 INT. - OLIVIA’S AND HER ROOMMATE TIM’S APARTMENT - SATURDAY EVENING Phone rings. OLIVIA (Answers phone) Hello Jane. JANE Will you answer when I’m in a car crash and calling from a stranger’s phone? OLIVIA If I don’t recognize the caller ID, I don’t answer. And if you’re in a car crash, I hope you have the sense to dial emergency before calling me. JANE Don’t ever let me use you as my emergency contact. Olivia huffs. JANE Speaking of emergencies, I have been summoned to Scranton. Can you stay here with Babs until Sunday? OLIVIA Well, I guess I can cancel my date. JANE You’d do that for me? OLIVIA  I’ll be there in 30 minutes. Olivia hangs up. She scrambles to pack an overnight bag. Her cat, Percy, watches from a chair in the corner of the room.  OLIVIA (Talking to her cat)  Mama’s gonna be gone for a while but I’ll be back soon.  Percy purrs and Olivia's shoes clack on the hardwood floor, the door closes and locks.  EXT. – OLIVIA’S AND TIM’S APARTMENT  INT. – JANE’S HOUSE - SUNDAY MORNING The bed creaks as OLIVIA sits up and yawns. She shuffles to the bathroom, turns the water on and off, then ambles into the kitchen and steps in a puddle of urine. OLIVIA   Whoa, good morning. Ignoring a dog in the morning is not a good idea.  Where is Babs anyway, hmm? I’d hide too if I were her. Olivia gets down on her hands and knees and crawls to the antiseptic wipes on the shelf under the sink. OLIVIA (Grumbling) Why couldn’t they have gotten a cat? Olivia pops the top on the container of antiseptic wipes, pulls out a disposable cloth and scours her foot. She pulls out three more wipes to mop up the mess, her face grimacing with disgust. OLIVIA Bring on the coffee. Olivia opens several of the cupboards searching for coffee while mumbling to herself, then crouches to rummage under the sink. Babs, the dachshund, trots over, ready to play. OLIVIA (To Babs) There you are, I wish I could share your enthusiasm. — Doesn’t your mommy drink coffee? Olivia scratches the dog on the rear, stands and nearly collides with the bottom edge of an open cabinet door. She quickly jerks her head to the side but inadvertently connects with the corner of the ajar cabinet on her left. OLIVIA Ow, damnit. She winces when she feels the sting and massages the area with the heel of her palm before slamming the open cupboard door shut in a flash of fury. OLIVIA (Trying to remain calm) Okay, no coffee. (Sarcastically) Do you drink milk? Olivia opens the refrigerator and chuckles when she sees the coffee. OLIVIA Found you. She grabs a filter and scoops the coffee into the machine, breathing in the comfortable, robust scent. OLIVIA (Inhaling) Ah, that’s the stuff. While it trickles into the carafe, she scoops and pours kibble into Babs’s dish and refills her water bowl. OLIVIA And one-half cup of chow for Babs. The dog chomps, snorts, and laps up the water. OLIVIA (To Babs) Be right back. Olivia patters to the bedroom. She changes out of her PJs then returns to the kitchen and fills a to-go mug with coffee. She tucks a plastic bag under her arm. OLIVIA Don’t forget the poop bag. Come on buddy. The twosome takes a short walk around the block. The sun is scorching, so Olivia decides that she will take advantage of her neighbor’s pool. She stops at her apartment to put on her swimsuit, Babs in tow. When she enters the bedroom, Percy looks up from his chair.

 OLIVIA (to Percy) Just checkin in buddy. Percy mews and lowers his head, eyeing Olivia and the panting dog suspiciously. Olivia puts on her swimsuit while talking to a growling Babs. Then... OLIVIA Come on Babs. See you later. (To Percy)  The door to the apartment closes and Olivia returns to Jane’s house with Babs. OLIVIA And we’re back. Olivia removes Babs’s leash and Babs trots away. OLIVIA See you for dinner, I guess. Babs trots over to her bed in the corner of the living room, twirls, and settles noisily into contentment. Olivia strolls across the room and grunts as she tugs the sliding glass door open, then steps onto the warmth of the patio. She sprints toward the inground pool, feet slapping against the cement, and dives into the water, torpedoing to the opposite side. When she emerges, a miniscule, worm-like creature inches its way toward the injury behind her ear and wiggles through the puncture wound. She hoists herself onto the sidewalk, grabs the skimmer, and drags it across the surface of the water in an effort to catch drowned insects and fallen leaves in the net. OLIVIA (Humming) When she is through, she dives into the water and swims a few laps. She climbs on a floating raft. Soon her stomach begins to rumble. She rolls into the cool water before toweling off and going inside the house by way of the sliding doors. She throws a Hot Pocket into the microwave and the buttons beep as she starts the timer. She and Babs hear a vehicle trundle onto the gravel driveway. The dog darts from her bed, nails clicking on the slate tile of the foyer. She sits in front of the door, willing it to open, her tail whipping to and fro. Her ears perk and she freezes as her master’s voice approaches. Olivia opens the door and Babs yaps with delight as Jane pushes past her. OLIVIA (To Jane) Hey, welcome home. JANE (To Babs) Make room for the suitcase buddy. Jane drops her duffle bag and hands Olivia flowers before picking up Babs. Babs licks her face. JANE (To Babs) I missed my Babsy. We’re so happy to see each other. Yes we are. JANE (To Olivia) I forgot your favorite flower so carnations will have to do. OLIVIA How’s the family situation? I hope all is well in Scranton. JANE The situation has been solved. Microwave beeps. OLIVIA Oh, I popped in a Hot Pocket. JANE Stay, eat. Glad you made use of the pool, the water needed to be stirred a bit. OLIVIA Actually, I’ll take my meal to go. Percy is going to think I abandoned him. Olivia caresses the dog. OLIVIA I enjoyed your company, Babs. EXT. – JANE’S HOUSE INT. – OLIVIA’S AND TIM’S APARTMENT – MONDAY MORNING Percy pounces on Olivia's chest and yawns. OLIVIA (Open’s her eyes.) Phew, tuna breath. Home sweet home. Percy leaps to the floor and Olivia throws back the sheet. She saunters to the bathroom and looks into the mirror while folding back her ear to check her wound. OLIVIA (Yelling) Tim, can you take a look at something? I’m in the bathroom. TIM (Yelling) I told you that we need to keep this relationship platonic. OLIVIA (Yelling) Ha ha, just get your ass in here. Tim stands outside the bathroom door. TIM Yes ma’am? Olivia Does this look infected? Tim examines Olivia’s wound. TIM It’s a little swollen, there’s a puncture wound on the tip of the lump. (Chuckling) The lump has a tail, like a polliwog. Put some triple antibiotic on it.  OLIVIA  What, a tale?  TIM  Not a literal tale, there's like a bald spot trailing the lump about an inch long. OLIVIA Yeah, ok. I need to get ready for work. Olivia shoves Tim out of the bathroom and shuts the door. After getting ready for the day, she walks to the kitchen, pours a cup of coffee, and pulls out a chair. OLIVIA Butternut muffins and bananas, yum. TIM Anything exciting happening at the Institution today? OLIVIA You mean the assisted living facility? I’m planting trees in the nursery. TIM Nursery? Does calling a garden a nursery make the old people feel younger? OLIVIA Ask your mama. TIM Oooooooo burn. Olivia finishes her coffee and feeds Percy. OLIVIA (To Percy) Have a great day baby. TIM (To Olivia) You to Sweetie. Olivia slams the door. EXT. – OLIVIA’S AND TIM’S APARTMENT The assisted living residence where Olivia works as the seasonal landscaper is less than a mile away, so she hops on her bicycle. Later, when she arrives home, she sags on the stool in front of the vanity mirror in her bedroom. INT. – OLIVIA’S AND TIM’S APARTMENT Olivia sags on the stool in front of the vanity mirror in her bedroom. OLIVIA Mirror, mirror, on the wall. She takes the pins and elastic out of her coiled bun. Several loose hairs catch in the nylon bristles of her brush. OLIVIA Huh, well, they say you lose a hundred hairs a day. She frowns but braids her hair as usual before showering and going to bed. EXT. - MONDAY INT. - TUESDAY MORNING Cat yowling. OLIVIA (Sleepily) I’m coming, hold it for mama. Percy’s body repeatedly jerks then he vomits. By the time Olivia cleans it up, she is running late for work, so she doesn’t take the time to unravel her braid from the night before. TIM (Yells to Olivia as she rushes out the door.) Have a great day. Door slams.  After work on Tuesday, Olivia collapses onto the stool in front of the vanity mirror and unlaces her messy braid from the previous night. Several strands get tangled between her fingers. OLIVIA What the…? That’s more than a hundred hairs. This can’t be good. Not wanting to fuss with her hair any further, she leaves it loose, showers and goes to bed. EXT. - TUESDAY On Wednesday morning. Percy wakes Olivia by kneading her ample breasts.   OLIVIA Hey Percy cat, careful with the claws.  When she lifts her hand up to pet him, he leaps from her chest and her hand flops onto something silky and sleek, like a cat’s tail. Her eyes shoot open, and she sits up in a dreamy panic. Tassels and tuffs of Olivia’s hair cover the pillow beside her OLIVIA (Astonished) What, my hair?  She hurries to the bathroom mirror. OLIVIA (Voice escalating) No, no, no, no, no, no… Tim runs from the kitchen. OLIVIA (To Tim) Shave my head. TIM What? OLIVIA Every day I lose more hair. I look like a freaking witch. (Hesitates, then sighs with frustration) Never mind. Olivia opens the medicine cabinet a grabs Tim’s electric razor. TIM Your hands are shaking, I’ll do it. Tim starts shaving Olivia’s head. TIM Holy twisting trail! OLIVIA Tell me! TIM Remember that polliwog tail? OLIVIA You mean the bald patch? TIM  It seems to have grown. OLIVIA Grown? TIM More like spread. OLIVIA (Panicky) Tim! TIM There’s a trail on your scalp. Like a tiny lawn mower got out of control. OLIVIA What are you talking about? TIM Let me finish shaving, then you can see for yourself. (After a few seconds) Damn. Hold on. Tim gets a hand mirror from Olivia’s bedroom and gives it to her. Olivia O—M—G where did this lump come from? Olivia presses the quarter-sized lump at one end of the meandering trail. The lump ripples. OLIVIA Squeeze it. TM Um, no. OLIVIA Come on, it’s awkward for me, I can’t see what I’m doing. Olivia opens the cabinet and knocks pill bottles and bandages from the shelves into the sink. A pair of toenail scissors catches her eye. OLIVIA Maybe I could stab it with these.  TIM Give me that pack of razors. Olivia tosses the scissors into the sink and finds the razors. Tim removes a blade. TIM I need alcohol. OLIVIA (Impatient) Just do it! TIM Okay, okay, hold still. Olivia lets out a squeal as Tim slices the surface of the lump. TIM Holy extra-terrestrial, something is trying to force its way out. OLIVIA Pull it out. TIM It’s too quick. Come on you bastard. I got it. I think it’s the head, it’s hard as a gold nugget. OLIVIA Did you ever hold a gold nugget? TIM My father lost a gold filling once, I found it . Squelching noises. TIM I’m pulling. The lump is going down like this thing is uncoiling as I pull. (Seconds later) The lump is completely deflated now, but it’s still coming. OLIVIA I could feel it slithering beneath my skin. TIM Out. OLIVIA Thank goodness. Tim lifts the lid on the toilet with the intent of flushing the slimy sucker, but it starts to curl upward toward his wrist, startling him, and he drops it on the floor. TIM Aww, shit! OLIVIA What? TIM It almost bit me. OLIVIA Did you drop it? TIM It’s coiled near the baseboard. Percy prances over, sniffing and batting at it with his paw. OLIVIA Percy no, shoo, get, don’t do it. Percy scoops the creature into his mouth and escapes through the open doorway. TIM I think he ate it. The cat pauses in the hallway to gag, half of the thing dangling from his chops. Tim pounces. TIM Gotcha! —Son of a. Percy’s slick fur slips easily from Tim’s grasp, and he darts ahead a few more feet, pausing again to gag. Tim pounces again, reaching for the scruff of his neck. TIM No use struggling, pal. Tim slides the entity from the gagging cat’s throat and scrambles to the kitchen sink, flicks the switch, and drops the parasite into the gurgling garbage disposal. EXT- WEDNESDAY   Olivia arrives home from work on Friday. TIM So, was your new due a hit? OLIVIA Actually, it was. Gladys is my biggest fan. She says it reminds her of the winding waterslides her grandchildren love so much. TIM  I like it too. You look badass. It goes nicely with your piercings and tats. Olivia enters her bedroom and finds her bed strewn with Percy’s hairballs. OLIVIA (Worried) Percy, here kitty kitty.  Percy saunters over to Olivia purring. He rolls onto his back, exposing his belly. OLIVIA (yelling) Tim. Tim stands in the doorway to Olivia’s room. He looks at Percy, the cat has one long, ‘S’ shaped bald streak mowed through his fur. TIM Is that an ‘S’ on his belly? Super Cat. OLIVIA This isn’t funny. TIM (Reluctantly) The creature may have torn while I was pulling it out. OLIVIA What!? My poor baby. TIM He’ll get it out naturally. OLIVIA I’m putting you on litter duty. TIM You say that like it’s something new to me. Eww, is that a hairball? OLIVIA Don’t change the subject. TIM No, look. That hairball’s moving. On the bed, a hairball twitches. Tim moves closer. TIM I believe Percy expelled the last of it.


To: Melly Belly <cranegamer@arteburn42.com> From: Melanie Arteburn <mbarteburn30@gmail.com> Time: 05/10/2022, 2:11 am EST Subject: URGENT! THIS IS YOU FROM THE FUTURE!!! DO NOT DELETE! To My Younger Self,

I have so much to tell you, where to start? If you meet boys named Walker Deager, Richard Smith, or Michael Hill - date them if you wish - but know that it’s doomed from the start, and it’s for the best that you eventually break up. They are still boys when you meet them, and they haven’t learned what it means to love a woman for herself; they care mostly about what she can offer them. Most boys and men will be like that, and sometimes they grow up to be better. Don’t let that scare you, I just wanted to let you know that’s out there. You eventually find love that seems fit to last with Martin Huong. He’s 26 when you meet in Birmingham, AL, the 1st of August 2016. That being said, I wouldn’t recommend trying to meet him before he’s that age.

I’m sure you’re interested in knowing what the world is like in 2022, the time that I write to you from. I’m sad to report that the world suffers from numerous crises, and its people are divided and conflicted. Natural disasters increase in frequency and intensity as global warming continues unmitigated. A worldwide pandemic ravages the nations and millions have died. Politics becomes a contentious and polarized exercise. Democracy is threatened at home and abroad. I could go on.

I don’t know when you will receive this, only that you might. You might not believe me, and I understand you should be skeptical. Please, hold on to this, and if my predictions come true, then heed my advice!

These events have come to pass in my time: Grandma Wanda will be diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. You, Mom, and Dad will move to Tennessee to be close to her in the summer of 2006. She will die Sept. 25, 2015 in a memory care unit. It’s going to be rough. Try to be grateful for the time you have, and don’t be too hard on yourself for the crazy stuff you’re probably going to do. Dad’s going to file for divorce from Mom in May 2010. You’re going to be the one who answers the door when the sheriff serves her the papers. It’s going to get nasty and acrimonious, but trust me when I say they will be much more sane and happy after a couple years apart. Don’t feel like it’s your fault, it’s not your job to keep them together. There’s no way you acting better as a teenager could have saved their marriage.

You’re going to do pretty well academically and end up getting paid to go to college. However, during those first university years you’ll suffer from a major depressive episode that’s the result of years of poor mental health hygiene, and it’s possible you can still avoid that. Get treatment and support, or risk losing your scholarships!

Stay away from Jared Forner. I’d rather not say why. Just. Stay. Away. From. Him. If you’re receiving this after 2005, then the thing I want you to avoid has already been set in motion. Barack H. Obama will be elected the first African American president in 2008. Some people will think that means America is moving toward a more equitable society, but it’ll turn out they’re overly optimistic. America on the whole will continue its hostility toward minorities, and white nationalism will become a thing again in America! It’ll eventually be called “MAGA,” for “Make America Great Again.” Despite that, Obama will be reelected in 2012. His administration will pass something called the Affordable Care Act to expand health insurance availability and coverage. It kind of works, and it kind of doesn’t. During the summer of 2011, you will go on an educational tour of Italy and Greece, so make sure you renew your passport. Or don’t, because Corey and Jacob will have to drive you to New Orleans to get an expedited passport at their regional office just ahead of the trip when you realize yours is expired. You get drunk for the first time walking on Bourbon Street and end up dancing five blocks with a wedding parade and brass band. You’ll thank Corey and Jacob profusely, but they’ll just say, “that’s what big brothers do.”

Speaking of Greece, it will announce bankruptcy in 2015. When you visit in 2011, there will be some protesters in an Athens square restless about the state of the economy, and it turns out they were right to be concerned.

The UK will take a nationalistic right turn in 2016 under the leadership of Boris Johnson, and there will be a push within the country to leave the EU. Instead of Parliament doing their job of making decisions to govern the country, they will turn the decision over to citizens in a referendum. In a very close contest, Britain will decide to leave the EU, and they will spend the next 4 years trying to untangle their finances and policies. Jacob will meet a woman in the summer of 2015 whom he will marry in the summer of 2016. In May of 2017, they will file for divorce. Just do your best to be a supportive sister while he’s going through all of that, don’t let him go through that alone. It felt like we drifted apart after that because I wasn’t there for him.

Donald J. Trump, the reality T.V. host, will become the US president in 2016 after Obama, even though he loses the popular vote. The weird thing is a cult-like conspiracy group will form around his presidency called QAnon, which casts him as the savior of America taking down a satanic child-cannibalizing cabal. In 2020 he will lose his bid for reelection against Joseph R. Biden, and Trump followers will storm the US Capitol building Jan. 6th 2021 in an attempt to overturn the election results.

A major contributor to President Trump losing the 2020 election will be how he handled the global pandemic that will begin to shut down the world in March 2020. Hospitals around the world will become overwhelmed, and millions will die of it from 2020 to 2022. It’s a dark time, and everyone except essential workers will spend months locked down at home. At one point, you’re going to spend 11 consecutive weeks without meaningful human contact, and during that time you’re going to do some bizarre things out of sheer loneliness and boredom. Don’t be self-conscious about it, lots of people are going to be doing them, too. You’ll learn how to make a really good sourdough loaf. Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg will die on 18 Sept. 2020. Her dying request will be for the administration to delay replacing her on the supreme court until the start of the next presidential term, so that the will of the people in the election can determine the balance of the court. Naturally, the Trump administration will rush to swear in its nominee ahead of November.

Grandma Coco will die on 2 Dec. 2020 in her sleep, after a couple years of hospitalizations and rapid health decline. Because of the pandemic, you will not see her in the last year of her life, during which she’ll be bedridden. I would say, go ahead and visit her when you can, just be careful and manage the risk as best you can. You won’t get another chance. You will eulogize her at her funeral, during which several people will try to hug you, but since you’ve been practicing social distance for months, you politely try to decline or dodge them.

America will withdraw from Afghanistan after 20 years of occupation in Aug. 2021. Within days, the entire country will fall to the Taliban. By then, something called “unboxing videos” will be a trend, and the Taliban will celebrate their conquest with the grimmest unboxing videos in history.

On 24 Feb. 2022, Vladimir Putin, the Russian president, will declare war on Ukraine and invade the nation. He’ll claim that it’s not a war but a special military operation to denazify the government and protect Ukrainian people; however, indiscriminately killing citizens and targeting non-military infrastructure seems the most backward way to go about it. The war is ongoing.

Now, this is my advice:

There’s going to be a housing market crash in 2008, followed by a recession for 2 years. But from 2010-2019 there will be a bull market with few downturns, so invest whatever money you have in the stock market during that time, and you can’t go wrong. In 2019, you’ll want to sell off investments that will see a downturn during pandemic lockdown, things like hospitality and travel services. If you feel guilty about using this information, don’t. U.S. senators will be doing the same thing once they find out about the pandemic ahead of the public. Also, invest in BitCoin when it’s cheap, shortly after you start hearing about it. No one will be able to explain what it is to your satisfaction, but it’s worth a great deal somehow, someday.

Tech companies, especially ones in something called “the share economy” will rapidly gain value, a couple are Uber and AirBNB. I know it sounds crazy, but those are softwares that people will use to ride in strangers’ cars and sleep over in houses of people they’ve never met. Most people will start to get the news from social media instead of the cable television, and a lot of news on TV and the internet will be called “fake news,” and it will take some fact checking to figure out which is which. Most people won’t bother with that. I don’t want you to get duped, so question an article’s motivation, check the sources, and look for corroborating stories when it counts for something.

A lot of this won’t make sense depending on when you get this, which is hopefully shortly after setting up this email account in 2004. You’ll have to wait for events to unfold before they start to make sense to you. I want you, and by extension me, to benefit from this information. But I also hope you’ll aspire to use it to try and make the world better.

You might be wondering what you should do with your life. If I know you, you’re frustrated when adults tell you that you can do anything in life you want, so follow your passion. But if memory serves, you don’t feel particularly passionate about anything yet; you’re still figuring out what you like and trying to find where you belong. So, it feels bad when grown-ups act like you should know what you want and who you are before you’ve had the chance to explore. I won’t tell you to follow your passion and become whatever you want. I won’t tell you what your life’s work should be. Instead, I think you should follow your curiosity, test yourself, and learn to accept the person you discover with compassion.

Don’t let anyone, most of all yourself, try to make you into an ideal or object of admiration. There’s nothing wrong with striving to be your best self, but acknowledge that you’re a complicated person, prone to mistakes, and you’ll find that there’s no shame in it. The shame comes from hiding your truth. My biggest regrets are from being too hard on myself and the people in my life, not reaching out for help when I needed it, and coping in ways that made me lose self-respect. Accepting the dangers of letting others see you for who you are is hard, but there is value in the struggle, and the rewards are worthwhile.

Here’s the biggest piece of advice I wish I had known when I was younger: always empty your bladder after sex. It’s amazing what a difference it makes. After I became sexually active, I had a ton of UTI’s, and one of them developed into a serious kidney infection. Make sure you talk to your doctor if you have painful urination or sex because that is not a normal part of sex for women! If anyone tells you it is, then they’re not doing it right. And while we’re on the subject, always use a condom or other birth control until you’re ready for kids. Don’t believe a guy if he tells you he can’t because of a latex allergy, because there are latex-free ones on store shelves.

Best of Luck,

Future You, Melanie Arteburn … To: Melanie Arteburn <mbarteburn30@gmail.com> From: Ashley William Arteburn <ashley.william@arteburn42.com> Time: 02/02/2006, 6:50 am CST Subject: RE: URGENT! THIS IS YOU FROM THE FUTURE!!! DO NOT DELETE! Stay away from my daughter, she’s 15 years old!!! I don’t know if this is a prank or a scam or if you’re watching us to know about my mother’s diagnosis. But stay away from my family, OR I WILL CALL THE COPS!!! I have blocked your address from my daughter’s email, and she has not seen your message. You will not be able to contact her for whatever twisted game you’re playing. LEAVE OUR FAMILY ALONE!

…

To: Ashley William Arteburn <ashley.william@arteburn42.com> From: Melanie Arteburn <mbarteburn30@gmail.com> Time: 05/10/2022, 12:34 pm EST Subject: RE: RE: URGENT! THIS IS YOU FROM THE FUTURE!!! DO NOT DELETE! First of all: WTF, Dad?! You intercepted and read my emails? That’s not cool, I thought those were private! Second of all: I’m not a scammer or something else messed up. I’m Melanie from the future, and I can prove it. Third: WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO CHANGE THE FUTURE?! I’m rereading the email I sent, and I have no idea who Martin Huong is, and half the things I wrote are different now! Something that you did makes it so I never meet a man named Martin Huong, and it changes a bunch of other things, too! I just looked him up on True Social, and he’s been married for three years. Do the math: if we met in 2016, then by the time I sent the email we knew each other for nearly 6 years, and now that never happened! I don’t know how, but you’re screwing up my life and the future. You need to stop before you do whatever it is you did to change things.

Here’s my proof:

These famous people will die in the next three days: 2/3/2006: Al Lewis (Alexander Meister), American actor (The Munsters, Used Cars), dies at 82 2/4/2006: Myron Waldman, American animator (Fleischer Studio), dies at 97 2/5/2006: Franklin Cover, American actor (Tom-The Jeffersons), dies at 77 You once told me something you said you had never told anyone else. Your father died from a neurodegenerative disease. It was initially diagnosed as ALS, but he survived another 5 years, casting doubt on the initial diagnosis. He was given experimentally high doses of Prednisone to attempt to delay his decline, but the last few years of his life he withered to “leather and sticks,” in your words.

On the last day of his life, the two of you got into a fight. You screamed at him and said you hated him, and he died that night from cardiac arrest. Ever since, you have blamed yourself for cutting your father’s remaining time short, because it’s likely the shock of your fight overtaxed his weakened heart. You told me then that you had killed your father. That even though no one blamed you for it, you knew you had murdered him. You knew the risks, but you gratified your own selfish feelings, and it killed him. You told me that story, and that you had never confessed it to anyone before, shortly before your own death on 12 April 2010. I don’t know a good way to say this, so I’ll just say it. When I wrote that first email, I think you were still alive. Otherwise, I would have mentioned it like I did Grandma Wanda and Coco, and you couldn’t have filed for divorce the month after your death. You died under suspicious circumstances, and Mom was under investigation for homicide because it was discovered she had been having an affair. It was eventually ruled a suicide.

That means something I tell you in these emails will either drive you to kill yourself, or you’re going to reveal to someone that you received communication from the future, and they will kill you to cover up the secret and horde the information for themselves. So, I guess now both of us have murdered our fathers.

And not that it matters, but the Melanie in your time is 14 right now, my birthday is in September! If you can't remember how old I am, at least do the math! You’re an engineer for crying out loud! Here’s what you need to do: 1. NEVER REVEAL THE INFORMATION IN THIS EMAIL AND YOU JUST MIGHT LIVE. 2. Give the me of your time my original email, and/or delete your copy so it can’t fall into the wrong hands.

Best of Luck,

Your Future Daughter, Melanie Arteburn


“Can you keep a secret?” I rolled my eyes, not bothering to look at my sister as I searched the TV for something interesting to watch. “Better than you since since you’re going to tell me one." Sarah plopped down next to me on the couch. “Well if you’re going to be like that then maybe I won’t tell you. “You can’t not tell me a secret after saying you’re going to tell me a secret!" I said, looking at her. "That’s mean.” “Fine I'll tell you but you can’t tell anyone. Janet will kill me if she knew I blabbed after promising I wouldn’t. “I’m your big sister," I said, returning to my channel surfing. "Your secrets are mine, just like that shirt you’re wearing is mine. I thought it got lost at the cleaners.” “It doesn't even fit you anymore. Do you want it back?” I waved the offer away. “Keep it. I want to know the secret.” “Kathy’s pregnant.” I turned, mouth open as my mind tried to process the bomb Sarah dropped. “Are you serious?” Sarah nodded, smiling at my shocked expression. “I was there when she took a pregnancy test. Came back positive.” “Who’s the father? Is it Tyler?” “She doesn't know. There’s been a few guys pulling into her station since he left.” “Really,” I clicked the TV off. “They broke up last month. How many guys could there be?” “3.” I shook my head at that. “I shouldn’t be surprised. She was always boy-crazy in high school, why would she change at 23.” “If I recall you also had your share of boyfriends at the time,” Sarah pointed out.

“Yeah, but I never went all the way. They were more for show, something to make school fun. When they got too pushy then I dumped them.” Sarah pulled out her phone. “I’m just saying, we all enjoyed being with guys so don’t judge. You want me to order a pizza since it’s almost lunchtime?” I nodded. “Cheese and mushrooms. I’m not judging, just stating the facts. So what is she going to do? Does she know who the dad is?” “Not really. She hopes it’s Tyler since they’ve been together the longest and the others were just one night stands but the timing is too close,” she entered our order on the DoorDash app then grabbed the remote from me. “She plans on telling him but wants to wait until the end of her first trimester which is 12 weeks.” “Why tell him? Why not wait until the baby is born and get tested? If she tells him now and it turns out not to be his, that's going to be bad for everyone.” “Yeah, but if it is his then at least he had time to get mentally prepared for it,” Sarah turned on the TV. ‘Besides, just because it isn’t his doesn't mean he can’t raise it as his if he wants to.” I made a face at that. “I don’t know. From all the time I’ve been around him Tyler doesn't seem the kind of guy to settle down.” “You've only been around him four times in the three months they were dating and that was when we went to clubs or the movies.” “And?” “And, you can’t judge someone for liking to party when they are in a party situation. Come on, Jessica, let's be fair.” “I’m fair, I’m just saying she shouldn’t settle for him just because of a freak accident.” Sarah pulled up the DVR and clicked one of our favorite shows. “I don’t think it was an accident, not 100% anyway. She wanted to get pregnant with Tyler’s baby.” “Why? He’s got a shit job and they didn’t seem all that close when they were together.” “I’m just telling you what she told me,” Sarah checked her phone. “Pizza is almost here.” I stood up and stretched. “Well, if she got pregnant just to keep a guy like Tyler than she’s stupid. She’s 23, working part time at a steakhouse and he’s 25 working at his dad’s garage. It’s a good thing her parents are cool and let her live with them.” “Don’t be so harsh. She’s our friend, even if she made a stupid decision.” “Technically she’s your friend,” I said, going to the kitchen. “She’s only mine because you're my sister and we share everything.” “Is that how it works?

“Yes. It doesn't work for you because I don’t have any friends to share.” “Gee, I wonder why.” The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of our food. I grabbed two cans of root beer from the fridge and poured them in glasses with crushed ice. Getting a serving tray from the closet I placed the glasses, paper plates and napkins on it

“So how big a secret is this?” I said, carrying the tray into the living room. “Can I talk to her about this or am I supposed to play dumb and act totally surprised when she starts showing?” “Just let her be the one to say something,” Sarah grabbed a plate and plopped a large slice of pizza on it. “I think I’m the only one she told and I don’t want her to be hurt. Plus there’s always the chance something could happen and she could lose it so it’s best to pretend you know nothing.” “Fine, I won’t say anything. I’ll just lurk on her Facebook and Instagram for updates,” I took a slice for myself and settled back on the couch. “Do me a favor though. Don’t get pregnant.” Sarah squealed, her mouth full of pizza. I smiled at her wide eyed expression. “I’m just saying. You and Tony seem serious and I don’t want you getting any ideas. I’m too young to be an aunt.” “You’re 26 which is nearly 30. You’re not too young for anything.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “You calling me old?” “Only because you are.” I took a bite of pizza and let the moment pass. Swallowing, I raised my glass and held it out to her. “Whatever. Do we have a deal?” “This is stupid. You know I don’t believe in premarital sex.” I raised an eyebrow at her, glass still raised. With an exaggerated sigh, Sara grabbed her glass and clinked it against mine. “There. I promise not to get knocked up before marriage. Happy?” I nodded and took a long drink from my glass. I knew it was a hollow promise, I’d seen birth control in her room while collecting her dirty laundry one day. For now though I was happy to pretend all was normal. Unlike her, I knew how to keep a secret.


I can count the number of times I’ve had a gun pointed to my head. This is my eighth occurrence since I started this trade five months ago. It’s not necessarily a fatal business, but people are desperate and you know that old saying about desperate times and desperate measures.

I remember the first time it happened, it was a sweaty, hot August night up in the Bronx. I just finished my first delivery. When I got back to my truck a cold piece of metal met my temple. My brother, being the man who got me the job, felt it his responsibility to teach me how to stay safe in these circumstances. Just tell me what you want, I said. My brother was right - give them the goods. The gun fell from my head and the person sprinted off, but not before swiping the box from under my arm. I hopped in my truck and locked my doors faster than a speeding bullet.

The second time it happened I was in Pelham Bay Park. Broad daylight. It was less than two weeks after the first incident so I was quickly rethinking my line of work… maybe I could make more money just working at Mickey D’s, right? This time the gun met the spot in between my brown eyebrows. Again, I followed my brother’s advice. I’ve got brownies. The man offered me a lump sum of cash, I counted it quickly and gave him what he wanted.

The third time was quite similar to the second, gun between the brows, sun was out, just a different location. I’ll give you whatever you want at a discounted rate, deal? Instead of cash she pulled up a Venmo app, lowering the gun while I typed in my boss’s Venmo handle. I grabbed three boxes and shoved them into her arms.

The fourth affair caught me by surprise because the drop off location was right in SOHO. It was ten in the morning on a Tuesday. Surely, no one is going to be caught with a gun in Manhattan, I thought. Wrong. After my drop off to the old lady in apartment 3B I was pulled into apartment 2B, the door was slammed behind my back, I was shoved up against a wall, the gun touched my temple. This is getting old. The man said I’ve seen you around, I want in on this. That - I was not expecting. So I hooked him up with the boss.

The fifth gun-to-head incident happened in November. I was in the Bronx, I just dropped off at Mrs. Hamilton’s a couple blocks down from my apartment when I saw my boss’s car on the corner. The back window rolled down, a hand came out, the pointer finger rolling in, beckoning me. I opened the door to the blacked out Mercedes. Hi Benny. She purred in my ear. She cocked a gun, lifting it under my jaw. I did not see that coming. How are you so good at this job, huh? She knows I can haggle better than anyone else. My sister. My sister taught me how to make a good sale. She lowered the gun to the console in front of us. Thank God. If I was afraid of any woman it was this one. Keep up the good work, but don’t you dare make my twins look bad. The boss didn’t want me to be better than her daughters. I understood and nodded my head in reply. I gave her the cash I earned that day, and she returned my keep. I was selling more than a Girl Scout in front of Target.

The sixth and seventh occasions were quick, handled with minimal effort on my end. Both happened in Williamsburg. I was being warned about territory.

Which all leads me to today. Number eight. My truck is loaded with fifteen boxes, my eyes see dollar signs. This is my first time doing a full pick up, typically I just get small deliveries from my brother. December is our last round of distribution until May, so the gunman either wants some of the really good stuff for free or he wants the full truckload to make some cash of his own before our off-season.

I had just closed the back of my covered bed pick up truck and got comfy in the driver's seat when I heard a gun click behind me. I have the extended cab so there is plenty of room for someone to sit back there without my noticing. I lift my hands up and off the wheel.

“Tell me your name.” The voice belongs to a woman, which is pretty common in my experience. They are spectacular at sales.

“Ben. Benny.” I feel a bit out of control considering she’s behind me and I don’t know what she looks like or who she is.

“Hi, Ben. Want to open up your trunk for me?”

I don’t respond.

“Don’t make this hard, okay? You just open the trunk, I’ll take your shipment. You tell your boss it was stolen, you were held at gunpoint. You don’t even have to lie.” “I’m not letting you take my shipment.”

“I’ll make myself clear. You open the trunk or” I feel the gun pressed against the back of my skull “I’ll do it myself.”

“Tell me your name.” “I’m Liza.” She climbs over the middle console and slides into the passenger seat like my sister used to when she was in middle school. She has short chopped brown hair and her brown eyes look like melted chocolate against her light brown skin. She extends her hand out and we shake longer than typical. She’s beautiful, to say the least. “So, Liza. You want my shipment, huh?”

“Yep. And maybe I’ll let you take me on a date afterwards.”

“You like sushi? I know a spot in Harlem.”

I’ll give this girl all my shipments if it means I get to take her on a date each time she wipes me clean.

We hop out of the truck and she tucks her Glock back into her purse. I open up my bed as she opens up the trunk of her Volvo XC60. I can tell she must be good at her job just by her car alone. Blacked out windows, roof racks, she even has one of those diamond license plate frames.

“I’ve got fifteen boxes… you can’t take it all.”

She leans back against her car. “Date or no date, honey.” She winks. Come onnnn. “NYPD!! NYPD!!”

Liza and I throw our hands into the air and look straight into the eyes of a male and female cop duo.

“Don’t move! We’ve been following you, Benjamin Bryce. We have every reason to search your vehicle, keep your hands in the air and stay where you are.”

Liza and I glance at each other then return our eyes to my truck bed and watch the male officer climb up.

He rips open one large box, I know exactly what he sees but the only thing giving us light is a sliver of moonlight so when he grabs a smaller box from inside the first his partner still isn’t sure what he’s holding. He moves to the next box, slicing open the tape with a set of keys. The officer pulls out a few more small green and purple boxes, then continues to open those too. I hear his fingers gripping the plasticky film inside.

“Officer Johnson, come up here. Open a box yourself.”

The female cop eyes me and then Liza back and forth then lowers her gun, but not before her partner raises his at us just in case. She pulls herself up onto the truck bed and bends down to the box right in front of her, she cuts the tape and pulls out her flashlight. The light shines into the box and I see the confused wrinkle in between her brows. She picks another large brown box, pulls the flaps back and brings a small green box out. She carefully opens the green box as if it were her own, stealing her dessert from the freezer. She pulls out a roll. “Thin Mints?” She waves her flashlight into the other boxes of cookies, Adventurefuls, Samoas, Tagalongs.

“Are you selling…”


The muck in the canal always upset Janie, but she’d gotten so used to it that she didn’t notice it any more. The half-submerged trolley was as much a part of her commute as the old oak tree at the end of the path, and now the only time she reacted to the garbage was when there was a new addition, or a particularly impressive piece of vandalism. The time that someone had managed to dump a temporary security fence in there she whistled; the time they’d gotten an entire sofa suite in there she’d stopped and admired it, until her stomach started twisting. Back when she’d been a child her family had played Pooh sticks in this canal. These days the sticks would get trapped before they’d made it under the bridge. But there was no other way to walk to her office, and if she kept looking to the other side the thin strip of woodlands were quite nice. As long as it was high summer, and the foliage covered all the rubbish that had been dumped by those too lazy to make it to the canal. Looking straight up was the safest option, or straight down, so Janie lived her life with a crick in her neck and impeccably clean shoes. It was spring, and time for the neighbours to redo their houses and apartments, and redo the canal while they were at it. Everywhere else in the city it was the start of the daffodils and crocuses, but for the fifteen minutes that Janie spent walking along the canal the only colour was from the fast food wrappers bobbing by. Normally she had headphones in, but she’d forgotten to charge her MP3 player last night, and she didn’t want to run the battery down on her phone. Her boss was a fossil, who looked as though she should’ve retired a decade ago, and would try and charge employees for using company power on personal things. That didn’t stop anyone else in the office, but Janie didn’t have the nerve for those sorts of games. So it was that she had her head down, wondering if she could justify a new pair of shoes yet, when she heard a small voice. “Help. Help me.” Janie’s blood ran cold as she froze. Her head spun around as she tried to find who’d spoken, but when the pathway was empty her fingers tightened round her keys. Was it a trap, or a prank? It was eight thirty in the morning, people didn’t beg for help in such broken voices at this time. It had the feel of someone with their head down the bog after a night out. “H-hello?” she said. “Is anyone there?” “Help me.” “Look, if this is some kind of game, then you can… just piss off, all right? I’m not in the mood for this sort of thing, and it’s not funny!” “No… please.” The voice was so faint, and as her brain went into panic mode all Janie could think of was ‘is someone trapped down a well?’ . It didn’t help her work out what to do, but at least she wasn’t shaking so much. “Well, where are you? What do you need help with?” “Look down.” “I’ve been looking down. I’ve done nothing but look down all the way here. I’m sure I’d have noticed if there was a person on the floor.” “I’m not exactly a person.” Janie froze mid-crouch. “Excuse you? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” “It depends on your definition of ‘person’.” “And how do you define it that doesn’t include you?” “Some people only use it to refer to humans.” “You’re saying you’re not human?” “No. But please, I need your help. I’m still dying.” “I–” Human or not she could handle (probably), but dying? “And what am I supposed to do about that?” “Please. I’m in the water.” For the first time in months, perhaps even years, Janie peered over the edge of the canal and squinted at the water. “Why can’t I see you then? Or hear you?” Running out of other options, her mind was torn between this being all a dream that she hadn’t woken up from, or the results of a dodgy batch of chicken last night. She was also trying to weigh up which option she’d prefer; the first one was simpler (but would mean that she dreamt about walking to work, and that was just depressing) whilst the second implied that she was a terrible chef. Sure she wasn’t good, but she’d been trying, damn it. Making sure she didn’t lean too far out, she tried to see if she could spot anything under the surface, but the water was too grimy to see further than a few centimetres. “I told you,” the voice said from right in front of her. “I’m in the water.” A face, old, withered and ghostly, appeared in the grimy water. Janie yelped and fell backwards. “I’m sorry!” the voice called, speaking louder to make itself heard, though the effort it cost was audible. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Please, come back. I can’t hurt you. I don’t want to, but I can’t anyway.” Walk away , Janie thought. Walk away. You’re going to be late for work. Instead she clambered back up and leant over again. Now that she knew what to focus on she could see the face clearer, although it still looked like an 80’s special effect. Like the voice, there were no clues to its gender. But then, did water have a gender? “What – I mean, who are you?” Janie asked. “What is accurate,” the voice said with a smile. It’s watery lips moved in time with the words, although the sound came from the area as a whole, and the effect was hypnotic. “I’m a water spirit. The water spirit of this canal, actually.” “Oh. Oh .” Janie looked up at the garbage and her cheeks went red with shame. “I’m sorry.” “Why? I know you didn’t do any of this.” “I didn’t exactly stop it either though, did I? Or clean it up.” Years worth of low-level guilt started burning in Janie’s stomach and she shifted about, still trying to keep her trousers clean. “How long have you been here, anyway?” “Since the canal was first cut.” “Oh wow.” “We manifest whenever water is gathered. It calls to us, it creates us. Water is the source of all life, and we are no different.” “There are more like you?” “Of course there are. There are millions of my kind, all over the planet.” “Then how come you’ve never been spotted?” Janie asked. “How come humans don’t know about you?” “Because it is safer this way. But please, I don’t have time for all these questions. I need your help.” “With what? Clearing the canal?” Janie looked up at the mess again. I’m going to be late for work, she thought. “No. It is too late for this water. I have to move, otherwise I will die.” “So why don’t you?” “I can not do it by myself. I am not strong enough, and there are not enough bodies of water around here for me to reach.” “You want me to carry you somewhere else?” “Please. I would be eternally grateful.” “I–” Janie bit her lip. Even across the distance to her office, she could already feel the beady, bloodshot eyes of her boss glaring at her. “I can’t, not right now. I have to get to work, otherwise…” Otherwise I’ll get in trouble sounded especially weak when the water spirit was dying. But what could she do? “Please.” “I… how would I even move you? Can I just pick you up?” “No. A container, a box or water-skin.” “I don’t have anything like that on me. I can pick you up after work today?” “You can? You will come back for me?” “Of course. I have to go this way to get home. I can buy a bottle at lunch time, and then collect you afterwards. Will you be all right until then?” It shouldn’t be possible for water to sigh so loudly, but somehow it did. Ripples bubbled out from the centre of the face, disturbing a beer can that was bobbing past. “Yes. Yes, I can manage. If I know you are coming for me. Thank you, human.” “Janie. My name’s Janie.” She wondered how many years it would be before she told anyone she’d introduced herself to a puddle. “Thank you, Janie. I’m Dernet.” “Dernet. The same name as the canal?” “I am the canal.” “I suppose so. Well… I have to get to work now, Dernet. I’ll see you afterwards.” “Yes. Yes, thank you, Janie.” “Right.” Janie wasn’t sure what the protocol was for leaving a river spirit, so as she stood up she said goodbye again, and darted away. After five steps she turned back to find a landmark, so she could find the same spot later on. Next to the… used adult supplies. No, the graffiti saying ‘Tom waz ere’ would probably work better. It was more pleasant to think about at least. She gave the area a final wave, before running the rest of the way to work. --- In the afternoon it wasn’t so simple. There were more people hanging about, including a group of teenagers, and the last thing Janie wanted was to be seen talking to the water. Or worse, the used adult supplies. She hung around for as long as dared, but when the teenagers started watching her she bowed her head and hurried home. On her way past ‘Tom’s vacation spot’, she whispered. “I’m sorry. I’ll try later.” Whether Dernet heard or not she couldn’t tell. --- It was dark when she headed back out to the canal. All the junk took on a sinister menace, and every shadow hid one of the teenagers, waiting to jump out and call her crazy. Or what if there were other spirits? If water spirits existed, what else could there be? The old canal path still had street-lamps, for which Janie sent up a silent prayer. She had to use the torch on her phone as well to find Tom’s tag. The dark changed all the proportions, making things look larger and further away. As soon as she found it she was on her knees. “Dernet? Dernet are you here?” “Janie? Is that really you?” Dernet sounded so surprised, and Janie was offended. “I told you I’d come back, didn’t I?” “Yes. But so much time passed, and I thought you had forgotten. Or had dismissed our meeting.” Janie winced. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to pretend this morning hadn’t happened, but her conscience wouldn’t let her. “It was too dangerous earlier. There were too many people about. But, here, I have the bottle. What do I do?” It was a 1.75l bottle; she’d had a panic in the shop, and worried that a standard bottle would be too small. The afternoon at work had been agony, as she dashed off to the bathroom every ten minutes. If she’d known she’d have a few extra hours in the evening, she wouldn’t have drunk all of it so fast. “Just hold it in the canal. I can get into it from there.” “Like this?” Janie forced most of the bottle under the surface, and shuddered as something floated by in the water next to her. “Perfect. Thank you.” There was a squelchy sound, and then a glob of water separated from the canal and danced over its surface like oil. It slid into the bottle forcing all the other water out. Once inside it rotated twice, like a dog padding out its bed. “Yes. Thank you.” “Am I all right to put the lid on?” “Yes. But I would prefer if you didn’t keep it on.” “Where do I take you now?” “For now, to your home. From there we can work something out…” --- Two months later, and Janie got off the aeroplane and wiped the cold sweat from her face for the hundredth time. At least here in the Caribbean it would soon be warm sweat, and she could stop having to pretend she was scared of flying. The fear of losing her luggage had been nigh-on unbearable, and not even the in-flight films had been able to distract her. As soon as she was through baggage collection with her small case safely in hand again she could breathe easily. The rush of relief combined with the heat was almost enough to make her pass out right there and then. But there was work to be done. Outside the airport she hailed a cab. “To the beach.” “Which one?” “Oh. Sorry, um, the nearest one?” The taxi driver turned in his seat and peered at her over his sunglasses. “You don’t care which beach?” “Not really. I’m British, any beach here will be amazing.” “In that case, can I take you to my favourite beach? See the best of our country, all right?” “Yes, that’s fine. Perfect, in fact. Thank you.” Janie barely noticed the taxi drive, still buzzing from the release of not worrying any more. She was here. They had made it. Having paid the driver and gotten directions to the nearest hotel, Janie lugged her small case and her backpack down the beach. There were locals and tourists about, and she headed off away from them. After ten minutes on the beach she took her shoes off, and grinned like an idiot as she tried to find a good place. At last she found a sheltered spot with no one else around. She opened her case and pulled the glass bottle out. The last bit of tension in her shoulders left when she saw it wasn’t cracked at all. The stopper came out with a pop. “Are you all right?” she asked. “Fine. Though I’m glad the experience is over,” Dernet replied. “Me too. How’s this place anyway?” “This is… perfect. Thank you, Janie.” “It’s no problem. I mean, I needed the holiday anyway.” The pair of them stood and admired the scenery, and Janie wished she could think of something to say. After living with Dernet for so long, she felt there should be more ceremony to this. “I shouldn’t keep you,” Dernet said at last. “You must be tired. You should go and rest, then enjoy your holiday.” “Yeah. But…” “Thank you, Janie.” “Yeah. And you.” “What for?” “For just… everything. Showing me there’s more to the world.” “For that then, you are welcome. Come on, we should do this.” “Yeah.” Janie’s voice caught, and with a cough she shook her head and walked down to the water’s edge. She held the bottle under again, and this time the water on the back of her hand was refreshing, even a little warm, and crystal clear. She smiled. This was a far better place to be a water spirit. With a rush Dernet left the bottle. As soon as they hit the sea they glowed and glimmered, then grew, under Dernet stood upright, balanced on the surface, looking down at her. She blushed as she stood up and dusted herself down. The face was a lot younger now. “Hey,” Janie said. “How’s that?” “Much better. I must go and introduce myself to the local spirit. Thank you once more, Janie.” “Any time.” “I will see you around.” “I hope so,” Janie sighed. “No. I promise.” And with a final smile that glistened like a sunbeam on a waterfall, Dernet collapsed back into the sea and disappeared.


He and I. Me and him... It was an energy that built over the course of a year. We flirted, we spoke. It wasn't that kind of shallow conversation that normal people have. Afterall, I don't really know how to have those. Maybe I mistook that he met me on my level. Maybe I wanted to believe he admired me as I did him. Maybe it was the worst end of a date that never happened. He was tall, and possibly handsome. It's strange with tall men. Sometimes people perceive them as good looking just because their eyes are drawn to the highest person in the room, but they aren't always so. I have met many people who say a man is attractive to them, and it really is just because he is tall. I admit: height does add a certain charisma, but I always try to see past a person's born attributes, to who they really are. I don't want to be blindsided by someone who knows they are attractive and uses that to get what they want. Right: this is a story about a first date I will never forget. And every first date, that I will never forget. Because. It was horrible. It started with me seeing someone and remembering him.  I see so many faces all the time of people I may or may not ever see again, that I could see the same face five times and still not remember seeing it before. If I remember a face,  then I know it must be special. A face, a dream, a possibility. I project onto him the fantasy of what could be, and a dance begins. He is smart (enough) to beguile me and I am willing to be beguiled. We have drinks (after all we are adults). We are adults who can accidentally meet for a drink (because we go to the same place at the same time) and during the conversation we realize each of us are hungry, and so we decide to go to dinner. We eat together separately,  drink some more,  pay separately,  and say goodnight. We decide not to sleep together. We are adults. We are adults who drink and enjoy each other's intelligence and conversation, and depth, and say things like "you know how much I admire you, even though I have never told you" and "I like you but I will never say it". So one day, after a year of these accidental meetings and deep forays into whether or not there is an afterlife, or the earth is flat, or death is real, or we are actually in hell and he's the devil,  which is really just a fallen angel (I argue) and I'm a psychic, or just super observant (he argues), he says "let's go home". And I think  "              ". "Yes", I say. We go. In the morning, he says, "Come back to bed. I'm leaving in two weeks. I have the next two days off. Come back to bed" I say, "oh" and put my shirt on. I leave his home for mine.  I can't spend two days falling in love with someone that's leaving.  I don't want to, that's not what I want.  I don't know any other way to react, than to withdraw, to make myself scarce again, so that's what I do.  I leave. That was the worst date I never had. It was a non starter.


       Alios loved to mess with the mortals who worshiped him. He loved breaking into their homes at night and turning their shoes into puppies and belts into snakes. He loved sending thieves into villages who forgot to leave offerings to him. He loved throwing parties for his fellow omnipotent beings. He loved what he did.        But Alios was not all tricks, thieving, and parties. Believe it or not, he was a devoted lover. Or, he was the former king of the pixies who left his queen for the hunter Goddess. Despite leaving his queen to rule alone he truly loved Otlene, the hunter goddess. And Alios didn’t love a lot of things. Hell, the only three things he loved was his job, kittens, and Otlene.        Oh, how he loved Otlene. He loved how she towered over everyone, he loved how she remained hidden under her fur cloak, he loved her elk antlers and rams’ horns. Her eyes, he cared not for, green like the forests she roamed. And the wolves, how could he forget the wolves? Wherever Otlene went a pack of wolves would follow. The wolves made it… difficult for Alios to get close. He guessed it was basic instinct, after all they were wolves, and he was a cat-like creature. A slender, human-like feline, with the torso and head of a mortal man, but the rest was feline. His arms had cats’ claws, his legs were meant to pounce, and fur to protect him from the elements.        One night, atop the tallest mountain on the continent, Alios found his love brooding. “What’s wrong my sweet?” He asked her.        “Those humans,” she grumbled, “they have no respect for my creatures.” She was overlooking a town off the base of the mountain, candlelight burning bright.        The trickster God plopped himself next to his lover. “Well, you know the saying.”        “Yes, yes, I am aware. Humans are horrible. It would be nice, to taking something from them. Like how they have only taken from me,” Otlene rambled.

Take. That word echoed throughout Alios’ mind. “I’ll take… something! I’ll steal from the humans!”        “Please don’t,” she warned.        “My love, your wish is my want!” With that said, he pounced off the mountain and landed in the woods on all fours. Not a single bone broken from his beast of a body.        He patrolled the outside of the town, far enough away from the human guards. Transforming into a small house cat, he snuck into the village. There must have been a party going on, for he smelled meat and cakes. Now he was pissed. The humans throw a party and don’t leave him any offerings? Unbelievable! This was no longer just for his love, but a personal vendetta.        Alios saw that one house was more decorated than the rest, fabrics with beautiful designs hanging off the buildings side. In his disguise Alios made it to the house fairly easily, with only a few stops because the humans insisted on petting him.        He saw an open window and leaped into the home. And the inside of the building was even more beautiful than the outside. Gifts of gold and ivory everywhere the God looked. But what would he take? What would his love want? He loved gold, but she had no use for gold, and gold was replaceable. What about ivory and animal hides? No, that was something Otlene could simply hunt herself.        And then he heard it. A baby’s cry, from the next room over. Carefully, he moved his feline form into this next room where there were more gifts, toys and soft hides. And in a crib, a baby boy with olive skin and black hair. A beautiful child.        The God turned back into his slender human-feline form and loomed over the child’s crib. This is a mere infant! He marveled. Is this all for him? A spoiled child. The humans take and take, and instead of helping one another they give to a baby? Oh no, this will not do!        He moved his feline paws into the crib and gently picked up the child, who was wrapped in wolfs skin. He cradled the baby, something his former Queen taught him to do. Alios cared not for children, they were loud and ruined the fun, plus they were horrible liars. But sometimes all it takes for a child to go missing and the humans go primal.        Instead of being subtle, he burst through the roof, holding the child close. The humans froze and stared at the God in fear. He could spot the boys' parents from the crowd, decorated in jewels and fine clothing.        The God said nothing. Nothing at all. And it only took nothing to make the humans panic. A guard tried to throw his spear at Alios, but the boys' father stopped him. Smart man.        He jumped down from the roof and the humans split like nut being cracked open. Alios took a step forwards and a random woman screamed. He hissed and took off into the woods, the guards and the boys' parents tried to follow, but Alios was too fast. And as soon as he left the mountain top he was back at its peak.        “My love!” He called out.        The hidden woman turned but even Alios could tell her eyes went wide when she saw the child. “Who is that?”        “It’s a child,” he told her.        “I did not ask what it is. I asked who ,” she scowled.        The baby boy tried to touch the Gods face, but the God in question simply ignored the child. “I don’t know,” he answered, “but the humans treated him as if he were a God himself! They had a party and didn’t leave me any offerings! I could not let that stand!”        The woman shot up, towering over the trickster God. “You stole a chief’s son!” her voice boomed.        Alios cracked a smile. “That didn’t stop me before.” “Put him back!” She demanded. His smile dropped and his grip on the child tightened. “What?” “Put. Him. Back!” She roared. “Or I will drag you there myself!” Below the hollers and shouts of the humans started to echo up the mountain. Alios hung his head low but nodded. “Alright, my love. Maybe the humans will show a little more respect, knowing a God stole their precious boy so easily.” The woman nodded her cloaked head and sat back on the mountains edge. Alios turned and began his decent to the human town. But as he made it halfway down and the sun began to rise, he realized something. It has been so long since I’ve had a human servant. He saw a wolf enter a cave off the side of the mountain. He followed the beast and snapped his neck with one paw, the other paw still holding the child. He tossed the carcass out of the cave easily and left the child on the dirty stone floor. “Don’t worry my new servant,” he whispered to the child, “I’ll come back for you later.” Alios grinned and pounced out of the cave, excited to have a new servant do his bidding.


Chapter 1 A plaster of anxiety covered him but it was not dominated fully by the fear of deep, blue seas waiting to uncover it's secrets but a much meeker fear ,the fear of people. He had to be stuck fully in an enclosed tube with a few people, underwater where anything could strike anyone and safety would be towering above them. Thwarting their efforts to reach it but then, it was covered by another fear when the turbines swished and pushed them to the unknown and he became so frustrated to have many anxieties. The turbines were slow but steady and it pushed them deeper into the sea and his fear suddenly subsided. Even in chaos, there was calmness . Chapter 2 The submarine lunged downwards like an arrow to the murky waters below. He turned his attention to a story he read, ' The Survey'. T he roars and howls of the submarine became no more than mere sounds. They were not far from humanity, they were cut off from it. Interaction with the others were going to be scant. A bit terrified and desperate, he actually spoke out. Chapter 3 ''Is it going to be a long ride?'' It was the sentence, he had spoken, that day. ''No. Depends on your definition of 'long'?'', the man near him spoke. He was at a towering height of 6'1, 2 inches above him. ''Duration?'', he asked objectively. ''Around 2 days. 1 day narrowing it down to the least.'', he answered but he didn't like him and sheepishly admitted to himself that he would have not liked any man speaking out those words. It brought inferiority with it. ''Thanks'', he said in a mechanical voice and the man had caught the mechanical tone of his voice. He went to his designated room. It resembled more of a cubicle. It camouflaged with the other cubicles and everyone came rushing to their rooms. An empty sense of formality filled him as he entered his room and when he laid down to sleep, he felt he could almost cry but during nighttime, that was a good thing. It helped you sleep better. He started to fantasize of how things would be, when he got to the surface. Submarine A11 is marked the best submarine in Diamondwood by

'The Times'. And then, suddenly, the world around him roared with the coming of dangerous truths. It was thrust deeper into the ocean and it was darker. They had come to the part of the journey where there was no turning back. It was when the real fear started. He slept without further complications as the sea around him wobbled in the darkness. Chapter 4 They had a bit of irritation while waking up, the next day but they all, decided finally and a bit, grudgingly that irritation was better than getting rusticated from the mission. He felt drowsiness heaving heavily on his eyebrows but he was glad, the so-called first day was over .'Everyday was the same. No light. Just the white bulbs in the submarine. No real sunlight.' He thought with a pessimistic inner voice and the tall man was there. The similar twinge of anger returned. He felt that the man was too practical. The real pessimism wasn't in the submarine but on the roughness of their mission. Floating like a rock in the endless and unforgiving darkness of the sea outside. A man, probably their leader, stood with great strictness. He didn't really look at the tall man with a mental disgust and anger but he felt exactly so, when he saw the assumed leader. ''I am your leader! Submarine A11 is on the drive.''. It was with a great authoritarian anger, he had said that. He had never felt as much anger for a person until this fateful day. ''Nobody wants your opinion'', he muttered under his breath in few tired and angry breaths. The crew broke off like disintegrating bread. He swished through the crowd as if it were the sea itself. ''What mission?'', he asked and was rooted to the spot in a rigid way like a tree. ''To find some species of fish'', the man said in a friendly way. He admitted to himself that he was actually a good man. His head was making up things like an insane person. ''Thank you'', he said mechanically and strode off from the scene. They were becoming friends and he was happy about it. Chapter 5 He started to feel good about himself. The training for research hadn't been so bad after all. He got a friend. The luxury, he didn't have so far. The anger suddenly returned as the man returned too. To him, it seemed like the actions of a maniac but to others, it seemed like the doing of a caring and broad-minded leader. ''Sorry to disturb your minds but we are in distress!'', he said. His underlying anxiety turned out to be true after all. Voices screamed in panic and scrambled around like splintering wood. He followed their actions and ran along. He rubbed his lips, closed his eyes for a brief second, and ran to the heap. He pulled out a swimsuit from the heap. The feeling, he had when the submarine was ready to push them to dangerous depths, came back now. He wore his swimsuits. He looked back and the white bulbs took the color of the sinister red bulbs. An alarm, suddenly broke out like a jump scare. It took him aback, but he sprang back and wore his suit, having no idea, of how he did it. Chapter 6 He followed the crowd looking like a penguin, desperate for help. A red bulb fused out and the crowd repelled from it like 2 like poles in a magnet. Then, the sound of breaking glass filled his ears and his eyes closed to darkness. Before passing out, he knew one thing. It was the sound of the window breaking, but he was not scared because he couldn't. He didn't have time for that. The darkness started, both physically and mentally. Chapter 7 He felt his leg wobble around in his sleepy state. His face started to stretch and his eyes seemed to eject itself from the body. He was in the deep sea. He screamed and kicked in fear. He kicked something solid. ''Help'', he screamed though it passed out only as bubbles. Everything was dark, like ink had been poured on his eyes. Suddenly, a providential image of the swimsuit, whizzed through his mind and it had a torchlight. He was lost with nothing to help , except the torchlight. He reached to it, as he swished the water around. He caught it and felt his way for the switch. Suddenly, it occurred to him that he hadn't checked the oxygen level and made up his mind, that he won't check it at all. He finally found the switch and clicked it. The light flowed outside and he saw particles dancing like dancers within the spotlight. His mind was in the crossover where desperation and smartness aligned. He started to think of how, he could go to the surface. He might have probably lost the submarine and that metal rock would be floating in the darkness, not knowing that a resident of it, was not in the safety of it's metal walls. The octopus or kraken could be here. Worse, the Cthulhu could be pulling him down to dangerous depths...... He shook off the thoughts as he looked back and a figure passed through the darkness. It had a cylindrical beak and green, cold eyes. He pushed it off. Then, he realized that it was a man, wearing a diving suit. Never, had he been so happy to see a man wearing a diving suit. The man held onto him and swam around, using his torchlight to guide them. He took out his torchlight like a warrior taking his sword and shone it against something like a rock. It was a rock wall that was shielding something beyond......... Chapter 8 He carved something but the sound of it did not reach him. To him, it all seemed like the breaking of the stone instead of a carving. The man showed a long thumbs up . ''You wouldn't believe what I found beyond this wall when I pushed it'' ,It was carved. He closed his eyes and placed his hand on the rock. Ready to push it open and reveal it. It could either give him, a new chance at survival and redemption. It could be some providential force to save him or it could be the contrary, the definition of death, he could be pushed into an endless, underwater abyss. Together, they both, touched the rock and pushed it .It fell to the other side ,whatever it was. Chapter 9 He couldn't believe his eyes and his heart started to pump fast. His face was stretched to the bone, making him look like a skeleton with a layer of flesh and he could feel his muscles crunch together to his nose. There were lights. Lights of color, blooming vividly. His mind shook with the surprise. His body wobbled with the shock of what he just saw. Then, he started to feel a sudden surge of excitement and realized that they weren't just lights. There was a whole underwater city. It had a large flawless obelisk, standing out, apart from the other buildings, undisturbed by the ruthless flow of the dangerous sea. There were no fish, which was obvious, considering, how much the town was safely pampered from the rest of the sea. There were shopping malls, supermarkets and houses ,not to miss the underwater sheds. Though, he didn't know why, those were used for. There were lots of buildings and to the far side of the border, there were statues of hungry tigers and lions . The ruthlessness present in their stony eyes, but the most magnificent was the obelisk holding the position of a leader ,holding the high ground. He was dreaming. There had been many dreams since he joined this mission. Dreams that blurred the line between reality and unreality. He squeezed in, through the hole in the wall. Chapter 10 His imaginative side. The one that refused to grow apart had been waded off, and was replaced by his practical side. The highest potential, this funny-looking city had was to give them a new submarine ready to plummet them above, just like how it was before all this drama, took place. The city was probably the ghost of what should have been around 1000 years back and 1000 meters above, from where it stood now but still, the reason, why it stood nestled inside a stone wall was unanswered. What he saw defied the limits of his imagination and mocked humanity's logic. Something caught his leg and he shuddered. The familiar image of the kraken came back to his mind as he turned to his back. Then, he realized it was the man and a huge wave of relief passed through him. Chapter 11 The extent of his admiration over the city was extreme, to the point, that the person near him slipped out of his mind. He bent his straight and rigid spine and drowned, vertically as he sunk below sunken city which was like Atlantis but it didn't seem to mimic it's architecture. He landed with a sudden, soft thump as the neon lights welcomed his arrival. The good thing was, nobody needed to die out of suffocation, under these depths. The pressure, alone can smash him into bits. He walked around and stumbled upon a hotel. The illogical neon letters were above the hotel. ''Stay with us'', it read blatantly. ''HOOOSH! SHOOOOHHH'' Something passed. Slowly but fast enough to escape his gaze. He continued with his walk again, briefly swimming for fun. Chapter 12 He saw a house, the modest among the buildings here. No neon lights present, yet it was visible, thanks to the light, emanated by the other buildings in the city. As he looked onto it, a black figure flashed before the corner of his eye like a jump scare. The sight of it could make him, turn vertical again. It was a man or at least, something that appeared to be a man. He had large pupils in his eyes and a bony neck, that was so thin to the extent, that it could break his flesh and come out but the strange thing of all, was that, there was a hexagonal patch of purple around his neck, which painted his hidden necks, like a cloud in a drawing. He swam again, as he realized that the surreal and beautiful city had a much darker thing, nestled in it ready to reach him out in the form of people with bony necks and then, the oxygen mask flashed back to his mind. The level would have significantly lowered by now. It could go all out of the cylinder and into the deep, unforgiving sea. Lost and unused, just like the city was. Chapter 13 He swam, using all his energy. Desperation and fear molded into madness as he sent ripples of water wading backwards. A image started to form inside his head again as fully developed like a baby bird in a egg shell but, it wasn't terrifying. It was an image of the modest house . He swam back, in unknown directions, hoping it wouldn't lead him to a terrifying thing and the word, 'terrifying', had taken on a much more realistic tone and not just something as funny as a monster in a closet. The wooden house was there, drowned and held by something that was probably, under the seabed. Strange. First, a whole underwater city, flourishing in the depths against potential predators and crushing pressures. Second, funny looking people with thin necks. He swam in and scanned the room around him, they were intact and there were the objects, which people had, back on the surface. Chapter 14 He awoke with a start. He was still underwater. Now, he started to feel anger rush through his eyes, instead of fear. So many thoughts had passed through his mind, that he forgot, that he had a heard a wobbly voice, like songs, heard in the restrooms of a ballroom. He started to come to terms with the situation but sometimes, life got absolutely bonkers to come to terms with. He looked at the timer of his oxygen mask. The level was full, and a wave of relief passed through him, that was beyond words....... Chapter 15 The door swished against the water and revealed a man. A thin man with a bony neck, just like the man, outside. He should have been excited of his discovery but impending danger was close to him and a discovery is nothing more than a sight, if he didn't live to tell the story. ''Cure the plague'', the man croaked out, in a tone that couldn't be spoken by a species that was not as old as the city. ''We are going through a plague. If you don't help us, the master will serve you right?", he croaked out again. Whatever it was, it should be faced by him. All he hoped, was the punishment was confined within the dangers of death. ''Swooooooshhhh'' A voice whirled around and the next thing, he saw was that the man was floating vertically upwards, absent-mindedly. Either fainted or dead. He didn't care about that. ''A whole protest is waiting outside'', his rescuer carved on the wall quickly. All things seemed to stop for him. Nevertheless, he rippled the water backward, as he followed. Chapter 16 There were hundreds of those, outside (Bony necks ). There were strange tubes, that were enclosed and looked like large bullets, floating and whirring around in dizzying sounds as they flew around him. The man swam upwards as his hand tugged his hands too. 'Swooooooooooooshhh' He heard the sound. The very same sound that he heard in that house. The house of that mad man. As he swam, the fact that he was a fugitive was thrust heavily on him. He turned around and he saw a feat, that couldn't have been done by the same person. His eyes widened and he started to feel dizzy. The man was holding something. Some talismanic object that repelled the tube-like vehicle and the city below them glowed with sinister red colors of lights. Almost everything went red now, like buildings when an alarm broke out. More tube-like vehicles charged towards them like a gunslinger and a horse in a Wild West movie. The man swung it in all directions and it did have some effect on the vehicles. It sent a vehicle plummeting downwards with a crashing speed, that he thought that it would crash near the building . The buildings turned on the sinister red glow as well. The whole city was painted in red now. The tube-like vehicles followed them as his head dangled like a bobblehead. They neared the wall with neon lights. The wall, where the exit lay. He swam, with all his energy with his companion to that wall. He swam to the the hole ,the exit. A wave here, a wave there and he was out of the city. Where the people wouldn't dare to come near. His friend was out too. He turned back and a huge white light flashed, ready to temporarily blind him. It was not the lights of danger in the underwater city but the light of hope. The light of a submarine. With that he picked up the rock. For some reason, he wanted to shield the city from the dangers of the outside force. He didn't want their efforts to go to waste. Enemy or not .With the last bit of adrenaline kicking him, he closed the hole with the rock, keeping it enclosed until it was found again.


We see a figure slumped at his desk in a rundown house on the west side of Columbus. We shall call him Clem. The room reeks of last night's stale smoke and spilled beer. Clem's ragged snores cut through the air. A black dog stares at him with an air of judgement. As he starts himself awake, his flailing arm scatters a forest of empty Miller High Life cans. He looks around the room blearily, wiping away drool and attempting to clear the crust from around his eye. How late was I up? he ponders as he straightens his glasses. His head is pounding, and his throat is parched, prompting him to seek his glass of water. "Hey buddy, you need to go out?" he asks the dog in a raspy voice. He follows the dog (who we can call Eddie) down a steep flight of stairs. He opens the door for Eddie to do his business and lights a cigarette. At least I finished that damn paper last night, he attempts to console himself, now let's see if there's any way for me to not fail this class. " Let's go buddy!" Eddie scrambles inside, looking at Clem expectantly. "Sorry Ed, here's your breakfast," he says, pouring a scoop of kibble into his bowl. Clem headed back upstairs to his room. Taking a seat at his desk, he tapped the space key on his laptop to wake it. As he took a seat, Eddie climbed onto his bed, which was a queen mattress laying directly on the ground. He logged on, then signed back into his school account. As his computer worked to pull up the requested information, he finally noticed the time. Shit, it's already after 10? Dammit, I have to work in less than an hour. How am I supposed to study for that test now? I work doubles today and tomorrow, you were supposed to be up at a reasonable time so that you could work on that now, dumbass. He shook his head as he navigated the student website to check his grades. The grade for his writing class looked good. He had barely beat the submission deadline the night before, but he felt good about it. The remains of his system of balancing his mind for writing still lay strewn about his desk. Empty beer cans, an ashtray full of cigarette butts, an empty marijuana pipe, and a half-full coffee cup (Sometimes the coffee also contained whiskey, depending on what kind of a day it was). The four essential humors for coaxing the mind into an appropriate state for writing. Works every time he thought to himself. He clicked over to his physics class website with a minor sense of foreboding. Let's get this over with Clem thought, just a bit sourly. What do I need to score on this final? It took him a moment to process, but as he looked at his grades, a pit began to form in his stomach. There's no way it should be that low... he began to panic as he looked at the abysmal numbers staring him in the face. Wait, that shouldn't be a 0, what happened? An extra credit assignment he had submitted the week before was still marked as a 0. There's no way I can pass without that he thought, his mind racing why don't I have these point yet? I would need an 80 percent to pass even WITH that extra credit, there's no way I pass without it. At this point I might as well not even bother studying, there's no possible way... He franticly searched for the TA's email address. There has to be a mistake, please let there be a mistake. He typed furiously, having to retype words multiple times before getting them correct. In less than a minute, he sent the email. Gotta get ready for work. In his haste to get ready for work and get out the door, he forgot to check his email. It was a hectic day at work, so he didn't have time to look at his email until afterwork. Which he then forgot to do when his coworkers convinced him to come out for drinks to relieve the stress of the long night at work. He forgot again when he woke up late for work the next morning. He failed to check when he went to watch football with his coworkers that night as well. Not until he got home Sunday night, when horror finally punched through his exhaustion. Shit, I need to check on that! He pulled up his email account on his phone with a slight sense of dread. The response had been fairly prompt, arriving about the time he had made it to work the day before. He had forgotten to press submit. If he had checked his email that day, the TA had told him that he had until the end of the weekend to resubmit the assignment for no penalty. That deadline had passed 10 minutes prior. Seriously? You idiot, how did you not check your email? You do this to yourself every damn time... Well, at least I didn't study for nothing then he tried to justify to himself. Looks like we've wasted another semester. Dejected, he laid down to sleep wondering if it was even worth showing up for the exam the next day. Probably not.... That night, Clem had restless dreams. He dreamed he was walking through an office building. No matter how doors he opened or rooms he traversed, he could not seem to find his way out. He travelled through hallways and conference rooms and stairwells. Once, when he thought he was finally about to escape, he found himself right back where he started. Then the office turned into his high school building. Still, the rooms came without end. Then the room turned into a giant hamster wheel where no matter how fast he ran, he could never escape. He awoke in a cold sweat.  So it went and so it goes. On and on, without end.


No matter where I step foot in this town my face is recognizable. I'm the one they say that's riddled with guilt.

It's always the same cliche, if only they were there, they'd known what'd happened. Even their accusatory eyes, scorning me, judging me, giving the once over. For my sanity, I have to have thick skin, which is hard going as the mental affliction they inflict is slowly taking its toll. It's even gotten to the point that when I see people talk, I have misconceptions that it's me they're conversing about. That poor girl has gone missing, he must have killed her and dumped the body somewhere. I surmise, as I try to read their lips.

I feel it's time for me to leave this place and start anew, but all I'll do is leave the guilt behind. Jesus Christ, I'm starting to convince myself that I am guilty. I'm not, and people need to know that. “Hey Joey,” this guy bellows over to me. “How can you show your face around here, the law might think you’re innocent but we know what ya did.”

I want to confront him, but I knew it’d lead to violence. I’ve not known anything other than violence, It’d started at school, those lads pushing me about making all the other kids laugh at me, seeing me as a pathetic weakling. I couldn’t take anymore, so I’d done what my father had said. Son, stand up to them, confront each bully alone and then you’ll see who the real weaklings are. And that’s what I had done. And I never had anymore trouble from those lads again.

“Why don’t you tell the police where you’ve put the body. Did you do inhumane things too here?”

They even saw silence as a form of guilt. I’d bitten my tongue enough times before. I stepped into the road and made my way towards him.

“Hey,” I said from the top of my lungs. “Tuppence was the love of my life, you know like everyone else Mike that I would never harm her.”

“The circumstances around her disappearance are all too strange, it was just the both of you together when it happened. So come on man, what did you do to my sister?”

I had no answer, the mystery was just as mysterious. I wanted to know what had happened to my sweet Tuppence. “Look Mike I’ve never lied to you, it’s been nothing but the truth. One minute Tuppence was there, I’d left her for a short while — a couple of minutes max — and then when I returned, she was nowhere to be seen.”

“The whole family doesn't believe you, even the whole town disbelieves you. It was just you and her and nobody else for miles, so you can see why we’re struggling here.”

I just stared at my brother-in-law for a split second and then walked away. In his eyes, in the eyes of Tuppence’s family and the whole town, I was guilty. And I had to leave. But I wanted to try one more time, to explain, to bring peace and understanding.

This is the most daunting experience, as I’m with Tuppence’s family. My attempts to engage with them are proving difficult as all I can see is raging eyes. “Please believe me when I say that me and Tuppence went into the countryside for a picnic. We were happy she did nothing but smile as we’d laughed and joked. She kept telling me how the river was beautiful and that she wanted to swim in it. We found a safe place to get in where the reeds wouldn’t wrap around our feet and drag us down to the river bed. Tuppence went into the river while I double checked that the car was locked but, when I went to join her she was nowhere to be seen. I did not drown Tuppence in the river.” The police underwater search unit had not found her. I was questioned by the police and then released. But her family thought otherwise. No I had not buried the body nor had I let the currents take her down the river to be lost forever. So I had to leave. * It’s peaceful here in the new town, I’m the stranger in the vicinity but the people here are welcoming. Friends are far and few between, there’s no love in my life, I’m not saying there never will be, I just don’t know yet. Tuppence is forever in my heart and I’m sure I am in hers, wherever she may be. I don’t want to say she’s dead but, I can’t think of it in any other way, somehow the river must have taken her. Or did she allow the river to take her? I will never know that, and that will always haunt me. Even the fact that am I guilty for not seeing that perhaps she wasn’t happy in life?

Today would have been our third anniversary, instead of me here alone I should be in her company, I still want her company but all I experience is the thoughts that I tried to leave behind but they still plague me, torment me. This misconception of guilt has bonded itself to me, there’s no escape here for me. It is like I am imprisoned for a wrong doing that I’m branded for doing. If only Tuppence’s mystery could show, so this nightmare could go, then I shall live in peace. I suddenly snapped out of my reverie by the soft kind voice of a waitress as I sat comfortably at a table in the coffee shop. “Was it a flat white or latte sir?” Said the waitress. “I’ll have a flat white and the cooked breakfast please,” I replied. This is my fourth time in this coffee shop, the staff are kind and the coffee is good and for the food, sublime. But the enjoyment of the coffee and food doesn’t end there for me, today I have company joining me for breakfast.

I hope she will be the turning point in my life, where the past can be left behind. I watch another waitress bring my coffee to the table, she smiles and sits beside me. "I've clocked off now, I thought you'd never come, Joey. Does all my horrible, controlling family believe I'm dead?" "Yes Tuppence, we can start a fresh new life together where no one disapproves of us."


                                                                 The Wedding the Icon and Me                                                                                Suzanne Marsh

               There it stood in all its resplendent glory, Saint Nicholas Ukrainian Catholic Church, Buffalo, New York. I had never even heard of a Ukrainian Catholic Church, much less been in one. I was there for the wedding rehearsal. My best friend Judy was getting married. I marveled at the small brick church, and wondered what it looked like inside. I had followed Judy and Joe over there. I was fascinated by the spires of the church they were round. I walked in: it was nothing like any church I had ever set foot in. I was overwhelmed by the simple beauty of the pictures that were painted on the walls. I had no idea they were holy icons until…                The priest entered dressed in a long black cassock. His hair was slightly long, his beard black with silver streaks. He began giving instructions to various members of the wedding party. He sent Judy, myself, Peg, Diana, Ulana and Martha, and Kimberly, the flower girl. to the back where the professional would begin. The bridesmaids went first, then I followed, finally Judy and her father. The organist played traditional wedding music. The priest went through the motions of everything that would take place the next day. I could not take my eyes off of the beautiful pictures on the wall. I poked Diana, who had the misfortune to be next to me. I asked about the pictures on the wall. She whispered softly that those were Icons. The priest gave us both a withering glare. Diana smiled and I thought to myself: ‘I sure hope his disposition improves before the wedding tomorrow.’                The priest then proceeded to go on with his instructions. All I wanted to do was go home, take a hot shower and get ready for the next day’s events. It had been a long day. Kimberly was not thrilled with her part in the wedding, she was four at the time. She was to carry an embroidered Ukrainian pillow, with two wreathes on it.

               When it was time for us to leave the rehearsal, Mike gave me his elbow and we began to walk. Suddenly, the priest’s voice rang out yelling in Ukrainian. Mike and I stopped dead in our tracks. I had no idea what we had done, but I was certain we were about to find out. We had forgotten to kiss the Icon of the virgin and child. Now I was really confused. I a was practicing Catholic, we never did things like that in our church. Mike and I turned around Joe’s sisters were giggling as we began the walk out once more. Once outside, I asked Mike what was with the Icon? He began to explain when Diana, strode over to tell us the priest decided we needed to rehearse the entire wedding over again to be sure there were no hitches tomorrow.                The morning of the wedding dawned sunny. I had to have my hair done at the beauty parlor. My mom did Kimberly’s in long curls. I rushed backed, grabbed Kimberly, and the dresses. Judy had made Kimberly’s dress to match mine. They were yellow lace with taffeta and green bows. The night before we had decorated the wedding car with a heart and Judy and Joe’ s initials inside of it, that was after we arrived back at the house. Martha and I had been making Kleenex flowers for almost two weeks but the design was lovely.                We were all nervous and giddy. I got Kimberly dressed, then I got myself dressed, no easy accomplishment. Now all we had to do was wait for the professional. Kimberly took one look inside the church, with all people filling it up and began to scream for her grandpa. This did not bode well, so I found dad. He came back to the dressing area, quieted Kimberly down. Judy wanted to be sure she would walk down the aisle. My dad assured her Kimberly would be fine once the actual wedding began. Dad returned to his seat.

               Finally, the processional music began the strains of the Wedding March. Martha was first, then Peg, Ulana and Diana. I went down the aisle. Kimberly with the pillow balanced rather precariously in her hands began to march down the aisle. Midway down, she saw dad, my stomach lurched as the pillow did. All I saw was dad’s hand pushing the pillow back up into Kimberly’s little hands. Then she started to cry. “Oh Lord I thought, please don’t let her scream.” Judy, looked beautiful on the arm of her father. They walked down the aisle, he lifted her vail and gave her away to Joe. The wedding mass was partly in Ukrainian and English. Toward the end of the actual marriage vows, I handed Judy the wreathes. Kimberly made a beeline for my dad, who once again convinced her she needed to stay in the pew. ‘Would this ever end?’ I asked myself. They exchanged rings. Finally, we all rose as the priest introduced the newly married couple, in both languages.                The recessional began, Judy and Joe went first, then Mike and I. Twice that morning Diana and Ulana both reminded me not to forget to kiss the Icon. I was not about to forget that piece of information. However, as a special reminder, as I stood up, Mike with his extend elbow, and in a chorused whisper: “DON’T FORGET TO KISS THE ICON”. Mike did a weird little step and we both turned to kiss the Icon. At that point I wanted to ask him why he almost forgot again since he had been raised in the that church along with Joe. I kept my cool and said nothing.

               I don’t think I will ever forget the wedding. The uniqueness of the Ukrainian church. I still marvel at the extraordinary beauty of the ceremony and the church itself. Over the years, I have treasured the differences of cultures. I decided before writing this story, I would learn more about the Icons. Icons are identified as a resemblance to Christ, the virgin Mary and the saints. Judy and Joe have been married over forty years. Diana, passed away from cancer. She is sorely missed.