"Girl, are you ready yet?” Myrna impatiently asked through the phone. Thank goodness Myrna could not hear Janie rolling her eyes or else the control freak would peak its ugly head. Myrna was a long term friend since Kindergarten and now they were in the summer, before becoming seniors in high school. Even though it had only been a year Janie was gone from her hometown, her friend, Myrna now seemed a stranger. “I’ll be ready soon. If I’m not there, just go ahead without me. I’ll meet you there”, Janie said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Alright. Fifteen minutes to get your ass here. If not - I’m outie.” Janie hung up the phone and looked at herself in the mirror. Her long, thick brown hair waved down to her elbows. The hazel green, almond eyes looked lighter. Usually, that meant Janie was excited. Her eyes changed depending on the mood. Yet, truly, inside Janie was semi dreading seeing her old clique. She left south Florida because her step father abused her. She knew people talked once she left - even her so called friends. Fourteen years of abuse endured and now her mother, she was visiting, was finally divorced from the monster. You would never know the suffering Janie endured by looking at her face. Beautiful, the word many used to describe her, but she didn’t always see it. With a sigh, Janie headed out the door to Myrna’s house. Upon arriving, Myrna gave her the warmest hug. Feeling obligated, she hugged back. Thinking in her mind, “be normal. Just be normal.” “Alright, chica, let’s go have some fun”, Myrna excitedly said. They were headed to Grand Prix Race O Rama in Miami. A forty-five minute drive sounded excruciating to Janie. She didn’t want to talk about why she left or how things were living with her father. To her relief, Myrna blasted the stereo, the entire way there. Once at the fun spot, anxiety and excitement rushed through Janie. Grand Prix had everything fun under one roof. From video games to go cart racing and even some rides. With unlimited money from her mother’s credit card - the night seemed promising. That is when she heard the awful screeching she dreaded. The hand clapping and high pitched bumbling of all her girlfriends she went to school with in past. They gushed over her looks and Janie felt like a celebrity that was bomb rushed by reporters. Myrna, the most level- headed friend of the bunch, sensed Janie’s tenseness and told everyone to go inside. Inside, the tone changed. The place was filled with noise from games and music. The intercom boomed with the latest deals. While everyone else seemed like a kid in a candy store, Janie was able to finally breathe. With everyone’s mind occupied with entertainment, which left Janie to explore on her own. Without fail, the girls found her and clung to her hip. It was at that moment, surrounded by noise, lights, and questions - all seemed to go quiet. Janie had spotted a man that took her breath away. He, like her, was surrounded by hassling friends. They were leaders in their groups but Janie sensed he felt the same as she. Wanting to be free from having to entertain them. He was gorgeous. Thick dark brown hair and eyes to match. His eyes were the kind Janie could get lost in - so much personality within. She could tell he was from a Latino background, but could not place exactly where. Just looking at him seemed to lessen her anxiety. Janie thought to herself, “no way is he single. He seems to perfect.” With that, Janie lowered her gaze and walked towards the race track - the gabbing girls following. An hour later, Janie became so consumed in the fun, nothing seemed to matter. While all the girls went to the restroom to replace their makeup, Janie found her favorite game. Mortal Combat. It was an oldie, but a goodie. The only game that required memorizing of codes and applying them to the character. Then, she heard it from behind, the sultriest voice, “Can I get next game against you?” Janie didn’t have to look - she knew it was the man who made all nonexistent around her. “Sure, if you are any good”, Janie said coyly. Even his laugh was music to her ears. It was the kind of voice that could make you melt but want to move mountains. Even his smell was kind to her nose. No overwhelming cologne. Just a fresh, crisp delightful smell. Deliberately, Janie lost the game. He moved beside her and the feeling was as if they were longtime friends. The comfort and ease talking to him while playing the game, came as natural as brushing teeth. It seemed as if the game went on forever. They were both equal in skill. Janie looked up at him and saw how effortlessly he played. “You must play this game a lot or it comes natural.” Janie said. He smiled and asked, “Do you want to take a walk? Outside this place?” It was as if he read her mind. Before Janie knew it, they were outside on a bench. The noises of Grand Prix were far away, but the distance between the two was only fifty yards. The two of them talked - not realizing the time that had gone by. Both their pagers kept going off, but ignored them. Cell phones ringing were ignored, too. It wasn't until the sound of the intercom, asking If Janie and Johnny could come to the front desk, their friends are looking for them, did they stop talking. Each smiled at one another and at the same time asked, “Is that your name?” Equally laughed, knowing their friends must be beside themselves in a frantic panic. “How long have we been out here?” “I don’t know, but we better get in. You think or no, “Johnny asked, squinting a little. Showing he wasn’t too keen on the idea of leaving. “Let me ask you something”, Janie said playfully, “Why did you ask to take a walk?” Johnny smiled as if Janie should already know the answer to that question, “Because, I wanted my full attention on you. No distractions. There was no way we would be able to with our friends around. Don’t you agree?” Janie smiled back and nodded her head yes. As they headed back towards the noise, she knew Johnny’s soul knew hers. It was ironic how all the people she was around seemed strangers but had known since being in diapers, yet being with Johnny had a deep connection which words were not needed. Things were just understood. Inside, the two groups of friends were standing in the middle of the entrance way. Janie felt the tenseness coming again. Without saying a word, Johnny grabbed her hand. As if to give her strength to face the unknown. From that moment on, time flew by. Janie only had 3 months to be in Florida. Johnny lived in Miami. The forty-five minute drive back and forth almost every day was nothing for the two that seemed to love one another. They seemed inseparable. If Johnny was at work, Janie was at the beach. No matter how many friends she visited, none of the time with them compared to the hours spent near Johnny. Too many tried flirting with Janie on the beach, but she wasn’t interested. No matter how good looking or how much money - no one compared to Johnny. He was simple and humble. Come to find out, Johnny had told Janie why he lived in Florida. He, at age 19, was working there to support his sister and mother in New Jersey. Their father died and he was left to be the man of the family. They didn’t want to move, but the money was good in Florida. His heart was kind. It was those things that allowed Janie to trust him. Trust wasn’t easy for her. Being abused and her mother allowing it, had limited how much trust Janie had for people. But with Johnny, none of that mattered. One day, Janie found out how much the abuse affected her. Johnny was punctual in calling her every day after work. Five Thirty came and went. Next, it was six. By six thirty p.m., Janie laid down and began crying. She didn’t know why. The gut wrenching feeling seemed to consume her entire body. An hour went by after that. It wasn’t until her mother came in and said Johnny was on the phone, did Janie realize she had cried herself to sleep. “Hi, sweetie. How are you?” Johnny asked sweetly. The sweetness in his voice seemed to anger Janie. She remained quiet, fearing if she said anything would be cries or words of anger. Johnny begged her to tell her what was wrong. He could sense it. He seemed to sense everything. Reluctantly, Janie, began speaking, “You didn’t call me. Part of me thought something happened. Then, I thought you didn’t want me anymore. “Janie’s voice became jittery but fluent, “If you don’t want me, then just say it. You don’t have to ignore me. Be a man, and tell me. “ It was at that moment, the words escaped her lips, Janie wished she could take it back because of her tone. She realized how she must sound. “I don’t know why I said..” Johnny didn’t let her finish, “It’s ok. I’m sorry, I didn’t call. Something happened. Totally crazy and I wasn’t able to use the phone. I was pumping gas and someone drove off, leaving the nozzle still in their car. Gas was all over and cops, ambulance. It was insane. I was there for hours. Then they wanted me to describe the person and wouldn’t let me leave until it was done. Got home, ate, showered, and then called you. Janie, I know your past was bad with your family, but I promise you - I would never hurt you intentionally.” Janie began to cry a river. So much, she couldn’t breathe. Johnny sat patiently on the phone until it subsided. He kept repeating it will be ok. Janie felt awful. How could she even think anything bad of him. Then, to speak in such a horrible tone. “Do you forgive me, “Janie asked, while blowing her nose. “Janie, there is nothing you can do that would ever make me upset. I love you. I understand you. I know you love me, even though you never say it. You are afraid of loving me since those who loved you, abused you.” He was right. The phrase, “I love you,” lost meaning long ago. Hearing it from the ones who abused, was hypocrisy at its finest hour. The overwhelming feeling of warmth and safety swept over Janie. She promised from that moment on not to allow her past to represent her present. Summer came and went. All Janie could think about was how she had to leave Johnny. She didn’t want to. Many arguments exhumed between her parents and she. Her father wanted Janie to finish her senior there, meanwhile her mother was aloof about the entire aspect. Janie’s mother only cared that Johnny wasn’t rich like them. None of that mattered to Janie. She knew Johnny loved her more than anyone would or ever did. One night, she told Johnny about her plans to run away. She only had a year before turning eighteen and could graduate high school early if she took the tests. Johnny wouldn’t hear of it. “Janie, you need to go finish school. I didn’t and work like a dog to provide for my family and care for myself. You have so much potential to become something great. Besides, there is this thing called ‘technology’. It helps people stay connected over distance and time.” Johnny always had a way of putting things in perspective and making her feel secure. “But, I just want to be with you. I don’t want to leave, but my dad is making me. I know we can talk, but it won’t be the same. I’m afraid that once I go - you will forget about me...about what we have.” Janie’s face didn’t show how she felt - sadness. “Janie, do you remember the first moment we met? I knew then how I felt. No one mattered but you amongst hundreds. Not my friends I had known for years. Not my past or my burdens. Just knew I must meet the beauty I saw before me. Now that I have, I can never forget. You left an imprint on my heart that no one can remove. Do you understand what I’m saying? I worry more about you feeling that way.” Later, that evening, Janie and Johnny were at the airport. Sitting there waiting, Johnny cried a little. Janie tried making light of the situation by taking a picture and saying, “Now, here we have a Kodak moment. Strong Johnny crying.” Realizing it was not the time to joke, Janie wiped away his tears. As she looked into his eyes, Einstein’s theory of relativity popped to mind. She finally understood it. Being around Johnny for hours seemed like minutes, awaiting the plane to be away from him seemed hours - even though it was minutes away from happening. Time went on and Janie and Johnny remained in touch. Even through the distance, they could always feel one another. If something negative was happening - the other would call. Timing seemingly priceless. A year, Janie continued to think, “It’s only a year to be with the love of my life.” One day, Janie received a phone call from Johnny’s roommate. In a way, she knew it was not good. All day, there had been a feeling of uneasiness and confusion. Her thoughts seemed sporadic. She didn’t know why until she heard Chino’s voice. Her heart dropped to her stomach and a lump seemed caught in her throat. Her body got weak and the room began to spin. “Janie, this is Chino. Are you sitting down? Please, sit down before I talk.” “I’m sitting”, Janie said sternly. “Janie.......something happened to Johnny. There was nothing we could do. We were all walking along the strip when out of nowhere a gang war broke out. Many people were shot. This includes Johnny...” Chino’s voice trailed off. Janie could hear him holding back tears to be strong for her. “So, he didn’t make it?” Janie asked professionally. “Is there going to be a funeral and where will it be?” Chino explained that his body was going back home to his mother’s hometown. Offered Janie the information to get ahold of his family. Janie hung up the phone, feeling lost. Or maybe, the news had not sunk in yet. Tears didn’t come and Janie wondered why. All she knew is that never would she attend the funeral and now would be the time to call his mother. After offering her condolences and hearing all the wonderful things Johnny had told his mother about her, Janie hung up the phone. Feeling numb, she went about her time as if nothing had happened. Days went by, then months. Janie was present in all daily activities, but something was missing. Years went by and always Johnny was present in her mind as if he was by her side. Yet, still - she never cried. One day, in college, Janie had to make a persuasive speech to the class. It was to her final for communications. She decided to persuade people to always go for what they want in life. The story she told was of Johnny and her. Rehearsing the speech, it was at that moment, Janie began to sob. All the feelings of love that was known through Johnny and how he treated her. How angry she was that someone, out of carelessness for life, took the life of her beloved. How the one person in the world who understood her, was no longer around. All those feelings of loss had her crying. With all her tears, Janie could have filled a small river. The ache she felt the day Johnny didn’t call her right after work, was the same one that crept up and grabbed ahold now. Curling into a ball, Janie fell asleep. In her dream, Johnny appeared. He stood behind her, as he had awaiting to play the game at Grand Prix. Even his voice was the same when he spoke -sultry, “Janie, don’t be upset. Do not look at what you have lost, but what you have gained. See my death, but don’t wallow in it. Celebrate the time in which I was there. I love you.” Within moments, Janie awoke. Still feeling as if the dream was reality. Maybe the dream was her subconscious. Maybe it was truly him coming through to that other realm scientists cannot completely explain. Whichever it was, didn’t matter. The words were truth. Alfred Lord Tennyson once wrote, “Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”


I was meant to meet Marley at noon. We had the whole day planned. We were having our first beach day of the summer. Despite the harsh temperatures and the fact that it was mid-July, we hadn’t yet had the pleasure of embarking on a journey to the sandy shores where the ocean waves licked at your toes and seagulls begged for a morsel of your lunch. We’d both been hard at work this summer at our respective jobs. I worked at a local restaurant where the onslaught of insane customers and tireless shifts was made up for by the astronomical tips I made on these hot summer days. Marley worked two jobs. One was at an ice cream parlor, where she scooped mint chocolate chip and raspberry sorbet for giggling groups of teens and adults with hordes of children in tow. Her second job was at a boat docking place, essentially a gas station for boats. Marley had no shame in wearing her skimpiest shorts, if they could be classified as such, and bikini top to the delight of the rich, old men stopping for a fill-up. Often times she made more tips than I did on a double shift at the restaurant. But today was different. We had this day planned out for weeks now. We’d been saving up our time, making certain we requested this day off long in advance. It was gorgeous out. The local news boasted a blissful 75 degrees. I’d already had three people text me, begging me to take their shift, with half-hearted promises of “I owe you.” However, as I said before, today was different. Today was mine and Marley’s day. The phone was ringing but no one was picking up. “Ugh, where are you?” I asked out loud, though I was the least bit surprised she was running late. She always did this. Just as I was feeling truly dejected, I saw Marley pulling up in her bright red jeep. I smiled to myself, giddy for the first time in a while. “It’s about time!” I exclaimed as she pulled up. Slowly though, my expression shifted from one of elation to that of pure annoyance. “Heyyyyy Suzie-Q!!! What’s up?” “Oh, hey Blake,” I forced a smile that was better classified as a grimace. “Marley, do you think I could talk to you for a second?” A brief glance at Blake sent him to occupy his time where he devoted studious attention to the grass blades growing through the concrete sidewalk. “Hey Suziekins, sooo I know this was supposed to be just the two of us, but Blake texted me out of the blue and he had the day off and-“ “OF COURSE HE HAD THE DAY OFF, HE DOESN’T HAVE A JOB!!!” I exploded in a huffed rage. “We planned this out for WEEKS, Marley. I was looking forward to spending some quality time with you!” “Well, you still can! It’ll just be the three of us, you’ll hardly notice Blake is there!” She smiled, giving me a doe-eyed expression. “I guess it’s better than nothing. I’m not wasting this day off, after all.” I always succumbed to her wishes despite my own desires. she’s my best friend after all. “Alright, Blake!” called out Marley, “Get back in the car.” I took a step in front of the passenger side door, certain about one thing. “Back seat, Blake.” “Oooh Suzie-Q, I like it when you’re feisty,” Blake made a clawing motioning in the air as he hopped into the back of the jeep. “LET’S GOOO!!! Beach day!!” We all cheered in unison as Marley sped off down the highway. It’s often the things in life that we don’t expect, those little surprises, that make for the most interesting stories. I recall a time from years ago when I was just a child, playing in my backyard. I spied a monstrous-sized rabbit lumbering through the bushes and decided to follow it into the woods, thinking it might lead me to Wonderland. Instead, the furry beast led me to a little hovel where seven newborn bunnies snuggled together. Each was a little bit of wonder, though not the kind I had anticipated. A few seconds later, another little girl came running through the woods opposite me. She has on a sunshine yellow sundress with matching ribbons in her hair. “Hi,” said the little girl, “I’m Marley.” “Hi,” I said tentatively, “I’m Suzie.” When we finally made it to the beach, it was mobbed. This was to be expected considering the perfect weather, on a Saturday, no less. “Man, it’s crowded,” exclaimed Blake. “Don’t worry,” Marley smirked, “I’ve got this under control.” As I unloaded our things from the back of the jeep, I watched as Marley stripped down to a seductive red bikini. Her hours at the boat dock had paid off because her sun-kissed complexion only caused my pasty white skin to grow ever brighter in comparison. She left me and Blake behind, as she walked to the nearest lifeguard stand in what could only be described as a sensual walk. Didn’t she realize children were present? The lifeguard hopped down from his post, shirtless and glistening. I couldn’t help but think of all the potential drownings or other accidents that may occur whilst his gaze was diverted. However, my attention was quickly overtaken by a rather lanky looking boy, running to catch a frisbee. Instead of successfully catching it, he face-planted into the sand, causing a burst of rapturous laughter from his nearby group of friends. “Alright guys, I got us a spot!” Marley exclaimed. She ushered us over to the lifeguard who was clearing a family of four from the beach, insisting that too much sun wasn’t good for the children. “I don’t feel right about this,” I said to Marley. “Which part? Me using my body for our benefit or helping that mother who obviously wanted to go home hours ago.” Marley quipped back. I let out of sigh of defeat and laid out my towel on the soft sand, eager to catch up on my summer tan that had yet to begin. “See you girls in the water!” And with a flash, Blake was gone. Marley turned to me, a slight look of triumph in her expression. “See?” she said, “I told you he wouldn’t be a problem.” “I guess so. But why did you have to invite him in the first place?” “I felt bad for him. He’s got no friends but us.” Marley sighed. “I wouldn’t say he’s my friend....” “Okay, Suziekins. Whatever you say.” I laid out on my towel in that hot summer sun, warming me from head to toe. The sound of laughing children and crashing waves cradled me into a soft slumber and my mind drifted to the goofy boy I saw playing frisbee when we’d first arrived. Just as my mind melded into a place of blissful existence, I felt something tiny and wet hit my back, and again. Oh no, I thought, was this perfect day ruined because of the rain, or was Blake simply standing over me, soaking wet from his trip in the water. And then I felt more drops that didn’t feel like water. It felt light and almost...cold. Maybe it was sand, being kicked up by running passerby. “Hey...Suzie.” I heard Marley but chose to ignore her, as I simply wanted to keep daydreaming about Frisbee boy. “OH MY GOSH GUYS!!!!!” Blake screamed at a volume that jolted me out of my sleepy state. “IT’S FREAKING SNOWING!!!!” I slowly turned over and watched in awe as tiny white bits fell lazily down and began to fall all across the sand. “What in the world...” I trailed off as there were really no words to describe what exactly was going on. How was it snowing in the middle of July? “Well, it’s kind of beautiful, isn’t it?” Marley smiled softly and stared out into the distance. All across the beach, the activity stopped. People just looked in wonderment as snowflakes danced through the air, landing on towels and beach balls, ocean soaked hair, and sun-kissed noses. And then, as if some mysterious presence had pressed play, people began to stir. Children danced around barefoot hopping in the sand, attempting to catch the snowflakes on their tongues. This included Blake, who ran around with his mouth agape as if he hadn’t had a bite to eat in days. I rolled my eyes but Marley giggled and hopped up to join him. Despite the intense heat from before, the snow began to accumulate the tiniest bit and I watched as Frisbee boy and his friends crafted golfball-sized snowballs. I lay back down, watching the snow drifting lazily towards me, certain that if I were to lay their long enough, no one could define me from the snow and the snow from me. Each time a snowflake hit me, my forehead, my arm, my toe, my nose, my whole body tingled as if to say, “Get indoors,” or “Put on a coat.” But it was not cold. The heat from the day still radiated from the ground. I looked to the sky and imagined I was in a snow globe. One moment, it was a perfectly peaceful day and the next my world exploded in a dusting of chilly, white fluff. I opened my mouth, eager to taste the chilly treat. As much as the sun brought comfort and warmth, the snow brought life and alertness. I was aware of the beauty of this moment, with no expectations of work, or family, or life. I could live in this unexplained moment, this unnatural phenomenon where I was neither the cause nor could I stop the occurrence. I simply had the joy of living and existing in this very weird moment in time. My mouth widened into a smile and I became giddy with joy. I jumped up, suddenly eager to join Marley and Blake in their pursuit of the snowflakes. My mind was set and I- “Oooof,” I raised my hand to my head, suddenly a little dizzy, barely registering a blue frisbee out of my peripheral vision. “Oh my goodness! I am so sorry!!!! My stupid friends threw it. Well, I’m the real idiot who couldn’t catch it.” I looked up to find Frisbee boy, smiling apologetically and offering to buy me an ice cream in exchange for not pressing charges for the damage done by his misguided frisbee. “Oh, it’s really okay!” I exclaimed, still giddy from the snow and frazzled from the sudden blunt impact. “Yeah, I guess snow and ice cream don’t really mix, huh?” He gave me that big goofy grin I first noticed when we arrived at the beach. “Stranger things have happened, I suppose.” I was smiling ear to ear and my heart thumped with vigor as if the rabbit from my childhood had made a guest appearance inside my chest. “I’m Samuel, by the way,” He stuck out his hand. I grabbed it, giving him a firm shake, “I’m Suzie.” It’s funny how life brings us just where we need to be. A day I thought I had certain control over; with my friend, the weather, and the perfect beach bliss, turned into something entirely new. It turned into something great. We must have the greatest expectations in life, but when life throws a curveball, or a snowball, in this case, we can only have even greater expectations for the journey and the wonderful moments these unexpected occurrences hold.


“By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire, and the wind had picked up,” Annie Arthur said. “Catherine and Blake Bevins lived in that house you know. They moved in here in November, nineteen eighty-seven...no, eighty-eight. It was raining the day the Bevins family moved into our little community. I baked them a welcome cake as soon as I saw the moving van pull into the drive. It was one of my famous chocolate cakes, with buttercream icing. I have never met anyone who didn’t enjoy one of my homemade chocolate cakes,” Annie said. “They took the cake but they did not thank me and they never returned my plate. That is not right. You expect boorish behavior from young people who don’t always follow social norms, I suppose. But Catherine and Blake were middle-aged when they moved in next door. They were old enough to know how to follow the rules, which they did not. I am not passing judgement, mind you, I’m just stating facts. The fact is, I told them there was a city ordinance against leaf burning. The ordinance was instated in August of ’87.” Annie smiled at Officer Wilkes. “You were probably toddling around in diapers back then, but your partner will remember all the hoopla over the decision. There was talk, for months, about the city stripping us citizens of our “rights”. Annie shook her head. “Foolishness is it was. Plain and simple. Leaf burning was dangerous and not a bit good for the environment. Remember how folks carried on, Officer...” Annie leaned forward, squinting at the officer’s nametag. “Parker? Officer Parker? Are you any relation to Elana Parker?” “Elana Parker is,” he shrugged, and gave a small shake of his head. “Elena Parker was my mother ma’am.” Annie recoiled as though the big man had slapped her. She pressed one hand to her chest and reached for the officer’s hand with the other. “Do not tell me Elana has passed on.” Officer Parker nodded, “It was two years in May ma’am. Cancer. Now, about your report of a fire...” “Oh dear. I had no idea about your mother. Elena and I attended school together, West Lake Elementary, and then West Lake High. She was a lovely girl. We lost track of one another, as people will do.” “Yes ma’am,” Officer Parker said again. “About the fire...” “I told Catherine and Blake that burning leaves was not permitted. I saw them raking all afternoon, on the day of the fire. I heard them too. They made such a racket out there all year round. It didn’t matter if it was hot or cold, rain or shine, they were out in that yard of theirs, making a ruckus. They talked about installing a pool, but I told them there was an ordinance against pools. I’m sure they didn’t take my word for it, but I know they were angry when they learned I’d been right. So, they bought a child’s wading pool, if you can imagine. A grown couple splashing around in a child’s wading pool. Those two thumbed their noses at authority every chance they got. It was shameful, the way they carried on.” “Miss Arthur,” Officer Wilkes said. “If we could just focus on the fire...” “There is no need to be rude, young man.” Annie said, testily. “And it’s Mrs. Arthur. I was married to my Henry, for fifty-eight wonderful years. Henry passed away five years ago.” she looked at Officer Parker. “Henry had cancer too. Though, surely not the same as your mother’s. Henry’s cancer was,” she glanced down and whispered, “in his privates, poor soul.” “You have my condolences, ma’am,” Officer Parker said. Annie raised her head and nodded. “We never had children. We wanted them, but we weren’t blessed in that way. I overheard a couple of the ladies in my church circle talking about my Henry just after he passed. That old busybody, Millie Post, had the nerve to suggest Henry’s cancer was the reason we never had children. Can you imagine gossiping about such thing? Unchristian, it was. I quit that church that instant. Removed my apron and walked out of Fellowship hall and never went back. When Pastor Upton called, to inquire after my health, I told him my health and my soul were no longer any of his concern.” “Mrs. Arthur--” “Oh, young man, I wouldn’t mind in the least if you called me Annie.” She smiled sadly. “There are so few people left, anymore, who call me by my given name. A person needs to hear someone call them by name every now and then, don’t you agree.” “Annie,” said Officer Parker, patiently. “We would like to talk to you about the fire you reported.” “Yes,” Annie said. “I told Chief Cummings I heard strange noises and ‘ by the time I stepped outside the leaves were on fire ’. He took me at my word. We talked about how times had changed; how leaf burning had been an autumn ritual for most of our lives, about what a nice job Henry did building our burn pit and what a shame it was that such a well-built pit would not be of any further use. Of course, once the ordinance passed, we stopped burning leaves and packed them up properly, in bags we dragged to the curb. That’s what folks who followed the rules did.” “Yes, ma’am,” Officer Parker said. “You’re suggesting there was a fire on the lot next to yours. On the west side of your house. That would be--” “Don’t be condescending, young man. I know where the west side of my house is. That’s the side with the empty lot.” “Correct, Mrs.--Annie,” Officer Wilkes said. “There is an empty lot next to your house. There hasn’t been a structure on that land in years, so you can understand our confusion over your call reporting a house fire at that location.” “The fire in question occurred in 1997. Catherine and Blake were inside the house, sleeping when the fire started,” Annie said. Officer Parker said. “It seems the couple how lived there had been burning leaves, that afternoon, and that evening, the wind picked up and blew embers up onto the roof. It had been an especially dry year, and the roof caught fire.” Annie nodded. “It’s a shame those two were not better neighbors.” “You had issues with the Bevins family?” Officer Parker asked. “Yes, as I’ve been telling you,” Annie said. “They were rule breakers.” “And that caused friction between you?” asked Officer Parker. “Henry was the peacemaker,” Annie said. “But Henry is gone now and there is no peace to be made. I have no children. I’m estranged from my church family and far too old to establish new relationships. Everyone I ever knew and cared about has passed on and I’ve received this,” she reached into her handbag and took out an envelope addressed to Anya Arthyr. Officer Parker took the notice and read it. “Your home has been condemned, Annie.” he said, grimly. “The city inspector says it’s structurally unsound and not safe for you to live there any longer.” Annie nodded. “The city sends me a letter saying they are taking away my home, and they don’t even bother to spell my name properly. Do you think that’s right?” she asked. “No, ma’am, I don’t,” said Officer Parker. “We can direct you to Social Services, someone there will be able to help you.” “Oh no, that won’t be necessary,” Annie said. “I am 83 years old; it’s time I face the music.” “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” said Officer Wilkes. “I lit the fire that burned down the Bevins house,” Annie said. “I did it to teach them a lesson, not that I’m excusing my behavior. I heard them talking, while they were raking leaves. They were supposed to go out of town that night. They raked the leaves into big piles, instead of bagging the leaves they way they were supposed to. They laughed about how they were going to show me where I could stick my ‘ordinances’ . They said they were going to light the piles before they left town. Catherine said she was sorry they wouldn’t be there to see the look on my snoopy old face when the fires took hold. Blake said it would be a real tragedy if the wind picked up and blew embers into my yard. Well sir, must admit, that got my dander up. So, after Henry went to bed, I went outside and lit the leaf piles myself. I can’t say I meant for the house to catch fire, but I can’t say I’m sorry it did. The fact that the Chief did a poor job of inspecting the scene does not mean a crime was not committed.” “You are confessing to the crime of setting your neighbors leaf piles on fire?” asked Officer Wilkes. “Yes young man” Annie said. She stood and held out both hands. “Time has robbed me of my loved ones and the city is taking my home. I have no family or friends to care for me, and what little money Henry left me is gone. I’ve confessed to the crimes of arson and homicide, you have no choice but to arrest and imprison me.” “Your confession will need to be investigated,” Officer Parker said. "As of now, we have no proof a crime was committed." “You have no proof that a crime was not committed,” Annie countered. “I am not a liar, but I lied to Chief Cummings. The truth is, when I stepped outside, the leaves were not on fire.”


FACEBOOK MARKETPLACE ROOMBA 600i Details: Condition -Used like new Description: Slightly used, comes with all accessories and two chargers. Price negotiable. Need gone ASAP. **** Christine kicked off her heels as soon as she walked through the door. The French baguette peeking out of the brown paper bag in her hands wobbled precariously as Sir Lancelot wove his way beneath her feet while she attempted to place the groceries on the bench. Lancelot was a Persian crossed with a rag-doll, and the combination equated to hair--lots of it. Christine scanned her critical eye over the apartment, clumps of fur wafted everywhere. She loved little Lancie immensely, but she didn’t love his hair. She sighed as she opened the hall cupboard to get out her cumbersome Hoover, a relic that had belonged to her mother, and had been passed down to her. It was time for its second workout of the day, and she just hoped the ancient beast was up for the task. The high-pitched groan was ominous, as was the smell of electrical burning that began moments after she had switched the machine on. Christine immediately disconnected the power and resigned herself to her fate. It was time to purchase a new vacuum. Unfortunately, her finances were still limited and so she opened her phone to browse Facebook marketplace. Surely she would find a deal there. It wasn’t as if she was fussy. Anything that would work would be better than trying to sweep up the unsweepable. The price caught her eye first, then the picture. A Roomba, a robot vacuum. Imagine coming home each day to a house that was freshly cleaned, no cat hair, no dust. The more she thought about it, the more Christine became convinced that she could not possibly live one more day without the services of her own personal Roomba robot. A quick series of messages back and forth, and soon Christine found herself the proud new owner of a secondhand robot vacuum. “Be careful with the settings, it’s a bit of a beast, if you’re not keeping an eye on it,” the previous owner had advised her. She’d smiled and nodded, figuring that the internet would have all the instruction manuals and safety precautions listed somewhere. Once she plugged in the charging dock, Christine googled the instructions and set the operating time to run twice a day while she was at work. With a happy sigh, she fed Lancie his dinner, reheated leftovers for herself and went to bed. *** She was jolted awake at four in the morning by a soft mechanical whirring, and solid, repeated thumps that shook her bed. Lancie, startled awake from his sleeping position at the foot of her bed, hissed violently as he landed on her chest, claws extended. It took her a bleary moment to connect the dots, but she finally realised she’d set the timer incorrectly, setting the machine to work at 4am instead of 4pm. It seemed to be stuck trying to vacuum under her bed, catching itself repeatedly on the leg and unable to navigate its way out of the situation. The bright lights, like little eyes, glinted with frustration, which echoed her own emotional state. It really was way too early for her to remember the settings, so she stumbled out of bed as she tried to whack the off button on the machine. It finally powered down with a petulant wheeze, the lights blinking off sadly. Placating Lancie took much longer, as his fur was literally on end, but after much stroking and coaxing, the cat settled back at the foot of the bed, curled up in a cat ball and purred himself to sleep. The following morning, after feeding Lancie his breakfast, Christine studied the online manual closely as she absently munched on toast and sipped her coffee. Carefully following the instructions, she set the timer, double checking the AM/PM setting. From his sunny position on the windowsill, Lancie hissed and arched his back. A familiar whirring caught her attention and a soft bumping nudged her toes. When she looked beneath the table, the Roomba was carefully vacuuming the crumbs she had spilled. “Odd,” she muttered. “I haven’t turned you on yet. Must be a saved setting from the previous owner.” She didn’t have time to look for the ‘clear all settings’ section of the manual, but resolved to look into it after work. *** Once again Christine was rudely awoken at 4am by the repeated thumping of the machine and the yowling hiss of the cat as Lancie landed claws first on her chest. “For the love of...!” she muttered, tossing her blanket aside to deal with the rogue machine. This time, the off button seemed to stick, and she was unable to power it down. “Well, if you won’t switch off, you may as well do your job out here!” Christine shoved the machine into the living room and firmly closed her bedroom door. Lancie would be alright for a couple of hours. She’d let him out for a kitty litter break as soon as the sun was up. The morning brought chaos. Christine’s living room was spotlessly clean, immaculate even, but she couldn’t find her shoes. She usually kicked them off by the front door, but they were nowhere to be seen. She rummaged under the sofa and coffee tables, just in case she had kicked them off in the living room, and then crawled into the dust bunnies under her bed, on the off chance they were there, but to no avail. Finally, she had to do a quick change of outfit so that she could wear the more casual loafers in the back of her wardrobe and rushed out of the door, late for work. When she came home, Christine kicked off her shoes near the door as she juggled the bags of groceries she’d purchased after work. The light on the Roomba’s dock was flashing, indicating that the dust bin needed emptying, so she dumped the heavier bags on the floor to attend to the task. When she lifted the lid, a mystery was solved. There, in shreds, were her lovely leather, high-healed shoes. They’d obviously been caught by the Roomba over night and had become a casualty of the cleaning machine. “At least there’s a reasonable explanation,” she sighed as she took the small dustbin to empty into the outside bin, happy that she wasn’t losing her mind, but not happy about the cost of replacing her favourite shoes. When she returned, she cried out in alarm. The Roomba was stuck on the paper shopping bag and its whirring brushes had opened a hole in the washing powder box. Fine white ponder was flying everywhere. “Oh, for the love of...!” she cried in exasperation as she extracted the paper bag from the maw of the machine. She set it to clean up the white laundry powder while she packed the rest of the groceries away. When she turned from the pantry after putting the last item on the shelf, she nearly tripped over the Roomba that had silently moved its cleaning path right behind her, its lights blinking up at her like two besotted eyes. With a gasp, she stopped herself from falling just in time by grabbing the fridge door with one hand and banging her other forearm hard on the kitchen bench. She cried out in pain, and she wrenched the freezer open to get an ice pack. Pressing the ice to her smarting injury, she trudged into the living room to rest and assess the damage. Hopefully, she hadn’t broken anything. The skin was still intact, but she’d have a huge bruise tomorrow, no doubt. Lancie curled up next to her and purred as she scratched his head with one hand. She’d just relaxed enough for the shock and pain to wear off when the cat hissed and leapt from the couch. A soft whirring approached, and the Roomba trundled in, bumping gently into Christine’s feet. “Goodness, you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” she told the machine as she stood up to make herself some dinner and pour Lancie some Kitty kibble into his food bowl. Christine shut her bedroom door that evening, determined to get a full night sleep and not be woken by a marauding machine at an ungodly hour. She had to lock Lancie out, much to his disgust, as she didn’t want him to lose access to his litter tray and have an accident in her bedroom. Her sleep was undisturbed, and she woke refreshed and ready to begin the day. In the kitchen, she noticed that Lancie had not finished his dinner last night. The bowl was still full of kibble. “Lancie, here Kitty, Kitty,” she called as she opened a can of cat food. He was not around, sulking, most likely because she didn’t let him sleep on her bed. “I’ll leave it here for you, then.” She emptied the old kibble and replaced it with some tuna. As Christine ate her toast, she felt the whirring of little brushes bumping into her toes, so she lifted her feet to allow the Roomba to pass under the table on its morning cleanup rotation. She’d long since given up the idea of setting the machine to work when she was not home. It seemed to have a mind of its own and cleaned at all sorts of random times during the day. She didn’t think much of the little trail of red on her foot when she put her loafers on, just brushed the smudge away. “Bye Lancie,” she called as she left for work. The cat was still sulking. Perhaps he’d be more cuddly when she got home. When she returned, her apartment smelt like rotting fish and she gagged as she opened the door. The cat food was still sitting in the bowl uneaten and flies were buzzing around the dish, along with a trail of ants. Quickly, Christine disposed of the food. “Lancie?” she crooned gently and then again, more urgently. Perhaps the cat was unwell. The Roomba’s light indicated a full dust bin and Christine noticed the trail of ants marching up the side. She opened the lid and screamed. Blood and fur and pulverised viscera filled the bin. She ran to the bathroom and heaved, retching up the contents of her stomach as tears ran down her face. From behind her there was a whirring sound, and the Roomba looked at her with its bright lights unblinking. **** FACEBOOK MARKETPLACE ROOMBA 600i Details: Condition -Used like new Description: Slightly used, comes with all accessories and two chargers. Price negotiable. Need gone ASAP.


It all began on the dirt paths outside of home. Mai had been running for gods-know how long. Her body hadn’t yet started to break down, but it was a matter of time until it began; she was but mortal, with mortal trappings and limitations. The young noble’s skirts swirled and flowed around her legs as she ran at top speed through the forest. Her lungs burned and screamed at her to stop, take a break, just for a drink of water, but Mai couldn’t afford that. A sharp reminder in the form of a thrown knife soared over her shoulder, leaving a gash in her cheek. It buried itself in a tree trunk; as Mai ran past, she snatched the hilt with a snort of disdain. *Sloppy. They were getting sloppy...and tired. Couldn’t they have just hired a decent catspaw and get this over with?* Finally, her heart couldn’t take it. It stole the breath from her lungs, forcing the young void genasi to a stop. She sat a moment, chest heaving. Water had never tasted so sweet, and Mai drank from her waterskin with the fervor of a desert traveler on the road for weeks. And that’s when she saw him. A human boy, the same age as her. Maybe her age, maybe a bit older; it was hard to tell with humans, sometimes. A little rough around the edges; dark hair scruffy from days on the road, dirt soaked into his clothes. Though the longsword at his hilt gave her pause - it was *nice*, the kind that could be found in the armory at home, it was far more likely the child of a smith than another child of nobility. Why would nobility wear dirt so proudly, smile so brazenly? There was something about that face, though. It needled the back of her brain, fuzzy with TV static. Perhaps she had run across him in Chūkū no mura during her last excursion in town, or during one of her father’s many court parties. There was just something so familiar about him... A pair of curious green eyes met her gaze, which had lingered just a tad too long for common courtesy. The void genasi immediately broke it off, getting to her feet and turning away. Before she could speak, a second dagger identical to the one in her hand in her hand pinned her to the tree by her forearm, just outside the boy’s view. Mai bit her tongue. No way was she giving them the satisfaction of a cry of pain. She would go down like a lady. The boy melted away into the shadows. Good. He’d left. She would hate to involve a stranger in her family business. With her company gone, the catspaw revealed himself: some other human in black garb, face hidden beneath a swath of cloth. At his hilt was an array of daggers like the ones in her hand and arm. Even though his face was hidden, Mai could swear she saw the catspaw smirk. “So, do I at least get the pleasure of knowing which of my wonderful siblings sent you?” No response. The catspaw simply drew nearer. Despite her better efforts, Mai felt her breath grow shallower. Was this what fear felt like? Anyone normal would be scared, with their death drawing ever closer. But she wasn’t just anyone. As they came to a stop not but five feet away, Mai turned her head up, violet eyes narrowed to slits. “No? Did they take your tongue as well as your agency when they adopted you into whatever Fates-forsaken place you work for? You speak when spoken to!” Silence. “Fine, keep your secrets. I’m sure my father will find the information some other way.” Those words gave the catspaw visible pause. The Daimyo of Death. Though there was plenty of time for the inheritance to settle, it was well known that Mai was a favorite for the spot despite her...wilder inclinations. It was also well known what exactly would come to pass to those who would harm even a hair upon her head, should the word reach the Daimyo’s ears. “Perhaps we could work something out. What did they pay you? I have gold, platinum, jewels. We could go separate ways, you with a heavier purse, and me to vanish and never be heard from again. And this little scene? Never happened.” He seemed to truly think it over. Mai felt her heart flutter, hope warming her soul. Perhaps...? Reality hit in the form the cold steel of a second dagger in her other arm. For a moment, all Mai could see was the blade embedded in her flesh. Then the pain hit, and she couldn’t hold back a yelp as she was forced flush against the trunk of the tree. Again, beneath that mask, Mai could swear the catspaw was smirking. “I’ve heard tales about this dress. Handmade, just for you. Some worthless concubine’s daughter, in clothes this nice.” He tilted his head. “That silk’s worth a pretty penny, you know. Maybe if you let take it off you, I’ll have a bit of mercy.” Terror surged through the young genasi as the catspaw stepped forward, but she kept her face neutral. She was going to die here. No, not just die...but she couldn’t think about that now. Blood rushed to her head, heartbeat thudding in her ears. She had to find a way out of this. She *had* to. Mai spit at his feet. “Go to the Hells, you piece of-“ And that’s when the boy reappeared. Longsword now drawn, he descended from a nearby tree and cleaved a hand clean off her sibling’s hiree. Letting out his own roar of pain, the man stumbled back as the human boy from before positioned himself in front of Mai. For all of a moment, Mai could see him grown up, clad in plate and a knight’s helmet. Her protector. Then she blinked the dust from her eyes, and once again a young boy remained. For just the briefest of moments, Mai let that hope work its way back into her chest. “Who are you? What do you want with her?” The boy stood his ground. He’d obviously been trained. For a moment, Mai forgot her circumstances and admired his form from her position against the tree. Perhaps she might be fine after all. “Just to bring her back to her father. This one’s a runaway. Surely you wouldn’t get between a father and his daughter?” “And would her father approve of the daggers in her arms? Or the removing of her skirts?” The catspaw’s eyes went wide. He looked from the boy to Mai and back to the boy. A tense silence ensued; again, Mai could hear her heart thundering in her ears. Then the hiree shook his head, grabbed his hand from where it rested on the ground, and walked off into the woods without another word. After a couple minutes, the crunch of leaves beneath his boots faded into the forest’s natural ambience. When the boy turned back around, Mai did her best to fight back tears and wear a smile. It wasn’t long before her composure cracked; she broke down, tears streaming down her purple cheeks. The boy seemed to panic a bit at the sudden change in demeanor, but quickly got to work removing the daggers from her arms. Almost immediately Mai’s legs gave out, the stranger catching her in a quick embrace before she could hit the ground. “It’s alright, miss. I’ve got you.” Mai let herself be comforted for a moment. Not two miles from here, the person who would typically do this job would be growing cold soon. Surely her father would have come across the body, found her missing. More than any catspaw, Mai feared her father’s wrath once he discovered that she had fled the scene, though the dead body of the second catspaw alongside her mother’s might alleviate her punishment a bit. “...do you have a name I could use, perchance?” Mai blinked, quickly becoming aware of the muscled chest she was nestled against. Immediately she shoved the boy away, face burning a more reddish purple than usual. With a quick wave of her hand, the void genasi cleaned up her clothes and recomposed herself. “My name is none of your business. Now, I know a favor when a favor is due; if you could come with me, I think I know something which might suit your tastes.” Chūkū no mura wasn’t too far off; she could probably get there within the hour, if she hurried. The young noble began to walk through the forest again, with purpose. The boy followed behind after a moment. Now that they were standing side by side, Mai could see he easily had a couple inches on her; she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. His dirt-soaked clothes were as well made as the longsword, which now rested at his hip once more. Who in the world was this kid? “I’m Wolfgang, by the way.” The name hit that same wall in the back of her head, rested on the tip of her tongue. Familiar, so very familiar. But from where? “You can call me Hu-san.” “Husan? Alright.” “No, Hu-san. Like with the honorific.” “Ho-no-rific? That’s a big word, Husan. Big words for kids like you and me.” Mai was about to rip into him when she heard the rumblings of laughter from within Wolfgang. He was just fucking with her. With a roll of her eyes, Mai returned her attention to the road ahead. “So...where are you taking me, Hu-san?” “To the best ramen shop I know. My father knows the person who runs it. I might be able to get a message home from there.” “And what’s a ramen?” Horrified, Mai whirled around. “Do you even know what a dumpling is?” “Like spaetzle?” “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that.” “Like spaetzle. Got it.” ------ The Underwater Blossom was just as delicious as Mai remembered. Though he enjoyed the ramen as she did, Wolfgang took a special shine to the gyoza, quickly collecting a small pile of side dishes beside him. It was almost impressive how many he managed to eat at once, though his use of chopsticks could stand to be a little better. When she had a moment, Mai excused herself to “the bathroom” and disappeared into the back room. It was a place she’d spent many hours of her life, waiting as her father and the establishment owner talked business. Dai Akibara was a lovely man of many talents: cooking, running a business, but most of all: networking. Mai had no idea how much blood was shed to make sure this restaurant was still standing, and she didn’t really want to know. “Little Hu, as I live and breathe. I can’t help but notice you come accompanied by an unfamiliar face. Does your father know you’re here?” “I need you to take a message for me.” Akibara didn’t question it, simply grabbing a piece of parchment from his desk. When a Hu made an order, he listened. “Whenever you’re ready, dear.” “I’m fine and well. I just wandered into the woods. Stopped to smell the blossoms. I will be home soon, don’t worry too much. You can reach me the usual way if you need something.” Akibara scribbled each word down on the parchment in his neat Hokutan script. “And will that be all, little Hu?” She hesitated. “...tell him I’m sorry about Mom.” Akibara’s face contorted with confusion, but he wrote it down in his typical chicken scratch. “Anything else?” “That should be good. Another order of the gyoza, for the road. My companion did me a great service and I wish to repay him for his efforts.” “Does that have anything to do with those slashes in your sleeves?” She waved a hand over her sleeves, the silk suddenly continuous once more. “What slashes?” Akibara let out a sigh. “Amai.” Mai stiffened at the use of her given name. “Be careful. You’re always welcome here.” So it wasn’t a lecture. The muscles Mai hadn’t even realized had tensed up relaxed. “I will be, Uncle Aki. Just make sure Papa gets that note, okay?” “Alright, Little Hu. Now head out there. The gyoza should be there by the time you take your seat again.” With a brief hug, he sent her off. True to his word, Wolfgang was surrounded by a dozen extra plates when she sat down, piled high with dumplings of all kinds. Claiming a couple for herself, Mai began to pack her remaining dumplings into her mess kit for later. After performing the dance of payment - Mai offering her gold, Akibara refusing, and Mai insisting - Mai headed outside and back to the mouth of the forest. Wolfgang followed. “So, I suppose this is where we split ways. I can give you some of the dumplings if you’d like.” “Thank you, Hu-san. They were delicious, truly.” Wolfgang paused a moment. “Do you need to be home right this minute?” Mai thought about it for a moment. “Not really.” She blinked, almost surprised by her immediate response. “You want to see what’s on the other side of that mountain?” The young boy pointed off into the distance, where the crest of Hana no yama peeked through the trees. Tales told of a dragon who lived at the mountain’s peak and would grant a wish to any brave enough to ascend to his lair. They exchanged a glance. Then Mai shrugged. “You know what? Sure. And it’s Mai, by the way.” “Alright, Mai. Let’s get going, then.” And so they did.


I became a woman in bright orange walls. I became a woman like most do: grown before we could be girls. Aflame in hot houses, born into war zones, you start to like the burning. Mother was a heatseeker, all ashy lungs and cigarette scars. Soot filled smiles and such. She came from a long chain of smilers, all burst from the same blister. All living only halfway alive. They were all dead before they hit the ground; for as much as that word counted, anyways. I wish I could hate her. Hate the things she tried to build from the same bricks that made her. The most I can do is feign apathy. I wish I’d been fashioned just as foolishly. Just as beautifully. That’s the only niche nice women get to fill here. Birth giving butterflies: breakable and beautiful. She’d always believe in the lord and his plans. That everything would work out for us all in the end. It was one of the many things that, now, I wish I was capable of believing. *** I’m partway the mould of the first not-a-woman I met. A monarch collector. Wrinkled and grey in a way women weren’t meant to be. Jezebel wasn’t gentle, soft spoken or refined, just alive. It made that enough, in its own special way. Jez was born cross eyed, ugly, half blind and managed to see more of the world than any woman I knew or could hope, then, to be. It was never made to be a beautiful thing, just to make them. Jezebel was a painter, not a mother. It didn’t draw smiles, just the butterflies it had always been too nearsighted to see in the sky. Too myopic to snatch out of the sunlight. That was my job. A penny a piece. No one knew Jez’s real name. That, or they’d tried too hard to forget. To forget how the thing was born from the womb of exactly that which it could never be. Lost to time, and label loving, the town settled for the irony of backhanded biblical allusions. Jez was the first to let me know my father wasn’t gonna make it to midsummer. That you can’t treat what you don’t know you’re fighting. Then she just shrugged and passed me a mason jar. She told me to find myself a caterpillar. I flew home on wings of adolescent anger that day, just wanting to scream at the sky. I wanted to hit, to hurt something. I liked the feeling. I liked being on fire: being something I wasn’t supposed to be. I liked the sting in my eyes, the salt of it all. I liked becoming something my mother could never quite be: alive to the point of tears. Till I teared. Mother scolded me that evening, when I burst through the doorway. For the dust in my hair, the scabs on my knees and crushed glass in my hands. For that dangerous, dark part of me that yearned to be free. To be the one thing a woman in the sixties could never really be. I was too young to see how that protected me. I was too young to know that women weren’t supposed to be bruised; that men’s fists weren’t meant to get so loose late at night, when the beer bottles went empty to their bottoms. I’d need a few more years: time to understand my mother’s mantras and smiles. The shields of ‘everything being just fine’. The truth was, that mum could never be free, not while she had me. My father was a cadmium miner, like most men in that orange painted town. He brought home enough to pay the bills, and, if that was enough to feed me, she could take the bruises. If it was for me, she could dare to think he’d pull through; that we’d make it to the other side. She could swear that God had a plan till the cows came home. Till dad’s lungs finished exploding. Illusion was what kept that woman together at the seams, it’s a skill I wish I’d let myself learn. Instead, I just cocooned. I accepted. Jezebel had taught me, years ago, about the monarch’s cycle of life. How, in chrysalids, they managed to totally dissolve. They became, in all ways, unmade. Skin and meat turned to something like wine, just to rebuild those broken parts of themselves into something that could fly. Scientists, Jez would say, didn’t know how they kept memories when their neurons melted to goo. When they were totally destroyed. Jezebel said it’s because those scientists had never been women before. We’d learn, in time, that it was dust that did dad in. Haze in the underground air, the same substance that made the orange of our house’s painted drywall. Monarch tinged, lung killing despair. It drove my mother to the brink: to do herself in. She did it for so many reasons I now understand. I think she learned to love our house out of hell: dad’s punches and the burning. I think she’d always leaned on her smile, on some trust in God’s plan. That dad would bring his fists back to work one day.


So...I am basically a zombie. My body is rotting, I can't feel pain and other sensation either, my heart stopped and my head keeps rolling on the floor every time I turn it around. But I must say I am STILL not a zombie. As to why here is my story. It all started in the year 2050 when Science was taking over the whole world. Flying cars were invented, food turns into pills, houses were portable, and gadgets and other daily necessities can be stored in just a whip of a finger. Thinking back 50 years or maybe 100 years back it was impossible, that it will be something unconvincing like magic. But we, scientists made it all possible. Playing with our science knowledge and adding a little bit of imagination we made it all possible. Until that time when our team finally made a cure to all sickness with the help of a mushroom. Yep, Mushroom! Ophiocordyceps unilateralis or also known as Ant-Zombie fungus. It was discovered back in the 18th century by a British Naturalist called Alfred Russel Wallace and it was a study of a fungus taking charge of an ant somewhere on a certain tropical forest. It is a fungus that takes over an insect to be zombified, creepy? yes, but when we look at it medically it was known that this fungus and it's related species can produce secondary metabolism for the production of substances acting as antibacterial agents that protect the fungus-host ecosystem against further pathogenesis during fungal reproduction. Because of this secondary metabolism , an interest in the species has been taken by natural product chemists and was discovered to produce small molecules agent that can be used as a human immunomodulatory (something to do with human immunity) , anti-infective and anti-cancer agents. It's all good and these hundreds of years of research are all for the humanities advantage but it all came to a halt when we test it to human clones. At first, it was all going well, the surgeries went well because their feeling of pain is not that active and the small molecules produced by the fungus can be controlled and it indeed helps us cut the spreading of cancer cells but all hell broke when those human clones used for testing newly crafted cure wreck havoc in the lab and turn us into zombies. It's a shame but the hundred years of work is still a failure, now here I am lurking around aimlessly while picking up my rotting eye and sticking it back on my eye socket. I walk towards the gas station and sit on the bench. I saw a vending machine filled with my favorite chocolate milkshake but my rotting tummy will surely fail so I just look at it and reminisce the flavor of it. My friend, Julian which is also my colleague sat beside me and growl. "What should we do now?" He asked. I pull out my eyes and gave it to him. "Just talk to my eye, Julian. I can't turn my head since I am tired of picking it up on the ground." I said. My eye may be out of my body but I can still see him. I wonder why too. I roam my sight and saw how rotten he is. He used to be the best looking guy in the lab but now look at him. His jaw that used to be his asset is barely hanging on his face. You might wonder why we can still think, well for a further explanation this fungus can affect the body but it can't affect the brain. That's good news if you ask me but the probability is only 10%. In short in every 100 only 10 people can think so 90% of the population in the whole world are our enemies! Our goal? Look for zombies that can think like us and regain humanity once more by delivering our research to a certain person. But the human soldiers are not that smart. Since they claimed that all of us are just a lump of rotting meat walking and killing humans. Actually, we are not. A human may be infected when they sniff the pollen coming from our head but we don't infect them by biting. We are not harmful at all except to those bastards that caused the misunderstanding. They scare people for fun that's why their heads were blown off making them dead. Most of the fungus is on our head but it does not affect our brain so if someone blows our head into pieces our body automatically stops functioning. And oh, at night we have fo find a place with the perfect temperature to hide so that the fungus continues to grow and we won't die. Sun is not harmful to us but It can slow the fungus growth causing us to stop moving for a while. I saw him snort while looking at my face. "what?" I asked but the guy just snort again and said. " You look funny" I roll my other eye and snort back at him and said. "I saw a gun tucker inside that abandoned house. Use it to tucked back your falling jaw, Julian." He snorts back at me and I do the same. When our attention was caught by a crying child. A child seriously?! At this place where unconscious zombies might infect her?! I hurriedly walk limply towards the crying voice, leaving my eye with Julian. And upon arriving at the place I saw a girl hugging her doll tightly while crying. I hush her but the girl cries louder making me panic a little. "Stop! Don't cry or those zombies might hear you and approach you!" I said but the girl cries more when I saw a flying arm towards my direction slapping my face. It was from Julian. "Why did you slap me?!" I asked but my friend shut me up. "Don't talk! Remember, we lost our communication ability. All humans can't understand us except our growling!" He said. Oh yes, Humans don't understand us. Sorry, I forgot. Julian then looks at me with furrowed brows and looks at the girl slightly lifting his eyes and curving it into a smile. The girl miraculously stops crying and looks at him. Seriously, this guy is insane. We found the little girl shocked on her spot shivering. "Julian you can stop now! Julian!" I exclaimed Startling him and making his head slips off his hand. What should we do? We need to communicate with this girl and deliver her back home safely. I roam my eyes when Julian's head comes rolling at me making my eye pop out of its socket and roll around the grass. I was about to fight Julian to death, even though we are dead when my eyes was poked by a stick. I walk towards it, pick it up together with my eye, and walk back at the girl. I start to write using the burnt part of the stick. "Who are you? Where you came from? Who are you with?" I asked the girl. The girl with shivering lips said. "I am Anna Hutchins, I was with my father, his name is George Hutchins. He is looting on that grocery store but I got distracted by a beautiful butterfly and got separated from my father." She explained while holding her tears. I look at him pitifully and wrote on the ground again. "Do you remember your house?" She hesitated for a moment but she gingerly nods her head. "Don't be scared, I and my stupid friend will take you home" I wrote as she smiles at me and nods her head. When I remember the most important thing. I hurriedly wrote on the ground again. "Who's your father again?" She looks at me and answered "George Hutchins" Our eyes almost fall out and realized something. George Hutchin is the head researcher and the most knowledgeable in our field. We thought he turned to one of us but he did not! I'm so glad! Now we can deliver that to him. Julian look at me and said. "We can gain humanity again!" He growls and cheers making the girl gasped in fright. I slap him and reminded him to stop growling at the girl. He just smiles and nods as we cheer together, pumping our fist in the air. I look at the girl and wrote again. "Listen, Anna, don't get too close to us you might sniff the pollen on us and turn into a zombie, and don't get too far from us either or we can't protect you against those curious zombies that can't think. Don't take your mask off too, you understand?" I asked. She looks at us and gingerly nods then I offer her the stick and she holds it tightly as we walk on the road towards the lab to fetch the research papers bearing the last after-effects of the drug. We just walk the road limply with my hands connected to the stick that Anna is holding from the other side while Julian drags his feet while singing a song walking alongside us. Sometimes we stop and let Anna rest a little. Walking without stopping is not a problem for us even with rotting bodies but to Anna, It's difficult. We also stop on empty houses to let her sleep until morning while we guard the house all night and feed her almost anything edible we saw on the way. Days and weeks past just like that and slowly we saw a glimpse of Anna's heart finally opening to us making me and Julian happy. It's been almost a year since that unfortunate day when the whole world turns into chaos but looking at it now, It's quite peaceful, at least in this place... I'm pretty sure the soldiers are doing their job by eradicating the scattered wandering dead bodies on the place. Anna suddenly stops on her tracks and whip her head towards a certain house. "Anna?" I called but she did not leave her eyes on that house and walk towards it with somber eyes. I was about to stop her but Julian stops me so we just watch her as she walk inside the gate and sat on one of the chairs. It was a modern house that looks like it's been left out during a birthday party since a Happy Birthday banner is still hanging on the wall of the house and the rotten cake was all over the ground. I saw Anna wiped her tears and sobs. I poke her with the stick and write on the ground. "Is this your house?" I asked. She look at me somberly and nods, her tears are still flowing down her cheeks. "It was my 10th birthday when suddenly a group of wounded people came at us and bit our guest. Dad was quick to shelter me but too late to shelter mom back inside the house. We saw how those guys devore mom and turned her into something scary." She explained. "Devour? As far as I know, It can't affect even if we bit people" I said when Julian reminded me of something. "It was those hooligans fault. Remember Jack with his followers who scare the humans and act like those zombies on the movie?" Julian said. Oh yeah, Those guys whose head were blown by the soldiers. I sigh at the thought of it when Julian walk hurriedly and fix the banner. Picking up his idea I quickly pull up the chairs and tables and put the cupcake I got from the abandoned grocery store and put the candle on top of it without removing the plastic. I tap Anna with the stick and wrote on the ground. "Happy Birthday Anna, Sorry to know what you've been through" I look at her apologetically knowing how we start it all. Jullian and I sing a happy birthday song that sounds like a growling animal on Anna's ear but luckily it made her happy. She pretends to light up the candle and blow on it and with that, we happily celebrated her birthday, though it's just a pretend birthday party hoping that It could cheer up Anna a little. Then Julian lean down and get the stick from me to write on the ground too. "It's okay Anna, We'll restore humanity and celebrate your birthday again!" He said making Anna broke into a small smile, relieving us. She then runs towards a big box and rampage through it, she then both gave us a magic blackboard toy with a pen. "By the way who are you two? I was too scared before to know who you are...but you sure are different from those who we encounter before" She wrote on the board and smile at us, we both look at each other before we answer. "I am Jeraldine Anderson and This is Julian Ward. We are both from the City and our job is the same as your father." I wrote. "Your father is our colleague and we must give the papers to your father before Humanity was swept out by this fungus that turned people into zombies," Julian explained further. She then pulls the button that erases her notes and writes again. "I can help you too! I promise I won't hold you back!" She said and pump her fist on the air. We chuckle and thanked her as we exit the house when a shotgun suddenly burst my arm. Jullian hurriedly pull my other arm and hid us behind his back. "Let go of that child!" An angry and rotting old man with a shotgun said threatening us to burst our heads if we won't let her go. "Child let's go here," He said. Looking at him he's like us too. He's infected maybe just a month ago since he's still fresh. "Are you an idiot old man?! She can't understand us! All you're doing is making her scared!" Julian explained. The old guy then burst Julian's arm making Anna scream in fright as he hurriedly reloads his shotgun. Without knowing what to do. I pull out my liver and throw it at him making Anna's face contort in disgust and pull the stick and run. "Jullian hurry up and run!" I screamed but the old man shot his limpy leg making him stumble. Our eyes widen as we saw Jullian hug the old guy's leg buying us some time to run. "Run now! Go to the lab and bring the research paper to Profesor Hutchins!" He said while struggling. Then we run as fast as we could away from the place. I turn my head around and saw the old man pointing the gun to Julian's head. "Remember bring back the humanit-- BANG!" He didn't finish his words when the old man burst his head off. I am crying but i was too dry so there are no tears falling. I quickly enter the password in the lab and get the research paper. The old guy is still hunting us so I put the research papers on a sealable plastic bag and put it to Anna's bag. I hurriedly wrote on the lab's whiteboard telling her to go and gave it to her father while I am stopping the old man. She cries and shakes her head, not wanting to leave me behind. "Anna! Don't be stubborn go now!" I growl but as expected she doesn't understand me so I quickly poke her with the stick and asked her to hide under the table. The old rotting man finally came and cock his shotgun at me. "Where's the child?" He asked. But I just look at him. I pull my right kidney and throw it at him but he's not deterred. At this rate, I might lose all my internal organs. So I quickly think of a way to get that gun when my eyes laid on something. I slowly walk towards the red button and look at him. "Go to hell mother fu*ker!" I said and push the button startling him. The whole lab turns red because of the emergency button that I pushed and a loud noise filled the whole place making him panic a little. I use the opportunity and pull the gun with the help of my intestine and shot his head off. I slowly approach the table where Anna is hiding and urge her to come out. We left the place and walk towards the city where the soldiers and other humans are. The things that happened are still fresh on my mind and I know, that I shouldn't feel pain but my chest feels like it hurts every time I remember Julian. His contorted smile, his rotting face, his falling jawline...gosh! How stupid it is to just realize that I am in love with my best friend? My thoughts were cut by Anna's voice. "Father!!!!" She exclaimed and let go of the stick to run for his father's embrace. I smile at that image knowing that Anna suffers miserably due to our mistake and probably most of the people in the world including me. Noticing my love for my best friend when my body is already rotting. I was about to turn my back when I heard Anna's voice. "No father! Don't!" She exclaimed as bullets shower on me erasing my whole existence. Too bad, I was hoping to have a heartwarming farewell to Anna but I guess looking like this, It's impossible. Goodbye Anna. "Hey! What are you laying on the ground for?" I heard Julian said. I quickly stand up and face him. His face is not rotting and his jaw is still intact...I smile at him and said. "I love you!" She smiles at me and holds my hand. "I know," He said as we walk towards the stair up in the sky.


“I am a mystery to be solved.” The words whispered through his mind, echoing down the empty corridors of his thoughts. His gaze returned to her again and again. She was a completely average looking student with mousy brown hair that would never garner a second glance from most. In fact, he wasn’t sure he had seen anyone take notice of her these last few weeks. She was always reading a book, sitting in the same spot, dressed in the same style of vintage clothing that seemed all the rage in thrift stores these days. Why was she here all the time? He ripped his eyes away from her, forcing himself to re-read the same passage again for the tenth time. At the end, he found he still hadn’t managed to absorb any of it. He growled without realizing it, only to be shushed by a passing student for being noisy. His thoughts raced in circles, knowing he would fail this test unless he could get back on task. Without conscious thought, his attention drifted to her once again. He saw her look up and lock eyes with him as if she had sensed him staring. It was an unsettling electric connection that neither seemed willing or able to break. Her eyes held a challenge in them, as if to say “Can you solve me?” As the tension grew, she finally closed her book and stood up. Without breaking eye contact he watched her back up into the aisle between the stacks and stretched out a hand crooking her finger, making it clear that she wished him to follow. The shadows seemed to envelop her as she continued to drift backwards. The last thing to disappear was her beckoning hand and then she was gone. He closed his book abruptly at this further distraction from his vitally important studying. He knew it would be impossible to concentrate with that beckoning image in his mind. He quickly decided that he should follow and get his answers so that he could put his mind at rest and regain his ability to focus. He stood and swiftly moved into the shadows that had consumed her image. As his eyes adjusted he saw a flap of her checkered skirt disappearing around the distant corner. He rushed to follow, trying to keep his footsteps quiet within the hushed atmosphere. As he reached the end and looked towards where she had gone he saw her shoe slip from view. The thrill of the chase was quickly replaced by a sense of victory as he knew she had gone down a dead end towards the windows of the library. He knew that the only thing down there was a small nook for displaying holiday decorations. He had her at last. This game of cat and mouse would end and her mystery would be answered. He wore a smirk on his face when he looked down the corridor and she wasn't there. The little minx was leading him on a game of hide and seek and she must have tucked herself away in the display area just out of sight. He popped his head around the corner saying “Gotcha!” and his confusion was palpable when he found it was empty. He looked behind him knowing there was no other way out. Perhaps, this was the mystery to be solved. He began searching the small nook for any clues that might explain her disappearance. He found worn scratches, faded with age along the back wall, which could indicate that it might slide. It took him several tries to find a section with enough grip on the surface to allow him to move the thin wall sideways. There seemed to be a hidden force attempting to push back and keep the wall from sliding open. Once he got his fingers in it was easier to push it open, but the force remained and he had to hold it there to see what secrets were revealed. It was a thrilling discovery, a dark opening that seemed to beckon him forward with an irresistible invitation to his curious mind. With his studies forgotten, he once again lost himself to the thrill of the chase. He pulled out his cell phone and activated the flashlight, shining its pale glow into the yawning pit of the unknown before him. He shifted himself sideways through the narrow opening which seemed to hardly get much use and the panel slid quickly shut as soon as he released his hold upon it. The dust on the floor was thick and undisturbed, but elsewhere the air currents from his movement caused a swirling cloud to arise, assaulting his nose and reflecting the light from his phone. His quarry was still nowhere to be seen. She continued to elude him but he knew it wouldn't be for much longer. He would soon solve this mystery and his mind would be free of these obsessive thoughts once again. The space seemed to be a small storage area, forgotten by time and unused for decades. There was no point in looking at the shelves or the small boxes. He limited his searching to places that could fit the mystery girl. He looked behind a stack of boxes and on the far side of a cabinet. He even checked inside the cabinet in case it was empty enough for her to hide in. He found nothing. There was only one place left to check. An old steamer trunk with a rounded lid that looked like a pirate's chest stood before him. He could only imagine that it must have been used for a prop in some school musical. His heart was pounding as he reached for the lid with a shaky hand. He felt sure that this would be an appropriate moment for a jump scare. He steeled his nerves with the expectation that she would throw the lid open with a scream, lunging toward him in this darkened and dusty space, attempting to give him a heart attack. He licked his dry lips, leaning away from the chest as he reached to open it. He nearly felt disappointed when nothing happened. The lid opened on decaying leather straps, falling backwards with a bang. Inside was a dirty looking bag, riddled with moth holes. Could she be in there? It seemed unlikely, but he decided to take one step further and open the bag to look. The sight that greeted him filled him with nausea and a growing sense of horror. He stumbled backwards as if to put distance between himself and the contents of the bag. Inside, the off-white color of bone could be seen along with vintage clothing and a clump of mousy brown hair. How did she end up here? Who killed her? Why leave her in this place? One mystery has been solved, but new ones have blossomed in its place.


***Warning, people do die. *** We were told to stay calm. To ignore the waves as the beasts rose from the depths and pummelled into each other. As they hammered against the waters for days. Fluctuations of their fight caused the waves to upsurge and crush our homes. Finally, one fell, the blue waves embracing it and tugging it down further than we had ever gone, down from whence it came. We thought that was the end. We were told it was over. Told we could rebuild the houses battered by the waves and so we did. We tore down trees to fix walls and we cleaned the floors of seaweed. But then the beast rose once more. We watched from the beaches as it advanced to the island. We screamed as ripples from its movements became tsunamis that crashed down on the shores, ripping away rebuilt houses, and dragging them to the ocean. We sent our messenger ship to the mainland, who had sworn they would protect us. Who had taken over our government with the promise of safety. Who had made an oath. The beast descended onto the water washed sand of what used to be our beaches. It advanced inland, bringing devastation with every crashing step. It turned to us as we ran from it. Some of us found shelter and other found the claws of the beast. It took soul after soul, listened to scream after scream. A reply came from the mainland. A messenger boat came to us from our guardians across the sea. “A huge beast attacking your shore?” They called us liars trying to rob them of their resources. They said they would not fall victim to such nonsense. The beast killed more every day, finding our shelters, and destroying them, removing safe harbour after safe harbour from our reach. To take more lives into its bowels. Again, we called for aid from the ones we had trusted. We asked for boats, food, and water. Simple things that were easy to give. They scorned us again. They said they were too busy to amuse us. They said they had real problems to deal with. We read these words, huddled away from the sunlight. We read them scorning us, we read them pushing us to the side like lying children. We read them abandoning us. Yet we still held out, we sent for help as our land was invaded. The one messenger boat sped back and forth as we became more isolated from the world and from ourselves. We told them just to come and see. We told them we were not lying. We told them everything we knew, but we knew less and less as we lost connection to the other shelters. No one wanted to run between them anymore. They told us that we were going to steal their boat. They told us we were liars. They told us they knew all about the ‘trick’ we were playing. We sent a final plea. Certain we were the last shelter still standing on our lush island. We poured every heart we had left into one last letter. We spent weeks making it the best we could, weeks working to convince our ‘guardians’ our ‘protectors’ across the waves. But as the little boat left the shore, as the captain took the two passengers he could fit. The beast came. It saw movement, it scuttled across the water covered hills and plunged down at the boat. It took our message, our one safe line and our hopes. We ran. We ran as long as we could. It chased us. It chased us as long as we could run. We came to the water; we could not run anymore. It crested like a wave, ready to crash down on us. Some managed to swim away. The rest were taken into the beast. We watched our fellows end as we struggled to stay still and float in the turmoil of the waves. That is when we knew they were not coming. That is when we knew they lied. That is when we knew our allies across the sea were too far to care what happened to the island they swore to protect. But that is not where our story ends. We stayed still. A few of us were lost to the waves but we had no choice. When the beast left to search for more of us, we headed for land. Tired, we were forced to rest in the open. Fearing that the beast would remember us. In the morning we made our move. We built rafts out of fallen trees that floated in the water. We set out, far from the beast and into the waters it had risen from. We drifted as far as we dared. We found an island. Isolated but free from the destruction of the beast. We started again, this time without the mainland. Without our ‘guardians’. This time we flourished. This time we didn’t worry about the other people because they would never worry about us. That was our history. It was better than theirs. The beast moved forward, past the remains of our old home. It found the mainland and all the other lands. It did not care for the swords and the arrows thrown at it. It did not care for the shouting and the screaming. The people split into chaos once they knew their weapons could not save them, so maybe it was good that we didn't have any. They ran and fought each other rather than hiding like us. You might even call them brave, though we prefer the term stupid. The beast didn't care that they fought each other, it probably made it easier. We wonder if they ran to an island in the middle of nowhere like we did. Honestly it's unlikely such fools could survive. Though we don’t care that much... After all they didn’t care about us, we're happier like this anyway... free from their greed and their righteousness, maybe the beast was doing us a favour.