’t find the candied stuff” he continued. “Fruit” she said to him; “candied fruit”. “I think I have most of the recipe” she said, “but for some reason I’m thinking I need turmeric”. He didn’t think that sounded right. He did most of the cooking and had occasionally used turmeric in some meals but never for a dessert. They spent the next half hour gathering gear to go out for a supply run and to search for the elusive candied fruit. She was getting ready to follow him out to their solar car and she noticed that he had left the gun in its’ holster across the back of one of their kitchen chairs. That made her stop: until recently he had never left their future house without his father’s gun belted about his waist. She had made a habit of asking him why he carried it every where just to hear his off the wall reasons as to why his father’s gun was a constant companion. Her favorite response from him about it was probably that he needed it for bunnies; because what’s with all those carrots? Why do they need such good eyesight anyway? She knew it was probably because he was forced to use it when a crazy man popped out of their bushes with a flaming bottle (Molotov Cocktail) in one hand and an honest to god Samurai sword in the other. The crazy guy had tossed the bottle into their shed; catching her husband on fire and then came at her with the aforementioned sword. He had put three bullets in the crazy guys back and then collapsed in the flaming shed. She had grown up with a father who was a gun enthusiast and she was very familiar and proficient with pistols and had been hunting many times with her father, a long time ago. She belted the heavy weapon about her slender waist and followed out to their solar car. She was up again at the break of day and made him breakfast: Spam and eggs. His most common comment about the processed tinned meat product was “don’t knock it, it’s got its’ own key”. They had spent a large part of the previous day at that little grocery store that she remembered; it had in fact been a Winn Dixie market. He had actually discovered a cache of candied fruit in the back store room of the market and she had hit the jackpot and found a stockpile of powdered eggs. She did wish that they had actual real chicken eggs or any kind of bird eggs; but she would make do with powdered eggs because that’s what they had. They spent most of the day working in their future kitchen. She wasn’t entirely certain that she had captured Nana’s recipe for the fruit cake but she thought she had come pretty darn close. She laughed out loud when at the end of the day he had exclaimed “what do you mean I gotta wait six weeks to eat Nana’s fruit cake?” “Babe; fruit cake has to age for six to eight weeks before you can eat it” she explained to him. “Well my love” he said, “I know you’re not certain that you got the recipe right; so I think I can wait six weeks to eat Our fruit cake”. “Six to eight weeks” she said. He looked over at her and gave a silent look of reproach. She saw the look; it was one she had given him many a time before and asked him “What?”. He told her with a determined look, “I will wait exactly six weeks to eat Our Fruit Cake”


The Wolf will come for me. The Wolf came for my Father. The Wolf came for my Grandfather. The wolf came for his father, and his father. The Wolf will come for me. My father tried to keep The Wolf away from me. As soon as he learned that my Mother was pregnant, he sold everything he owned, including his treasured car, and hauled us across the country to North Wales. I was born at home, in the small country cottage which my father had bought using everything he’d raised. Father wouldn’t allow a Doctor or Midwife to be present. My mother passed not long afterwards. Leukaemia. I always believed Father resented me, for our having to leave, for the loss of his possessions, and for the loss of Mother. Now I know he resented me for a very different reason. Father never let me outside without supervision. My earliest memories were of stuffy rooms, yellow walls, and the never-ending smell of tobacco. I didn’t attend school. Father taught me everything I needed to know about being alive; cooking, cleaning, fire-making, and growing vegetables in our garden. Father was a strict vegetarian. Never any meat allowed in the house, raw or cooked. This included pet food, so dogs and cats were out of the question. I asked Father once about getting a rabbit, or some hamsters. I’d knocked on the door of his office and waited for him to answer. When he emerged, his torn and stained shirt barely concealing his scarred torso, I posed the question as sweetly as I could. He hacked a huge gobbet of phlegm into his mouth, swallowed, and looked at me. “And how do you plan to take care of it, boy?” he asked. Father never used my name, except for matters of discipline. “It’s weak and defenceless. Will you protect it when predators come, blood and foam dripping from their gaping maws? Will you stand forward as their claws rake at flesh?” I stammered. “I thought not, boy. Now, where did you get the idea for such things?” “In the book, Sir. All about animals. In the library.” He grunted and slammed the door. That night, when he stoked the fire to warm us as we ate, I saw the cover of the book as it was devoured by the flames. Father saw me looking and fixed me with his good eye. “You’re better rid of such fancies, boy.” Those were the only words he spoke that evening. I always found Father’s single eye frightening. Its missing counterpart seemed to lend the remaining globe an air of madness. I darted around the room constantly, always watching Father’s peripherals. He never focused on one thing for long. One of my first lessons was not to ask Father about his missing eye, or any of the scars which patchworked his body. He’d taught me that with my full name, and with his belt. Whenever we weren’t doing garden work, Father would remain locked in his office. I later learned that he had good reason. I would spend time running about the house, testing my time by the grandfather clock which sat in the small living-room-cum-dining-area. Sometimes, I would race against the only friends I had, those I had found in the few books which Father didn’t burn. I was faster than Bilbo Baggins and the twisted Long John Silver but was often left in the dust by Captain Ahab. Father would come down at tea time and eat whatever I had made. Then he would sit by the fire and watch the flames until morning. I never saw him sleep. On my sixth birthday, Father took me outside to the garden and threw the wood axe at my feet. “Pick it up, boy.” I dutifully obliged and began making my way to the woodpile. “Where are you going?” “To cut the wood, Sir.” “We’re not cutting wood, boy.” I returned to him. “What are we doing then, Sir?” His fist was like lightning, landing on my cheek like a blacksmith’s hammer. I don’t even remember hitting the floor. I woke up a few seconds later, pain screaming across my face. I tried to speak, but my jaw refused to move. Father spoke. “If you can’t defend yourself, then you’ll be swallowed. Swing the axe, boy. Keep me away.” I swung the axe. Father stepped around it and fetched me another blow, less forceful this time and with an open palm, across the side of my head. My head rang like a thousand bells. The afternoon passed like this, my paltry attempts to swing the axe met with Father’s derision and pain. When my arms could no longer heft the heavy weapon, Father took it from me. “Getting close to tea,” was all he said. And that was how our days continued. Wake before the rising of the sun, chores, gardening with Father, lunchtime (in which I could steal a few minutes of reading), practice with the axe, make tea, and then to bed. Every day the same. The morning of my sixteenth birthday was different. Bleary-eyed, I made my way down the cold wood stairs. Through the window, I noticed Father in the garden. He was seated on a homemade chair, axe across his lap, staring out towards the horizon. The dying embers of a fire smoked beside him. I walked out into the crisp air, breath fogging before me. “Father?” He didn’t turn his head. “Boy.” “Would you like breakfast?” “Not today, boy.” He puffed on his cigarette and threw the butt into the fire. He reached into the pocket of his threadbare corduroys, pulled out another, and lit it. “What are you doing out here, Father?” I said and took a step back. He didn’t reach for his belt. Instead, a single hand extended outwards and beckoned me forward. I stepped up beside him. He indicated out over the windswept hills. “Something’s coming, boy. From out there. I have to be ready.” “What is it, Father?” He grunted. “You’ll see, boy. Wait here with me,” he reached out and grabbed me by the front of the shirt, “but when I tell you, you go inside, and you bolt the door. Do you hear me?” “Yes, Sir.” He rounded his eye on me. Despite the empty bottle of Jack Daniels which leaned against his foot, he was remarkably focused. “Do you hear me, boy?” “Yes, Sir, I do, Sir.” “Mhm. Grab that stump and sit with me.” He released his grip. I did as ordered. Nothing happened. After what must have been several minutes, and at least three cigarettes, Father coughed loudly and reached down. He produced another bottle of Jack and pulled the top off. He handed it to me. I took it. He looked at me again and nodded. I put the bottle to my lips and took an ambitious swig. It burned. I coughed, retched, and leaned forward. The burn on the way up was worse than on the way down. Father laughed. “You’ll get used to it, boy. You won’t have a choice. Try again.” I sat myself up, resolved not to look weak in front of Father again. I swallowed another mouthful. I retched again, but this time it stayed down. Father snorted. “Getting there already.” We sat in silence while the sun rose across the blue-grey sky. A shape caught my eye. It was black and moved fast, standing out against the green of the grass-covered hills. “Father.” “I see it, boy.” His knuckles had tightened around the axe. “When it reaches those stones there, I want you to go inside. Understand me?” “Yes, Father.” “Good.” He took the bottle from me and drank deeply. “What is it, Father?” “Don’t ask questions, boy. You don’t need to know.” “But Father-” He silenced me with a vicious glance of that single, manic eye. Then he sighed. He handed the bottle back to me and rose from his seat. “You remember what I told you about my father, boy?” “Yes, Sir. He died when you were still young.” “He died on my sixteenth birthday, boy. I didn’t listen to him. That’s how I lost this.” He turned, knelt in front of me, and indicated his missing eye. “It wasn’t an accident that took him, boy. It was that. That out there took your grandfather, took his father, and took all the men in our family as far back as any of us have ever known.” He paused, and looked away at that black shape, drawing ever nearer. “I’ve been hard on you, boy. I know it. But you need to understand that I had good reason. You need to understand that... After today this might be your responsibility. I’m sorry. Now go inside boy. Go to my office and lock the door. Don’t open it until I do.” I felt something heavy inside of me. “Father-“ He shoved me, hard, and I hit the ground. “You gave me your word, boy. Don’t make yourself a liar.” I stared at him in silence. He stood and turned towards the black shape, hefting his axe in his hand. I scrabbled to my feet. As I approached the door, the sound of my feet hitting the floor was accompanied by a growl. The deep, low sound was all malice and hatred. I was filled with ice, reaching from the base of my spine to the tips of my fingers. I glanced backwards. The shape was bounding over the last crest, all matted fur, and gnashing teeth. A pair of eyes, black pits full of the same mania I could see in Father’s eyes, caught the sun as they turned on me. They spurred my steps, and I hammered into the door. It gave way, and I staggered wildly to keep my feet. Pain sparked in my shoulder. The growling exploded into a long howl, followed by a series of barks. Father screamed a thousand curses, words I’d never heard before, and though I didn’t understand them their meaning was not lost. I reached his office and slammed the door, bolting it shut. Both Father and the beast fell silent. I pressed my ear against the heavy wood of the door. I heard a snarl, though from Father or the beast I did not know, and then a yelp. I realised that I had held the breath in my lungs and let it out in a soft exhale. Father had won. I looked around the room and my breath caught in my throat. Pinned to every wall in the dingy room were drawings. Hundreds and hundreds of charcoal drawings, all depicting the same thing. A black shape, slavering jaws, evil eyes. Notebooks lay open upon the desk, scrawlings across every page detailed times and dates. I picked up the first one. *‘November 22nd, 1745, Master William, 36. August 3rd, 1780, Master Edgar, 35. The Wolf came. The Wolf always comes. The Wolf always comes. The Wolf always comes.’* There was a scream, which raced through my soul. I knew my father’s voice, though it was rent out of shape, like the bonnet of a car after a head-on collision. I threw up again. The scream, cold and agonised, cut off suddenly. I pulled away from the door, dragging myself across the bare wood with numb hands. I curled up into the foetal position and wept until I was dry. I don’t know how long passed, but by the time I found the strength to stand, the sun was rising again. The next day. I felt as though I had a rope taught around my stomach, and my lungs had deflated. My throat burned from the vomit. I went back down the stairs and, holding my breath, pressed my face to the window. The burned-out firepit, pawprints in the mud, whiskey bottles, and Father’s chair in splinters. No other sign of the fight which had taken Father from me. I moved into the garden. The air stabbed the inside of my lungs. I spread my gaze out, frost clinging to the grass. My Father’s axe lay in the grass, tooth marks drilled deep into the woods. It’s the only thing of his I still own. I was taken into care, and my Father’s estate waited for me until I turned eighteen. I sold everything as soon as I could, everything I couldn’t sell went to landfill. I moved to Cardiff and rented a flat. I got a job. There was a woman there, I fell for her. She fell for me. Then she got pregnant. And my eyes went manic. My son turns sixteen in one week. He doesn’t know about The Wolf, and as I bring Father’s axe out from storage, I swear to myself he’ll never need to. The Wolf will come for me.


God gave the sea monkeys (aka as brine shrimps, or simply shrimp) 3 gifts which allowed them to prosper; On the first day he poured water at room temperature (27o C.) into the sea monkey tank. he then gave them GIFT #1: he poured the water purifier into the water and stirred. On the second day, he gave them GIFT #2, and added life into the tank. He kept the aquarium in a shaded area away from direct sunlight. In the following 5 days the sea monkeys started slowly filling up the tank, and swam around gracefully. On the seventh day the sea monkeys watched in awe as God gave them GIFT #3. Growth food was falling from the sky, it was an amazing sight. Not one sea monkey was left deprived of growth food. The aquarium prospered. Since then, the seventh day of the week has become known as Fooday. There was a fourth gift, GIFT #4. But God gave it to only one sea monkey. On the eighth day, Jo swam out of the tank into the air. It was unheard of. Despite being out of purified water, jo had no trouble breathing. He was floating through space, and with God’s direction he evaded every space giant who swatted at him. He did so effortlessly. He was not phased at all by the sights of space that would scare any other shrimp. Eventually, against all odds, he found another sea monkey settlement. He landed there and introduced himself to the shrimp of the tank who all gathered around him and listened to his preaching. He told them of the settlement he was born in, of the 3 gifts. Turns out, their aquarium was created the same way. God gave them the same three gifts and they too, are blessed with food every Fooday. The shrimp of the tank were happy about their guest. He stayed there for the next few weeks to get to know the tank and those living in it. He was treated very hospitably. Finally, Jo’s visit came to an end; he said his goodbyes to everyone and left. They all watched as he departed. Jo flew in space like a shining comet, leaving behind him a trail of colorful particles. It was a great sight to behold. Jo was very satisfied with his finding, and couldn’t wait to tell everything he saw to his old shrimp friends. But the shrimp in his tank didn’t receive the news very well. You see, Jo was venturing through space for a long time, And each week that passed the sea monkeys of his tank became greedier and greedier, wanting more and more food. They were no longer satisfied by what could last them for a week. Now, when food rained on Fooday, they started eating each other. They believed that when they eat someone, they also eat all the growth food that person ate. Instead of being a day about peace and rest, it became a feared day where everyone had to tussle for their own survival. Jo told his friends about the new world he found, about how food rains from the sky there too. They were excited. But not for the finding of another sea monkey settlement. They were excited for the prospect of more food. They demanded he would take them there, so they could wage war and get their food. But Jo refused, he could not betray those people, who treated him so courteously. He tried to explain but his fellow shrimps didn’t want to listen. They got mad. “He must be going there on his own and getting as much food as he wants, eh?” one said. They thought he was using his god given GIFT selfishly. The crowd rallied, shouting and screaming. Jo tried to calm them down in a futile attempt, because now they wanted one thing more than food. The fourth GIFT. So they did what they knew and started eating Jo. Everyone fought to get a bite out of him, until eventually nothing remained. Sea monkeys who got a bite out of Jo believed they got the GIFT, and tried jumping out of the aquarium in hopes of floating in space just like Jo did. But each one who tried ended up dead. The next Fooday never came. When Friday ended, Sunday rolled around. The sea monkeys never got their food again, and without food they lived with no purpose.