Jimmy Marshall was raised by sitcoms; whenever his parents wanted him out of their hair, they would put him in front of the television, and he would visit some of his best friends: Sam Malone, Richie Cunningham, Alex P. Keaton, his only pet, ALF, and his amusing Aunts, The Golden Girls. His mother was Roseanne, and his father was Danny Tanner. This impacted his personality; he was quick with a family-safe one-liner and spoke in a comforting and concise way. Flash forward to the present day, and the whole country is going through a nostalgia craze, reboots of these beloved shows, a longing for simpler days, and a reappreciation of these characters is omnipresent in the country. As a result, Jimmy changed his name to James and became a politician. James Marshall soared to the top of the polls. It helped that he had the same name as Harrison Ford's character in the film "Air Force One," a badass president who kicks terrorists off his plane while yelling, "Get off my plane!" The name, charisma, and eidetic recall of these shows resulted in a candidate that captured the nation's zeitgeist at the moment. During a debate, he quoted "The Golden Girls" on LGBTQ issues, "She happens to like girls instead of guys. Some people like cats instead of dogs; frankly, I'd rather live with a lesbian than a cat, unless the lesbian sheds, that I don't like." Speaking to factory workers, quoted "Cheers," "Look, it's a dog-eat-dog world, and I'm wearing Milkbone underwear." In an Iowa caucus stump speech, quoted "Family Ties," "What is the meaning of life? That's simple. Try to be happy, try not to hurt other people, and hope to fall in love." James was a long shot, an underdog, and lacked political experience, but, in an incredible story of the right man at the right time, he was elected President of the United States. Unfortunately, some of the characteristics that made him an attractive candidate did not translate to the office of President. He quickly recognized that complicated problems could not be solved in 22 minutes without commercials, that the office sometimes demanded less than family-friendly actions, and that the situation room lacked a laugh track. The country was running a fiscal deficit that needed to be balanced. The only thing that sprang to mind was a "Family Matters" episode in which Carl sells Lemon Tarts to make money. The government sold Lemon Tarts and other desserts, reduced the deficit by 0.02%, closed 200 bakeries, and gave diabetes to one-third of the population. The country was experiencing a fentanyl epidemic. The President took action; he recalled a special episode of "The Golden Girls" in which Rose's pills are mistakenly spilled into the sink, revealing that she is hooked on the pills and is experiencing withdrawal symptoms. The "Sink the Drugs" campaign, on the other hand, falls flat because the episode never portrayed the hard work of rehab, merely Rose's return in the following episode. Internationally, some of our enemies are keen on testing the new President. President Marshall's foreign policy is heavily influenced by bullying episodes. In "Growing Pains," an episode focuses on Ben being bullied by another student, Razor, so Ben signs up for karate lessons. In the episode "A Pinch for a Pinch" on "Full House," Michelle is bullied after a kid pinches her at school, and she is urged to fight back. In "Punky Brewster," Punky was bullied at school and learned self-defense from boxer Marvin Hagler. These aggressive techniques were first perceived as strong, but international affairs sometimes demanded a more nuanced approach. President Marshall found himself in three wars, five embargoes, and had a karate sensei and two professional boxers on his White House staff. The President also drew flak for certain out-of-date references; he dressed as "Bosom Buddies" on Halloween, offending the transgender community; and came to a state dinner in General Lee from "Dukes of Hazard;" social media had a field day. President Marshall was clearly out of his depth and began to rely on advisors more and more. Things did not, however, improve. In addition, the nostalgia frenzy began to fade, leaving President Marshall with poor approval ratings and a head full of out-of-date information. Toward the end of his Presidential term, James was down and decided that if he was going to be voted out, he was going out on his terms. He was tired of being reactive and wanted to start being proactive. President Marshall made the decision to modernize the nation's recycling program. He made this decision based on an episode of "The Cosby Show," in which Rudy Huxtable's class learns about the importance of recycling and the harmful effects of pollution on the environment. The recycling program was a big success and quickly became the global standard. The President then invested in a high-speed rail system connecting the country's largest cities. This decision was influenced by an episode of "Family Ties" in which Alex P. Keaton promoted the idea to his father as a method to increase the economy and relieve traffic congestion. The rail system was finished at record speed and significantly improved the country's transportation infrastructure. He enhanced the education system by employing lessons from "The Wonder Years," and he even assisted in the resolution of a labor dispute by employing principles from "Who's the Boss?" As his first term came to an end, his approval ratings began to rise. He knew if he was going to be re-elected, he would need a grand gesture to the American people, one that would occur at the end of his beloved sitcoms. He remembered an episode of "Happy Days" in which Fonzie water skies over a shark. He always thought it was a fantastic feat that would impress the American people. President Marshall arrived at the dock dressed similarly to the scene, in a swimsuit and a leather jacket. The President completed the stunt successfully, but upon his return to shore, he learned it did not have the impact he expected. His poll numbers continued to fall from there, and the President had literally and metaphorically jumped the shark. James Marshall was not re-elected to a second term, but he will be remembered as a nonpartisan politician who, if only for a short time, brought the country together over sitcoms.


Not my first story, but my first in a while. Felt like writing, wrote this, decided to share. I'll welcome any criticism if it is constructive! \ He felt like he had been pushed into the sea with brute force and murderous intent, leaving behind the boat that allowed him freedom from the waves and the deep that scared him and inviting in the deep and dark waters of the Atlantic under him. He had no brick tied to his leg, his arms were not tied up, but he knew that he was destined to die here. He knew he would eventually sink deep, further and further down until breath escaped him and water filled his lungs, becoming just another part of the sea floor.  He had not asked to be pushed, and he hope whoever found him would know that. He had been pushed, he thought, his thought screaming at him. I WAS PUSHED. But he knew whoever found him would determine his death as a suicide and move on. If they ever did find him. They probably wouldn't.  His father had drowned. He had just remembered that now. His father had boarded a plane from England where he was on business, a plane that was headed toward an airport in New York. That plane had crashed. Right into the Atlantic, where he was now drowning. His father had survived longer than he would. His father had used his seat as a raft, ultimately found the life raft from the plane and used that. His father was careless. He had punctured the raft, put a hole in it. He had sunk with increasing dread, praying to the god who may or may not have been there. He was at the bottom of the Atlantic now. His father had always been careless.  He had a chance, perhaps a small chance, but a chance nonetheless of meeting his father at the ocean floor. Maybe he would be found and taken away by a mermaid to ATLANTIS, and he would be accepted into their society and would live a new life.  As he continued to sink deeper, he thought of who could have pushed him. There was a party on the boat, not a large party. Just a small party. 10, 20 people. Maybe. For all know he could have slipped. But he needed to blame someone that was not himself. He couldn't have been so careless, not like his father had been careless. He wondered... could he have been?  He felt himself getting weaker and weaker, sinking deeper and deeper. He saw fish swimming around, swimming in their world, a world that was not his, he was just simply an uninvited visitor who was careless enough to find himself sinking in the Atlantic.  As a young man he had never feared death. At 14 when he heard the news his father had gone missing, presumed dead, he had not feared death. At 14, when he heard his father had found the raft, his father had a chance to survive but didn't, he had not feared death. When his mother was struck with Lupus which could ultimately kill her and at the very least would give her excruciating pain, he had not feared death.  What he had feared was hopelessness. The feeling of dread and pain that accompanied the feeling that he had no more power. He had no power now, he could feel his body giving up, relaxing, finally realizing that he would sink, and keep sinking. He closed his eyes one final time. Saw nothing.


It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me. And that's when you met me. "What... what happened?" You asked. "Where am I?" "You died," I said, matter-of-factly. No point mincing words. "There was a... a truck and it was skidding..." "Yup." I said "I... I died?" "Yup. But don't feel bad about it. Everyone dies." I said. You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. "What is this place?" You asked. "Is this the afterlife?" "More or less," I said. "Are you God?" You asked. "Yup." I replied. "I'm God." "My kids... my wife," you said. "What about them?" "Will they be alright?" "That what I like to see," I said. "You just died and your main concern is for your family. That's good stuff right there." You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn't look like God. I just looked like some man. Some vague authority figure. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty. "Don't worry," I said. "They'll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn't have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it's any consolation, she'll feel very guilty for feeling relieved." "Oh," you said. "So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?" "Neither," I said. "You'll be reincarnated." "Ah," you said. "So the Hindus were right." "All the religions are right in their own way," I said. "Walk with me." You followed along as we strolled in the void. "Where are we going?" "Nowhere in particular," I said. "It's just nice to walk while we talk." "So what's the point, then?" You asked. "When I get reborn, I'll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won't matter." "Not so!" I said. "You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don't remember them right now." I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. "Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It's like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it's hot or cold. You put a tiny part or yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you've gained all the experiences it had." "You've been a human for the last 34 years, so you haven't stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for longer, you'd start remembering everything. But there's no point doing that between each life." "How many times have I been reincarnated, then?" "Oh, lots. Lots and lots. And into lots of different lives." I said. "This time around you'll be a Chinese girl in 540 A.D." "Wait, what?" You stammered. "You're sending me back in time?" "Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from." "Where do you come from?" You pondered. "Oh sure!" I explained. "I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you'll want to know what it's like there but you honestly won't understand." "Oh." you said, a little let down. "But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, could I have interacted with myself at some point?" "Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own timespan you don't even know it's happening." "So what's the point of it all?" "Seriously?" I asked. "Seriously? Your asking me for the meaning of life? Isn't that a little stereotypical?" "Well it's a reasonable question." you persisted. I looked in your eye. "The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature." "You mean mankind? You want us to mature?" "No. just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature, and become a larger and greater intellect" "Just me? What about everyone else?" "There is no one else," I said. "In this universe, there's just you, and me." You stared blankly at me. "But all the people on earth..." "All you. Different incarnations of you." "Wait. I'm everyone!?" "Now you're getting it." I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back. "I'm every human who ever lived?" "Or who will ever live, yes." "I'm Abraham Lincoln?" "And you're John Wilkes Booth, too." I added. "I'm Hitler?" you said, appalled. "And you're the millions he killed." "I'm Jesus?" "And you're everyone who followed him." You fell silent. "Every time you victimized someone," I said, "You were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you've done, you've done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you." "Why?" You asked me. "Why do all this?" "Because someday, you will become like me. Because that's what you are. You're one of my kind. You're my child." "Whoa." you said, incredulous. "You mean I'm a god?" "No. Not yet. You're a fetus. You're still growing. Once you've lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born." "So the whole universe," you said. "It's just..." "An egg of sorts." I answered. "Now its time for you to move on to your next life." And with that, I sent you on your way.


Travel to one of the most amazing collection of planetary vacation opportunities you will ever have a chance to see. The **Telix planetary system** is comprised of eight roughly earth sized planets, three with breathable atmospheres. With a little something for every one, you are sure to find the beauty and excitement that is the **Telixian** experience. Owned and operated by **United Container** the leader in commercial storage for more than 400 years, some of the **Telix** system has been adapted to a luxury resort for recreational travel. Set up a consultation for your visit as soon as you can. Shuttles leave from **The UC** Starbace every standard day. The **Telixian** star is almost identical to the Earth sun in almost every way. Being a short, 37 Standard L.Y. trip from Earth, you can be at the **UC Starbace** in less than one standard month. And it is only 14 Standard L.Y. from Venaos. Telix is a rare gem. **Telix 1** One of the most desolate, bleak and driest places in the known galaxy. Used mostly for long term storage, **Telix 1** has no detectable weather of any kind. It is a smooth spherical planet with a hard featureless sandstone like surface. It is described article in *Planet Hopper's guide*: "Places I Wish I Never Went" , as "*a giant gray ball monotony broken up by storage containers*." It is utterly devoid of any life other than the company employees heavily suited up in hazardous environmental equipment. Some extreme sports enthusiasts still travel there to experience the sport of container jumping in the two thirds Earth gravity. Over 400 deaths are reported per standard year, although body retrieval is not always possible. Sand storms will blow at some 100 km for up to one standard day, then stop for no apparent reason. The sand, being made of sharp micro silica particles often polishes everything metallic to a high luster , leaving it gleaming in the glow of the terrain. Container delivery is a constant source of exhaust gases. Making the planet's atmosphere forever unbreathable. Yet the glow of the fire trails of incoming and out going deliveries against the night sky is said to be an amazing sight, and well worth the trip alone. **Telix 2** , In contrast to the previous, this is a planet with an abundance of plant life. Yet, early archeological excavations have found only six different species of animal fossils on the entire planet. Only two surviving species are left on the surface of this lush world. The Zotten is a heavily scaled, seven armed vertebrate having one large center aligned mouth. It averages some three meters in height. Having an obnoxious smell, and making a loud sound as they move through the forest of vegetation feeding on plant life. It strips plant life continually stuffing it into it's mouth in a blur of speed. Listed as the most obnoxious organism ever discovered in Adventures in Space Travels, the Zotten do not fair well in captivity due to a high metabolize rate. The last attempt died in transit to the offworld zoological park, before it could be loaded for travel, from starvation. Their mating season is only five minutes , ever two standard years. This keeps the population down for this voracious eater that would otherwise strip the planet to a desert. They lay one egg per mating season. The second species is a small fur covered disc shaped creature averaging one half meter in diameter called a Gob. Lacking any mobility of their own, a Gob has a very low metabolize rate to avoid starvation. A gob may spend most of it's life never coming in contact with another of it's own kind. The continued existence of the gob species is thought to be directly due to the zotten's eating habits. Gobs have a very bitter taste to zotten. As a hungry zotten shoves almost everything into it's mouth while passing through, gobs are also picked up. A zotten will spit a gob up to half of a kilometer upon tasting one. Travelers baring the noise and smell can delight at the fantastic sight of the flinging of the gobs as infuriated zotten spit them in all directions. It has been theorized that all other animal life forms have either been trampled to death or died of shock. Fossels of early life forms appear to have a shocked look to them. **Telix 3** A world covered entirely with ocean. Surprisingly, it is crystal clear and has a purity that revels any body of water yet found. The diverse life forms found in the water are very delicate, and are all invertebrates. The average water depth is twenty meters. Although there are fourteen moons around **Telix 3**, there is no noticeable tidal effect on the planet wide sea. **Telix 3** is also the the only planet in the system with moons. A scientific observation station was placed on the planet over fifty standard years ago. To avoid contamination supplies as well as personnel exchange is handled by electromagnetic rail sling, and capture. A famous contamination leak of cooling fluid took place some 10 standard years ago. The cost for containment and clean up had almost put United Container out of business, threatening to shut down the very productive **Telix 1** operations. There is of course a permanent ban on all travel to this planet to anyone with out science clearance. Illegal exportation of any of the indigenous life form of **Telix 3** is punishable by life imprisonment . One poacher was caught off world selling a Dieso, which is an organism similar to an earth Jelly fish. It has a neurotoxin that can kill most of the current population of Earth, per micro gram. Dieso carry on average up to four litters of a two part mix that becomes the toxin when frightened. **Telix 4** A frozen world, with snowy mountainous terrain, for winter sports with out end. The snow never ends, but in a scenic calm. There are no blizzards, or oceans on **Telix 4**. Every winter sport that has every been thought of is here, and waiting for you to enjoy. There are over 400 U.C. hotels with connecting high-speed rail . **Telix 5 through 8** These are gas planets and are only useful for scientific observation. Prior approval is needed before travel in U.C. rated craft to observe them. Inquire about rates, and reservations. **United Container , 2189** *At U.C.


As my heart pounded against my chest and my eyes began to blur I knew this was it. My lungs burned and my head felt as if it were going to explode. As whatever was wrapped around my leg pulled me deeper into the water all I could do was imagine; imagine the way my life was, what it could have been. the mistakes I made and all the people I had hurt, that had hurt me. I could feel my entire body loosen and I felt weightless. The last thing I saw was a blurred human-shape swimming towards me. As darkness clouded my mind my life flashed before my eyes. I was sitting in class, she looked back at me. The rest of the room faded out. The only thing that existed was her. Her golden eyes were filled with mystery and intrigue. She started walking towards my desk. I remember the feel of my hands shaking as she spoke. “You dropped this in the hallway.” she said, handing me my student card. Her hand brushed against mine. “Thanks so much.” I said, feeling my face turn tomato, which I guess she picked up on. “No problem. I’m Tereza by the way.” Her voice sent chills down my body, sounding like an old friend and someone you needed the approval of at the same time. “Julia is I- my name is.” I relived the embarrassment of that moment, feeling the sourness of mispronouncing the words, believing I had lost her respect that I so clearly craved. The scenery changed. Now we were at a park. That’s right, this happened about a week after the classroom incident. She found me “charming in a foolish way.” Those were her words. I found it endearing the first time she had said it to me. The way she looked, talked and just her general character had reeled me in, making it so I didn’t want to disappoint her, let alone even think of her as any less than perfect. We sat on the park bench around 3am. We just sat and talked for hours but the part my dying body decided to show me was when we saw a frog. At this point it was about 4am. We still sat on the bench, a frog hopped towards us. “Aw, look at this little guy.” I exclaimed. Picking the little thing, thinking she’d find this barely palm-size creature as adorable as I did. “It looks... slimy.” she declared. “It is a bit wet and cold. Do you want to hold it?” I asked, knowing I should put it down soon so it doesn’t get too stressed. In reality I wasn’t quite sure if frogs even felt stress. Surely they did. “Sure.” Tereza said. I gently slid the frog into her hands like a wholesome drug deal. She cupped her hands around the frog, giggling as she did it. Her laugh made my heart stop for a moment. It was the type of laugh you’d do anything to hear again. And then her true colours came out. She giggled harder as she squeezed the frog, its eyes bulging out. “What are you doing?” I yelled, grabbing her hand. “It’s just a frog.” She replied, smirking. I was shocked at how such an amazing person could be so cruel. I remember the confusion and fear I had felt that day. I felt like crying, not in front of her though, “I Have to go. I’m tired.” I said, having to get away from her. As I started to walk away her hand wrapped around my wrist, her nails digging into my skin. I swung around to look at her. She immediately loosened her grip. “I’m sorry. I just don’t have many friends and don’t really get out much. Please forgive me.” she said, tears in her eyes as she pulled me into a hug, sobbing so hard she soaked the shoulder of my shirt. I should have said ‘No. It’s not ok, get away from me.’ But I was foolish. “It’s ok.” I whispered as she pulled away. She wiped the tears and snot away off her face. Makeup was smudged and running down her face. “Thank you.” She said. Scenery began to shift again. Between the regular memories she kept showing up. “Hello, my love.” her voice rang in my mind. Her coming up behind me, running her fingers through my hair and whispering those words in my ear. I had to admit I loved the attention from her. We were on a sidewalk, the brisk wind stung my face so when she cupped my cheek with her hand I welcomed the warmth. For some reason she always wanted to hang out a night, which I never understood but didn’t question. This had been months after the second occurrence. We had been ‘dating’ for a couple weeks, despite her not calling me her girlfriend. I had assumed it was because she wasn’t out or something like that. That night we sat in a field, watching the stars. I could see a man walking in the distance out of the corner of my eye. He had started walking closer until Tereza sat up. “You.” Is all he said in a haunted whisper. His eyes grew wide before he continued walking, head down and arms tight to his body. As he walked past, picking up his pace, Tereza looked at me and smiled before saying “I’ll be right back.” and walking towards him. As soon as she stood up he started sprinting. I hadn’t a clue why this grown man was afraid of this thin, teenage girl who was a good few inches shorter than him. They disappeared behind some bushes. Afraid for Tereza's safety, I followed. “Where’s my money, Derek.” I heard her whisper between giggles. Looking through the bushes to see what was going on, I witnessed as she crouched over his shivering body with a hunting knife, The moonlight strategically shining, showing the glimmer in her eyes and that wicked smile. “Please, just give me a bit more time. I can get it, my paycheck comes in soon.” The man whimpered, trying to squirm out from under her boot. “You have until Tuesday. She replied, lifting her boot off his chest for a moment before stomping on his head. As his head slumped to the side he had made direct eye contact with me. “Help.” he mouthed as I stepped away from the bush. I ran, which I’m aware wasn’t the smartest move but I was a dumb teenager. I could hear her catching up with me. “Please, Julia, wait.” She said, once again grabbing my arm to stop me from getting away. I shook off her hand. “Get away from me.” I had said in a hushed but sharp tone. The genuinely hurt look in her eyes as she let go was almost enough for me to look past her crazy side. In reality, we all had flaws, right? “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” Was the last thing I had said to her that night, leaving her alone in the darkness. The scenes kept shifting faster, wavering in and out. There was a light coming from somewhere, making the memories harder to focus on. She kept appearing, scenes throughout months of her desperately trying to convince me to forgive her, getting progressively more aggressive. The last memory was of her walking up to me while I was alone, pushing me against the nearest wall, her knife stuck in it beside me and her face inches from mine. “Forgive me. I’ve changed.” She said, a crazy look in her eyes, the same expression I’d seen as she held that man under her boot. She enjoyed this, getting people to do as she told out of fear. “I told you I didn’t want to talk to you anymore.” I said before shoving her out of my way. “You’re so dramatic!” she stated, “ I’ll remember this. I have connections, Julia. You can’t get away from me, you’ll have to forgive me eventually.” Her tone had changed from ‘mightier than thou’ to desperate. “I don’t care.” I had replied. Her expression changed, a wave of calm washed away her cruel, hurt expression. “I hope you drown.” Was the last thing she had said to me. It had been years since that happened yet the words rang in my mind as the light kept getting brighter. There was talking around me but by this point it just sounded like Charlie Brown's parents. I started to make out the words and shapes. There were 3 people standing over me in a triangle shape, concerned expressions on their faces. “Hey, she’s waking up. Hey, you ok?” the middle man said, lifting my head a bit. “Yeh- yes.” I said, A sharp feeling surrounded my throat and stomach as I talked. “How long have I been out?” I managed to ask. “Only a few seconds, roughly 10. Still scary though, thought you were a goner.” The man replied, helping me up. “We called an ambulance.” The girl on the left said. “Thank you.” I croaked. They continued to ask me questions but my eyes focused on something in the distance. Then I recognized it, that wicked smile. Her.


The sky was so blue. The sun was so bright. The wind was blowing ever so subtly. The day was perfect. How could such a catastrophic event happen on such a day? I found myself suddenly hanging off the edge of a cliff. The only thing that I could hold onto was a small metal bar that was about two feet long. It stuck about a half a foot out from the cliff, and it was at least 5 feet away from the top of the cliff side. My main problem? The bar was boiling hot. It was as if it had come straight out of the fires of hell. The longer I held on, the more it burned my flesh. It hurt. A lot. I kept trying to slightly adjust myself, but that just ended up making it burn more. For a moment, I thought about letting go. *What’s the worst that could happen?* I thought. I looked down at what was beneath me. There was a massive dark hole at the bottom of the cliff. There was no way of knowing what lied within. However, the cliff side was so far up and the darkness was so far below that any person would inevitably die upon impact when they fell into the darkness. I quickly looked back up at the bar above me and tried to find a way out of this. How did I even get here? I honestly don’t know myself. One minute, I was standing with both feet perfectly on the ground. Everything seemed right with the world. Nothing in particular seemed too troubling at that moment. Then suddenly, I was thrown off the side of a cliff. I grabbed the bar as soon as I saw it and I held on tightly for dear life. I kept frantically looking around for a way out. There had to be *something*! It couldn’t just *end* like this! I looked at the rocks around me on the cliff wall. The rocks all seemed glossy smooth. There was no way to jump and grab hold of any of them. My hands were quickly blistering from the burns. I *had* to find something and soon. I looked up at the top of the cliff. It didn’t seem *too* far away. If I could find some way to get up there, I could get back onto the ground, and then I’d be fine. I just had to pull myself up past the bar. I attempted to avoid the pain in my hands as I lifted myself up over the bar and tried to reach higher. I knew I wouldn’t be able to reach it like this, but I had to at least gauge the distance between me and the top. I pulled myself up more. My knees were now at the same height as the bar, but I couldn’t rest now. I was so close! I lifted my right hand off the bar. It felt so nice to let it feel the air again instead of a burn. I reached my right hand up towards the top of the cliff. I could already start to see the green grass on the other side. Then, my right knee rubbed against the bar. My leg instantly began to sizzle. I shrieked in pain as I quickly lost balance. I fell back down below the bar, but my left arm twisted uncomfortably. I was now hanging from the bar by only my left hand, and I was looking down directly into the dark abyss below me. Also, when I lost balance and fell back down, it felt like my left arm popped out of the socket a bit. I cried out more. Not only was my arm burning because of the damned bar, but it was probably broken now. I could feel my left arm going numb. I had to swing my right arm back up onto the bar quickly. I turned myself back around and hesitantly grabbed a hold of the bar with my right hand. All the pain of the burning returned. For a very quick moment, I lifted my left hand off the bar. It still felt almost broken, and I had almost no feeling in it. I brought it down to my side and I looked at it. My left hand was burnt beyond recognition into a strange browny-black color. At least four layers of flesh had been burned clean off of my palm, and I could see the same thing happening to my right hand. It was clear that anytime I would try to climb to the top of the cliff, it would only make things worse. I was running out of options, and I was running out of time. If I stayed put and did nothing, my hands would be burnt all the way down to the dry bones which would make me fall nonetheless. I started to scream and make as much noise as possible. My main hope at this point was that someone would hear and come help me up. I continued to shout and scream for assistance. I would stop every so often to hear if anyone was coming. No one ever was. After a few minutes of helplessly shrieking like a child, I began to break down. I knew *no one* was coming. No one could hear me. I started to weep. My arms were getting tired and weaker by the second. I could literally hear the flesh on my hands burning off. I picked my head up. I used my shoulders to wipe some of the tears away. I *needed* to do something. I couldn’t just hang there in pain like that. I was only getting worse the longer I hung there. *Anything* was better than this elongated torture. Then, a small thought came to me. I looked down at the unrelenting darkness below me. *What exactly* is *down there? What would happen if you let go right now?* No! What the hell am I saying? I have *no* idea what happens if I let go of this bar. All I *do* know is it leads to certain death. I might be in pain now, but it’s gonna hurt a lot more if I fall. *But what if there’s a huge pool of water or something down there? It’ll cushion your fall.* Even if there *is* some sort of body of water down there, a fall from this height into water could still be highly fatal! I’m not taking that chance. Besides, there’s *no* possible way there’s a pool of water down there. I know if I let go of this bar, that will be the end. There is no chance of life going on. That’s it. It’s over. There’s nothing but eternal darkness and silence down there. The world will dissolve into nothingness. Right now, I may be in a massive amount of pain, but at least I know I’m alive and there’s still hope. I’m not letting go. I will continue to hold on until I’m saved. I continued to look around the cliff side for something I could use to save myself since it was clear no one else was coming anytime soon. I reached my feet out to try and touch the wall, but it was just a bit too far away, and I was so exhausted that I could barely move any part of my body. It was becoming increasingly harder to support my entire body with just my right arm. I’m not a terribly muscular person, but I can support my own body weight for a few minutes. Not this long, though, and that doesn’t take into account the immense burning pain in my hand was currently enduring. It was becoming near unbearable. I looked back down at the black hole in the earth. *You are running out of time!* Shut up. *Maybe it won’t be so bad. Falling into that abyss of nothing.* Stop! I’m not letting go! *Eventually, that choice will not be available for you to make. The bar will burn through your flesh and you will be forced to fall. You will have absolutely no control.* I don’t know that for certain. Someone could come and save me. *Just listen to yourself. No one can save you! Look at yourself. You’re in pain. There’s only one way out of this. Think about all the pain you could spare yourself by letting go right now. Your hands won’t burn anymore. Your arm won’t be broken anymore. If you fall, it* will *hurt. That’s true. It’ll hurt a lot, but I guarantee the pain won’t last as long. Soon, it’ll be nothing but silence. It’ll all be over.* I kept looking back and forth between the darkness and the bar. I was in the same exact position I was in five minutes ago, if not in a *worse* position, and I’ll be in the same position five minutes from now. Nothing will change besides my pain level. That will continue to rise exponentially. I looked down at the darkness. It looked so unforgiving. So mysterious. So. . . final. There would be no coming back. . . but maybe that’s okay. I took one final glance at the bar. At the cliff top which seemed so close yet so far. At my horribly mutilated left arm. At my hand that seemed to slowly loosen its grip on the bar with every passing moment. I shut my eyes, took a deep breath, and let go. I let the darkness surround me. There was nothing but silence. I snapped myself back to reality. I opened my eyes. I was back to where I was before I began daydreaming. In the hospital waiting room. The same place I had been for countless hours before. Just being there made me weak. The doctor came out of one of the hospital rooms. He walked over to me and said I could go in now if I wanted. I slowly nodded my head. I stood up and followed the doctor back into the hospital room. I stepped in. He waited outside and shut the door behind me. I looked down at the colorless hospital bed in the center of the room. I looked at the poor woman lying on top of it. She was dressed in a typical hospital gown and socks. There were several tubes traveling from large machines into various parts of her body. A heart monitor stood next to her bed. It’s beeping had decreased in frequency ever since they first turned it on. The woman’s eyes were closed. She seemed tired. Exhausted. I started to sniffle a little. The woman must’ve heard me because she opened her eyes and looked over at me. The moment she saw me, she smiled. Her entire face lit up. She would’ve normally sat up upon seeing me, but she could barely move. I quickly tried to match her smile by putting one on my own face. It wasn’t a real smile, but if I didn’t do it, I would’ve ended up crying my eyes out again, and I had already done that enough in the past year. She extended her arm out to me. I walked towards the bed and snuggled in close to her. All was silent for a moment besides the sound of us breathing together. How did we ever get here? Less than a year ago, everything was fine. She was so hyper and adventurous. It was perfect. Then suddenly, she got sick. . . and she didn’t get better. Luckily, the doctors were able to get to her before it got *too* bad. But it’s just been going downhill ever since then. Everything they’ve tried has just made her worse. Maybe if they didn’t do anything, she would’ve been better off, but I guess we’ll never know now. Eventually, she figured out that nothing they were doing was helping her. Even in the last few months when she just kept getting worse, they kept trying to find something because . . . there *had* to be something. It couldn’t just *end* like this. But my mom thought otherwise. She said she didn’t want any more medicine or treatment. She just wanted nature to take its course. Everyone seemed to think this was a *great* idea. . . everyone except for me. Was I the *only* one who realized what was going to happen? . . . what was going to happen if we let her go? We couldn’t let that happen. *I* wasn’t going to let that happen. I kept trying to convince her to use more medicine, find other cures, even though they never worked. Even though it only made her worse. I just wanted her to get better. I just wanted her to be saved. There would be days when I would feel so down about it that I would just start crying as if *I* were the one in constant physical pain. It had consumed my life. The thought that one day, I would wake up and she wouldn’t be there. It was times like that when I would think to myself, *What if you let go of her right now? What would happen? It might not be as bad as you think. If you’re hurting so badly, why not get rid of the pain?* Absolutely not! What was I thinking? That’s a horrible thing to think. For the longest time, I avoided the thought and constantly prevented it from entering my mind, but now as I sat directly next to her with her body wrapped close to mine, the thoughts started to return. *She is running out of time.* Shut up. I knew exactly what would happen if I let her go. She would leave me forever. I knew if I let go of her, that would be the end. There would be no chance of her life going on. That’s it. It’s over. There would be nothing left for her but eternal darkness and silence. The world around her would dissolve into nothingness. I may be hurting a lot, but at least I know she’s alive and there’s still hope. I’m not letting go. I will continue to hold on until she’s saved. I expected a doctor to burst through the door at any moment and proclaim that he found the miracle cure that will save my mom for sure. I kept counting down the seconds till it would happen. . . I must’ve counted down to zero at least a hundred times before I gave up. No one was coming. I slowly lifted my head up and looked down at my mother. She still had her eyes closed. The sides of her mouth curled up into a genuinely content smile. She didn’t seem afraid. She was perfectly happy with her decision. *Maybe it won’t be so bad.* I’m not letting her go. *Pretty soon, that choice will not be up to you. She will only get worse from here. Nothing can save her now. You are only prolonging the inevitable. She’s only gotten worse since last month, and she will only get even worse next month. Look at yourself. You’re in pain. You’re tired. You haven’t laughed for real in almost six months. You haven’t slept well since God knows when. Your face is red from how much you’ve cried. Look at her. She is hurting more than you can imagine. There is only one way out of this. Think about all the pain you could spare yourself by letting go right now. If you let her fall, it* will *hurt. That’s true. It’ll hurt a lot, especially for you, but the pain won’t last as long. Soon, it’ll be nothing but silence. It’ll all be over.* I kept looking at my mother. She continued to hug me close to her chest. I could see the pain making her weaker by the second. The pain alone was nearly killing her. I thought about what might happen if I let her fall. Her pain would be completely gone. *She* will be gone. She can never come back. I would be hurting for a while. . . but it won’t be nearly as bad as my current pain. I looked at her one more time. I could tell that she too was ready. I leaned in real close, and I kissed her gently on the cheek. I softly whispered that I loved her. She didn’t respond, but I could tell that she heard me and was mentally giving me the same response. Even though her eyes were shut, tears began to slowly stream down her face. I sniffled for a moment before I began to cry as well. I wrapped myself around my mother once more, and I held on tightly. Even though I didn’t want to, I knew it was time for her to fall. I took one final glance at my mother. At the woman who had loved me since the day I was born. At her smile which had lifted so many spirits on gloomy days. At her hair which seemed to grow greyer and thinner by the second. At her hands that seemed to slowly loosen their grip on me with every passing moment. I shut my eyes, took a deep breath, and. . . I let her go. There was nothing but silence. The heart monitor flatlined. I clung to my mother even though I knew the only thing left of her was her body. Eventually, I looked up. I opened my eyes once more. The first thing I saw was the open window on the side of the room. The sky was so blue. The sun was so bright. The wind was blowing ever so subtly. The day was perfect.


I Do, Esme This has to be perfect. Esme is coming in a couple of minutes, and my girl is never late. Which means I don’t have long to finalise the dinner preparations. “Okay, cutlery, check. Fairylights, check. Food?” I glance at my Rolex, “Hmm, dinner will be ready soon, that’s what the Head Chef said. Flowers? Check. Myself? Check.” The doorbell rings through the second floor’s intercom speakers, and I peer at my reflection, with my phone’s camera. Hmm, could’ve fixed my hair a little, but no matter, she’s here! “Hi, Witchy. You look ravishing,” “Rich Boy, how wonderful to see you again. As do you, you look most charming,” The butler who opened the door gives us mildly perplexed looks but doesn’t ask any questions. We both burst into laughter, and I hold my arm out to my girlfriend. “Ok, ok, when we get to the second floor, you have to close your eyes, is that alright?” “Am I getting a surprise?” “Hmm, perhaps,” “How vague, Ry. I expected more from an honour student like you,” “You’ll just have to trust me on this one, Es, you cheeky honour student,” She giggles at that, knowing full well we both write long essays in all our classes. We both walk up a flight of stairs, and I can’t help but notice everything about her. The cherry-red halter dress she’s wearing, with cherry earrings, and white peep-toe wedges. The faint red hue of her eyeshadow, her long lashes, and her pale pink lipstick. The best part is that she’s wearing the ruby (her favourite gemstone) necklace and matching bracelet I got her. Yes, I am knowledgeable in all degrees of fashion, you can thank my mother. “Are you admiring my wonderful fashion sense, or checking me out?” She asks me slyly, and I hum with delight. “Both. Kidding! It’s the first,” “Well, your mother does take her job very seriously,” “She’s not a rich fashion designer, model, and jeweller, for nothing. Ooh, okay, we’re here! Close your eyes, Witchy,” I cover my girlfriend’s eyes with one hand, and use the other to open the door to the ballroom. Which has been converted into a dining room for today’s date. “Okay,” I grin, “You can open your eyes,” I take my hand off her eyes, and let her take in the sight of everything. “Oh- wow. This... it’s so beautiful, Ryder,” “All prepared by yours truly,” Esme kisses my cheek. “Well done, yours truly,” She jokes, “Now, I want to see what we’re eating!” Like a true gentleman, I pull out her seat, wait till she’s seated, and then I sit down across her. “Is this a dining hall?” She asks, “No, actually. It’s a ballroom, except I took one table from the luncheon room, so it’s like our own private booth. Except replace ‘booth’ with ‘entire restaurant’,” Esme laughs and then takes a look at the menu card. “I’m guessing this menu card was also made by yours truly,” I nod, smiling like a madman. “They sound great, can I meet them?” I cough, covering my laugh, trying to sound serious. “He’s an extremely busy guy, has an amazing girlfriend, I can see if I can get in touch with him,” “Really?!” Esme gasps, “That. Would. Be. Amazing!” We both chuckle, and Esme reads the menu. “Pumpkin soup, hmm, simple, but nice. Excellent choice. Then, grilled chicken, an assortment of vegetables, and elegant sauces. Sounds fancy, and finally, dessert! Chocolate mousse with raspberry coulis and white chocolate meringue drops. This sounds so posh!” She exclaims, looking at me with wide eyes. “Flip it over, there’s something else on the back,” “Oh?” Esme flips over the menu and then smiles. “A surprise?” “Indeed,” “Ooh, is that a waiter?” I turn around and see a waiter coming through the doors. “Guess so,” I mutter, not realising Father had hired an actual professional waiter. “For you Mademoiselle,” He places Esme’s entree in front of her, “And you Monsieur,” We both look at the food, and her stomach growls, loudly. Esme laughs. “Thank you!” She tells the waiter, and as soon as he leaves, we both start eating. “So, how are your classes going?” I ask her, drinking my soup, watching her smile. “Eh, pretty normal. Lots of note-taking, drinking coffee, pulling all-nighters, all the good stuff,” “That entertaining, huh?” “Yep. What about you?” “Same things, honestly. How come all the assignments are due on the same day?!” I complain and Esme shrugs. “It’s university, Ryder. We’re honour students, it’s normal at this point,” “True,” I agree sadly, as the waiter comes back with the main course. “So, how are Mila and Aspen?” “Mila just got her double piercings, and Aspen is thinking of being a teacher. They both said hi,” “Awesome,” “This is going to sound rude but... is it okay if we stop talking? The food is really delicious,” I laugh, only Esme would ask permission for something like that. “Of course, of course. The faster you eat, the sooner you get your surprise.” Esme’s eyes widen slightly, and she continues to cut her meat. Once we’re both done, (Esme wouldn’t stop gushing about the dessert) the waiter takes all our dishes and two butlers come in to pack up the table. “Is it surprise time?” Esme asks, and she looks ready to jump up and down from sheer excitement. “It’s surprise time!” She cheers with delight; she’s so cute when she’s excited. “Take off your shoes, Esme,” My girlfriend follows my instructions, and I do the same, then roll up my sleeves. Music starts playing from the speakers. “I... It feels like I’m in a movie,” Esme breathes and I smile softly. “Well, milady? Shall we dance?” “Of course, dear sir.” At first, we don’t say anything. I lead Esme as we waltz to the ballroom music. The lights are slightly dimmed and it reminds me of Year 12 formal. It’s strange knowing that I didn’t know Es back then. After the ballroom and classic music plays, Ed Sheeran’s ‘Perfect’ comes on and Esme sighs happily. “I love this song,” She whispers, resting her head on my shoulder as we sway to the music. “That’s why I chose it,” I murmur in her ear. “Thank you, Ry. This is amazing,” “Anything for you, baby girl,” Esme kisses my earlobe, and then trails down my neck, tickling my skin. “Do you think...” I begin, as Esme kisses my cheek. “Ed Sheeran wrote this song about you?” She smiles, shaking her head. “You flatter me, Ryder, but no,” “You can’t weave your way out of this one, Es. I know you like flattery,” “To an extent,” She winks as the song reaches the chorus. “‘Darling, you look perfect tonight.’” I say, looking at Esme the whole time. “I love you too, Ryder.” She presses her lips against mine, her hands in my hair, and I give myself up to her. She is my home, my comfort, my peace of mind. She pulls away, gasping for breath and I lift her up, swinging her off her feet. “So, you decided to literally sweep me off my feet,” I can’t help but laugh. “Yes, exactly,” “Well, I’m glad you did. It feels like I’m in a dream,” “It’s my pleasure. Besides my parents love catering for dates like this, they love you,” “You can come over to my place next time. I won’t be as elaborate as yours but-” “Whatever you provide, I’ll be satisfied,” “Aww thanks, Ry.” And we go back to dancing in silence, our smiles brighter than the moon outside. Our movements and heartbeats synchronised as one. ~ -- 5 years later -- Everything is so different now. Esme and I have moved in together, in a large house my parents gave to me. Esme is still studying since her medical degree takes years, and I’ve completed my Masters. Plus, I co-own my father’s business, his excuse was, “I’m getting old, Ryder. You’ll have to help your old man out.” “Esme,” I say one crisp afternoon. “Hm?” “We’re twenty-four this year, can you believe six years ago we met at the graduation lunch?” “Six years?! Goodness, that makes me feel so old!” “We’re going to be middle-aged soon, oh Lord!” “Hah! I can see it now, you in a suit, walking to your business and everyone will know you as the big boss.” I laugh, “Well, I suppose that’s a nice thought.” -- 2 years later -- “Esme?” “Yes?” “I know... it’s crazy and frankly, a little early, but...” I get down on one knee. “Will you marry me?” “Oh my God... Yes! Of course, how could I say no?” She laughs, wiping her eyes, “I’m going to cry... Gah, you’re making me cry, Ryder!” She whacks my arm and I laugh, before pressing my lips onto hers. I slip the ring on her finger, a gold band with a small ruby on it. “I have the whole collection now!” She exclaims, hugging me so tightly I can barely breathe. “I love you, Esme.” “I love you, Ryder.” ~ “I know this isn’t a traditional way of starting your vows. Especially when these are the words you live with for the rest of your life. So, here goes nothing. Hi, Witchy,” There’s laughter from the crowd, and Esme doesn’t even try to hold back her smile. “I can’t believe seven years ago, we met. I think if we hadn’t, my life would’ve never changed. Thank you for being ‘you’, Esme. I love you for who you are, you make me the happiest person alive, and I would never change that for the world. I do, Esme. I do, so many times, even more times than Phillippa Soo sang in Helpless,” Esme grins at the musical reference. “You light up something inside of me. A burning passion that longs for you. I love you, Esme Peltonen.” “Hello, Ryder. Ry, Rich boy. I have so many things I want to say to you. You have given me everything I could’ve ever wanted. When Mila told me that afternoon, “Es, try to make some conversation with our fellow cohort!” I realised something. That was my last chance, the last thing I would do in high school. So, thank you, Mila!” She waves to her cousin, who’s grinning like her ship has sailed. Which it has. “I’m so glad I met you, Ryder Nibali. You’ve only changed me for the better. It looks like you’re stuck with me forever.” She smiles widely as the audience laughs again, and we exchange rings. “You may kiss the bride.” I don’t hear anything when I kiss Esme, no cheering or clapping, just the sound of her heart hammering like mine, as the wedding bells go off. -- 1.5 years later -- “Esme? I’m home!” I peer into the kitchen, only to find no one, where is she? “Esme!” I call, and search the house, dropping my laptop bag onto a chair. I walk into the bathroom, and Esme has a hand clamped over her mouth, as tears run down her face. “Esme!” I rush over to her, “Are you alright?” My voice goes an octave higher in desperation. “What if I’m not good enough, Ryder?! What if I can’t do it?” “Do what, Esme?” “Be a mother!” She sobs, and I laugh a little. “Oh God, darling, girl, you’re the most competent person, I know. You’re going to be fine, okay? I’ll be with you, every step of the way.” ~ I hold her hair back as she throws up. “I hate this,” She groans, and I sigh. “I know, baby girl, it won’t be for too much longer,” “Thank God,” She whispers. After a pause, she adds. “If it’s a boy, I call dibs with Landon,” “You can’t call dibs on our kid’s name, Esme!” “Yes, I can, and I just did!” “I like Eli, though,” “Fine. Landon Eli. Oh! Cassie if it’s a girl,” “And her middle name is Monica after your mum,” “Okay, so if it’s a boy, Landon Eli, and if it’s a girl, Cassie Monica?” “Sounds perfect.” ~ I smile fondly at the photo frame on the counter. “Daddy? What are you looking at?” I turn to see my son, and I lift him onto my lap. “This is your mum and I on our wedding day,” “Ooh, Mama’s so pretty!” “Isn’t she?” I kiss the back of my son’s head, hugging him gently. “I love you just as much as I love your mum,” “Woah, that’s a lot of love, Daddy. You love Mama soooo much!” “It sure is bud. One day, when you’re all grown up, you’ll understand how much I love her,” “But I’m already grown up, Daddy! I know how much you love Mama, so much, you would build her a new planet!” “A new planet?” “Uh-huh! A big purple one that has lots of stripes,” “Okay, Landon. That’s a little far-fetched. I don’t have the power to do that, buddy,” “Sure you do! Besides, it’s a good idea for a seven-year-old!” “True, you’re very smart for your age. You follow your mum after that,” We hear keys jangling in the front door, “Speaking of your mum, she’s home!” “Hi, Mama! Hi, Mama!” My son races to the front door, “Hey, Landon! How was your afternoon with Daddy?” “Awesome! He’s going to build a new planet for you!” “Oh?” Esme raises an eyebrow at me, and I shrug. “Welcome home, Es.” I say as the two of us hug Landon, as we share a loving look. The photo frame remains on the table, our smiles matching the ones we have right now. THE END


These Are My Friends Now I always hear that it’s supposed to get better but I know that won’t be until I go to college in a few years. So for now, my weekend nights are spent in the solitude of my room. The new phone that I got hasn’t ushered in an era of new text messages for me. My sense of loneliness has only increased due to visibility of the status updates about the parties going on and I check my phone all the time but there is never an invite. I just posted a joke in desperation, maybe which will get someone’s attention but I’m just grabbing at the dark. I skipped a song on Spotify when I saw the shadow of a person outside my room from the corner of my eye. I wasn’t expecting to see someone tonight, but maybe my parents came back early from their trip so I took off my headphones. Sounds of the cabinets opening and shifting came from the kitchen so I put down my laptop and got out of my bed. Even the mere interaction with my parents was much needed for me right now. “Mom? Dad?” I called out while walking down the dark hallway. The air was colder and the noises could still be heard but when I turned the corner into the lighted kitchen there was only silence. I must have just missed them and were already in their room. I followed the path that they would have taken to their room but I wasn’t hearing any noises of them. Once at their door I noticed that it was closed but I remembered seeing the door opened earlier. “I knocked on the door,” Can I come in?” There was no answer so I knocked again but there was still no response. I turned the knob of the door but for a moment it didn’t budge as if someone was on the other side holding it. “Dad,” I said again, “Can I come in?” The door knob finally turned in my hand and when I opened the door I expected to see my dad waiting to scare me, but the room was pitch black. The room let out a breath of icy air and I froze in place but I could feel each individual hair stand up from my skin. “Mom? Dad?” I said with my voice cracking. I wanted to walk into the room but every instinct refused to listen to my demands to enter. I took my phone out form my pocket and used the flashlight to brighten up the room but the light barely broke through the darkness. The light only lasted a few seconds before my phone shut off and I was staring into the pitch black room. I couldn’t break my stare with the room as if I had locked eyes with some predator but my feet began to back pedal on instinct. Two steps back and I heard the sound of children laughing. “Play?” A voice from the darkness said among the laughter. My heart stopped for a second but then went into overdrive, pumping excess amounts of adrenaline through my body and I shot my arm into the black room to pull closed the door. My grip on the door knob was strong but the door wouldn’t budge. “Come in,” the voice said, “Come in and play.” Both of my feet were planted deep in the carpet when I sent my other arm into the room as a final reinforcement to pull closed the door. Dread set in me as I felt the darkness surround me and the sight of my arms were disappearing into the darkness but I couldn’t stop my body from trying to force the door closed. From behind I could see the kitchen lights flickering and the cabinets were being opened as closed in a violent manner as I continued my struggle at the edge of the darkness. I lost feeling in my arms when the resistance on the door stopped and I slammed the door shut. The force of my pull caused me to end up on my ass and I heard the children laughing once again. Still on the ground, my body didn’t wait for me to get on my feet as I crawled backwards ways from the door. The lights in the kitchen stopped flickering and the noises stopped but that didn’t put me at ease. The house was still and I could hear each individual thud of my heard, but I could feel a menacing presence all around me. The hair on the back of my neck was trying to escape my body as I turned my back to my parent’s room. I could feel the hostile eyes of the predator stalking me from behind and it was ready to pounce on me at any second. Everything was telling me to run but I was just waiting for the signal. The kitchen light burnt out and I was chased back into my room. The door slammed behind me and I turned the lock. There was breathing on the other side of the door as I stood braced against it. I waited a few moments and then decided to lax my defense but as soon as I did something started hammering at the door. “Stop,” I cried as the banging continued but there was no stop to it. I stepped back knowing that the door would soon give way and I was ready to accept whatever would come through but I saw my silver cross necklace on the dresser. With the cross in hand I dropped to my knees in the center of the room. “God, help me,” I pleaded. With each hit on the door I held my eyes closed tighter, but then the hammering stopped. With open eyes I stared at my locked door still on my knees and I waited for anything to happen. I got up and put my ear to the door trying to make out any outside noise and stayed there for well over a minute when I heard slight scratches on my door. “Come out,” the voice whispered, “please.” The scratches increased and I backed away from the door but the menacing feeling was gone. My room felt safe as I sat on the bed but I never took my eyes away from the door. I would just have to wait it out in here until someone came to rescue me. The subtle sound of pacing outside my door was unnerving so I put my headphones back on to drown out the noise. My music wasn’t erasing the presence of whatever was outside so I raised the volume, but with every increase the outside sounds became louder. I started to sing along with the songs playing in my ears but the whispers never disappeared. The voices kept begging me to come outside. “Shut up,” I shouted as I threw my headphones against the wall. The voices didn’t stop and nothing was helping so I decided to just lie in bed until morning came. My walls were never touched with anything more than whispers and scratches but the rest of the house was being attacked with extreme hostility. “Get the fuck out here,” A deep voice vibrated throughout the house in frustration. In bed I closed my eyes and kept my hands clasped around my ears for what seemed like an eternity until the sounds just stopped. An hour of silence passed when Facebook alerted me to a new message. I jumped at my laptop for the chance to talk to someone. The message was from Haylee, a girl that I was somewhat familiar with at school. “Are you going to the party?” the message read. “I wasn’t planning on it,” I wrote back. Haylee started typing, “Why not?! You should come out and go with me.” “Alright, that sounds fun.” I replied and all the bad things that had happened earlier were cleared from my mind. “Yay, I sent the address to your phone,” she wrote, “Well I’m gonna get ready, I’ll see you there!” Before I could reply, Haylee went offline. This was the invite that I was waiting for all night but all the cheer in me died when I realized that I didn’t have my phone. I must have left the phone outside my parent’s room in my panic. All the voices in my head telling me to stay in my room were ignored because I needed to go to this party. This was what I was waiting for all those lonely nights and I would get that phone. Fully dressed, I put my ear on my door listening for any signs of movement but I heard nothing so I opened it. I peeked out the doorway and everything looked normal so I left the room with slow steps ready to retreat back inside at a moment’s notice. In the hallway I saw my phone in front of my parent’s room and the light was blinking telling me that I had a message. I was halfway to my phone when I heard my door slam shut. My mission wasn’t done yet so I ran for my phone instead of running back to my room. Darkness started to enshroud me with the phone in my hand but I kept moving, sprinting to my room. I slammed against my door as I tried to open it but no amount of force would make it budge. This time the laughter I heard was not that of children but a deep raspy one as I kept pounding on the door. With each passing moment that I stood outside my locked door I saw my house being enveloped by a wall of black. I reached around my neck for the cross but I took it off when I changed clothes and didn’t put it back on. The darkness was close to me now so I abandoned my post at my door and ran into the adjacent bathroom. I turned the lights on and locked the door behind me, and waited against the door for whatever was coming for me. Nothing slammed against the door this time though and it seemed like nothing would so I took a seat on the nearby edge of the bathtub. I dialed the number of my dad’s phone but shifted my attention to the movement that I saw from the corner of my eye. My head shot to the reflection in the mirror but what was staring back at me was not me. The copy of me smiled back at me with pitch black eyes as four light bulbs that lined the top of my mirror burnt out one by one. I fell back into the bathtub before the last light went out and closed the shower curtain to put something in between us. The last light bulb went out and I heard the steps of someone on the tile floor. I turned on the flashlight of my phone as the black hand was reaching through the shower curtain. My flashlight went out when the hand touched me and my body went numb from the cold touch. The hand moved up my body to my neck and my chest tightened until I couldn’t breathe anymore. I could hear my dad on the phone asking for me but I couldn’t speak and the phone cut off. My thoughts become hazy and I no longer had any control over my body. I was in complete darkness with exception for his black eyes that were shining as they stared into mine and then my mind went black. I was awoken by the violent shakes and shouts of my parents when they found me in the bathtub passed out. “What happened?” they asked me. “I must have slipped and hit my head.” I said relived to see their faces. “Are you alright?” “I’m fine,” I said as I hugged them tight and they gave me a suspicious look. They left the bathroom and my body stopped to look in the mirror. I made sure that every movement I made was my own before I left the bathroom. But as I watched myself walk out of the bathroom I stayed in the same place. At the doorway of the bathroom my body looked back at me and smiled with the same pitch black eyes. I yelled for my parents but no sound was being made and I tried to go after him but I was stopped by an invisible wall. My fists pounded against that translucent wall in anger and fear but I couldn’t break through. I turned around to see a vast nothingness filled with others like me that were shouting and fighting but made no sound. The closest ones to me tried to get my attention but their words didn’t reach me. I slumped down with my back against the wall defeated and accepting my new solitude. A girl my age next to me mouthed the words, “Help me,” as tears rolled down her face but there was nothing I could do. I was one of them. These would be my friends now.


John gazed out of the kitchen window in a fantastical trance. The world outside this window was a carefully crafted fantasy. The garden was overgrown now, but still it described a form of order that he could not exert on the aspects of his life that really counted. Life was wayward and chaotic. It presented a pretence of order for a while, and then it would unravel however a person reacted to the undoing of all their efforts. This John knew, was a death of sorts. A harsh end that handed him an opportunity to begin again. The assault course through to the beginning would build his strength so that he was equal to the challenge of the next phase of his life. He breathed a sigh that wracked his body with sadness. He hurt in ways that were unfamiliar, even though he had been here before. The body’s memory was necessarily fickle. The body only lived in the present moment. No past and no future. John was all too aware of the animal he was, and right now, that animal was wounded and maddened with the pain of wounds it did not see coming. He wanted to fight, but he neither had anything to fight against or for. There was no point in fighting for himself. He’d done that already and inflicted losses upon himself in the mistaken belief that he could win a battle that only he had attended. A single word formed itself within him. Time. This concept weighed heavily upon him. He felt old and maybe he was. There was none of the youthful exuberance left for him. This was the last, downhill stretch of his life and the fork in the path had been hidden from him, so that by the time he realised Vicky had taken it, it was far, far too late. There was no going back. Time made life flow in one direction and one direction only. Or so it was said. John wasn’t so sure about that. He’d experienced all of time’s tricks and been assailed by its wanton use of him. Time was a label slapped upon one of the many faces of chaos and John was too scared to remove that label and peer at what lay beyond. Looking down at the turgid washing up water he experienced a slip in his reality. The dirty dishes had been spirited away to the drainer, but he had no sense of how that had happened. He was here, but he was not present. He almost did not bother upending the washing bowl, but the dirty water offended him sufficiently to provoke a reaction. The action performed, he left the bowl asunder. A simple act of defiance that reminded him of the expanse of hurt that lay beneath him and would not allow him to relax or to sleep. This hurt was not his own. He had been gifted the pain by another. By others. A terrible pass-the-parcel. The music had stopped and here he was. His inner teenager had awoken then. He’d kicked against John’s raw and bleeding side and raged at the unfairness of it all. This is not my fault. And it genuinely wasn’t. For once in John’s life, he had not fucked up. Oh, there were lessons to be learnt. The presence of the pain told John that. But the teenager was right. This wasn’t his fault and it just was not fair. John had wallowed in that unfairness for some while. He lay there in that poisoned cocoon for far too long. The drug that seeped into him was soporific. He bathed in the lie of it. He pretended that someone would see how unfair his plight was and come and rescue him. That someone was an idealised Vicky. She would find her way back to him and make everything alright again. Only she could do this. He waited. Time punished him for his foolishness and amplified his pain. That pain pinned him in his prone and pathetic position and mocked him. He was ashamed of who he’d become. He was ashamed of how he had gotten here. He wanted to die, but didn’t have the honest strength to deliver that mercy. He was getting what he deserved and a dark part of him relished the self-pity he drank in gluttonously. As he crawled away from that place, he worried away at questions that he could not yet answer. But he did it all the same. There was a utility in this. The words he found were stilted and fell short, but they paved the way for him to live the answers that were required. He was at last doing something that was needed. And yet he dare not look up and face the enormity of his now lonely existence. He did not have the courage to face the world, let alone step out into it as himself. Instead, he put on a face and called it brave in the frozen state that it presented. This was not him. He did not know who that was. Not yet he didn’t. He tried not to think about whether he’d ever known who he was. Better to consider his former self as dead and buried. That John was no longer with us. The new one would emerge from its chrysalis state in due course. Thoughts of his history began to emerge from the depths of his grief. He must learn from history in order not to repeat the patterns of the past. All of this was necessary. He was moving forward at last. He repeated mantra after mantra to encourage the eggshell thin positive state that he needed in order to do the work on the other side. All the same, this Saturday dragged him along the cheese grater of his pain in a protracted and disinterested manner. The weekends were the worst. The weekends were where the Hole resided. In the week, he could grab a hold of routine and throw himself at work. His beleaguered body was familiar with this and it relished going through the motions. He found that other tasks came easily in the evenings. He shopped. He cleaned. He paid his bills. Sometimes he even slept through. Mostly sleep played with him in a bed that had grown too big and cold for him. He lay there begging for the caress of slumber and when it eventually came, it tossed him and turned him until he was good and ready for the witching hour. Every morning at 3am he was smashed awake with an accusatory thought that had turned up mob handed. He tried to reason with the crowd, but it was too big and he was weak and tired. If he slept after that, he did not remember. All there was as his alarm went off was nausea and fatigue. Another joke at his expense. The feeling that he could now sleep. The desire to sleepwalk through the day. But the day was too jagged and cruel to allow him that comfort. There was relief in the face that was reflected in his watch face. The afternoon was here at last. The moment of weakness could now be indulged. One of his guilty pleasures. He was after all at a never ending wake. Crouching, his knees fired off warning shots that he did not heed. He opened the cupboard door to reveal a depleted stock of spirits. Previous visits were a matter of retrieving the bottle of single malt and bringing it together in a union with a tumbler that he would then celebrate twice over. This time, he paused at the door and looked inside the cupboard. His initial motive might have been a guilty stock take. Taking stock of his weekend drinking and the need to replenish a cupboard that had been teeming with bottles before Vicky had left. Provisions for the eventuality of her sudden and brutal exit from his life. That may have been how it started, but then time wove one of its spells and he was drawn to a dusty bottle in the deepest corner of the cupboard. As his eyes fell upon the bottle, he was restored to a point that had occurred over a decade ago. This bottle was, he knew, a time capsule. Shuffling the nearest bottles aside, he took the older bottle and remembering himself, also brought along the half full whisky bottle for the ride. Withdrawing to the relative comfort of the sofa, John poured himself a generous quantity of whisky and sipped at it as he commenced a staring contest with the dusty bottle. He knew the old bottle would win, but he could not rush this. The contents of that bottle had aged sufficiently and they were to be savoured. As he sat there taking repeated sips of his whisky, he considered the first question the bottle presented to him. If he could turn back time, would he do things differently? His stock answer was no, he would not. He was who he was right now because of all that had occurred in his life. His was a life without regret. That was what his mind said. His broken heart disagreed, and he could move no further forward on this. In asking this question, the bottle reminded him that it was his time machine. He cast his mind back to its creation and smiled wryly. Time may weave magic, but this was a magic of his own and now he would at last uncover the secrets that he had woven into the magic of this bottle. Leaning forwards he almost plucked up the bottle. But his tumbler was now empty and so he attended to this first. He imbibed some of the amber blood and said a self-serving prayer. This was his moment and there was nothing else to it. The world could go fuck itself right now. It had taken enough of him and he needed this. He realised he needed it more than anything. For the first time in an age he felt a warmth that went beyond the whisky. He was feeling the flame of hope within his heart and now he smiled that hope into the room around him. Another, generous sip from his tumbler and he was up and away to the door that connected to the garage. He found a large rag, selected a hammer and wrapping the bottle up in a shroud he readied himself to smash the bottle open. He paused before this violent and sacrilegious act. He’d not even tried to retrieve the contents from the bottle. But then he nodded. Smashing the bottle was right. Symbolic of the destruction of his life. Another end to herald a bright new beginning. Still he paused. This was not him. He was a giver and a fixer. He was not prone to the breaking of things. This was wilful. He felt as though he was in danger of becoming the sort of thing that threw fast food wrappers from the window of a car when the easier and better option was to use a bin when the car stopped. This was a line he did not want to cross, because lines and boundaries and values were all that kept him and his life intact. Without defining a safe and good place for himself, he would have lost everything and had precious little prospect of becoming the man he saw glimpses of as his pain subsided. In the pulses of it’s terrible heartbeat he was seeing an outline of himself up ahead and he wanted to fill that space. With a force of will and an impetuous burst of energy he brought the hammer down and was rewarded with the song of breaking glass. He stood for a while and savoured that song. Just beyond reach were lyrics of joy. He fancied he’d hear them one day soon. These were promises of better days ahead and reminders that all things will pass, however we choose to label them, for often a thing is neither bad nor good. It just is. We sully it with unwarranted decoration so we can dabble around the edges of a life instead of living it. Carefully, he unfurled the rag and glass fell in a pile to the side of a beige mottled envelope. He gingerly pincered thumb and forefinger in order to life the envelope free and despite his deliberate actions an invisible shard of glass pierced the pad of his finger. Undeterred, he took the envelope back to the sofa. Once there, he pressed the wounded fingertip to the envelope and left it there whilst he drank more of his whisky. Satisfied that he had paid his blood price. He examined the envelope itself and the fingerprint of blood. Taking his time. Delaying the moment of truth. A truth that existed ten years ago and would be revealed to him now. Closing his eyes, he sought something of the contents of the envelope, but all he found were the circumstances of its coming into being. The pain of another life and the solace he had sought in the bottom of the bottle. He sensed the presence of that second tumbler and was satisfied that he had not fallen so low this time. He would drink a second tumbler, but no more. The altered state that he had attempted to hide in all those years ago was for another man. A different version of the person that now sat here. That was some of why the bottle had come into being. Another end that promised a beginning where a stronger John could be more. More himself. More honest. He felt the contents of the envelope calling to him and he shed a tear. There was a desperate honesty here. A love letter to his future self. Well he was here now and he was about to commune with his other self. He carefully opened the envelope. A counter to the previous violence exacted upon the bottle. This now was a loving ritual towards a religious relic. The gum of the envelope yielded and now he slipped his finger into the envelope and withdrew the letter. His hand trembled as he held the pages before him. His eyes swam with invisible tears and his mind roiled with waves of possibilities. He could stop right now. He didn’t need to do this. The presence of a reluctant fear intrigued him. Suppressed memories resonating with the imminent future. A warning not to bring two timelines together. A deceitful scream of denial against the truth about to be revealed. Now it wasn’t just his hand that was trembling. His body thrummed with the inevitability of what was going to happen. This was a shocking paradox of two versions of himself meeting. The words could not be denied though and before he understood what was happening, they were tumbling through his eyes and into his heart. Filling it in a way he did not know was possible. The love he felt for the broken man who had had the courage to open himself to the world and express his inner truth almost overwhelmed him, but he fought to keep himself together and ride through to the very end. He owed this to the man who had done this for him. And as he at last opened himself up in order to contain these words, he understood. He understood that these words came from a past that went far beyond ten years ago. This was the truth of the ages. His parents had contained this truth. He should have honoured them far more. He should have listened with every fibre of his being. He should have asked them to talk to him about all the things that mattered so that they mattered to him as much as they always should. As the words continued to come alive and speak to him, he saw along a path that was not only the past, but also the future. Everyone who had gone before him and played a part in his creation. His being, a culmination of the hopes, dreams and love of so, so many people. The truth blossomed around him and he felt his roots in it. He felt it deeply. In one moment, he was an insignificant spec in the endless universe, and yet in the next, he was everything. His connection. His place in the universe should have unhinged him, but instead it enlivened and humbled him. This letter from his past self, and all the past selves that coalesced in this moment, spoke to John of the consequences of his actions. He’d dreaded the warning that he’d expected to be contained in these few pages of hand scribbled sentences. He’d feared the prospect of coming full circle to the same desperate state as his past self had been in ten years ago, but instead he’d been freed of his misery and pain by the truth of the words and the infinite expanse of love that was a part of his creation and a part of him. These pages contained the lesson he must learn. The lesson that his pain was bringing to him. His past self had gifted him this elevation from the pain, and now he saw what he must do. John smiled as he returned the letter to the envelope. He was still smiling as he raised his glass to all those versions of himself who had been, and those who were to be, and he promised them all that he would live well and that he would embody the truth of them all. That was the day that John really started living.


Maddy scrolled through the Life Choice Review templates on her tablet. She nodded her head and peered over at at the old man as she did. Jerry O’Neil was his name. He looked relaxed, sitting back in his navy cardigan over a white polo. His khakis were pressed, his loafers buffed. ‘A classic look’, she thought. The man’s eyes were a piercing blue and were alert despite his age. What looked to be blonde locks had long given way to grays and an inevitable, yet forgiving, receding hairline. Jerry cleared his throat and peered around the room. B-13, like all rooms at Life Cast, was clean, maybe even sterile, but comfortable. The lighting wasn’t too offensive and the AC was set to an ideal temperature. Also, like all rooms at Life Cast, it was sparsely accommodated, with just the two chairs they were sitting on, placed across from each other, and a white table against the wall with a healthy Mass Cane sitting atop it. Crimson wall-to-wall carpeting finished off the spartan look. “Okaaaay, shall we begin, Jerry?” Maddy said. “Oh, ya, let’s get going.” Jerry remembered her, Maddy, the petite thing with caramel-colored skin and wavy dark hair. He even vaguely recalled the two-piece: red blazer and black skirt. 'Professional look,' he thought. She was tinier than he remembered though. “Wonderful. Let's do it,” she said. The young lady peered up at the ceiling. “Recording,” she uttered, and a pleasant ding chimed in the room. She smiled at Jerry. “Today’s date is August 4th, 2229. This is Madeline Bel with a Life Choice Review statement for patient 1X-L38.4. We are at site twelve, office B-13... Ok, Jerry,” she said, nodding to him, “let’s start with the boring stuff.” Jerry returned the head gesture. “Name?” “Jerrold Alexander O’Neil.” “Date of Birth?” “June 27, 2132.” “Date of death? Oh, wait,” she said, looking down at her tablet, “ I see it here. You asked for that to be an unknown, is that right?” She smiled. “Ya,” Jerry said. “I like surprises.” “Uh-huh, good. Place of birth?” “Sandusky, Ohio.” “Parents, mother’s maiden please.” “Sure. That’s Michael O’Neil and Geraldine Spencer.” “Wonderful.” Maddy looked down at her tablet. The lights there were whizzing and blinking. “Good, now, that we have that, let’s go over your input form.” she said, crossing her legs. “What are we going to talk about today?” She tapped on a few digital buttons across her screen. “Oh, I see it here. Lenore Avery O’Neil, née Grace.” Maddy made a frowny face. “Things didn’t work out, huh?” “Yea, no, umm... I mean, we were married for decades. She’s a good person,” he said, shrugging with a smirk. “Yes, of course,” Maddy said, nodding her head slowly. “But, yea that probably wasn’t one of my better choices.” “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Maddy said. “But you were married fifty-eight years and raised four children together, umm, let’s see... Ronnie, Bobbi, Ricky and Mike? And there are a slew of grand kids in the picture.“ Jerry looked down at his loafers as he ran their soles back and forth against the red, commercial-grade carpeting. “Yea, well, she just, I don’t know, I think I wanted someone... different.” “I see.” “Okay, well, lets run the metrics on her, so I’m clear on what we’re looking for.” “Sounds swell," Jerry said. He felt good. Now that he was sitting there, reviewing things at Life Cast, a weight lifted. Jerry could see that he had been looking forward to this day for a while, maybe years, maybe even decades. Maddy danced her hands on her handheld computer and a screen made of holograms and lights appeared mid-air between them, just off to the side. Jerry turned in his chair and oggled the information in the blips and bleeps of the floating screen. “Ohhh-kay. So, for communication, you gave her a 42.” Jerry was nodding his head. “That’s not so good,” Maddy stated. “No, she broke down and cried any time we talked about anything difficult.” “Like what?” “Financial problems, lack of communication ... infidelities.” “I’m sorry?” “Yes, well, I was out of work for a spell and --.” “No, the other bit.” “Oh yea.” He flashed a dismissive smirk as he waved a hand. “We both had trouble staying in the marriage, and we had flings. It was nothing serious.” “She wasn’t hurt by that?” “Yes, I mean, she broke down whenever we’d talked about it, but she got over it.” “I see." Maddy clicked her tongue as she mulled something over in her mind. "Is the infidelity reflected in the sexual compatibility score?” “Yes, I believe so.” “Good, we do like comprehensive numbers here at Life Cast.” She hoisted a smile to her face. Jerry grinned back. “Okay, so poor communication,” she continued, her fingers bouncing along her tablet. “Anything else you’d like to add?” “Ya. She’d spend weekends just staring out the window not talking to a soul. Not even the kids. It was miserable.” “I see. So, someone more outgoing and not so down in the dumps,” she tapped on the tablet. She shot Jerry a grin. Jerry blinked sheepishly. “Right. Moving along. Fin- an -cials.” Maddy leaned in, resting her elbow on her leg, and her chin in her hand. “Well, I handled the money in the house,” Jerry said, adjusting his cardigan. “But she was good with the budget I would set.” “Yes, I see you gave her a 73. High marks,” Maddy said, arching her eyebrows. “Yea. I mean, she wasn’t a spendthrift, thank god. At least she got that right. She took care of the groceries and ran the house within our means. That was... that was nice, actually,” Jerry said, furrowing his brows. He looked down at his lap, lost in thought. He remained like this for a few moments. Finally, he inhaled sharply and peered up at Maddy with a blameless look. “Are you, ok?” “Yea, fine," he said, with a frivolous wave of a hand. “Okay... so, moving on, moving on... oooo yea, sorry, Jerry, but I have to ask. Any abuse of alcohol or illicit drugs?” “No, no. I mean, when she was going through her bouts of staring out the window, yea, she was into the bottle a bit. But, I mean, so was I, right? I mean I’d be kidding if I said differently. So, no I don’t think it was unusual, if that what’s your asking.” “Oh, no. We just like to track anything that might be at the root of any disfunction or lack of connection.” She tapped a button. "I see," Jerry said, then cleared his throat. “Right, so, the bedrooooom. Oo la la, sexual compatibility, intimacy. The old in-n-out.” Maddy held her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know where my head is. That was completely unprofessional.” Jerry was laughing. “It’s ok. I can use a little 'unprofessional' after a lifetime in the accounting department at Qraps Products Incorporated, I'll tell ya.” “I’m soooo sorry. Go ahead, Jerry. The floor... is yours,” Maddy said, waving her hand at the rug. “Ah, yea, ok, Lenore was, uh, hot and cold. Sometimes she was fun, you know sexy. We could go out and have a good time, enjoy a few drinks, do some dancing and... well, she’d be gangbusters in the bed room after a cocktail or two. She’d... oh I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Jerry chuckled, “I’m getting carried away.” “No, this is what we’re here for, I want all of it.” “Oh, okay... well, she’d give me all of it.” He chuckled. “Yea, she’d give me everything . She’d leave my toes so curled up, I couldn’t breath. Ya know what I mean?” Maddy was busy typing away on her screen. She looked up just long enough to simper at Jerry. “So, good in bed?” “Yea, sometimes. Other times, it was like being in bed with a nun. Just, nothing there, no romance, no sizzle, nothing. And I worked hard, Maddy.” Maddy nodded her head in agreement. “And sometimes when I came home, I dont, know, a man has needs... a man has needs, Maddy.” She began typing. “A... man... has... needs.” “I don’t know. I hope I’m not making it sound like it’s all about me.” “Not at all.” Maddy shook her head. “But this is my Life Choice Review, right?” “That it is, sir. “And nobody’s gonna get hurt, right?” “Use this opportunity wisely. It’s what you paid for.” She beamed at him. Jerry smiled a small corner-of-the mouth smile at her. He couldn’t make it a full smile because he couldn’t shake this feeling inside. He wasn't sure what it was, but if he had to name it, he’d call it guilt. But it was faint. Like the sound of someone tapping on a metal pipe a mile away. “Well, I think we got what we need, Jerry." "Wonderful." "Before we run the numbers can I interest you in a half-off deal on a second Life Choice Review we’re running this month?” “Thanks, Maddy, but I’m gonna stick to my budget.” “You sure? I don’t know, Jerry, maybe you can strike oil, you know, find that million dollar pot at the end of the rainbow?" She slapped his knee with a grin. “You never know??” “That’s alright.” “OK.” She frowned. “Then, why don’t we let old SPANKO here crunch the old digits for us!” Maddy said gesturing with two hands to the screen. “Swell-ee-o,” Jerry said, leaning forward in his seat. He couldn’t wait for what SPANKO came up with. “SPANKO! Drum roll please!” The numbers on the hovering screen blipped and bleeped in a random and rapid manner. After a whirlwind of digital activity, and analyzing the infinite possibilities of two random souls on earth meeting and hitting it off, SPANKO, the error-less AI personality, spit a face up on the screen. It was an attractive middle-aged woman. She had sandy-brown skin and large hazel eyes. There was a sparkle in them that Jerry liked right away. Her curly brown hair had blonde streaks in it and was pulled back behind her ears. The name beneath it read ISADORE BELLINGHAM. “Isadore Bellingham,” Maddy said. “Okay. Says here she’s a regional sales manager at Cleveland’s Blandus Corp, loves drinking cocktails and salsa dancing, has a sizable 401k plan and... she's a freak in sheets," she said, side-eyeing him. "Should we do it?" A swarm of butterflies fluttered in Jerry’s belly. He nodded his head feverishly. "Great!" Maddy diddly-doo’d the buttons on her screen. “Alriiiight... done, and, done.” She chuckled, and waved her chestnut locks. “Well, I want to thank you, Jerry, for your candor and for choosing Life Cast.” She shook his hand. “It was my pleasure, Maddy.” She made some kind of noise that approximated a sound of appreciation, but it was hard to tell. Maddy got up, and exited the room. She walked to the elevator, casually greeting people as she walked by. When the elevator came, she took the car down to “SUB-4”. That needed a palm-ID. The elevator doors chimed and slid apart at the fourth sub-basement, and Maddy shuffled down the long corridor lined with armed security. She ducked left into a room that was marked “RESTRICTED PERSONNEL ONLY - RECYCLE AREA”. She waited just inside the doorway where the area’s security sensors buzzed and ding’d, registering her face, retina and heartbeat. The doors hissed opened and Maddy ambled into a large, well-lit room. Women and men wore hazmat suits and stood across from her behind long desks littered with buttons, blinking lights and screens. She lingered on a glowing, red, circular tile for a few moments until they gave her the thumbs up. Maddy waved back. She walked to the center of the room where a silvery, bubbling mass the size of a door hovered inches from the ground. It hummed softly as she approached it. She could feel it already pulling at her skin. Maddy held her breath. She always closed her eyes when she walked through this thing, because, goddamit, it was all scary and weird enough, wasn’t it? She stepped into the shimmering, quivering mass, then disappeared. Immediately, the pushing-and-pulling on her body made her queasy. Her fingers and toes tingled and she got light-headed. The queasiness began rumbling, intensifying towards a sloppy boil. Maddy had absolutely no clue what went on in there, and she didn't want to know. She kept her eyes closed as tight as a pickle jar. Maddy waited for her feet to hit the solidity of the floor again, and when they did, she hopped right out. She took a deep breath and straightened out her skirt. The people behind the desk in hazmat suits waved. Maddy nodded back with a smirk, then bee-lined it for the door. She shuddered involuntarily from the whole experience, as she always did. She could never get used to it. It was all so icky. But it was hard to say no to a condo in LA and a beach house in Nantucket, and all the other big and little things her paycheck provided. She wound her way from the basement up to room B-13, where she opened the door. “Heyyyy!” she said to the handsome young man waiting for her. She ran her caramel hand along his shoulders as she walked by. The young man had sandy-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. “So, I’m back!" she said. "And have I got good news!” “Really? Swell-ee-o," he said. She sat down in the empty seat across from him and crossed her athletic brown legs. His eyes were like big O's as he shifted to the edge of his seat. “Before we continue, can I interest you in a half-off deal on a second Life Choice Review we’re running this month?” “Oh, nah, this one Life Choice Review is stretching me as it is," he said, nodding his head slightly. "Wait, did I want one? I mean the other me? “No, he, I mean, you... you know what I mean, declined as well.” She frowned. “Oh, ok, he’d probably know best.” “Mmm-hmm. Okay so, looky here, looky here.” A holographic screen trickled down in mid-air between them, just off to the side. “I have Isadore Bellingham for you. Isn’t she just gorgeous,” she said, wrinkling her nose at him. Jerry’s face scrunched up. “She looks a little old for me.” “She is old for you, Jerry. You meet her in your forties. At a Blandus Corp mixer/salsa party. She --." Maddy paused, collecting her thoughts. “Your older self said that... well, we don’t need to name names here, but he said that the special someone you end up choosing wasn’t so special after all. That was the one thing he wanted to change.” Jerry nodded. “And SPANKO came up with this belle.” She slapped the young man on his knee. “She’s perfect for you. Now, we’ve charted out a course for you right here.” The display fuzzed out then fuzzed back in with a flow chart, complete with graphs, charts and lots of squiggly arrows. “So, if you go to school for computer science instead of accounting, that will put you at this firm in six years. And after you quit that firm and move in with Denise here, you’ll land at Taedios LTD. You guys get married, but she’s barren, so no kids. You do love her,” she sighed and put her hand to her chest, “but you just can’t go through life without kids, so you get divorced, switch jobs, and end up at Blandus. And that’s where you meet Isadore.” Jerry swallowed hard. His brows were furrowed and the young man was white as a ghost. He finally exhaled a breath he’d been holding in since the word “SPANKO”. “Do you like computer science?” Maddy asked. “No, actually I don’t.” “We have an app for that, Jerry, don’t you worry.”