A gray reef fans on the edge of the eastern horizon. Cobalt blue mixed with midnight. An hour until the first fingers of sunlight. An hour back I quit twisting in the bed sheets. Wouldn’t do any good to fall asleep at 4am. Four is a time to relieve yourself and duck back under the covers for another REM cycle before the world starts calling. That’s for the people who can sleep. For those that can’t, it’s a time to surrender and roll outta there. I don’t sleep much lately. You, only when the medication works.               The tea kettle sings. Miniature choo-choo . White vapor condenses on the window above the sink. Violet veins of frost dissipate on the pane of glass where the wooden edges meet. I pour the piping liquid into a quench cup and inhale the aroma of liberated caffeine. I put it to my lips for a microsecond. For that wakeup singe.               Your mother is still in bed but Lucy’s risen with me. Good, old girl. I put down slip-free runners in the kitchen and living room for her – hardwood floors are tough on twelve year-old hindlegs. She nudges the back of my knee with her wet nose; it’s breakfast time. I pour kibble in her dish with a spurt of hot water from the faucet. Life is short. I roll up a piece of bologna and toss that in too. Her head bobs happily in the bowl. I pull on a heavy flannel and make for the garage.               We had you before we were married, but not too long before. We weren’t prepared, not in the least, but I wasn’t worried. Your mother and I were competent people. The world, for how much it says it loves children, is perpetually short on individuals that love them enough to teach them when they don’t know any better. Your mom, she loved kids even before you arrived. So that’s what she did – taught first-grade daisies up the road on Landry street while her belly swelled with you. Always said that’s why you’re such an avid reader and a talented writer. Because you were reading even before you were born.               I kept the books at the supermarket in Ashton and studied for my credential. I passed the test but I liked the business and people more than I did burying my nose in the numbers. They gave me a shot managing and I excelled. Our little grocery acquired the minnows, mom-and-pops who were retiring but wanted it to go to good hands. But then the sharks came for us. The regional business I grew was swallowed by a national chain. Some sad stories here and there, but they mostly did right by us and by-and-large my checks got bigger. And it’s just groceries. Never could understand a man that called a business his child. Well, I guess it never was mine anyway.               Freezing in the garage. Nothing subtle about November’s in New Hampshire. Everything still dark. I strike the light switch and the fluorescent tubes overhead sputter to life. I sip the cup of Earl Grey once more and begin to assemble.               Bright hazard orange vests hanging above the work bench. Yellow stripes along the shoulders. I took you duck hunting when you were six years old with my buddy Ian. Just to ride in the truck and make the silly calls with us. My dad took me when I was about that age. I remember it fondly. Cold New England air. Dad letting me help pack the hunting kit, the gloves and the vests and the boots. The pop, pop, pop of the pellets exploding from the shotguns. Stalking through the growth to find the downed ducks. I burst into the house that night with four dressed birds tied up in a game bag. I couldn’t wait to show your grandma. I thought maybe it’d be the same for you.               It wasn’t though, was it?               Man. That flock took flight in the twilight and Ian and I sprayed and a few came plummeting down. We had Boyd back then before Lucy and when he lumbered back with one in his jaws and set it at our feet, boy did you have a meltdown. You couldn’t stand the sight of it, couldn’t look at the poor thing. You cried in my arms and peeked under my armpit and when you saw it still lying on the ground fresh wailing waves rolled out of you. You asked if we could save it.               “We can’t save him buddy.”               You pounded my chest with your two little fists, hot tears turned angry. “Then you shouldn’t have shot him.”               I had Ian dress the thing away from you and we packed it in early. You wouldn’t say a word the whole ride home, didn’t even leap when I asked if you wanted to stop for a soft serve. Mom asked how it went when we got home.               “Daddy killed a bird.” That was all you said.               Christ it’s messy in here. Useless junk accumulated over the years. Bikes hanging from the ceiling, trembling from the draft sneaking under the poorly insulated door. Two ancient sleds on the wall, the metal runners far too sharp for children but that’s exactly who they were for. Tools in disarray. An armoire with a gash in the oak near its iron handle. Three enormous bins stacked on top of one another. Masking tape labels, undifferentiated, that say simply “outdoors”. I steady a stool and step onto its shaky surface. I unstack the boxes and my lower spine groans.               It was a Sunday I took you duck hunting with me. Mom was in the kitchen fixing you a peanut butter sandwich the next morning, pregnant with your sister, Grace, belly protruding like a bowling ball. I packed it into a brown paper bag while she licked the knife and said I’d take you to school myself. Told her some white lie about getting time off her feet and she should take it easy and have a bath and I’d even pick you up from school at the end of the day. She was skeptical, certainly aware that something was amiss, but offers of solitary hours were far-between and the prospect of a warm bath too enticing to turn down. I called the school from the garage and let them know you’d be home sick for the day.               I shuffled you into the truck and you were still pouting but I kept a straight face and only let myself grin when I pulled you out and we weren’t in the parking lot of the elementary but rather my favorite stream in Willow state park where the trout get fat in the Fall.               “I’ve got something to show you.”               Your eyes two moons. In my hands a fishing rod, a line, and a bright red spinner lure. The only thing brighter: your smile stretched ear-to-ear.               The fluorescent tubes hum overhead. One flickers but stubbornly perseveres. Here we go. Rubber boots and waders. Tangled lines from past excursions. A tacklebox with all the bait and a landing net as well. I click the tacklebox open and organize things a bit. Vests and rain coats I put in the cab of the truck, boots and waders and rods go in the bed. I spread the cover over the back and rest on the stool. Lucy wanders in and rests her head on my lap.               “We’ll try the first few together, okay? So here’s what we do: rock once, rock twice, and then we toss in a straight line, stop with the rod, we follow through, and then once it’s in the water we reel her in slow.” I demonstrated once on my own. Then I stood behind you, showed you how to grip. We rocked together, my hands on your forearms. “One rock, two, then….toss!” The lure flew twenty feet and landed with a tiny splash. “Alright, now bring it back with the reel. Slow, like you’re winding a toy.”               You reeled. I patted you on the back, proud. “That was great Adam! Do you wanna try the next one on your –               No opportunity to finish.               In the stream there was a massive leap. A rainbow trout glinting in the sun, it attacked the bait. How the rod stayed in your hands I will never know because that fish gave a great big jerk on the line but still it wasn’t enough to tug away from you. I hung on with you and we reeled with all our might. It thrashed and twisted violently.               “Grab the net Adam! Grab it!” You relinquished the rod and held the net giggling like a mad man. When there was no line left to reel, I dumped him sideways. You held him high like a prize.               I can hear tinkering in the house now. Lucy plods out to discover who is up.               Your elation becomes near-instant terror. “The hook is stuck in his mouth! He’s going to die! Dad, get it out! Get it out!” Your grand prize has morphed into a grenade. You drop it on the loose sediment of the shore and turn your back to it, hands in your eyes.               “Easy, easy.” Your back still turned to me, palms stemming tears. “Look”.               You turn to see. With small pliers I bend the lure that has twisted into a tangled snare. The metal hook complies, then it comes free. The trout writhes. I grab him and hold him steady with two hands. Your sobbing has stopped.               “Come here, son. Touch him.”               You take a few timid steps. Your eyes swollen and red looking into mine. Then, with three fingers, you touch him just below the fin. A smile on your face. I feel your nervous system exhale.               “Now what?” You ask. A wood pecker hammers away high above.               “Now, we put him back.”               We place him in the water together and his dorsal roars to life. A large splunk as he motors away.               I turn off the garage lights and return to the kitchen. First light is illuminating. My breaths are tiny clouds in its radiance.               “Hey, son.”               “Hey, dad.”               Your mother and I were blindsided when you enlisted. It was never on our radar. I suppose neither were two jets barreling into the twin towers. Patriotic fever in those days. Our little community and those adjacent sent a lot of young boys to the middle east.               Your mother, distraught, tortured with grief. Her special little guy.               “Smart boys don’t go to war Adam. People with any type of future don’t go to the desert to shoot other scared, lost boys.”               You calm and understanding. “I’m not going to shoot anyone mom. I’m going to take care of scared boys who have taken bullets themselves.”               “Please”, she sobbed. “Please don’t do this.”               But there was no convincing you, and no matter how frightened I was for you I was also immensely proud. Eighteen months later you were in Fallujah. Ten months on the ground. You tore shrapnel out of infantry muscles. Applied pressure to wounds you knew were fatal, carmine splotches seeping through sheet after sheet of heavy gauze. Made tourniquets for limbs blown to bits by roadside IED’s, jagged bone fragments poking through skin, tibia chiclets lost in the dirt. And then an IED came for you.               “I was thinking about taking a drive this morning.”               You’re pouring coffee. Rose quartz light invading the kitchen.               “How about it? Wanna come with?”               Your eyes are buried in the back of your skull. Dark bags beneath the sockets.               “I don’t know dad. I haven’t slept at all.”               I give you a sheepish smile. “Ditto.”               You smile back. “Sure.”               An emergency evacuation. A life-saving surgery that amputates above the right knee. Your eyes in Germany, groggy, in-and-out of consciousness. Your mother and I terrorized, gasping for news back home. A complicating infection and a resulting fever that wouldn’t quit. Two days of silence. Finally, a phone call.               You were going to make it.               Nine more surgeries to follow over the next two years. Physical therapy and insomnia. Night terrors. At four o’clock I was up this morning. At two you were screaming murder in your bed. Endless pharmacology. Pills for pain. Pills for PTSD. Pills for insomnia and night terrors and anxiety. You, fading away. Your personality an infrequent visitor I rarely glimpse. That’s something I could never say out loud.               The leaves are all down. A galaxy of colors a month ago. Now it’s all rotting on the coniferous floor. Brilliance comes and goes.               A psychiatric review and mandated six months at the V.A. clinic when a character in the novel you’re writing embarks on a mass shooting. They changed your dosage. I removed anything with a firing pin from the property to be safe. I believe you that it’s fiction.               The tires rumble on the gravel road. Forty-one degrees on the dashboard. It’s warmed up. The trailhead is barely visible. Overgrown brush and branches swoop over its demarcation reclaiming the flagging efforts of an underfunded forest service. I park on the side of the road and get to unloading all of the gear.               “It’s freezing dad.”               I give him a playful bump on the shoulder. “C’mon, just a few casts.”               We wade into the current and alternate lines. Silence is good conversation for now. Cathartic. Birdsongs chorus down upon us. Time slips away.               “Hey dad.”               “Hmm?”               “You remember when I caught that trout when I was a little kid?”               “I do.”               A deer guides her fawn on the opposite shore.               “Dad.”               “Hmm?”               You pause. “Will things ever be the same again?”               The fawn and the mother are gone.               “Ya know son, I don’t know if they ever will.”               A splash on the end of your line.               “But that doesn’t mean we can’t make ourselves new.”


“Derek, get down here now!” The front door slammed shut and the sudden skid of car tires drained the trees around of wildlife. The Centen family were heading to the airport for a wedding in Brazil. Derek was 12 but he had never been out of his home town in England. Derek looked down at his necklace. He remembered his grandfather giving him it and saying “keep this around your neck and you and your family will live forever, but never take it off or great dangers will occur.” He had dreamed of being a spy so he wondered if he could train by looking out the back window. There was a small black Jeep behind him and it had a man who was wearing a balaclava and sunglasses. As Derek kept staring out he started to drift off and soon was out stone cold, lying on a backpack resting against the leather seat next to him. An hour later his mother said “sweetie, we’re almost here” Derek slowly rose and faced the back window. The necklace hooked around the head rest and it broke falling onto the car seat. As this happened Derek felt something strange. The black Jeep had gone but there was another car, it was a chunky Audi and Derek swore that the driver was the same. He had a balaclava and sunglasses. As Derek looked forwards he looked up into the middle mirror and saw that both his parents had their eyes shut. There was a contraption on the driver’s seat that looked like it was steering the car and pressing on the accelerator. He looked back again and the Audi was gone. Derek was in shock but had the realisation that the necklace had come off because it was digging into his trousers. He picked it up and slid it into his top pocket. “Smash” the right window caved in and shattered while in one piece. The sudden jerk made Derek leap out of his seat. The car must have malfunctioned because the doors swung open and Derek was shoved out by the heavy backpack whamming into him. The bleeding boy rolled across the highway and down a hill into some trees. It took a few minutes for him to gain consciousness, and as he stood up he saw the Audi roll slowly down the hill. “He won’t get me in the woods! All I need to do is focus the energy into my legs to lug me past the first line of trees.” There was no sign of the car once he made it past but he had an urge to keep going as if something was calling to him. It was around 2 hours later when Derek came to a metal gate. There was no way through and there was barbed wire above it. He looked left and right but he just saw that the gate kept going. He remembered from a book he’d read that If you put your coat or shirt on the barbed wire you can jump over it. All Derek had was a jumper and a t-shirt. He slowly regretfully pulled the jumper off as a sliver of ice cold wind went in to the opening of his shirt freezing the little hairs on his shirt. What Derek didn’t realise was that the barbed wire was years old and had a crisp layer of rust making it as hard as diamond. As Derek climbed he chucked the sweater over the wire and started to roll over. The wind was weaving through the fence and Derek thought he was going to get pushed off. ‘Rip’ the sweater was starting to get punctured and a spike went into Derek's thigh.

“Aaaaaooooaaahhh!” ‘Thump’ Derek got back up and looked into the darkness. A small thumping of footsteps came from all around and then a little creaky voice said “mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, Mine, MIne, MINe, MINE, MINE!, MINE!” A pain started going through Derek's body as if a shank was cutting him on the inside. The figure of the driver was walking up to him slowly emerging from the darkness. Derek couldn’t see the man’s face but suspected that it was the man from the car. A sudden creak of the man’s voice startled Derek and he tripped up on a slippery stick. Derek felt himself sink into the mud, the cold gooey slime started pouring over his hands and legs pinning him down. As the mud overflowed and drowned Derek, the mysterious man said, “someone’s going to die tonight.” Derek was able to peak through a small slit in the mud and saw that the man was taking his sunglasses and balaclava off. It was his grandfather. A whole new at atmosphere was created as derek’s grandfather looked at Derek. Somehow he started talking joyfully. “Hello Derek, do you have the necklace I gave to you years ago?” “Uh..uh..I thought you were dead!” “That’s none of your concern, now be a good boy and give me that necklace.” “I saw your body being put into the coffin.” Fed up, Derek’s grandfather wrenched Derek out of the mud and threw him against a tree. “Oooooww!” Derek wailed. Derek’s grandfather reached into Derek’s shirt searching for the necklace but it wasn’t there. “Where is it? I need it to stay alive!” Derek found an opportunity and slammed his foot into his grandfather’s balls. “Crunch” “eeeeeeekkk!” As his grandfather keeled over clenching his balls and cursing under his breath, Derek started to run and found himself at the entrance of a big amusement park. The park was empty and it was trashed as if a meteor had crashed into it and flew back up to space leaving a hoard of metal and scraps. Derek went to hid because he heard his grandfather again wailing and muttering something like “long live me... long live me... long live me” Derek dove under an old crusty roof.

Everything went silent as soon as He had hidden for cover. Then there was a faint knocking on side of the of and his grandfather’s head popped in from one side giving a shock so great to Derek that he could’ve been electrified by 200,000 wats. Everything went dark except for a glimmer of light shining through a haze that Derek was seeing. He felt his hands and feet tied to a chair. As Derek regained consciousness he saw his grandfather holding a knife and sharpening it with a rock in the other. “Looks like you took the hard path where I had to fully search you for the necklace. Luckily it didn’t fall out while you were running.” Two anonymous spotlights turned on and two other seats were containing bits of flesh and blood. There was brain and liver smeared all over the cold stone floor. “Do you know who those two sashimied bodies belong to?” “Um... no?” “YOUR PARENTS!...HAHAHAHAHAHA!” “What?..You little...pineapple!”Derek’s grandfather stepped forwards and gripped the knife. Derek couldn’t see his grandfather but he knew that he was close. A pain started going through Derek’s body as if a shank was cutting him on the inside...but this time it was on the outside...and this time it was for real.


“Tash, how long does it take you to get dressed in there?” Chloe’s fist hammered on the door. “One second!” I yelled back. I quickly turned around and checked myself out in the mirror. *Gulp*, I hoped this one would pass Chloe’s eagle eye test…. Or else I was gonna be in hot water! Taking a deep breath, I opened the door. Chloe turned around “It’s about time- Whoa….” Brumby craned his neck around her “Whoa!” He echoed “You look good mate!” I coughed awkwardly; my hands stuffed in my pockets. I wore polished black boots, black jeans, a belt with the buckle in the shape of a rearing horse. My ebony horse amulet gleamed on the skin exposed by the tight V-necked black T-shirt. Over that, I wore a black leather jacket “Yeah…. You do….” Chloe muttered in a sort of disappointed whimper. “‘You do?’” Brumby crowed “Oh man she actually agrees!” Chloe punched him. Brumby grinned as he rubbed his shoulder “How did those words taste coming out of your mouth?” he asked, hiding behind me. “Bitter.” Chloe replied dead pan before she hit him again. “Good choice Tash.” She looked at me with disappointed eyes. “But your makeover isn’t done yet!” She smiled happily. Brumby eyed me with panic-stricken eyes. A sentiment deeply echoed by me. “It’s not?” “Oh no it isn’t! We may have fixed your wardrobe but we still have to do something about your hair!” Suddenly self-conscious, I ran a hand through my shoulder length black hair. I know I didn’t exactly brush it but still…. “What’s wrong with my hair?” God, why did I sound like a whiny little girl? “Other than the fact that it’s unruly, wild and covers your face half the time.” “She’s just jelly cause your conditioner is way better than hers.” Brumby said in a stage whisper. Chloe’s eyes zeroed in on him like the cross hairs of a sniper rifle. “What did you say?” She said in a thunderous whisper. “Um, nothing!” Brumby hid himself behind some mannequins. “Mr. Smooth strikes again eh?” I muttered in an equally loud stage whisper. This time it was Brumby who glared at me while Chloe grinned and gave me a high five. “But, of course,” I mused, shooting a sly glance at Chloe “he does have a point…. my conditioner is way better than yours, girl!” Chloe raised an eyebrow as Brumby howled with laughter. Just then Chloe’s cell rang. She answered it with a bright smile but then her expression shifted, first from a frown to surprise and then a frown again. She held the phone out towards me. “It’s for you.” Me? Who could possibly be calling me? I glanced at Brumby who shrugged back. I took the phone. “Hello?” “Hi um…Tash? Um, it’s Trixie…” TRIX-TRIXIE! TRIXIE FRICK FRACKIN BARTON WAS CALLING ME !? I punched the air silently. Brumby grinned at me but Chloe frowned. Focusing back on the call, I deepened my voice and made it sound as manly as I could. “Uh, hi Trixie, what’s up?” It was the girl of my dreams on the other end of the call! My heart was in my mouth…. “Listen Tash, um…. I’m afraid I’ll have to rain check on tonight….” …. And down went the heart. “Oh…” I muttered into the phone, my shoulders slumping in disappointment. “Yeah….er something came up and-” “No worries! I mean we can always get together another time!” The words sped out of my mouth so fast I couldn’t believe what I said. “Oh, um…great! So….um…. bye!” The line went dead. “Bye…” I whispered into the silent phone. I turned back to the others. “Tash, what happened mate?” asked Brumby. “I mean one minute you were punching the air and the next…” he trailed off looking at my face. Guess that told him the whole story. “Oh, um that was Trixie!” I smiled at them, hiding behind the thin armor the smile gave me. Brumby started to smile back “She uh, called to rain check the date.” Brumby’s grin faded and for once his eyes didn’t gleam with humor like they always did. Chloe’s mouth was turned down and she smiled sympathetically at me.  “Tash, I’m so sorry.” Chloe said gently placing her hand on my arm. “I know Trixie, she’s my friend but I didn’t know she knew you or anything.” “Yeah, those two kinda have a complicated history.” Brumby clasped my shoulder and squeezed. I nodded glumly at his words. Then I looked up “One thing though, how’d she know I’d be with you?” “Well apparently, she called the stables and they said that you had gone off with Brumby, and then she had apparently called around at my place and…found out that I was gone too, so then she’d gone back to the stables and…. Um…” She blushed. “What?” we both said together “Well, the head trainer Jock told her that you’d be with Brumby and that Brumby would be….wherever I’d be…” This time both of them blushed. Brumby’s ears turned scarlet. I cracked a smile, I had to. “Well then, I declare this outing as your first official date!” I beamed at them. Both of them looked sharply at me. “Tash, this is not a date!” Brumby shot me a murderous look. Chloe just stood stock still but I could tell her ears were tuned like sonar panels towards Brumby’s voice. “Of course, this is a date!” I held my ground “And I’m the acting chaperone! So, you two lovebirds had better not sneak off while I go to the restroom, got that?” I turned and grinned at Chloe who was hiding her mouth with her hand, her shoulders shaking. “Tash, this is not a date!” Brumby repeated, his face turning red. “Well, why isn’t it?” I walked past Chloe and got right in Brumby’s face. “Well you’re here! And I wouldn’t call going shopping for my best friend a date!” “So, you wanna take her on a proper date?” I asked slyly. “OF COURSE, I WANNA TAKE HER ON A PROPER DATE!” Brumby yelled loud enough for the whole store to hear. I grinned at him then my smile widened as Brumby’s expression went from mad-dog to frozen to shock-and finally a bright burning red. I glanced at Chloe over my shoulder. Her green eyes were wide and there was a touch of pink in her cheeks and a smile peeped out from her mouth. There was an awkward silence…. Then a slow clapping started from the back of the store. An old couple was staring at us and beaming. Suddenly the clapping grew louder as the other shoppers, the shop assistants and even the grim looking manager joined in. There were even a few whoops and whistles from outside the store. I saw a mall cop pounding his barrel chest and whistling. SCORE! “Well then,” I stepped back two paces and beamed at the pair of them “my work here is done.” I bowed to Chloe “Ms. Granger.” She smiled shyly as she blinked her thanks I spun on my heel and walked past the still frozen Brumby. I stopped, leaned in and whispered. “You’re welcome, Brumby Boy.” I slapped him on the back. Brumby didn’t even react, he was still frozen. I snapped my fingers in front of his face, still no reaction. Rolling my eyes at Chloe, I snorted and gave him a sharp dig in the ribs. Brumby’s eyes flickered and he blinked rapidly. “T-Ta-Tash…” He stuttered I chuckled as I gave him a fist bump “Just don’t screw up okay? Now get going Casanova. She’s waiting for ya.” I gave him a hearty shove towards Chloe. I ducked out of the store and hid behind two big plant pots muttering the Mission Impossible theme song. Operation Broe had begun! See what I did there? Brumby + Chloe = BROE!!! Now that, my dear Reader, is called good shipping. Now back to the story of those two young lovers. She stood there shyly. He stepped cautiously towards her. She smiled up at his towering form then gently reached up and touched his cheek. He leaned in and whispered something to her, causing her to giggle. Then she gently rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. He grinned broadly and took her hand. And the two young lovers walked out of the store, followed by the crinkling and mellowing eyes of all those around them. Even me! I’ll admit it! No judging Reader but watching those two….it was enough to make a grown man cry! Ha-ha, just kidding, you think I’d actually cry? Ha, no way! But I couldn’t help smiling at the sight of them but at the same time I couldn’t help wondering…. Would Brumby still be the same guy? Would he still have time to hang out or go riding or just you know…. Yeah well, I know we all have to grow up Reader, but still… Well I guess time would tell. Now back to the story. He led her through the mall, only stopping to.... AWWWWW, buy her a rose! Now isn’t that the sweetest thing you ever read, Reader? I mean he bought her a rose! A Red Rose! You know what that means don’t ya? But still…. damn Brumby, this girl hasn’t just lassoed you, she’s hogtied you! They continued on their little elopement, gazing into each other’s eyes with the passion experienced only by two people reckless with the joy of love and- Hey! I'm pretty good at voice overs! Angel was right, maybe I should get into the whole announcing thing- And they walked as if lost in the dreams of Love, while being stealthy followed by a very dashing young man, if I may so myself, who darted from corner to corner like a super spy! I was an Ice man! I was the coolest of the cool! I was unfazed by danger! I was the flame that burned night and day! I was-nearly arrested by a security guard for hiding, in what he called an ‘inappropriate pose’, behind a lingerie mannequin. Anyway, he took her to a rom-com movie. After checking what time, the movie ended, I wandered around the mall for a while then slipped into the car park and went to meet some guys from Monarch who I’d called from a payphone. We all had a bit of a bite to eat then with a quick wink, I slipped a walkie-talkie into my pocket and walked away.

The movie had just finished when I arrived back. And there the two little love birds were! He led her to the rooftop, leading her to a quiet little bench in the corner. She leaned her head against his shoulder and he kissed her forehead as they watched the sunset. Then slowly she turned her head to face him. He looked deep into her eyes. She was leaning in! They were about to- “TRA-LA-LA-LA-HEY!” -be interrupted by their chaperone, as said dashing chaperone sprang out from behind the bushes! “TASH! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU-” Brumby sputtered leaping to his feet. I silenced him with a finger to his lips and pushed him back into Chloe’s arms. I cleared my throat as I pranced in front of them. “For your entertainment, tonight, lady and…Mr. Boy Toy over here, I now present the one-man band of Tashunka Lone Raven!” “BOY-TOY!?” Brumby’s mouth dropped as Chloe burst out laughing. Then his eyes met mine with the horrific realization of what I was about to do. “Tash! No! Oh no! No, no, no, no, no!” Brumby buried his head in his hands as I gave myself a quick drum roll “HEY NOW, HEY NOW! WHAT I DO SEE? TRA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA ! OH! ITS BRUMBY AND CHLOE SITTING IN A TREE! TRA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA ! BRUMBY AND CHLOE SITTING IN A TREE! TRA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA ! OH, IT’S BRUMBY AND CHLOE SITTING IN A TREE K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” “I’m gonna kill him. I am going to KILL him!” Brumby muttered furiously as Chloe clapped her hands to the beat, laughing with delight. But I was not done yet! HAHAHAHAHAH! Not by a longshot! “First come Love! Then comes Marriage! Then comes the baby in the golden carra-” It was at that moment that part of my brain registered that Brumby had risen to his feet. So that part of the brain, whispered to the other part of the brain “Uh oh, Brumby’s coming!”  “And he looks pretty mad!” The other part of my brain agreed “What do we do Tash?” they both asked. “One word boys, SCRAM!” Laughing, I bolted while Brumby mock charged me “Tash, not one step closer!” He growled. I put my hands up in surrender, a wide grin etched on my face, as I slowly pulled out the walkie talkie. “What’s that?” Brumby asked cautiously eyeing the walkie talkie. I raised my eyebrows “Just a little surprise I cooked up for ya.” I lifted the walkie talkie to my mouth. “Light ‘em up.” “Copy that.” said the voice on the other end. Suddenly the dusky sky blazed with light as the fireworks. Chloe squealed with delight as she gazed up at the fiery stars that lit up the sky. “Brumby.” I said in a stage whisper. “Now might be a good time to kiss her.”  Brumby chuckled and grinned at me, shook his head in wonder, then walked back to Chloe and kissed her. I mean it was a real movie style kiss. I know what you’re thinking Reader; AWWWWWWWW. With a grin, I walked away. How’d it go? asked Jingo, my black Arabian mare as I mounted. “Pretty well, Jingo old girl, pretty well indeed.” I whispered as we trotted off down the street. I’m not OLD! she snorted fiercely.


     I clasped my hands in front of me like a good little boy and watched Not-Naughty-Librarian thumb through the book looking for something that seemed mighty important to her. I couldn’t tell you what she was so intent on finding that she couldn’t even spare me a passing glance seeing as how I was dead and hadn’t had orientation yet. All I knew was I didn’t seem to be in hell since there was a considerable lack of hellfire and brimstone.

I don’t remember the exact moment I died. Or, rather, I don’t know when my body died as my soul was sucked plum out without my permission. Did I live another few minutes? I have no idea. All I know is I was rushing through a beam of warm light, neither air nor liquid, but somehow seemingly both. I continued whooshing right past some sort of welcome committee. I saw my Granny Coral, her face so jubilant at first, confused as hell the next moment, but by then I was already long past her and whomever else was waiting there for me.

     Zooming right by a blur of buildings, people, alien-looking creatures, beams of light; all wrapped snugly in a cocoon of bubbles, I didn’t have much time to process a thing. Looks a lot like a beehive, I thought, as my progression sped up until I found myself jolted to a stop and plopped right smack dab into a polished chair facing a young woman, hair in a loose bun, glasses perched on the end of a pert button nose, a humongous book taking up the space between us on the desk piled high with books of all shapes and sizes. Frankly, she looked like one of those “naughty librarians” I sometimes liked to watch, but I quickly erased the thought because, you know, I was dead, and Granny Coral taught me all about the Good Book and Judgement Day. I probably shouldn’t have been thinking of my sins right that moment lest I inadvertently invite some of that there fire and brimstone I noticed was fortunately not here.      In fact, this room was rather lovely. I took my first good look at the place. Seemed like I was in an ancient library. All stone and wood and stained glass windows, it appeared as if I was somehow in one of those fantasy movies my girlfriend sure loved to watch. I never really understood the appeal, but she said that’s to be expected when you’re a muzzle… er… muddle… uh.. muggle? Hell, I don’t know. I just know that’s the very second I started to tear up thinking about my sweet, perfect Penelope, my favorite nerd, my little angel baby who used to keep a smile on my face.

     That’s precisely when Ms. Not-So-Naughty Librarian finally deigned to cast me a glance. “Oh, don’t you fret now, dearie. You’ll see her again before you know it. You’re from the same group, after all.”

      I must have looked rather alarmed because she laughed a tinkling little laugh that sounded unlike any laugh I’d ever heard in my whole life. “Well, you’re not holding anything back, you realize. You don’t have to shout your thoughts at me, either.” Her face was sunshine and dandelions as she thrust her full attention on me. Maybe Judgement day wouldn’t be so bad, I mused.

     “Oh, calm yourself, sweet soul. You’re still really new, only been here…” her eyes swept down on the page wedged in between her arms resting casually on the desk, “...oh, yes, you’ve only existed for a few lives. But don’t you worry one itty bitty bit. I’ll walk you through a few things and get you settled in to heal the gaps in your energy.”       All complacency left me as a flood of questions drenched my mind like a deluge worthy of Noah. I no sooner opened my mouth to start shooting them questions right out my mouth before she held up her petite hand and closed my mouth right quick.

     “Right, then. First, you’ll need to quit calling me Not-So-Naughty Librarian. My name is Akasha. Secondly, my job here is not to judge you. You’ll find there’s none of that fear-mongering nonsense here. And thirdly, my job is Archivist. I document and organize every single life you’ll ever lead, and then I’ll help you in your studies to evaluate your actions and monitor your growth to enlightenment.” She paused then, and the cutest little smile lit up her face. I presumed my embarrassment over the moniker I had gifted her was showing on my face. Could ghosts blush? Was I as red as my Mama’s homemade sangria that she made every summer?

     “No, I’m just trying to figure out why you came straight to me instead of to meet your soul group, head to the The Healing Cavern, or see your guides for your Life Review before they brought you here to study. And you are not a ghost. Those poor souls get a little confused before we can coax them to come back home, but they all make their way back eventually.”      I watched the colors from the stained glass play across Akasha’s face, red and orange and yellow and colors I had no name for. The light should have been blinding, but no. I could feel it moving against my skin like a living thing, warm and cool all at once, before becoming me. Sounds crazy, when I think of it in human terms, but this lady here was busy explaining I am not a human, I am a soul who had a human experience. Huh, imagine that. I didn’t really believe Granny Coral or Pastor Hank. I mean, religion seemed so silly, no more reasonable than thinking a wolf swallowed a little girl in a cherry red cape before gobbling up her granny.

     “There’s a reason you came to me first, so we’re going to figure that out together! Let’s take a look at the life you just led, shall we?”      All of a sudden, images sprang up out of that big book she’d been studying and oozed all around, like I was watching my surroundings being painted over, a fresh new world in its place. And then I saw myself being born. I had no idea my Mama could scream like that! Hoo boy! I was going to send her the biggest bouquet of flowers just as soon as I was done here. It hit me again as soon as I thought it. I was dead. There weren’t going to be any more flowers sent to Mama or anyone else.      “No, no, no, just a little too far back. Let’s speed this up just a bit, shall we?”      The blobs of paint began to dance around me, and I watched myself growing up. There I was, spitting beets out all over my father’s face when he insisted I would love them even though I was only six months old, and no baby loves beets. The scene was painted anew as Mama’s laugh faded out. I was a few months older and taking my first steps. I was two and scared of a thunderstorm. I was three and lost my mother for a few minutes when I let go of her hand and chased a dragonfly. I was four and skinned my knees up so badly that I carried the scars for the rest of my life. Five and starting kindergarten, bravely not crying even though I really wanted to. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten; memories, but more. I felt everything all over again. The sting of my first heartbreak. The embarrassment of my first time with Lonnie in the backseat of the old car Dad and I spent a full year repairing, that first time ending before I could say “Oh, my God!”      My graduation, Helena - the first woman I ever really, truly loved. Thought I was gonna spend my whole life with that one. But then the baby, that perfect boy, arriving much too early and gone too fast. I watched Helena pack her things and drive away all over again. No Helena. No baby. Months of depression where my entire world turned grey and flavorless, leaving me lost within the ocean of myself, with no anchor to hold me in place. Then Olivia. Warmth returned to my bones then. Three years of carnivals, concerts, movies, getting snowed in during the nor’easter of ninety-four. Then she, too, was gone, but my world only dimmed a little that time.      I saw myself starting my own auto shop, and working with my hands was good and honest work that paid the bills. That’s what Dad said as he slipped away in the hospital bed in the living room. He was proud of me. The energetic and kind hospice nurse wiped my tears. “Thank you, Penelope,” I breathed into her hair. I could smell the strawberry scent of her shampoo all over again. She became my everything from then on out. Sunday dinners with Mama, camping under the stars, that trip to Disney World because Penelope said we never really have to grow up if we don’t want to. I watched it all again, the joy within me expanding until I felt it explode from me and meld with the images of my life.

     And then I watched myself collapse, saw through my flesh and muscle to my heart, suddenly still, and the crowd that rushed in on aisle seven of the hardware store. I wasn’t going to finish that crib now. I wasn’t going to paint the nursery. I wasn’t going to see the little lima bean inside Penelope grow into someone I could teach to ride a bike.       The paint faded back into the book, and I sat on the polished chair, half the size I was before, folded in on myself. Penelope glided right through the desk and wrapped her arms around me, breathing fire back into my soul like warm honey, slowly seeping into each molecule.

    “How are you here?” I croaked.      Akasha’s voice seemed to come from within me. “I can be any shape you need. So can you. We are limitless. We are everything.”      The doors burst open, and in rushed my father. If anyone ever tells you there are no tears in heaven, they’re a bald-faced liar, I can tell you that, yes sir! But he didn’t give me time to cry. No, sir! He grabbed my hand right up into his and began to pull me along at the speed of light. It could have been a minute, could have been a week, hell if I know, but we came to an abrupt halt right about where I came in and first saw Granny Coral. Souls were lined up and saying goodbye or hello, depending on which way they were heading.

   And there was Granny Coral, just like that.

    “I wanted to have more time with ya before I headed on down, but this will do.” Her smile was so much more beautiful than I remembered. “I’ll be popping back in here and there for a while, so we can get a slice of blackberry cobbler with ice cream and play catch-up as soon as I get a little work done. Humans are boring to be until they can start getting into trouble. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be taking care of Penelope for you now.”     “You mean…?”      “I’m your granny and your daughter, Pumpkin. Guess we really are Southern.” The raucous laughter that erupted from me at that moment almost drowned out her goodbye as she headed back through the gates. “We will get that cobbler, lickety split! Go get yourself patched up!”

     I can’t describe what it’s like here; I can just let you know that you’re really gonna love it. There is no beginning, there is no end, there just is. Why I was flung halfway to Timbuktu when I arrived hasn't been made clear yet; however, I have a lot to learn over the course of innumerable lives to come. There's no rush. I'll be having a lot of human experiences, I reckon. How 'bout that? Having human experiences is great ‘n all, but being a soul sure takes the cake. Yeah, you're gonna love it here.


The clouds had cast a dark grey shadow that seemed to suck all of the happiness out of everything. The already sad town looked especially miserable on this dreary day. Oliver had always loved these sort of days, of course. He had always been that way and it wasn’t that he hated being happy, (which people loved to say) it was just that the overall sadness was more satisfying. His favorite thing to do when it was like this was to walk through the town where the giant puddles formed and the rain plummeted off the rooftops. The puddles reminded him of the ocean that he so longed to see. He hadn’t ever seen a large body of water like the ocean, living in Idaho and every time he asked to go see the coast his parents would refuse. It made sense, they had never had much money to travel or anything. He was fine with it, of course, as long as he got to venture into town and admire the puddles on rainy evenings. Today, Oliver had a job to do, which did mean that unfortunately he did not get to admire the puddles as thoroughly. His mother had sent him out in town to get groceries, since she knew he was already planning on going out. The walk to the store was a bit farther than he usually went which meant he had to walk by the park that always creeped him out. No one was ever there because it was not well kept and all of the trees were missing their leaves. It was the type of sadness that Oliver was not so fond of. As he rounded a corner the park became visible and he noticed that something was definitely different about it. To start off, there was a woman sitting there. She really looked happy, too, which was odd, considering the heavy rainfall and that she was sitting in the horrible park. She was also playing some sort of instrument and these lovely sounds were coming out of it. Once he made it to the edge of the park he stopped and frowned, completely confused by this person. She seemed to notice and stopped strumming the strings on their instrument to look up and give him a smile. “How are you doing today, young man?” “What sort of instrument is that?” he asked, completely disregarding her question. “It’s a guitar, of course” she replied ,looking slightly confused He really had never heard something so pleasing in his life before, “I’ve never heard of it, but it sounds great.” “Thank you very much.” He accepted her thanks and decided that he must be on his way in order to get home soon. Even once he made it to the store, he was still thinking about the amazing sounds coming from the instrument she called a “guitar”. He had never really liked music, because it always seemed so cliché and shallow. He now thought that maybe he should rethink, because he liked what that person at the park was playing very much. It made him forget all about the overwhelming sadness of the park and considerably brightened his mood. Once he was finished shopping he made sure to go the way past the park to hear the music again, but once he got there the park was empty and the unhappiness had returned. He was admittedly rather sad, but he planned on going back out tomorrow in hopes of seeing her again. He returned the next day, even though the weather was nice and all the puddles had dried up. As he was hoping, she was once again sitting on a bench playing her guitar. This time the sounds were different, a little more sad, but definitely still wonderful. He walked up to her and sat down right next to her on the bench. “Hello again,” she said to him. “Hi, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bother, I just wanted to hear you play again.” “You’re not a bother,” she said with a kind smile.” I could teach you if you wanted.

“Really?” he questioned, bewildered why she would want to. “Of course, here,” she handed him the guitar. It was a little too big for him, but it felt very right sitting on his lap. She showed him how to strum the strings, and where to put his fingers in order to achieve different sounds. He was amazed by how right it felt. He certainly was not an expert, but in an hour he had learned two chords and was content with himself. She told him that if he came back she could teach him more chords to play and he obviously said he would. He came back to that newly cheerful park three days later. Unfortunately ,he could not have come earlier because he was needed at home. The day was especially rainy and dark which Oliver was quite glad about as he got to admire the large puddles on his way to the park. When he approached the park the woman looked up and gave him the contagious smile she always does and motioned for him to sit down. As the weeks went by he kept coming back to learn more about the instrument. By two months he had learned to play most of the chords and was really rather skilled for the time he had been playing.

One sunny day when the view of the park came into view he was surprised to see it was empty. Once he came closer he saw that the guitar was sitting at their usual bench with a note on top of it. He picked up the note hesitant to read it, in case it was bad news.

I’m sorry , I know this is sudden, but I had to leave Idaho, so I left my guitar for you. I think it will be much better in your hands than mine, for you have much potential.

- The lady with the guitar He was amazed that she had let him have the guitar. He was planning on saving up his chore money to buy one, but apparently that was unnecessary. An ache in his heart also appeared. He hadn’t known her for long, but she had been the beginning of changes in his life. He had found something that filled up his emptiness and caused him to feel complete. Playing guitar had become one of the most important things in his life and he was glad that he wouldn’t lose it. He only wished he could have wished her farewell. “And that’s it the story of how I started playing guitar” he said feeling like it had only happened yesterday.” “Wow, that seems like the sort of stuff you hear in books.” “Yeah I guess,” he shrugged, “so what do you think? Can I teach you?” “ I feel like I have to, for ‘the lady with the guitar’”


"What do you want me to do?" I screamed, throwing a pillow at her. She picked up the pillow quickly and threw it back at me. "Just do this one little thing for me, please?" she pleaded, giving the puppy eyes tactic a try. My cold unforgiving eyes repelled the attempt at making me give up. "Why should I do it?" I shouted. My arms folded across my chest as I stared her down. She humphed and replied, "Because I said so." When I met Ana, she was this sweet little girl. Every day, we'd meet up after school and share an ice cream together. The sticky drops from the cold bonded us together, making us inseparable. But then Harry came along. He swooped her off of her feet and rode off with her into the sunset, leaving a poor soul behind. Every night, I cried myself to sleep, imagining her bubbly voice and deep blue eyes connecting with mine. I jealously watched as Harry overtook her, constantly giving her attention and kisses. They'd go to every track meet, football game, matchup and get compliments about how good they were together. For a while, it seemed that no end was in sight. Another season went by and then finally, things started to move. Harry focused more on his collegiate soccer ambitions and spent less time with Ana. Since he was so rich, Ana began to become impatient and promptly left him, looking for someone else to spoil her. Me, who at the time had no idea what I was in for, quickly stood up to the plate. I bought a strawberry cone and sat down. It was a cooler day, so I slipped on a sweatshirt and found a nice bench in the sun. Birds flew all around and squirrels chittered just feet away. In the distance, Ana was approaching the ice cream place, money in hand. I quickly got up and moved to a closer seat, ignoring the sudden drop in temperature. At that point, I was bound to do anything. She received her treat and began pacing towards me. I scooched over and motioned slightly for her to sit. She smiled and sat down. "Hey, Michael," she said. "Hi, Ana," I replied, blushing with each word. "It's been a while, hasn't it." she grinned, moving closer. I chuckled nervously and nodded. "You know, ever since Harry stopped buying me things and moved on," she complained. She rolled her eyes and moved her hair away from the front of her body. "Yeah, I guess it has been," I concluded. She giggled and my stomach went from 10 to 1000. I awkwardly shifted and laughed with her. She smiled and asked me the last question I was expecting. "I'm just gonna say it: Want to go out?" she asked confidently. I stuttered over my words and my brain exploded. My voice seemed to fail me and I stared helplessly at those damn blue eyes. All I could muster was a squeaky "yes" and off we went, hand in hand. Thus started the paychecks. At first, it was small. Coffee here and there, a trip to the mall perhaps. But then it grew. Pretty soon, we were hanging out every day, going out to places, and watching Netflix before... personal time. Anyways, as the relationship grew, so did my debt. Day after day I spent enough money to make a millionaire cry, just to please my cute blue-eyed girlfriend. I still was blind to her impatience and ambitions, and that was my weakness. As long as I bought her something, she would return it with affection. And that seemed to satisfy the relationship. Until today. Today, I wanted to rip those pristine blue eyes and put them on a person who actually deserved them. Because boy, oh boy, is she not pristine on the inside. How could she be so ungrateful? I bought her shit day after day, and sometimes she didn't even use them! Why is she doing this? How could I be so blind?" These thoughts raced through my head as I locked myself in the bathroom, listening to Ana destroy things in anger. My eyes were puffy from tears and I was sweating. I wanted to just end it right there and then, to purify me of my wrongdoings. The thought of just doing it was enough to get my adrenaline moving. To be free of impurities, to just be carefree! Adrenaline rushed through my veins. I knew what to say. My feet clomped down the stairs hastily, and Ana stopped her racket. I turned her around and kissed her. "That's for being beautiful," I started. "But I can't handle it anymore. The fuss, the greed, the ungrateful bitchiness." My hand opened up and I touched her cold, hard face. The same feeling as cash. Tears welled up in her eyes and she held her hand to her cheek. I was about to add another one-liner, but the effect of what I did hit me. I slumped to the ground and cried, not only for myself (for once!) but for her as well. I held my knees and cried a deep cry as she helplessly watched, perhaps thinking herself about what the consequences of her actions were. She looked around the room as tears also rolled down her cheeks. She stared down at her bleeding hands and clenched them in anger not directed at me but at how she reacted. "She'll never change," I concluded earlier that day. Nothing I've ever done has proven to fix her. Only God can manage to repair her sins and wrongs. However, I was hit yet again with a surprise as she paid me 200,000 dollars. The same amount as the sum of my total spendings that month. Her blue eyes sympathetically looked at me, this time belonging to the person I had hoped to know. The one whose face doesn't feel like money, the one who doesn't want everything in existence. The one who cares for the other.


“Welcome to Kong’s Castle,” Faye said, forcing cheer into her now raspy voice, resisting the urge to collapse unto the restaurant’s hardwood floor and empty herself of a well-deserved sigh. “May I take your orders?” “Really?” The woman on one end of the square table whipped her head up from the menu she was scanning, then slapped the leather-bound book shut, with enough ferocity that a draft must have fanned her face. She trained furious eyes on Faye. “That’s it? May I take your orders? No apologies?” She ran her fingers over the fringes on her clutch, lips parted as she shook her head. “We’ve sat here for over fifteen—” “Amy it’s…fine,” the man across from her said, one hand sliding across the burgundy tablecloth to brush the knuckles on her left hand. “This is a busy place—” “Uh-uh, Cyrus,” Amy said, sending her red hair extensions flying as she shook her head, one hand raised in Cyrus’s face. “If no one tells them, they’ll just keep giving us mediocre service like the cheap things that they are.” She narrowed her eyes at the startled waitress, in what must have been her impression of a withering look. “Best believe I’ll be reviewing your service. You won’t want to read what I write.” Her initial shock ebbing, Faye’s left brow made a slow ascent, her eyes on the little woman in the flowy red dress. She would have gotten to them quicker if she could have; the restaurant seemed to be taking in more people than it was letting out today, and they were understaffed. Still, what was an apology? Ignoring the familiar fire that was stirring awake inside her chest, she smiled. It took a lot of work too, summoning the muscle power to push those cheeks up in a semblance of niceness. “My apologies, ma’am,” she said, linking her fingers behind her. “We do our best—” The hand was up again, this time in Faye’s face. “Save your little excuses for someone who believes them, girl,” Amy said, her nose in the menu again, the fingers of her right hand waving in the air before Faye’s nose for four full seconds before returning to her table. “Let’s see if your grub is worth it at all.” Faye blinked, speechless. Here she was, doing her daily service to mankind when all she wanted to do was disappear into a bed, and her reward was a biting tongue and a right hand that shushed her. She nibbled on her lower lip. Oh, for a chance to sink her teeth into that disrespectful right hand. She looked at the quieter half of the table. A gray shirt stretched over Cyrus’s lean frame, a black jacket slung over the back of his chair. The eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses rose to meet Faye’s, and he mouthed a quick “Sorry.” His date rattled off an option on the menu and clapped the book shut again. “And make it quick,” she said, running a hand through her shoulder-length bob.

“Of course,” Faye said, tight-lipped smile on. She pulled a notepad from her pocket and scribbled both their orders. She returned the notepad to her pocket and patted it, the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind. Biting had never been her style anyway. There were other ways to take the girl down a few notches. And Faye could think of some. Sneaking one hand under her thick dark hair, she massaged her right earlobe, feeling her fingers tingle with excited heat. She reached for both their menus, letting her fingers discreetly slide along the tablecloth, till she heard the sizzle that would be missed by ordinary ears. Faye walked off, a spring returning to her step as a new sense of purpose grabbed her. The atmosphere churned with the heady musk of the strong spices that characterized Asian cuisine, and the odd harmony of cutlery hitting plates, of clinking glass, and conversation. But as she wove through tables and neared the kitchen, the voices of the couple at Table Five did not leave her prickling ear. “One kung pao chicken and one fried rice,” she called, pushing through the kitchen doors, just as another waiter breezed past her bearing bowls of steaming broth. She peeled the order from her book and stuck it on the order wheel, then picked up the order for Table Sixteen, only too happy to be going back out, away from the fiery heat and the cacophony of banging pots and swishing knives, to where she could observe Amy and Cyrus. “My family’s pretty large,” Faye heard Amy say. “How many?” “Besides my parents, there’s four of us.” “Six? In total?” Cyrus laughed. “Babe, just the males in my family are elev—” “One second love,” Amy said. Between placing a bowl of chow mein before the single woman at Table Sixteen, and encouraging her to “Enjoy your meal,” Faye looked over her shoulder at Table Five. Amy’s right hand drifted down—from where it had no doubt gone to silence Cyrus again—to join her other hand on her phone. “Grace just tweeted me.” The sudden slump in Cyrus’s shoulders, and the carefree laughter from the girl who had caused it, shot tiny sparks up Faye’s arm like an unchecked electric charge. Show time. While pink, zigzagging lines of static electricity, only visible to her, sizzled between two fingers, a command tumbled out her mouth like a breath. “ Munzadelfieri.” * “Aah!” Amy let go of her phone, her panicked eyes watching as it bounced off her thigh and crashed into the floor, the sound covered by the music floating from unseen speakers around the restaurant. Her chest heaved with every ragged breath. “Uh, sorry?” Cyrus’s unsure voice carried over to her, but she was too worked up by the sudden feeling in her fingers—and the painful possibility that her phone was as good as dead now—to concentrate on him. “Hopefully there’s no damage—” “It burned me,” she said, the words leaving her in a shocked whisper. “What?” She looked up, eyes shining in fear and unshed tears. “The phone. It burned me.” Cyrus, right elbow on the table, pinched his lower lip, eyes flicking between her and the phone on the floor. “Happens,” he said, shrugging. “You know it gets hot from overuse, right?” “I know,” she said, mad that he could imply she was dumb, and because she didn’t miss his emphasis on the word “overuse.” “It just—” She shut her mouth. How could she explain that the phone she’d been tapping a minute ago had shot a current of blazing heat through her fingers, so potent she’d vividly remembered that time when she was six and had accidentally seared herself with an iron? “Never mind.” Cyrus sighed. “Just…pick it up.” She frowned. Was that a note of tiredness she picked up in his voice? What was his problem? “Well excuse me for being a little stressed because you couldn’t take me someplace better for our first date.” He chuckled. “Keep it up, and it’ll be our last.” * Faye grinned into the bottle of water she had stopped long enough to grab. Table Five was stewing nicely in the little pot of mischief she’d stirred. “Order for Table Eleven ready!” She binned her bottle and filled her hands with a tray, the aromas pricking her nostrils, her stomach gurgling to remind her that she hadn’t consumed solid food in three hours, a frighteningly long time for someone who was surrounded by it. She went through the doors and strode to the table and its waiting patrons, her lips curving as more conversation hit her ears. “Really, Cyrus? Are you calling me a bit much?” Amy asked. “No, how could I?” Faye placed a ramekin before a customer, smiling at the heavy sarcasm in Cyrus’s voice. “What I am saying, my dear Amy, is you’re a little different from the person I was texting.” “Oh? What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t look exactly like my profile picture? Boobs not big enough for you?” “On the contrary, Amy, you’re easily one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever met!” Faye nodded. Amy was beautiful, even with the mouth on her. “I’m just saying. Your behavior. It’s…not cool. You didn’t have to talk to the waitress like—” Her piercing laugh interrupted him. “Of course. I knew it. You’d take her side. All of you do it, people of your class. You stick together.” “Excuse me?” Faye caught a section of her lower lip between her teeth. She didn’t mind being slighted; she was a waitress, and the larger number of people who walked in through Kong’s Castle’s doors thought they were better than her. Amy talking to her date like that, though. What could justify that? Moving a napkin so she could put a plate in its place, Faye turned to blow lightly through rounded lips on the hair that brushed the shoulder of her black shirt. In the light wind, a wisp of hair broke away, its ends glowing red-orange as it streaked through the air. It made a beeline for Table Five, where a man was trying to shake his head of rising anger, and a woman was reaching for a phone on the ground. The hair clicked against the glass on the woman’s side of the table, and, with a tiny pop, exploded into oblivion. The glass tipped, sending a cascade of sparkling water over the edge, and right unto Amy’s ducked head. “Aah!” * “What did you do?” Cyrus was too stunned to react immediately to Amy’s squawking. In his defense, none of his dates had ever glared at him while trying to peel their dripping wet hair off their eyes. “What do you mean what did I do?” he squeaked, when he could speak. “You—kicked the table! Or knocked the glass!” He swallowed, the back of his neck on fire as his discomfort rose. She was making a scene, if the growing sound of murmuring around them was a sign. “Why would I do that?” he asked. “Maybe it just—” “Just stop!” In one motion, she snatched up a napkin, stood, and flounced out, presumably to the bathroom, leaving him to rue his taste in women. His stare landed on the empty glass, perched precariously on the edge of the table, where it stood, right side up. * “Chicken for the lady,” Faye said, putting the black dish in front of the now dried Amy—who had spent most of the last ten minutes in the bathroom yanking sheet after sheet of paper towel from the dispenser and dabbing at her hair, her head under the hand dryer—, “and rice for the gent.” She set his meal in front of him, then smiled at the pair. “Enjoy.” Amy brought her nose closer to her food, her lips wrinkling. “Why did I expect different?” She made a show of coughing into a napkin. “Lowly place, lowly service, lowly food. Just…” she flicked a hand in Faye’s direction. “Go.” And Faye had thought raining on Amy’s parade—literally—would be enough to knock some humility into her. “Certainly,” Faye said, glad, nevertheless, to have another reason to practice. The charge pumping through her was reaching fever pitch. She turned on the heel of her ballet flats, picking the moment of the swivel to speak inaudibly, her thumb playing a familiar rhythm on her other fingers within her skirt pocket. “Eek!” Faye managed to keep a straight face while walking to Table Eight. “What?” Cyrus. The tiredness was creeping into his voice. “It moved!” “What?” “The chicken!” Amy’s voice was a composition of awe and shrill whispers. “It…bounced!” Cyrus’s sigh was audible enough to steal a giggle from Faye. “You’re poking it, remember? It will move.” “Not like that! It—” “Just eat , Amy.” His tone was a promise that if she didn’t just eat, he would leave her there. Just as well. Faye was beginning to think he was a masochist. There was a “humph,” and more metal on porcelain. “Thanks,” Faye said, smiling as she received payment, her other hand still in her pocket. Time to crank things up a notch. Table Five in sight, she ran her thumb over her fingers, and muttered a phrase. Three cubes of sauce-drenched chicken leaped out of Amy’s dish in rapid succession and socked her on the forehead. “Ow! Aw! Aw! ” Pocketing her tip, Faye winced as Amy’s shriek pierced her ears. Sometimes hyper-hearing was a curse. “What?” For a word that had no s , Cyrus’s utterance was a brilliant impression of a hiss. “It flew!” “What flew?” “The chicken! Look, it did! And knocked me here—” “Yes. Of course. The chicken, a flightless bird when alive, somehow found a launching pad in your meal, and decided that your face would be a good landing point.” “Oh? You don’t believe me?” “Well of course I do! Am I to think the reason there’s sauce dripping from your eyebrows is that you’re a messy eater?” “Oh shut up!” There was that arm of Amy’s again. From where she stood by the kitchen door, Faye rolled her eyes. That arm was beginning to piss her off, and she hated being angry. Indifference was her preferred disposition. She could not be blamed for what was about to happen. A vibrant magenta mist swirling in her left palm, Faye whispered another command. “ Manu’umtuarum nefrigore.” “Oh my God. Oh my God.” The insolence had left Amy’s voice long enough for surprise and terror to creep back in. “I can’t—it won’t—” Her wide eyes, shining with fright, switched between Cyrus and her raised arm, as if expecting one of them to react to her incomplete statement. One of them did—Cyrus raised his arm then, to catch Faye’s attention. “Bill, please,” he said, when she reached their table, not one second spared on looking at the petrified woman across him. “Cyrus!” Faye, taking her sweet time to get the bill, flinched again at Amy’s outburst. “Are you listening to me?” “I don’t know. Am I?” “My arm. It won’t come down.” “What do you mean it won’t come down?” “It’s…stuck!” The man sniggered. “Just as well. You’ve done nothing but keep it in the air all evening.” “You think I’m joking!” The waitress walked out the kitchen, glad there was still enough current simmering within her to work up a full, genuine smile. There sat Amy, her recalcitrant arm stuck in space, the muscles in her other arm tense as they tried to pull it back to her side, while her date wisely shoved the last bits of shrimp into his mouth and avoided eye contact. Faye put the bill next to Cyrus, and shook out her left hand. Amy’s arm hit the table as the spell broke. She gasped, and massaged the back of her hand with her other hand, her eyes darting around the restaurant in growing paranoia. “It’s haunted. This place is haunted,” she kept saying. Her chanting, paired with the hair that had turned ratty after her emergency pat-and-blow-dry, gave her the look of someone a few days from taking up residence in a home for the incurably insane. “This place is haunted.” Her eyes flitted up and met Faye’s. The waitress’s amusement was enough to kick away Amy’s terrified expression. Back was the anger. “You! You did this!” Faye blinked, at her innocent best. “Did what?” “Everything!” She snatched up her purse and stood. “You…witch! I’ll make you pay!” “I’m sorry,” Cyrus said on the back of another longsuffering sigh, putting money on the table, while his date left the restaurant in a symphony of clacking heels and huffs. “She’s…a little stressed.” “That’s alright.” He stood. A pang of guilt hit Faye. She had contributed to ruining his evening. “I’m sure things will…look up,” she said awkwardly, patting the back of her hair. He flashed her a smile. “Thanks.” He made for the door. From the corner of her eye, Faye saw the woman from Table Sixteen approaching the door. A pink rectangle peeked out the woman’s side pocket. Acting on the liquid heat rushing through her veins, Faye lightly tugged the air before her, her lips moving. A wallet slithered out the woman’s pocket and hit the floor. Cyrus’s good guy instincts kicked in. “Excuse me,” he called, bending to pick up the wallet, quickening his stride to meet the woman who had stopped outside. The ensuing conversation Faye observed through the glass doors was a little too long and giggly to be just a wallet exchange. Faye let out a breath, fanning herself. Who knew? It could be the beginning of something good. And if it wasn’t? She popped one of Amy’s chicken chunks into her mouth. They could always return to the restaurant for a little more magic.


Cialden and Kytris died eight years apart. Kytris was the first to pass on, as Cialden was much more robust and healthy. Mixed in with caution and a passion for life, it was always expected to be the way of things.

Kytris never really left, and Cialden knew so. He heard her when he was alone in bed. He heard her when the kids came to visit. He heard her in the peculiar way the house-maidens described the eerie feeling of being watched.

So it was no surprise to Cialden when his heart gave out one July evening that his beloved was waiting for him in the afterlife. Together they haunted their haunts, cleaning dirty dishes, lounging in their comfy chairs, reading the same dozen books they had fallen in love over together in life.

As they were in life, they were in death: inseparable. Until one day… “Cialden, dear.” “Yes, darling?”

“I’m thinking of passing on.” Kytris said it plainly, as though she’d planned to go for a night stroll. Cialden’s ghostly figure, in the shape of his prime as a young man, set down the book he’d died reading.

“I’m sorry, dear. I think I must have misheard you.” Her incorporeal form blinked slightly.

“Cialden…” As always, she wore her favorite dress. Even in the ghostly constellation of her being, Cialden could make out those glittering jewels she had buttoned into the trim and linings. Sparkling emeralds shone like ghastly stars hanging from her supple ears. “I don’t know how, but I think it is time.” He shook his head and placed the book back on the shelf. Or tried to anyways as the book slipped through his hand and crashed upon the floor at the base of the shelf. Somewhere in the house, a light turned on. “You know, Kyte, I think you’re having one of those dreams again. You know, the ones where you still think we’re alive? The…” he scratched at his face, “oh damn, what was it called… aha! —a de ja vu moment!”

She turned to face him, her form blinking again, only this time more noticeably. “Oh, Cialden. I know we’re dead.” Somewhere down the hall came the creaking of footsteps on the stairs. Cialden wished his son had gotten around to fixing those things.

“So… what are you saying?” He dreaded the desperation in his voice.

“I’m saying…” She disappeared.

The room became dreadfully cold as the woman Cialden had loved in life and in death faded away forever.

The creaking across the steps finally reached the third floor, on which the study resided. The door creaked open and the beam of a flashlight shone into the room. It swiped back and forth, passing over Cialden and shining right through. He stood as still as his corpse lay in the cemetery outside.

“Funny,” said the voice of the intruder. The beam landed upon Cialden’s favorite book on the floor. “How the hell did that end up there?”

Cialden stared at the last place Kytris had stood. He hadn’t felt this kind of pain since her first passing. But at least then, he could still feel her presence.

“Gee, it’s damn chilly up here. Might ought to turn up the thermo—“ “DEAR GOD, SHUT UP FOR A BLOODY SECOND!!” Cialden raged unlike any he’d felt before.

The books came flying off the shelves. Papers from the study's desk twirled in midair in a mini tornado.

The renter, as Cialden was sure that he was, screamed and ran out the door, carelessly flying down the stairs.

Cialden floated after him, his fists clenched. The twisting pain from Kytris’s absence multiplied into anger. “How could she… why would she…?!” Cialden tore the house apart. Furniture flew and crashed, china fragmented, doors and windows slammed open and shut.

Cialden watched as the intruder, the renter, flew out the front door and into his bean-shaped carriage. Magnificent starlight the colors of red and gaslight dashed away from the manor, down the road.

Suddenly, with no one left in his home, Cialden felt tired. He fell into a deep, exhausted slumber.

*	*	* “Cialden Bartelow, Kytris Bartelow… call upon your name… answer me from the… beyond.”

Cialden awoke to a particularly obnoxious voice.

“Please speak… priest of Diabellos…” “Oh give it a rest,” said Cialden.

The new intruder blinked. Cialden studied the woman. She wore a cardigan over a simple, conservative outfit.

Again, they were in the study. The room where Cialden had died. Where Kytris had left him.

“Kytris? Cialden? Is that you?” asked the woman.

“Kytris won’t be coming back,” said Cialden glumly. “This is Cialden.” “Oh,” said the woman. An amulet across her bony chest glowed with jade light. “And where has she gone off to?” Cialden collapsed on the couch and lifted a wooden puzzle box, idly playing with it. “Goodness knows, my lady.” There was a tense silence for a moment. “Are you—“ “Tell me, what are you doing in my study? Where is the renter?” “The… oh, Mr. Constellos is my employer. He alerted me to poltergeist activity and I am here to expel you,” said the priestess from Diabellos.

“Oh, expell away then,” he said. The damn puzzle box was giving him a devil of a time.

“Cialden,” said the priestess. “You are aware that you’re… expired?” He sighed, “And here I thought this was an ordinary conversation with the town clergy. Of course I know I’m ‘ expired .’” Again, they sat in awkward silence.

“Look, do you need something or are you just here to gawk at a phantom?”

The priestess folded her twiggy arms, “Poltergiest, actually. Renters won’t pay good money for a poltergiest roommate.” Cialden rolled over, finally giving up on the puzzle box. “It was one time. I am not a harm to anyone.” He made to place the box down, but instead, it shot out through his fingers and blasted out the window. A carriage alarm went off outside.

The priestess quirked an eyebrow. “Look, something has got to be done. It’s beyond time for you to… pass on.” Pass on . Those infernal words were the last things she’d said before leaving him. All alone in this house. All alone in death.

The room became dreadfully cold. The priestess tighetened her cardigan and pulled a scarf out of the bag she’d brought in with her. “Cialden, please!” “No!” He growled, “No! I will not pass on like some… some dandelion in the wind!” The priestess remained still, pressing her arms tightly to her torso as the paper tornado did its rounds across the room.

But it was only for moment. Then everything was still again.

“All done, Cialden?”

He looked across the study to see she was seated at the desk. Despite her hair being upheaved into an absolute mess, she appeared unharmed and unimpressed.

“I’m sorry,” Cialden said after a time. “I don’t know what that was.” The priestess placed the puzzle box before him, the puzzle solved. In it was a little ring. Though it was dainty, it dazzled with diamonds and rubies.

“Kytris moved on, yes. And she did so without you.” Th papers on the floor stuttered.

“But,” the priestess continued, “It doesn’t mean she didn’t love you. Death comes in its own time, for each and every one of us.”

Cialden stared at the ring and moaned. “It is… it is so lonely.”

“I know,” said the priestess. Her eyes were telling; Cialden knew she had felt loss as well. “But we have to forgive. For it is the nature of things.”

He met the priestess’s eyes with his own. “But without her, what is there to pass on to?” The priestess shook her head, “Hope. Hope that in the mystery of it all, you two may be reunited.” Cialden sighed. His phantasmal hands shook, no longer with anger, but with fear. “Will you stay with me until the end?” She reached her hand out toward his. Though they couldn’t touch, her warmth carried over between worlds.

“Of course,” she said.

He nodded. He suddenly felt so very tired. “What is your name, priestess of Diabellos?” She smiled, “Reverie.”

For one last time, he smiled back, “Reverie,” he said, caught up in his own flashing memories. “I had a grand daughter named Reverie.”

“I know,” she said, those knowing eyes looking sweetly into his.

Cialden’s smile vanished. As well as his entire form.

The study was once again left with only one occupant. She gathered the papers back onto the desk and exited the premises of her grandparents’ estate.


"Are you coming tonight?" Sneha asked me excitedly. "Where?" I asked. "It's a new Year's party. I have got an entry pass for all four of us. It will be fun. Yoooo!" Her dance moves showed her excitement on the busy Indian streets of Mumbai with her right-hand index finger pointing towards the sky and left hand placed on her hips.

The sudden dance move startled me, and I looked at her with surprise. Meanwhile, my mind was running at its top speed, searching for a powerful reason to not to go with her.

"Umm, I have some urgent office work to complete tonight. You all enjoy on my behalf." "No. We are not going without you. You are coming with us. No reasons." 'How come she knew I am making reasons! What to do? Come on, Netra, use your skills!' I mumbled. "Senha, you know how my boss is! He wants us to work and finish this report. Otherwise, New Year will start with his rage on me!" "Ohh!" She frowned and kicked the empty can on her way while we strolled towards our house. We four lived in the same locality. Our floors face each other. Sneha and Apeksha are neighbors in building number 2, while Bhavna is my neighbor in building number 5.

We entered our locality, and this completed our group. Soon we became four as I saw Apeksha and Bhavna walking towards us. They both seemed excited, too. "Hey, why do you both look sad on 31st December? We all are going to a party! Cheer up!" Bhavna seemed excited too, as she Hi-Fi Apeksha. "Don't be excited. We have a mood spoiler in our group..! Sneha said, staring at me. "What? It's my office work and my boss who is spoiling our plan. Anyway, I have to rush and get back to working mode. See you all next year." I said, and winked at Sneha. I hoped she understands my witty comment. But they all were angry at me and stared back at me. "Ok. See you tomorrow." I rephrased my statement and started walking towards my house. I was afraid to look back. What if they  were still staring at me. I just wanted to climb upstairs and shut the door behind me. I wanted to spend some time alone. Thankfully, nobody followed me, and I did the same. I entered my house and locked all the locks on the door. I just wanted to be sure no one enters my house to disturb my private time. It was evening 6.00 p.m. when I finished my office work and walked into the kitchen to prepare some tea for myself. I kept the vessel on the gas stove and poured some milk. Added tea leaves and waited for them to boil so that the fresh fragrance of tea spreads in the air. As the tea was cooking, I peeped outside the window. Sneha's kitchen window is opposite of mine. Usually, we wave at each other from the balcony or windows. But today, she seemed nowhere. "Maybe I hurt them. Tomorrow, all three of my friends will stop talking to me. Wow! What a start of a New Year!" I mumbled with a sad face. As the tea started boiling, the doorbell rings. I lowered the flame and rushed towards the door to open it. Bhavna stood in front of the door.

"Hello." I greeted. "Hey, sorry to disturb you, but I just noticed that my hairdryer is not working. Can I use yours?" I looked at her. Her hair was completely drenched after the shower, and she needed it desperately. I felt pity for her and let her into my apartment. "It's over there in the bedroom on the dressing table. You can help yourself." I pointed my finger towards the bedroom and walked towards the kitchen. "Oh, do you want to have a cup of tea? I am preparing it for myself." I asked loudly from the kitchen. "Yes," prompt came the reply. It took me some more time to get tea ready for both of us and pour it into the cups. I neatly brought them to the table and some cookies to go along with them. "Bhavna, tea and cookies are waiting for you." "Yes, coming in two minutes," came the reply from the bedroom. I picked up my cup and started sipping tea slowly with some cookies. "Oh, you are already having your tea!" Bhavna's words broke my chain of thoughts. I looked at her. She looked great after all drying of her hair strands. "You look superb. Did you get a haircut recently?" I asked. "Yes." "It suits you." I complimented. "Thanks. I am so hungry. Let me have some cookies." She immediately sat on the chair next to me and continued, "by the way, is your office work completed? Did you share the report with your boss?" I completely forgot about the lie that I told a few hours back.

"Umm, yeah, I am working on it. I just took a break." I lied again and stood to grab the laptop.

"Ok, then I think I should leave. I don't want to disturb you." She finished her tea quickly and started walking towards the door. "Are you sure you will not come with us?" Bhavna asked. I looked at her and shook my head in denial. I lifted my laptop and showed it to her. She nodded and left without further interrogating anything. I heaved a sigh of relief and grabbed another cookie. **** I walked towards the balcony and gazed at the sky. The cool breeze of December made me feel how much alone I am today. I wanted to spend the last day of the year alone, similar to the days of loneliness in this entire year. My world revolved around my grandmother. She left me alone after battling long with the disease, and it left me with no one to call as family. I shifted city and settled here in Mumbai. This city doesn't make you feel alone at day times, but at night, it is equally lonely. I became friends with Sneha, Bhavna, and Apeksha. My small world of friends. It was 7.00 p.m. when the doorbell breaks my chain of thoughts. *** "Who is it now?" I wondered as I walked towards the door. "Hey, why so late in opening the door?" Apeksha said as soon as I opened the door. "Were you occupied with office work?" asked Sneha, moving me aside and entered my house. I stood holding the door open and staring at them confusingly as they walked towards the chair. "What are you guys doing here? Don't you have a party to attend? It's a new year's party." I asked, shutting the door behind me.

"Look at us. Do you think we are ready for a party?" Apeksha said. I looked at her; she was in a mess, and Sneha was equally looking terrible.

I sighed. "What happened? What's stopping you from the party?" "Power cut." Both replied in unison. I walked towards the balcony. "But every house has power in our locality. Only your both's house has power cut?" I questioned. "Yes, the same question we asked the electrician, and he said it is some wiring issue in both houses. So maybe it will take a day or two," said Apeksha. Sneha stood and said, "So can we get dressed here in your house and after the party, we stay here until the power is back?" Her puppy face melted me, and I agreed. For the next two hours, my house was in a complete mess. I sat on the chair with my laptop on my lap, pretending to work. I continued with my lie, and they continued with theirs. I knew something was cooking amongst them, but it wasn't clear what they were up to now. I waited to get my space back, to get my silence back. "How do I look?" asked Apeksha excitedly. 'Outstanding. Beautiful," I said. I looked around for Sneha, but she was not yet ready. It will take over one hour, maybe for them to step out for the party. My thoughts broke again with the doorbell. I opened the door and saw the missing person in the group standing at the door. She looked all set for the party and to welcome the new year. Bhavna looked stunning. I gestured Bhavna to come in. Apeksha and Bhavna were all set to go for the party except for Sneha.

"How are you planning to go to the venue?" I asked, interrupting their excitement and discussion on makeup and outfit. "We will take Sneha's car," said Bhavna.

"Ok.' I replied. I had to ignore everything that was happening around me. They continued with their chit-chats. *** My lie continued. I looked at the clock. It was 9.00 p.m. when Sneha stepped out. She looked stunning too, and I heaved a sigh of relief. I stood and said, "So you all are ready to go to the party and have fun!" "Yes, but we are expecting few parcels. We have to carry them too along with us," said Apeksha. "Parcels? What parcels?" I questioned. "Umm, yes, I have to give it to my friend. It's theirs," Apeksha replied promptly. "Then why on my address?" "Because we here since last 2-3 hours so I gave him this address. I hope you won't be angry." I stared at her and then agreed. "By when you all will return from the party?" I asked. "It will take time. Maybe early morning at 4.00!" Sneha said. "What? So late! You better take care and do not drink & drive. You book a cab and return home safe. Please." The doorbell distracts us, and Sneha ran to open the door. She takes three parcels and pushes the door with her hips. It stunned me to see three huge packets with Sneha. Parcels covered her face as she walked towards us zig-zag. "What's in these packets?" Apeksha and Bhavna looked confused, too. Sneha peeped from behind the packets and smiled. "Don't ask me. I also don't know what's in these?" Sneha said, smiling. "Ok, Let's leave," Bhavna said.

It was soothing. "Have Fun," I said. I closed the door after all my friends left. *** Suddenly, everything was peaceful, and it was relaxing. I ran towards my laptop to shut it and keep it aside. I hit the power button to switch it off. I then strolled to the balcony to check if they left. To my surprise, they all three were standing next to Sneha's car, looking up towards me. I smiled and waved at them. They all sat in the car, and I walked back into the house. Finally, I was feeling at home. I was happy to get my space back. I went into the kitchen to pour some fresh juice for myself. It looked refreshing. I grabbed the glass and sat on the chair placed on the balcony. Stars twinkled. I sipped the juice, and meanwhile, I thought to order food for myself. It was 9.30 p.m. Food delivery will take another one hour. I started cleaning the mess created by my friends. It's tiresome but time passed sooner than expected. 10.15 p.m. doorbell rings once again. I was happy that the food delivery is before time and I can have it peacefully, along with a glass of wine. I already prepared the atmosphere, dimmed the lights, and slow music went very well with the aura. I opened the door. "Surprise."

The loud voice gave me chills. It took me some time to understand that my friends are back along with those three packets.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked. "We... wait... what is this? Dim lights and slow music. Did you plan for a secret date with someone?" asked Sneha, pushing me aside. "Look at this, guys, come here and look, a wine bottle. Oh my God," said Bhavna, holding the bottle. "Keep it on the table, and can anyone please tell me what happened?" "Should we change the music and play some rock music? It's new year's eve, guys," said Apeksha, looking into my music collection.

Apeksha changed the music. Loud music raised my temper. Bhavna was still holding the wine bottle, and Sneha placed those packets on the dining table. She started looking for the guy with whom I was planning my secret date. "Stop it. Stop this music, and Bhavna put that bottle on the table now. Sneha, can you come here?" I ordered. Suddenly there was pin-drop silence. The doorbell rings again. "Oh, the guy is coming now," murmured Sneha. I stared at her. She placed her index finger on her lips and gestured me to open the door. I walked in anger towards the door. The delivery boy stood holding the food packet in his hand. I took it and turned to face my friends. "Smells good." Apeksha broke the silence. I glared at her. She, too, placed the index finger on her lips. I looked at Bhavna. She gestured towards the wine bottle neatly placed on the table. I nodded. I walked towards the table. I picked the boxes and kept them aside. I then opened my food delivery packet and served myself. I further walked towards the music system and played soft and slow music. I walked back to the dining table and poured some wine for myself. All this while, my three friends stood in front of me without uttering a single word. "Now, can anyone tell me what happened?" Sneha walked forward and said, "Our car broke down." "and?" "We called mechanic, but because of huge traffic, nobody can reach us on time. So," replied Bhavna. "So?" "So we finally got a taxi, and he dropped us back here," Apeksha said and took the chair in front of me. "Hmm, ok. Now?" "Now we have to celebrate our new year here," Apeksha replied silently. "What?" "Yes. Where can we go now? Are you expecting someone?" Sneha asked with a puppy face. That look always melts my heart.

She smiled at me. I cannot hold my anger, and I smiled back at her. All three of them ran to hug me. The force of the hug made me dis-balance from the chair. In no time, I was lying on the floor with all three of my girlfriends on me. I have to push them aside and make some way to breathe. "Let me order some food for us." "No need. We already have it," said Bhavna, pointing towards those packets. She ran to open packets one after another. The first packet had food, the other had drinks and finally, the last one had a cake. As soon as Bhavna opened the cake box, I glared at them. The cake had 'Fantastic Four' written on it with four cute dolls placed on the cake. "So it was all planned?" I asked. *** It was 11.55 p.m.on the clock. "We just wanted to celebrate with you tonight," said Bhavna. "We don't want to leave you alone," Apeksha said. "and that's why we planned everything." Sneha joined them. They walked towards me. "We are sorry." The clock struck 12.00 A tear rolled down my cheeks. I smiled. "Happy New Year, guys," I said.