The power was all in her words, all in her mind, all in her vision . She was from the 2nd Universe , an original Seraphim Angel. She had been born from original source light, and for limitless time / space she had danced in the sky as a golden star , just being , shining and radiating. Her consciousness had grown over time , and her radiating soul frequency had alchemised her essence into an original Seraphim Angel She had been specially selected by divine source to guard and serve and love the humans on earth, as he could sense a rare empathy, compassion and vulnerabilities which were very rare in the Seraphim, who had witnessed plenty of human suffering from  above, but knew nothing but love and light themselves. Of course their job was to help humans which they relished, but nevertheless there was a certain loving detachment there , knowing the drop in the ocean which was one human life. She had guarded human souls for eons of time from there, had intervened and helped , and thought that she knew everything about human suffering , love, joy and everything in between. She longed to experience the pleasure and pain herself , while also guarding and helping humans at the same time, as she had been trained too. She was so excited to descend and ground ,and be an angelic human . Even Angel's can become tired of spiralling between galaxies, lifes , planets , multidimensional aspects, and parralel realities. Her soul knew she was limitless, a warrior , a guardian angel ,here on the earth plane . To serve, to guide and to transmute , but also to experience all shades of human life. Her higher self was immense , her power was limitless , her light was from the grand central sun; out of this world, out of this universe. Her power was in her eyes , and her soul, and her mind . She was attacked since birth for it,  but for the first ten years she could still feel her soul, her light and her power. She could still talk to unicorns and fairy's and the divine. So when the attacks came, both from humans, and dark souls she could rise back into the sun each day, and put the shadows behind her, into a box like black butterfly's. They would flap a bit and try and get our during the day ; but would surrender to be free at night. And so it went on.... until she turned 11 and started high school. The fairy's stopped coming, and when she tried to reach the divine at night the entity's would trick her, terrify her back into her body, so she numbed out, and became encased in darkness and fear. Her power was drained every day, she no longer knew who she was, she could not see any sun, never mind the grand central one . Everybody could sense her difference, her otherwordlyness, and her unusual appearance with light blue eyes , and golden hair brought out verbal taunts, similar to the days of the witch trials. The words freak and hideous became part of her talk to self. She no longer had glimpses of her inner angel, and forgot what light looked like, both inside and out. After she left school she started to run, both externally and internally . Everything triggered her , and her internal voice always told her she was stupid , ugly and her life was ruined . And so it became so. She was only attracted to dark things, cruel things , people and situations. Anything and everything that could drain and take every bit of her power. Being an angelic , now forgotten to herself, she had limitless power to be feasted on. So she surrendered her power to the darkest of souls, both within people and in the spirit world. There was always more of her power to take, as she was a limitless light. A light she could not turn on for herself, a light she had forgotten a long time ago. She was so bright she could not see herself, she became the darkness that she so attracted in other. Lile other humans, she became the patterns, the voices; the dysfunction and the disappointment. She was aware as a human that her life was particularly tragic. That any time she had a glimpse of happiness, it was very brief . It wasnt her being dramatic , or negative, it was the prison planet she was trapped in as a Seraphim Angelic... not of this world, but yet cruelly tortured by this world. Yet the light she didnt remember still kept her going, she had moments of optimism, and sometimes a feeling that she remembered who she was. She travelled, she travelled to the other hemisphere and met who she thought was a great love, and bore two exquisite children to this dark force, the final seal in her suffering as a human. Throughout it all, her angelic aspect still guarded many, saved many lifes , although her human aspect split of, and forgot. And noone could help and save her. She loved her baby angels so fiercely, but when the hits and insults and cheating kept coming, the trauma on her angelic soul became etched into her energetic frequency. She ran from him, hoping she could make it ,hoping she could make a new start with her beautiful daughters. The attacks kept coming though inside and out , although the angelic she had now forgotten fought , fought like the brave warrior she was . She begged so many times to be taken back, though it had been long ago since she remembered her soul origins. Her own birth family across the other side of the world , who had delighted in taking her power too , eventually disowned her, and her days were desperate and cruel fighting for her and her children, who also took her power. She went back to her origins one day slumped on the grass outside her small room, the light blinded her as she was taken home, to delight in her soul frequency and spread her wings untethered once more.


             Could it be sealed as a stigma of indolence and lethargy that Prof. Vijay Kumar lost or suffered a gross failure during the years between 1972 to 1981 when almost ten resolutions were Made probably without strong will power without actual realization. The truth is that a resolution Had not been made in the true sense of the word. For ten years I did nothing at all. I had become a person without even a dot of confidence. “ I cannot get a GUIDE. There is none in this world to help me. Does My Lord Krishna wants me to beg like a beggar to go and click the door-bell of every PhD. Should I Seek the grace of some kind professor at Agra or Meerut at this moment of life. It was now 1982 mid July 1968-69. I had by this time become a father of a daughter who was just two years old. Leaving my wife and daughter by themselves and travelled long many hours to meet Dr R.D. Sholic of Agra College whose Lectures I had attended earlier as a student. He accepted me after asking me about my management Between Bhavnagar and Agra. He assigned to me four prominent American writers of nineteenth century from its’ literature . He also suggested to borrow books from the University library. I did lot  Of reading for exactly a year and half and as directed by my guide I made a list of eight topics for onward studies of Ph.D.                                    My destiny was firmly determined to block my further advancement in this erudite Pursuit. Dr Sholic had left Agra three months back and had left no message to be conveyed to me. He Hadn’t made any arrangement to bring me into contact with of some of his friends, who were also guides for this degree. He presented himself as the most careless person that could ever be. …………………………………………………………………………………………………..... 1970 or 1971 became the years of doing all the other things except working for a doctorate degree and It ended not till 1981. This was the part of my life that broke me down. Dr Sholic had broken my heart And for the first time I came to know what disappointment and depression could possibly be. I felt a Total loss of smooth life!. My scholarly tastes remained starved and I held monologues with Lord God during the silent hours of nights, feeling intensely shocked: “Oh my dear Krishne why did I spend Two years to study those American Poets and not attain consummation. Why Dr R.B. Sholick desert me And left me a destitute? Is this going to be my destiny? I work hard but dame luck all the time kicks hard on my buttocks! …………………………………………………………………………………………………… 1981“What’s this Vijay with you going on? “ I do not know what you mean! “Haven’t you become a lazy dog? Years of this precious life……( a pause) Dr J.J.T. was seriously concerned about Vijay’s professional career. In his high tone of irritation loudly shouted:” You have become a lazy and indolent man and I cannot bear lethargy from my dearest friend. Have you forgotten? That you had to study and had to work hard for nothing! “But what I could do? I was deserted by Dr Sholick, you know.. “Do you believe that some guide would have come travelling all the way to Bhavnagar and tell you, “Come on Vijay I will be your Guide come dear my Honourable  Sir!  A silence indifference crept in and we both were looking into each other, staring, knowing not what to say. “What the hell I should do? “ I looked at him with a sad face! “Make a firm resolution to do this Ph.D. Degree and rush to Agra and meet people there. Go and meet the Registrar or the present Head of English Dept. there. Go and ransack all avenues there. Even some Peon might turn to be helpful to get what you intend. ‘” Yes that’s done.. I must get a Ph.D. Degree at any cost. I promise you, dear friend. You have infused my confidence that I had lost. I must banish all negative thoughts. It has no place for survival. ‘’ ………………………………………………………………………………………………………mid 1981 J.J.T.

Came to see me off at the Railway Station .Wish you best of luck friend. Don’t come back till you get a guide. Let me know the situation as and when it develops. Write back a post-card to let me know the developments. As I boarded the train I occupied my seat and made a midyear resolution there itself. I must have a Ph.D. Guide I lighted incense sticks whenever I leave for another city. I closed my eyes for three minutes.                                I made a short sojourn of most of the colleges and I went to see one very senior professor who had a bungalow in Professor’s society. Nothing appeared, no consequences, empty Seemed the walls of Agra and I perspired almost four days. Thereafter it struck into my mind that  Visit the office of the University. I got the files of those professors who had done and got the degree. The Registrar himself came to me and informed me that there is one Dr Virendra Sharma of D.C. College And is shortly on the verge of retiring.. You’d better go to him and meet him at his residence close to the Railway Station.  It was easy for me to locate his bungalow. No sooner I saw his face my inner heart sprang into happiness. I intuitively felt that this Dr Virendra Sharma was surely going to accept me.                                 Next day morning I took one kg box of choicest sweets from the well-known and famous ‘Krishna Sweet Shop and Restaurant ‘ and took it to the house of my guide ‘ Ms Sharma objected and I said ‘ Its’ welcoming the beginning of a student with his new teacher. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………                         I began receiving several post cards and inland letters and it was like the modern “Teaching on Line ‘” Thus reading, writing and guiding all sorts of studies went on. He told me that Once every year you would stay here and work for two months every year here only and see me every day. I stayed In some hotel and guest house. In morning I had to meet my guide and during afternoons I visited the library of Aligarh Muslim University. All the libraries of Delhi University, British Council and Agra too had been visited to spend several hours with also gathering necessary notes.                                        I stayed full one month in the Agra University Library and I had been going through PhD. scripts that had been awarded. Every day after breakfast in the morning and also in The afternoon I was there. One fellow by name Satish Bansal came to me with limitless curiosity. He wanted to know my purpose of that reading. He invited me for tea and some social interaction is quite well Come, “  Look here Vijay Kumar, why are you rotting yourself here.Why do you make your wife Suffer who might need to fulfill her sexual urge. Go back enjoy sleeping in bed with her.” 1984 was over “What for I am here for? I am a professional thesis writer and all that you have to do is paying me eleven thousand rupees and the thesis and synopsis everything would be ready Come back to see me after one year.”           “  So that is why you invited me for tea and snacks four times.. Is that so?      ‘” Yes that is the way of the world. Money makes impossible possible and I can get you a girl in bed if you just pay one hundred bucks.    “Look stop your nonsense .Will you?  ‘” You get lost right now and hear my decision. I am the last person to get a borrowed PhD. I won’t learn anything. I will write my thesis with my own mind each word of my thesis. And look here I will prefer to be without the degree rather than becoming a robber of intellectual work. 1984 October ……………………………………………………………………………………………………… 1985 MID June:  My second son   Susheel Kumar fell ill seriously.  He got touched by a live wire that had fallen because of lashing winds and storms. He was immediately rushed to the biggest hospital of the government.                                  However my bad luck had decided to never leave me alone. My thesis work was left pending for six months and by then 1985 too ran away just very fast. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………… It was again the year of 1986 and I stayed in some hotel. Now there is no need to go o coming to me. His final lecture had gone on the whole afternoon almost two hours. My brother-in-law Mr Krishen Lal And his wife Shakuntala took me forcibly to Sikandrabad and made me stay in their bungalow, In the total privacy of one large room with all the amenities there, I could complete the final thesis in one hundred days. For four days they had gone to Delhi and again a stroke of my bad luck never left me Alone. Very soon after the thesis had to be submitted along with a ‘Forward Letter’ Surendra Verma Was quite hesitant to send a forward letter and Sushma his wife intervened. “Now send his Forwarding Letter , don’t delay the matter. The poor boy had been running all over, Bhavnagar, thereafter Aligarh, Agra. He went for consulting books in almost five libraries. His wife and children have been waiting all these years.                     But now luck came in flying after me and by next three months the Degree was awarded. The age of a person has no connection with making a firm resolution. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………… The end of 1986 SOME REACTIONS: Dr M. F,. Salat is my bosom friend today as well. When I met him at his residence he closely folded my hands into his own and said: “Oh my Lord Dr Vijay Kumar you have achieved a tremendous success. Getting a degree as the one like a doctorate  Degree at the age when one is forty-nine. None of the professors can even imagine doing such a remarkable achievement. You are great really Vijay the successful man. You have established an Outstanding  example. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………… Those people who had borrowed forty books and twenty note scripts to get their post graduation degree turned their heads in some other direction and could not even say ‘Hello Dr Vijay Kumar, Congratulations. They just remained cold and indifferent .These so called professors were really great with, feelings of insult to themselves. How could they utter a few words of appreciation for me?                                The element of Segregation planted  in their mind was really deep. How could They cast off the golden chain that they were regularly wearing in their necks?


There were very few jobs in Lindow, so no-one was picky about what jobs were available. You didn’t complain, you didn’t ask questions and you didn’t look too closely at the things that didn’t make sense. So when I found myself in a darkened factory, snowed in thanks to an unpredicted blizzard I resolved myself to be patient and wait until I was rescued. The factory was on the outskirts of Lindow and canned a variety of different vegetables and fruits from nearby towns.

During the day it was a hive of activity with people bustling around almost constantly. At night there was a schedule of security guards, like yours truly. Normally I would have at least my coworkers to help me while away the hours but they hadn’t been able to reach the factory before the storm hit. So it was me, alone, in a dark empty factory with no other companion than my flashlight and an old paperback novel, The Eleven Million Mile High Dancer by Carol Hill. There were a great many old paperback novels stockpiled in one of the unused rooms. I had discovered this room on my first day at the factory before I was told that exploring was dangerous for my health. I started whistling to myself to break the deep silence. It didn’t help, the strange echoing made me feel like I was surrounded by something. Instead, I decided to start my rounds and explore more of the factory. My place of work was arranged as a large imposing cube with each of the four sides focused on a different kind of canning.

In the very centre sat the administrative buildings, the offices of the upper management as well as storage and utility rooms. It was in this area which I found the mysterious room of science fiction paperbacks. According to the regulations of my position I made my way around the outside of the factory, slowly working my way in towards the centre. Some ‘fun facts’ as I go. The factory was built late last century by the richest family in town the Kirwin’s. They were not natives of the area, but they moved across from the old country with mysterious pasts and more mysterious wealth. Previously, the main industry of the area was slate mining before the industry lost its shine. They were met with suspicion and glee, as they rejuvenated the area and brought in much-needed money so people didn’t ask questions and those who did were shunned.

So when some people disappeared and others were struck by a sudden and unexplained illness no questions were asked. It became something of a tradition to not ask questions but curiosity is a powerful thing, one which I am not immune to. This could be my only opportunity to have my questions answered, and I couldn’t let it pass me by.

Completely alone and utterly bored I could think of no reason not to explore more of the hidden rooms. The power, and therefore the alarms were off, and there was minimal risk for me. The first room sat down the hallway from the manager’s office, it was locked but something of a misspent youth ensured that that wasn’t much of a barrier. At this point, you must be certain that there was something truly gruesome within this room, a collection of preserved human body parts or a collection of unique and disturbing sex toys. However, it wasn’t nearly as exciting as all that. It was, in fact, filled top to bottom in random order loose balls of all kinds. Baseballs, basketballs, golf balls, and several which I didn’t recognise. It was something of an anti-climax, to be honest. It felt like working yourself up for a trip to a theme park or a surprise birthday party, and how those imagined experiences never meet up with reality.

I kept making my way through the rooms, and in each room, I discovered the following: a collection of historically accurate (but ill-kempt) medieval armour, pressed flowers and pinned insects, stacked blankets and other haberdashery, and lastly the aforementioned science fiction paperbacks. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to these collections. It felt like someone was writing words on a dartboard and them collecting these items based on what words the darts hit.

It felt like they gathered these items at random, I had no answers simply more questions. There was one last opportunity to have these questions answers. It took me some time before I figured out how to reach the central room. As per city ordinances, the head office of any company can only be accessed through a series of complicated animal-themed puzzle doors and at least one secret passage.

As a security guard, I was trained to navigate these barriers in case of emergencies. It was a simple but lengthy matter of collecting different keys representing birds of prey and slotting them in the doors in the correct order. The corridor hidden behind a bookshelf was poorly lit, I made a mental note that that was in contravention of current OHS regulations. Then I disregarded that thought as I wasn’t allowed to be here in any case. Almost as if it was summoned, I heard a distant crack of thunder outside. This town was many things, but to its credit, it was almost always thematically accurate. The pointlessness of this exercise had not escaped me and I wondered why I was making such an effort to assuage my curiosity.

Boredom and opportunity I suppose. I could see the central office up ahead, finally, all my questions would be answered. Not just about the strange rooms filled with seemingly random items. But the deeper questions of who the Kirwin family really were, what was happening to my town, the answers to life the universe and everything.

I pushed my way through the heavy wooden doors and discovered the deep, dark secret. A handsome and well-groomed dog pressing buttons and carefully watching monitors. Huh, I didn’t expect that…


Three’s a Crowd By: Jessica B. Taylor ~ Joy ~ The tension was thick. The old expression, ‘you could cut it with a knife’ applied.            An icy silence filled the space between us while the raucous, loud music and frivolity took up the rest of the space around us.            The place was packed…the band was playing one of my favourite rock anthems, and I sat frozen in my chair.            “Do you want to dance”? he spoke the words carefully.            I averted his eyes and declined his request.            “What’s wrong”? he asked.            “Nothing”. I lied.            I looked around the room, trying any possible way to get myself back to the present moment, and away from my inner turmoil.            It had happened much the same as it always did.            We were out walking, having a great time, enjoying another sunny, warm day in Paradise.            “Do you want to stop in at ‘Frankie’s’ and have a drink?”            Frankie’s was a fun bar a grill, with live music and great food. The vibe was carefree, and the owners knew everybody’s name. They greeted their guests, whether new or old, with a big smile and a kiss on the cheek.            “Ok, yeah. Let’s go” I was in a mood to have some fun.            As we approached the building, I could hear the thumping of the music, and knew it was probably packed inside the small, open-air tavern.            We exchanged greetings with the smokers standing by the entrance and were greeted by ‘Maria’ the barmaid shortly after stepping inside. “Ola! What ken I getchya” she smiled her recognition of us.            We each ordered a beer as we looked around for an open chair or table.            “There’s two over there”, he pointed out two bar chairs against the wall.            I spied the chairs and agreed they looked to be available, so we made our way over there, passing the dance floor to our left…and then I noticed her.            She was sitting on the stool beside the unoccupied chairs. She was wearing a black, spaghetti strap sundress, and her ample breasts were protruding from the low-plunging neckline. Her blonde hair was cascading around her shoulders, and she looked to be alone. She had a pretty face with blue eyes, and her skin was perfectly bronzed. ‘A fucking Barbie doll’ I thought to myself.            My steps became shaky as we approached the open chairs.            “Are these seats taken?” he asked her.            “No Sirrr! They’re all yours…” Her words were a bit slurred as she leaned back in her chair to give us both a full-frontal view.            We took our seats. I of course selected the seat beside ‘Barbie’ to put some distance between them.            “Hiiii….I’m Stacey” she leaned over to me and extended her hand.            I extended my hand to meet her, “I’m Joy…and this is Frank…” I turned to acknowledge him…and he turned to acknowledge the introduction.            “Wellll, hulllloooo there” she dropped my hand to reach for his.            “I luuuuuv your hat” she extended a compliment to Frank as she leaned toward him giving him a great view of her cleavage.            I sat upright in my chair, wishing I would’ve worn a dress instead of my mustard-coloured tank top and overly worn jean shorts. Stacey was wearing cool, strappy sandals and I had worn my flip flops.            The barmaid found us in our new location and brought us our beer. Frank asked her to bring another round when she got a chance, and looked over at Stacey to ask if she would like a drink.            “Tequila!” she accepted his offer with gusto.            “A round of tequila then” he placed the extra order with the barmaid.            I feigned a smile as I took a large gulp of my Corona with lime.            My body swayed to the music even though my mind was no longer present. It had already gone into ‘freeze’ mode…as the other options, ‘fight’ or ‘flight’ did not seem to be available.            My body felt trapped. My breath was shallow. I did not know whether I could contain the ball spinning uncontrollably in my stomach without heaving. My chest felt tight, and I thought for sure anyone who looked would see my heart thumping outside of my chest.            Frank and I had only been dating a short time. He had invited me to Mexico, a place he loved on the Pacific side of the country. I still couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have met him. How generous he was to have taken me on an all-expense paid trip, no strings attached. We had hit it off from the moment we met, talking into the wee hours of the morning. Waiting to have sex until the time was right and BOY, was it right when it was right! He was a generous lover too.            As the icy silence continued to creep over my entire being…the familiar feeling of dread washed over me…            “Do you like the band?” Frank looked at my now vacant eyes.            “Yes” I gave a curt reply.            “What’s wrong, honey?” I knew he was trying to get me to look at him.            “Nothing” my voice pitch was now an octave or two or higher than normal.            “Do you want to leave?” he asked courteously.            Everything in me wanted to say ‘yes’…            “No. Do you?” I turned the question on him.            “Well, no…but you don’t seem to be having a good time” he was looking at me with concern.            The barmaid brought us our round of drinks and we clinked our shot glasses with Stacey, before downing the Tequila contained in them.            “So, do you come here often?” I turned away from Frank to Stacey… ~ Stacey ~            Stacey had woken up feeling groggy from the night before. She had stayed out late with a couple of people she had met at a beach-front bar.            ‘Why did I even come on this trip?’ she thought to herself as she gazed in the mirror, fighting back the tears she refused to allow since she arrived in Mexico, alone.            The trip was planned months ago when she was still…when she was still with…She felt her chest heave and then it started…the waterfall of emotion she had been trying to contain.            Tears streamed down her face as black streaks covered her face from her mascara from the night before. She leaned over to catch her breath and her knees gave out as she fell to the floor, lying on her side, hugging her legs in a fetal position, rocking herself like a mother would comfort her newborn baby.            She couldn’t contain her wails of despair. She didn’t know how much time had passed when she found herself in a muddled mess on the floor with her tear-sopped blonde hair stuck to the side of her face.            She stood up shakily and gripped the vanity to steady herself. She turned the water faucet to full speed and splashed her face with cold water…again and again and again trying to wake up from the nightmare she found herself in.            This would be her last night in Mexico. The vacation getaway that was planned with…with…This time she bit back the new cascade of tears waiting to descend from her Ocean-blue eyes.            She decided she would go to ‘Frankie’s’. The friends she met last night said they were going there and invited her to meet up with them. At least she wouldn’t have to be alone.            The place was packed when she arrived, and she scoped out one single seat along the wall. She looked to see if she recognized anybody in the crowd, but they weren’t there. Shortly after sitting down, the two people beside her got up and left. She ordered a shot of Tequila, then another, then another…as she swayed to the music.            She began to feel self-conscious as she adjusted the straps on her black sundress, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the very revealing neckline…but she had bought it for…for…She couldn’t think about that now.            She always admired women who looked so trim and put together with small, perky breasts. Hers were large and could only be covered up with bulky sweatshirts or oversized t-shirts. She didn’t like to flaunt her breasts.            About an hour after she arrived, the two chairs beside her remained vacant. Then, she looked up and saw them approaching. A man and woman – a very attractive man and woman. The woman looked so carefree and put together with her fitted tank top and jean shorts. She had beautiful, dark brown hair that flowed down to her perfectly sized breasts.            Stacey wondered if they were a couple or just friends…She could only hope… ~ Frank ~            Frank loved the Ocean air, and he loved being in Mexico with the love of his life. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He had only met Joy a month before, and she was exactly what he had dreamed about.            His chest stuck out a little further when they’d walk down the Malecon together. He saw the gazes she got from other men. The approving nods men gave him as they strolled along.            She was funny and smart…and drop-dead gorgeous!            He wasn’t sure how the trip would go when he suggested it to her. But here they were in Mexico together, and it had been GREAT…except for…well, except for that night at the Italian place. He couldn’t figure out what had happened. They were having fun, and then she went cold. He didn’t know what was bothering her, and when he asked her, she just seemed to get more annoyed with him.            And now, it was happening again as they sat at ‘Frankie’s’. He thought they had been having a great day when he suggested they stop for a drink. Then, BOOM, they sat down, and she went cold. Her pretty face now looked sullen and edgy.            He looked across the room and noticed a younger man standing at the bar facing them. He wore a tight-fitting muscle shirt and faded jeans. His arms were well-defined, and his dark, curly hair brushed the top of his muscular, bronzed shoulders.            Frank had just turned sixty-two. He had shaved what little hair remained on his now bald head. His beer-belly protruded under his button-down shirt and the grey hairs on his chest curled up over the open buttons at the top. His skin was not as taught as it once was. He was getting old.            ‘Was she disappointed to be there with him?’, Frank thought to himself. ‘Did she wish she was with a younger man?’            Maybe the girl beside her would cheer her up. Stacey seemed to be having a good time… ~ Stacey ~            The man and woman sat beside me, and he generously offered to buy me a drink. I suggested Tequila and when the barmaid brought them, we shared a festive ‘cheers’ and downed them.            I noticed they weren’t talking to each other much. I wondered again if they were a couple or just friends on a trip to Mexico together.

Then she turned to look at me. Man, she was beautiful, just like…just like…No, now was not the time to think about Giselle. She was no longer my girlfriend.            “So, do you come here often”? the woman seemed a bit nervous as she asked me the question and I noticed she seemed to be a bit preoccupied with my chest.            I looked over at Frank who also seemed to be preoccupied, looking over at a young guy across the room. I then leaned in a little closer to Joy as I was pretty sure it was safe to get to know her a little better.


Mark’s Drawing                                                                                Sam W. Joseph                                                            March 10, 2022 The old man sat in his rocking chair staring at the television set, but not seeing it. He was unaware of the story being portrayed, as his mind was on other things. He noticed that happening more and more lately. Much of his time was spent thinking about past events. Good times, bad times, in between times. He often thought about his son Mark. He had been a good son and for the most part was a delight to have around. That is, until August 1970, when Mark came home one day and announced that he had enlisted in the Navy. They had had a big argument about it and the old man’s wife had taken Mark’s side.                                                                                “He’s a grown man,” she said emphatically as she tugged on a strand of her hair. Her husband knew she did that when she was nervous.                                                                                “At least we could have talked about it before he signed the papers. Viet Nam is a dangerous place and service people are getting injured and killed there every day.”                                                                              		“Dad, we’re talking about freedom and liberty. Those commies are looking to knock over every country in Southeast Asia. First thing you know they’ll be on our doorstep. We can’t let that happen. I just don’t feel right about other guys going over there and defending our American right to freedom and liberty and me sitting at home doing nothing,” Mark said with exasperation.                                                               								 “Yeah, well I raised you. Your Mom suckled you. Your country didn’t do that. Your allegiance is to this family first. I didn’t raise you to go off and get killed in some god forsaken place. Besides those Viet Cong ain’t done nothing to me.”                                                                                At that time, a large segment of the American population agreed with him. There were a number of protests in cities across the country. College students were staging sit-ins and marching in the streets. American servicemen were being disrespected in their own country.                                                                                Mark persisted and soon the day came for him to leave for boot camp. His Mother shed tears over his leaving and his Dad hardly said a word to him. Finally he spoke up.               “Do you need anything. Do you have enough money?”                                                                                “No, I’m good.”                                                											 “Let us know if you need anything.”                                                                                “Do you need a ride to the bus station?” He was scheduled to catch the noon Greyhound to Great Lakes Naval Station in Michigan.                                                                                “No, Buddy ‘s going to stop by and take me.”                                                                                “Is Cindy going to the station with you?” his Mom asked, referring to his girlfriend since high school. Everyone figured they would eventually get hitched.                                                                                “No, we talked about it last night. She’s not going to the station. She’s staying at home. She’s rather upset with me. She doesn’t like my enlisting anymore than you do, but she said she’d wait for me to come back. She said she’d like to come and visit once-in-awhile, if that’s okay with you.”                                  										“Why should we mind. She’s a lovely girl and we like her a great deal. She’s welcome anytime, ” his Mom replied.                                                                                His Dad looked  at the wall and pointing to an empty frame, he said, “What about that sketch you’re doing of the family. Are you going to finish it while you’re gone?” he asked, his brow furrowed.                           																	 “Nah, I’ll do that when I get	back.”                                                                                “I guess I can put up with people asking about that empty frame. I sure thought that picture would be ready by now. It’s kind of like having people asking a pregnant woman in her ninth month over and over again, when she’s going to have her baby. Okay, I’ll leave it right there until you get back. I’m not taking it down.”                                                                                “I’ll finish it. I promise.”                                                                                A horn honked out in the	driveway.                                                                                “That’s Buddy, I’ve got to go.”                                                                                Mark hugged his parents, picked up his bag and was out the door. They followed him and watched as he jumped into the old Ford pickup and exchanged jibes with his friend. The truck started down the road and they waved to him until he was out of sight. Both were crying and they hugged each other, knowing now it was just them.  It was the last time they would ever see him.                                                                                “Are you coming in?” she asked; her shoulders drooping a little more than usual.                              														 “No, I think I’ll sit out on the porch for a bit,” he said as he sat in the old rocking chair, taking out his Meerschaum pipe and filling it with his favorite aromatic tobacco before lighting it. As he enjoyed the aroma of the pipe smoke, he could also detect the delectable swell of honeysuckle in the air. He looked out over the cornfield with stalks swaying in the breeze, their lush ears of corn showing off their lovely tassels of yellow, amber and brown.                                                                                “Harvest won’t be the same this year without Mark,” he thought slowly scratching his cheek. He looked up at the beautiful blue, cloudless, Colorado sky and sighed as he wondered, “What the hell is this world coming to. You spend twenty years raising a son to live a full life and contribute to this world and the next thing you know he’s going off to war in some part of the world you’ve never heard of before.”                                                                                He shrugged and suddenly, felt very tired. He tamped the burnt tobacco out of his pipe, thumping it against his palm and watched the warm ashes drift to the ground. He put the pipe in his jacket pocket and went inside. His wife was preparing supper and he noticed that she had absent- mindedly prepared the table for three people. He reminded her that Mark wouldn’t be there. She said, “I know that. Mark’s girlfriend Cindy is coming over to have supper with us. She’s off to school in New York City tomorrow and wanted to spend her last night here with us.                                                                                ___________________________________                         Six months later the two of them were sitting on the couch of their living room with its flowered wall paper and patterned rug, each crying softly. The Naval officer had just left after delivering the news that Mark had been killed during an explosion in a gun turret of the ship on which he was serving, the USS Reagan. Mark and other gunnery mates on his team had died instantly.                                                                                ____________________________________                 Returning to the present, the old man gathered his wits and decided he’d better tidy up, because his case worker was due for her weekly visit. He looked forward to it. With Mark and his wife now gone over twenty years and Cindy busy doing whatever she was doing these days, it was kind of lonely, just him and the TV. His wife Mary had left him shortly after Mark died. Her heart just broke. Cindy still stayed in touch with him after all these years but not as often as she would have liked. She remained unmarried living with the memory of her one true love, Mark.                                                                										The case worker was a very friendly young woman, brown hair falling about her shoulders, blue eyed, carefully plucked eyebrows, and medium height. She wore a sleeveless blue blouse, tucked into well- fitting Levis and the latest model Saucony walking shoes. She was very good at what she did and he liked her.                                                                                “Hello,” she said, as she surveyed the room. It was essentially the same as when his wife had died, twenty years earlier. He managed to keep it maintained to some degree of semblance as his meticulous wife had for so many years, but failed in many ways. She would not have approved of his efforts.                                                                                They chatted for about a half hour and then the case worker prepared lunch for them. It was the best he had had since she was there the week before. After cleaning up the dishes, she asked if she could do anything more for him, as she looked around the room. She gazed at the empty frame on the wall, as she did on all her visits and asked, “Are you ever going to take that frame down?”                                                                                “No, I’m leaving it up there and before you ask ‘Why?’, I’ll tell you. It reminds me of one of the stupidest mistakes I ever made. My son went off to war and his last remembrance of me was that I was angry with him. I just wish I could have one more conversation with him to tell him how much I love him.    “I can understand that. We all have regrets.” With that she departed, saying, “I will see you next week”.                                                                                __________________________                                                                                She arrived punctually the following week and knocked on the door. She was surprised when Cindy appeared at the door.             “Oh, hi, I’m Mr. Johnson’s case worker, Judy Johannson. Can I come in.”                                                            										“Yes, but I’m afraid he’s not here. He died three days ago.”                                                                                “I’m so sorry to hear that he passed away. He was such a nice man. Is there anything I can do to help?”                                                                                “No, I don’t think so. He had made most of the arrangements in advance so as not to bother anyone. Everything seems to be in order. I’m just tidying up a few	things”                                                                          						They chatted for awhile longer and as Judy was standing up to leave her eyes once again turned to the empty picture frame. To her amazement, there was a beautifully done sketch of the Johnson family filling the frame. It was done with a larger profile of Mark looking down at the family from the sky. It was marvelous, and it left Judy breathless.                                                                                “Where did this come from?” she asked.                                                                                “I did it. Mr. Johnson never seemed to understand. He always told people that I was in New York City going to college, when actually I was at the New York Academy of Art studying for a degree in fine arts. I have a studio now in town. I was doing this sketch for Mr. Johnson to give to him as a surprise. Unfortunately, he died before I could give it to him. I thought it would be appropriate to put it in the frame. I believe Mark would have liked that.                                                                                “That’s such a wonderful gesture,” Judy said. A tear ran down her cheek, as she stared at the art work.                                                                                As they exited the house, she looked up at the beautiful, blue, cloudless, Colorado sky and said to Cindy, “Somehow, I feel that all three of them are up there looking down at us and nodding their heads in approval.”                                                 						Driving down the road to her next appointment, Judy thought about all that she had experienced over the last six years since taking the job and the many people she had met. Every day seemed to present some new, unusual experience and what a day this had been.


Each time I stepped forward, It felt like I was falling. Into the depths of those black eyes, which seemed to know the past, the future, and present.

The suddenly shifting scenery before me, the rush of blood seeping into my mind. It terrified me. Sand, it was just shifting into endless dunes of sand which slowed down my run.

I was running yet I didn't know from what. No matter where my petrified gaze landed, there was only the endless grey desert of ash and fire. While I hurried away from the falling debris of the burning houses of the small town, we had lived in. In stories, this sight was only foretold as the land beyond, where no man dared to venture, I was the one who ran through it all while urging my sister to follow even if she complained that she could no longer run. I wondered if it was like that for the others, who lived beyond the barriers with mages who had spent their whole lives protecting the kingdom's walls. Where land only prospered and no children saw the death beyond them. That was the world that did not belong to us, to the simple townsfolk in the outer lands. Where only flames seemed to follow as if endless tongues of death.

Yes,

No longer did soldiers die in wars. Just the tamed beasts which took flight above our heads echoing their piercing and ringing growling breaths. Which echoes through the lands as if the endless streaks of lightning hitting the ground. Some adored them, some feared them, and us, the simple folk. We looked at them as beast used as tamed dogs for human's own desires. A show of wealth and power making us stumble into the never-ending sorrow.

Then, the darkness fell upon us followed by a swirl of flames coming from the sky and all I could do was watch everything get burned before me as it swallowed my little sister just like our parents years before. The same view of the grey sand reflecting the red of the flames. It almost resembled those beautiful sunsets we used to watch together; the memory was like a flicker of hope for my mind to escape the terrors to the time before when the world was still peaceful. When our world was still something we knew and gods still felt like sparing us. And now, those peaceful days seemed to have slowly seeped through my fingers as if sand while screams of fear echoed around me into the endless sky and the two beasts battling each other with their boiling clashing breaths.

I felt alone.

In this flaming desert of ash which seemed to have spared me. Even if I sat there begging to be killed, it didn't take me.

Was it even worth running anymore? From those large bodies as if mountains which slowly moved among the mist and clouds. Their shadows covering me entirely. It was dark, even if the sun was still hours from setting. Yet I didn't want to look down, I knew she wasn't there anymore. I knew my sister was long gone.

A roar rang in my ears, a horrid depth filled daggering shriek of one of the bodies above me.

It was falling.

If not, the flames that meant to swallow me it would be the body that crushed me. As it got closer, I saw its black obsidian scales glitter in the sun. Which seemed to reflect the deaths of the people it had caused with its flames. If not for the ash that covered me, my hair would have been the same color as those scales. If not the swollen of my eyes, I would have opened them wider as the fear finally struck me. Yet my body did not shake, I was paralyzed in place still holding onto my sister's coal-black body which long ago had cooled from the powerful gust of the wind that blew sand into my barley opened eyes as well as the sorrowful sight of the rain which didn't seem to end this never-ending wild blaze.

I closed my eyes.

It was time.

Now I too will join the rest of the people who lived in this small village until a moment of their encounter with the beasts in the sky. Yet all there was, was a light gust of wind in my face, warm and somehow soft followed by a light thud.

I blinked at the sight of a large wall before me, it's side slowly moving up and down. It was still breathing, this large blood-curdling monster whose wings had covered the sun as well as the view from the other winged beast in the sky. Another one of those creatures which was covered in blinding golden scales, a beauty too common in these terrifying things.

These things humans had called dragons.

The golden scaled winged beast had roared out the deathly triumph echoing through the emptiness. No one was around to hear its battle cry, no one would even be there to greet the beast which with a swing of its wings turned back towards one of the kingdoms that had owned it. It was returning back where it will be locked away until the time of the next game of war the kings played for land and fortune. Establishing a simple play of power that they owned.

I wonder if I had the voice for this I would have screamed? I wonder if I would have had the energy to cry more would have, I cried? If I would have had a weapon would have, I had the bravery to walk up closer to this breathing body in front of me and slashed it sides till its blood was the one that extinguished the flames which burned the ruins of the town behind me. I stayed there for days, just sitting and mourning my family, my mother, my sister, my father until the very moment I had blacked out. I didn't know when was morning or night, it felt like I was trapped in a dark cave of my own mind as the metallic smell of blood turned to the stench of rotten flesh that had covered me. The smell of death which the large black scaly body carried with it as well.

I felt its breath.

Which resembled a light warmth filled spring wind, one could only laugh at. This monster which had burned the town, and killed of my family was the one that now comforted me with its pained breath. It was too now dying in front of me. It will die just like me, abandoned by the rest. I turned my gaze towards the darkness, my shaky legs still struggling to sand. I crawled closer to the beast before me. And slowly traced my hand through its large scaly side that was covered in wounds and blood. This once majestic beast was now nothing but a sacrifice, it was a stepping stone for the rich to be used to take control of the lands. While simple folk had sold their souls to be just a bit closer to safety.

My hand trembled once it reached one of the scars which seemed like it was made by man not the beast of its own kin.

This thing was nothing compared to the stories elders had spoken of in the tales of old which I listened with wide-open eyes, indulge in those mystic tales of faraway lands. About majestic fire breathing creatures in which presents all life prospered, the godly figures that stared down at humans with eyes filled with knowledge. Creatures that shared history with humans like ourselves. Beings which kin only was forced to live out their lives under a human's command. Passed down generation from generation, they were no longer the creatures people worshiped for creating rivers and lands. The human kingdoms had hunted the last of their proud kin down long before humans had found a way to make the godly figures obey. Yet stories were still told among the simple folk, that they used to be like gods who breathed life into the known world. I still wonder if we could even complain about this cursed world, we brought upon ourselves, who no longer remembered the time before the kings decided to steal the dragon's young and tame them with dark magic. Taking away their consciousness and locking them in a lifeless state of a pet to only obey the needs of the high standing nobles, who created a game of war beyond their kingdoms. Sending the sky beasts to fight each other. That game now people had called war which took place in the outer lands beyond the kingdom's walls. Where only the simple folk who didn't share the noble's blood perished with the beasts.

I squinted at the sudden movement of the dragon's wing above me. The bright sunlight stung my baggy, red eyes which didn't seem to heal from my endless wailing. The dragon's body shook as the last breath's escaped its lungs from which more blood flowed out as if rivers. There's nothing I could have done and I didn't feel like I wanted to, I just wanted to watch it quickly die and perish before my eyes. I wanted it dead for all it had done even if I knew this thing wasn't at fault but the people. The high nobles who controlled it and all I could was put all my hatred towards this dying beast instead. I slowly traced my furrowed gaze along its bleeding long neck covered in large spikes leading up to horns that almost resembled a crown on its head. I guess, it wasn't the humans that had supposed to rule the lands and skies it was these creatures that were already born with their crowns from the beginning.

It wasn't us.

Not the nobles who thought all power was theirs to control. That is why the land was so sickening to look at. We, ourselves ruined everything that was once filled with life and magic. But in the end, we all too were taking part in this, even if our reason was just to survive in this endless torture. I exhaled sharply with pain swelling in my chest, I could barely move my head up at the beast which was supposed to strike fear and hatred into my heart with just the sound of its rumble but now looking at it I could only see the same lifelessness in it just as the bodies I held in my hold not too long ago.

I couldn't look away, even after my vision became darker my soul was still filled with hatred, my thoughts cursed it and still I couldn't help but feel sorrowful for this beast which was used as a tool for wars only to be thrown away to die alone after the war. Leaving only bones behind in the desert of ash turning to nothing but grey sand that buried all the burned land from its own flames. It was as if it had made its own grave to die in after the battle. It was strange I survived and watched it die near me. This beast, which had slowly opened its eyes to look back at me.

It was its gaze which struck my soul the most: eyes like voids, swirling as a universe enchanting my mind, eyes that reflected my own. Through them, it was as if I could see its memories, the life that led up to this moment. I wasn't sure if whatever I saw was mine or the dragons as our minds had merged in one. Strangely it was a feeling I had felt before. A rush of swirling magic in my mind taking me in a trance, A vague swirl of thoughts which I could only see in the dark maze of the creature's eyes. They almost seemed like portals to another world.

"in..." Someone's voice spoke up from behind me.

"Quinn!" The same voice called out my name.

It was my mother's voice. Filled with warmth and love just like I had remembered from the past. I turned my head. All the darkness in my eyes fading as if the trance I was in was lifted as the women cupped my face with enough force to make my numb mind feel the pain. While her worried, anger-filled gaze looked over my pale completion.

"I told you to not look at their eyes!" She scolded me again.

Then she made me stand up and brushed off my pants which were covered in dust as I was once again sitting on the ground near the stalls which were full of those strange creatures. Her voice that brought me back from this nightmare had made me tremble in fear from which I burst into tears while being held in her warm embrace as she calmed me down with hushed murmurs in my ear. It repeated over and over in my head. The fires, the burning, the deaths, the smell of rotten flesh. It still lingered in the back of my mind like a slowly disappearing thought which made me grab onto my mother more strongly as if that will erase the nightmares I had seen in the dragon's eyes. Not wanting to return back to that place, I couldn't have thought of. The place that had taken me away from the comfort of the small shack.

"Never look at their eyes..." The woman repeated as she patted my head softly "Their dangerous when they are just born, makes you see things you shouldn't." My mother kept her voice soft yet stern. She was angry yet I couldn't tell why. I looked around our old home, it was dark and silent while my father gathered the lizard-like creatures into bags and carried them out, one by one throwing them into the cart as if they were nothing but garbage. I squeezed my mother's hand, they seemed like the things from the strange vision like-dream I had just a moment ago get much smaller, more vulnerable yet that power I felt still reflected in their eyes. And all the woman did was shuffle my black hair with a small smile on her face like this was something worth celebrating.

Only after I saw the nobles taking out a bag of golden coins, I realized this was what brought food upon our table. Selling these creatures to nobles was my parent's job.

My mother moved me out of the way so that my father could take the rest of these small creatures, with soft scaly skin. He grabbed the black dragon's young which I had been in front of all morning. Looking at its black void like eyes. Which seemed to have shown the power of their kin which still hadn't been dulled by the magic humans used on them. In this strange time where I felt like a stranger with no sister and my mother's still young face as well as my father who was working with these creatures.

It almost felt like I was back in time and we were making the same mistake once again. As we were the ones hatching and selling these creature's young. Here I was just a child who only wanted to run and stop his father from shoving at least one of them into the bag while it too struggled to escape. The dragon's shriek rang in my ears which my mother covered with her hands. She squeezed them too hard. It pained me making me cry out in pain. Yet I could feel it it was not a cry from the pain she caused me. But from the fear, the fear of the future which the dragon showed me. I was still too young to really understand what that all meant. Was it a future, or just a fracture of a path the future could take? Or was it a chance to change it all or just a curse to repeat the same life over and over again to pay for our sins we had committed to the god's kin? To that, all I could do was cry out in fear and sorrow. My mind yelling and my body trembling as I still recalled its fear in the far future as well as my own.

"Not that one..." I tried to push my mother away that held me.

I was a child. Still living my life with my parents not knowing of the world beyond which the creature showed me. "Not that one!" I shouted once again as I escaped my mother hold and ran to my father who carried the bag into the cart. This was the last one the nobles paid for. Not nobles... knights, this one was heading right to the capital. Still struggling in the hold of my father that looked at me with an apologetic expression. He knew I cared for this one. Yet he still gave it away.

I ran after the cart screamed at it with pain in my throat. I couldn't keep up and only fell onto the dirt path leading to the far-off walls covered by the magical barriers hiding away the city from the town's folk.

I cried. I couldn't help but cry at the unknown. At the vague vision which wasn't really a dream but more like a disappearing memory in the back of my mind. A vague glimpse of the future.

My own, and the dragon's.

Our meeting and our parting.

As well as the death that will follow with it, it was truly a future I will not wait for.


Katrina watches as the daylight vanishes from the surface of the earth. Her balcony gave an amazing view of the mountains, which she loved seeing the sun shine upon them as it rose. Knowing that the light shining meant it was a new day. New chances, new opportunities. It signifies hope. No matter how long or cold the night is, the shining light gives warmth and an end to that long night. Katrina thought sunsets were beautiful too but felt as though sunsets were grim and dark omen. That it signified an end. She headed back inside and got herself ready for bed. Katrina is washing her face in the bathroom when she hears Ring Ring…. Ring Ring… Katrina runs and picks up the phone. The number is one she feels is familiar, but can't determine who it is. “Hello?” she says, sounding confused. “Hey, Katrina? It’s Joey from Biology 109.” Joey says. Katrina perks up, she remembers how sweet and nice he was to her. “Joey! How have you been?! And please, call me Kat.” She says slowly walking back to the balcony. “I’ve been well! I just can't believe how quick the time flew by! How have you been? What have you been up to since graduation? Last I heard you were working for WelldyneRx.” He says. “Yes!” Kat says, sitting down on the chair. She quickly gets up and does a little run to get a blanket. “The past 2 years there have been amazing and they’ve given me a pay raise already! What about you?” Joey goes silent. “Joey?” Kat says concerned. “Are you there?” Joey finally speaks up. “I-I’m here Kat.” He says hesitantly. “These past two years have been hard but things are finally getting better.” Kat looks up at the sky. She can’t see much but she sees it’s dark. “I’m sorry to hear that, Joe. Mind if I ask what was wrong?” “I have been in a dark place lately. I had lost my job with the pharmaceutical company I worked for. I lost my fiance. I lost a lot of my close friends. I struggled for a bit but with my family’s support, they showed me the light.” Joey replies. Kat is shocked. “Oh, Joey I’m so sorry. I am always here if you need anything!” She says. “Actually, that's why I had called.” Joe says hesitantly. A bright light shines in the corner of Kat’s eye. She looks up at the sky and this time finds it’s the moon. “Wow,” She says outloud without realizing. “Too much at once?''Joey says. “Oh no, not at all Joey! I just didn’t think life could be so harsh,” She says. “It can be indeed.” Joey says, laughing softly. “So I, uh, was wondering.” He pauses “Wow. The stars are absolutely beautiful tonight. Can you see them Kat?” Kat looks up. “Nope. Just the empty void of the universe.” she says with a laugh. “Do you have any outside lights on?” Joey asks. “I do, should I turn them off?” she asks. “Yes!! And then in a couple of minutes the stars will start to shine brightly for you too!” Joey explains. Kat, who is already skeptical of Joey, gets up and turns the outside light off. She texts her upstairs neighbor and asks them to do the same. “Done. Now I wait.” Kat says. “Awesome!” Joey says. There is an awkward pause for a couple of seconds. “What did you want to talk about Joey?” Kat asks. “I just wanted to ask you something.” He says. Joey takes a pause before he asks his question. “It’s a few questions actually. What were your thoughts on me? Like, when we took classes together?” He says nervously. “Oh, I thought you were a super sweet guy who was always pushing himself and others to be better.'' She says. “I also thought you were an amazing party host.” Kat teases. Joey lets out a laugh. “I did throw a couple of good parties,” he says jokingly. “How’s that sky looking?” Kat looks up. “Oh wow!! I see the little lights! That's amazing!!” She said, sounding surprised. She stares in awe at the small but bright lights in the sky. They’re a faint light but they’re captivating. “Kat? Kat? Are you there?” Joey asks, sounding concerned. Kat hears plates clattering on his end of the line. “Yeah, I’m still here. Just in awe a bit,” she laughs softly. “Did you just finish dinner or something? I hear plates clattering over there.” “Oh uh.” Joey pauses mid sentence. “Yes. I just had some friends over and that’s actually what made me think of you.” Kat shifts in her seat. Suddenly, the phone disconnects. “Thank god.” Kat says softly. She gets up and heads back into the house. She heads to the front door and makes sure it’s locked. She peeks through the window facing the shore. She sees the darkness of the night sky, the unknown part of what’s to come. “Only 12 hours till sunrise.” She says with a smile. She heads to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee for tomorrow when her phone begins to ring. She picks it up without looking at the name. “Hey Kat!” Joey says. Kat grimaces. “Sorry about that! Bad service in the woods.” Joey finishes, letting out a laugh. Kat makes her way back to the balcony. “Haha! I wondered what happened to you!” Kat jokes. “What were your other questions?” She puts her feet up on the ottoman. “I was going to ask what you were doing next Friday night. I’m throwing a small gathering for people from our friend group.” Joey responds. Kat sits up and places her feet on the floor. “Oh my gosh! Did you invite Jamie?!” Kat says excitedly. Jamie was the only person Kat was upset that they lost touch with each other after their group graduated. “Oh, you didn’t hear?” Joey asks. His tone changed. “How do those stars look?” He asks Kat, trying to change the topic. Kat glances up quickly and looks back at the mountain, dark and gloomy. She then responds, “No I didn’t hear. And the stars look cool.” “Kat, look at the stars. The moon is out too. Full moon tonight.” Joey responds. Kat does a double take toward the sky. She stares at the sky, the stars shining ever so brightly. “Wow,” Kat says, gaping at the beauty of it all. “This is beautiful Joey.” “Yes. Yes it is. This is what Jamie said to do when sharing the news.” Joey responds. “Sharing what news?” Kat asks concerned. “Is Jamie okay?” “Jamie passed away after she was in a car crash.” Joey says sadly. “She passed away a month ago. She was unreachable after graduation because she was exploring the world. She had explored all 7 continents and sailed the 7 seas. She had been skydiving and zip lining on several journeys. Jamie wanted everyone to look to the stars to remember her and her story. And to be reminded that life is short, go out and enjoy it.” Kat begins to cry. She looks to the stars. Remembers the wonderful memories she had with Jamie. “Joey, how long have you known?” Kat finally asks, between sobs. “I just found out myself. At the dinner, that’s what it was about,” He responds. “They tried to send you an invite but I guess you never got one. Jamie’s brother told us.” “Are you still at the dinner?” Kat asks. “Yes, would you like to be on speaker?” Joey responds. “I’d love for that.” Kat responds gazing at the stars still. Her and the group talk for a couple more hours. They reminisce about times with one another and how much time has gone by. When they finally hang up, Kat looks at the time and realizes it’s only 3 hours till sunrise and that it was Saturday. She decided to stay up to watch the stars a little longer. Kat then starts talking to the stars as if Jamie were there. Telling Jamie how inspired she feels, Kat decides to take a couple months off of work to go off and adventure on her own. The stars begin to fade away, and Kat see’s the sky get bright again. She wanders through the house, grabs her coffee, and heads over to the window. She watches the sunrise with a new representation in mind for night. The sunset still represents an ending but the stars are the memories of what ended, what is no longer. She feels comfort and joy in knowing the thought of the sunset representing an ending and a sunrise a beginning. The thought of darkness isn’t so scary anymore. She enjoys the sunrise whilst drinking her cup of coffee. The rising sun is her new beginning. Her new start to a life she will enjoy.


Genevieve sat aghast in front of her company laptop. Her mouth hung open like a trout caught on a fisherman's line. Her emotions dangled with equal effect. She did her best to manage the shock that radiated through herself within her workspace. "No fucking way," she stammered out. "How is this even possible?" The LED screen displayed the usual garbage pile of personal email subject lines. This lone email subject caused her skin to crawl. She had been reassured repeatedly that everything would work out fine, nothing could go wrong.

"Hey, let's get some coffee." Her coworker offered from around her desolate gray cubicle wall. Genevieve jumped in place, bumping her red and white water bottle. The BPA Free container spun on its bottom before landing triumphantly in place. "Dude, are you alright?" Bradley offered, concern cemented across his face. "Um, coffee. I, um, yeah. It's not a good day to go for coffee. I need to…" Genevieve openly divided her attention between her worried work husband and the front of the screen that gently illuminated her face. "Gen, when have you ever, I mean, ever, turned down a large cup of Jittery Joe's on a Monday morning? Especially a dreary morning like this one." He studied her face for clues that she wasn't providing. She continued to look at the screen as if he had ended their conversation years ago. "Gen?!" He barked with compassionate anxiety. "What?!" She looked at him lost in a world of thought he had not been given an admission ticket to enter. Her deep blue eyes focused back on him. "Coffee, oh yeah, not right now. I have to…" She trailed off again, pulled back to the digital distraction. Bradley furrowed his forehead at the mystery. He slowly edged around her unorganized paper piled desk. Genevieve caught notice of movement and immediately realized that his eyes were moments from reading the subject line blaring at her. She slammed her laptop shut, securing her arms across the horizontal logo with immediate intention. Bradley jumped back, never expecting such a reaction. He looked down at her in surprise. She met his gaze as if he had tried to read her teenage diary to the other twenty coworkers in the finance office. Genevieve reached into her verbal bag of 'get out of embarrassment free' cards. He noticed her hands shake. "Coffee. Yes, coffee from Jittery Joe's. We should go now." Genevieve popped out of her seat into a tall stance, trying her best to project urgency to leave the moment. She grabbed her work purse, encouraging to have him to follow. Bradley watched with sustained confusion at the oddest encounter of their eleven years as friends. The dark cottony sky held its secrets about when their rain baptism would let loose. The two of them walked in unusual silence through the other morning automatons, bypassing their customary weekend debriefings and catty comments that made Mondays before lunch bearable. The silence grew its discomfort around Bradley. He decided against asking her what bothered her a third time since they entered the elevator ten minutes ago. Her responses of oh, nothing and that's interesting continued to inflame his worry. The scent of coffee pirouetted throughout the cramped room of Jittery Joe's. They stood in the usual line of phone-focused patrons, waiting to place their order under the smile-painted sign overhead that read ORDER. Genevieve stared through thoughts that evolved her facial expressions from eyebrow squinting concern to misty-eyed frowning. Bradley communicated their orders to the red smock wearing cashier. He had been a part of this ritual enough to know her ordering nuances. He took back his card from the young woman while Genavive navigated her emotional jungle. "Oh, fuck. I'm sorry." She began to frantically fuss through the collection in her purse for the leather wallet with her own cards. "Gen, I already paid. Let's move over to the side, so people connected to the day can have their turn." She took her distraction alongside him as the baristas hurried behind impulse buy-lined walls. Bradley watched her mouth inaudible conversation to herself through his periphery. Her face responded in kind to the discussion. "Bradley, your order's up." A thin, spectacle-wearing man sang out with more enthusiasm than anyone in line needed at 8:47 am. "Thank you." The heat from within the paper cups warmed his hands. Genevieve continued to struggle within the sticky web of her thoughts. Bradley passed her the caramel-infused double espresso mocha hoping that the heat or the caffeine would break the increasingly frustrating spell of her ongoing distraction. She accepted the coffee with an absentminded thank you. They followed the same concrete path back to the lakeside office front doors. Bradley could see the numbers of his increasing frustration level in his head. Genevieve had bad days before, especially the months after she broke up with Hank several summers ago. She wore the fashion of running mascara for weeks following that, but at least those days came with scattered conversation and an invitation for him to help one of his best friends. Today, he felt like a tug boat pulling at an ocean liner who floated aimlessly near port, its captain mesmerized by the mermaid's siren song. He inferred that maybe Genavive needed to go home if she would be this distracted as they returned to their office floor. A deep flash of realization passed through her fog to central command. "Home?! No, no, no, I, I can't go home." She blurted out, eyes wide. She looked at him with cooling coffee in hand. Bradley pulled her to an unused office, littered with storage that no one ever had the time to sort. He roughly grabbed her by the outsides of her shoulders and forced her attention to his face. He normally preferred to avoid this level of confrontation. Bradley desperately needed for her to avoid the attention of JL Silverton who happened to be in office this day. "Gen, get your crap together and snap the fuck out of whatever's going on. Big Ball Swinger's in today and he looks clear out of nose candy. You're going to make it easy for his petty ass to end your days here and I can't do this job without you." Genevieve looked at him as her mental puzzle began to reform. He shook her one more time. She blinked in rapid succession. "Big Ball is here today?" She asked as if the office hadn't been gossiping about his eight-week return for several days already. "He is. If you don't fly right, that fucking slime ball is going to cancel your career like NBC cancels all of my favorite shows. Too soon and with no regard for anything but the bottom line." He held his look at her confused face. The stupidity of his analogy landed her final puzzle piece. She smiled cleared of the fog. He smiled in return. "I have to go back to my computer, don't I?" She inquired, pushing back her haze. "If you want to make partner at any point, that would be a good idea. Rumor has it that he's only going to be in for half a day. Maybe his cocaine shipment is coming in later, who knows? Get through lunch and I can cover for you through the end of the day. If he stays, there's not much anyone can do." She nodded and smiled. "Thank you." Her eyes twinkled with platonic affection. "Look, whatever is going on, check that stuff until Ball-Z slithers out the front door. Do whatever you can to stay focused. His secretary has been confiding in me that he's looking to cut a few of you to make room for a third Caddie in his garage. I'm doing what I can to make sure Frances in accounting gets chopped. That pretentious twerp is better off somewhere competence and hygiene isn't a priority." Bradley tilted his coffee cup for her clink as if they were champagne glasses. She bumped his cup in turn, their plastic coffee cup tops meeting in one spot with a dull plop. "Clink." They quipped simultaneously. "I need a minute," Genevieve suggested. "You have less than that." Bradley peered around the doorway before exiting. How do I go back to my email? she thought. The idea of dealing with that subject line began to rush water at her mental steadiness quickly unseating the stability that Bradley had helped her onto. She felt alone, knowing that he wouldn't be available until much later, especially with the ass-chewing that he would undertake for any additional attention her way. Genevieve took full advantage of the minute alone before making a slow path back to her desk. She fought through an avalanche of anxiety towards her economy office chair. No, I have to deal with what's ahead of me, she told herself. Genevieve allowed her laptop to remain closed as she busied herself with the monotony of filing and organizing her side desk. She nursed the coffee past the halfway point, promising herself to open her email when the bottom of the cup became unoccupied. Its stiff caffeine mixture began to meet her body's need for the morning addiction simultaneously pushing her anxiety upward. JL Silverton with slick backed, oil-laden hair made his rounds through what he called "the bullpen" as she kept busy through paper shuffling. "Are we planning on doing any real work today, or had you come into my office to file papers like a temp?" He leered at her with the intent of overt intimidation. "No, no, sir. I wanted to get the filing done so I could focus clearer on my computer work." Genevieve offered with genuine intent. He thought about her words while inspecting her workspace from the carpeted walkway. "Get your fucking computer open in the next five seconds or you will be filing other people's papers for the rest of your career in the mailroom." His smile oozed with disdain. "Ye, yes sir." She jammed her focus to the thin laptop on her main desk. She opened the computer and processed through the password prompt. Content with her compliance and his control, JL Silverton announced to the office with booming satisfaction, "If you aren't making me money, you aren't needed in this world." He strode away holding his customary red cup with the words Big Ball Swinger in all capital, ivory letters. Genevieve gulped the rest of her gently cooling coffee and rolled the empty cup into the trashcan under the desk. Her teeth chattered from the unplanned encounter and the forced attention to the email before her. She read over the digital line that continued to cause so much emotional indigestion. From: Curie Genetics Subject: Mutation Danger!!, DO NOT DRIN. She couldn't make out the rest of the subject line from the cutoff. Her hand shook as she held the tiny finger icon over the prompt. JL Silverton toured through "the bullpen" like a shark searching for vulnerable fish among the gray, work partition coral reefs of his office. Genevieve told herself that looking at a personal email during his patrol became too much of a risk for her chance of partner. An offense that would likely land her as a faceless foot soldier in the trenches of career monotony. The idea of finding a new hellion to work for sounded less appealing. She followed his movements all while staging the illusion that her computer efforts were for the company's benefit. Big Ball Swinger moved outside of her line of sight, forcing her to open an online financial page that he couldn't offer critique about. Genevieve didn't want to open the email. She didn't want to know about what dangers a mutation could bring. An office door shut with authority on the other side of the office. Genevieve popped her head up like a meerkat from its den, hoping to confirm her boss had retreated to the ivory tower of his office. She took in a breath and switched to her personal email somehow hoping the subject would be gone or another subject line reading Disregard Last Email magically appeared to negate the other. Genevieve clicked on her fate. The words poured into her eyes with the comfort of molten metal. Genevieve, Don't drink any coffee or anything containing caffeine under any circumstances. The data is showing a 96.33% chance of irreversible, rapid mutation within two hours of consumption. We tried to call your phone at 212-555-0983 several times last night. Call us at the number below when you get this email. Margaret Onasis, MD Research Lead - Advanced Amphibious Research Division (AARD) Curie Genetics, LLC 212-555-1461 Genevieve became enveloped into a shell of dumbfounded numb confusion. Her phone number with the group had been recorded one number off at 0982, probably by that geriatric dinosaur behind the reception desk. Nothing could have prepared her for this development. They told her that the risks would be minimal. They promised a chance at her dream of being superhuman. The remorseless bricks of reality piled around her head as time began to become meaningless. Her stomach began to quake as if a drunk monkey began wrestling a restless puppy under her blouse. The words oh no trickled from her lips. Genevieve desperately searched for Bradley from her seat. An impossible feat without standing. Her toes began to pain as she fought not to double over. The thought of her boss coming back during her moment of weakness would likely prompt one of his many "time of the month" quips. A searing pain simultaneously ripped across both sides of her neck. Her hands remained on her stomach. Bradley, she muttered to herself, praying for a burst of ESP to force his assistance. Her breathing became insatiably easier for a reason she couldn't imagine. Her neck pain subsided, being replaced with a gaping sensation. Genevieve securely covered her mouth to stall the growing need to vomit. Her ability to breathe continued unabated. Confusion grew to staggering levels. She hesitantly touched the right side of her neck. Several skin flaps opened and closed in time with her breaths. Her eyes widened at the one word she had never associated with her imperfect body. Gills. The pain from her feet continued to increase, jockeying to receive proper attention. Genevieve became locked in petrified fear about slipping off her low pumps. The fluorescent-lit room began to spin on a turntable before her watering eyes. Genevieve called out for Bradley, finding that her tongue had since tripled in size silencing words that wouldn't reach anyone's ears. She doubled over her chair vomiting red-orange slush all over her smile decorated coffee cup. Genevieve sat up. Her tongue began to pass between her lips to gain space for itself. Pain erupted in her hands causing bringing them flush against her tossing stomach. Her shoe fell off, causing her eyes to grow large at the sight of a left foot that looked as if its toes melted together into a human flipper. Three powder blue painted toenails littered the industrial, gray carpet. Panic took full hold. She attempted to stand. Her legs refused to comply. Genevieve struggled to make sense of herself. Mutation. Coffee. Bradley. Midas. The words began to lose their meaning in her internal dictionary. She looked down to her lap as her back tensed into a series of muscle knots. Genevieve became complicit in watching her fingernails pop off into her crimson skirt. She groaned to herself. Her eyes rolled. She could intimately feel her four-finger skin merging to one another as her thumbs began to double in length. A primal need to find solace overtook her brain. Genevieve stood up against the objection of her twitching back muscles. She took flight to the stairwell, working towards the one goal of escape from the ever-blinding light. Her long, brown hair trailed behind in segmented clumps, careening to the carpet. She breached the stairwell door, leaving her other shoe just beyond its entrance. Genevieve's world became painted in hues of obscene fuchsia. Her breathing remained steady as she burst through the lobby-level door. She swung her head around, thinking more like a loose animal than a rational human. Her eyes took bead of the lake just off of the building grounds, ignoring the few people talking outside. Her feet plopped along the tiles as if their bottoms were lined with suckers. Genevieve bore through the double doors into the daylight. The smokers outside jumped backward at the bald womanesque creature whose eyes appeared to radiate an obscene magenta over a wide gill-lined neck. She began tearing away at her clothing as the water became closer. Her hand claws ripped open the blouse at its center, splitting the top into one flapping fabric. Genevieve had enough humanity left to know that her skirt and panties needed to be pulled down to be free of their constraint. People watched with expressed horror as the woman tore her purple bra off into the grass. A distressed witness later recalled that a naked woman, accessorized in what looked like monster make-up dove into the cold waters of Lake Polamalu. No one reported seeing her resurface.

Water rescue units searched the immediate vicinity for several hours before giving up on finding the woman. Local police concluded that the incident had been orchestrated as either a prank or personal cry for attention. No one from the office could offer anything additional to help clear the mystery. Bradley explained to formal investigators that Genavive had acted abnormally, though, upon their exit, she appeared to have calmed down as he knew her to be. The moment detectives left, JL Silverton refocused his office back to their tasks after threatening to "shitcan" anyone deciding to "flake out like that broad."


**WARNING SELF HARM TALK** Zylix wasn't a normal kid but who ever thinks they are? Without the average it's just a sea of average anyway since then the great will be normal. Zylix just liked getting through the day and waiting for Tristan, their best friend on the whole planet. Tristan came late at night, after the sun went down and those gorgeous stars started to twinkle. Zylix adored the stars, there were thousands of them but they were all so unique, so beautiful. Zylix could stare at the stars until the sun came again and still admired the view even as they faded away. Saying goodbye to the stars was one of the best parts of his day, only second to when Tristan came. It was starting to rain that night, a soft drip drop that pattered away but seemed so quiet, so peaceful. Usually Tristan would have come by now and the rain was so soft and gentle sounding that Zylix could not help it- he climbed out of his window and just sat there. The rain dripping down his face, a small smile filling his face. He always felt so peaceful in the rain, like that wind was his breath rushing in and out of him, like the rain was a comforting hug. It was everything and nothing all at once and felt so endless. Tap tap tap tap. Zylix's eyes shot wide open to find Tristan his best friend grinning down at him. " Tristan! You came!", Zylix shouted, blushing when he realized how childish he sounded but Tristan's grin only grew. " Hey Zy, whatcha up to? Sitting outside your window isn't a very good idea, you know. You'll catch a cold.", Tristan chuckled, shifting to sit beside Zylix. Zylix shifted, blushing furiously as his friend settled and draped an arm around his shoulder. " Hey Zy, look at that. Stars.", Tristan sighed, his smile fading a bit. " Yeah, aren't they beautiful?", Zylix shouted happily, already starting to spot the different constellations but forgetting them as soon as they counted them. They were too beautiful to force together like that anyway. " Shhh, hey Zy. I-I need to talk to you.", Tristan started, shifting nervously and he slowly drew his arm back from Zylix. Zylix tried to ignore the absence of Tristan's warmth as he curled his own arms around him, " Sure Tristan wassup?" He didn't turn to look at his best friend. He didn't see the look on his face, the strange mixture of happiness and pain. The way his hands were tightening on his legs, the little bites and dents his nails were making. He should have looked. He always swore he should have looked. He always does now. You never know how much a moment means until it's over. As if he could hear his future self, crying he twisted to see Tristan's eyes, the sadness settling in them. " Tristan?", Zylix asked quietly, confusion clouding his features as he tried to study his friend. " I gotta go away for a while Zy.", Tristan whispered, " I don't know when I'll be back." " What?", Zylix cried, twisting to sit on his heels, " Why? Why are you leaving? Was it something I did? Tristan?" " NO, nononono. It was not you Zy. I promise.", Tristan sighed, rubbing his face. The bags beneath his eyes seemed to be growing with every moment, " I just have to go and do something. For myself. I promise it's for the best Zy." " Well can't I go with you?", Zylix whispered, trying not to cry but he knew Tristan could see the tears glittering in his eyes. He always did. " No.", Tristan snapped. Zylix stared at Tristan, the change in tone shocking him. He'd never done that before. Tristan sighed, his face softening, " Look Zylix I won't lie to you. I'm going to check myself into a mental treatment facility." " A what?", Zylix shouted, his eyes widening in shock. Tristan winced, rubbing his neck as he whispered, " I need to go. For myself. I need to get better. I can't live like this." " Like what?" Tristan stared blankly at Zylix for a moment before numbly pulling up his sleeves. Zylix had no words. The lines etched into Tristan looked like a web, a tree, a net. It looked like Tristan had been drawing to draw something, whether it was to draw something out or to reveal something to himself Zylix didn't know. " Why would you do this Tristan?", Zylix whispered, gently curling his fingers around the back of Tristan's arm. " I-I... I don't know. I never know what I'm thinking when I do it. It happens and then that's it. I clean it up, bandage it and that's that but... it's not healthy. It's not good. I need, I need to get help before I do something bad.", Tristan sighed. Zylix stayed silent for a moment before curling his arms around Tristan's neck. He had no words but he knew Tristan understood. He'd always care for Tristan, no matter what. He'd wait for him to come back. " Hey Zy." " Yeah?" " Don't forget me." " Tristan, I never will. Come back to me ok?" " Course." They stayed silent for a few more minutes before Zylix twisted to sit next to Tristan, an arm draped over his shoulder still. " Are you ok?", Zylix whispered. " No, but I will be.", Tristan chuckled nervously, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket. " Good. Then we can go on a proper date.", Zylix grumbled. Tristan's eyebrows just about leapt off his face, " What now?" Zylix chuckled, no longer staring at the stars in the sky, no this time he was going to look at the best version- his best friend. " You heard me Tristan. Owe me a proper one.", Zylix laughed. Tristan shook his head but a weary grin bloomed on his own face, " I really gotta get better now don't I?", Tristan laughed. " Yup, it gives you incentive to try your hardest. Don't forget you owe me that date when you get in there!", Zylix shouted again, before curling his arms back around Tristan's neck. " Ok,ok. I promise." Months later..... Tap tap tap tap.