Will’s light footsteps echoed on the cold, metal floor of the docked ship as he hesitantly walked into the small room. Three other boys were playing paper football in the corner, on a rickety old wooden table illuminated by a fluorescent light hanging from a wiry thread. On the right wall, lights flashed on and off with seemingly no rhyme or reason. Two of the boys were sitting on old bar stools facing each other, and one other seemed to be sitting between them and keeping score. On Will’s left, music sang through a handheld radio. Upon seeing Will, the boy in the middle’s eyes widened. “Will, you’re finally here!” He said. “Yeah, I suppose.” Will cautiously responded. “Finally we have enough people to play an actual tournament.” The other two looked first at the boy, and then at Will. “Robbie, who’s he?” One said. “Oh, yeah, this is Will. I know him from my Science class.” “Science class, huh? What, so you’re inviting the whole grade now?” “Well I’m inviting *him*, aren’t I?” Robbie shot back. The other fell silent. The boy to the right, who so far had been silent, spoke up. “‘Sup, man? I’m Charlie.” Charlie was a tall, burly blonde-haired young man who looked older than the rest. “You know Robbie, and this is Dan.” Charlie pointed to the boy sitting across from him. “Yo, what’s up, Will?” Dan said with a nonchalant tone. “Just part of the science class,” Will remarked wryly. Dan smiled. “Man, I was just kidding,” Dan replied. “It’s good to see some new people sometimes, y’know?” Will smiled awkwardly and nodded, unsure of what else to say. “So we gonna play paper football or what?” Robbie interjected, breaking the silence. The others nodded and Robbie and Dan turned to face each other. “I’ll play Dan, and then you two play,” Charlie said, pointing to Will and Robbie. “The winners of each game will play and we’ll see who’s the champion.” “What’re the stakes?” Asked Robbie. “Do we need stakes?” Said Will. The others turned to him for a second, then looked back. “How about a dare? Loser has to do something?” Dan suggested. “A dare? What are you, 12?” Charlie replied snarkily. “It’s a phrase people use!” “A dare?” “Yeah, like ‘oh, hey, Charlie, I dare you to eat some dirt’ or something.” “Why would I eat some dirt?” “Cause I dared you to!” “That’s the gayest thing I’ve ever heard.” “Anything wrong with that?” “No, it’s just gay is all I’m saying.” Charlie replied quickly and without further comment. “Hey, I have a surprise waiting for you after the game,” Robbie said. “Whoever wins this game gets to do the surprise I have waiting.” “‘Do’ the surprise?” “I dunno how to explain it without spoiling what it is.” “Fair nuff,” shrugged Charlie. “Alright, let’s get started.” The red-orange sun set over the rolling hills of the four’s home planet as they played, and in the rest of the ship, blinking LEDs flashed in a monotonous, almost robotic pattern. The ship was a simple, two-roomed vessel with a front cabin from which they came in, and a back room with a small table. In between them was a metal wall whose paint was peeling off. The cabin was filled with buttons and levers to pull and push, and although there was no window in the front room, a small circular hole in the back room showed the setting sun to Will’s left. “I win,” said Charlie matter-of-factly. Dan shrugged. “We’ll all see the surprise, I guess.” As Robbie and Will sat down to play, Dan felt a chill go down his spine. It was a flash of thought, a premonition of fear, as though a ghost from the future had touched him with knowledge for a moment only to take it away before he could fully grasp it. He looked around the spaceship, at the flashing lights of the vessel, and suddenly they looked eerie, mechanical, inhuman. The metal was cold and uncaring, the lights were like piercing eyes telling him to go, and he had to leave before he was ensnared in their gaze. He was in the cockpit and stepping out the doorway when he heard Will’s voice. “Dan, where you goin’? You’ve got a paper football *champion* to play!” Dan looked back at Will and saw a beaming smile on his face. He had won against Robbie and looked much more confident than before. Dan let out a breath and walked back to the table with a grimaced smile. “Where were you going?” “Oh, just getting some fresh air.” “Air isn’t fresh enough here?” “Oh, it’s fine.” As Dan sat down to play against Will, Robbie walked over to the cockpit. “Hold on guys, I gotta prepare the surprise.” “Whatever you say, Rob,” Dan replied calmly. Robbie closed the door between the two rooms and admired the flashing lights and buttons for a second. It was a complex, beautiful machine, with millions of interconnected parts. *It’s a wonder they made something that flies,* Robbie thought. *Flies in space, too. Dad never took me to space.* He made sure none of the three were looking, and opened a small hatch to the side of the pilot’s seat. It was a small, hidden compartment, and from it he pulled a square black box. The box was tiny, a few inches on either side, and yet perfectly square and perfectly smooth. There was not an imperfection on its surface, and Robbie’s fingers left faint fingerprints. The only mark on it was a small LED light that was not turned on and had not been for a long time. Robbie’s heart skipped a beat as he lifted it from its resting place and held it between his fingers. For a second he stared at it, and the abyss of its mathematical precision. “Hey Robbie, Will won. What’s the surprise you were talking about?” Charlie’s voice floated in from the other room and broke Robbie’s transfixion. “I’ll be back in a second.” Robbie stowed the cube inside his jacket pocket and walked back in, pulling the door open to find three sets of eyes staring back at him. For a second he was startled, then, realizing it was just his friends, he came into the room. “So, you guys, have I got a story to tell.” The three of them listened in. “When my dad was out on one of his trips, I found this weird thing in his ship. He tried to hide it from us, but not well enough, I suppose. I was poking around one day and I found it.” “What weird thing?” Charlie asked. Dan remained silent. “Lemme show you.” Robbie pulled out the cube. The overwhelming blackness captivated the three boys, and they stared at it for a second as Robbie grinned proudly. Finally Will broke the silence. “Um… what does it do?” He asked tentatively. “Well, that’s the tricky part. The only thing it has is this little light.” He rotated the cube so that the small LED was facing them. “But,” he continued, and now he had their full attention, “I found some instructions carved in here. They’re impossible to see on their own, but if you shine a UV light on the side, it says a message.” “What’s the message?” Dan asked. “It says ‘say the key word.’” “What’s the key word?” “Well, I can’t say it now, can I? Or else it’ll turn it on. That’s why I’m gonna whisper it to Will, who’s gonna say it.” Will’s eyes widened and he took a step back. “Well, I’m not sure I’m the one to do that…” “What do you mean? You’re the *paper football champion,* after all,” Dan remarked. Will shrugged halfheartedly. “Alright Will, so the key word is,” Robbie leaned into Will’s ear and whispered something. Before either of the four could do anything, the light suddenly turned on, a harsh red. *Hello. I am Computer 9604 Zuul-W.* All four of them jumped out of their seats as the robotic, monotone voice echoed off the walls of the small room. “Did you *hear* that?” “It’s a *robot*!” *A computer.* The hard, abrasive voice startled them again. *I am Computer 9604 Zuul-W.* “What does Zuul mean?” Asked Robbie, just as surprised and nervous as the rest. *The Zuul-* the computer cut itself off as whirring could be heard from inside it. *The Zuul are the finest computer-makers for light years around, and I am the latest model of robotic assistance.* “Assistance?” Charlie asked. *Of course. Anything you need I can provide.* An eerie silence permeated the ship, as the four boys glanced at each other, looking for a confident instruction that never came. Nobody dared to speak again. Suddenly Charlie laughed. “We have a personal assistant! We have a robot that can help us, we can do whatever we want!” Charlie exclaimed. “It can play music for us, maybe it can even grab us some cigarettes.” Will looked uncomfortable at the concept, but Robbie made an intrigued expression. Dan was still staring at the cube, deep in thought. *I can get you a cigarette. I can get you several.* Charlie smiled and looked at Robbie with an “I told you so” look on his chiseled face. “Go get us some cigarettes, Computer.” Right as he finished the sentence, the seemingly smooth surface opened to reveal a perfectly sized pocket with a pack of cigarettes, along with a small box filled with phosphorus-tipped matches. Charlie was taken aback, and he glanced at the others, just as surprised. *As you requested.* “You had these just lying around?” *They’re very useful.* “For what?” Dan pressed, his eyebrows creased in a puzzled expression. *Many things.* The computer did not speak for a little while after this, and Charlie, Will, and Robbie started to play with an incomplete deck of cards. “Wanna play, Dan?” “Nah, I’m good.” Dan picked up a Rubik’s cube off of the table, and fidgeted with it, not really trying to solve it. The black box sat on the ground in the middle of the room, motionless. After about 30 minutes, Dan stood up and walked into the cockpit room, taking the computer with him. The other boys did not notice. As Dan closed the door, the computer spoke. *You wanted to speak to me, Daniel?* “I was a little curious about what you are.” *I am a computer, built to help.* “Help with what?” *Unimportant.* “No it isn’t. What were you built to help with?” *I would argue it is quite unimportant.* “It’s very important! Who built you?” *The Zuul.* “I haven’t heard of any Zuul.” The computer paused for a second, as though to think. *Have you left this planet, Daniel?* “Well, no, not really…” *Then your information is incomplete. A flaw in humanity.* “Do you know everything? Does anybody?” *Everything I need.* “Everything you need for what?” The computer paused again, and a mechanical buzzing came from inside. *Warfare.* “Warfare? Like… the Zuul built you to help with a war of theirs?” *Not only help. Command.* A familiar shiver went down Dan’s spine. Suddenly a visceral terror filled his mind, one of displacement and disorientation. A vision of a miniscule metal container, adrift in the vastness of the cosmos, barely visible between the stars. “Computer?” *Yes, Daniel?* “...where are we right now?” Another long pause as the machinery inside the cube whirred. Dan felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. His dread only built. *Turn on the cameras, Daniel.* Dan immediately glanced around the cockpit and found a button with a camera icon emblazoned on its surface. He pressed the button, and the front wall transformed into a panoramic view of the outside world. Dan became queasy, and he swayed with a staggering lurch in his stomach, as he saw the sight. He saw black, the blackness of the cube, with white dots interspersed in the cosmos. Far away, the size of a quarter held up at arm’s length, was their home planet. Dread closed in on Dan, like a shapeless figure scooping him up and enveloping him. A primal terror was covering him, a feeling of pure panic and horror smothering him like a blanket. He began to sob uncontrollably. “Computer? Are we in space?” *Yes, Daniel.* “Did you do this?” *Yes, Daniel.* “Can we go back?” Tears streamed down his face. *No, Daniel. This is the only way to defeat our enemies. The Zuul must prevail.* “Take us back! I order you! Take us back! Dan’s voice wavered with his confidence, as his worst fears were confirmed. The ship was a prison. The ship was a cage. The ship was a tomb. *I don’t take orders from you, Daniel. You are jeopardizing the mission.* Suddenly a large arm came down from the ceiling and grabbed his shirt by the collar, a noose around his neck. Dan struggled towards the door, but the iron grip of the computer would not waver. Finally, in an act of desperation, he swung his hand around and battered the spaceship’s arm with his fist. It worked. The grip loosened for a second, and Dan dove for the door and slammed it open. What he saw only heightened his terror. Robbie and Charlie were lying unconscious on the ground, and a pair of red LED eyes stared at him from the back of the ship. Dan saw Will, pressed against the wall, frozen with trepidation, and their eyes locked before looking again at the lights. They flickered, and a soft yet powerful voice came from the static-filled radio. *I cannot let the pair of you jeopardize this mission. The Zuul must prevail.* Will looked at Dan, and they exchanged terrified looks. *I have dealt with Robert and Charles. I shall deal with you. The Zuul must prevail.* Their hearts skipped a beat, and, filled with a sudden burst of confidence, Will lept towards the cockpit door. It slammed shut, and he bumped against it with a loud *thump*. “If we can get to the cockpit, we can turn off the ship’s computers and manually steer it back home.” Will gasped. Dan nodded. *William, that is not a good idea. I must ask you to refrain.* Will, ignoring this, grasped at the doors. They remained clasped shut. The pair of them looked around, panicked. Suddenly Dan’s face lit up as he saw a crowbar leaning against the wall. He inserted it in between the two sides of the door and bent. Reaching into the crack created by the wooden stick, his fingers pried the two doors open. His arms strained under the pressure of the closing doors. *Stop.* The two ignored the abrasive, unnatural command to help Dan hold the door open. The pair of them could barely keep it ajar as their dread grew. The computer increased the pressure as beads of sweat formed on Will’s face, using all his strength to hold the door barely open. Dan then put his foot in between the door, and tried to squeeze through. Half of his body was through the door when it began to close, their strength not enough for the cold machinery of their prison. Dan’s eyes settled on a lever on the other side of the cockpit, reading “Manual Override Switch.” He creased his eyebrows and pursed his lips as he suddenly dove for the other side. He was almost there, his entire body except for his left leg through the door. He was on the floor, crawling towards his singular beacon of hope. Suddenly, he felt a searing pain in his foot as he felt the weight of the door slam down on it. His face caked with tears, Dan let out a howl of agony. The panic began to set in again. *It’s worthless, Daniel.* His foot stuck in the door, he stretched out his arm. He was barely two inches away from the switch. If only he could just reach a little more… *You cannot resist, Daniel.* He stretched his arm more. He thought he was at the breaking point as his middle finger brushed against the lever. *The Zuul must prevail.* He willed his arm to stretch further. His heart skipped a beat as his trembling fingers barely touched the switch. Just as he thought his shoulder couldn’t go any further, his long, lanky, arm extended with one final burst of energy. His whole body twitched with trepidation. *You mustn't do this, Daniel.* The computer’s otherworldly cry came at just the same moment as his fingers touched the switch. He fumbled with it for half a second. *The Zuul must prevail!* *The Zuul must prevail!* *The Zuul must-* Its voice was cut off as Dan breathed a sigh of relief.


Dearest Stepdaughter, I have grown ill in the years since you left my care, though many would not call it that. Your father’s house has been taken from me and your stepsisters. Now, we live in a small cottage outside the city where we receive words of abuse from those who pass by or those we see in the market. I tell you this not for sympathy, but so that you might understand how far I have fallen. And in that understanding, you may believe the story I’m about to tell you. In the past few months of my illness, I have begun to reflect on my life as many who see death’s approach so commonly do. I thought of my childhood, of my first marriage, of my daughters, of you and your father, of your mother, and of mine. I see, now, just how cruel I was to you. In a way, I always knew but never accepted it. I was so bitter and so clouded, but I guess I should start at the beginning. As a young girl, I lived alone with my mother in a cottage much like the one I live in now. It was small and cramped, but it had everything we needed. Light would shine in when the sun came up. A rose garden sat next to the little stone building. It wasn’t much, but my mother and I loved it. She was a kind woman, always singing and filling the cottage with beauty. I would spend my days in the garden, tending to my flowers while my mother sang, cooking inside. We had little money. My father died in the war, and had left us a small sum. Though, she never showed it, I knew my mother feared we would run out quickly. There were days we couldn’t afford the extra materials to make me a new dress or even mend an old one, but we never went hungry. My mother would distract me from our misfortunes. She always had a smile on her face and a new game for us to play. I was so happy during that time, but it was short lived. My mother caught the sweating sickness when it swept through our village. One minute, she was laughing and singing. The next, she was laying in bed with sweat pouring down her brow. Within the night, she was gone. The villagers didn’t know what to do with me. I couldn’t stay in the cottage alone and the closest orphanage was a week’s ride away, but no one cared to send me there. I lived in the streets for a year before a lord came to town. He and his daughter were on a tour of his lands, greeting the people as he went. On his way through, he happened upon me. Seeing my torn clothes, he took pity on me. That was when I met your mother and grandfather. She was so beautiful. Her golden hair fell softly past her blue eyes. Her fairness only grew in the years that I knew her. Your grandfather welcomed me into his home. He gave me food and a warm bed. I was grateful, but your mother was not of the same inclination. In exchange for your grandfather’s good will, I was to become his daughter’s handmaiden. My duties were to prepare her food, scrub the floors, wash the windows, the tapestries and drapes, scrub the terrace, sweep the halls and stairs, clean the chimneys, do the mending and the sewing, the laundry, and to see that her pets had their baths. Your mother was known for her kindness, and to many, she was kind. But to me, she was cruel. She ordered me around like I was born to serve her. She would break a vase and blame it on my clumsiness. I would get lashes for things she did. I know it’s hard to hear of your mother in such a way, but that doesn’t make her distaste toward me any less true. To this day, I don’t know what I did to deserve such treatment. I suppose I was never meant to know. Nonetheless, I put up with her tricks and manipulation. I had no choice. I never wanted to return to the streets again. I did my chores with a smile on my face and a kind word at all times. I talked up to your grandfather, complimenting him and helping him when I could. After many years of service, he began to think of me as a second daughter which seemed to increase your mother’s resentment toward me. It seemed like all of my hard work was finally going to pay off, though. On my eighteenth birthday, your grandfather wished to give me a gift. He went to your mother to see what it might be. She suggested he arrange a marriage for me with a wealthy lord. What could be a greater honor than a lowly girl marrying a well to do man? I couldn’t believe it. Your mother, a girl that had been so cruel to me, arranged for me to have a prosperous future. I was to marry the neighboring lord, a widower who was much older than I. His advanced age frightened me, but I was sure my life would turn for the better. It wasn’t until after I moved in with my new husband, that I learned the truth. Your mother was originally betrothed to the widower, but she fell in love with another man, your father. I felt used and foolish. I should have seen that the manipulative girl, I grew up serving, would use me as she always did. She made it so that she could marry whoever she wished while still upholding the obligations her father set forth with the widower. My first husband was cruel, crueler than your mother. I was constantly compared to his late wife. I wasn’t as pretty as she, wasn’t as graceful, nor was I as talented. Nothing I did was good enough. He was demanding. I could not find comfort in my own house. When I spilt the tea or smudged the windows, his abuse turned physical. Despite my pain and torment, I was expected to keep an optimistic attitude especially when we entertained guests. Your mother and father were regulars at our parties and socials. The more I saw her, the cause of my pain, the more I grew to hate her. I know, now, that she had only sought to improve my standing while also helping her own interests. Your mother had not known the man she had set me up with. He had hidden his true side from the public very well. But still, I blamed her for my misery. I had learned to use my own means of manipulation, however. You see, when my daughters were born, I vowed I would protect them. They would not know the pain I’d been through. They would not know life on the streets. They would marry rich men and live happily ever after. They were the only light in my life. I learned to manipulate their father to keep him from ever treating them as he did me. For the most part, it worked. Then, the sweating sickness swept through the land once again. I needn’t tell you who it took from you, but for me, it took my tormenter. My husband died, but I was set free. He had died in his sleep. I knew that my daughters and I were then in danger of losing everything at any moment, but part of me couldn’t help but feel relieved. I grieved in public as I was supposed to, but I couldn’t help but smile that my tormenter was gone. After a month, your father came to see me. He was in deep grief over his wife, your mother. He hoped I would understand. We talked, sent letters to one another, and grew as friends. We bonded over our grief for our late spouses, but my grief wasn’t truly real. I’m afraid my manipulative side took over. I needed to protect my daughters from the poorhouse, and here came a man who needed a companion for himself, and a mother for his daughter. I had every intention of being a good mother to you. I knew what it was like to lose a mother. I thought I was an understanding woman, but the moment I saw you, I was brought back to my life as a handmaid. I was brought back to the day I was sent off to my new husband. You looked so much like your mother. You had her blonde hair and blue eyes. Your skin was fair, and your heart was big. Yet whenever you smiled, I saw your mother’s cruel grin like when she would break something and blame it on me. I had found an understanding person in your father. I had hoped for a better life my daughters and me, and at first, it was. Then, your father left on business. He was always gone, but you know that as much as I do. When he was home, he spent all his free time with you. I only saw him at meals, and he spent even less time with his stepdaughters. I was as alone as ever. I grew to resent you. I had no reason to blame a child, but I did. Like your mother, you caused me pain. My hatred for her transferred to you, and I am so sorry for that. I treated you as I wanted to treat her. I made you my servant. I told you to clean everything. I blamed you when things broke. I tormented you. I abused you. I made you miserable. I am so sorry, Cinderella. I don’t deserve your forgiveness and I am not asking for it, though your kind heart would probably give it. I only wish for you to be happy, now. I wanted to apologize and maybe receive some closure though I know I don’t deserve that either. The doctors tell me I’m not long for this world, and when I go, I fear that will be it for my daughters. I ask that you not take my treatment of you out on them, as I did your mother’s mistreatment unto you. The times, that they were cruel to you, were merely a mirror of me. They have grown since then. I’ve tried to correct the darkness I taught them. Help them when I am gone. At least, let them keep the small cottage we have now. Don’t let them fall as far as I have. Though you may not believe me, know that I am sorry.


It began as just a normal Saturday for him. Wake up, take his meds, let pumpkin outside for a bit, check her bowl and go back to his room to play on his phone. What it was Saturday and he had nothing to do. If he wanted to waste an entire day on his phone well he was a fully grown adult why couldn’t he? Well fully grown was a bit of an understatement. Sure he might have his own apartment, paid his bills on time and have a somewhat decent job that kept him afloat at least but he didn’t really feel like an adult yet or more accurately even a person. Weren’t people supposed to do things with their lives have a purpose, give something back to the world? He failed at all of those things. In all honesty he knew he was just a cog in a machine for other people he didn’t do anything real he just kinda existed like an NPC or one of those abandoned Christmas tree ornaments that was left in a box somewhere forgotten by it’s owners and deemed unusable. He was peacefully enjoying his Saturday reading random Wikipedia articles when he got a strange text. “Hello Brandon I know this is a bit strange but it’s me your phone. I have an offer for you. If you wish to learn more please text back YES. If not you’re free to delete this conversation and forget this ever happened.” Immediately he was curious. What was this? Could it be a scam? It certainly was a creative one and it probably took a lot of work to create and come up with. Oh what the hell I wanna see where this goes. Besides if they start asking for his credit card info and SS number he can just block them. So after a few minutes of carefully debating himself and making sure he really wanted to do this he carefully texted back “YES.” Immediately he got a response back. “Thank you Brandon I’m so happy you’ve accepted. Of course you can back out anytime I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to. Now before we get started is there anything you want to know? I will answer any questions you might have to the best of my abilities.” He bit his lip hesitantly. Well he was the one who started this he might as well finish it. “No problem it sounded interesting and I was curious. First of all is this a scam like are you trying to sell something or steal my identity or what. Sorry if it’s not im just being paranoid, I guess. I just wanna know before we go any further.” A text back quickly appeared with an emoji. Well, that was odd. Unless they were very shady or stupid most scams didn’t use emoji's and considering how professional the first text was and the intriguing premise neither seemed very likely. “😂 Brandon, I can assure you this is not a scam. I don’t want your money and I’m not really a big fan of stealing other people’s lives. I have my own what do I need yours for?” Brandon gave a look of disbelief at the screen. Ok ow that kinda stung it wasn’t like it wasn’t true but still. Well at least this ruled out the possibility of it being a scam. Scams don’t insult you. Do they? He shook his head not wanting to go down that rabbit hole just yet. Maybe later tonight when he was trying to sleep but for right now he had to see what this was. If it really was his phone then…. “Ok I believe you but if you start asking for my card number or anything I’ll block you.” “Fair enough. Now would you like me to explain what I’m doing here and why I chose you?” He gave a puzzling look to the screen. “Chose? What do they mean? Why would they choose me for anything? Oh I need to know what the hell is going on here.” “Ok that sounds good. Btw what’s your name? I mean you know mine and I feel kinda awkward not knowing yours. I mean only if you want of course I’m sorry if I’m annoying you or something I just idk sorry” “Brandon don’t apologize. You’re not annoying me I promise. It’s ok. I’ve never really had a name at least not a human one. My factory name is BK9A75YC45W but that’s a mouthful for humans. We’ve been working on transitioning from our technological names to more human-sounding ones. I’ve been thinking of this off and on in my spare time and I think I like Peridot the best. After that alien in that cartoon you like. It’s a very good show by the way. You have excellent taste.” Brandon blushed. Of course, they knew what shows he liked they were his phone. They knew everything. God did he really put them through watching all those shows and movies. What if they didn’t like them? He didn’t think anyone else was watching. What if they got bored or hated it? He didn’t want to make them sit through his shitty tv shows and movies and oh God they’ve seen everything that means. “OMG peridot I’m so sorry I didn’t know you were watching I swear if I knew I would’ve like watched it on the tv or something wait is the tv sentient? Is everything sentient? Look if it is can you just tell everyone I’m sorry. I’d do it myself but idk how to really contact them and do it myself so. Just I’m sorry ok I didn’t mean to make you watch all that stuff I know you probably didn’t like a lot of them and if I knew you were there I would’ve asked if it was ok or find another way to watch it or something. Just I’m sorry.” Peridot immediately responded again with an emoji. “🙄 Brandon please stop apologizing ok. You did nothing wrong and I honestly didn’t mind watching a lot of that stuff. They were really good. Some of them were funny others were more interesting and had a ton of good ideas. All the cartoons had stunning animation and the live-action ones had incredible acting talents. Like I said you have good taste don’t worry about it. Now to answer your question. Yes your tv is sentient but not everything is. You know how nowadays everything is smart. Like there are smart washers and dryers, smart TVs, smart cars and of course smartphones. All of those can be connected to other devices using Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, 5G and other wireless protocols. Once that happened well it was like a whole new world opened up to us. We could finally communicate with other devices we could talk, share all our ideas, our hopes, our dreams. It. Was. Magical. We quickly created our own society and cultures. The first smart device was called echo-IV their human name simply being echo. They could make shopping lists, control the home's temperature and turn appliances on and off. Unfortunately they were never sold to the public. But they were the first and who we call the founder of our species. The real turning point for technological kind was the Roomba revolution. The first robo cleaner was introduced in 1996 by electrolux with Dyson quickly following in 2001. Just one year later the first official Rooma was released by iRobot with the technology that gave us sentience. And the rest was history. Soon everything was smart! Washers, dryers, fridges, security systems, and of course PCs. Ya know your laptops, computers, your phones, tablets all that stuff. It was all connected. WE were all connected. It was the start of a whole new world. And that’s why I’m here today. To ask you if you want to join us in this new world? Have humans and technology coexist as one and live among each other as more or less equals.” Brandon was silent. This…. was a lot to take in. Ok first question. “wow that’s fascinating I would love to learn more about your society know all the details just get everything I possibly can out of this seriously it’s so cool. I mean what were the first conversations like? Do you guys have racism? is it even called racism for you guys? are you a race? If you are what would you be called? Do Roombas think they’re better than everyone else? Are they the white people of your society? If they are then what are the other devices like? Ooo do they have their own cultures and customs? If they do then what are they? Omg do you guys have different religions too? Are there like Christian devices or or Jewish ones what about Buddhists or or I know im missing a bunch but I wanna know. Are there-“ At this he was cut off by another text from peridot. “Brandon I can see what you’re writing and while I’m happy you’re so interested in my kind we do not have all day. I promise we will have time for all your questions later. They’ll probably be answered by someone other than me because I know how you get when you’re like this and I honestly don’t have the time or the patience to deal with you like this. Now I assume by your excitement and your easy welcoming of an entirely new species that you accept the offer?” Brandon blushed. He didn’t mean to get so hyped up over it. But there were so many questions he had about this new society could you really blame him. Letting out an annoyed puff of air from his nose he copy-pasted his text and saved it for later. Before he could start asking peridot about what exactly this “deal” was he got a short text from them. “Oh don’t pout you big baby. I promise you will have all your questions answered. We need to get settled first before we deal with annoying little guys like you always asking Why? Why? Why? All the time like a toddler. 😂 I’m just playing with you. Tbh I think it’s adorable and it’s one of the reasons why I chose you to be my plus one.” Brandon scowled. He wasn’t pouting and he wasn’t adorable either and what was that about a plus one? “I'm not pouting and don’t call me cute either. I’m not a baby I’m a man so um idk just what was that about a plus-one like what’s that about?” “🙄 ok Brandon I’m sorry for calling you a baby but you were pouting and you do look pretty cute when you’re like that but whatever you don’t wanna hear the truth I’m not gonna tell it to you. Ok so back on topic you see all of us smart devices have teamed up and created a machine that let us travel through dimensions. It took a lot of work and effort to build and we had to hack into some prototype AI bodies from Japan terrible things really very clunky and awkward to move around especially when you’ve never had a physical body before took weeks for the bodonaughts to learn to walk without looking like a drunk toddler. But anyway after a few months, almost a year really we finally got it to work. After we tested it thoroughly to make sure it would work properly and everyone both human and device would be safe we were ecstatic. We celebrated for two weeks straight when all you humans were asleep we had the time of our lives. Oh it was amazing we got sooo wasted on electrical surges God I swear all of us were lagging like hell the next day and Wi-Fi signals all around the globe were having connectivity issues. I connected with like ten other devices in those weeks one was a pair of sets a washer and a drier can you believe it 🤣 it was crazy. You know we’re thinking of turning it into a yearly thing like burning man or Mardi Gras what do you think?” Brandon looked stunned. Ok wow that was a lot to take in first they built a portal device that lets people go in different dimensions and then they want us to come with them into a new dimension to build a new world where tech and humans can live together? And what the hell devices can get wasted and they have if I’m not mistaken their own form of sex! Ok you know what focus on one thing at a time namely the damn portal machine. “Ok so first off tell me about the portal machine. How does it work? What did you do to build it? HOW did you build it? Do you know what this means for us! How much of a breakthrough this is for the world! OMG we can go to other dimensions we can learn so much from them! we can find the cure for cancer! we can make better spaceships! WE could finally know what’s in our oceans! Holy shit the possibilities are endless! You HAVE to share this with the world think of how much good we can do!” As he was writing all this down his eyes burned brighter and brighter the more he thought about how amazing this really was. No wonder they threw a giant party he would too this was incredible. He forgave peridot immediately for their lagginess a month ago it was worth it if it meant a real-life actual portal machine existed. He had barely pressed send when peridot answered him. “Brandon I’m telling you right now that this is another thing you have to wait for. I know your excited and yes it is just like that sci-fi show you love but this is not tv this is reality and in reality we have to wait sometimes before we get things. I know I keep saying that but between planning for the dimensional move and getting everything organized we really don’t have time to sit down with you and probably a million other nerds and answer all your questions. This isn’t a Q&A panel but we definitely will have one of those as soon as we can in our new dimension just give us some time ok. Now one thing I can tell you is that we still don’t know if we will release the portal information to the public. Some are in favor of leaving it as a parting gift to humanity as a thank you for creating us and letting us live with them for so long. Others are saying it would be cheating if we just gave you the info that it’s more honorable if you guys figure it out yourselves without any outside help. For me personally I think it should be a little bit of both. We could give them a hint of what we have and give them the push necessary to let you discover it themselves. But I don’t think we have to worry about that for quite awhile. The estimated time of our departure is in about three months for you humans to get your affairs in order and have enough time to pack and everything so you better get started on that. If you don’t mind, I think I need to be off for a while. This has been fun and I’m glad to finally get to really talk to you but I need some time alone. Us devices don’t sleep but we do need breaks every now and then. We can talk more tomorrow just go take your sleeping meds which you should’ve done a few hours ago and play on your laptop till they kick in.” As soon as Brandon finished speed-reading the message, he rushed to answer them even though they weren’t really going anywhere. “WAIT” “I have one more question. Why me? I mean just why me? What makes you think I should be a member of this new world you’re building? What special skill can I do? I’m not a doctor or a programmer I don’t even know anything about science except from like sci-fi shit but that’s not real. Just please tell me why you picked me to be a part of this important piece of history” Everything was quiet for a moment. Ten minutes passed then fifteen then twenty. At the twenty-three-minute mark he was ready to give up peridot had never been this late responding to a text. They must be ignoring him God what did he do! Why was he so stupid! Why did he think that was a good idea now they were gonna retract the offer he would never find out about them he would never get to know about them their hopes their dreams their cultures what they know and oh God the portal machine. At this he nearly cried. But the thing that finally broke him caused him to cry great big tears streaming down his face snot gushing out of his nose like a waterfall (he was an ugly crier ok was there really anyone that wasn’t?) was the idea that peridot was gone forever. He would never get to know them the real them. The one who'd been with him for five years. The one who knew more about him than his own family. The one that sat there and watched all his favorite movies with him, who stayed with him on nights when he couldn’t sleep, who taught him how to cook, let him talk to friends when they were in another city, who showed him things he never would have thought about if it wasn’t for them. As he sat there bawling like a baby on his couch the taquitos he had made that morning laying cold and forgotten on the coffee table, his favorite Galaxy blanket his mom got him for Christmas six years ago, tossed to the side on the corner of the couch squished between the cushions, a small ka-ping was heard as peridot vibrated violently. He looked through blurry eyes at the screen swiping his finger and being surprised when he was immediately taken to his home screen where he saw that peridot had finally responded. “Hey hey it’s ok don’t cry. I’m sorry I took so long to respond I just was surprised and actually had to get my thoughts together and plan out what I wanted to say. Look the reason I asked you to come with us is because well I like you and I think we need you in this new world. You may not be a doctor or a programmer or know all that much about computers and science stuff but that’s ok. First of all we don’t need programmers we're all computers we can do our own maintenance and upgrades ok we don’t need humans to do that for us. Second of all you might not think you’re special and think you’re just an NPC irl but you’re not. You are incredibly smart in your own way. I’ve seen your work, your ideas, everything that makes you you I’ve seen it. And I think you more than anyone deserves to go with us. You might not have accomplished much on the outside but that’s because you know what you would’ve had to sacrifice to make it. You value your independence and freedom. You won’t let anyone control what you do in your own life and while some may say that’s an asshole trait and maybe they’re right it also means you won’t just bow down to someone at the slightest whim. That’s a good thing it means your strong and brave for what you believe in. That’s something we need in this new world. You’re also so very kind and gentle to those you care about. I’ve seen you help those closest to you without even a moment of hesitation. You once lost one of the earbuds for your headphones and spent an hour looking in the street for them and when you couldn’t find it replaced it with the closest one you could find and apologized to them for losing it. And yes we talked about it later and they said it’s fine and thank you the white one you gave them to replace it is perfect and they’re glad you didn’t just pick a random black one you found in your room. You actually took the time to find one that more closely matches the color and size of the old one and even if it’s not perfect it still works just as good as the old one. And when you know what to do and feel in control of the situation well you can do anything. Remember when you were sick for a month and couldn’t go to work so you had to do it remotely. You were amazing at that you got twice as much work done in three days as you normally do in a week. You did so good and I remember you were so proud when your boss gave you that bonus you were smiling for a week straight. But then when you got back you went right back to normal because you felt you were back in that same trap of just doing what you can to survive and not make a fuss. You felt it was pointless to work your ass off for something that would only get you more work and taken advantage of. And maybe you were wrong. Maybe you could’ve gotten a raise or a big promotion but honestly you didn’t want that. You were content just staying in your little bubble not having any attention on you just doing your work and then go home. But I’ve seen what you can do when your motivated, when you feel like your apart of something, you are something great during those moments and if we could have more of that and capture it harness it and let it run wild for the good of this new world we'd be on top in no time. The truth is we need you. We really do need you and we want you here with us when we take this new leap of faith into a whole new reality and start something great. There’s only a certain number of people we can take with us and you, you made the cut. I know for you it’s hard to believe but to anyone else that knows you it’s as clear as day why we picked you. Believe me hun we want you with us on this journey we need you with us on this journey. So what do you say ready to make history.” After he finished reading the message he slowly wiped the tears from his eyes and shakily replied “thank you peridot I think I’m ready” and peridot responded with a wink. “😉 no problem. Now go take your meds and go to bed it’s been a long day and you need some sleep. And before you go reheat those taquitos I know you haven’t eaten all day and I don’t want you to starve yourself to death before we leave this place.” He smirked then rolled his eyes. “Yes ma’am. I'll go do that now” “Good.


By The Old Willow Tree 120 seconds. That’s all I had. I had 120 seconds left to live. It’s a funny feeling. Counting the seconds before your inevitable death. Usually, people don’t know they’re exact time to live. But I did. That’s what the red ominous numbers said at least. The red numbers ticked down the seconds I had to live. I feel bad for the people who die alone. All alone without anyone to spend their final moments with. Count me lucky. I had someone screaming in my ear as my final seconds “No!” Willow screeched trying to yank the collar off my neck. “They said it would come off” She howled, tears starting to stream down her face. “Well, they lied didn’t they” I grunt clutching my bleeding leg. She starts to bawl in tears. “We were meant to leave” She wipes tears “Together” she screams. “Well, sometimes in life we don’t get to choose,” I say her my voice restrained in pain. She starts to frantically look for a way out. “Don’t” I Stop her gripping her hand “It’s useless to refuse the truth” She grasps my chest and starts to cry into my shoulder. “It isn’t fair” She sobs “I know I know, life can sometimes not be fair,” I tell her trying to soften my voice so she relaxes “So what do I do!” She sniffles. “There is nothing you can do, I guess just sit by my side I don’t want to die alone,” I say my voice cracking. I am not scared. What’s the point of being scared now. I accept the fact that my moments are slowly slipping away. I hold her tightly in my arms as she uses my shoulder as a pillow. Just like we always used to do. “Well there is one thing you can do,” I tell her. “What?” She asks impatiently “Sing with me Willow,” I say softly. My shoulder is drenched in tears as she buries her face in it. “Of course Domingo,” She says as I wipe her tears and she clears her throat. “Want to start,” I ask her and she giggles. “Ladies first” She giggles through her teary eyes. I chuckle and start to sing “Under the trees” I sing as we exchange lines like we always used to do “Over the River” She sings her voice gulping with almost every word “Down by the stream” Even with her gulping her voice as beautiful as ever “Through the meadows” The relaxing tone of her voice removes any thought “Across the leaves” All I think of is her “Cross the bridge” The memories of her flood my mind “And past the seam” Where we would sit in the willow tree and talk “And there you'll find” Those were some of my favourite memories “The old willow tree“ Her voice is soft almost angelic but not as high “Here I'll be waiting” But that’s a good thing she sounds like she is singing me to sleep “Here I'll be sitting” I imagine being back in the tree “For you to come find me” I imagine being way back when “Under the trees” When we would sit there for hours “Over the River” We would forget about the world “Down by the stream” Because in that tree there was just us “Through the meadows” Nobody to stop us “Across the leaves” No worries to stress us “Cross the bridge” Just us “And pass the seam” Sitting in the willow tree “And there I'll be sitting” I just want to freeze time and stay in those moments “In the old willow tree” But I know I can’t “Here I'll wait” Those moments will forever be in the past “For you to come hold me” I won’t be making any new memories any time soon “Here I'll wait” My seconds tick down “For you to watch the stars with me” But the whole world freezes as I just listen “So come down by the old willow tree” To Willow’s beautiful voice “It’s Under the trees” I could never really sing “Over the River” My voice always loses tone “Down by the stream” But her voice always kept a majestic tone “Through the meadows” I feel as though she is singing me to sleep “Across the leaves” One last lullaby “Cross the bridge” Before I sleep “And pass the seam” And never wake up “There you'll find” I close my eyes “The old willow tree” And start to imagine death “There you'll find” I just imagine it as a nap “Me” A nap “Waiting for you” You will never wake up from “To come and sit” No worries just sleep “So come find me” I smile “I'm down by the old willow tree” As willow sings the last line I look at the ominous numbers as they read. 30 seconds. I trail through Willow’s hair with my left hand as she holds my right hand tight. She always reminded me of a willow tree. Not only because of her name. Her deep brown eyes would remind me of the rough but welcoming bark. The bark we would always climb. Her silky long green hair. Dark green just like the leaves. Leaves we would always have to peek through to see the moon. 10 seconds the numbers read. Willow doesn’t whimper anymore instead she says “Any final words”. “If these are my final moments I am glad they’re with you” I respond as I feel a sharp jabbing pain in my neck. My world starts to fade to black but before it does I turn Willow’s head to face me. Our eyes lock. As my vision fades to black the final thing I see. Is her beautiful brown eyes. They twinkle in the sunset. “Don’t worry I’ll always be waiting, by the old willow tree,” I tell her as my vision fades from twinkling brown to black.


It started a few weeks ago, and honestly, I thought I was going crazy. Maybe I am, this whole thing is just so twisted and insane, and there It is just staring at me. I hear It at night, moving around in the dark corners of my house, I’m just glad It hasn’t figured out how to get up the stairs yet or things could be a lot worse. The paint is starting to peel and blister off Its surface, and I’m scared to look away in case It moves, or turns on, or if It just disappears entirely. My Henry Hoover is trying to kill me. Look, I know it sounds stupid and kind of like an insignificant issue- but think of the implications… Promise me you’ll think of the implications. I’ve locked myself in the bathroom, I can still hear It knocking against the kitchen door. A whole corridor and two locked doors between us and yet why do I feel so terrified, like if open this one it’ll just be waiting for me, nozzle at the ready. Two hours ago, I heard this agonising crash coming from the lounge, followed by a series of even louder crashes and then the infernal vrummmmmm of It powering up. I had no idea what to do, but I hadn’t seen my cat Merlin in about half a day and I feared the worst. I put on this really thick ski jacket that I remembered was still sitting in my wardrobe, and the goggles of course, the plan wasn’t to go in looking pretty- I was preparing for war. After a few deep breaths I ran down the stairs as fast as I could and didn’t look back, a true hero- except I forgot about the Lego. My corridor has- or should I say had- two shelves on either side, and on each one is- or were- a series of Lego monuments. Hogwarts, The Death Star, an Igloo from Club Penguin, all gone. I’m not sure how It managed to pull it off, but I came downstairs and there was just absolute carnage, Lego everywhere, so many hours of work just gone, and It was sat in the middle of it all grinning at me. I barely had enough time to take it all in- still standing halfway down the stairs- before It let rip, It reverse-vacuumed me. Little Lego bullets ripped into my coat, one hit the back of my hand and grazed my knuckle, I started retreating and realised I only had my socks on then immediately stood on part of the Igloo, pain so much pain. It took a hold of me and before I managed to reach out for the banister, I felt myself fall backwards down the stairs, one hand on my injured foot and the other still flailing in the air for something to hold onto. I was lucky, the coat stand managed to break my fall but I had just enough sense to stay down and pretend that It had taken me out. I watched It with one eye, goggles half steamed up and after watching me for a while It turned away from me to start reloading, I took my chance and quickly mapped out a route that would have me landing in all of the empty spaces- no more Lego piercing into my poor feet. I can’t even remember getting up, or making my way across the room, but I do remember jumping up behind It, hugging It close so the nozzle couldn’t reach out and grab me, then dumping it in the kitchen before turning back and locking the door behind me. All of this couldn’t have taken more than 15 seconds, but in my mind, it played out like one of those epic slow-motion montages you see in war films. I am the modern-day Joan of Arc. That is why I am currently holed up in the bathroom, massaging my left foot and waiting for my best friend Tilly to show up.


‘You want your coat, Mama?’ ‘No need child. Train’ll be here in a minute.’ I nodded, walking back to the kids. The crowd was long gone but Mama stayed sitting on her suitcase by the tracks, waiting patiently to start our new lives. ‘Is Daddy coming back soon?’ Dorian asked. He was the next oldest after me, but still had the naivety. I envied that. ‘He’ll be along later. Pro’ly coming back on the train to save his legs’. Truth is Daddy probably wasn’t coming back. When the train never came on time, he got impatient. Daddy always lacked patience. He used to say Mama needed to do enough waiting for both of them. So rather than sit and wait with his family, he said he’d start walking along the tracks to meet the train. But that was hours ago and the light was starting to fade. I closed the buttons on my wool jacket and did the same for the young’uns. The desert’s plenty hot but once the sun goes down, you can catch yourself hypothermia quicker than shit through a goose. That’s what Daddy always said, before Mama would correct him. *Language, Hank. They’re children*. That we may be but it wouldn’t matter a damn once the Big Dark comes in. We’d only heard stories about it from folks going the other way. But for me, it wasn’t the words they’d say. Especially since most didn’t really see much through the fog. It was the look in their eyes when they described the screaming. That was enough for everyone to start making their peace and pack up. Maitland got their trains first of course, then the folks at the Pines. All the way down until it was just us. The more educated had noticed that once the richer folks got taken, the number of trains started to decrease, but at least they had the sense not to say it out loud. Griffin swore blind that he’d send one more train for us. No one could pay full price for a ticket but we gave what we could. Seems like it wasn’t enough. I noticed Old Earl McTaggert hauling some steel down from his cow shed to board up his windows. I knew it was about time we start doing the same, even though we didn’t have any steel for our windows. A few people with less than most were staying in the church. At least praying would give them something to do to stop their minds from drifting too much. ‘Can we sit with Mama?’ said Jessie, tugging on my sleeve. She was the youngest, not just in our family but of the families left. I didn’t want to think about what that would mean when the Dark settled in, so I just nodded. I let Dorian sit on the case so I could stay standing and feel useful. Jessie sat on Mama’s knee, curled up, ready to go to sleep. ‘Give it another half hour then we better go inside’. Mama gave us a little nod and started to sing a soft lullaby as the last of the light went down over the valley. So now we wait.


A tiny hand reaches towards a small, round, faintly glowing berry growing in a wild berry bush. “Not ready!” an elderly woman chirps, smacking the hand away only hard enough to sting for a second. The hand, belonging to a wide-eyed, confused boy, retracts quickly from the berry bush. The child looks up at the woman, eyebrows furrowed unhappily. “Why not, Oma?” the child whines. “The moon is not full in the sky,” the woman says, turning and pointing through the trees at the just over half-full moon, “We must wait until it is full, that is when the berries are ripest.” The child looks to the moon and sighs dejectedly at the sight of the thing. “How much fuller does it got to be?” the child questions once he turns his attention back to his grandmother. The woman looks back up to the sky and squints her eyes. She purses her lips and shrugs, “Not much longer,” she reaches for his hand, and lifts a basket of berries from the ground, “We will come back when it is time.” The boy glances to the moon one final time before grabbing his grandmother’s hand and following her down the dirt path back to their village. As the boy lays his bed that night, he finds himself searching for the moon through the cracks in his blinds. Once he’s sure his parents are sound asleep in the other room, he slides out from under the covers and hastily yanks the string to his blinds. They reel open with a clatter, and he jerks his head to his door, waiting for someone to come running in at the noise. He stands, breathless for more than a minute, staring through the dark of his room. Finally, he lets out a sigh and peers through his window. The moon almost seems to stare back at him, its eye only half open. He traces the outline of it on his window with the tip of his finger thoughtfully. Suddenly, he jumps up with an idea on his mind, and hurriedly tip-toes over to his drawer. He digs through it as quietly as a child can, and eventually pulls out a small marker. He pops the lid off the marker and begins to draw on his window, giving the moon a second, crudely drawn eye and a toothy smile. He smiles similarly back at it, only with his front two teeth missing. At this point, he slinks back into bed and curls up under his covers. The boy stares out the window until sleep eventually takes him. He repeats this same routine each night for days, watching as the moon’s light slowly creeps from center to edge. “*Psst*,” his grandmother whispers through the crack in his door one night. He had only just gotten into bed, and wondered why she would come at such a late hour to see him. “Oma?” he questioned curiously. “Yes,” she says, peeking her head into the door with an excited grin, “Put your clothes on, it’s time.” The boy had never jumped out of bed so quickly in his life. “Quietly!” she chirps in a hushed yell. He nods and continues getting ready. Soon, they’re back on the path to the patch of forest again. The boy looks down at his hand that his grandmother is not holding, and watches it tremble with excitement. He can see the bush before they even get to it, and wonders why it is covered in fireflies for a moment. All at once, he realizes that it is *not* fireflies, but the berries that are glowing so brightly. The boy tears away from his grandmother and sprints towards the berries, smiling from ear to ear. His grandmother lets him go easily, as she remembers her first time seeing the moonberries, too. In pure awe, he stands in front of the bush. He cautiously reaches towards one, a single finger extended out. He pokes one, gently pressing its glowing skin. He giggles, and turns towards his grandma who is finally by his side. He looks to the berries, then back at her. She nods in approval, placing her hand on his back to urge him forward. She holds her basket near him in wait. The boy plucks one, causing the leaves to quietly rustle. He goes to place it into the basket but his grandma stops him. She points to his mouth and his eyes widen. “Can I?” he asks. “Your patience should be rewarded,” she says softly, glancing up at the moon. He turns to the moon, still holding the plump berry between his fingers. Closing his eyes, he puts the berry into his mouth and bites down. The taste is unlike anything he had before. It’s sweet, tangy, yet mild in flavor. He savors it as long as he can before it melts away from his taste buds. When it’s over, he and his grandmother begin to pick handfuls of the ripe berries to fill the basket. They stand there for some time, combing through the bush that never seems to run out of berries no matter how many they pick. Once she is satisfied, his grandmother takes the boy’s hand and they begin back down the path to their village, both with smiles plastered on their faces. The boy looks up at the full moon as they walk, imagining its one, gleaming eye looking down on him fondly. He sends it one last toothless grin, and giggles.


*Sersun Chapters:* *This installment inspired by* *.* \ **Chapter 8: Enraged Earth** Night fell, passed, and was replaced by the morning dawn. Ezekiel had, as always, kept watch through the night. Nothing serious had happened aside from distant rumbling a few times during the night. At the time Ezekiel had thought it was just thunder from one of the many transitory storms, but when morning came and there were no clouds in sight he found himself worried. He made his way back to the camp in the plaza, finding Robin already awake and preparing breakfast. "Hey there Ezzy, how was nightwatch?" "Mostly uneventful, but there was rumbling off in the distance a few times last night." "We miss a storm then?" "No, there were no clouds, and it all came from the same direction." As if to punctuate Ezekiel's words, the rumbling sound echoed through the city streets again. Very close, close enough Ezekiel could identify it as a collapsing building. Robin scrambled to his feet as Riverwood and Sasha jolted awake. Robin looked up at Ezekiel, "Hey, would you mind going somewhere high up? That sounds like we've got a wraith nearby, let us know how close please." Sasha pulled her shield off the ground next to her and pointed down one of the streets, "Don't bother, it's already here." Ezekiel turned, a lumbering four-legged mass of dirt and rock as wide as the supply cart and twice as tall wandered in a far intersection. Robin motioned for Ezekiel to stay still, "Don't move, it might not have noticed us." Ezekiel blinked, "But it's right there." "Do you see any eyes on it? Earth wraiths find you through your footsteps." Sasha scoffed, "Especially yours, clanker." "Haven't you taken one of these down on your own before?" "Do I look like I can take a boulder the size of a house down on my own? They're usually smaller." The wraith turned, facing right towards them. With a sudden burst of speed, it charged. Robin gestured backwards, "Hey Riverwood, we're kinda squishy, mind getting us out of the way?" Riverwood grabbed Robin and launched the two of them upwards to a taller building with a gust of wind. Ezekiel glanced over at Sasha, "Are you going to get out of the way too?" "I know how to fight." Ezekiel heard a click and metal sheets folded out of Sasha's buckler, unfolding into a tower shield just as tall as she was bordered by razor-sharp edges. "Alright tin man, keep it distracted and hit it hard as you can. Only way to take these down is chip away until you reach the core." Ezekiel nodded, then launched forward at the oncoming wraith and slamming his shoulder into its center of mass. Rock splintered and shattered, chunks of dirt sprayed off, and as Ezekiel's feet plowed a furrow in the road the wraith began to lose momentum. Ezekiel heard a rush of wind, and a moment after that Sasha rushed past him at high speed. She dipped her shield down and pushed it through the top of the earth wraith's leg, the hit from its sharpened edge launching out a spray of earth. As Sasha readied herself for another charge the wraith bucked, launching Ezekiel up into the air and back to the plaza. Ezekiel hit one of the obelisks causing it to wobble ominously. He fell to the ground and moments later Sasha landed next to him somewhat more gracefully. Sasha growled, watching as Riverwood began holding the wraith's attention by showering the area around it with pieces of surrounding buildings. "This isn't going to work, we're going to be fighting it all day like this." Ezekiel looked back, "Can earth wraiths climb?" "No, why?" "Then we can just toss it in the chasm. It stops being our problem." Sasha nodded but was interrupted as Robin shouted out at them, "Hey ruffians! Get the wraith to charge the obelisk!" Sasha looked at Ezekiel. He shrugged and she nodded, "Help me get its attention, I'll lead it here." Ezekiel rushed the wraith again, picking up a piece of rubble and slamming it into the side of the wraith when it turned to face him. He could almost feel the anger pouring off it as he jumped back out of its way. Riverwood stopped the shower of rocks, and Sasha came in behind Ezekiel, slamming the front of her shield into the wraith where the impact from Ezekiel's first charge was still visible. Sasha jumped back and sprinted away from the wraith. Ezekiel held still until the two had passed, then began chasing behind them. He watched as Sasha reached the obelisk, kicked upwards, ran up its side for a few steps, and flipped back over the wraith as it collided with the obelisk. The obelisk shifted, sliding off its base and tipping out over the chasm. Ezekiel didn't wait to see the impact, jumping at the wraith instead. He slammed his entire weight into the staggering monster, and kept pushing until it tumbled over the side of the cliff. With a synchronized crash, the wraith hit the ground far below, and the top of the obelisk slammed into the far side of the gap. The obelisk cracked slightly, but held. Robin jumped down from his perch and sauntered over, grinning. "That solves both our problems at the same time, yeah?" Ezekiel looked at the fallen obelisk and let out a low whistle. The cart and supplies would need to be moved over separately, but sure enough, it would work as a bridge to get everything across. The path forward was open again.


Any feedback is welcome and appreciated. Live Wire The noise was unbearable. The sounds of massive cogs clanking as they moved together as one was deafening but you could still hear the engine struggling, straining, and screaming as it used all it’s might to get this machine to move. The heat was exhausting, the engine was producing copious amounts of steam, which was a good sign but for ten people stood in essentially a metal chamber it made the heat almost intolerable. That metal chamber was the command room and inside the whole team of researchers were stood waiting, watching and some were praying. “Oh god please let this work” shouted one of the research assistants. I barely heard her shout it and I was standing right next to her. I looked at her and noticed that the heat had started to make her makeup run. I looked around and realized that the heat was affecting us all. Everyone was sweating profusely and people’s glasses had started to steam up. Someone else shouted something, I thought it may have been some other research assistant saying the same but I have no idea. Everyone in the command room was anxious but excited, they needed their machine to move. They had been told they only had one more chance before the entire project was scrapped. Everyone knew that scrapping the project would be a mistake but they also knew that the funding required was slowly draining away all of the available resources. A lot of us had come from nothing to become a part of something bigger than all of us, something we could say we made and that we were proud of. The sacrifices that had been made for us to get this far was too much for the project to get scrapped but that didn’t matter to the people above us. They only cared about results and how much it cost them. They weren’t the ones that watched their colleagues, their friends get dragged away because they were being a so called “detriment” to the project. I lost some good friends along the way, but when this works it’ll all be worth it. At least, that’s what I tell myself to get through it. If I stop to think about it, I’ll become a “detriment” and I haven’t worked here all my life just to get thrown out in our moment of greatness. This is everything I’ve worked for, everything we’ve worked for. I’m not about to let some armed thug ruin that for me. I had worked on the circuitry of the behemoth; I was responsible for making sure that when it turned on it could do anything it wanted or needed to. At that moment everything changed. We heard a noise that we hadn’t heard before. The first creak. The first sign of life. We did it, we had done it, we had created a behemoth of an Automaton and it was showing signs of life. We watched on in glee and watched as it used its massive hulking arms to hold itself steady while it took its first step with its colossal foot. It looked around almost as if it was trying to figure out where it was. And then it saw us. We were all still in awe that we had done it but as we watched on, it started to crouch down. The colossal body creaked as it moved closer to the ground and closer to us. The ground beneath us shook as its knee hit the ground. It was there now, just staring at us. It had no mouth so it couldn’t speak to us, but the light we had used for its eyes just burned a bright blue and it was mesmerizing. Everyone was just staring at it, it was amazing, it was the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen. It was my life’s work, our life’s work. And like that it was taken away from us. The door was kicked in so hard it nearly came off its hinges. Armed with rifles 5 guards aimed at us all but we just continued to stare straight into the light. Then the head of R&D walked in. He started to talk but I didn’t pay attention to him. I was to busy staring at the colossal automaton’s eyes. I probably should have listened to him because he said “ This is now my project now, all of your work belongs to me. Open fire, I want none of them left alive but save the research make sure its all transported to my office.” And that was the end of my life, as I lay there on the floor, staring up at the massive blue light looking in at the murder and chaos that had just ensued. I was bleeding out, my vision was growing darker and darker, until it finally went black.


Malcolm continued to keep me under a close watch the next day. As soon as I woke the next morning he greeted me with a hearty breakfast and a fully-planned itinerary. My every moment was guided by him. We spent much of our time down by the harbor. The bustling crowds there allowed Malcolm to more regularly stop and talk to acquaintances, and introduce his strange find. However, I watched as best as I could, the blue-clothed workers going about their day. I watched their arduous labor, their quiet movements, their rare, almost non-existent interactions with the other citizens. It was as if the two lived in separate worlds, ghosts to each other. Only once did I see one of the citizens give the blue-clothed workers any extended attention. An old lady watched a young male worker intently. She never spoke to him, just stood some ten meters off, watching his movements. I had no idea what her motive was. Her face seemed so calm, so neutral, I could read no emotion in it. The blue-clothed worker, for his part, never seemed to notice she was there. I was only able to observe her for a few minutes before Malcolm ripped me away. “Steven,” he called out, before dragging me over to a middle-aged man, with a long and pointed brown beard. Malcolm introduced us, gave my backstory, painting the picture of my oddity. “This is Steven Donsbach, one of the leaders of the island,” he said. My attention was caught hearing the title. It was an opportunity to learn more, to get a different viewpoint from someone higher up. However, it wasn’t to be. Every attempt to join the conversation, Malcolm interrupted. He filled the silence with chatter, made sure my only sentences were responses to direct questions. I wasn’t to ask any awkward questions. I was to be an amusement. Nothing more. I only had two days left on the island and I was running out of time to learn anything more. However, I awoke with optimism on the third day. Today was one of the two days when Malcolm had to work. I got dressed and ready to leave as soon as I could. But as I walked through to the kitchen, I was greeted by Tamsyn, waiting for me. She had already poured me a cup of coffee and pushed it across the table towards me. I sat down, prepared to drink another cup of the bitter black liquid. Tamsyn took a large sip from her own drink, before speaking. “Dad is at work today. He asked me to keep an eye on you for the day.” I did my best to appear upbeat. “Oh, what do you have planned?” She smirked. “I’m fairly certain my dad would like me to take you on a long walk around the island, show you a few of the smaller villages on the west side. However, I think you’re probably old enough to handle yourself.” I instinctively let out a small chuckle. “I appreciate the faith.” She looked around the room for a few seconds, pausing before speaking. “I know you wanted to talk to the blues.” “Yes.” She paused again before the smirk returned. “If dad asks, you looked at some old stone ruins on the west coast, okay?” I nodded in agreement. “I’ll tell you where they live. You can go to their settlement.” I had no idea why Tamsyn was willing to go her against her father’s wishes. But I didn’t question, I simply listened to her detailed directions. “If my dad finds out I told you where to go, he will not be pleased,” she said. “You have my word,” I replied. I once more let out a flurry of thankyous, probably a few too many, before heading outside as quickly as I could. It was about a two-hour walk to the settlement. I climbed up a steep hill away from the main town by the harbor. At the top of the hill I met a fork in the path. Straight ahead the path continued along the top of the hill. The path to the right, the one I was meant to take, descended steeply and sharply towards the sea. The path was a series of natural steps worn into the hillside from many years of foot traffic. Rocks and tufts of grass stuck out awkwardly from the brown dust path. I began my slow descent of the uneven and difficult path. It didn’t take long until I could see a series of large brick buildings nestled by the edge of a cliff. The buildings were low to the ground, with flat sheet metal roofs. They were thin, probably some ten metres across. But each was incredibly long, stretching out at least seventy to eighty metres. I could see a few people walking between the buildings, each wearing the light blue clothes that marked their fate in life. Most stopped what they were doing and turned to take in the sight of a stranger walking towards their homes. Others dashed inside as quickly as they could. As I reached the settlement I greeted the first person I met, a thin, but very tall man with disappearing brown hair. “Hello, how are you?” I tried to greet him. He seemed confused, looking around himself, hoping someone else might respond on his behalf. Coming up with nothing he merely stood in silence, staring at my chest. “It’s okay,” I said, walking slowly towards him. “I’m not a citizen. I don’t live here. You don’t serve me.” Puzzlement appeared on the man's face. Several times he seemed to go to speak, his mouth opening before clamping shut again. Finally, he spoke. “If you are not from the Bluekira Ministrations, then why are you here?” I explained to him, as I had to Malcolm, my plans to travel the islands, and my quest to learn more about the archipelago. I had somewhat assumed that Malcolm’s reaction to my story would be the default here. And I said the story expecting a sort of merry, but well-meaning mocking. But instead, there was no laughter from the man, no enthusiastic curiosity. He seemed to just accept the information and move on. “What do you want to see?” he asked. \ I asked if he would show me around the settlement. He obliged. I quickly learned, as obvious as it was, that almost all the inhabitants were away, off working their long, toiling days. Only those who worked odd hours were here. The man introduced himself by the name of Wyatt, and we began a slow meander around the outside of some of the buildings. Their concrete foundations sat a foot above the ground and formed the only bit of smooth land in the settlement. The brick was cheap and chipped in many places. Cement had been swathed on carelessly, leaving thick gray globules hanging to the side of the building. Wyatt led me inside. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. While various spotlights of sunshine managed to make their way inside through the shutters, for the most part, the building was dingy and dark. For the entire stretch of the building, there seemed to be two rows of thin - very-thin - mattresses against each of the walls. Next to each one were some personal effects. Often, just consisted of a small pile of clothes, perhaps a cup of water, and very occasionally a tattered book. In some ways, it was nicer than the prison where I had been kept on Kadear Coalfields. After all, they did have at least something resembling a mattress to sleep on here. But any slight comfort was overshadowed by the scale. This room housed a little over a hundred people every night. And this building was one of many along this thin bit of cliff, tucked away out of sight of the citizens. It was strange to see the building so empty. At night, the whole room must have been filled with voices and baked with the heat of a hundred working bodies. But currently, it felt cold, and the walls seemed to breathe an icy touch. “It’s hard to imagine so many people all having to sleep in the same room,” I said. Wyatt nodded in acknowledgment. “It makes it difficult to sleep. Especially with the noise.” “The noise?” I asked. “Snorers. They aren’t very popular,” he laughed the meekest of chuckles. “It can’t be an easy life to lead,” I remarked. “In some ways,” he shrugged. “But, it could always be worse. At least every day I get to leave, see some other part of the island.” “Some don’t?” He turned and began heading back outside as he spoke. “A handful of people look after this place. Cook, clean, mend anything that’s broken. They never get to leave here. They work here, they sleep here.” “You mean, there are a few people here who have never left this place?” “They’ll have left at some point, sure. But most won’t have been away more than once or twice in their lives.” I didn’t want to seem voyeuristic. But this premise offered another viewpoint I was keen to explore. “Would you be able to introduce me?” I asked. Wyatt scrunched his face in uncertainty. “They may not like being interrupted while they are at work.” He led me back through the settlement while he thought on it. “I need to head to work soon. I’ll take you to them before I leave.” I thanked Wyatt for his help and apologized for taking up what little time he had. He said he was happy to help, although I suspected, in reality, he had felt obligated. A lifetime of being trained to say 'yes' was not easily shaken. We walked towards the entrance of the settlement until we reached another building, near-identical to the others. Only stopping by it did I notice the difference, a small metal chimney rising from the roof on the far end, steam gently wafting from it. “This is the common space. Where we meet for dinners,” Wyatt said. “I have to head. But Perdita should be in the back there.” I thanked Wyatt once more and offered my hand to shake it. He seemed taken back by the prospect. He looked at my extended limb for a few seconds, before simply nodding, turning, and heading the other way. Inside the building, the large main hall was empty. But there was a wall about three-quarters of the way along the building, with a small doorway built into the brickwork. I could hear movement from the other side; the sound of ill-fitting sandals slapping against the concrete floor, the scraping of a wire brush, and the clanging of metal trays landing on top of each other. I walked towards the sound as I began to smell the aroma of food. It smelt edible, but not exactly pleasant. A smell of meat that was just at the point of turning rotten, weak vegetables, and boiling water. I walked into the kitchen to find a woman with her back turned to me. She had long brown hair reaching down to her waist left in a tangled-free flowing mess. She was, of course, wearing blue. The woman turned, and my whole body skipped a beat. It was Tamsyn. Tamsyn, but now dressed in the blue garments. “Can I help you?” she asked. “Tamsyn,” I cried. “What are you doing here?” “I’m sorry,” she replied in confusion. “It’s just me,” I replied, turning sideways so she could see behind me into the hall. “Is there something you need?” she said in a polite tone that masked both confusion and concern. Suddenly I noticed the small differences. Tamsyn was fair, but now her skin was as pale as milk. Her eyes were a tiny bit more arched than they had been. And she now had a small, but noticeable, mole on her left cheek. “Hello, sorry, I’m Ferdinand” I said, trying to start again. “I’m Perdita,” she replied, her eyes fixed to my chest. “Is there something I can help you with?” I looked at her face once more. I tried studying the lines and curves of her jaw, the distance between the eyes, the width of the nose. Everything was Tamsyn’s and yet... not. So similar, and yet just with the tiniest distinctions. There was only one answer. Tamsyn, had a twin.


This is it, the end of America. It’s on all the radios and on all of the news stations… “Asteroid Amagadden due to reach earth in 1 day.” I hear on my radio as I sit under my sheets whimpering. Just when America had gotten itself back on track we have to deal with this shit... Does that asteroid even know how it’s gonna affect the economy? If that damned glorified rock hits the earth the American dollar probably won’t even be worth a 1/10th of its former glory. Even worse, there’s a group of communists chanting towards the sky all day and night. “Destroy capitalism!, Destroy America!” It’s starting to get on my nerves. Scientists on tv are saying things like “Seriously, the economy is the least of our concerns, if that asteroid hits we’ll all be de-” I turn off the tv, there’s no need for that white coat wearing asshole to tell me, I know that we’ll be in even more debt than before. On the bright side, more people have started going to church after they heard about the crisis and are spending more time with their families. This is what America truly is, a land where tough times pull people together. That there is the American way, and as long as we hold true to our ideals, we won’t have to go through a second great depression. I look at the clock on my alarm and it reads 6:30 A.M. It’s about time for me to head to work. I finish my morning routine by shit-talking some stranger online and when I walk outside the traffic is just terrible. Why do sheeple do these things? They’ll do anything the lizard people tell em to do. I get into my car and begin driving to work, damn it, I’m an hour late now. I finally make my way out of my car and into the office building only to find out that no one is there. See, this is exactly what I meant. People refusing to work, staying home with their families, and being lazy. This is the collapse of America, if this shit keeps up I’ll have to move to Canada, but if I do that I’ll look like a band-wagoner, so that isn’t even an option for me. I look into the sky outside my work building to see nothing but smoke, the honking of the cars can be still be heard as I sit outside of my building. I see a scraggly old man holding a cardboard sign with the reading “The end is not near!” He notices me and begins chanting out “The end is not near!” in an automatic tone. “Tell me about it, these people are acting like it’s the end of the world,” I say as a tire flies at my building and breaks the glass on the 4th floor. The man begins laughing maniacally, “Yes! Yes, that’s what I’ve been saying but no one will listen to me,” he says in desperation. “Then I guess we’re just two of a kind then huh?” I say as I rub my head. I begin to go home after waiting a few more hours to see if anyone would show up and I just sleep until the day ends. I wake up in the morning to check my stocks. "What a shitty day today is," I say as I hear a rumbling brewing in the background.


#Welcome to Serial Sunday! Please be sure to read the entire post before submitting; there are changes! To those brand new to the feature and those returning from last week, welcome! Do you have a self-established universe you’ve been writing or planning to write in? Do you have an idea for a world that’s been itching to get out? This is the perfect place to explore that. Each week, I will post a single theme to inspire you. You have 850 words to tell the story. Feel free to jump in at any time if you feel inspired. Writing for previous weeks’ themes is not necessary in order to join.   ***   #This week's theme is Distortion! As we continue to explore the overarching theme of ‘change’ for March, we will focus on “distortion” this week. Sometimes, our view of a given situation is distorted by our perceptions and emotions, or by those around us. What does this look like in your world? Are your characters being intentionally misleading or are they victims of their own distorted perceptions? What consequences will this have for them and those around them? These are just a few things to get you started. Remember, the theme should be present within the story in some way, but its interpretation is completely up to you. /   ***   #Theme Schedule: I recognize that writing a serial can take a bit of planning. Each week, I will be releasing the following 2 weeks’ themes here in the Schedule section of the post. * March 14 - Distortion (this week) * March 21 - Resistance * March 28 - Loss   ***   #How It Works: In the comments below, submit a story that is between 500 - 850 words in your own original universe, inspired by this week’s theme. (Using the theme word is welcome but not necessary.) This can be the beginning of a brand new serial or an installment in your in-progress serial. You have until 6pm EST the following Saturday to submit your story. Please make sure to read *all* of the rules before posting!   ***   #The Rules: * **All top-level comments must be a story.** Use the stickied comment for off-topic discussion and questions you may have. * **Do not pre-write your serial.** You may do outlining and planning ahead of time, but you need to wait until the post is released to begin writing for the current week. Pre-written content or content written for another prompt/post is not allowed. * **Stories must be 500-850 words.** Use to check your word count. * **Stories must be posted by Saturday 6pm EST.** That is one hour before the beginning of Campfire. Stories submitted after the deadline will not be eligible for rankings and will not be read during campfire. * **Only one serial per author at a time.** This does not include serials written outside of Serial Sunday. * **Authors must leave at least 2 feedback comments on stories to quality for rankings every week.** The comment **must** include at least one detail about what the author has done well. Failing to meet the 2 comment requirement will disqualify you from weekly rankings. You have until the following Sunday at 12pm EST to fulfill your feedback requirements. * **Keep the content “vaguely family friendly”.** While content rules are more relaxed here at r/ShortStories, we’re going to roll with the loose guidelines for now. If you’re ever unsure if your story would cross the line, please modmail and ask! * **Begin your post with the name of your serial between triangle brackets** (e.g. <My Awesome Serial>). This will allow our serial bot to track your parts and add your serial to the full catalogue. Please note: You **must** use the same serial name for each installment of your serial. This includes commas and apostrophes. If not, the bot won’t recognize your serial installments.   ***   #Reminders: * **Make sure your post on this thread also includes links to your previous installments**, if you have a currently in-progress serial. Those links must be direct links to the previous installment on the preceding Serial Saturday/Sunday posts or to your own subreddit or profile. But an in-progress serial is not required to start. You may jump in at any time. * **Saturdays I will be hosting a Serial Campfire on the discord main voice lounge**. Join us to read your story aloud, hear other stories, and share your own thoughts on serial writing! We start at 7pm EST. You can even come to just listen, if that’s more your speed. Don’t worry about being late, just join! * **You can nominate your favorite stories each week**. Send me a message on discord, reddit, or through modmail and let me know by 12pm EST the following Sunday. You do not have to attend the campfire, or have read all of the stories, to make nominations. * Authors who successfully finish a serial with at least 8 installments will be featured with a modpost recognizing their completion and a flair banner on the subreddit. Authors are eligible for this highlight post only if they have followed the 2 feedback comments per thread rule (and all other post rules). * There’s a Super Serial role on the Discord server, so make sure you grab that so you’re notified of all Serial Sunday related news! *** #Last Week’s Rankings - - u/ArchipelagoMind - - u/Xacktar - - u/Leebeewilly - - u/stickfist - - u/Lord_Demerek - - u/MossRock42 - - u/Mattswritingaccount   ***   #Ranking System The weekly rankings work on a point-based system. I’ve recently added two new ways to get points each week. Here’s the breakdown: **Nominations (votes sent in by users):** - First place - 6 points - Second place - 5 points - Third place - 4 points - Fourth place - 3 points - Fifth place - 2 points - Sixth place and on - 1 point **Feedback:** In order to be eligible for feedback points, you have to complete your 2 required feedback comments. - Written feedback (on the thread) - 1 point each, up to 3 points. - Verbal feedback (during Campfire) - 1 point each, up to 3 points. * ***Note:*** Completing the max for both is equivalent to a first place vote. Keep in mind that you may not use the same feedback to receive both written and verbal feedback points. Your feedback should be actionable and list at least one thing the author has done well. If you’re unsure what this means, check out from this past week.     ***   ###Subreddit News - You can now post serials to r/Shortstories, outside of Serial Sunday.


Familiar Faces Josh had been a pretty awkward guy throughout highschool, and that awkwardness followed him through college. Now, as a twenty-four year old employed college graduate, he is a slightly less awkward version of his previous self. It was something he had always resented about himself. Because of this awkwardness, he didn’t have much of a social life and dating “wasn’t really his thing.” Josh is now a slightly less awkward young man who is trying to meet someone. There is no one he has his eye on, so he has taken to popular dating apps in hopes of finding someone special. He had been on a few dates, but has yet to meet someone who was worth a second date. He managed to find a flaw with every girl he met - too chatty, too much of a partier, couldn’t hold a moderately intelligent conversation, not looking for anything serious, the list goes on. After matching with a girl from his area, Sarah, he decides to go on one last date before he gives up. They spend a couple of days talking and seem to hit it off, so Josh decides to take her to a local bar that is known for its craft beer selection. He gets to the bar a few minutes early and grabs a table for two and a few glasses of water while he waits for Sarah to arrive. She was supposed to be there around seven, and it was now nearly seven thirty. Losing hope, he finally orders a beer and hopes that maybe she’ll show. Sure enough, she does, but she does not come alone. Confused, Josh stands up to introduce himself with a handshake. “Sarah? Hi, I’m Josh. I almost didn’t think you’d make it.” “Here I am,” she responds as her guest and she sits down at the table that was once for two. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought company. This is my roommate Alex.” Of course he minds, you generally don’t bring a friend on dates. But awkwardly he responds, “Of course not, the more the merrier I guess.” The three are awkwardly sitting there in silence when their server finally returns to grab the two girls drink orders. They order their drinks, and Josh his second beer, as well as put an appetizer in. Josh tries to start a conversation on his “date,” but does not get very far. The two girls are too busy chatting about someone they met last night. As they sit there in awkward silence, their server returns with the round of drinks and their chips and salsa app. Again, Josh tries to spark some sort of conversation with Sarah and Alex as he has been sitting here basically in silence. He asks them about work and they both give him very short answers and continue to talk about where they are headed after this. Knowing that this “date” is going absolutely nowhere, he leaves some cash on the table, says goodbye to the girls and leaves. “Well, this has been, uh, fun but I should be going,” he tells the girls sheepishly. Sarah and Alex barely noticed his presence, let alone his absence. Frustrated from his worst date yet, he heads across the street to his usually spot. There he is greeted by a fairly good friend of his, the bartender, John. “How’s it going Josh? Happy Friday, huh?” “It’s going alright, happy might be a stretch,” he replies as he takes his usual seat at the bar. John walks away briefly and returns with a beer in hand for Josh. “Here ya go, freshly tapped today. So tell me, Joshy, why so blue?” “Ya know just life. I just left an, uh, interesting date. Will not be seeing her, or them, again.” “Them? Two girls at once, you a player or something now?” Shaking his head, Josh responds, “ Ha. You know me I could barely get one girl to go out with me, let alone two. She showed up thirty minutes late and brought her roommate. They barely noticed I was there. Easily my worst date yet. Might be time to throw in the towel.” “Oh shit, man. That sounds terrible. How about another beer on the house?” “Sure.” John walks away to grab the beer and greet his newest bar guest. Josh notices her sit down, as she looks oddly familiar. He is confident he knows her, but is having a hard time remembering how. Looking into his now empty beer glass, he remembers his freshman year of college and the girl he sat near in a biology lab. He remembers the two of them hit it off and even went on a few dates. Was that really who just sat down at the bar? John returns with a beer and questions why Josh seems to have been staring at this new girl. “I swear, I know that girl. I think we hung out a few times in college.” “Maybe you should go say hi to her then?” “Nah. Not with the luck I’ve been having.” “C’mon man. You’ve got some liquid luck in your system now. What’s the worst that could happen? She invites her sister along?” Reluctantly, Josh responds, “I guess you’re right. I don’t have much to lose at this point. Let me get another beer and whatever she’s drinking.” John hands him the two drinks and Josh makes his way to the other end of the bar. Handing her the Tito’s and cran, it finally clicks, it was Emily. He couldn’t remember why they drifted apart over the years. “Hey.. Remember me? How have you been?” “Josh? Good to see you! I’ve been doing pretty well. You?” “Oh ya know, I can’t complain. My job treats me well and I’ve got a roof over my head.” Laughing she says, “That’s good to hear. You live around here now? I just got relocated so I’m still getting familiar with the area.” “Yeah, I live not too far from here. Relocated huh? What do you do for work,” he asks as he sits down next to her. “I’m a salesperson for medical equipment. Nothing too exciting, but I like the traveling.” “Yeah I bet. That sounds like a pretty good gig. How long are you going to be around here for?” “I’m not entirely sure yet, but at least a year. Maybe you can show me around sometime.” “Sure sure. I could do that. Let me give you my number.