My boyfriend’s shaky, scared breath jutted in short, quick puffs. “Yeah,” he panicked into the walkie-talkie, his eyes darting as they widened and then normalized under this flickering science laboratory. The lights dimmed and then brightened—no, it was too nerve-wracking. No, scary and brain-numbing. The only thing I could think of was to stare right at the chocolate haired, white-faced, slightly freckly guy in white Converse sneakers. Who was staring straight up at the thunder and lightning ruling the sky as they took turns crackling and booming up a storm. Literally.

“Uh…” He stammered, attention glued to whatever was so freakish above us. “It…” A direct bolt of lightning struck and fried a bus station shelter and its bench. I gaped as the whole construction went from metal and plastic to complete charred ashes in a split-second. I inhaled. My boyfriend threw the walkie-talkie to the floor and dashed bravely—and maybe stupidly—over to me behind a counter with glass chemistry bottles. He grabbed my hand before I could hiss at him that he shouldn’t be risking his life for me, but he had this aura about him. I should just thank him in times like this one. Although the world had already come to an end, we two high school sweethearts were the only few teens left after a grossly large, mechanical alien spaceship-like thing evaporated downtown Eagle Wing High School without somehow taking all the students. We, desperate, tried to find other people who survived the attack. Mainly students—hopefully not middle or elementary school age. Actually, as we raced further downtown—past an abandoned hotdog stand and pizza parlor, a barber shop, a sizzled hamburger joint and a burning, smoking hair salon—Avery yanked my arm and reacted to my cry with a tight-lipped, white-faced stare back at me.

Let’s go! Hurry. His fear-streaked face had I’m really scared written all over it. I even gagged a little on my cough as I struggled to breathe. Apart from the gloom and doom happening right in front of us, the air itself was so thick with terror and wonder as to whether anyone was going to be alive on this planet much longer. We could all be evaporated in milliseconds. We could be that bench station or the hamburger joint. A loud siren blared, and red lights flashed warningly as we two made a mad dash around the corner, making a U-turn for a wall and then switching left for an open door. Avery pulled again, saying “Come on!” amidst lips barely moving from the obvious icy terror keeping them far from open. Entering a darkened, empty parking garage, Avery and I stood together, me about to ask what he was going to do to try to save himself from either shriveling up in total fear or brave his surroundings and look for ways to survive this nightmare of a reality.

My lips barely audible, I chanced it. “What are we going to do?” I ran my fingers through my silky, straightened black hair, my bangs getting pushed around my pierced ears. I played with my ponytail and then looked at him for an answer. He was my only protection. “I don’t know….” Icy fear had definitely started to cement his mouth closed. He almost started to freeze up, and I saw little beads of sweat form on his already creased forehead. I looked away, not wanting the terror to invade my brain and cause me to panic as well. I would be strong for him, for myself and for everyone else out there. I had to save us. I had to save everyone around us. Jerking over, I witnessed two silhouetted figures come running towards us. I squinted and saw that they were extremely dark skinned with flecks of tan around their wrists and elbows. A boy with curly brown hair was coming towards us and a girl—thin braids running from just above her forehead down to the beginning of her spine in her neck—was behind him. I watched the boy as he kept running and then felt the urge to save him. “No!” But he sprinted faster than I, my outstretched hands almost grasping his neon orange exercise shirt. Galloping after him, I yelled, “Stop!” He slowed to a jog, and I sprinted harder, catching up to him. “Hey!” But he darted off. “Mallory!” I whipped my head back—Avery was trying to save the girl now. I screeched to a halt, staring at her. She was sprinting in the opposite direction than us, down the sidewalk Avery and I had rushed down while escaping from the abandoned science laboratory. I then gaped in horror as she made a U-turn, heading for and then stopping right in the middle of the intersection. She was turning her head from one direction to another, her legs jerking each way like she was deciding whether to go down the street behind her or run towards the affixed stores. My attention went back to the boy. He was rounding a store corner, and then he was out of sight. I was frozen, and didn’t know what to do. Avery was calling to the girl, staying rooted to his spot but crying for her to listen to him. Then she bolted for the street. “No—girl!” I screamed as she made a mad dash right where a bolt of lightning was about to disintegrate another bus stop station. I lunged, without thinking, towards the lightning and then curled up, hearing Avery’s mad yell slur into blurred speech. A loud ringing in my ears distracted me. I lay in a ball, my jeaned knees and my chin glued to each other. Avery, sounding distant but also near, waved his arms, eyes open and flashing with terror. Shoes, up in the air, came soundlessly down onto the street. I saw, before fainting, a black shirt with a neon orange lightning bolt drawn on it… “Mmmm.” The groan—did it come from me? Then my eyes flashed open and I jerked upright the second I heard beeping. A press against my shoulder, and I looked into familiar eyes. Avery. But… “Where am I?” I moved around, trying to make sense of the long, extremely thin tubes and white patches stuck like tape to my skin. Why was a monitor beeping behind me? What were polka-dotted sheets doing covering my legs and hips? I hated any kind of resistance, so I ripped the blankets off and scooted myself towards the concrete floor. As I jumped off the raised bed, I swung around and glowered at Avery. “Why am I wired to this—” “Don’t!” He grabbed my other hand before I could tear the assumedly injected needle out of my wrist. “You can’t do that!” “Why?” I seethed through gritted teeth. “Where—am—I?” “You’re…” He stepped back, motioning with his palms up. “You’re in the hospital. I need to get you better. Some nurses will—” “I don’t want nurses. I want to stop…” I jerked my eyes all around, turning my body. “I want to get out of here. I don’t want anyone…” I started breathing deeply and then slowly crawled back into the bed and under the sheet. “I’m…tired.” I pulled it up to my hips until my arms went limp and I lay back, barely able to keep my eyes open. I yawned and heard, “There, there!” before all went dark again. “Mallory. Mallory!” I groaned again and blinked several times as blurriness cleared and Avery came into view. He was leaning over my bed, looking at me with a sad smile on his face. I instantly reverted to anger again, but apparently the stupid beeping machine didn’t allow me to do so. I clenched my hands, but they went weak and I had to rest them against the polka-dots. I attempted to curl my toes, but then they just stopped sensing the curl. What was going on? I widened my eyes and shook my head at Avery. “What’s going on?” I panicked, shifting so I could leave the bed—the hospital—If I had to. Because I had to. He sighed like he had told me a hundred times to just sit back and relax. “Mal, we’re here for several more weeks.” “Weeks?!” I began ripping the white tape off. As I tried to wrestle my clasped hand away from Avery’s clutching one and release myself from this dreaded needle pumping who knows what into me, I started feeling tired again. So weak and vulnerable. As I lay back, almost nauseated, I noticed everything was going dark again. The pillow cushioned my head… Then I bolted right up and blanched. “Who is taking care of us?” While Avery pressed that I should remain calm, I ignored him, stretching my neck and maneuvering my body all around so I could see the nurses—and whether they were legit people caring for the actually sick or injured patients. Narrowing my eyes at one curly-haired brunette in a white lab coat, I hissed at her. “Who is she?” Avery sighed and turned his head. “She’s just—” “How do we know?” “ I know because I talked to her. She’s the one who,” Avery turned to me but I narrowed my eyes into slits. “helped you get here.” I grumbled something and pulled my knees up to my chest, staying there. “At least you’re here.” “You can’t just—” “Just what?” I almost spazzed. “Just trust people when an apocalyptic future is already here? Just say ‘Okay’ to someone who could very well…” A nurse was arriving with some gross colored medicine and set it down on my bed in front of the footboard. “Just take the medicine?” Avery cut his eyes to the nurse. “Um…let’s continue this later.” He walked around and then held out the tray to me, which I completely smacked to the floor, all the medicine—or whatever it really was—crashing onto the tiled cement. Glass smashed and pills rolled everywhere. “Mallory!” Avery reprimanded, but I merely glanced at him like I was under severe medical treatment and couldn’t process his outburst. “Mallory, that’s—” “Drugs.” I croaked, turning to the nurse who was now doing something to my bed. “Get away from me.” “Jus—” But I whipped my hand towards her wrist, clutching it and ripping it clean off the bed handle. As Avery screamed at me to freaking stop attacking an innocent woman, I threw back that she was no ordinary nurse—why would she induce a needle that made me want to lay back and sleep when our very lives were at stake? I scrambled off the bed, the woman obviously too shocked to react past gasping, and I demanded Avery come with me. He burst out with an absolute “No!” “Yes!” I demanded, but Avery dug his sneakers in, firmly telling me through barely open lips that I needed to get my act together. I jabbed a finger in his face to let him know I was not going to marry such a stubborn man. I attempted grabbing his wrist again and it worked, him crying out with a squeak of pain and a harsh yell that I had hurt him.

You’re going to be hurt a lot worse if you don’t get out of here. Getting out of the door-less room and speeding down the hallway, I found ourselves outside, it still lightning and thundering, but hail pounded the sidewalk, driveway and cars parked a few feet away in the lot. “Let’s go!” I urged, freeing his arm and commanding Avery follow me this instant. “Mallory!” He pulled his long sleeved button shirt up over his head as he ran towards me, ordering me to follow him. Raging, I clenched my hands and almost screamed for him to follow me . He just kept running away, not even looking back. I escaped towards the right. Dodging the hailstones that seemed to get bigger as I moved along, I found a lone umbrella and stole it, opening it up and using it to shield myself from the now really big ones about to squash me flat. I squeezed my eyes shut but kept running and somehow avoided them. Baffled as to why I wasn’t getting pummeled, I heard distant laughter and dared to look back. Some nurses in my now windowless and darkened hospital room looked my way. One of them shifted her eyes between me and the glowing computer screen. The light lit up all their faces, and I shivered, wanting to leave this horrible place called Earth forever. I heard another noise and peered in the direction in which Avery had left me. He was standing there, and I felt his visual direction on me. He was beckoning me on, waving frantically. Something like “Come on!” flew through the air and entered my eardrums. I nodded, grateful and relieved, and ran over there. He let the shirt go, swinging out an arm as I held the umbrella over us and continued running, his feet almost in step with mine. I told him about what I had seen in the hospital room with the computer screen and the creepy nurses, but he just kept repeating “Stop it!” as we headed downtown, just racing through the two-lane highway and making it to an empty barber’s shop. No, it was unsafe. We knocked our way through the backdoor and ran towards who knew where. When we managed to find a trailer park, we just busted into a home and shut the door, me wanting to cry from how hopeless and weak we were in the middle of a life that was out of our hands and, worse, never-ending. We didn’t want it, but we somehow had to survive such a sign of the end of the world. After shutting all windows and barricading all doors, we scrambled into the booth seats, sitting across from one another. We started discussing our map of escape. Where’d we go was out of the question. Spying a backpack lying near a bed, Avery jumped up and grabbed it, slamming it down onto the table. “Here’s what we do.” He rummaged through and grabbed two pencils and a big notebook. He tossed me a pencil, which I caught, and flipped the notebook to a blank page. Stabbing the paper with his pencil, like a military commander he started drawing an outline of our town. “But how do you know…” I sat up straight and looked at his crude pictures of a park, our high school and its baseball field a little ways off. “where we need to go?” “That’s the question we need to find out.” He looked at me as though he knew I wasn’t sure whether we could pull this escape plan off. “Okay?” “Yeah.” I doubted. “Mal, we’re running for our lives!” He stated the obvious. “What’s a map going to do?” I grabbed the book and tossed it on the ground. “How are we going to escape with our lives by wasting—” “Mallory, do you want to survive?” He gesticulated, but I calmly remarked back. “I would like to figure it all out instead of having no idea where we are going. We can’t just guess. We need—” “A map?” Avery stabbed the sheet of paper after collecting it from the floor and dropped it, open, onto the table. “We need to do this.” He continued sketching some things as I pulled my knees up to my chest. I watched him draw and doodle some more and asked, “Why didn’t the hailstones hit us?” “You tell me.” Avery didn’t look up from his map-drawing. “What did you—” “The computer screen. The nurses must’ve been controlling…” Avery slowly looked up at me, and we widened our eyes. “The weather!” We realized in unison. “Is this some kind of game?” He panicked, seeming to abandon the map, because he reached over to peel back the curtain with a shaking finger. As he looked outside, he jerked back but told me to watch as the hailstones grew to almost thrice their size but disappeared like in a video game. Lightning struck somewhere far off, its loud crackle illuminating the almost dark sky. “They’re not hitting us. So we don’t have to worry about them.” I deduced, but Avery looked at me like there was a bigger problem. “But can they control us ?” He worried, pulling his lips in and studying the outside again. I gave a fear-filled laugh. “No. They’re just nurses.” “Just nurses.” Avery bobbed his head up and down, already shaking a little and rubbing the back of his neck. “Just plain nurses. You think that tells us something?”


Where to begin my story? It seems like that everything crumbled within a month. I lost my job. I lost my wife. I lost my house. I lost my friend.

I met my wife when I was twenty years old when I was in my first year in engineering. My God. I still remember when she entered the class. She was on crutches with her school back on her back, and holding a binder in her hands. It was love at first sight for me. Not for her though. I had to courtship her for maybe weeks, months…but then we became soulmates.

My wife, Sonia, came up to me today, just out of the blue, told me that it was over. She mentioned that the problem was not me, it was her. That famous line ‘’it’s not you, it’s me!’’. When I tried to make her talk, to give me more details, she would not divulge more explanations. Briefly, she just told me that she met this guy from her work place and that they are in love. Ten years of marriage, no kids though, but were preparing that phase of our lives, and she tells me she loves someone else. She did not provide me with any details on what I did not do or what I did do…

A week later, my boss comes up to me, and announces me that the company is resizing. One third of the staff was to be let go and I was part of that group of employees that will be laid off. I had been working for the same company since my graduation. It was heart tearing feeling. I had tears in my eyes and I did my best to hide them till I was out in the parking lot beside my car. I was standing with my personal belongings in a box. Looking one more time to the prestigious building where I worked and managed many projects. I made some great friends here. All this gone in a flash…

Talking about great friends, one of them, from my job, became one of my best buddies. When you have the same passion, working for the same company, towards same career goals, it forges a tight bond. My friend Cedrick was a civil engineer. We worked on lot of assignments together. After my wife, he was the one I would confine the most. After we both lost our jobs, Cedrick had been chatting on a dating site with this woman from Panama for a year. He told me that this was a sign. He went to visit her for a month, six months ago. He told me he was in love and he was into her. This was a perfect time to go visit her. He mentioned that doing a minor in Spanish when he was in University did not go to waste. He has a job interview at an engineering firm the day after he lands in Panama. If all goes well, he intends to extend his stay. That woman she met, she is beautiful and she seems a person with a good heart. I am happy for him but I lost Sonia and now Cedrick.

The house that Sonia and I bought some years back, is now on sale. I did not want to sale the house, but she wants her share of the house by selling it. She wants nothing to do with me. I understand that we are in the process of divorcing and she wants to settle everything and start her new life with her new beau. I am still trying to grasp what did I do wrong to deserve this.

I am guessing that within a few days or weeks, the house sale will be finalized. I will get half of the money from it. That half, might not be enough to buy myself a new house. The housing market is soaring and our salaries are not increasing at the same rate. I do have some savings but most of them are locked in in my pension funds. And, currently, I am with no work…

Almost a month later, since Sonia told me she was leaving me, and I am jobless, friendless, with no woman in my life, and feel powerless with less financial stability. As I am doing some cleaning in the house, I stumble on a binder regarding a class I took as an elective in finance. Well, it was more about a class about cryptocurrency. I learned a lot from professor Dick Van James. I would call him Dr. James. This guy was the person that was able to Micky Mouse it so I can understand the world of the cryptocurrency. I got a fever about Bitcoin but did not invest that much as the price of one Bitcoin was close to $62,000. During this one class, Dr. James told us to come to class with our personal laptops so we can setup an account on a reliable and safe exchange. Moreover, suggested to order a physical wallet. He showed us on how to invest in Bitcoin. How deposit from your bank account to the exchange, on how to withdraw when ready to cash out, on how to send the funds to our wallets so that we don’t trust all the time the exchange’s website security, and on how to send back from our wallets to the exchange.

This class, changed my life in a good way because I remember the professor saying that you can either do day trading which requires lot of time, patience and knowledge of the crypto markets, or let it go, and come back check your total assets accumulated over time. There were a few low-cost cryptos out there. One of them was called SafeMoon.

SafeMoon came out if I remember correctly in March 2021. I bought some of it. The price of one SafeMoon coin was back then $0.000001279. This was purchased in mid-April 2021. I withdrew the money then from the exchange and kept it on my external physical wallet.

Now, the million-dollar question is, how much is it worth? Today, in 2031, I see that Bitcoin is at a million bucks. My God! How come I did no check this before. I think I had bought maybe 0.02 of a Bitcoin back then. That is still a good 20k! Not bad. Safemoon, I invested back in 2021. Let me Google that now. Is this possible? The coin is at $1.00 and I bought for 10 million coins! Hallelujah!!! My God! There is a God!

I am keeping my mouth shut. Let me wait for the divorce to be finalized. I bought this crypto even before I met Sonia. And she is the one leaving me today. If she comes after me, I will be ready with a ferocious financial lawyer.

The month started like I was in hell, and it ended me being on the moon. A safe moon…


Mom’s picking me up from school instead of the bus. I got a note from the office an hour before dismissal that said so. I couldn’t pay attention all through silent reading time, but that’s okay, I usually can’t anyway. I run to her side of the car and fling my arms around her before she can bend down. She squeezes me back with one arm and combs my head with her nails. If I don’t pull away, she’ll maybe never let go. “I’m so happy to see you,” she brushes her hair out of her face. It’s longer and turns blonde at the bottom. I wriggle into the back of the car and the seat squeaks as I try to get comfortable. Mom turns on the AC. It didn’t used to work, and we had to roll the windows down and it was too noisy to talk without shouting. But now I pull my shirt away from my armpits and cool off. It’s cleaner now too—there aren’t any bottles or crumpled-up papers to roll around my feet. It still smells like old cigarettes though, but I kind of like it because it smells like her. I put my backpack on the seat next to me and buckle the belt across it. “I wanted to spend some time together,” she smiles at me in the rearview mirror, “How about we go get some ice cream?” “Awesome!” I try not to yell, but I flap my hands a little because I can’t help it. Today couldn’t get any better. Dad would be so upset. He always got mad with Mom for ordering fast food when he worked late, but those were the best dinners. Since she left, he’s been making us eat healthier. Too many veggies that taste like farts. Yuck. I like that Mom and I have this secret to keep from him—it makes me feel sneaky, but in a fun way, like trying to stay up late on Christmas Eve even though I’m not supposed to. “Was Dad excited to see you?” “I didn’t stop by to see your father.” I don’t like it when she calls Dad ‘your father’. She does that when she’s mad at him. I guess they’re still fighting. Right before Mom left again, they got into a big argument with lots of yelling. But that was forever ago. I can’t imagine being mad for that long—how exhausting. I wish they would just make up already. “We don’t need him to have a good time,” she shrivels up her nose. “It can be our little secret.” I don’t know why they’re so mean to each other now. I hope they don’t start yelling when we get back from ice cream. . Except Mom drives past Twin Kiss. We always go there at the end of the school year or when I get a good grade on a test. It’s attached to a diner and it has records on the walls and it smells like chicken tenders and they have the best soft serve. But Mom keeps driving. “Mom, you missed it.” She doesn’t respond, then rattles her head. “We’ll stop somewhere with a drive-through.” I twist around to watch the building shrink. Why’s she want to do a drive-through instead of getting our special corner booth? “Are you back for real this time?” “Yes, hun. Of course.” I want to be happy but part of me doesn’t believe her. Dad said that she was gone for good. But, I fought him on it because I knew she would be back. I can’t wait to say told you so. . I want to play I-Spy, but there isn’t much to point out since we left the main part of the city. Only fields on either side of the highway. ‘Red barn’ would be too obvious. I pull out my notebook and pencil from my bag and flip to the back pages to doodle. We finally reach the next town and pull into a gas station that the ice cream shop is attached to. The gas smell makes me a little nauseous, but that can’t stop me from wanting ice cream. The illuminated menu board is dazzling. The voice over the intercom takes Mom’s order, low and monotone and drawing out the ends of his sentences. “Liam, what do you want?” “Vanilla and— I can’t decide.” They have so many toppings! M&Ms or cookies or gummy worms— “Pick something.” “Gummy worms,” I say without thinking. I don’t like deciding under pressure. The menu screen changes to display a sundae with gooey brownies. That would taste so much better! I almost ask Mom if I can change my mind, but I don’t want to upset her. Baby hairs cling to her forehead and she fans herself with her wallet. There are dark spots under her arms, even though the AC is on full blast. Hopefully the ice cream will cool her off. * I had to get it in a cup instead of a cone so it wouldn’t be messy in the car. But as we keep driving, I get some on my shirt anyway. I try rubbing it off, but it’s getting too dark to see if I got all of it. I scrape the bottom of the cup and eat the final gummy worm I saved for last. Instead of chewing it, I let it dissolve on my tongue so it lasts longer. Mom’s is still sitting in the cup holder, getting all melty. She doesn’t eat and drive because that’s being responsible. She has both hands tightly gripping the wheel but keeps stretching her fingers and chewing at her nails. She still hasn’t turned around to go back home. “Mom, where are we going?” She jumps like I surprised her. It’s been quiet since I was eating, so I guess my voice scared her. She swerves back into place. “I wanted to take you,” she drums her fingers on the steering wheel, “show you where I’ll be staying.” “I have school tomorrow.” “You don’t have to go. This’ll be a mini vacation—no school, no meetings. Freedom. Just the two of us.” This day just keeps getting better! First mom, then ice cream, now no school. I bounce up and down in my seat. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about where Mom was while she was away. Dad said it was somewhere nice with lots of friendly people, but he sounded like when he told me that Cooper was going to live on a nice big farm now. He wouldn’t tell me where it was or why I couldn’t visit. But I liked to think of it as nice anyway. A big fancy hotel with a huge chandelier in the lobby, and butlers in suits with a towel over their arm who bring lobster up to your room, which has the biggest bed in it. Mom frowns, her eyebrows pushing together. Maybe she’s trying to contain her excitement in the way grown-ups do. But I think that some of my excitement is rubbing off on her. She looks like she just drank a whole cup of coffee. . “How much longer?” “It’ll still be a little while. You can sleep in the car tonight. Then we won’t have to drive tomorrow too.” I didn’t know it was so far away. I wish we had stopped at home first so I could have brought a game. “I can’t sleep in the car.” I’ve tried to before—every time Dad took me on camping trips to the mountains. Last time, we prepared and brought a pillow and blanket for me to have in the backseat. It still didn’t work. “Please just try.” “I can’t,” I say again. It’s not about trying, it’s about not being able to. She should know this. Dad would know. “Liam, I really don’t want to stop and stay here through the night.” “Why?” She inhales loudly through her nose, smiles, and her voice goes high like she’s talking to a puppy, “Don’t you want to wake up and already be somewhere new? On vacation? A fresh start.” “This is already a bad vacation. I want to go home,” I pout. It’s true. I wish Dad had come with us. I want to sleep in a bed. The cigarette smell is making my nose itchy. I rub my eyes. “I shouldn’t have given you all that sugar,” she mumbles to herself. Now she sounds like Dad. “Fine, we’ll find somewhere to stay for the night.” . Mom pulls in at the glowing motel sign. After we get out of the car, she cups both my ears and tilts my head up so I look her in the eyes. They look like they haven’t blinked in a long time. “Behave yourself, ok? Don’t draw too much attention.” Mom opens the trunk, which is Jenga’d with luggage and labeled boxes. I didn’t know she had all this stuff back here. She grabs a duffle bag from the top of the tower, and nothing falls over. We go in through the big glass doors on the first floor. One of the overhead lights is out, and light spills into the dim lobby from a vending machine. The lady at the front desk has a nose ring like a bull and a spiky necklace. She doesn’t look like she’ll bring lobster up to our room. She sends us back outside and around the corner to a room with only one bed. It’ll be okay because it’s big enough for both of us, and Mom doesn’t snore like Dad does. Across from the bed, a dresser acts as a TV stand. I plop down in front of it. From her duffle bag, Mom pulls out a toothbrush, a hairbrush, and a pair of pajama pants. “I’m going to get ready for bed,” she nods toward the bathroom. She grabs the remote from the dresser and hands it to me. “Here, you can put on whatever you like.” I squirm under the covers. I wish I had pajama pants too instead of having to sleep in jeans. * I wake up and Mom isn’t in bed. Maybe she thinks the sheets are stiff and itchy too.  On TV, an anchor in a tie speaks into the camera, but it’s turned all the way down. The bathroom door is closed, with a sliver of light leaking out beneath it. I can hear her voice from inside, but not the words that she’s saying. I sneak over in the dark and press my ear against the door. . “It’s already on the news.” I look back at the TV. There’s a woman in a floral dress sweeping her arms across a map of the country, guiding a storm. “Mel, you have to help me—No, I’m sober.” She points to the growing blotch as it turns deep red. Her teeth are overly white, and her dark hair turns blonde at the bottom. I watch her as Mom speaks. “I can’t take him back. The cops will be there. I can’t go to jail—I can’t lose him.” The lady disappears. The map takes up the whole screen and is painted in blues and magenta. The headline text box warns of Flash Flooding. “No, please. You don’t have to get involved, okay? Just help me think of something. No, Mel, please—” . It’s silent. I don’t back away from the door. I want her to keep going and explain what’s wrong. Why would there be police? “Mom,” I whisper into the door. She drops something and curses. “Are we in trouble?” She opens the door and wipes her face. “Oh, Liam, I’m sorry. We’re ok. What did you hear? We’re ok.” She holds her arms open, but I don’t want to hug her. “I want to go home.” I look down at her feet for a long time. I don’t know what her face is doing, but I don’t want to know because her voice is all thick and wobbly. “Okay, Liam. Let’s get you home.” And I watch her feet step around me.


On the Island of Fae, there is a legend. A tale of darkness, before man came to Earth, and faerie to Fae. The world was divided between light and darkness, heaven and hell, miracles and death. The Seven Lively Ones, Humble, Charity, Abundance, Generosity, Modest, Kindness, and Patience, ruled the heavenly realms along with their king, Erebus. And the Seven Deadly Sins, Pride, Greed, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Wrath, and Sloth ruled hell, with their queen, Nyx. They were demons, they roamed the night, squandering and stealing all hope. For they are the true creatures we are afraid of in the darkness. The reason why young children are afraid of the dark is because their eyes are younger and see darkness for what it really was: a demon lurking in every corner. Each of these angels or demons had a powerful artifact that brought untold joy or destruction to the middle realms: Earth and Fae. The demons constantly spread their chaos and destruction throughout the sister realms, creating havoc wherever they went. The angels took great joy in spreading the happiness they felt. But one day, the demons conferred secretly with their queen. "Nyx, we must attack. Those blasted angels beat us every time we battle. They are too strong, love ... is too strong." "Hmm..." Said the young queen said, clearly bored. "Yes, we must attack." The only thing unsaid was the revenge she hoped to get on the leader of the angels. And so they did. The demons entered the angel's realm and began to attack with all their might. The angels stormed out of the palace toward the demons with their magical artifacts in hand. Nyx ran into the heavenly, glittering gold palace of the angels, in search of Erebus. "Sister, what are you doing, here?" A voice asked. It was Erebus. He was standing near a large window at the end of the main hall, wearing a long, glistening golden cloak. "You were banished to that place. How did you get out?" Nyx swished across the floor in a black dress with glistening stars on it. "Oh, Brother, you really should know me better. When was it ever like me to follow stinky rules?" She flipped her thick black hair over her shoulder. Erebus' face contorted with anger. "Go, take your devils and leave before we destroy you." Nyx laughed hysterically. "Oh, pa-lease! Tell me, who is winning, out there?" Erebus slumped in disappointment. It was true. The demons were winning. "Sister, hell has made you bitter." Nyx's eyes flashed with anger. "Bitter?" She asked angrily. "Oh no, I am more then bitter, brother. You tricked me into going down there thinking I was going to a party. You know how I feel about being tricked and fooled. And now you shall feel my wrath." "I did what was best for all of the realms." Erebus said, ignoring his sister's threat. "You were becoming greedy and vain. You were a pathetic excuse for a queen or a princess." Nyx snorted. "What makes a pathetic excuse for a monarch is love . It makes us do unrealistic sacrifices and goals. That is why I should be queen of the world. I will not act out of love." "But you will act out of anger." Erebus responded. "You will kill anyone who acts for anything." At this, Nyx lunged to Erebus, narrowing her eyes. She waved a bony hand at her brother, slamming him against the wall. He struggled, determined to get free, but to no avail, the magic around him was just too strong. "Kill me." He said. "I would rather be dead then see you use your pathetic ruling over these realms." Nyx smiled. "I would gladly kill you." Erebus closed his eyes, awaiting his death, and hoping it would be quick. Nyx raised her hands and Erebus disappeared in a cloud of yellow-gold sparkles. Nyx smiled a dreadful, icy smile. "Finally, after all these years! I've-" And she disappeared the same as Erebus, but in a shimmery black cloud of dust, for there can be no darkness without light, and Erebus had been the physical form of light. Outside, the fighting angels and demons all came to a stop, except for two: Wrath and Patience. For they both knew that they should obey their masters' wishes, even in death. Many of the angels, desiring to accompany their king to the afterlife turned into dust and followed the cloud of gold up to the sun. The demons, wanting the same, turned into sparkles as well. All except Wrath and Patience. For Wrath needed to defeat all that was left of his enemy, and Patience knew that all good things would come to those who waited, and she was determined to stick to that philosophy. Patience, tightly grabbing her Chalice of Gracious, which magically filled with water. Whenever one of her enemy's were splashed with the water, they would be stuck for time and all eternity. Wrath, gripping his icy spear that fulfilled the will of its owner. He thrust it at Patience's middle at the same time she spilled water over the weapon. He quickly halted his jab and gave Patience a death stare. "Ha! Take that, demon!" She said triumphantly, smiling. But it was not meant to last. As the last of her kind, she was deeply sad, but glad knowing that she was doing her king a great service. Unfortunately, Wrath just smiled as droplets of Patience's miracle water dripped to the ground. Patience hefted her chalice higher at the same time Wrath stabbed with his spear. Their weapons clashed, sending out a wave of unstoppable pain, happiness, anger, kindness, all the emotions on either of the sister realms of Earth and Fae. And as for the angel's and demons artifacts, they fell to either of the realms. In fact, the artifacts still work, their enchantments stronger then any magic in the modern world. Still, the Island of Fae doesn't know what or where the demons may be lurking. It's possible that they may be in any corner of the sister realms.


You were living life like she never existed. Like she was only a fragment of your imagination. You acted like you never knew her. Like she didn’t matter to you. All because you thought she didn’t. You wanted to move on. You needed to. “What are you staring at?” Your girlfriend asks you as you looked towards the mountains. “Nothing, babe. The mountains are just pretty, that’s all. But it doesn’t compare to you.” That was true. Your girlfriend is stunning. But you miss her. She, who always occupies your thoughts. You wonder where she is and how she’s doing. But you can’t tell that to Brooke. “Come on, Aster. Let's go. I have my shift and yours is in 30.” You walk with her to McDonalds, where she works. She pulls your hand, dragging you there. She takes her place behind the counter, and you get in line to order. You order your favorite double cheeseburger with fries and iced caramel latte. When you finish eating, you go over to Brooke, give her a small kiss, and leave to go to Starbucks. You finish your shift and meet with your friends for a night of binge-watching 13 Reasons why, chosen by none other than Brooke. You hate it, but you will do anything to please her and make her happy. But, on the way to her house, you notice something. You notice someone staring at you, someone you recognize. You see your ex, Destiny Hale. She’s wearing glasses and smiling at you from across the street. Next to her is someone else you recognize. She points to you and whispers something to Destiny, who nods. You shake your head, thinking you imagined the whole thing and that it was a mirage. After all, it was summer. You look again to where you imagined Destiny and the other girl. When you don’t see them again, you shrug and keep walking. The next day, you are tired. You stayed up past three am with Brooks and the others, and now you have to work the morning shift. Everyone’s going to be coming in and they need you to work. You get dressed and hop in your car. You walk inside Starbucks when you notice them again. Destiny and that other one. Then it hits you. Estelle Meyner, the richest person in all Kossland. What is she doing here? And with Destiny? You ponder. Once again you shake your head to clear your thoughts and once again they’re gone. You see Destiny again and again throughout the week, but every time it’s only for a few seconds. Sometimes she’s with Estelle, but sometime’s she’s alone. You keep ignoring it as a figment of your imagination. Until today. You’re walking from McDonald's to Starbucks like you always do, and there she is. You shake your head and blink, expecting her to disappear like she always seems to do. But she doesn’t. She’s still there. You thought she was dead but there she is, right in front of you on the street, smiling at you. “Destiny?” You utter, just loud enough for her to hear you. “Yes, Aster. It’s me.” You stare at her in complete disbelief. “But I thought you died over a year ago!” Congratulations, you have succeeded to angering her. A dumb decision on your part to say that. “Did Brooke think so?” She says. “What does Brooke have to do with this?” You’re confused. She repeats herself, slow and loud. “Did. Brooke. Think. SO?!” “Well, yes.” “Did she say so first?” Why is she bringing my girlfriend into the conversation? You think. “Umm. Ya.” “That’s the problem solved then. You never have your own thoughts, only follow Brooke around like a little puppy dog.” Her voice was sounded strained and was coated with sarcasm. “Don’t get me wrong, Aster. Brooke is a lovely girl and I’m a hard girl. They kicked me out of Ameil but then I helped Estelle who you must have seen with me. Here I am, alive and with sight, getting my degree in psychology at Havensheild university.” She throws all her accomplishments at you because she knows that you care. She knows that if you didn’t care a bit about her, you would have ignored her and gone for your shift. Which you are late for as she points out just then. You go, but invite her for some coffee, which she readily accepts. “The coffee in Keimel doesn’t taste as good as the coffee here. How have I been surviving?” She comments as you get her favorite coffee. “No idea,” you grumble to which she shoots you an annoyed look. You watch her sit down at a table and forget your other customers. One of them calls you, snapping you back to reality. “Can I get a pumpkin spiced latte?”

You finish your shift and rush out. Instead of going back to McDonald's or to someone’s house, you go to Destiny’s parent’s house. They let you in and answer all your questions with more politeness than you’ve ever seen from them. You find that Destiny got surgery after saving Estelle Meyner’s life. She is, in fact, studying at Havensheild and she is very much alive. You notice some truth in Destiny’s words about you following Brooke. She is an amazing person; you admit to yourself as you leave and head home. She always has the best opinions and always kind to everyone. Well, not always Destiny. Brooke was originally a rebound girl after you broke up with Destiny. But it stuck. Since your junior year of high school until now, five years later and the summer before she goes away to college. Havensheild, just like Destiny, but for interior design. Something she’s always wanted to do. So, she’s always been slightly jealous of Destiny. “Which explains the rumor about death,” you mumble to yourself. That night as you lay in bed, you think about the two girls. You know that you still care about Destiny. And Brooke. Two of the best people on the face of this earth. You don’t know what to do. If you tell Brooke that Destiny is here and not a zombie, she will go borderline mad. Okay, maybe she’s more than just jealous. What happened between those two? You recall that they were friends up till seventh grade and were practically attached at the hip. Always talking, laughing, and giggling. Why do they hate each other now?

Focus: Brooke “Aster, who or what are you looking for?” You say as you notice your boyfriend’s eyes constantly scanning everything. “Destiny.” He mumbles under his breath, probably thinking you wouldn’t notice it. “She’s dead, Aster. Move on.” You say, your annoyance building up. “Ya, but I was kinds hoping she wasn’t, and that she decided to come back. I miss how we used to hang out.” He replies. You take him by the shoulders and turn him to face you. “Stop being delusional. Come on, let’s go!” You’re confused. He hadn’t so much as brought up her name for four years at least. Why did he care so much now? Was she really back?! Could it be possible she survived these whole 14 months? You do some snooping around once Aster left. You go to Starbucks first, since you know that Destiny loved that place and ask a cashier if he saw Destiny at all recently. When he didn’t know who she was, you decide that he must be new in town and had come only within the last 14 months. Else he would know her. Everyone in Ameil did. Discouraged, you visit the three hotels in town and ask the receptionists if anyone with her description had come recently. At the last one, there was a ‘yes’. It was a fancy hotel, far more expensive than a blind beggar would have been able to afford. Or even her parents, if she asked them for money. You visit her room under the guise of her best friend paying a visit. But then you discover then she’s not there. Your mind’s made up that Destiny must not be there, but you check one more place. Just her parent’s house. If anyone knew if she was in town, it would be them. They deny knowing if she was there or not, but her mother’s eyes keep sparking, the way yours does when you talk about Aster. This piques your interest and your resolve and determination to find her grows stronger. You look all over town before you glance at the sky while answering a phone call, a habit of yours. You instantly remember that she liked to visit the mountain every time she could, under the pretext that her sight would return, a silly girlish hope of hers. You jump in your car and head there. But something stops you just before you reach the edge of town. Destiny never did anything to you. She was an amazing person, but she got your boyfriend before you did, even when she knew that you liked him back in eighth grade. She never wanted to talk about boys, because she couldn’t see how cute they were. But, you remember, you were the one to leave her. As soon as she and Aster weren’t a thing, you went to him and comforted him.  Actually, it was even before that. You truly left her that day in freshman year when she asked you to tell her what was on the board in the classroom. Your mind started racing. She was already allowed to bring her laptop to class since she needed to record her notes. She was already allowed to have extra time to complete her exams and someone to write them for her. She had ears, wasn’t that good enough for her? There were people who were blind and deaf. Did she not realize that? She had so much, you thought, and yet she asks for my help. She never even helped me, you lied to yourself. You instantly went to sit somewhere else, but she notices and well, you’ve hated her since. Yet, you don’t go forward. It would prove your fears right, that he still loves her. Then what would you do? If she was really there, would you have to convince him it was only a dream and if she’s not, that it was his imagination? You have noticed how he listens to everything you say, but this would take it too far. You may hate her, but you can’t hurt her. You still decide to go see. And Lo-and-behold! There she is, your old friend and boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend, Destiny Hale. She’s there with someone you don’t recognize at first but then realizes that it’s Estelle Meyner, the richest person in Kossland. They seem to be in a deep conversation so you decide not to interrupt them but quietly get out of your car and eavesdrop on them. You can’t hear everything they say but can make yours, Aster’s and his friend, Tyler’s names in the conversation. You keep trying to listen to them, when they abruptly get up and notice you. “Booke? What are you doing here?” You stumble over your words and start twirling your hair. Your cheeks turn red and you wish that you had never tried to eavesdrop. Destiny and Estelle move closer to you are that only heightens your embarrassment. “She’s Brooke, Aster’s girlfriend, right?” Destiny nods to Estelle. “I came here to see if you were here. I just came and was about to come over and say hi,” You lie. “No, that’s not what you did. You’re lying, Brooke,” Destiny says You’re shocked. How would she have known? Only your close friends and family knew that your eyes move around every time you lied. But there was no way for Destiny to know that because she never saw that. “No, I’m not lying. It’s the truth.” She just shakes her head sadly. “There, again. Your voice becomes just slightly more high- pitched when you lie. Now, I’m not saying that you did anything wrong. Maybe just listen to our conversation, but you probably did that because of Aster. You wanted to see if I was alive, didn’t you? You wanted to prove your fears wrong that I was here.” “I’d better go,” Estelle says. “I have to head back to Keimel tonight for an important meeting and you know how long it takes to get to Everton. Bye, D” Estelle waves to her and goes away. “Can you come with me, maybe?” You ask Destiny. “Sure.” The two of you get into your car and you drive mindlessly. “Where are we going?” Destiny asks you. “Nowhere. This is just a lot to process at once.” “I shouldn’t be here.” She says. “This is for you and Aster to do together. The two of you should decide what to do about me, now that you know I never died.” “Ok, I’ll drop you off where ever you want me to. But first, how are you friends with Estelle Meyner?! And how are you able to see?” She tells you the entire story. “Wait, a minute. You. Go. To Havensheild?!” You ask. “Umm, ya. Is that a bad thing?” “No, no at all.” You drop her off at her hotel and immediately call Aster to meet you at your house. Focus: Aster “Soo Destiny’s not dead.” Brooke starts the conversation. “Wait, you accept that?” You stutter in disbelief. “I did some searching of my own and now I know. How she saved Estelle Meyner and how she’s studying at Havensheild.” She says looking down. You lift her head up to find her eyes red. “Baby, what’s wrong?” You ask, brushing the hair from her face. “It’s just that I made some poor decisions as a teen and those decisions reflected on the people I love most, like you and Destiny. I know now that you still love her. I know now that for every time you cried and I helped, there was internal crying years later. Just like Newton’s third law, if you want it in science terms instead. I know now that Destiny did nothing wrong to me and I was wrong to her.” She puts her head down again and silent tears stream across her face. “Brooke, you healed me in a way no one else ever could. Because of that, I no longer love her and I love you instead. Just like the third law of physics, in you want it in scientific terms.” She lets out a half sob, half-laugh. You know that you lied. You know that you want to be with Destiny, to wrap her in your arms, and to protect her from anything. And she would protect you back. “You’re lying. Aster I love you too much to see you hurt. Go, go to Destiny. She deserves someone like you after how much she’s done. And you deserve her. Someone with her kindness and wit. Strength and humor. If you ever come to love me, I will be waiting. I’ve spent all my life pining for you, and I won’t be able to get anyone else. But forget about me and go get the girl you want before she believes that you’ve truly moved on. I have haunted your brain for six years. It will be hard for me to move on, but I can if I know that you’re happy.” You shed some tears as well and give her one big hug. “Brooke,” You say. “You’ve known Tyler for years, as long as D has.” She laughs and says bye. You leave and head over to.... Wait, you don’t know where. Taking out your phone, “Hi Destiny. Could you meet me at the mountain?” She agrees and you both go there. It’s almost midnight now and the two of you are tired but go anyway. “I’m sorry, Destiny. Truly, I am.” You say. “Sorry for what?” “For leaving you all those years ago. I never really wanted to, but I knew I couldn’t live with trying all my life. I was heartbroken for months and I guess I still am, unless you’d take me back.” “Woah, whoa, what about Brooke?” “She’s the one who asked me to leave her and come to you.” She grabs your hand and pulls you to the top. Still clutching your hand, she sits down and motions for you to do the same. You sit down and you automatically relax. She then let’s go of your hand and turns to face you. Your heart is beating oddly fast and you fear what she’ll say. “I never helped you or did anything to you. Why am I so special and important to you?” Your eyes widen. You can’t fathom why she said that. Doesn’t she know how she saved you after your brother and mother died? Doesn’t she know that because she could never see your expressions, she always made you happy? Doesn’t she know how you could always be yourself around her and she made you want to be better than yourself? How doesn’t she know that she is the most amazing girl on the planet? You tell her all this and she cries. “Don’t cry, what happened?” You ask, rubbing her back. “I thought no one could ever love an ex blind person like me.” “Well, guess what?” You laugh. “I do.” She half sobs, half laughs and leans into you. You can feel the smile spreading across your face as you stand up with her and walk down.


What a great deal ! I couldn’t believe my luck when they accepted my offer. The house had been on the market for ages and I felt the seller just wanted someone to take it off his hands. There was a lot of work to be done. It was a wonder the thing was still standing but I didn’t care. That was my job, buy old neglected houses, restore them and sell them. I wasn’t surprised when the creaking wooden door almost got out of its hinges when I opened it. The old furniture was still there under a thick layer of dust. No electricity anymore of course, but the windows were wide and tall so after opening the heavy curtains, the sunlight came streaming in revealing a cosy interior even though I could see it had been abandoned for decades. I went in every room to open the curtains and try to evaluate what could be kept or sold… It looked like the previous owners had left everything behind. The kitchen was outdated but I could tell already that there were a lot of valuable items in the living room. There wasn’t much to throw away. I went upstairs and into the first room on the left. There, the bed was still made. A room frozen in time. The bed looked sturdy, plain wood as was the bedside table. The second room was probably a home office. As was the case for the furniture in the bedroom, the desk was plain oak. I wondered if I would keep it for myself when I felt a light, cold breeze on my neck. The windows were closed. But I noticed there was a hatch on the ceiling. The attic hadn’t been mentioned in the house description. I decided to peek inside now that the sun was still up. In an hour or so it would be dark and I’d have to call it a day. I opened the hatch and had to pull hard on the ladder but I managed and went carefully upstairs. Dust and boxes everywhere. My attention was drawn to a cardboard box because it was the only one labelled. “Personal documents” it read. I didn’t get any information about the previous owner so I must confess I was curious. I opened it and found neatly arranged paperwork and also an old battered notebook. The first page had been left blank but on the second, I understood it was a diary. “February the 28th, 2000” was carefully written at the top of the page. February the 28 th , 2000 I find myself in a playground. I look around. Kids are running, playing, shouting. I can't hear them. The silence is unsettling. I start walking. What am I doing here? I see that child, standing still in the distance. He doesn't play, doesn't shout. The other children twirl close by without even noticing him. I get closer and as I do, my fear becomes unbearable. Bowels twitching, hands trembling, soul shaking. The silence gets so thick you could touch it. Sweat stings my eyes. “ Don't get close! Go away!”, the warning comes from inside my head, but my feet keep going nonetheless. Just a few feet away now. Three... two... one. He's turned away. I can't see his face. Is he crying? His shoulders are shaking, he's looking down, but in this reality I am deaf. I need to see... I’m revolving around him. I turn and turn around him but can only see his back. “ Don't touch him! ” pleads the voice in my mind. I put a hand on his shoulder and try to make him face me. Is it laughing? This thing has no face! Just charcoal hair surrounding a clump of meat and a mouth with no lips. I stumble back and try to run away but he grabs me! His claws are shredding my chest as two rows of sharp teeth burrow deep in my throat ! Somebody's screams woke me up with a jolt... Mine. I didn’t want to consult a psychiatrist at first. But then, I couldn’t keep living on sleepless nights forever. I was exhausted, depressed, desperate. Most of all, terrified. I talked to this Dr Stegman about this nightmare. The first of a long series. He asked me from then on to write them down each time they occur so we can discuss them during our next session. That was something to give you goose bumps... It actually made me jumpy. No wonder the guy went to a shrink ! There were many other entries but the light had dimmed so I put it back in the box and took the whole thing with me, planning to continue reading it at home. I had a last look around the house and left. I would come back in the morning, there would be plenty of time to sort the contents of the house. I wanted it empty sooner than later, to start the renovations. It was late when I reopened the diary. March the 3rd, 2000 I went for a walk today, my foggy sleep deprived mind wandering with the background sound of fresh snow crushing under my boots. Everything was white. The ground, the sky... Purifying, cold whiteness. I stopped dead, my head was spinning so much I thought I was having a drop in blood pressure or something. I massaged my temples, eyes closed, waiting to feel better. When was sure I wouldn’t actually collapse, I opened my eyes. The road was gone, the snow had disappeared. Just like that. I was in a green forest I didn’t even remembered walking into. The rain was pouring. I froze. A few steps ahead someone was staring at me. Dressed in a dirty white plague doctor’s costume. No inch of skin discernible. I closed and rubbed my eyes so hard I could have rubbed out my face. Still there. But closer. It’s head slightly tilted as if I was the weird thing in the woods. My heart was pondering furiously. I rubbed my eyes again, taking a few steps back, slightly losing balance. It couldn’t be... No it couldn’t... He’s closer now, its arms outstretched in a creepy invitation. Lights started flashing before my eyes. I was uncontrollably shaking, holding my unbelieving head like the screaming character in Munch’s picture. I was mad. That was it, now for sure. I closed my eyes muttering: Not real... Not real... Not real! I tried to breathe slowly. Breathe... Slowly... I carefully opened my eyes again... And screamed my head off as its foul smelling face was an inch of mine ! I woke up in my bed, soaked. What's happening to me? I wonder what Dr Stegman will make of this one. Each entry was more disturbing than the previous one. The owner didn’t write his name on the diary. I just had his psychiatrist’s name. Dr Stegman. Then I cuffed myself. There were other papers in the box, like bills. Bills have names on them, stupid. I immediately found one. A phone bill to a Mr. Adam Burnes. I thought it was stupid to try and Google-spy the owner of an almost twenty years old diary, but I did it anyway. There was nothing on him and I mean nothing. The guy was a ghost. But something was pushing me to try to find Adam anyway. I Googled Dr Stegman. Good news, still in practice ! Bad news, he won’t ever tell me anything about a patient, not even an old one. That night I started having nightmares of my own. I didn’t give much thought to it until a week later. I was watching TV and fell asleep in the armchair. I found myself on a dim forest pathway. It smelled like wet earth. I heard something groaning behind me. I checked around but there was nothing but trees, leaves swaying in the wind. Suddenly I saw decayed heads, arms and hands coming out of the bushes and I started running like mad. I didn’t know where to go but I kept running anyway. They were closing in, their hands were already scratching my shirt. To my relief I saw a cabin further away and sprang to it. I crashed in and locked the door behind me. I heard the creatures pounding on the walls, ready to break them. Just when I thought they couldn’t get to me, the cabin walls started coming nearer and nearer as if the cabin itself was shrinking with me inside. I feared the walls would crush me when the rotting hands of the creatures began poking holes in the walls, losing skin and fingers in the process. The cabin became smaller and smaller and smaller, there was no place safe, I felt the tip of their nails close enough to grab me now... And I jumped awake, screaming. That was the moment I decided I would definitely try my luck at Dr Stegman’s. I was greeted by an ancient and kind looking secretary. “Do you have an appointment?”, she asked. I freestyled. No, I didn’t have an appointment, I was looking for someone. She eyed me very suspiciously but I continued. I bought a house and found the personal effects of a certain Mr Adam Burnes, I offered. I’m sure she slightly jumped at the name but kept her cool. “We do not disclose patient information, sir.” “So he was a patient, Adam says so in his diary and there’s no other Dr Stegman around”, I insisted. She looked me square in the eye for a moment and firmly stated that if I didn’t need an appointment with Dr Stegman, I was kindly asked to remove myself. I can’t tell I was disappointed, I expected something like this. I went out and started towards the Starbucks on the corner to have a coffee and think about my next move. That’s when I heard the secretary calling after me. “Do you really have Mr Burnes diary?”, she asked when she reached me. I said I did and it gave me some nightmares, too. She shifted uneasily at this. I could see in her eyes that she thought this was a mistake but she handed me a piece of paper with a phone number on it. “Call Julia Booth, tell her I gave you her number. She might tell you what you want to know.” And she left. Julia Booth wasn’t hard to convince. She quit after the “Adam Burnes case” as she called it, and was eager to talk about it but there was a lot of pain in her voice nonetheless. “Adam... Mr Burnes had a severe anxiety disorder. Dr Stegman had no other choice than to intern him. Mr Burns never talked about his nightmares to me, but I was just one of his day-nurses. He was so quiet, so kind... Sarah, who used to tend to him at night told me about the tantrums he was throwing though. Pounding at doors and walls, screaming to be left out. Some violent night terrors he had. One night, Sarah told me, they had to give him a 4mg Lorazepam injection before the four guys holding him could release him. He didn’t even sleep after that. He sat down, back against the wall and cried all night. When I entered his room the next day he was still against that same wall. I approached him, asking if he was OK. He lifted his head. Tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn’t even bother wiping them. I confess my heart broke a little. “Please let me go... Please, let me out or they will get me... Please... Please... Please...”, he sobbed. He didn’t make any sense. He was talking about monsters being after him, led by a kid with no face... The poor man was in a bad state. None of the many psychiatrists who saw him agreed to the same diagnosis. Neither to the proper medicine for that matter. I think they might have tried anything from light anxiolytics to strong neuroleptics. The last time I saw him he was dead. His eyes were still open, his face frozen in horror... It’s been more than twenty years now but I’ll never forget …" I cut in at that point. Dead? “Yes Sir, he’s been buried at St John’s for the past two decades”. *** After looking and asking around I found Adam’s grave. No flowers. No picture. A simple headstone with his name and two dates “07/01/1964 - 10/12/2001”. A man gone crazy who died alone with no one to remember him. I kneeled and placed the diary against the sober headstone. I stayed there for a while, silent. I had found him and returned him his diary. I grieved for this stranger with whom I only ever shared nightmares. I rose and turned to leave but came face to face with a kid with no face and a smile with no lips. “Did you come to play with us?”


Hi. My name is Marissa. I'm not going to waste your time and talk about myself because you won't remember long enough to finish this story.

What you will remember is Willow. She's a pet. She's my pet. As soon as I saw her on the street, alone and scared, I had to adopt her. She's adorable. She and her little friends are all adorable. My mom, otherwise known as Mrs. Godzilla, is always telling me that I need to get rid of my pets. What does she know? She doesn't understand. Get that thing out of my house. No. Eww. What is that? None of your business. It's so ugly. So is your third husband... but no one's counting. She'll never understand. Willow is my best friend. She's the only real friend I've ever had. When I come home from school on a bad day, she'd jump into my arms and I'd lift her to my face and kiss her.

I would go taking her walking in the mornings. Well, I'd do most of the walking because someone may slip and fall on her.

When it's really cold outside, I'd make sure not to leave the house without warming up my mittens on the heater. When it's really hot, I'll have a water bottle waiting for her when she needs it. One time, the police caught me pouring water on the sidewalk and asked me what I was doing. I said that I was letting my pet drink water.

He looked around but he didn't see anyone. I held out my hand to show him. He squinted so tight that his tightly knitted eyebrows looked like a fuzzy caterpillar crawling on his face. He said he didn't see anything in my hand. I guess it was my fault I wore brown gloves that day. I told him what she was and her name but he just laughed.

"That's not a pet! Put that back on the ground! It might have rabies or somethin'." "No sir,

she

doesn't." "Well, if you're content..." "Yeah, I am." "I'm going to let you off with a warning. If you need to give your pet a drink, do it in the grass next time." He held both his hands up when he said

pet . "Yes sir." He's just like my mom, a human Godzilla. I think he was prepared to step on her if I really did put her back on the ground. Then there was one time my sister came back into town after her honeymoon. She walked straight into my room and saw me talking to Willow.

We were watching Avengers Endgame and Willow asked me wh the purple guy was. My sister, Brittany, said: "Who are you talking to?" "None of your business." "Well fine. If I actually cared, I'd let you know." "But you walked in my room. You asked the question. Sees to me like you did care." Then she stomped away back to wherever she came from. You would think a newlywed would have a newly mature mind. Then my mother came into the room. What is up with people just barging into my room at random times? You have no clue what I can be doing in there. That's why the door is closed. "Honey, you upset your sister." "Is she crying?" "No." "Is she bleeding?" "What? No." "Is she dying?" "God, I hope not." "Well then she's fine." "Marissa Jade! You go apologize to Brittany right now!" So I picked up Willow and put her back in her cage. I made sure I left some popcorn next to her breakfast bowl. Then I trudged downstairs to see Brittany with a hint of a smug smile on her face. I muttered an apology and trudged right back up the stairs, making sure they heard my feet cross over into my room and the door slam shut. I remember one time I snuck Willow to school with me. I was in 6th grade and everyone was doing it. Sneaking their pets to school with them, I mean.

In third grade, a kid named Todd Matthews brought his dog to school. Kind of hard trying to sneak a 27 pound,

pregnant,  Mudi into school without anyone noticing.

Her name was Jewel, he said. He almost got through the day without anyone noticing, I don't know how, but then Jewel started to go into labor. And Jewel had three babies: one girl and two boys.

Of course, being in third grade, a dog birth was disgusting, but when we saw the babies couldn't stop staring and giving

oohs  and

ahs .

He got in big trouble with the principal and ended up going home, staying home for the rest of the week. My bringing Willow to school had a very different effect on other people.

See, everyone thinks that Willow would hurt them. They thought that she was dangerous. I tried to show my science teacher, Mr. Colone, but he told me that Willow belonged outside.

I didn't listen to him. I kept her in my lunch bag, making sure nothing was squishing her and that she had enough to eat, and cracked the zipper so she could breathe. I mean, she was small enough to fit but I eat like an animal! As I was going to my last class of the day, someone asked me what was on my shoulder. To be completely honest, I didn't even know she had gotten out. All of a sudden, everyone was coming towards me with books and their hands prepped to slap the black off your momma.

I looked down and realized Willow was sitting there, chilling on my shoulder. Now I'm not the superhero type, but I think I saved Willow's life back then. I don't even think she's said thank you for all the times I rescued her from her last day on Earth.

And that one time when I called my grandpa. He asked me if I had anything new going on. "Not that I'm aware of, PawPaw." "Well you've got to have something different than the last time I called you." "I got a new pet!" "Oh wow! What is it? Does it have a name?" "Yes. Her name is Willow and she gives me the best hugs and kisses. I can't stop picking her up and I think she feels the same way about me." "That's wonderful, sweetheart!" "Yeah! And she has this beautiful brown coat that shines in the sun. And her bark is definitely bigger than her bite..." "That's wonderful, sweetheart." I don't think he really listened to what I was saying. Thinking back, you may think that I was talking about a dog. But I really wasn't.

If only you all knew Willow was a stickbug.


Tat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat The runner blazes through the sweltering day on his delicate feet. Along the way, the sights of the Sonoran fly by his pupils. Saguaros, canyons, green bushels, the occasional jackrabbit who’d hop away before he could glance.

Tat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat He reached a strange, desolate human structure, but the asphalt he kicked behind his tail stretched ever farther. Once again, images of the unforgiving, dull landscape would pass his gaze. More bunches of greenery, more saguaros. He thought how fortunate those damned things are. Tat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat He had found this road a couple hundred miles back, eager to see what lay at the end of its trail. Yet here he was, still running. Still going. Still seeing those same old sights. Even the occasional human monuments were growing stale to him.

Tat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat Why am I what I am? He begins to think as his feet keep up the same tedious pace through the land. Why can’t I be as jumpy as those rabbits and touch the air above me as they do? Tat tat tat tat tat tat Why can’t I experience the patient thrill that those devilish reptiles do, striking for their next tasty morsel? Why do I run? Tat tat tat tat tat tat What have I got to earn? Another stop at unremarkable constructs of man’s making? He couldn’t even seem to reach the end of this long valley of black with a fading, cracked yellow strip dividing it.

Tat tat tat The runner stops. He isn’t exhausted either. Just as he begins to contemplate heading for a snake’s maw, he hears that same tat tatting a few feet away. The tatting stops just behind him, and he knows it’s another runner. He had a bright red stain on his beak.

“What are you doing stopping out here, my brother?” The red beaked runner paces his feet in place, pecking at the ground around him as he speaks. “Don’t worry about the mark, I had some delicious something a couple miles back! Whoever left such a bite there is a sorry soul!”

“Can you stop pacing?” the runner finally says. “Oh..” The red beaked runner halts suddenly. “My apologies, I just get excited to see any other of my type on this path! You’re the first one I’ve seen in a long while!”

“I feel so special.” The runner says it so dry, the other wonders if he got some dirt caught in his throat on his way.

“Well, I’d love to keep chatting, but could we maybe get running as we do? I’m eager to see more around!”

“You’ve seen all there is to see.” The red beaked runner runs ahead. The other doesn’t want to follow, but some weird feeling inside for this other runner makes him anyway. Why do I care? Why am I running again? The red beaked runner saw the other running to the side of him. An uncontrollable ecstasy fills him.

“You don’t know that for sure, my brother! Like I said, I had that tasty bite a bit a way over there, I saw this weird looking lizard before that, he had some interesting colors to him, he didn’t seem pleasant though, and, oh, I also found some wacky place that had a funny smell to it, with all these lights-” “You don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

“I don’t, I’m glad you noticed! No critter ever acknowledges that out loud!” Who else has had to suffer this? “Why are you talking to me?” “You looked a little lost out there, my brother!” “Well I wasn’t. I’ve known where I wanted to go for a while.”

“Then why did you stop there, my brother?”

“I was exhausted.”

“Huh, that’s funny. I didn’t think our type was one to tire easily. I say that because I myself have been running along this way for quite a while without fatigue. How about you? How long have you gone?”

“What does that matter?” The red beaked runner steadily stops his rapid trek and the other follows suit.

“Why should it not, my brother?” The road runner gestures his beak at the road to the side of them.

“Do you know where this path started?”

“No, not exactly. I just found this way and I’ve been following it wherever it may lead.” “How do you know it leads anywhere? You ever think there is no end to this?”

“I don’t, but I don’t see how that’s an issue.” The runner freezes for a moment. Confusion starts clouding his brain. “Doesn’t it bother you that we’re running a path that we may never see the end to? That this whole thing doesn’t seem to offer any final destination?”

“There have been plenty of destinations along here!”

“It’s not far enough.” “Why is going that far such a big matter for you?”

“It’s been my only matter for too long to say.” The red beaked runner’s eyes widen. “For so many days I run on this road only ever getting to see the same old stops every time. Signs, plants, man made structures, waiting for the moment I can be content about this journey!”

Silence fills the desert around them. A tear rolls down the runner’s left eye. “All this running here…no end...why?” The red beaked runner has no immediate answer. He turns his head lost in thought, before he turns it back to the teary runner. “To be frank, my brother, I don’t know. That thought is rather scary, hearing it…but maybe it doesn’t have to be that way. Maybe this road has no end, maybe we’ll perish before we know if it does, but look at what you’ve done along it. Can you think of any other critter in this land that has gone as far as you have? Any others that have been able to find and see what you have?” The runner says nothing. He is done dismissing. The red beaked runner continues, as moist tears still fall from the other runner dry to the dirt under him. “I’ve not seen how this way began, but there have been a lot of remarkable things that I’ve seen along it. Sure, some ugly ones as well, none can avoid the predators and bad storms of this place. Once they part and I can see those things again, though, it reminds me why I suffer through them. Maybe, my brother, you just need that reminder too.”

For the first time, the runner doesn’t feel like running. He looks around him and takes in the majesty of the Sonoran. The way the Saguaros stand so tall and strong in the sunlight. The way the bushels of the green complement the orange of the dirt around it. The red canyons in the distance casting shadows behind them with their grand slopes. Then, next to him in the middle of it all, the roadrunner that has been talking with him. Oh, how lovely that red on his beak is. The runner gives a light chuckle and another tear drips down. Though, now, the sadness has long fried in the earth beneath.

The red beaked runner, with its beak, gently pats him on his wing. The runner shakes his tear off. “Where was that delicious morsel you found exactly?”

The red beaked runner smiles. “Let’s see if it’s still there.”


The tears streamed down my face, leaving tracks as I quickly packed my things.

I hadn’t been here long, there wasn’t much.

My heart lamented silently, “I’m not good enough.”

My head wondered, “Would I ever be good enough?

Would anyone ever love me?”

I closed and locked the door.

He would come home from work and I would be gone.

My first love, my first heartbreak, and oh how it hurt.

We hadn’t known each other long, were friends a couple of years, and were head over heels in love for the last 6 months (at least that was when we told each other).

We had just started living together.

We had a situation come up, something that came between us, that we didn’t discuss or talk about.

We were 18, we didn’t know how to discuss anything serious.

I left, I had been thinking I wasn’t good enough, and this, this told me I wasn’t good enough.

Then when he didn’t come after me, I knew I wasn’t good enough.

I went to my dad’s and told him I had left him.

He asked me why, I sobbed, “I’m not good enough.”

And he never told me………

Flash forward 42 years, after 3 failed marriages, which comprised 34 years of my life.

Still searching for the one, that unconditional love, someone to love me for me.

Dad said, “Your picker is broken. You got to keep doing it til you get it right.”

He was on #4, which lasted over 30 years, maybe he had something there.

I said, “I don’t think so, I am done!”

I spent those 34 years, always thinking I wasn’t worth much, punishing myself; with husbands, drugs, and alcohol.

The first one looking for love, the other two not to feel.

I, I wasn’t good enough, it was all me.

My choices in most things reflected that.

Not in work though, there I excelled like I had a second personality that was an overachiever and good enough.

At 52, I got clean and sober, the best decision I ever made.

Working the steps, and working on me.

Finally……that unconditional love…..and it came from me.

I had learned to Love Myself!

I worked hard on that and got to know myself.

My son died of an overdose 18 months later……I stayed sober, even there was a hole in my world.

My daughter had cancer……I stayed sober, was there through weeks of treatment, mending and growing our relationship.

My dad, with 39 ½ years sober, passed away unexpectantly……I stayed sober.

My mom got cancer, I was able to help with all she needed, sat with her during chemo, but a year later she passed away…….I stayed sober.

I worked at and completed most of my amends.

There were still a few left, very few but one of them was very important, the first one, my first love.

I was on Facebook one day, saw People You May Know, so I scrolled through.

My heart stopped……there was a picture of my first love……I think.

The name was the same yet the picture showed a bald man.

When I knew him, he had long curly hair.

I stalked his page, just to see if there were earlier pics.

Yep, it was him.

I reached out in Messenger, he was one of my last amends.

I didn’t know if he was married, had kids, anything about him.

I just wanted to apologize for leaving that night while he was working.

I said, “Hey voice from the past, reaching out to say hi.

Was wondering if you were the same boy I knew so many years ago?

Hit send and after a few months, forgot I had sent that message.

Almost one year later, actually 15 days short of a year, messenger notification went off and scared the crap out of me.

It was not a format I used very often or really at all.

I looked at my phone, he answered me!

He was my first love, my hands were trembling, my heart skipped a beat.

He said, “This is the same boy, though I don’t look the same.

How are you?”

At that moment, time stood still, the years fell away, it was 42 years ago, and we were 18 again.

We talked into the wee hours of the morning, neither of us wanting to stop.

Catching up on each other’s lives, the years.

Finally, sleep deprivation and both of us having to work in a couple of hours caused us to reluctantly end our texting. Tho I was a bit more tech-savvy, neither of us tried the video call, still, a bit timider, reeling in the whirling emotions we both felt.

He said he had just stumbled upon my message, not even sure how.

Said he wasn’t on Facebook that much, I said that’s apparent since it took you a year to answer me.

I found out he had been sober for 27 years, I had 7 ½ years.

He had been married for 29 years, his wife had died of cancer the same year my son died.

He wrote songs and still played guitar.

I still wrote, instead of poems, it was stories now and made miniature clay figures and houses.

He had worked in a machine shop for 28 years and was a business rep for the union now.

I had been in an avionics shop for 28 years and was managing one from home now.

He had a son and a granddaughter.

I had a daughter and 3 granddaughters.

He had a home in IL and I had one in FL. However, the shop I managed was in IL, not far from him.

We spent time texting back and forth on messenger for a week.

I wanted to hear his voice, was it the same?

I asked him to call me, I needed some advice on a work situation (someone had to make the first move).

He called, and yes, heart skipped another beat, the ice had been broken, and we had graduated to phone calls…….. on a daily basis.

Just so happened, a few weeks later, I was coming to IL, for work.

I would be arriving on Friday and we made plans to get together on Sunday.

I arrived at my best friend's house around 4, talked a bit; she went off to meet her honey and I went to meet a friend.

We sat chatting, my phone rang, looked down, and a smile broke out on my face.

Guess he couldn’t wait until Sunday.

Well, to tell the truth, neither could I.

He gave me the address, I put it in wrong, still was, and am directionally challenged.  He called to find out where I was and proceeded to talk me all the way to the door.  He stood in the open door, silhouetted from the hallway light.  I was transported back, I saw that boy I fell in love with, so long ago.  We had laughingly told each other we had changed.  He said he had put on a few pounds and was bald.  I said I had put on a few myself, my hair was blonde (covers gray better), and my bottom teeth (partial) were like the stars and came out at night.  Yet, as we looked into each other’s eyes, we were those young kids again.

He opened his arms, I melted into his embrace, and it felt like coming home.  We sat on the couch, feeling a little shy, a little hesitant, strange, huh, for two 59-year old's.  We sat facing each other, sideways on the couch, and just talked, talked, talked.  Not at all like when we were kids, we actually talked......about feelings, life, beliefs, family, hopes, dreams.  We had grown up and older, yet it was like 42 years had never happened.

As sleep started to creep in, the adrenalin wearing off, he asked me to spend the night.  He wanted to do something no one had done for me before.  He knew I went through my son’s death alone in many senses, I had my daughter but, in my home, alone.  He said he just wanted to hold me and have me tell him about my son.  I crumbled, it felt so good to cry, talk and feel those comforting arms around me.  I fell asleep in his arms.

The next morning, we woke early, got up, and started coffee.  I looked at my phone, saw my neighbor had tried to contact me several times, and left messages to call.  My neighbors were special, always keeping an eye on me and looking out for me.  Her husband had gotten sick and his health kept declining.  I told him just before I left, “Don’t leave me yet”.   He said, “Don’t worry, I am not going nowhere until I know you are taken care of.”  It was with dread I called my neighbor.  She told me he had passed about the time I was being held and talking about my son.  Guess he knew it was ok, I was going to be taken care of.

The rest of the story is pretty much like the ending of a fairytale.  I went back to FL, came back for 3 months to deal with the situation happening at work.  We dated, hung out, and at the end of the 3 months, he asked me to move in with him.  By then we were so in love, I closed up my house in FL, and went to reside in the frozen tundra.  That must be love, I swore to never live there again.  We made sporadic trips to FL, he loved the house and the area.  Two years later we were married, barefoot, on the beach, and the idea of retirement started sneaking in.  He had a high-stress job, Type 2 diabetes, and I was wanting years and years together.

I crunched the numbers, and a year and a half later; we bought a motorhome, packed up what he wanted from his house in pods sent to FL, sold the house in IL, took our time in motorhome getting to FL, and started that happy road to retirement where every day is Saturday.

Combined two households into one; combined two hearts into one; combined two busy lives into one retirement.  How often do you get a 2nd chance at first love?  How often do you find your soulmate and start a new life?  I guess Dad was right; you keep doing it until you get it right.  Dad never told me that the week before I left, he had gone to my father and asked permission to marry me.  Guess Dad thought he was the one who said I wasn’t good enough, he didn’t know at that time, I was my own worst enemy.

We are living the dream; retired, chasing our passions, and loving our life together.  We are so in sync, so in tune, so much alike, so different, and so in love.  Who says fairy tales don’t come true?


Paradise Lost              Cool, calm, collected, a hotshot in the mean streets of the Dirty Sock. When he drives his Porsche through Woonsocket everyone knows who he is. Some people love him, others despise him, but all fear him. His name is Luigi, and craps is his game. The city is his Kingdom now, but it’s gonna be mine.

             Luigi became the Kingpin of the Dirty Sock after he won a game of craps against my pops. His name was Alfonso, and poker was his game. Unlike Luigi, everyone loved my father. At least, that’s what they tell me. Maybe they are too afraid to tell me otherwise. Either way it doesn’t matter. When it comes to power is there any difference between love and fear? What is that you said? Yeah, that’s right, I didn’t think so.              Don’t get it twisted, personally I like Luigi. It isn’t his fault or my fault that my old man was dumb enough to get himself killed. Craps wasn’t my pops’ game, it was Luigi’s. Luigi came for the kingdom, so according to rule 30 of the Street Code, it was my old man that could choose the game. He chose craps because he thought he could win any game, at any time, against anyone, and he wanted to prove it against the best craps player in the city. When Luigi placed his life on the table, as per rule 30, my pops had to match.  After the bet was made, my old man could only see Luigi as a dead man walking. When my dad lost the game, and Luigi lodged a bullet between his eyes, it wasn’t Luigi who sent him to hell. It was my pops’ own cockiness that did that. Unfortunately for Luigi, in my eyes, I am the heir to Woonsocket’s throne. So, as you can see, I’ve got no choice, I’ve gotta send my dad an old friend.              I’ve been practicing craps since my old man died five years ago. I knew back then that Luigi wasn’t dumb like my pops. He would have to accept the challenge, but he wouldn’t choose a game that benefited me. There was only one game that he would play, and it would be a game that he couldn’t lose. Craps. So, I had to learn to be better than him at his own game, and I’m convinced I did that. When dice is in my hand it feels like part of my soul. It’s like I can control them with my mind.   If I wanna roll a 12, I’ll roll a 12.  If I wanna roll a 7, I’ll roll a 7. Luigi can’t beat me.

             “Hey kid, wake up, you fall asleep or somethin’?” Luigi yells at me.              Okay maybe I exaggerated my confidence. I’m scared. I’m really, really, really scared. I mean yeah I’m a master at craps but honestly, I ain’t sure I can beat this guy. I can see in his right hand that he is shaking the golden dice that he plays with.  Behind him is this dime piece rubbing his shoulders. His goons are to the right and left of him holding automatic rifles. The guy is intimidating but I think what scares me the most is he is sittin’ on my old man’s throne. Seeing that golden chair reminds me of how much of a fool he was to play Luigi in craps. Now I’m about to do the same thing. Am I as dumb as my dad? We’ll see.              “Ay Luigi, nah, just chillin’.”              “Did I ask you to come chill with me?” Luigi snaps back.              “Nah.”              While he was already impatient, I’m thinking Luigi is now ready to bust my head open. “Then why the hell are you here?” Luigi asks, as his goons’ step forward ready to confront me.

             At this point, I can’t even look at him. All I can do is look down and stare at the Persian rug I’m standing on. Somehow, even though I can barely breathe, I manage to reply, “Rule 30.”              He starts laughing, then the woman and his goons join in. “You know with rule 30, I pick the game.”              “Yeah, I know.”              More laughter roars from Luigi and his gang. They keep laughing for what seems to be about a minute before he says, “You know I’m gonna pick craps, and you know you’re gonna die?”              “Craps it is.” I reply realizing, without a doubt, that I’m as dumb as my old man.              “Okay kid, let’s get this over with.” Luigi places a gun on the table, a gun that holds a bullet that will end one of our lives. Then takes the dice he was shaking earlier and throws them against the wall. He rolls a twelve. “You’re throw, let’s see who is rolling, you match the twelve we throw again, if not, your life depends on my dice.”              I pull my dice out of my back pocket and toss them against the wall, a twelve. “Looks like we gotta roll again.”              “Lucky roll kid”, Luigi replies, but I know it wasn’t luck. By rolling that twelve, I’m starting to believe I can beat this guy. Luigi rolls another twelve, but so do I.

We keep rolling twelves for a couple of hours, and as time passes, I can see that Luigi is getting nervous while I’m gaining confidence. Finally, he breaks. I’m not sure if his hand was trembling a bit more than usual or if his palm was a little sweatier than it typically is but he rolled a five. All I have to do is roll something greater than five and our lives will depend on my toss. I call my shot, “Hey Luigi, check this out, I’m gonna roll a seven.” Sure enough I did. Luigi is now having an all-out panic attack. Sweat is pouring from his forehead. His legs are so weak he can barely stand. I think he might even be shedding a tear. He knows he has met his match. He knows his life is in my hands. The Kingpin knows he is gonna die, so I figure I should be courteous and give him the option of how he wants to die. Cool, calm, and collect, I look him dead in the eye and ask, “Seven or eleven?” He doesn’t reply, so I ask again, “Seven or eleven?” Still no reply, so I say “Okay, eleven.” I toss the dice against the wall and roll a seven. Did I mean to roll a seven, no, but sometimes the universe knows what is righteous. It knows that the Dirty Sock is rightfully my kingdom. I grab the gun that Luigi had placed on the table. Luigi turns and faces me. Without hesitation, I shoot him between the eyes, just like how he killed my old man. Sirens wail. “Freeze!” My finger is still on the trigger of the gun. BANG, BANG, BANG. “What’s up pops? What’s good Luigi?” Paradise Lost.


The first thing I remember of the valley is the grey. Grey dust from the marching feet of men and horses. Grey soot from their long-dead fires. Grey ash from the trees left standing after those heedlessly abandoned fires, their tortured grey skeletons reaching towards heaven. Even the mighty Sun, bearing down with childbed vigor, only added heat to the grey haze. The dust devils that stirred at our passage did not bring coolness nor did they break the miasma. The air about the River was slightly cooler, though the water was near black. Here, Mother paused. “Look, my daughter.” She pointed to a few patches of struggling moss on the rocks. “There is life. We will stay.” Our tent was small and our belongings few. She had dropped the heavy sacks she had carried so far and so long, not even bothering to open them. She had never told me what was in them. “Mother are those your jewels?” I asked, remembering the beautiful ornaments she had always worn. “My most precious jewels, aside from you,” she said, hugging me close. “Rest now.” She pulled my head to her lap and stroked my hair, softly whisper-chanting the ancient sound of the growing Earth, as unbroken lines of women have done and shall do until all growth ends. I slept in our world of grey and black, as jewels of brown and green danced just out of reach of my grasping hands. Mother was gone when I awoke. The smoke of our cookfire was lost in the stench of smoke through the entire grey land. The food tasted of smoke. The water tasted of smoke. If I licked my fingers, I was sure they would taste of smoke. Mother left me to mind the fire while she went into our tent. She emerged with a small shovel and a sack. She showed me how to bank the fire and took me out into our new domain. She showed me where she would dig and how deeply. She sent me to fetch water from the river to give the thirsty soil a drink. She showed me how to wet my shirt and wrap it about my head for coolness and how to fold my skirt to make a pad for my knees. And finally, she showed me what was in the sacks: what I saw to be pebbles and fine sand. “Why, Mother?” I asked, holding up a heavily ridged stone. “Why did you carry this so many days?” She smiled as she took it from me and pushed it deep into the hole she had dug. “This stone, this seed, is my breast, giving nourishment and rest. I plant this seed, my daughter, so you may eat the fruit. So your daughters may trade the fruit and taste new fruits. I plant it so as an old woman, I may lie in its shade. Such little weight for so much.” “And these?” I ran my hands through a sack of silkily smooth stones, each small as a dot. “These jewels, these seeds, is my hair, giving softness and comfort. These I will spread over the ground, so that the ground will be cool and soft to your feet. I will spread these seeds so that the bees will come and we will taste their honey. I spread this seed so that your daughters may wonder at the rabbits playing in the twilight. I spread this seed so that I may rest in their sweetness.” “And these?” This sack was mixed - smooth river rocks and round husks like the nuts we sometimes ate. “My shoulders, my daughter. These will be frail for a long time, but will grow stronger and stronger, as I did. I plant these so that they may take the bite from the wind and the glare from the sun. I plant these so that one day, you and your daughters will live in a house of wood, rather than cloth. I plant these so that I may keep warm in my old age from the fire contained in their old branches.” She showed me how to give life back into the Earth – from the stones we buried, she assured me the Earth would return to us. Each stone was not a stone, but a life asleep, as I had been asleep inside my mother. Each day, we gave the Earth a new life. We gave the Earth water when the Sun labored upon her. We watched the skies for the Raincloud, which would clean the Earth and the River. Mother showed me how to scrape the moss from some rocks and carry it to others, so that the water in the River would run sweeter. For many days, we were grey where we were not brown – the ash and the mud became one upon both of us, as we wandered together, farther and farther, giving the Earth our offering of life. I awoke one morning and screamed for joy. The Earth had taken our offerings and had given birth. The valley was coated in a mist of green. Even the Sun relaxed in her sky – the grey beginning to tinge blue. “Come,” my mother said, after she too wept for joy at the birth. “These children are ours as well, and we must do what Earth cannot for them.” She showed me how to gently sweep the ashes away from the new green faces and how to tell when a plant-child needed water. She showed me how to pull some so that others could grow stronger. She built a burial site for these plant-children, where they would break down and become soil. “These plants, through their passing, will help all others grow. Some plants, through their living, will help everything else grow. For those whose time it is to die, they rest well knowing that they have helped others to live. One day, my daughter, I will lay down and become the soil. I will sleep in pride, knowing I have helped so many to live.” So she said. So she toiled long and hard. So I joined her in her laboring. So our new lives covered the Earth. The River came alive and ran sweet. The Sun no longer pained us. The trees grew strong as my mother’s shoulders, so the clover grew thick and sweet as my mother’s hair, so the fruit trees brought forth the abundance of my mother’s breast. The Earth no longer hid under her grey shroud, but showed her colors of green and brown and yellow and red. She brought forth flowers and the flowers brought the bees. The birds returned. The animals returned. This valley of life, my daughters and the daughters of my daughters, came from our Mothers. Our Mother the Sun, our Mother the Earth, our Mother the River, and the hands of our Mother and our Mother’s Mother, who returned life for her daughters. Every act of creation, every new life you bring forth, every death that returns to her that she may exchange it for life: they belong to her and they belong to you. Love them as her, love them as yourselves, and love them as themselves. Life is the jewel we carry, my daughters. It only shines when it is spread in love.