Something was wrong. Fatally wrong. He couldn’t grasp the reason for his anxiousness. As Clive stepped onto the platform at precisely 06:05 and 35 seconds waiting for his early morning commuter train, something was wrong, he thought. Something was not right. In those moments in his life, his mind concentrated on an image of Newton’s cradle, it was idle, motionless, the big brass orbs, dangling from the brass cradle, all were stationary, passive and still, but there was a sense of anticipation, the orbs were oscillating in anticipation of movement, one of the outside orbs to the left or right would start the motion, and then the orb would send all the others into a monotonous; endless click – clacking. When will one of them initiate the law of the conservation of energy, the transfer of energy, the two-way domino effect? Clive knew. He grinned with the image of Newton’s cradle in the front of his mind. He could count time, the seconds, by the rhythmic striking of each brass orb in Newton’s cradle. The kiss of the cold metal against cold metal. Click – Clack. Energy converted into time, that’s what made Clive special. Clive knew how to slow down time, to make it stop. “Don’t YOU mess up, now! Stay cool, stay calm!” Said the voice in his head. It was his imaginary friend he had been told. Clive knew different. Mr. Black stepped onto the platform at 06:06 and 10 seconds, in his commuter uniform, his pressed suit was covered with an elegant cashmere and wool full-length overcoat, and camel coloured scarf elegantly arranged on both sides of the coat covering the lapels. His umbrella hung on his angled arm, held in position like a soldier on parade. “Morning, Clive.” Greeted Mr. Black. “Not so cold this morning.” Then the hushed whisper, as he passed by Clive, to take up his normal position on the platform. “What time will she come?” “Don’t say anything, nothing, you idiot!” The voice said gruffly in his head. Mr. Gray bundled onto the platform at 06:07 and 5 seconds, as ever fumbling nervously with his numerous pockets, more than likely, trying to check on the whereabouts of his wallet, keys, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything for the day’s commute, he opened and checked his slim briefcase to locate his phone and book for the umpteenth time. “Morning, Clive.” Mr. Gray said to Clive. “Bit chilly today!” Then the whisper from behind his raised hand hiding his mouth, his lips. “What time will she come?” “You say a word, your life won’t be worth living.” The voice inside his head hissed. Mr. Brown arrived slightly late at 06:08 and 30 seconds, he continued to peer in concern at his watch, but brightened as he recognized Clive. “Morning, Clive.” Mr. Brown said to Clive. “Fine morning.” Then the whisper and furtive look for a fraction of a second, before he said, “What time will she come?” The voice in his head made a cough, sounding like a grunt. It was a warning signal, not to reply. Mrs. Mauve and Mrs. Green stepped onto the platform together in deep conversation, talking behind animated hands. As they passed Clive, they both whispered, without turning their heads. “What time will she come?” They said in unison, and then walked to their waiting positions on the platform. “Don’t….” Warned the voice in Clive’s head. Finally, Miss Pink arrived at 06:09 and 20 seconds. She strode confidently onto the platform like a catwalk model, she knew everybody on the platform had waited for her entrance this morning, for all the waiting passengers, it was the thrill of the day she imagined. She walked with the same purpose as a model, a gladiator of hearts and minds, she imagined she was walking a straight line, walking directly, purposely towards Clive, and on cue, her timing was stage perfect, she winked flirtingly at Clive, the wink that meant, anytime, I’m your license to promiscuity buddy, a longing stare to the recipient of her wantonness; an unsaid message - take me! “Shut the f..k up – you dare, you just dare!” Said the angry slightly nervous voice in his head. As Miss. Pink passed Clive, she whispered like everybody else. “What time will she come?” He followed her path looking enviously at her long shapely legs, her tight backside. Everybody was in their normal position. They all started looking downline for sight of the commuter train to the right. The tunnel entrance to the left was a dark black hole, like a large muzzle of a gun, a void, an impenetrable blackness, it was different to the darkness of the early winter morning, where the light pollution and illuminated glare, diffused the blackness, and played tricks with eyes. Then the stranger arrived. He wore dark glasses, and a long black trench coat styled raincoat. He looked around the platform and recognized Clive, he bowed his head and strode up to Clive. There was intent in his voice when he said. “Mr. Caldwell, I need a few words with you, do you mind if we talk?” “Don’t tell him anything – understand. Not a word!” Screamed the voice. “It’s an important matter Mr. Caldwell, it’s about your wife….” The stranger in the long trench coat didn’t finish the sentence. “Be careful now…” said the voice with a menacing tone. Instantly, the golden orbs started to move in Newton’s Cradle, click - clack, click - clack. The energy, and counter energy started to dance. Both the cradle and balls were shuddering, jerking in an erratic crazed movement. “What time will she come?” Said the stranger. He didn’t whisper it like the others, but as the voiced question appeared in the hushed morning air, the stranger smiled a knowing smile. Clive thought he noticed a smirk. “Keep that mouth shut, keep it shut!” The voice in Clive’s head was getting more than angry, it was becoming uncontrollable, insane! CLICK – CLACK; CLICK – CLACK the golden orbs had really started to move now, they were moving back and forth with the velocity of a funfair ride, Clive had forgotten the name of the ride. His brow started to sweat, his palms started to feel clammy, he felt nauseous. BANG! The explosion came from the black tunnel entrance, the impact, the latent energy of the explosion was made more catastrophic as it was ignited from inside the tunnel, and then the trapped energy blasted outwards with more force at its mouth, the entrance, a titanic release of deadly energy, huge pieces of masonry, metal flew like missiles through the dark morning air hissing with a deadly force, the sonic boom of the explosion deafened the dark morning skies. Clive had a slow-motion image of the chaotic debris decapitating some waiting passengers on the platform, their bodies smashed into pieces by the force of the explosion. Clive slowed the titanic forces in his mind to a still photograph type image – he made it STOP. Click – clack, click – clack the sound of Newton’s cradle returned from his peripheral hearing, as the sound of the explosive forces stopped at the same instant as the horrific images. “She won’t come now!” said the voice with evil mirth in Clive’s head. “She’s gone forever.” There was a sense of finality in the last words. ************************************************************  “They will be ready for you shortly Mr. Caldwell.” The nurse said chirpily. Clive was handcuffed to the wheelchair. Two burly attendants on each side of the wheels. The door opened suddenly, and Clive was wheeled into the meeting room. There was a committee of three men and two ladies waiting inside, all seated behind desks, files and papers, laptops in front of them, and on the side seated ready to take minutes, a transcriber of the meeting was a young administration lady, wearing a bright puce lady’s suit. Sitting separately in the corner of the room was a strange man with dark glasses. The attendants and the chirpy nurse stood at the side and behind Clive, seated in the wheelchair. “How are you today, Mr. Caldwell?” Said one of the women, a member of the committee. Before Clive could answer, the women started the introduction to the meeting. “The psychiatric team of Edmundston Mental Hospital, in attendance today, Dr, Schwartz, Dr. Sery, Dr. Braun, Dr. Zeleny, and myself the chairperson Dr. Malva presiding over case: 10476; Mr. Clive Caldwell.” Dr Malva paused. “Now, Mr. Caldwell, under the Mental Health act of 2018, we are required to conduct a regular status review of your condition. The committee has your records, and we have duly reviewed all the details, including your recent status of the last 6 months, and we find some improvements in your condition.” “We have some questions for you today. Do you feel in a frame of mind to answer?” Clive paused for some moments, before he answered calmly. “Yes, that’s OK.” “OK, looking at the records we find that your medication is stabilizing your previous traumas, there are no reported incidents of violent behaviour.” “Do you have visions, or when was the last time you had any distressing visions, Mr. Caldwell?” “I can’t remember, not for some time.” Clive quietly replied. “Good, and what about voices, do you hear any voices in your head nowadays?” “No Ma'am, and I don’t have any headaches either.” Clive added. “Very good, we the committee believe that you no longer pose a security risk, not whilst you are in this institution, and you are taking your prescribed daily medication. We have also agreed that based on a clean incident free record under the constant observation of this institution, that in 6 months, we can look at a release program. What do you say about that Mr. Caldwell?” “Great! - gettin' me time back again, - thank you Ma'am." Clive said with some hesitation. He looked to the corner of the room at the seated stranger. The seated stranger took off his dark glasses and peered directly at Clive. He had no eyes, instead where there should be eyes and eye sockets there were two black holes; they looked like tunnel entrances, with the scars and scorch marks of fire caused by a tremendous explosive blast were evident on and around the circumference of the black holes. The stranger’s expression didn’t change, his face was peering directly at Clive, and then he smirked, and mouthed silently. “What time will she come?” “Who is that?” Clive thought. “The past, and the future, YOU arsehole, don’t look at him, you idiot!” Said the voice in Clive’s head. “OK nurse, take Mr. Caldwell away, and we will see the next patient.” The attendants reversed the wheelchair out of the meeting room. Clive’s first thought, 5 minutes, and 12 seconds – meetings are getting shorter. Clive was grinning, a crooked smile which never disappeared off his face, but no one noticed his eyes, peering at nothing, there seemed to be something going on behind the masked appearance on his face, his pasted-on smile, his eyes; it was a charade for the continued monitoring and inspection of all at Edmundston. He wore the mask like a reveler at Mardi Gras, his unique disguise. Fake it, to make it. The voice in Clive’s head. “Told you we’d be out of here, just keep smiling sonny, just be patient with these arseholes for a little while longer! – who’s always looked after you, sonny Jim, always - right from the beginning of time!” CLICK – CLACK The sound of the orbs in Newton’s cradle continued counting time. Clive's time.


                                SAVING FIRE   Watching Lydia toss and turn in a restless sleep, Chase Elliot had not left her side since he pulled her from the fire. As her mother, I feared she might not be able to recover from the intensive burns and injuries she sustained. Chase fell asleep in the hospital recliner, murmuring unintelligible words reliving the rescue. I looked out the hospital window into the vast starless sky. The darkness seemed to envelop us in this foreign unknown territory uncertain of what the outcome might be. Leaving the room, I walked to the nurses station to ask for an extra blanket. I brought the blanket to the room, spread it over Chase's sleeping form. Next I kissed my daughter on her forehead, whispering words of love in her ear. For right now, I needed to reflect on God’s word and the comfort it would bring.

   Dawn ushered in the new day, I pondered what to do step by step. This morning the doctor would make his rounds and inform us of Lydia ‘s condition. Chase and I waited for the doctor and the only sounds in her room was the machine helping her to breathe easier. The first talk, Lydia was heavily sedated and this is the news we received. Lydia's burns extended to second degree burns to her neck, head, and right arm. This type of burn affects both the epidermis and the second layer of skin called the dermis. It may cause swelling and red, white or splotchy skin. Blisters may develop, and pain can be severe. Deep second degree burns can cause scarring. The doctor recommended a treatment plan of laser scar treatment, skin grafts, and reconstructive surgery could involve months to complete.   Lydia and Chase had broken up a month before this vicious assault occurred. Lydia was very quiet about the break-up simply stating she realized just in time they were too different from each other. Lydia had met a new man, I hadn’t even met him yet. This was their second date, on the first date they had gone to see a play at the theatre on campus at the college they both attended. On the second date, they went out to eat at a restaurant that Lydia had chosen. The restaurant was Outback Steakhouse, and Lydia was wearing a little black dress, accessorized with a gold chain belt to emphasize her small waistline. She had gone to the hair salon, choosing a shorter cut and color, ash blonde for a new look. Lydia walked to the bathroom in the restaurant, her date accused her with flirting with an admirer. Unexpectedly, from behind he poured gasoline all over her when they reached his car. Chase watched from the parking lot and took action. Now in this present time, the first thing you noticed when you looked at her was the ugly purple skin on her neck and above that matted hair, in need of washing and untangling.

   Lydia and Chase found their way back to each other, through a lot of laughter and tears whenever I stepped out of the hospital room briefly. Often both Chase and I would be there in the weeks in the hospital and the burn center as an inpatient. At times Chase would go home to his Mom and Dad's for a rest, shower, and meal before returning as we started to relax a bit. I went to our home, it was lonely without Lydia beside me. Our dog, Toby a blonde cocker spaniel was so sad at home that I took him over to my sister's house for playdates with her collie dog, Queenie.    Most days Chase or I would take turns walking with Lydia down the hallway. Holding the IV pole and fluids, Lydia seemed to gain strength each day. Losing some friends along the way, Lydia drew to us for strength as I sought strength from God and my Sunday school class from church. A day arrived quite unexpectedly that transported Valerie from our neighborhood and on our street. She had called Lydia to ask if she could come visit. The treatments were coming to a close: the reconstructive surgery was complete, skin grafts were complete, and the laser scar treatments were halfway through. The visit went well, and Lydia looked forward to her discharge from the burn center. The doctor had been pleased with Lydia's progress. Treatments, the doctor spoke of for a couple of weeks in outpatient therapy. Lydia and Valerie poured through wedding magazines planning an intimate private ceremony. Valerie was asked to be the maid of honor and Chase’s brother Josh was asked to be the best man. Mrs. Elliot and I shared conversations for the upcoming wedding. In our latest conversation, she said we are going to be family, call me Gayle.    Lydia was determined not to hide away and isolate herself due to this unfortunate circumstance. On the day of the wedding, a deacon from my home church escorted Lydia down the aisle. The delicately designed veil covered the burn on her head. The neckline of her wedding dress was heart shaped, exposing the burn on her neck, a small amount of scarring. More scarring was on her right arm not visible to the eye. She looked absolutely radiant, reminding me of when I married her father. The war in Iraq took him from us forever. Lydia was a baby when her father died, has no conscious memory of him. Memories I share are all from my loyal heart, she deserves that much from me.     Lydia begins the journey of a lifetime with the love of her life by her side. Chase’s Uncle Bob has loaned him his Studebaker from his car collection. Ridgefield’s Country Club has packed an abundantly full picnic basket perfect for a drive in the country. In the basket is a small decorated box full of well wishes from the intimate party of wedding guests. All of us touched by this sad circumstance has come through the fire tried and true. Showing strength, courage, endurance to persevere in adverse conditions. You learn who your friends are and who they are not. Lydia learned of the faithfulness of a lifetime companion. Saving fire burning away the dross and stubble, leaving only fine gold and silver.


The warm yellow light illuminated the large room, the blasting AC blowing as if loudly whispering a secret into Andre’s ears. The librarian sitting at the customer service pulled the shutters down, the loud fluttering of the impact signaling the end of Andre’s 6-hour visit to the library.  As he got up to leave the building, he noticed that one of the windows had been left open, and since everyone else had left, there was nobody other than him to close it. He advanced toward the window. The wind howled through the open casement, the pleasant breeze pushing his matte-black hair back; the window shutting with a loud snap.

The downpour outside had died down to a soft drizzle, dampening the cashmere wool of his jacket. The weather seemed perfect, and the warm light of the nearby MarBucks gave out the perfect mood. Pulling out his phone, he adjusted his hair and puffed his sleeves, holding his phone upwards to show the cafe behind him. But there was something else. Or rather, someone else. However, there was something different behind him. A man with a baseball cap, his navy blue hood pulled down, masking his face. The man started walking faster toward him. Andre didn’t know why the sudden movements scared him so much, but he hid behind a nearby post-box.

Eventually, the man walked past the post-box and turned around, looking directly at Andre.

“Are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.” Andre stuttered in response “Oh uh I’m sorry I was just..tying my shoes” He was very aware that it was an obvious excuse but he didn’t really care. The man just shrugged and walked away. And that's when Andre remembered he forgot to bring his backpack. After he put it down, he didn’t pick it up again.

It was getting late and his grandpa wasn't necessarily a patient person. He ran back towards the library, arriving at the front door (which was locked). After knocking at the door and receiving no response, he went to the side of the building to peek into the window, just to see if someone had picked it up or stole it. Instead, he came to see that it was smashed open, the shards dangling from the window frame.

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it can kill much more than just that. Andre went inside through the broken window frame, wondering if it was an animal or some sort of freak accident that the window broke. A library isn’t really the ideal place to break into at night and rob.

The interior looked untouched, but his backpack was nowhere to be seen. He decided it was a waste of time to stay there, so he went towards the window frame again to retreat, when he heard a raspy voice echo throughout the corridor.

He turned around to see a soft “Please” escape the lips of a girl who was lying on the floor, attempting to crawl away on her hands and knees.

Her words were met with a leather boot, which slammed her head onto the floor. A soft gasp escaped the girl as she closed her eyes.

Andre sat under a desk, waiting for her to open her eyes. He clenched his fists, ready to make a run for it. All he could see from down on the floor were black cargo pants and boots.

 He crawled back, moving backward and deeper into the bottom of the desk. His palms were sweaty, and he slipped his hands into his pocket. His phone. He picked up his phone, ready to call 911, but instead met the loud vibrations of his phone, seeing a call from his Grandfather. Quickly, he pressed ‘no’, but it was too late.

When he looked up, he met the eyes of a mask with hollow eyes. He snatched his phone and slipped out from under the desk, bolting towards the window, but he wasn’t fast enough.

Halfway through the window, he felt a sharp pain in his thigh, and he fell onto the other side, the dirt covering his face. He was lying on the floor, a knife dug deep inside his thigh.

He knew not to pull the knife out from medical tv shows, since that would cause him to bleed out. The masked person leaned out of the window and pulled Andre in, the shards on the frame digging into his skin.

With one of his hands getting pulled, Andre reached the other hand into his pocket, and by turning his head slightly, he was able to speed dial the police. Usually, in a 911 call, the victim is not able to explain anything, so Andre just left the call on and started screaming. Eventually, the masked person realized he had been sending a message to the police and shut off the phone, throwing it against the wall.

Andre started attacking the masked person, ripping at their clothes, clawing at their face. Soon, the masked person's plastic disguise fell.

Sitting on the floor, covering her face, was a girl. She began crying and talking about her revenge over something that Andre wasn’t paying attention to.

All Andre felt was satisfaction from watching her cry.

Andre leaned over and picked up the girl’s mask. He put it on and looked at her. Limping towards her, he grabbed a pencil, shoving it into what used to be the person attempting to murder him. He watched the girl bleed out, and walked out of the library.

The truth is, Andre was a liar. He never left his backpack in the library. He never even brought a backpack. While he was walking away, he heard the window get smashed. He noticed the girl hiding in the bushes, and he closed the window to see what she would do.

And when he was positive she was inside the building, he came back to take advantage of her.

Andre had lied. He lied to you, he lied to me.

I never died.

As painful as it sounds, you can’t kill someone with a pencil. Curiosity killed the cat, but today it’ll kill much more. And when they see me on the news, they wont called me "The Masked Killer" or "Woman Murderer" They'll call me "Curiosity".


Keith Smith silently watches his partner Lilly Wilson get herself ready to meet her friends. Every movement made by her is scrutinised intently by him. Even though she faces the other direction from him. She is fully aware of his presence. “I don’t understand why you are going out with them. You see them at work every day.” He says abruptly. “When we see each other at the hospital we are really busy with patients. And don’t have time to talk to each other.” She says applying her mascara. “But during lunch hours or when you are on your break. You have time to chat. “ Lilly turned round suppressing her anger towards him and finds her herself in an all too familiar and daunting situation. Then again when she told him about her arrangement to go out at the start of the week. Lilly knew that it would inevitably lead to them arguing over every detail of it. Keith slowly moved closer his eyes swirling with sadness and anger. As if he had been betrayed. The two stop and look at each with a chasm of silence between them. “I promise you we won’t be going far or even for that long. I will be back by midnight “She said through a gentle smile. At the same time praying inside  that Keith would feel any closure from her words. Keith stood silent not really sure what to think of Lilly’s response. He knew that she would never cheat on him. Although he hated seeing other men look at her. Her tall and slim body often caught the attention of many other males. The two of them then moved towards one each other. As they hugged a single tear ran from his left eye. Lilly wiped it away with her hand and then straightened him up. They  stare into each other eyes sharing a moment of tenderness. Something they had not experienced in a long time. Keith put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s just that I worry something will happen to you. There is lots of new variants around. Remember also someone got attacked and mugged not far from here.” “Take it from a staff nurse I will not end up as a corpse. And I won’t be alone or on another planet.” Lilly said, continuing her on the spot form of comedic reassurance.

Keith’s face then showed signs of calmness. The two then kissed on the lips and quickly separated. Lilly then continued to get add the final preparations to her much anticipated and well-deserved night out. Keith stayed and watched for a short while before going into the living room. “That’s me away love.” Keith bolted up from his chair to try and catch one final glimpse of Lilly before the door shut. But all he got was a blur of her clothing and a whiff of perfume. He then hurried to the window in the living room to see her walk down the street. Lucky for him the top floor of their flat in Cathcart Road provided an amazing view of the street below. Keith waited up that entire time not doing much expect for going on his phone and watching the odd bit of television. The entirety of his thoughts focused on him imaging Lilly and her friends having and incredible time. Keith in some ways felt inadequate to them. Perhaps it was due to her and them knowing each other for longer or working in the exact same line of work. It was quarter to midnight when Lilly returned home. She reckoned that coming home a little bit earlier in order to reassure Keith and not to reignite their argument from before. To her surprise he was much calmer than he usually was after she had returned from previous night outs. Keith only asked her very few details on what happened. It was a far cry from other interrogations he had given her. One of the worst memories Lilly had, was when she went to the convenance store at the bottom of the flat. She and the owners’ daughters were good friends and regularly chatted to each other. One time when Lilly came home after visiting them, she found Keith in tears with his face scarlet. For a moment Lilly thought something awful had happened. “Your always with them. It’s like you cannot stand to be around me.” He sobbed. Lilly did her best to comfort and reassure Keith. For a short moment she felt she was looking after a child. The true extent of Keith’s insecurities and jealous nature seeped out like his teardrops to her for the first time. During the lockdown Lilly could tell that Keith found it strangely enjoyable with the two just being by themselves. Although she wasn’t made to feel guilty or restricted for speaking to her friends on Zoom or Facebook. Afterall, he had her all to himself in all the other times. Lilly never enforced his sort of behaviour on him with any of his friends both male and female. It was not within her nature. Lilly knew even when Keith hung around other females when she wasn’t there, he wouldn’t be unfaithful. That was a quality he had that always shock off any notions of leaving him. Lilly never felt in any danger from Keith. She found him attractive due to many factors; such as his intelligence, humour and his career as a support worker for people with physical and mental health issues. Convinced her that he was a sincere good person. Everybody who knew him always gave him much praise on his work ethnics and attitude. Keith was much shorter than Lilly which was something she found strangely appealing with male bodies. There was a slight age difference between the two. Lilly was twenty-one. Where Keith was slightly older at twenty-seven. She stayed with him despite how insecure and envious he was with her social life outside of him. Lilly had other male friends who started to see less and less. She did still keep and contact with them but over time that dwindled away. Her and Keith still had fun together. Lilly did see a generous and gentle side to Keith many times. It was only a few months into their relationship when Keith moved into Lilly’s flat. At that time they would sit up late at night and even discussed the idea of having children much further down the line. Lilly imagined him as an amazing role model. The afternoon went very well between them. Lilly even showed Keith photos she took that night. She did have a great time. But at the same was dreading what Keith would be like when she got home. Keith did not ask. Lilly had a sense of reassurance in her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. All that changed when her mobile rang. Lilly picked up and went into the other room to speak. After she finished the call Lilly knew any tranquillity between her and Keith was about to end. “Who was that?” Asked Keith. “It was Peter.” “What did he want?” “He was wondering if he could come over and stay over next week.” She said crestfallen. Keith shrugged. “I was hoping you and I could go and see a film and go for dinner instead.” Lilly knew that Keith secretly resented Peter. This really saddened her due to Peter not only being twelve. But for the sole reason of their bond as brother and sister. Lilly understood that Keith always felt jealously seeing the two together. They had a past albeit sad in parts due to their mother’s death. Even though Keith was nice to Peter. Lilly knew he hated when he came over. She theorised that he felt somehow resented their relationship. Whenever they spoke or shared a joke together the false happy demeaner put up by Keith always dissolved away. Lilly was never fooled by it. She couldn't defend Keith's way of thinking. It was beyond pety and just sad. She never hated him seeing his family or friends. However her soft and timid nature never gave her the confidence to do so. “Please we haven’t seen each other in a while.” “You’re doing this again. Putting everybody in front of me.” Snarled Keith. “Please stop thinking like this he is my family.” You know how much I love you.” Cried Lilly putting her arms around Keith. Who was sitting on the edge of the couch bent forward. He turned round and went into the bedroom and lay on the bed. Lilly followed him not knowing what to say or do to resolve the situation. She went in the room extremly tense. But knew now was the time to clear the air. Keith sat up as Lilly walked in. The two hugged however any relief they desired from it was not there. “I think you and I need to get couples therapy or counselling.” Said Lilly softly standing back. At the same time trying to hold back the tears. “Here you go again trying shove some other person between us. I just wanted to do something nice together. Look I have a lot of stress at work. Peter being here is not going to help.” I am not interested in looking after your annoying brother.” “I don’t exactly enjoy having to sneak around you and justify every conversation I have with someone.” Yelled Lilly stepping forward on her right leg. Keith saying nothing leaves the flat leaving Lilly not knowing what to do. It was around nine when he returned. The two went into hug each other. But found whatever spark they had was now gone. They then went into the bedroom saying nothing. “I don’t think what we have is healthy and should continue.” Said Lilly putting her hand on Keith’s cheek.” “You know I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings about your brother.”

Lilly nodded. But did fully believe him.

Keith then stood up and got out a rucksack and then started to pack various bits of clothes into it. He did not say anything barely making any eye contact with Lilly. As he did Lilly felt strangely sad seeing part of her life being removed. Keith then turned to her. “I am going to go stay in a hotel. I will return for the rest of my things in a few days.” “Okay call me first and please return your key.” Lilly says standing up. Keith handed it over with no resistment. The two then stared for a short while before Keith exited the flat. Lilly sat on the bed staring into every crevice and corner of the room. Every memory of her and Keith flooding back into her mind. For a while she cried before feeling strangely revitalised.

Six months later Lilly had moved into a new flat in Shawlands. She decided not to date but to simply continue on with her life. Her and Keith only saw each other when he was moving the rest of all his things out of the flat. After that she never saw or heard from Keith again. She still had his number. But just couldn't call it. Even though Lilly still loved him in some way. She knew she had made the right choice.


“Are you ready?” She swallowed hard. The whole ride up, she was trying to forget where they were going. Now, the car pulled into the driveway and she had no choice. “Bailey.” Her mother’s tone was short. Insistent. “Yeah.” Bailey followed behind her mom up the concrete path, her feet remembering the way but her heart pulling her back. Ahead of her, she heard the jangling of keys, a lock turning and the front door being opened. Hesitantly, Bailey followed her inside the familiar doorway. Everything was how her Grandmother had left it. The pale worn carpet gave way to a large living area with a wooden rocking chair set in the corner. A small jacket hung off the back, left behind. A television, radio, and spider plant framed the room’s brown spotted couch. Her Grandmother’s house was small, but was one of the warmest places she’d ever been. Now, it was stillness that said everything was wrong. Different. The rocking chair wasn’t moving and television set was dark. But it was still Grandma’s house. It was still where she had spent so many summer nights eating ice cream past bed time and was sworn to secrecy. Where she’d cried over how John had made fun of her at recess and she reassured Bailey that she was smart, strong and going to get past this. A part of Bailey wished she would see Grandma coming in from around the corner, scolding her about tracking dirt in the house. A quick glance toward the large kitchen on her right was spotless, as usual, and the bedroom was at the far end of the room. The silence was broken when she heard the sounds of drawers opening and closing. Then, more noise. “I need your help in here. Please bring a trash bag.” Wordlessly, Bailey pulled a trash bag from her pocket and unfurled it, shaking it out as she walked back into the bedroom. It was just as she remembered it, a large bed in the middle of the room with its golden metal headboard. On the left wall, a chest of drawers filled with clothing. Currently, her mom was hurriedly pulling clothing out of the drawers unto the bed. A slight breeze was coming in through an open window. “There’s a local Goodwill I’m hoping we can donate to,” she said, no trace of emotion in her voice. “I think it’s the best way we can give back because I can’t see neither of us wearing any of this clothing. Do you?” Bailey just watched as shirts and pants she’d seen Grandma wear pile up on the bed. After a few wordless moments, her mom prompted her to start working so Bailey grabbed whatever was being thrown on the bed and shoved it into the trash bag. Vaguely, she knew her mom was talking about something, but she couldn’t concentrate. All she could think about was that Grandma was gone. What had their last conversation been? How long after Christmas had it been? She was so busy with school that she couldn’t place how long ago it had actually been. She was racking her brain trying to remember the last words they’d said when she saw the applique calico cat peeking out from the pile of clothes on the bed. Pulling it out, she held up the cotton sweatshirt to look at it more clearly. Suddenly, her Grandma’s floral perfume filled her nose. “Bailey, dear, do you mind if we go to the mall today? I have some coupons I want to see if I can use at the clothes store.” A young Bailey shrugged, rolling the cherry lollipop around in her mouth. It was the dead of summer and her grandmother had volunteered to look after Bailey for the weekend while her mother had picked up an extra shift at work. They’d done a couple errands in the morning, stopping at the bank where Bailey had gotten her sweet treat, and picking up her dry cleaning. “Maybe we can stop and get ice cream after.” Bailey’s ears perked up. “Yeah?” “Of course. I’m certain I won’t spend all my money on clothes,” her Grandmother said, laughing warmly. Excitedly, Bailey kicked her legs, feeling the fabric of the car stick to her leg. As they drove, the air conditioner whirred and Bailey felt the traces of the air on the sweat rolling down her legs. “Are you excited about school starting again?” Bailey nodded, curling up her legs to her chest. “Yeah, I miss seeing my friends.” “You don’t get together with them over the summer?” “They live like forever away.” “Mom could always drive you.” “Nah, everyone’s on vacation a lot. Maybe some time they’ll take me with them.” The car turned a corner. “Oh where do they go on vacation?” “The beach.” “Oh. We’ll have to go next year, huh?” Bailey’s eyes grew wide and nodded excitedly. “Yeah! It’ll be a lot of fun.” “I’m pretty sure we can all get to the beach next year if we start saving.” The car grew silent as Bailey started to plan out how she’s save her $5 a month toward snacks and arcade games when they got there. The mall was pretty crowded when they arrived but Grandma led them past the crowds toward the clothing outlet store. It was mostly older people shopping, definitely not somewhere Bailey would find much that was “in style” for her. Still, she followed along, hoping she would finish soon and they’d get ice cream. “Oh how cute, look dear, it’s a cat!” Bailey peeked over, noting there were sequins surrounding the small applique calico cat. “Awww.” “You know most calico cats are female,” her grandma said, picking up the sweatshirt. “Really?” “Yep, so if you’ve ever seen one, it’s probably a lady.” “Good. Guys are dumb.” Grandma laughed warmly, making Bailey smile. “Oh I can’t wait to remind you of that on your wedding day...” “Ugh,” Bailey whined. “As if.” Laughing, Grandma wrapped her arms around her and Bailey squeezed tight, breathing in the smell of the floral perfume. “Bailey?” Bailey buried her head into the sweatshirt, feeling the tears roll down her face. All that she had held in since she got the news was now pouring out of her. Her body began to move, chest heaving and then as if the heavens opened, Bailey started sobbing. Once it started, she felt it rack her body. Without any power over it, she cried hard. Grandma was gone, really gone, and she wasn’t coming back. After a few moments, she felt her mother’s arms around her, holding her close. She buried her own head on the back of Bailey’s shirt. “I miss her too, Bailey. So much.” Bailey felt another pool of moisture begin to form and her powerful, strong mother began to join her. Bailey squeezed back. Hard. “She loved you so much.” At that moment, a gust of wind sent a leaf from the trees outside through the window, landing on the clothing that was piled up. “Thanks Grandma,” Bailey said, laughing through the tears.


The Colony 9 Incident The motors of the thrusters fired as we lifted off of the Exo-8175, a planet near the constellation Lyra.

I sat back in the black, cushioned seat as the g- forces pushed my body towards the back of the passenger cabin.

I remember the pilots saying the required "you might feel some discomfort during take off" speech.

Still, this was the least of my concerns now as I my mind recalled the massive explosion I had recently witnessed and all of the innocent lives that were lost. I shut my eyes during the take off sequence and I could see the images of all of the faces of the colonists. I saw the leader of the colony, a middle aged man with a brown mustache and beard and his daughter, who had just turned 20 Earth years old. There was a little boy there about 3 or 4 with red hair, being held in the arms of his mother.

They had looked to me, with eyes of someone pleading for clemency for a condemned man for assistance and I couldn't give them anything as much as I wanted to.

I failed them. " You let them die!", a voice in my head said as

the gas started putting me to sleep for the long journey back, but due some reason I fought back and struggled to remain conscious " No! I did what I had to do!

It was the only real choice!" , I screamed at the voice " Huh! Small comfort to Colony 9", it said to me in reply.

I shook myself awake again as the gas tried to coax me into sleep, but I wasn't done yet.

My trial had begun and I had to give an account of myself.

and with that thought in mind, I took out my pad, inserted small card and began a log entry.

Judicial Log: Colony 9 A month prior to my arrival, I had been called by the Council of Judhes to act as a mediator between two entities that had competing interests in the planet Exo-8175.

The two claims had been sent to Earth and had made a long journey to the powers that were and had eventually made it's way to the Council of Judges.

The council in turn, decided that they needed more information from the colony itself and had to send a representative to make the determination there on the planet itself.

For my assignment, I had to have the full dossier on Colony 9 pulled from the records as well as the planetary surveys that had been done on it 50 years ago. It took me a full day to go over all the records and claims in the government records office.

I found out that 50 years ago, a survey team determined that this planet was basically the size of Earth's moon and had an oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere and there was ample plant and animal life there. About 5 years ago, a group of naturalists that called themselves, Colony, 9 had taken everything they had with them, including animals and plant life, packed them all on an old, broken down freighter from the junkyards around Ceres and left Earth and headed for Exo-8175 with the intent of making a colony there away from what they called, the chaotic administrations of the Ruling Council and the revival of the "Manifest Destiny" doctrine which basically stated "if we can see it, then it's ours" The other group that liked Exo-8175 was the Space Military Industrial Complex known as the Cadre and they had filed a claim on this planet as well for mining operations as well as a supply base for military fleet.

The planet was rich in mineral resources and it's location would give Earth Central a foot hold in that system for more expansion. The political climate back on Earth didn't help matters.

The Ruling council was divided on how to handle the two claims and had not made any official designation for the planet's use once it had been surveyed.

One faction sided with the "Manifest Destiny" doctrine and was eager to have the colonists removed as quickly and expeditiously as possible so that the military build up could begin.

The other faction was more aligned with the Colony 9 pacifists and had wanted to make sure that the colonists had a fair chance at making a viable colony independent of Earth Central, which didn't sit well with a lot of the other side who considered such an act as treasonous. Since the Ruling Council couldn't agree, the matter was sent to the Judiciary to decide and the Council of Judges, not wanting to make a decision sent me to the colony to basically be the fall guy if anything went wrong. I realized this part when I had finished reading the history and the dossier. The Council had given me the full authority to declare the status of Exo-8175. After a month long journey in sleep stasis,

met with the leader of COLONY 9, a man named Mark Lewis, and his daughter, Caroline at their home which was fashioned out the native rocks and mud.

and the kitchen was using an old style earth-oven that was something hadn't been seen in centuries since most of the food on Earth Central was preprocessed. The whole domicile was oddly ornate and almost mirrored a luxury hotel room in a sort of rustic way.

I felt that somehow, I had traveled to museum representation of early construction.

I had to admire the work. Mark explained the colonist's position on Exo-8175 at his dinner table, while eating a salad prepared from the local food on the planet. " You see," he said " the doctrine of Manifest Destiny works for us as well.

We agree with Earth Central that we humans do need to expand; we just disagree on how to do it.

Here, we just work within the environment rather than just marching in destroying it in favor of our old environment of plastics and steel". " Yes, " I said, taking a bite of the salad.

"I have to admit, I admire what you have done here. However, you must realize that it's going to take me than your interpretation of Manifest Destiny to convince the Council of Judges.

What else can you tell us? " " Well, the food here is plentiful, if you know how to prepare it and it could help Earth with food shortages there.

Our experiences here could be very useful to Earth.

This salad for instance contains a lettuce that has as much iron and vitamin content as a our own spinach, which is almost extinct, I might add, yet the flavor is entirely different.

The nuts in the toppings contain as much protein as our protein shakes.

Why there is enough supply here that we could end the food shortage on Earth and other colonies as well. All we need as the chance to prove that." "Earth has lost much when the land mass was used for more buildings, parking lots and as a result, there is a food shortage.

You know that everything is rationed on Earth." " You got Dad started and now he won't stop" she said as came in with drinks.

Her long, tropical print skirt, flowed and swayed with the motion of her movements.

She sat down to join us. "Ah yes! My own personal, peanut gallery here in the colony!" With a sarcastic bow, Caroline continued the conversation.

" This drink is made from a type of mint that grows here and only here and only in certain seasons." It was hard for me to describe the taste of this drink except to say that I definitely tasted the mint and something else that was like mango and orange.

"An excellent drink! " I said to her, savoring the tropical concoction with interest. It gave me the impression of being something that you would drink at the beach, lounging on the chairs and watching a sunset over the ocean. I wondered if this could revive a tourism industry

" Caroline has a natural affinity for botany.

She was at the top of her class back on Earth.' " Yes, I can see that " I said while sipping the drink " Well," I began as I stood up. " You have given me a lot to think about tonight. Tomorrow, the military representative will be here and her will present his case to me as well. After that, I will have to make a determination on the case.

I appreciate the hospitality you have given me." After that, I went back to the ship and rested in the cabin falling asleep to the faint sounds of alien birds flying in

the silver light of a double moon.

The morning came and I heard the unmistakable

roar of a military ship landing nearby and leaving scorched land in its wake.

Obviously, the Cadre had arrived and I got up from my bunk and got ready to meet with this representative who seemed to have brought a whole platoon with him.

They marched in unison towards my ship with the representative ahead of them.

His face was devoid of any sort of emotion except that of disdain which seemed to radiate amongst the entire company. There was a brisk knock on my cabin door as the pilot informed me of their arrival.

I had already changed and met the representative in the forward section of the ship which housed a plastic and steel conference table.

The representative was

a certain Captain Jennings, who greeted me rather stiffly and produced a packet of documents and pushed the lot in my hands without saying a word. I grasped the packet and looked at it while he stood at the entrance, stone-faced. The packet contained the text of the Military's claim on the Exo-8175 and restated the same claim, word for word what I read in the dossier and had the same beginning.. "We the people of the Earth Central, do declare that stars in the heavens are ours by right of Manifest Destiny and we shall take them by any means necessary.. etc etc..." and concluding with something about the importance of Earth's military might being supreme in all of the universe and hailing the great Emperor(who had been dead for 50 years and had no heir).

This was obviously some sort of power grab by the Cadre. I sighed as a I placed the packet down on the table. The papers spilled out of the file almost as if an old fashioned card dealer had laid them out for display. "Do you have anything to add?"

I asked Captain Jennings. He shook his head and left as stiffly as he had come, leaving me with the decision. I knew that this case had become a political football back on Earth and it was up to me and any decision I made would cause issues back on Earth and I would get the full blame. Talk about falling on your own sword. I examined the claims based on the claims alone looking as well as considering all the points of law that we had available that would be relevant to the case.

Then I considered the benefits and costs on both sides and both politically and the consequences for granting a claim to either party. If I granted the claim to the Colony 9 contingent, it would mean more civil unrest on Earth.

The Cadre would say that Council of Judges had usurped the power of the Throne and the Ruling Council and stir up more trouble until all out war ensued. If I granted the claim to the Cadre, then Colony 9 would be finished and the colonists would have no chance and they would have to go home as quickly as possible and there would also be more unrest on Earth.

Either choice would mean civil unrest and possible war. I hung my head trying to find a solution to this one.

"Mediate the dispute"

I was told by the Council of Judges.

Well,

I thought to myself, perhaps if I stick to the letter of the directive, I wouldn't have to actually make the decision but would just help the two parties to come to some sort of agreement, although, I held no illusions that this idea would be easy. I tried to meet with both the Cadre and the Colony leaders the next day at the colony's meeting hall an effort to get them talking.

I presented the issue at hand which was that I could not make a decision based on the Manifest Destiny claim alone since the Ruling Council had not approved a use for the this planet so the claims would be invalid on those grounds, so I gave them an alternative choice. They could share the planets resources in a sort of compromise

or they could both leave the planet empty handed and return to Earth.

Each party would develop Exo-8175 in their own way and contribute to the prosperity of Earth. Colony 9 was open to compromise but the Cadre representative, Capt. Jennings remained stone-face as ever and was visibly offended that he would be told to "go back to Earth empty-handed" After I presented my proposal, Captain Jennings began to talk cordially to Mark Lewis about sharing the resources.

The conversation went on for about a few hours as they talked. I decided to wait outside while they ironed out some kind of agreement.

I sat down at the bar in the foyer of the meeting hall and had the bartender make the lovely drink I had that first night.

I saw the boy watching me.

I smiled at him, as his mother came and picked him up.

I watched her go as he turned his head over her should and waved good bye to me as she walked out of the hall into the yellowish green sunlight. A few minutes, later, Mark and Captain Jennings came back from their talk.

Jennings left the building without speaking which left me with Mark. "Well?" I asked Mark. "He's unhappy about the arrangements", began Mark, "but he sort of gave me the impression that he would work within the confines of the law, whatever that may mean."

He pulled up a bar stool and got a drink for himself as well. "Very well, I can report to Earth that your two parties will be working together?" He handed me a draft copy of an agreement he had recorded.

"I explained that given the choice, we could both leave or we could both win"

and shrugged his shoulders.

"He seemed to agree to that piece of it and decided he would come back tomorrow so that we can decide what parts of this planet they want, you know, the boundaries, and so on." I held the silver tube containing the drive in my hand and glanced up at the blue sky that was partially obscured by the canopy of something like palm fronds and inhaled the smell of citrus letting it fill me. "Well,"

I said. "It sounds like mission accomplished and we have at least held off a civil war on Earth it seems.

Congratulations!"

"it's as they say... a step in the right direction, ay?"

he said as he took my extended hand. "Yes"

I said with a pause. "It is." The next morning, I was loading everything in the ship and getting ready for my departure.

I took a look around the area before I left and I saw that all was quiet.

The Colony 9 residents were still sleeping apparently, so I decided not to disturb them. I got into my cabin after instructing the pilot that we had completed our loading and we should get underway as soon as possible to present this draft agreement to the Council.

The ships anti-grav repulsors pushed us off of the ground slowly at first and then accelerated as we got closer to the trees.

I took one last look at the colony just in time to see the entire compound explode in flames.

I could barely make out some human figures as the fire licked its way through the flesh in a greedy frenzy.

I had never witnessed such cruelty. "You did this!" the voice said again. "No!

The Cadre did this! I could do nothing!" "Not true.

You could have saved them by deciding

in their favor."

While having this conversation with my tormentor or my conscience, I was also fighting the sleeping gas.

I took the log I had just written and also retrieved the draft contract.

I added my log to the encoded silver cylinder and waited.

After the ship left orbit, the gas came in my cabin more strongly but I had to stay awake just long enough... I took the encoded cyclinder to the back of the cabin and used the garbage disposal unit to get the cyclinder out of the ship hoping that someone would find it.

After that, I let the gas take me and I collapsed in the cabin just before the missiles hit us.

The cadre doesn't leave loose ends. I


By the time I stepped outside of my house, the leaves were on fire. Literally. It was so, super hot. The whole reason I even had to step outside was to get a break from that stupid party of my sister’s. She got into Oxford. So what? It doesn’t mean that you should get a whole party! (Alright fine, maybe she does deserve it, but still!) Mark my words, I’m going to be even better than her. I’m going to be one of the first astronauts to get into The Skeld, the first spaceship to Mars. Humanity has been so careless of their surroundings. I remembered something my history teacher had taught me in class, about the ice caps. They melted thirty years ago, which made Earth so hot. I blame it all on my dad and grandfather. It’s their generations’ fault that this even happened! I ran into Candlewood Forest, thinking it would help me cool down. Weak twigs snapped with each step of mine, and the wind whistled in my ears. I reached a spot in the woods looking up to the night sky. I could see the moon playing hide-and-seek, hiding within the cottony clouds. A shooting star shot through the night, casting a long, fiery tail behind it as it entered the atmosphere. Wait for what. Shooting stars didn’t enter the atmosphere. This meant that thing was something else. It came closer and closer towards me, before crashing into a place a few hundred meters ahead of me. The first sounds I heard after that was the sound of trees creaking and breaking down. Then the extraterrestrial object crashed and bounced towards me. I heaved myself out of the way at the last second. The object stopped a few seconds later, leaving a flaming mess behind it. It looked like a futuristic shoe, with a black background and purple highlights. It was giving off smoke at the rear, where I thought the engines would be. My brain told me to go closer and explore it, while my instincts told me to hide. I chose my instincts. I ran, keeping about fifty feet between me and the ship, before hiding behind a tree. A hatch started to open at the top of the rocket. Out climbed a scary looking ... thing. An alien It had horns running from the forehead, curving and twisting until reaching an end at the top. Its mouth was bared, showing fangs as long as my hand. It ran on four legs like a monkey, mainly using its hind ones for pushing and front ones for support. Four more aliens trailed after it, one looking even more menacing than the first. They gathered around the hatch and “communicated” by which I mean they growled at each other for about five minutes. Suddenly, a figure stumbled through the woods and straight into the clearing the aliens were in. It was a man, from what the silhouette looked like. He took one glance at the creatures and shrieked. He turned around and ran through the forest, occasionally tripping over the roots of trees. One of the aliens tore through the woods, in search of the man who had intruded the scene. It came back nearly two minutes later, clutching the corpse of the man. He presented it to its friends and threw it on the ground. The biggest alien, the Alpha, as I call it, crawled towards it. It studied the body closely, and abruptly tore off the head. I’m glad it was night time, it would’ve been horrible to witness all this.

The alien stared into those lifeless eyes and promptly gulped it down. A strange change happened inside the Alpha’s body. It seemed as if it was vibrating. A ripping sound came, and the alien split into two halves. Out came the body of the dead man. Or was it the dead man? The corpse was still lying upon the ground. The “man” must be something else. Maybe it was the alien itself!

They’re shapeshifters! I stepped back, and in doing so, the aliens’ heads shot towards my direction. But before they could do anything, a loud “BEEP!” sounded, and the creatures ran pell-mell into the woods. Perhaps it just came from a car nearby. I waited for five whole minutes to make sure they were gone. Then I ran. Ran for my life, my future, and my dreams. 5 years later Finally. I’m aboard the Skeld. The spaceship of your dreams. Not really though, because ever since the alien threat, every mission has been dangerous. They could morph into humans and act as Skeld crewmates. That’s why the trips are so dangerous. No one knows who’s an impostor or a crewmate. Anyone can kill you. As Mad-Eye Moody says, we need, “CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” As for the ventilation system, it’s useless. Scientists have figured out that the alien, or Covens as we now call them, give off toxic chemicals from their body. Since there have been eyewitness accounts, we know the Covens have been in the vents. So it’s a no-go. Of course, other Covens can enter the vents, since the chemical isn’t lethal to them. I put on my helmet and walked into the docking ship. It would take us to the Skeld, which was too big to be launched from the ground. As I waited, others began to enter the ship. I don’t know their names, just their colors. I’m Cyan, by the way. In came Red, Black, White, Yellow, Pink, and Green. I didn’t talk to any of them, because I didn’t know who I could trust. We each had a task upon the Skeld, and we could only start the journey to Mars after each of us has completed it.  Why? Because every time the Skeld comes back, it needs servicing. The hatch closed behind us and off we went. It took us ten minutes to reach, and once we were there, everyone left without a word. I checked my tablet to see what my tasks were. Okay, I have to go to Electrical and fix up the wiring. No big deal. Just the threat of death lurking over your life every time you see someone. I went there and saw Red and White doing their “tasks.” I stayed far from both of them, doing my job silently, It was simple, just attaching color-coded wires. Soon after, I decided to go to Admin to check the cameras. Unfortunately, they only show black and white, so I can’t differentiate between colors. I checked each and every one. No suspicious behavior. I turned them off and left the room, checking my tablet for my next task: Divert Power to O2. Sounds easy enough. But it is also dangerous. I decided to take a shortcut through the cafeteria, doing my other task which was to empty the garbage. Suddenly, as I was walking towards it, the cafeteria doors shut with a bang. I was startled out of my wits and looked around quickly and cautiously to see if there was anyone else with me. There was. Yellow. Standing right in front of me, banging on the door, was Yellow. He looked at me and backed away, his body shaking in fear. I didn’t go near him, just in case, he thought I was a Coven/Impostor. I just quietly waited for the doors to open. During the elapsed time I finished taking out the garbage AKA throwing it away into space.

Once the gates finally opened, I was back on my way to Electrical. Once I reached, I saw Red coming out and going towards the right engine. He hadn’t seen me. Only that prepared me for the sight I was about to see inside. It was Yellow’s body, cut cleanly in half, only leaving a single bone in the middle. Blood oozed out in all directions. I gaped at her body for a long moment, before pulling out my tablet and hitting “Report Body.” A chat box popped into view. It was meant to discuss who the Coven was. There was also a voting window beneath it. I saw that particular window and skimmed it. None were dead but Yellow, who had a large, red “X” on top of her. I went back to the discussion: Red: Where? Me: In electrical. I saw you coming out of it. Red: I swear I did not do it! White: I was in the cafeteria. Green was there with me. Green: I was. Me: VOTE RED EVERYONE! HE KILLED YELLOW! Cyan has voted White has voted Red: I didn’t do it! Green has voted Pink has voted Black has voted I glanced back into the voting window. Yup. Red’s had the most votes. That means he gets ejected. The Skeld has special trap doors that open to space. They can detect the color that was voted out, and eject them. Well, hopefully, Red was an Impostor. And hopefully, we’ll all just be safe.

I spent the rest of my time finishing off my tasks, and when I had nothing to do, I just checked the security cameras every now and then. I was walking around near O2, checking for any more suspicious activity when I saw White following me closely. I took one glance at her and ran for my life. Everything went past me in a blur, and I soon found myself face to face with a door. The door that led to the cafeteria. I turned my head around to see White standing in front of me. She walked closer, and I was leaning and pounding on the door. Suddenly, it opened, and I fell flat on my face, maybe even breaking my nose. I got up and sprinted over to the middle table. It had a red button on it, and I clicked it. That called for an emergency meeting. Green: What happened? Me: White was acting suspiciously. Kept on following me. White: I was just following you to see if you were acting sus! Me: It looked pretty shady to me though. I think she was ghosting me to kill me. She could be a Coven. Green: Yeah, you’re right. White: I am not a Coven! I think you’re an impostor Cyan. Me: She’s turning the tables on me! More proof! Vote White! Cyan has voted White has voted Black has voted Green has voted Pink has voted I looked at the voting window to see the results. White had four votes. I had one. White had voted for me, probably trying to frame me. So now White, Red, and Yellow are gone. There’s a big chance one of them was a Coven. Hopefully. I was scouting the remaining people, searching for suspicious activity, when the reactor had a meltdown. Everyone rushed to it to fix it, but one arrived late. Green. I regarded this as suspicious behavior and proceeded to stalk him. I followed him everywhere, into Admin, into Navigations, and even O2. He was trying hard to shake me off his tail, but I managed to stay on him. But when we entered Admin, he suddenly turned on his heel and ran off at top speed. I decided that publicly following Green was unwise, and I searched for him again. In about five to ten minutes, I found him back into Admin. I peered around the door and saw him standing on top of the vent. He looked around and pulled out the screws. He lifted the hatch and slid inside. He’s the Impostor among us! This fact made me happy, and sad at the same time. Happy, because I could finally save the survivors. Sad, because of the two innocent lives that were taken away by me. I gathered my wits and ran silently to the cafeteria. I pressed the red button once more. Before looking at the discussion page, I scanned the one which listed all the people on board. The system is connected with a special badge that is on everyone’s spacesuit. It read their vital signs and told the computer who’s dead and who’s not. Pink was dead. The only other crewmate left was Black. I quickly went back to the discussion. Black: Pink’s dead. Green: Yeah Me: You should know Green, after all, you killed him. Black: Really? Green: No! I think you or Black did it, Cyan. Me: I saw Green run into Admin and vent. I was following him and I saw him slither into it. Black: I’m not sure who to trust … Green: Trust me. Cyan is framing me. Look how many innocent crewmates he voted off. He must be the Coven. Me: Black, ignore Green. Listen, this can be one of the most important moments of your whole life. If we let Green get into the Mars colony, a whole bunch of people will die. Trust me, please. Black: Green’s got a point Cyan, you did vote off a bunch of people. Me: I made mistakes. I was paranoid. People make mistakes all the time. But do you want those people to die in vain? Pink, Red, and White? Black: No … Me: Then vote Green. Please trust me, just this once. Black: Okay. But if Green’s innocent, you’ll have me to answer to. Cyan has voted Green: Look, Black. You gotta trust me, ‘kay? I did not kill those people. Cyan did. Black: I trust Cyan. Die, you filthy Coven! Black has voted Green has voted Green was ejected Finally. The impostor was gone. All was well.


Today the phone won’t ring. She checked as soon as she woke up. Dead breath in her mouth. The guy next to her--an aberration. He should have gone home. She made it explicitly clear to him that under no circumstances could he stay the night. He said he just wanted to rest his eyes while he waited for his Lyft. Now here he is. He’s upset the balance. She should beat him to death with the coffeepot, but that would only derail the morning further. Once he’s up and out ( “I’ll call you when I’m back from Fiji. Big things going on there. Really big. Can’t even talk about them.” ) she checks her email. She checks it every morning at nine oh three. It’s nine twenty-seven. There are no emails. She is going to have a bad morning. She is going to have the worst morning. Her habits are simple: Wake up at nine. Email at nine oh three. The phone call comes at nine thirty. Today the phone call will not come at nine thirty. In fact, there will be no phone call at all. She will check several times while knowing the entire time that she has royally destroyed the routine with her carelessness. All because she went out to a Peruvian restaurant and brought home one of the waiters. He gave her extra bread sticks. On a cloth napkin, he’d written his number in sharpie. The audacity of ruining a napkin had aroused her. She called him as soon as she got in the door and promised herself that she’d have him out before two or three at the latest. The trust that she puts in herself after several glasses of wine is laughable. A message from her mother came through and she promptly responded that she did not care who was getting a divorce, because men failed to excite or even intrigue her these days. The Peruvian waiter was an exception in a long line of exceptions, but she’d been damned if she let her mother foist another crying divorcee on her all because she was always coming home for the holidays with perfectly wrapped gifts and no boyfriend. When receiving the phone call, she was supposed to dictate a series of words over the phone. Once that was done, she could go about her day, which usually consisted of Tim Burton films-- one or two, but always Beetlejuice --and takeout from whichever menu had squirrels its way to the top of the drawer next to the stove. No phone call meant no movies, no Winona Ryder, and a skipped lunch. A disruption of her routine meant that she wouldn’t be hungry--not for days. That would help with the bathing suit she’d purchased online that had come in three sizes too small, but it meant that she was going to be angry all the time unless she forced herself to eat one of the stale bagels that are always sitting on her kitchen table. There was no point in getting dressed. She paced back and forth in her apartment wearing only her Panic! At the Disco t-shirt and the gym shorts she bought back when she thought she might at least begin a flirtation with the gym. The phone buzzes. Her excitement is cut short when she recognizes that the buzz is not the buzz of a text message, which would still not be a phone call, but would be better than the reminder that she only has two free articles left to read this month from the New York Times. She only reads the New York Times when there’s a piece about unrest, because unrest is the subject of her daily phone calls, but today there could be a thousand words on every page of the paper about revolutions and assassinations, and she would only be able to get the edited version of the history she’s meant to be enacting. Her words were good today--Sandstorm, Throw Pillow, Angst. She would have delivered them with a crisp articulation that would have made her contact recommend her for a promotion. Something to take her out of the suburbs where she has to eat Peruvian on Friday’s just to feel metropolitan. Other than the place with the cloth napkins, it’s all fast food and nail salons. She doesn’t get her nails done in case she gets a call to come into the field. You can’t have long nails in the field. Everyone knows that. Everyone knows you can’t screw up your morning with an unwanted guest either, but here she is. It’s a quarter to twelve--no phone call. No text. No email from the contact--not that they ever would email anyway. She might be removed from the program for this. They don’t hand out demerits. No warnings. No one strike, two strikes, and the third means you’re out. One miss and you’ve jeopardized yourself and the dissidents in Romania or wherever else there was turmoil. The bagels fill up her mouth with such density she expects to choke. It would be a reprieve for whatever is coming next. Her apartment smells like the air fryer she used days ago in a misguided attempt at making healthy curly fries. She should have known better. Sucking the toxins out of anything will render it inedible. At least to her. A birthday cake candle is lit. She brings up YouTube on her television and puts on Nina Simone. It’ll steady her nerves. Her mother messages with more information on the divorcee. It was a nasty separation, but no kids, which means the marriage practically never happened. One quick search of the guy through her database reveals that he once hit a man with his car and kept going. Her mother has good intentions, but she’s a horrible judge of character. That or she just wants her daughter married off as soon as possible no matter the risks. The car he was driving was brand new. It had to have needed work after that, and once you bring a car into the shop you never stop bringing it in. Today the phone won’t ring. She sits on her couch and listens to “Feeling Good.” The volume on the television is far too loud, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t want to hear the crack or the sound of the bullet hitting the back of the couch. They’ll miss her the first time, but not the second. Even then, it’ll be just the shoulder. That’ll give her time to get a few shots in before they realize that they should have just left her in the program. Six years and she’s never missed a phone call, but one mistake means you have to be removed. To hell with them. Everybody’s entitled to one bad day.


A small, meek man walked down the street. He held a physics book under one arm and took each stride with purpose and valour. He quickly pushed his hair to the side in a quiff as his mind began to race on what his thesis could actually be; theorems and formulae that were far too complex or specific smashed themselves around his head like bats screeching within a cave, clouding his thoughts in dark, leathery wings. The sun beat down on his scalp as he restyled his hair into the aforementioned quiff. He pushed his glasses up his sweaty nose as he passed a towering woman with a very fierce yet beautiful structure. He took her into account as he approached, she seemed to be celebrating the deployment of the atomic bomb on Nagasaki -- ‘ Like all those other murderous hooligans’ the man thought as he shook his head, locking away his monologue and smiling at the parade and then at the man next to-

Electricity fizzled throughout his entire being and he stopped in his tracks.

That beautiful woman was staring at him, he could feel it on his back -- like some sixth sense. He turned to look at her and their eyes met. The electricity burst throughout him and he felt elated. It was as if God himself was pulling him up to Heaven and pushing him down to Hell simultaneously as their lives together flashed before his eyes. He stood there dumbstruck. The woman revealed her pearly, white teeth in a smile and winked at him… He had to go up and talk to her, he had to. Pieces of spaghetti dragged his torso along the sidewalk as he approached the personification of Eden. He stopped about ten metres before her realising how abhorrently out of his league she was. She caught his eye again, giving him a small wave and delicately walked off -- a testament to the limitless bounds of beauty.

The door closed as if it were the back end of a book and she collapsed on the bed. The shadows from the curtains stretched over the ceiling and she watched them slowly creep to the edges of the room. Suddenly, she sat up as she reminded herself to reapply her make-up. The woman looked in the mirror to see her hauntingly beautiful features staring back at her, her cheeks were ignited with a rosemary pink as she dabbed them gently, her mascara struck the top of her eyelashes, and her nose, her nose… the most peculiar of abnormalities… her nose began to grow. It was very strange at first, but her once petite and perfect nose began to grow into a horrifying, grotesque hook akin to that of a witch’s. Her eyes began to move in opposite directions as she realised how unsymmetrical they were -- as if her face was designed to be purposefully surreal -- when did her teeth get so mustard with disgusting plaque and were her lips really that chapped? She stood up in disgust as she moved away from the little mirror. She closed her eyes for a while, panting gently as her heart slowed down its imperative sprint. When the world reappeared before her, she saw herself standing an arm’s length away. “ This must be what going crazy feels like” the woman thought, before realising that what she saw before her was not actually her physical form in flesh, but purely a reflection from the large mirror that stood at the back of her room. Her face was back to its aesthetic perfection. Was it the dress that made her stomach look as if it were protruding slightly? She ran her hands down her frame and shivered, was she getting… fatter ? No, no, she was far too young, she took a closer look in the mirror to see that -- yes -- it had just been the angle from which she was standing that gave that impression, that's all. Something soft yet teeth-grindingly aggravating stroked the sole of her foot, she bent down and came up with a small piece of paper she had drawn on. It was a baby and a pram in Hell. She lay back on the bed, chuckling to herself, as thoughts of that silly man she had seen today swam around her head. The electricity she had felt. It was almost comical that she could feel that way about such a shrimp . Her chuckles became a very ambiguous sound as she tried to label exactly what it was she kept feeling, in that room alone, staring at the ceiling. The sanctuary for his focus arrived in the shape of the library. The man would make his way there, knowing that the aroma and silence were bound to make him see clearly. “I hate love” the man thought, catching himself on that last word. He sat, pondering about everyone he has ever known, ever will know, would they compare to her? He hurriedly got up, fleeing away from the depressing thought’s harrowing claws.

He couldn’t have been more correct if he tried; he sat in the middle of the library, smiling to himself as he felt the atmosphere crash over him like a tidal wave of nectar. The smell, the silence, the books, the tranquil, quiet footsteps of the librarian guarding her palace -- keeping chaos and confusion at bay. The crisp sound of a page turning like leaves crunching under feet, the leathery feel of the spine of his physics book, the electricity… the electricity he suddenly felt as she walked in. Suddenly none of it mattered anymore, none of it. How she stood there, Aphrodite’s bias on creation. He approached her meekly. He couldn’t mess this up again,

“Umm…” he gulped as her pearl blue eyes broke through to his very soul, “Oh, hello there…” The woman smiled a pirate’s smile and winked at the man, she slowly moved out her hand for him to kiss,

“Oh, umm…” Awkwardly the man put out his hand and shook hers, she wrinkled her nose, “I-I’m Arthur” a soft, british accent licked the inside of the woman’s ear, “Nice to meet you, Arthur ” She giggled “It’s nice to meet you, uh” suddenly Arthur had an impulse, he knew her name -- her beauty inspired only one suitable label -- “ Mary ” The woman smiled at him, “My name is Alice ” “Oh… And what is your last name,

Alice? ” that question sounded a lot less intrusive in front of the bathroom mirror, The woman’s smile faltered a little before returning to its flirtatious state, “Atwood, Alice Utwood” “ Ah, that’s a nice name…” Silence filled his mind, cymbals crashing over an orchestra, his palms sweated as if he had just been swimming through the tumultuous currents of the River Nile. “Say Arthur, you look like you could use a drink to calm you down, why don’t you come along with me?”

“No thanks, I’ve got to go to the thesis to work on my physics section” Arthur’s legs drove him away as his mind stayed behind, his veins pumped with self-hatred. His finger ran through the phone book as he searched for Alice’s last name. Was it Atwood or Utwood ? Her flirtatious accent had sprayed a cloud of ambiguous mist over her crucial surname, he reformed his hair into a strong quiff in order to let out his frustration. “Ah!” he had found the name Alice Atwood and… “Ah ha!” he exclaimed. There was no such person with the name Alice Utwood, well they didn’t have a phone at the very least. He pain-stakingly rotated the dial, he felt as if he were reversing a clock. “Hulloh?” a deep, gravelly voice answered the phone, it leered over him, Arthur could almost feel it readying itself to claw out his Adam’s Apple, “Sorry to bother you, sir,” After hearing the voice on the phone, his own voice sounded very high and nasally, he cowered behind the microphone: “Can Alice answer the phone?”

Arthur assumed this was Alice’s father. A menacing silence ensued, “Who is this?” the voice replied darkly, “I am… an old friend of Alice’s” he coughed “from her schooling years”, “Alice went to an all-American, all-girls school” Arthur felt strangely flattered by the stranger, maybe his voice was more deep and gravelly than he first believed, “...I smoke very heavily” he said in a cheap New York accent. The deep voice seemed to be unfathomably satisfied with this answer and called out: “ALICE, BABY! IT'S FOR YOU!” There was a slight pause and then “I don’t know who it is, sugarplum , just one of your old smoker friends from highschool” another slight pause, “Well, how was I supposed to know you didn’t go to highschool? Just answer the phone, this is the last thing I need today!” This obviously was not the right Alice.

Arthur’s blood ran cold from the minute he heard “ sugarplum ”. He was about to lift the receiver and slam the phone down, when her voice swam its way smoothly into her ear -- a dolphin pushing itself with ease through paradisiacal waters to find its true love. “Hello?” Electricity. Earth shattering, catastrophic electricity. The line hung up as Alice repeatedly said “Hello?” into the phone, “Why is it screaming at me?” she finally exclaimed. “That means they’ve hung up, honey-pie , their line’s disconnected. They must have been asking for a different Alice ”, “Oh.” Her heart dropped. She began to edge her way back up the stairs to her room, to her ceiling. “Say, Alice, how long have you been spending up in that room? You’re looking a bit more…” His deep, gravelly voice trailed off as he searched for the right word: “... piggish than usual” “I’ll try that new diet you recommended to me yesterday , and I’ll see if I have time for a run tomorrow…” “I think the diet might be a good idea” the 6 foot 3 inch brute of a man smiled at her reassuringly, it depressed Alice that she had to label that buffoon as her boyfriend , “However, I don’t think you should go through with the running, best case scenario the neighbours will be thinking you’re trying too hard and we would not want that, would we ?” “No.”

She felt so small. Just then, a basket of clothes came into the kitchen -- held by Alice’s mother -- her boyfriend greeted her, saying: “You hear that she wants to go for a run tomorrow!”

Her mother chuckled,

“Oh, seriously darling, ‘running’ is not a proper thing a lady should be doing to keep fit, have you tried putting some good elbow-grease into your ironing? That’ll do the trick”, “I’ll try” Alice mumbled defeatedly, “Honestly,” Her boyfriend laughed, “they’d be calling you hysterical”, “Yeah…” Alice accepted as she began to retreat back to her room, where she would watch the shadows creep across the ceiling. Alice’s stomach clawed the flesh off of her oesophagus as it begged for any food to replenish its emaciated fashion, but Alice’s fork held the maximum amount of salad she could manage without risking public embarrassment. Despite this, she was rather pleased with herself. She had created a new dress for special occasions -- such as this one -- in order to seem more lady-like and put together in front of her mother, as well as the ever watching needles of the public: weaving her past, present and future off a single reference. She had even made the effort to tell her boyfriend and mother that she would be wearing the dress out tonight. However, neither made an effort to say anything, and soon she fell back into famished depression. Once her boyfriend had slurped up his spaghetti, he sat back and looked at her lustily, licking his lips. She smiled neatly back at him, her small hand trembling. “Really, Alice?” Her mother sighed, “I’m sorry, mother?” She watched as her mother cringed away everytime she even talked or opened her mouth, “Alice, it's disgusting,” her mother physically gagged, a lump formed in Alice’s throat, “you have a leaf stuck between your teeth” “Oh my goodness! I am so sorry!” Alice attempted in vain to hide her mouth as she tried to pick at her teeth with her finger, “For Christ sakes we are in public, you silly girl!” “I’m sorry, it’s not coming out” A tear fell into Alice’s salad. It was as if she was balancing spinning plates, except there were six plates on her nose, ten in each hand, five on each toe and she was in a crashing aeroplane.

Suddenly, she felt electricity tickle up her spine. “Y-y-your dress looks nice, I think” It was Arthur, her hero, “Thank you” she smiled, that leaf still lodged between her teeth,

“No prob-” Arthur caught sight of her boyfriend and went sickly pale, without a word he speedwalked off. “What a blunderbuss!” Alice’s boyfriend laughed as Arthur tripped on his way past him, “Oh, honey, you’ve still got that wretched leaf in your mouth, please deal with it. You’re not a cow munching on grass, are you ?” Black tears fell, daggers from heaven, onto Alice’s salad as she struggled to repress her sobs, it was no use and her sobbing began to crescendo. The orchestra readied for climax. “Now, honey, don’t cause a scene”

Her boyfriend awkwardly placed his hand on top of hers, like a brick squashing cement. “Please stop crying, angel, people will think you’re mentally insane.” he kissed her on her wet cheek -- the violinists propped their instruments under their chins, the horns pursed their lips -- “there, there, buttercup, blossom for me please? Just for me?” And the orchestra erupted.

Timpani smashed the paintings off the esteemed restaurant walls, the table cloth was ripped straight off as the strings lead powerful modulation after modulation, the virtuoso stood up as they played such a heart-wrenching and painful melody that it made the owners of the restaurant come to the front in curious outrage. Tears splashed onto the keys of the piano as fast, chordally progressive arpeggios flipped the entire table upside down.

Diminuendo followed the woman as she fled the scene, crying and crying and crying until she didn’t even know how to. She found an alleyway between two buildings and sat at the edge of it, below a balcony.  Electricity.

And there he was, Arthur, she had never felt love, so she would never know if this was it. Arthur got down on one knee, her stomach did a flip, “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, “Please leave me alone.” “Look, I saw what happened in there, everything actually. And that wasn’t right.” Arthur tried, Alice replied with a heavy silence, Arthur took the message. “I’m really sorry, I thought I could say something, like they do in the movies or something but obviously I was-” “Do you feel it?” Alice said, Arthur thought she had never looked so beautiful, with her golden hair flowing through her hands supporting her head.

“Sorry?” He said in admiration, “Do you feel it? Everytime we see each other? Everytime we keep bumping into one another?” “I do” Her stomach did another flip, Arthur sat down next to her, it began to rain but the balcony above covered their heads, “ Alyssa , I think I love you” Arthur smiled, Alice chuckled to herself as her sobs mimicked the pattern of the rain. Today was the day, it didn’t matter how big her ‘boyfriend’ was!

Arthur was going to ask Alyssa’s mother for her daughter’s hand in marriage. He’d already asked Alyssa but she said she would get back to him next week and that he should come to her house when he felt ready, but he was already confident in her answer; he had been there for her when she was at her lowest, he had confided in her his stresses about writing his thesis, he’d like to see her bull-dog looking boyfriend do that! His knuckle met the face of the door as if it were St Peter at the gates of Heaven. Alyssa’s mother answered. “Is Alyssa home?” Arthur asked confidently, “Do you mean Alice? Yes, she’s in.” “Good! First though, I wanted to ask you something…” He hid the ring in his hand but she had already seen it, she winked at him and nodded,

“You have my approval, she’s upstairs” Arthur grinned so wide his mouth almost burst off his face, he laughed out loud as he hugged her mother,

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he exclaimed, “I won’t let you down!” and he sprinted up the stairs… “Alyssa! Alyssa!” he called…

Once he arrived at the top of the stairs, the air seemed to disappear from the world. The slight creak of a rocking chair was heard in a room two doors away from him. “Alyssa?” He turned into the room to see two empty eyes smiling back at him.

His face dropped, the room stunk. “Yes?” Alice barely spoke, her lips just formed the words behind heavy breath, “Your mother approved of our engagement, we’re going to be married!” “Oh my, thats nice” Alice sat slightly dazed on the rocking chair, “I’ll have a big family, I won’t have to worry about it anymore”, Arthur stood there, perplexed. What was the matter with her? “Darling, I don’t think you understand what I’m saying to you… We’re going to be married! With children! It’s going to be amazing!” “Hmmm… yes, children” She chuckled, “I’ll have a big family, and I will not have to worry about it anymore” silence stank out the room, “I’ve had an operation”

Arthur moved forward towards her and saw a large recently healed scar across her forehead beneath her fringe, like a river of stone magma in a dormant volcano. Arthur stood stunned to the spot, too horrified to speak. Alice giggled monotonically, “You’re as silent as a newborn babe…and I will not have to worry about any of that anymore.”