It was morning, and Jean, the receptionist for the law firm of O’Ryan and Greenblatt, unlocked the office door and then went to her computer. An hour or so later, a five-foot-tall woman about 70, who was carrying a shopping bag, entered the office. She spoke with a Yiddish accent.” “Hello. May I help you?” “Yes, dear, I’m Mrs. Liederkenstenflam.” “My name is Jean,” she said, went to Mrs. Liederkenstenflam, and led her to chairs. “Let’s sit down, Mrs. Liederkenstenflam.” “Thank you, dahling, I was tired. You’re such a nice girl. Here. She took a container, spoon, and napkin out of her shopping bag, opened it, and gave it to Jean. “Have some nice chign soup. It’s Jewish penicillin. It will fix all your problems,” she said and tried to feed her. Jean gently held her hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Liederkenstenflam, but I’m not hungry.” “Okay, dahling,” she said and put everything back in her bag. “Now, how can we help you?” “I need a lawyer, a good lawyer.” “You’ve come to the right place. The firm of O’Ryan and Greenblatt is one of the best law firms in the city.” “Okay. I’ll take Mr. Greenblatt.” “I’m sorry. Mr. Greenblatt isn’t taking any cases, but his daughter, Karen, is taking cases.” “Okay, I’ll take Karen, but before you call her, tell me how much I have to pay.” An office door opened, and a man came out. He went to the coffee pot and held it up. “It’s empty. Again, it’s empty,” he said, put his hand on his hip and stamped his foot. Jean and Mrs. Liederkenstenflam watched him. “Gosh darn. Darn. How is a great lawyer supposed to be great if there’s no coffee?” “So, make some coffee,” Jean said. “But that’s your job,” he whined. “I do lawyer things and you make coffee. That’s the way it’s supposed to be,” he complained, stamped his foot and wiggled to his office. '\`D' boichick, I think he needs some chign soup. Yeah?” “He needs something.” “Now, I was asking how much I have to pay.” “You don’t have to pay anything up front if the attorney decides to take your case. If the attorney loses, you don’t pay anything. If the attorney wins, you pay just one third.” “Oy, how terrible. How can you do such a thing? I think I need a doctor.” “What’s wrong, Mrs. Liederkenstenflam?” Jean asked anxiously. “Well, you see, my great aunt died, may her soul rest in peace, and she left me her little doggie in her will, but my sister took d’ little doggie, and I want Karen should make my sister give back d’ liddle doggie, but how could I give you one third of a little doggie? What would you do with just a part of a liddle doggie? How could d’ liddle doggie get along widout d’ part you took? D’ poor liddle doggie needs all his parts. After all,” she said sounding very anxious. “You don’t understand, Mrs. Liederkenstenflam. The cases we take involve financial settlement. Our fee would be in dollars. You need to take your case to a small claims court.” “In a small claims court, they won’t take a part of my liddle doggie?” “No, they won’t. The judge will listen to both sides and then decide who should get the dog, the whole dog.” “I’ll go to that court. What a relief. I wouldn’t want Pedro Garcia Juan Padilla De Santa Maria cut up into liddle pieces. Thank you, dahling. Say hello to Karen for me,” she said and left. Karen came out of her office as Mrs. Liederkenstenflam left. “Jean, did I hear that woman mention my name?” “Yes.” “Do I know her?” “No.” “Does she know me?” “No.” “Then how did my name get into the conversation?” Don Flynn came out of his office, went to Jean’s desk and listened. “She wanted a lawyer to get her doggie from her sister, and she thought you were going to cut a third of her doggie off and keep it for payment.” “Karen, how could you threaten a client?” Don said angrily. Why would you take a third of a dog? What a thought. That’s a leg and a...yuck. That’s disgusting.” Vera came out of her office, went to the group, and listened. “Karen, were you going to cut off a dog’s leg? How could you do that?” “I wasn’t going to cut off a dog’s leg. Jean, would you please explain.” “Okay,” she said, and told the story. “So she thought Karen was going to take a third of the dog for payment.” Frank came to the desk and listened to the story. “Karen, that’s despicable. Besides, what would the firm do with part of a dog? Yuck.” “Karen, you know there are laws protecting animals from abuse, don’t you?” Don said. “You could cut off a person’s leg and get away with it, but not a dog. A jury would hang you in a minute.” Harry came out of his office and listened. “My God, I never said I would cut off a dog’s leg. This is crazy,” she growled. “What’s crazy?” Harry asked. “Karen threatened to kill an old lady if she didn’t pay her bill,” Don said. “I didn’t threaten to kill anybody or anything. This conversation is crazy,” Karen yelled. “You’re all crazy,” she growled and hurried to her office. “Karen, don’t forget the staff meeting this afternoon with your father,” Jean called to Karen. “So, what’s this meeting about?” Don asked. “Money,” Vera said. We're sliding perilously close to red ink. Mr. Greenblatt has a plan to get us back to the black. I hope it's a good plan. Eating and paying rent have become a habit.” At the staff meeting, Mr. Greenblatt addressed his staff. “Folks, unfortunately, the firm is operating in the red. In order to get back on our feet, I’ve decided to use a talent agency. They will hire Rock Lockwood, the soap opera actor, to be our spokesperson. Irene Young from the agency and Lockwood will be here around 2:00. Karen, I’d like you to be my eyes and ears. Let’s hope this works. I’ll keep you all informed,” he said and all returned to their offices. On the way to her office, Karen stopped at Jean’s desk. “Jean, please call me when Lockwood arrives,” she said and left. An hour later, the office door opened and two people entered. One was Irene Young and the other was Rock Lockwood, a handsome soap opera actor about 30 years old. He wore his overcoat over his shoulders and a wide-brimmed hat tilted to one side, and a white scarf around his neck. They went to Jean’s desk. “May I help you?” “Yes. I'm Irene Young and this is Rock Lockwood. I'm from the King, Clayton, Bernstein, Baton, Mervin, Morgan, Fillmore, Furry talent agency. I have an appointment with Mr. Greenblatt.” “Would you repeat those names? King, Benson, Bitten, and something furry.” “Yes,” Irene said, speaking slowly, and Jean wrote. “I'm Irene Young from the King, Clayton, Bernstein, Baton, Mervin, Morgan, Fillmore, Furry talent agency. I have an appointment with Mr. Greenblatt.” “Fine. Just one moment. I’ll call him,” Jean said, picked up the phone, and pressed a button. “Mr. Greenblatt, Irene Young from the King, Clayton, Bernstein, Baton, Mervin, Morgan, Fillmore, Furry talent agency is here to see you. Okay, sir, I’ll tell her,” and hung up the phone. Ms. Young, he'll be right with you. Please sit down and make yourselves comfortable.” She returned to her computer. “Bobby came out of his office, went to the coffee pot, and held it up. Jean, the coffee pot is...” he said, saw Rock and walked like a zombie to him, pointing the coffee pot at Rock. “You’re Lock Rockwood, I mean Rock Lockwood. It’s really you. Oh, be still my heart. I’m your biggest fan,” he swooned and inched closer to Rock, who looked terrified. “I know everything about you. I know why you left Eloise at the altar. She was a tramp. And Shawna doesn’t deserve you, the tramp.” Rock hurried behind Irene as Bobby tried to get to him. Jean picked up the phone. “Mr. Greenblatt, come quick. Bobby is loose.” Mr. Greenblatt rushed out of his office and stepped between Bobby and Rock. “Bobby, go back to your office,” he ordered, and Bobby sulked away. “I’m terribly sorry, Ms. Young. I meant to give Bobby the day off, but I forgot.” “Bobby, bring the coffee pot back,” Jean yelled and, looking at Rock, he brought it back and went to his office. Rock looked stunned. “Who was that? I’ve never been married. And who are Eloise and Shawna?” “Rock. Think. You’re married on your soap opera, and the others are characters on your soap opera,” Irene said. “Oh, yeah,” Rock said, seeming confused. “Let’s go into the conference room. You’ll have plenty of room to work there. My daughter, Karen, will be right in. She’ll help you anyway she can. Make yourselves comfortable,” he said, left, and told Jean to tell Karen that Lockwood was in the conference room.” Jean phoned Karen, who hurried out of her office to the conference room. Lockwood stood. “Well, hello, there. I’m Rock Lockwood, the famous actor who is adored by millions. Would you like my autograph?” “Uh, yes, of course, I’d love to have your autograph, Mr. Rockwood.” “That’s Lockwood.” “Yes, of course.” Rock took out a gold-trimmed, leather-bound notebook from his pocket. “To?” “I think one will be enough.” “I mean to whom should I write my autograph?” “Uh, how about to me?” “I’ll need a name.” “You have a name already.” “I need your name if I’m going to write an autograph to you.” “Of course. My name is Karen.” He wrote and gave her the paper. She folded it and put it in her skirt pocket. “I’ll cherish this forever. Believe me. I’ll put it in a place in my office that’s made just for things like your autograph,” she said and went to Irene. “Ms. Young, I’m Karen Greenblatt. I’m happy to meet you,” she said and they shook hands. “My father told me to help you anyway I can.” “Okay. Suppose we run through each commercial and you tell me if it’s what you want. Rock, read the first commercial.” Rock held the script, slowly leaned forward and yelled. “If you have a legal...” Karen jumped back. “Rock, what are you doing? We want to bring people in, not scare them away,” Jean said admonishingly. “I was just projecting.” “Rock. You’re not doing Hamlet in front of a live audience. You’re doing a TV commercial. Now, try it again.” Rock slowly leaned forward so that he was a few inches from Karen, and growled. “Are you a victim? Are you letting the world step all over you? Are you...” Karen grimaced. Irene appeared to be in pain. “Rock. This is not revenge of the werewolf. You have to sound sympathetic, like you’re talking to an old friend.” “I see. Sympathetic. An old friend. I think I have it.” Rock leaned back in his chair, looked at Karen, smiled broadly, and grinned as he read. “Hi, there, this is your old, sympathetic friend...” “Cut, cut, cut. Rock. Why are you grinning? This is serious and when you are discussing a serious matter you don’t have a stupid grin on your face.” “Uh, if you’ll excuse me, there’s something I have to take care of,” Karen said, left and hurried to Mr. Greenblatt’s office. She stopped at Jean’s desk on the way. “How’s it going, Karen?” “This Rock Wormwood is an idiot. If he has a brain, then it’s as flat as a pancake because he’s sitting on it. If my father let’s this agency use this hack, then we’re doomed. I have to warn my father,” she said and hurried into his office. After a few minutes, he and Karen hurried to the conference room. “Karen, why don’t you show Mr. Lockwood around while I speak with Irene.” Karen’s first stop was Jean’s desk. “Mr. Lockwood, this is Jean, our gal Friday.” “You look familiar, Jean. Have we met before?” “Uh, no, we haven’t.” “Well, then, would you like my autograph?” “As a matter of fact, it is in my nature to avoid cluttering my life with unimportant, trivial affectations that do not serve to better the lot of mankind as a whole.” He stared blankly at Jean for a few moments. “Oh, yes, I can relate to that. A person should be able to practice his or her religion as she or he wishes. Absolutely. So, would you like my autograph?” “No.” “Mr. Lockwood, if you come with me I’ll show you around the office.” “As you can see, each attorney has his or her own office.” “I see. So, what kind of business do you run here?” “What kind of business do we run here?” she said smiling. “Yeah. Just curious.” “Rock. This is a law firm. We practice law. That’s why we have lawyers working here.” “Uh, huh. Lawyers work here.” “That’s right. I would say much of our business involves suits of one kind or another.” “Suits? I just bought two new suits. One is double-breasted. It makes me look muscular. Boy, if I had known you sell suits, well, next time.” “Mr. Lockwood, are you planning to come here to buy your suits?” Jean asked chuckling. “Yes.” “What size suit do you wear?” “I wear a 42 long. Do you carry that size?” “A 42 long law suit? That’s a popular size law suit size. I think we can work something out,” Karen said with a serious expression on her face. “That’d be great,” he said smiling. “Shall we continue?” “Sure.” “We also specialize in tax law.” “Oh, yeah, taxes. I don’t bother with taxes. I tell my friends that by not paying taxes you get to keep all your money, but they keep paying taxes. Do you pay taxes?” “Yes, I do.” “I have a feeling that taxes go to poor people. Personally, I don’t believe in being poor.” Mr. Greenblatt and Irene come out of the conference room. “Come on, Rock, “it’s time to go. Wait in the car,” she ordered and he left. Well, Mr. Greenblatt, I’m sorry we couldn’t help you,” she said, they shook hands, and she left. “Maybe a talent agency wasn’t such a good idea after all,” he said, and he and Karen went to their offices.


“No, I will become the leader of the world with or without you!” “Audrey, please!” “No! If you won’t help, then GO AWAY!” “Fine! Do whatever you want! Don’t come crying to me when you’re in a jail cell screaming for help!” The scene played in Audrey’s mind as she shaved the last hair down there. I don’t need her. I’m doing just fine by myself; the global economy is up. I passed many laws, helped to maintain peace across the globe, and banned the use of fossil fuels around the world. “Madam, you got a call on line two.” “Thank you.” She stood up as her assistant walked out. Audrey shuffled her naked body over to the phone and pressed two. “Hello?” “Hey, darling! How’s the leadership life treating you?” her mom asked. “It’s going great! I just signed a couple bills that expedite the development of solar roads and raise the minimum wage!” “Oh, that’s so great, honey! Your dad and I couldn’t be more proud of you!” “Has anyone whistled at you, yet?” “Dad!” “Oh, I’m just kidding!” “If anyone does, I’ll beat them up!” Audry said. “Atta girl!” he replied. Audry chuckled. “No, I wouldn’t. I’d just ignore them and walk on.” “Yeah, that’s probably the best thing to do. Your mom and I raised you right.” “Well, thank you.” “If you need anything at all, give us a call, OK?” Mrs. Turner said. “Alright, I will.” “Well, I have chicken pot pie to make and you probably have political stuff to do, so I’ll let you go, now,” Mrs. Turner said. “OK, I love you, Mom.” “I love you too! Bye, honey!” Audrey hung up. She looked out the window and smiled. Carrie slammed her locker and carried her U.S. history textbook down the hall. “Hey, Carrie,” a chubby boy said and her mind flashed back to the jerk who locked her out of her own house at the party. “Keep it together, Carrie.” She made it to the last room. She walked in and took her seat in the front row. The bell rang. “Hello everyone, I hope you’re doing well,” Ms. Huffington said in her slightly raspy voice. She brushed her long blonde hair back, walked to the board, picked up a blue marker, and wrote while she talked. “Your reading assignment for today is page one fifty-three to one sixty-three.” Carrie turned to chapter ten, section two: The Road to World War I, and began reading. She tried concentrating as the book talked about some dude named Franz Ferdinand, but her mind was somewhere else. She put her head down and started sobbing. “Carrie, you OK?” a black-haired girl asked. “Yeah. I’m fine.” She wiped her tears and looked at the page. Her eyes welled up and she sniffled. “Carrie? What’s wrong?” Irene asked, sitting behind her. Now, she has a heart? After she helped Audrey strip? “I... I... I gotta go. Excuse me.” Carrie got up and left. She rushed down the hall and then into the bathroom. She opened the first stall, walked in, laid her head against the wall, and cried. Oh, Audrey! How could you do this to me? I thought we were friends. She wept and remembered the good times they had together: swimming in her pool, shopping at the mall, giggling at cute boys while they were being stupid. How they went to movies, sharing large popcorn as they laughed, cried, or rolled their eyes. Doing homework while gossiping about who went out with the popular girl. Was that all a lie? She couldn’t believe Audrey would do something so crazy and turn on her. She thought she knew Audrey, but... “I guess not,” she said as tears fell on the floor. Audrey stared at a bust of Susan B. Anthony in her office. What would she think if she was alive today? Would she be happy that a young woman practically united the world? She remembered how Anthony helped create the International Counsel of Woman. Audrey, herself passed many laws, including the Equal Pay for Everyone Act and the Abortion Act. She already did a lot for the world. She smiled. I guess the world just needed a woman to run it. Realizing she had been stuck inside all morning, Audrey said, “I’m going for a walk, Zexado.” “OK, I’ll come along,” Zexadao said and followed her out. “This is the life, eh? Walking outside in the nude enjoying the warm sun...” “You said it!” “I just love this!” Audrey twirled around. “I’ve made a difference in the world and I’m only sixteen!” “Yeah.” “And it’s all thanks to you!” “You’re welcome, Audrey. It’s been a pleasure working for you.” A blue cloud appeared and evaporated. Then, a bird creature stood in front of them. ” Ah, Mokopai, how was Jamaica?” Zexado asked. “Awesome! I partied and ate Rice and Peas, Callaloo Coco Bread... and more delicious food!” “Good, good!” “Wait, you just took a vacation?” Audry asked. “Yeah,” Mokopai replied. “Seriously?” “Yeah, I brought back some ganja. Want some?” Audry felt weird. Why was this demon offering her drugs? ‘No, that wouldn’t be professional.” “OK, but if you change your mind, call me,” Mokopai said and pantomimed holding a phone up to his ear. “Uh, pretty sure I won’t.” “We’ll see...” “What?” “Nothing.” “OK, then, well, I’m gonna continue my walk now.” “Ooh, can I join?" “Suuuure?" “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I mean, yes, you can join me.” “Great!” Audry continued walking. “So, tell me about yourself,” Mokopai said. “Excuse me?” Audry stopped. “I wanna know about you. You’re the Leader of the World, you know? “Well, um... I was born in California. I have no siblings. My family moved here when I was seven because mom got a job as a nurse. Um... I love history! I was taking AP U.S history two before I became World Leader and had to quit regular school.” “Cool, cool. I had five siblings, but my momma sacrificed four to Erebos, Ruler of the Underworld.” “I’m sorry?” “It’s OK, I don’t really remember them. I was only one year old.” “Oh.” Mokopai checked his watch. “Shit! I’m late for something! See you later.” “OK... bye, I guess?” A blue cloud, appeared and sucked the bird creature up. Hmm, what’s he up to? Audry pondered. “...And, so we must continue moving forward as a planet. Thank you.” Claps dominated the conference room as Audrey smiled. The room emptied except for one. She came up as Audrey put her notes away. She took a deep breath when Audrey looked up. “Hi,” Carrie said. “Hi,” Audrey replied. “Can we talk?” “Go ahead.” She crossed her arms in front of her bare breasts. “This is weird. You became a nudist and the ruler of the world!” “Hey, I’m not a ruler!" “Whatever, my point is I’m worried about you.” “For your information, I’m doing great! I’ve never been happier in my life!” “That demon guy is planning something.” “Bullshit! It’s been six months, and he has helped me out so much. If he were to do something, he’d done it by now.” “What kind of logic is that? And, what about your parents? Are they happy with your decisions?” “Yes, they called just a short while ago and told me.” “Told you what?” “They were proud of me.” “Oh, so I am the only one who’s crazy?” “I suppose so.” “Do you know how much you’ve hurt me?” “Why can’t you be happy for me?” “Because this is INSANE!” Carrie yelled. “Oh, so I’m insane, now!” Audry shot back. “I didn’t say that!” “You said my choice is insane, so I must be insane.” “Audrey...” “I’m just some crazy naked bitch to you, now.” “Why are you doing this?” “I love being World Leader!” “Why did you choose to become a nudist?” “Why not? Zexado said I could do anything I want, so I choose to go nude.” “Is this some kind of weird revenge on those jerks at the party?” “Not anymore.” “What do you mean?” “I was going to have them stripped naked and burn all their clothes, but I realized it would look bad on my image.” “Your image?” “As World Leader.” “You care only about your image?” “No, I didn’t say that.” “But you did.” “No, I said it would look bad on my image.” “And that’s all you care about? Your image?” “I don’t need to justify anything to you.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I love my new life. I’m helping the world, and people like it. They love me, Carrie. Can’t you be happy for me?” “That’s it! I’m through with you! Live your damn wonderful life! Just remember you lost your best friend!” Carrie ran to the door. “Oh, yeah, well, fuck you!” Carrie stopped, ran up to her ex-friend, and punched her. Audry placed two fingers on her lip and looked. Blood was on her fingertips. “You... you hit me...” She stared at the girl she had known since kindergarten. “Zexado!” He materialized beside Audry. “Yes, madam?” “She punched me! Arrest her!


Sorry for cutting the last post short. I had someone come in that needs a special kind of attention. For starters, I don’t even know what they are. For the sake of easier typing, they will be referred to as Emmett. Mainly because the name Emmett just gives me weird kid vibes. Kind of like that one kid that sat in the back of your third grade class and always drank the glue and got yelled at for sneezing into books? Maybe? A little more about Emmett, I have no clue if they are a guy or a girl at this point. Emmett has always piqued my curiosity whenever they enter the library. They stand five-ish feet tall, always clad in all black, and wear an all white mask. The only reason I know that Emmett has an all white mask is because they ran head first into one of our doors when they first started coming to the library. I was just sitting at my desk drawing and I heard a dull thud. When I looked up, I first saw Emmett. By body language alone, I could tell that they were super confused as to what had hit them. It was more a feeling of sheer awe and wonder than anything else now that I think about it more. I found it quite cute, actually. The experience was like watching a monkey play with a smartphone for the first time. This kept happening over the course of a few weeks, but they learned that whatever it was that hit them each time was there to stay. I’m honestly surprised how long it took Emmett to figure out how to open a door. I wonder what their home life is like... Emmett comes in normally around 9:30 to 10 o’clock. To add to that, it's normally right on the dot for those two times. Pretty impressive if I do say so myself; But, I have never once seen Emmett leave the way they came in... Hell, I don’t even know what Emmett does here. Well, obviously they might read or check out a book, right? However, they have never once checked out a book. Yeah, I know that what some people do is they come to the library, find an interesting book, and read it in a lounge area. That has never really bothered me because I just chalk it up to me being deep into drawing or writing and I don’t notice when they leave. To me, Emmett seems harmless enough. Hell, I would take them over many other patrons of mine. At 10 o’clock, Emmett walked through the doors of the library. So far, pretty normal. I was getting deep into a text conversation I was having with a friend so when I saw some movement out of the corner of my eye, it kind of scared me, not gonna lie; but, since it was Emmett, I was fine. Just gave them a nod to acknowledge their presence and watched where they went. It doesn’t really bother me that they never acknowledge me back simply because I don’t even think Emmett can see me half the time. They always have a hood up, plus the mask I mentioned earlier so I wouldn’t put it past them if they just can’t see me. As I watched Emmett stroll past the desk, I peaked my head up a little more and saw that they went into the romance section. To each their own I guess. After a while of sitting and texting with periodically doodling to my heart's content, I decided to start my rounds. The way I like to do it is, I snake my way up and down the aisles. I continue this until the very end of the hall, then I walk right down the main aisle that separates the library into its two halves. The romance section was only 3 aisles in and on the right side. So I could very clearly see Emmett enter the aisle. I knew they were there; however, once I reached the aisle, it was completely vacant. Given I am still a somewhat logical person, even after working here for so long, I thought it was completely plausible they had just gotten a book and walked over to the lounge area. Upon reaching said lounge area, Emmett was nowhere to be seen. Now, I was absolutely perplexed. Kerfuffled even. Where in the hell could this person or thing or whatever they are go in such a short amount of time? I even double checked the section Emmett had gone into. Not a single thing was out of place, except for one book. Now I knew for absolute certain that Emmett was still around, but I had spent way too much time away from my desk. If I wanted to start keeping my pens, I absolutely had to keep an eye on them at all times. Pens aren’t that cheap you know, especially when you had to buy a new pack seemingly every week. As far as tonight goes, there hasn’t been too many things out of the ordinary. I have done my opening rounds, unlocked the doors, checked, and even double checked that our resident creepy *thing* was present for the night. Y’know I’ve started to just accept its presence here. Like... it doesn’t even do much aside from just sit there and stare into my soul and eat my thoughts and memories. It doesn’t even look like a person most times. I am genuinely starting to believe that it just doesn’t even exist and it's just a bunch of shadows. That is actually the perfect name for whatever the fuck I am currently staring at, Shadow. Edit: Okay, so a night that I thought would be boring turned out to be not so boring. I just had an incident in one of the sections of the library. Normally I deal with situations in the same vein as this...but this turned out to be a lot different than normal. I was sitting at my desk, drawing as usual. I wanted to be in a happy and peaceful mindset, so naturally, I was drawing a butterfly. As I was adding details to one of its wings, an absolute monstrosity of a scream came from the book section. Now, I’m no stranger to screams; especially when the library is in question. But this chilled me to the bone. It was as if the scream itself penetrated my ears and carved away at my mind. Kind of like when a cat yowls, I guess? I genuinely don’t know how to put it. I stood in the main aisle, waiting for it to happen again. That way I would know where exactly it came from and I could deal with it accordingly. After a few more moments, I heard it again. It came from the paranormal section. Now me being the only person in the library, meant I had to deal with anything and everything that came through that door...or from inside the library itself. The paranormal section was about six aisles down from the main entrance. I carefully inched my way down the main aisle. After a short while, I ended up right next to the aisle with the screaming. Hell, even the ghosts and demons that decorated the shelving unit looked terrified. I stared at one of the demons very closely. The engraving slowly moved one of its ghastly arms to point to the entrance of the section. Now you know some fucked up shit is going on when the decor is in distress. Right as I began to peak my head around the corner, I heard the scream again; however, this time it was from deeper within the library. And this time it wasn’t stopping. It started as a faint and dull cry which started to grow into a painful and jarring scream as if it were coming straight for me. With a quiet, “Oh shit” and a new wet and warm stream flowing freely down my leg; I dove into the section just as a glowing orb shot past me. This was a completely new thing. Wormholes? I can deal with those. Teleporting entities that love romance books? I got that covered. Randomly disappearing writing utensils? All good. But screaming ghost orbs? Hell no. The wails of the orb became quieter, and then grew increasingly louder once more. As this was happening, I tried scrambling to my feet so I could run to the other end of the aisle; but once as I managed to get into my sprinters position, I ended up slamming head first into something. Into someone.


Santiago, 14 February My dear Butterfly, We knew it was true love when that ladybug reached our holding hands the day we first met. It happened when the sun was shining in the highest of the sky. I had already studied for my Bar exam, so I was eager to enjoy the little spare time I could afford. You were finishing college too, do you remember? Who would predict that the end of our professional education would concur with our relationship bursting like the Big Bang? I remember those October evenings when eating our ice-creams ghosts in the plaza. Yet, we did not pay attention to the spiders and the spooky Halloween atmosphere. The spring of love bloomed through us. Hours passed by rapidly. We did not want to say goodbye and part to our separated homes. The summer of our love ended. Autumn and winter arrived with their problems: our first jobs, protocols to follow, and so on. They created all the arguments and difficulties we had to pass through. 'How can you date a guy like him?' My father would say. 'How can you date a girl like her?' Your mother would ask. 'I hope you never marry. It would be a disaster,' the aunties said. Our love was the rose, and their rejection of our relationship was the thorns we had to endure. They pinched us. We bled. I still cry sometimes when I see our scars and remember those moments. Those stupid comments ruined the most beautiful days of summer. The memory of that tiny ladybug playing in our hands and the joy we felt when looking into each other's eyes that very first day were the reasons why we were not giving up. But was it worth it? It was a question I did every day when fighting for our love. Regardless, on the darkest day of our winter during December, when we were shopping the Christmas presents, I knew that our love would blossom again with spring, stronger and more hopeful than ever. I just knew it. How did I know it? I knew it because a ladybug posed on my shoulder and made us stop arguing. 'Hey, look!' You said. You took it and played with it in your hands. That day, we discovered something marvelous: the little ladybug fought gravity! If you held it in your arm, it would walk to the sky, never to the ground. If you rolled your hand to have the little insect upside down with its face looking to the ground, in that vertical position, it would rotate with its legs until its face headed to the sky again. We did the experiment so many times that day. We were astonished! No matter what, the ladybug would insist on being optimistic and looking to the sky rather than being led to the ground until it reached the highest point of your hands and flew away. We looked at each other. That was our same attitude towards the obstacles of our happy ending. First, a ladybug gave us the drive to start our romance. Now, another ladybug was saving our relationship. Were they related? We laughed while making up a story of them being mother and daughter or maybe grandmother and granddaughter. Then we thought: What if they were males? Father and son? Grandfather and grandson? Anyway, those ladybugs were even better than Cupid because if the baby in diapers made people madly fall in love, ladybugs made us magically fall in love. Though our relationship had a freezing wind around it, the heat and the shining sun on the festive day were stronger than the cold. It was, by far, a Christmas miracle. That December was the turning point in our love story. It is a fortunate fact that roses can survive after removing their thorns. The day you picked up those scissors and pruned them away was so liberating. How beautiful was our love when cutting down all the negativity towards us! Shutting down all the toxic relatives was the miraculous remedy we necessitated. Who needs them when five guests are enough to celebrate our wedding, the most important day of our lives? The following year, it was the birth of our little baby boy, Juan de Dios, the Christmas miracle we needed to convert those foes into allies. Who can resist the laugh of our little one? And how happy we were the day a little ladybug landed on our baby’s nose! Then God blessed us with the birth of our twins, Clementina and María. How pretty daughters we had on New Year's Eve! We felt like fireworks were celebrating with us their arrival, not only the New Year but also the new lives that were beginning. These little blessings sometimes acted like little monsters. When Juan de Dios broke the twins' Barbies, I was near to having a mental breakdown. Disciplining Clementina and María was all a challenge. Ironically, when we were broke, they demanded more toys, clothes, and money for going out with friends than when we were rich. Yet, we forgot all those problems when we saw them acting in the school's theater plays. Also, Clementina's poems are priceless. Juan de Dios is a gifted doctor now. And María, wow, a badass leader. They grew strong and then flew away like birds must do. Why am I describing all these events of our lives in my Valentine's letter? Because I want you to remember that the outside atmosphere does not determine the weather of our love. Yes, we can have summer in Saint Valentine. Yes, we can enjoy the flowering of love even in September. No, being in our summer holidays does not guarantee that we will have warmth in our relationship. I write this to advise you to be hopeful when the cold arrives and be careful when the heat surrounds us. Every day, somehow, we must take care of our relationship and endure the different challenges life makes us face. That is, at least, the vow I take today and every day since our wedding. I love you with all of my heart. You are my support. I am yours. The one who says that love cannot win all the battles a partnership faces is the one who has never truly loved anybody in his entire life. I hope this letter is like a rainbow on our special day. With love, Your flower. P. S.: I forgot to tell you that Clementina asked me yesterday by phone why my favorite insect is the ladybug. I told her succinctly that a ladybug saved our relationship in the harshest moments. 'Really?' She asked. 'How?' I could not badmouth her great aunties nor her grandmother or grandfather. Why would I show her the thorns in the garden we had for so long taken care of? I only answered, 'Oh, if you knew. If you only knew.'


MY SQUIRREL IS FLYING “ You will see how many friendships you’ll make there in the city, of course even ( with) girls” His mother kept repeating him for days. “Oh, think, you will go to a very prestigious school ,the renowned international high school Albert Einstein “ “You will be able to play football on regular playground, oh, but even play ( take part in) a championship for bys of your age” His father said him. “ You can go to the pool, to the gym, you can do all the sports you want, when we will be there” Peter was fourteen years old and had always lived in the small mountain town , where his was born, when his parents had said him that they had decided to move to the provincial capital city, which was not even a big city, but, compared with his small town( village) , it even could seem like a metropolis. He, Peter, hadn’t taken his parents decision well. Ah, his parents had taken that important, crucial decision without thinking at all how he would have considered it. They hadn’t taken him into accout, yes, they had decided for him, and this embittered him. For some weeks now, every day, his parents did nothing but praise the wonders of the NEW LIFE that awaited him, there down, in the great city! Seeing him not at all happy, but rather sulky and almost sad, every day they went out to talk, to praise too, some new wonder of his new life there, in the city. He, Peter, was more and more sulk. It was evident that the idea of moving to the city did not thrill him at all. Then his mother had started asking him if he was sorry to have to leave his friends, perhaps his girl, if he had a girlfriend. Peter didn’t answer, he just shook his head , and went to lock himself in his room. “Do you mind maybe leaving the mountain? Do you regret not being able to take walks in the woods anymore? Look, as much as you like the mountain, life in the plain is more comfortable “ His father said him, looking at Peter with an ironic smile, which perhaps was indeed sly and mocking, as he meant : but you look at this poor fool , who does not understand the benefits of city life. No, Peter had neither a girlfriend , nor friends that he particularly regretted leaving. The girls, oh, he found them unbearable, so much gruff they were....They were also great gossipers and often laughed at him. They, the girl, were always ready to made fun of him. His friends considered Peter a bit dumb, a bit retarded yes, and this was since he had a mild and almost thoughtful temperament. He didn’t like to fight as they often did. He didn’t even like smoking cigarettes and joints too, as they did in secret. Peter didn’t even like the beer which they drank in abundance. The boys of his age, his friends, if he could call them that, considered him , as to say, a bit behind them and not in step with the times. They were crazy about video games which he, instead, hated. Peter preferred to read or to take a walk alone in the woods. And it was precisely in the woods that he had met Pippi. For sure no one could imagine that it was precisely that delightful, lovely , little four legged creature which he didn’t have the heart to leave. Oh, in the woods there was not difficult to be able to see squirrels. But Pippi, he wasn’t a squirrel like everyone else. Pippi was his squirrel. The first time the little animal had appeared to Peter, or he had noticed him ( it) , indeed what had leapt to his eye, framed together the pointed snout and the dark eye of the little animal, had been THE BIG WALNUT, which the squirrel held between his slender and short front legs, stretched out as if they were arms to embrace that walnut which seemed very big, too big for such a small animal. He, Pippi, leaning ( sitting) on his hind legs, stood , with his body erect ( upright) on the branch of a cedar, near the trunk of the tree. With his tail which looked like a soft mop to remove the dust, raised as a victorious banner. Just before looking up and finding the squirrel, but indeed the walnut at first, in front of him, Peter had hear a rustle, like of leaves, and also a sound, a kind of FRIN-FRIN , that had made him think of the sounds or noise he happened sometimes to hear, walking in the woods, without being able to realize who was making those sounds. He, Peter called them the voices of the wind. As a child his grandmother had told him that, oh, those sounds were instead ( indeed) the voices of the gnomes and the fairies who lived in the wood, but who were invisible to almost all human beings. “ Ah, I can’t see them, but do they, the gnomes and the fairies, see me?” Peter had asked. “ Of course, they see you and sometimes it can happen that these invisible creatures , seeing you, say some words too, some comments on you....oh, but you cannot understand what they are saying” His grandmother had nodded energetically when she answered him. She had added that sometimes these ( those) creatures of the woods, invisible to humans, they could take the appearance of an animal, like a owl, like a hare, like a squirrel.... Not that Peter still believed what his grandmother had told him when he was a small child. But it happened that sometimes, when he met Pippi, he remembered it. That small little animal was a very marvelous wonder. When Peter saw him, the squirrel was almost always in movement, often climbing up the trunks of trees with an ease that left astonished. For that squirrel, which was his squirrel, it seemed to be the same ( as) moving on a ground floor or climbing up a tree. Indeed when his squirrel Pippi climbed a tree, he went faster than when he moved on the ground. Not that Pippi, for his appearance (aspect) was different from the other squirrels which Peter happened to see, walking in the woods. He, Pippi, had, like these other squirrels, a reddish fur that, in winter become rather burnt brown. He had the same large , long, soft tail , a tail which even seemed disproportionate, too voluminous, too wide, too long as it was, compared to the smallness of the (his) body. Still, he had the same dark eyes of the other squirrels, which, although smaller, had the same cut of the fawns eyes, the same cut and, it seemed to Peter, the same look ( glance). Yes, that looking with one eye, as if in passing, and even in fear, which yet every time said you: “It’s you, you are there....I saw you” Even thought it had not been any characteristic ( peculiarity) of his aspect that had made Peter decide , soon after seeing him ( the squirrel) for the first time: here , this squirrel is my squirrel,nevertheless Pippi had just a detail which distinguished him from the squirrels of the same size and color. A LITTLE RED STAR stood out on Pippi white belly ( chest). Not that it was really a star, it was rather a little red stain ( patch) with the shape of an irregular quadrilateral, but for ( to) Peter it was a star. The name PIPPI had come spontaneously to him the second or third time he had seen the squirrel. “ PIPPI” seemed to fict perfectly with the small body and with the agile, very fast movements of the little animal, as with his protruding eyes, as with his very fast hopping and climbing. Peter couldn’t help but be stunned, enchanted ( entraptured), as well as delighted, by Pippi (looking at Pippi) holding a walnut on the palm of his forelegs which, with their long forefingers, looked like hands to Peter. The squirrel, holding the walnut on the palm of his “ hands”, made it roll and , at the same time, he put his snout close the walnut, which he tested with his teeth to find where he could open it more easily. As it was very enchanting to see the little animal which, after having stuck his snout into the bark of a tree, began chewing thickly, fast fast, with clenched jaws . It was a really sight to see Pippi scratching and digging , whith his long-fingered paws under the snow, or under a carpet of leaves, in search of food. Even if Peter had never been able to approach him, to touch him, he was sure not only to be recognized by Pippi, but also to be expected by him. If every time he came in the woods, he couldn’t wait to see his squirrel, Peter was sure that Pippi was waiting for him too. Sometimes he had happened to see his squirrel jump from a branch to branch of a tree, that seemed to fly. He had seen flying squirrels on television, which launced into flight with their body deployed. They looked a little like a parachute, a little like a boat, and the air around them trembled, as they broke away from a tree to launch themselves into the void. He, Peter knew that Pippi was not a flying squirrel , but he would have liked so much to see him fly, as the ones he had seen on tv. The day of the move to the city was approaching . Peter could not bear the thought he would leave his squirrel. The day before departure he went for a walk in the woods, anxious to meet, to see Pippi once again. He, walking, was agitated by whirling , disconnected thoughts. He would take Pippi with him, he couldn’t leave him, he couldn’t separate from him, he thought. Oh, but how would he do it? He wondered immediately after. But...where was Pippi? Was it possible that he didn’t show up that very day? Peter remained in the woods for a long time, hoping at every step to be able to see Pippi, but in vain. He called him, he even shouted his name : PIPPI! PIPPI! But Pippi did not appear. After hours in the woods, Peter saw...something, indeed someone flying up from a big oak, some distance away from him. But, of course, it was a flying squirrel, which was unfolding his body, just like a flying squirrel. Oh, but it couldn’t be Pippi......a moment, it perhaps was instead Pippi! Yes, Pippi, which had become a flying squirrel . Ah, but to be sure it was Pippi. he had to see the squirrel more closely. While the squirrel, which had taken flight, was moving away fast, a little prancing, Peter started running. He had to reach that flying squirrel. Who knows if Peter was able to catch up with that squirrel, and who knows if that squirrel was Pippi. Peter did not come home from his walk in the woods. It was as if he wanted to stay with Pippi forever.


“He’s using you.” “What do you care?” He gulped, slightly, if I hadn’t had known him so long I wouldn’t have had picked up on it, but it was a little thing. Like how his eyes were looking anywhere else in the room, but me. How his index finger was drumming against his side repeatedly. How his breath had shallowed. “I care. Of course, I care Hales.” It came out as a hiss. Four years. Four years and he hadn’t sent a care in my direction, four years since it happened. Four years since the day it all went to shit. Four years, Three months, Seven days. Since my life fell apart. Now it was my turn to gulp. “You’re just jealous.” I stood up and wiped my palms on my thighs, attempted to smoothen down my shirt. He scoffed. “Why would I be jealous?” He was standing, leant against the wall next to my bed. Calm. Calmer than he just was, a glitch in the matrix. His mask was back, and I was over it. So over it. I turned around, bit my lip when he couldn’t see. So many thoughts, contemplations, expectations, wonderings of what could’ve been. I breathed. One. Two. And turned around. He was in front of me. “Give me one reason Hails, one reason why I would be jealous.” I looked up at him, slightly. The lies slipped off my tongue. “Cos I’m finally happy.” I turned around, again. Desperate to rid any thought of him, any trace or particle that he was even entangled in my life, and I started to walk. One step, two. He pulled me back to him, my hand on his chest. “You don’t seem happy Hales.” I put my head on his heart, the thudding in my ears. His steady heart. “How would you know?” I whispered. “How would you know any of the shit that has happened or how I feel?” I pulled back. “How the fuck would you know Jer? How the fuck would you know what happiness feels like?” I stood there, panting. ” You weren’t here for any of it.” “I know you Hales-” “No.” I put my hand out, took a few steps back. As much distance as I could muster. “You don’t. Four years? Remember?” He frowned. One look. One look in his eyes and I was gone. His beautiful emerald eyes. Stop-no. Remember. “That’s what I thought. You don’t. You don’t care. You left and here I was to pick up the pieces. You don’t know shit Jeremy. You know why? Because you weren’t here. Now get out of my room, get out of my house, and get the fuck out of my life!” I was on the verge of breaking, if not already broken. The rage burning everything up and leaving me to bathe in the ashes. I hated him. I hated him so fucking much. He was it. Death in the form of beauty. A stone carved assassin. One who could ruin me, and I hated him for it. He took a step closer. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Another. I took a step back. The strides came closer, and I was backing away, clashed into the wooden door behind me. Frozen. Like ice. One wrong foot and I would be ruined. I reached for the handle, he put his arm on the door. Kept it closed. “Let me the fuck go, or I swear-” “I don’t care?” He said it like it was funny, but his face was dead. His lips pressed in a thin line. Not his eyes-no matter what I would not look into his eyes. “Don’t you dare fucking accuse me of not caring Hales. Four years. Four fucking years, three months, seven days, three bottles of vodka and rehab has not made me forget every inch of your body, every tear you shed, every smile you wore until I melted. I fucking melted okay?” My heart was in my throat, my brain foggy. “You destroyed me.” I barely caught the whisper. I looked up. I looked up. I fucking looked up. I didn’t believe it. His eyes, swimming in a pool of tears. Incomprehensible pain. He counted. He’d counted the days. The days we lost. “I’m not a naïve eighteen-year-old Jer, this has to stop.” It strained my voice to say. He leant into the crook between my head and my neck. One small, soft peck. Lips soft, planted on my collarbone. Like a breath of fresh air. He pulled back. “Do not ever think that I do not care for you. I want you; I need you to know.” He shook his head, tucked a strand of dark hair behind my ear. “Fuck it- I want you Hales. Only you. I’ll choose you. I’ll keep choosing you. Forever.” “Jer-” “Don’t.” He shook his head. “Don’t say it.” Say what? My mind had gone blank. I had waited eternity for him to say it, and he did. So many feelings, emotions, I just kept shaking my head. All I could think about was the fucking ring on my finger. A promise. A promise I’d made and needed to keep. An engagement to my future, a good future, an easy future... “Jer-” “Hales.” His voice cracked. A tear slipped out of his eye. I broke, the tears started pouring down my cheeks. One person, all of time and space and infinite possibilities, one destiny, one destination. He was mine. “Take it off.” I sobbed. “Take it the fuck off.” He looked at me, confused. I put my hand on his chest, so he could see it. His eyes widened. “Hales-” “Jer,” I wiped my eyes on the corner of my sleeve and stared at him. “Take it off. Please.” His hand brushed mine, ever so slowly inching the diamond ring off my left hand, his lips pursed. My heart pounding. This was it. This was it. This was it. It was at the edge of my finger, and he paused. “Are you sure?” “Jeremy, take the fucking ring off before I throw it at you.” He smiled, dropped the ring to the floor. “Hales.” “Jeremy.” I smiled. “Guess what?” “What?” His hand touched my cheek. I closed my eyes and smiled. It wasn't going to be easy, nothing worth having ever is... I looked at him. “I choose you too.”


I met Ben in the 3rd grade. His family had moved to town from out in the country. Their family farm had failed and now his Dad had taken a job doing waste management for the city. Ben and I had a slow start to our friendship. I had been at Alstonville Elementary since grade one and already had friends. Ben was the weird new country kid that everyone called “Hick” and no one wanted to be friends with. We met when our teacher Mr Granger made the class sit alphabetically by our last names. Ben Matthews and Tom McCormack, destined to meet. For the first few weeks of school we didn’t speak a word to each other. Matter of fact we wouldn't even look at each other. The silence broke at the end February. It was a Friday and I had slept in missing my bus to school. After a lecture about laziness, my mum begrudgingly drove me in. I got in to class as the bell was ringing and took my seat. Mr Granger starts the class by asking everyone to grab out their assignments. ASSIGNMENT!? WHAT ASSIGNMENT!? I had completely forgotten! We were meant to write up a two page story about our summer and it was due today! I was sweating bullets. Mr Granger started to go around the class. Starting at the front Mr Granger had each student explain their story as he collected their paper. The Bowman twins had both written stories about camping with their Uncle Tim. Jessica Clarke wrote about starting guitar lessons. One by one Mr Granger went through the class edging closer and closer to me and my shame. Lepowitz finished mumbling on explaining his story about horse riding as Mr Granger got to Ben Matthews. By this point my face was bright red and I was shaking in embarrassment. Then something amazing happened, a friendship was born. Ben Matthews, who up to now I had not said a single word to, told Mr Granger “Sir, Tom and I did our assignment together.” Mr Granger gave him a sideways glance. He asked Ben how we could have written about our 'individual' summers together. Ben didn’t miss a beat as he replied “Well our story is about a country kid moving to a big new town and not knowing anybody. At first the country kid struggles to fit in with the slick city kids. Until he meets a cool new friend in class who shows him around town. The two end up becoming best friends.” Mr Granger smiled at me as he took Ben’s paper. Hours later when the lunch bell rang I turned to Ben and I thanked him. I told him I owed him one and that he should come sit with me at lunch. By the end of the day, not only were Ben and I friends, but he also became quick pals with my other friends Keith and Jimmy. As the years passed the four of us grew close. We hung out with each other outside of school. We met each others parents. We avoided ever going to Keith’s house for dinner because his mum only ever made weird vegetarian food. One time we even stole a bunch of beers from Ben’s Dad and drank them down by the skate bowl. When High School came things started to change. First of all Keith’s parents sent him to a fancy private school on the other side of the city so we never got to see him. Then Jimmy started dating Jane. So he never had time to hang with us. For most of 8th grade it was the two of us hanging out between classes or at lunch. As we crossed into 9th grade I started to make some other friends. Kate my lab partner, Kyle and Paul from the school soccer team. Ben never seemed to have the knack for making friends. I started to spend more time with my new friends and less with Ben. Jimmy and I both still invited Ben to our parties. But he rarely showed up, always giving us some excuse about his parents not wanting to drive him. The 8th of June 2008, the middle of winter, my whole world changed. I knew something was wrong when my Mum and Dad woke me up together. I thought they might have found out about Paul and I smoking weed near the skate bowl. My mum had tears in her eyes and hugged me as I sat up. My Dad looked on worried and told me it would be ok. I asked them what was going on and my Dad broke the news to me. Three hours earlier Mr and Mrs Matthews woke to the sound of a gunshot down in their garage. Rushing down they found Ben slumped over in an old armchair. Mr Matthews shotgun lay near Ben’s feet. Ben was covered in a mess of blood. On the 8th of June 2008, Ben Matthews fired a shotgun into his chest and took his own life. The next week seemed to drift by in a dark haze. I cried a lot. My parents took me out of school and I had to see a therapist. At first I felt angry at Ben. I was furious with him. I couldn’t believe he would do this to his parents, to his sister, to his friends, to me. I was burning with rage the morning of his funeral. I was going to punch him in the face and scream at him for being so selfish. Throughout the ceremony I kept thinking over in my head “How dare he?! How dare he?” Ben’s sister bawled through the whole thing. His Dad kept it together well until giving Ben’s eulogy where he broke down. As the ceremony came to an end we were each invited to come to the casket and give Ben our last goodbyes. This was my moment, my moment to get Ben back for all the pain he had caused us. I approached the casket and saw Ben’s pale face frozen still. All the anger and rage in my heart disappeared. At the sight of Ben I was filled with a deep sadness and an intense love. Ben had been my friend. Ben was my friend. I broke down in tears, my legs gave out and I began falling to my knees when I was suddenly grabbed from behind. It was Ben’s Mum Lynnette. She was holding me. I turned and hugged her tighter than I had ever hugged anyone before. I cried into her shoulder as she held me. I sobbed deeply and all Lynnette did was hold me and whisper “Thank you Tom, Thank you.” Ben Matthews may have been a country Hick. He may have been a little weird. Ben might have struggled with making friends but Ben was my friend. He was my friend.


I stare at this picture constantly. Day after day. Night after night trying to remember who the girl in the picture is. I'm the girl in the blue dress or so I'm told. The girl in the red dress I don't recognize. I don't remember this picture at all. I don't remember taking this picture. Memories are a dime a dozen. One in a million. More precious than gold. Everyone in the world remembers who they are, their families and their friends. They remember their childhood. All those memories are right there in their heads. My memories come in flashes or none at all. I don't remember anything without help from two strangers. They call themselves my parents but I don't know who they are. I looked at countless of pictures of strangers and a lot of the pictures of me and this girl I don't remember. I don't even recognize myself. I don't even know how old I am or what year it is. I can't remember when my birthday is. My life is nonexistent. I fall asleep at night and dream of a past I don't remember. I wake-up the next morning and stare at the picture of two happy little girls. That's all I do. The whole day I stare at pictures. My head hurts every time I try to remember. Tears come down my face when I can't remember. Anna, that's what I'm called but I just don't know. I look at myself in the mirror and what do I see. A total stranger. A scar that goes down the side of my head. I ask Sara and Eddie, my parents about my scar. They tell me nothing. Why won't they tell me? I hear Sara crying at night and Eddie comforting her. I feel sorry for them because they lost a daughter. Late at night when Sara and Eddie are sleeping, I walk around the house trying to remember something anything about me or the girl in the red dress. I find more pictures of a younger version of me and the girl. I find it odd that there are no pictures of an older me. My late night walks around the house yield no results. I still can't remember. I walk back to my room or so I'm told, hop into bed and close my eyes. I'm dreaming again about two little girls sitting in a car smiling, laughing, singing, telling jokes then bang. I wake-up in a daze. My heart is racing. My head is hurting. The pain feels like a hammer banging on my head. The pain is too much, Tears are falling down my face. I can't control it. Everything around me is crashing down. The pain is insurmountable that I pass out. I wake-up the next morning with a dull throb. Oh My God! that was an intense dream. I dreamed of two little girls. One of the girls is me. I remember from the picture. The other girl is still a mystery. I've been stuck in this strange home for a long time. Sara and Eddie won't let me go outside. I don't know why. But I can't continue to be locked up and be expected to remember. The world is passing me by. I need to remember. I need to remember who I am and the girl in the picture. I can't remember if I'm stuck in this house. I take a shower and get dress. I put my hoodie on so I can hide my scar. I quietly open the bed room door and quietly walk down the stairs. I hear Sara and Eddie talking in the living room. Now is my chance. I open the door and walk out into the beautiful sunny day. My first taste of sunshine in a long time. I take a deep breath in and a long breath out. It feels good. Maybe being out in the world will help me remember. I begin walking looking at all the homes and people hoping something or someone will trigger my memory. The homes are beautiful but my mind is coming up blank. I stop at the corner unsure of where to go. I look back and forth. Where do I go? I close my eyes and turn to the left. I begin to walk. Why does this route seem familiar? I think a memory is coming back to me. I feel like I walked this route before. I stop at the light and cross the street. I'm coming up to a building. LakeSide School. I stop and stare at the building. I've been here before. That was a long time ago. I find a bench and sit down. The doors to the school are opening. I see the kids running out to play. I close my eyes. I see me and the girl I don't remember playing in that very same playground. I remember being at the playground as a little girl. I remember playing at the playground with the girl I don't remember. I remember nothing else. I smile at the kids. So innocent and carefree. I wish I was like them. I wish I didn't have an empty space in my head. I walk away from the school. I go back the way I came. I follow signs leading to town. This seems familiar. I can't place my finger on it. I look at all the stores but one store in particular catches my eye. LakeSide Ice cream shop. I've been here before. I stare at the store. Little bits of my memory are coming back. Me and the girl I don't remember sitting in the ice cream shop eating Ince cream. I'm eating chocolate chip and the girl eating strawberry. We are sitting in a corner booth. That's where we always sit. I can't believe I remember that. I continue walking taking everything in, looking at all the faces trying to see if I remember anyone. I do not. I only seem to remember places and not people. Places are easy to remember. People are not. I pass the town limit and come across a memorial. I stare at the memorial. There are candles, teddy bears and cards. Some are old and some are new. I bend down, pick up a teddy bear, then I pick up one of the cards. The card reads "We love you Ashford twins. We are thinking of you always. Get better soon." Ashford twins? I grab a picture that was placed on the pole. It's of two little girls. One of them is me. I'm a twin. I never put two and two together. "It's horrible what happened here." I turn to the women standing next to me. "What happened here?" I ask. "Seven years ago, a horrible accident occurred on this very spot involving a family of four. The Ashford family. Eddie, Sara and their twin daughters Anna and Bella." "A drunk driver violently hit their car. Both girls were ejected from the car. Anna and Bella were severely injured, severe head trauma. The girls were in a coma for seven years. Anna woke-up last year. Bella is still in a coma. Sadly Anna doesn't remember her life or anyone around her." I watch as the lady leaves flowers at the memorial then she leaves. I sit down, close my eyes. I see myself and the girl, Bella sitting in the car and then a loud bang. That's the last thing I remember. I'm a twin. Bella the girl I've been staring at is my twin. I cry for Bella, for me, for everything I lost. The tears continue to flow down my face until the sun goes down. One day I will remember. I take out the picture of me and Bella. One day I will remember you.


The bodies looked as they always did, and it had been many years since the sight of one frightened me. The Korean War had many horrors, and corpses. The shipwreck lay before me not even a mile from the coast. One of its crew stared at me from a portside window, his eyes dull, skin bloated and white, suspended in the water within the cabin for days. I made my way to the small fishing boat, my weighted feet moved sluggishly along the sea floor. The boat had struck some rocks during a recent storm. While some of the passengers escaped, others had been taken by the sea. I was sent down to assess the damage so retrieval could begin. The world was different down here, the rocky bottom with its swaying seaweed turning into a hazy distortion of shapes after maybe thirty feet in front of me. All I could hear was the tin noise of air bubbles escaping my helmet as fresh oxygen was pumped in from the boat above. My sense of touch went no further than the suit which protected me. The world outside was slow, and silent. I placed my hand against the hull, running my hand along the ruined wood exterior. The boat had been dragged by the current over some rocks. The damage was jagged, the innards of the boat had spilled out of the wound and were gently moving with the current along the sea floor. Peering inside the hole I cast my light and saw books and paper floating in the water, canned goods lay on the floor alongside an overturned pantry shelf. Particles danced in the cone of light as I scanned the room. There he was. In the corner. The other crewmate. He was turned away from me, suspended between the floor and ceiling. Small fish had already begun to claim him. I cut through the darkness inside with my light one more time and told the surface where to find the bodies. There would be no open casket funerals for these men. I glanced back behind me and saw the void. The world over my shoulder simply faded into a blue nothing. I was finished and signaled the boat to prepare to bring me up. Turning back to the wreck I saw that directly above me a cluster of flora danced in front of the beams of light from the sun above. Strange, local plant life shouldn’t have started to overtake the boat so soon. I looked closer at the swaying silhouette. Wait. It wasn’t plant life. It was hair. A startled gasp escaped my throat as I raised my lantern and saw a new body peering down at me. It was a woman, and only her hands and face were visible over the side. The corpse was positioned in a pose of almost macabre curiosity, peeking down at me from the deck. None of the survivors had mentioned a woman on board. But why would they? They were all married men, if it got out that they had a woman on board it wouldn’t take much imagination to predict what would happen to them once they returned to shore. I made a note of it; but couldn’t take my eyes off the motionless face staring down at me. I took one step backward, then another. Two more steps. The brass helmet hissed as air was pumped into it. I pulled myself away from its gaze and faced the void. So many bodies, so much violence has been committed in front of me. It had been many years since I felt shock at the sight of death. What an odd way to die. Even in death she kept her grip on the railing. It wasn’t the strangest way I had seen death take shape, but it was certainly up there with the most memorable. Still... I turned back toward the ship, and my feet planted themselves to the sea floor. The woman was no longer gripping the rail. She was standing. The murky waters had started to take away the details of the ship, but the silhouette was still visible. Her hair flowed and moved with a life of its own, and her slim figure and dancing dress held a strange beauty. We both stood still in a silent eternity. I tried to move towards my extraction point but was beholden to the sight in front of me. A sense of tension had seized my joints. The surface was asking what was wrong. No words would come. With a sense of grace she stepped onto the railing, and then over. The motion broke her spell, and a sound of panic filled my helmet. I turned toward the void once more and pushed forward as quickly as the sea would let me. I told them to prepare for my extraction, and the panic in my voice was evident. They asked what was wrong, but I had no words to give them. This was impossible. Corpses never MOVE. My feet moved as though the sea itself was against me, the point directly beneath the boat seemed so far away. My mind raced with ideas of what lay behind me. Of the woman touching down on the sea floor and racing towards the brown-suited man with his strange breathing apparatus. I could die down here, in this alien environment. I reached the extraction point. “Bring me up!” They started to pull up the tether and hose, but there was so much slack to go through first. The urge to turn around pushed its way into my mind. My breathing was quick, adrenaline coursing through my body. This was impossible. The ship was a murky shape in the ocean fog, and at the edge of it, coming into clear view, was the woman. She walked across the sea floor as slow as I had been, but with no struggle. This was her world, and I was a visitor in it. She reached out with both hands as if to welcome me to it, and a smile spread across her face. My adrenaline turned to fear. Heart pounding, mind killing fear. A scream escaped my lips. I was going to die down here. My atmospheric suit would be my coffin. Death approached me with open arms. Twenty feet. Fifteen. I had escaped death and seen its face for so many years and it had finally come to take me. My cries of terror echoed inside the brass helmet, tears spilled down my face. Her face was thin and grey, one eye a piercing blue. The other eye was a hollow, dark socket. She was on me, I could almost feel her fingertips touching the suit. The slack had become taut and I began to rise toward the ship. The smiling face of death fell away as I started my ascent. Within moments something touched my boot, a pressure clamped down on it. A hand. With a primal wailing I struggled and shook my leg, a tension growing between the harness and the woman as they fought to see who would claim me. Blind, unadulterated fear escaped my lips in shrieks that tore at my throat. I was caught between life on the surface and death on the ocean floor. I cried as I fought to escape her grip, when it suddenly vanished. The boat pulled me free of her grip, and I ascended towards the light of the surface, cries of terror still filling the suit. They unscrewed me from the suit in a hysterical fit, and I was deemed unfit for duty. I quit soon after and found a job on the mainland. So many decades have passed since that moment. I never found a rational explanation for what I saw. Wars would come and go. Worldly terrors filled the headlines and nightly news, but none of it frightened me. I realize now that the greatest fears are those we cannot find answers to. There are worse horrors than those that man can make. On some nights I’d find myself dreaming of the ocean floor. That beautiful, awful face gazing at me with arms outstretched. I never went in the water again.  Hey there, reader. If you made it this far I hope you enjoyed the story. This tale was performed on the No Sleep Podcast over a year ago, and while I was thrilled to hear the story be told in all the production values that that podcast brings to their stories, I felt that it also had a place in print. So I've decided to start putting my stories up online for you to enjoy, and I hope that you do enjoy them. Till next time.


Josephine was preparing sandwiches for Rich and Lily. Although well into their twenties, Josephine still doted on her kids as if they were still in gradeschool. “I’m making sandwiches- do you want one?” asked Josephine as she darted from cabinet to cabinet in the kitchen. Although nothing was urgent, her actions carried a hummingbird’s sharpness as she stabbed at drawer handles with lighting fast, almost panicked movements. Rich was immersed in his phone, furiously typing a message... then tapping the *backspace* key as fast as he could. The rhythmic tapping of *backspace* was distinct from other typing; when hitting it, there was no variation in the tone of his thumb striking the screen. Oddly, he seemed to type faster when his thumbs traveled the full keyboard than when he hit the same key over and over again. Maybe it was the variety of sound that made it feel faster and fuller and more rewarding. “I need to leave soon”, he said. Lily threw a scornful glance at Rich. He always did this. Home from university for just two days and already sitting at the kitchen table as if he owned the place. Their mother did so much for him- how dare he just sit there without helping. “Of course, mom” said Lily. “Cut mine diagonally.” Josephine pulled the peanut butter from one cabinet, a can of tuna from another, and the can opener from the second drawer down. She scolded herself for her mistake, quickly putting the can of tuna back in the cabinet before anyone noticed. She arranged the other two items next to the cutting board. “Rich, your father needs your help over the next few weeks. I don’t think you said you have anywhere to be, so it’ll be nice if you can help him”. She pulled a slice of bread from the bag: moldy. She threw it away and grabbed the next piece: worse. She threw that piece away, too. She grabbed the next few slices and put them in the toaster without looking. “Jesus Christ, Richard” thought Lily, fuming at her brother’s condescending attitude. Here we was, being asked to help- and outright refusing- while she herself was never entrusted with that kind of burden. “Can you get the strawberry jam from the pantry for me?” her mother asked, to which Lily responded by glaring at Rich with renewed hatred. “You people are unbelievable” she seethed. Lily went to the fridge for some orange juice. Something smelled wrong. It was a little like burning but with a sweeter aroma. She poured a glass, replaced the carton, and sat at the table with Rich. He continued to recompose that text message- from the sound of it, about 60 characters long- before deleting it with another 60 muffled taps of *backspace*. He began writing it again. The cat waltzed into the kitchen, soon snapping dry food between its teeth. “Oh- there’s no more water in the cat’s bowl” remarked Josephine as she spread jam on the toasted bread, repeatedly moving the can opener to make space for bread, jars, plates, and knives. Lily clapped back “you always blame these things on me and I’m sick of it.” Josephine put the sandwiches on the table. Lily said “I told you I wasn’t hungry” though it was difficult to hear as her mouth tore a corner off the sandwich. God, how she loathed Rich and his preferential treatment. “It’s just so nice to have my babies back together” cooed Josephine as she loaded the dishwasher, making sure to give the can opener an extra rinse before putting it in.


When the world ended, nobody was surprised. It was as ordinary a day as I’ve ever seen- partly cloudy, mild, light breeze. But sometime late in the morning a dawning realization spread like a flash through all of humanity. We understood as a species that we were living in a computer simulation. Our bodies, our homes, our cities- just bits on some cosmic hard drive. Illusions. And that’s how the world ended. No cataclysm. No pestilence. No fire from Heaven. Just a little bit of knowledge. At first, we just stood around sorting through the new knowledge trying to find some meaning. And then as we wrapped our minds around the whole of the matter- that’s when people started to die. It happened without any warning and without any spectacle. The first one I saw, he was walking along the sidewalk toward me and he just dropped right onto his face. But this didn’t surprise anyone either. We could all see the "door", if you'd like to call it that. And it wasn’t just any door. It is The Door and we _knew_ there was something behind it. Something incredible, amazing. So, when our minds woke up, it was as if we were sitting in some little room, watching a little monitor, wrapped up in what’s happening on the screen and then we snap to. There’s the stuff on the monitor, which feels fake and small now, and there’s The Door. So, when a person gets a choice like that, well, they can just leave; no need to make a mess, just go. Within a week all those who were going to leave had left, which was nearly everyone. But, there were a few who stayed, including myself. It was weird and awkward at first, staying behind. All those dead bodies. They were everywhere, and they would be in inconvenient places, like places I'd want to go. All these other people thinking of the same meaningful place to be, they get there and when they couldn't find the old magic anymore, they'd drop out *right there*. Piles of bodies at all the cathedrals, scenic outlooks, and restaurants. After a few days it didn't matter much anyway because the infrastructure started failing, and without fire departments the cities started to burn. The few of us who stayed behind, we got together. It wasn’t as hard to arrange as you might think because we had acquired some interesting abilities. I didn’t notice the first one right away because there were too many people; too much noise. But after the noise I could not only sense where the others were, but I could talk to them with my mind- like Facebook, but a million times more personal than you could imagine. The other thing we discovered was that we had some power over the simulation. Nothing fancy, mind you, but enough that nobody died or got sick, so we could go wherever we wanted to. Once we knew the situation, we decided on a few really great places to hang out. We found some obscure beaches and mountains with amazing views, but also deep caves and even spots under the sea, because, why not? We would fill our days mostly with talking and eating. It was great. One of our favorite things to talk about was whether we were in Heaven or in Hell. We sensed the greatness of what must certainly lie beyond The Door and that made us think that maybe we were in Hell. Perhaps, we mused, Hell is just deciding to stay in a place and not move on. But then we compared what we had to how it was Before, and honestly, it felt like Heaven. So we’d laugh because even if we were in Hell, it's not so bad that we’d want to leave. We thought, “We’ll get to The Door eventually, maybe, but what’s the hurry?” One day, a few of us went on a long walk outside of the community. We weren't far from New York City, so we decided to go see it, but when we got there, we couldn't find it. We thought maybe it was erased somehow, but we inspected more closely and discovered old streets and the foundations of buildings. The whole place had become a great forest and here and there were the rotting logs of huge trees long ago toppled over. We figured the forest must have been thousands of years old. Somehow we hadn’t notice all that time pass. We told the others about it and that put everyone in a somber mood. That was when people started leaving again. At first, one here, two there, then everyone. Everyone but me, that is. I remember the moment the last person left. I felt her thoughts fade as she passed through the door. I waited for the starkness of my situation to settle in, waited for my thoughts to collapse in loneliness. But instead, I built a house. It’s a modest two-story with a big porch in front. I think next I’ll clear out a big lawn and have a nice fence to keep the rabbits out of my garden. I don’t know who is running the simulation and I can only guess why they haven’t turned it off. Maybe they are waiting for me. Maybe it doesn’t even turn off. Who knows? All I know is that I intend to stay and be in it until I can’t. Those of us who stayed behind before, we got lazy. We could have done more, but we just wanted to hang out, and to distract ourselves from The Door. Well, I don’t care about that any more. I care about my house, and I care about my place, and I care about this world, because for now it’s my place.


's prompt: You and your team of scientists have created a gateway that transport you to anywhere in the world. But once you decide to step through it, you being to realize that you've stepped into an alternate universe. Gary went downstairs and saw his wife, Sam, making breakfast. She smiled at him, prompting Gary to kiss her on the cheek. “Hi, dear,” Gary said, “that smells heavenly.” “Thanks. So, today’s the special day, huh? Teleportation technology, right?” Gary nodded. “Yeah, but I doubt today’s going to be any different. We tried it before, and still no luck.” “Well, I’m sure you and your team will figure out something,” Sam said comfortingly. “Let’s hope.” Gary walked over to an elderly woman sitting at the dining table. He kissed her on the cheek as well. “Hey, Mom, how are you doing today?” he asked. “Where’s your father?” she said, looking a bit worried. “He should be here by now.” Gary grimaced. His father had been dead for years now. If his mother got any worse, he would have to seriously think about putting her in a home. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon enough,” he said, trying to sound convincing. His mother nodded, seeming to already forget what the conversation had been about. Moments later, Gary’s twin daughters, Jill and Eve, came downstairs to eat breakfast. Jill asked, “Hey, Dad, are you free on Saturday?” “I think so,” Gary said. “Why, you want to do something then?” “How about we watch a movie?” Eve suggested. “There’s this new movie coming out called *Captain Patriot: Great Rebellion*.” “*Captain Patriot*?” he said. “There making another one?” “Yeah, this one is where Captain Patriot’s team fights Titanium Woman’s team,” Jill said. “I thought Titanium Woman was a superhero too?” “She is. It makes sense if you saw the last one.” “I just hope Captain Patriot wins, he’s so hot,” Eve said with a dreamy look in her eyes. Gary knew his daughters were growing, but a little part of him still died when he overheard them say things like “hot” to describe anyone. Gary finished breakfast, wished his daughters a good day at school, and drove to work. While he drove, he heard a news story on the radio. Another scandal with President Robert Smith. Gary shook his head in disapproval. Once he drove up to his workplace, he went in and got everyone together to give his speech. “Today is our last chance to test this out,” Gary said to the room of scientists. “We’re going to be very busy and we’ll probably have to miss lunch. Just know that even if this doesn’t work, I’m still proud of the effort we put into this project. Now, let’s get started.” Gary and the other scientists spent hours putting the last finishing touches to their teleportation machine. They fixed certain issues, reworked some of their ideas, and prayed that all of this would be enough to get it working. Eventually, they were ready to test their machine on a quarter. The moment of truth had arrived. The coin was lying heads up on a large platform in the center of the room. The scientists pressed different buttons, pulled switches, and coordinated with another team on the other side of the country, where the coin would hopefully be transported to. Everyone gave a thumbs up, and Gary pulled the final lever. There was a flash of light in the room, and everyone held their breaths. When the light disappeared, everyone stared at the platform. To their disappointment, there was no coin. They got a call from the scientists on the other side of the country, and they confirmed that the coin was still lying tails up on their platform. Gary gathered up the scientists again. “I still stand by what I said earlier,” he said. “I’m proud of what we did. It’s better to be ambitious than not try at all. I’ll see you all next week.” He said his farewells to his coworkers, packed his stuff, and drove home. While he drove, he heard a news story on the radio. Another scandal with President Elizabeth Taylor. Gary shook his head in disapproval. Once he drove up to his house, he went in and joined his family for dinner. While Gary ate, he overheard his twin sons, Jack and Adam, talking about a movie. “I just hope Radiance wins, he’s so hot,” Adam said with a dreamy look in his eyes. “The last one was pretty good, I just hope this one is too,” Jack said. “You two talking about a superhero movie?” Gary asked. “Yeah, this one is about Radiance fighting the Warden.” “Can’t believe they're making another Radiance movie,” Gary said in disbelief. “You know, they made one when I was around your age too.” “You should watch it with us, Dad,” Jack suggested. “We were planning to watch *Warden v. Radiance* anyway.” “Why not? Are you two free tomorrow?” “Saturday? Yeah, we’re free.” When dinner ended, the twins went upstairs. Gary noticed his father nodding off. He went over to him. “Dad, you look like you’re about to fall asleep soon. Let’s get you to bed.” As Gary helped his father to his room, he couldn’t help thinking about his mother, who had been dead for years now. His mother had similar symptoms his dad was having now, and if he got any worse, Gary would have to seriously think about putting him in a home. As if he could read his mind, Gary’s father asked, “Where’s your mother? She should be here by now.” “She’ll be back today, Dad, don’t worry.” Gary replied. Gary helped his elderly father into bed and kissed him on the cheek. Gary headed upstairs and found Sam in bed, reading. “I hope there’s more room in there,” Gary said, “because I’m exhausted.” “I’m guessing you and your team didn’t figure something out,” Sam said while putting down the book. Gary shook his head. “No, unfortunately today was no different. It was the same as before, no luck.” “I’m sorry today wasn’t your special day. Teleportation technology sounded like it would’ve been wonderful.” As Gary climbed into bed and got close to Sam, he said, “Dear, you smell heavenly.” Sam smiled, prompting Gary to kiss his husband on the cheek.


In 1998, my rap CDs started to go missing. Here's why.... My step dad was a rapper. He was a 55 year old white Italian cop at the time and I'm not sure where he went wrong or if he acquired brain damage I wasn't aware of. In 1998 he assumed the rap name of ‘Merk’ and got golden grills with pink diamonds in his mouth. He used to liberally call me the n - word around the house, for things like me not picking a pen up off of the floor or uneven grass cutting. At first he used the racial 'er' ending but quickly replaced it with n***a. Other nouns he preferred (forced) me to address him as were “sir”, “sire”, and “lord". He took his pension from the PD and launched his rap career (which wasn't much of a career at first but a reason to blast Jay Z in his car and slow down around 16 year old girls I went to school with). In 1998 he dropped his first EP 'Disco', followed by his second EP 'Disco 2', both with only 4 tracks each. They were fucking horrible. I think the titles to the albums either referred to him being a disco dancer in the 70s or often telling me to “discoagulate” (not a real word) Dawn dish soap nozzles (picking out the hardened soap). Prior to his retirement from the force, Merk borrowed a hearse from a friend. He hired a marching band from a neighboring high school (actually, more like bribed by paying around 20 of them $200 each) to march in front of the vehicle playing the theme to 'The Godfather’ through my neighborhood with fat black strippers twerking on the roof while driving in his rapper getup, displaying a wreathed portrait of himself as a young police officer on the back windshield, emblematic of the demise of his former self, with “RIP” spray painted across both sides of the vehicle in pink. Not having established himself in the slightest, and with only mild interest from an amateur record producer from the Munhall, PA projects (a skinny half and half guy who called himself 'Step stone'), he up and disappeared. What catapulted him to his 15 minutes of fame was when he absconded with my car (a 1995 Ford Escort GT, despite owning his own Cadillac) and snuck into the 2000 Grammys behind DMX, Drag - On, and some Ruff Ryders groupies and while getting ejected from the event by the authorities, he began screaming “GLASS HOUSE, N ***A! GLASS HOUSE!” while throwing his 'Disco 2' mixtapes into the crowd. Consequently actress Regina King passed it on to an executive at Warner Bros who sought to capitalize on the incident, allowing for $150,000 to record and release an 8 track long LP for my step dad which came out in 2002 titled 'The Derelict'. People initially thought the title was Merk referring to hinself, but I know that in reality it was a word he often called our neighbor Gene along with “neanderthal” because his bushes on the property line extended about 2 inches onto our side. In 2005, after low -end moderate record sales (he earned enough to build wooden stairs from our deck to the yard), he moved back from LA to rip on and continue to berate and oppress me (still calling me n***a and making me do useless and arduous tasks like cutting our entire front and back lawn with scissors). At the same time he changed his persona to an over sexualized character named 'Jason Stetson’ where he released album 2 titled “Appullella Cowboy” (a reference to what I found out was a non - existent street block named Appullella Square in Jersey City, NJ, contrary to his claims that this is where he grew up and gained “street credit”.... Liar). Step dad began wearing a cowboy hat and started singing in a low baritone Barry White sounding singing voice, heavily emulating Everlast. He recorded the eponymous title track to the album with Step stone and a local prostitute with a mildly good voice named Lady Lux. He was briefly signed to Interscope through one of his LA connections who found it tasteful and a “nice change up” from his pompous rap persona. His tour was cancelled when, in his first show, without permission from his agency, he sodomized a prostitute at a cerebral palsey charity concert (unfortunately). He came home in 2006 and went on a hiatus. In this time, while shooting me with a taser he had from his police days and in the other hand spraying me down with a hose while I was planting tomatoes for him that spring, he electrocuted himself when his 14 gold chains were caught in the crossfire of both at the same time. The year 2008 would be his swansong with his self - released finale 'Theft Equity'. One particular track that received praise was titled 'Summiz', where he interwove a story about young and old love, and spraying girls with a fire hydrant and the pain of loss in his youth back in Jersey. This never happened. In reality he grew up in Homestead, PA when he was a kid, where his devout Catholic mother forced him to kneel on corn kernels for saying “oh jeez". Despite some in the music community who were secret fans and were able to obtain copies of the mixtape, it made no money, and my mom and him finally divorced. He took the house and at the same time won $500,000 in the lottery, but blew it on coke, gambling, and lawnmowers. Last I knew he was having sex with a 101 year old lady from down the street. There were rumors that he'd been sleeping with Lady Lux (he came home with herpes and the crabs from time to time) and some other prostitute. In 2018 he dropped some garbage, cheap -- sounding mixtape called 'Faif' (as in 'Faith’), but I've never seen or heard it.


You're at a bar waiting for your head of security Sam and his newly recruited replacement Andy. It's been a crazy week so you prefer this "meet and greet" on the casual side. Checking your watch you notice that he's 10 minutes behind so you decide to give him a call. On the second ring you hear his weather worn voice on the other end and without missing a beat he immediately berates you for your choice of meeting place because of the traffic in the area. You laugh it off and tell him to relax, promising him drinks on his arrival to celebrate his retirement. You hear a cackle of his laughter on the line "now there's something to look forward to" he says "remember, I only drink bourbon.The expensive kind. Preferably with an attractive woman on my lap." You laugh at that and joke that Sam can't actually tell bourbon from whiskey or scotch. "Just get my damned drink ready. I'll be there in half an hour." you hear the click on the other line indicating he's ended the call. A few minutes later the bell above the bar door chimes. A lady walks in, scans the bar and spots the empty bar stool next to you. She makes her way over and asks if the seat is free. You smile and offer the seat thinking that you, Sam and the replacement can get a booth later when they arrive. "Thanks" She smiles in gratitude, takes a seat and looks over the bar and orders a drink. She's cute and Sam is taking some time to arrive so you strike up a conversation with her. She's smart and funny and new in town; but as the conversation carries on, you also notice her looking furtively over to 2 guys seated at a table behind you. You quietly ask if the men are bothering her. "They've been looking over here a lot since I sat down." She says quietly. Noticing the tinge of discomfort in her tone, you offer to go over and talk to the men but she quickly stops you. "It's alright, I don't want to make a scene." she says nervously. You assure her that it won't be an issue because you own the bar along with many other establishments on that street and she'll be safe with you. You note the surprise on her face followed by a doubtful look. "this isn't a line is it?" she asks. You laugh and call your bartender Issac over to vouch for you. "Oh yeah he's the big boss around here." He grunts in response "Good ol slave driver he is" She laughs at that and seems appeased. You give your assurances and get her another drink. You notice her glancing over the two men again. She looks a little worried now. To ease her mind you offer her to drink with you in your office located at the end of the bar away from the patrons. You also tell her it has an door leading to the back so she can leave without going through the front door later. She's abit dubious but finally agrees after a bit more convincing . You leave a quick word to the bartender to tell Sam where to find you. You lead the way to your office through a short corridor with her in tow. As you enter your office, the noise of the bar dies down. But as you close the door the two men from the bar suddenly barge in, throwing you off balance and almost tripping you. You demand an explanation but one of them lands a punch to your abdomen. You double over from the pain and try to get back at them, only to have a second punch land on your jaw. You glance over at your lady as you grapple with the first guy whose accomplice is now walking towards her. You frantically tell her to leave out the door next to her and yell at the second guy to leave her alone. Suddenly, you hear a loud crack and the guy you were fighting falls unconscious. You see Sam standing above him with a retractable baton in his hand. You comment on Sam's timing and quickly move off to the side to get to your lady but suddenly stop when you see her deliver a neat roundhouse to the second guy's jaw knocking him out cold. "Local thugs" Sam says recognizing the unconscious figures sprawled on thefloor. "Usually specializing in kidnap for ransom." You're half listening at this point cause you are focused on your lady. She's on her phone with the police and barely rattled. Sam inquires after you again to check if you're hurt. You wave him off and approach your lady to inquire after her and comment on how she was able to knock out a guy twice her size but also mention that she must be pretty important for those guys to get her. Before she can answer, Sam sees the exchange and laughs. You turn and ask him what's so funny? You're also a bit annoyed that Sam is taking a casual tone with her after the attempted kidnapping. Sam laughs again "I think all that money of yours scrambled your brains man. That kidnapping was intended for YOU. We got word from a few guys that there would be a hit on you. Little Missy here was handy in combat because it was her JOB." That's when it suddenly dawns: She was never actually trying to get away from the men, she was trying to get YOU away from them by getting you into the office. She was never in any real danger because she was actually trying to protect you. You watch as she gives you an almost cocky smile as she extends her hand "Pleasure to meet you again sir. I'm Andrea, your new head of security.