Let Madness A poem with background story. • Lethe is a cure to madness – a sharp cut through the frontal lobe; Madness is wide-eyed and handsome as a bearded Prince waiting... smiling and standing against a thing howling in the rushes. Who could sleep with madness birthing dreams in the soul like moons, coldly burning, brightly beautiful? That ancient sun-blackened word for the special ability to carry visions at the edge of the eyes.... It's a half-life that's the price for living beyond the means of the soul. The true place of business for Marrakesh, Morocco, is in the old-town far from familiar cash-register queues. It is a market place with no central area only bordering, white walls, whitened buildings, then desert, and then distant, bluish mountains. Stalls and tents stave off the sun and form banks and islands in what is a turbulent stream of motley. The desert air diffuses the heated smells of wool in rug and cloth and swirls it with the smoke of roasting meat and spice. It is a labyrinth alive with babble and call and bleat. I have seen little that feels as ancient as this. When the world cracked and humanity emerged, this must have been among the first of gathering places. The old market is a place of a thousand encounters. From a brass-bangled hawker I buy and drink warm water that tastes of the goat skin it streams from. I am stopped by a slight man who argues that I should purchase a veiled woman, who is twice my bulk. I listen, shaking my head and idly wondering how I would get her past customs. A robed man and I barter in French over a djellaba. Your robe is too thin for that price! My family will starve with what you are offering me! Hands wave in the air as if anger was being tossed between us. Then, I am calmly invited to step around the stall, to sit and accept a kif pipe. We pass the small-boweled pipe between us, inhaling the drug and talking pleasantly of events or other matters. The crowd passes around us as the strong flavored kif makes all soft edges more distinct. Kif is both what is smoked and the tranquil state it brings you to. The stall becomes more then an island, it is a refuge from the chaotic color and the endless movement and need. The calm allows us to simply savor. The pipe is out and its ash dislodged by a tap against the forearm. Knowing this to be a signal, I step out and back around to the front and begin again an argument on the robe’s worth. Eventually I walk away, satisfied that I payed well below the full price, while, behind me, the merchant smiles knowing that he has unloaded a robe worth half what he sold it for. It was deep within this tent-quilted marketplace where I met a priest of the Koran. He had a little stand, actually no more than a tray on legs, from which he sold grilled meat. I often sat and talked with him as desert figures and the occasional tourist streamed by, and I never saw him sell any meat. He told me he was really there to watch the people and learn. He had a soft manner of speaking, whether it was of desert-born human needs or the difficulties of love (a favorite theme of both mystics and those not so blessed). His words were gentle whispers that measured the time. I sat by him greedily. Like the kif smoking interlude, this priest was an eye of calm in the robed storm; a devout rock that the river ran round. He made sense when I could not follow the thread in the many other encounters around me. He fed my hunger for knowledge; something I have always considered Apollo-given and wonderfully mysterious. Yet, though I thought I was collecting a scholar’s wisdom, I find myself, instead, with only ribbons of cherished images wavering in thin heat. One day our discussion lasted well into the cooling night; the buyers had already made their way home and the sellers had packed up their wares by firelight. Like a pool emptied of water, the market place took on different meanings in the dark. Several clusters of venders gathered on one side in groups of four or five, pinned back the folds of night with blazing torches, and discussed in hushed, easy voices. Sometimes a word of French would reach me, and at other times, the older Arabic. Sitting where the torchlight only weakly touched, it all looked as though it were taking place in a huge cavern. The priest and I were still conversing when I noticed that the general sound level, already low, quieted even more. When I looked around, I followed the focus and noticed the presence of an energetic man in his forties who was dressed like a prince out of Ali Baba. The priest stood, looking at the newcomer, and I followed suit. I had no idea what was taking place, and I don’t think it was expected by any there. Even at the distance of around 70 feet, I was struck by how clean and bright he appeared. Two others followed him at a relaxed pace behind. He leisurely approached the first group beneath the torches, greeting a number of them with a smile and a nod. I could not hear the few words that passed between them. Others that he neared also smiled and assumed a stance of deference and bowed before him, indicating a man of importance. He had greeted at least two groups, when he paused and casually looked across the square to see me. His eyes leapt the distance making a connection I could feel. His smile grew broader as he made his way to me, never taking his eyes from my face. Those he passed inclined their heads one after the other as if choreographed. He left his two companions behind and came on into the center alone. I was fascinated by his garments and turban, all seemingly perfect and too white. There was a gold cloth about his waist and golden strands sewn into the turban that glinted with torchlight. He seemed illusory, belonging within the verse of Omar Khayyàm and not in any real world of heat and flies and midnight cold. Yet, in that place and time is exactly where he did belong. Shadows and torches and a sky dripping stars. . . this was his stage. . . where someone like him could feel alive and burn the brighter. His eyes, which still never left mine as he approached, shone joyously in his pale, bearded face. I could not help but realize that I could clearly see the white around his irises. When he reached me, he asked, to my surprise since I thought it obvious, if I were an American. When I replied that I was, he said he had a poem that was very important and which I would appreciate and understand. He then launched into his poem with a storyteller’s voice and with eyes, wide and liquid, raised to the vast sky. Once again, I found myself in the center of a calm simply because I was the spectator, but no passive one. This man brought to me golden words, gem-studded images reflecting a flame of joy. In the poem he spoke of traveling through space with suns and worlds hurtling past him; all the stars were not above him, but around him. He walked the great spaces with the celestial breeze cooling him until the earth hung like a cracked, turquoise ball at his feet. The colors whirled around his upright hands and a thousand rainbows swirled and clung to his beard and clothes; he was an ecstatic observer of the glory and beauty of God. These images, I thought, must have been like those that greeted Adam when he first opened his eyes. When done, he bowed smilingly, fastened his eyes on me once more, then turned away. In that last glance, I read satisfaction and a completion. I watched as he strode back into the dark gathered at the edge of the square. All, again, nodded at his passing yet nothing was said. In only a moment he had slipped away into the dark without looking in any direction but his own. To this day, I cannot recall clearly what happened next, but I know the market emptied and the torches were extinguished. The priest and I followed the others away in silence to the last of the flickering lights. Later, needing the world around me, I stood on the roof of a low building in the old section where I had a room. My mind was circling around the realization that this man was mad –– not crazy or eccentric –– but classically and wonderfully mad. Unable to sleep, I gazed upward at the starred ocean to which the poet had risen and walked. All of the earth held soft edges while the vast wilds of the sky were brilliantly in focus. There was the impression of order, yet, behind this desert curtain was a swirl of colors, a constant movement that seemed of chaos. Can we humans be any different, I wondered? What lies beneath the order of our consciousness may be a glorious pandemonium of energy that has bound us to creation for well over a million years –– of which, only the last small percentage has been spent as human. Sometimes a member of the northern Inuit people went mad because of loss or desire or hurt. In this culture, which had a history of abandoning the old and unproductive upon ice flows to conserve vital resources, the mad were coddled. The People gathered around and provide for as long as it took, until some sort of reason returned to the one who had traveled to that other spiritual realm. They were heroes returning with a wisdom that may allow others to see the mundane with different eyes. It was The People’s way to allow for flexibility and growth. The returned became the shamans and storytellers, and, perhaps, the poets. Between the desert and the city, stood a great lighted minaret. From there the muezzin called the people to face the birthplace of Mohammed. While on my roof top, my eyes settled upon it, anchoring me to the beauty. The minaret was a beacon holding the desert back and marking the heavens. It was at the calm center. In the next few days, each time I heard the muezzin’s call to prayer, I remembered the cadence of the poet’s swirling words, and I again felt his impassioned eyes upon me. Years later, tossing words to a man knotted up and cross-legged in the exact center of a padded room, I saw another aspect of madness. I never, however, saw his eyes for he packed his palms tightly into them, shooting responses back to me, barely controlling muscles eager to be free. He knew he was “different” –– and wrong. When finished, I had the door unlocked and I opened it and went out. I turned and watched through a small window with wonder as the door clicked shut and the man exploded, ramming himself into one wall then instantly running for another. Something within me ached for the healing of desert-born words. I cannot remember all the poem for it was a long time ago, but its exultation remains. I never discovered whether it was something he had written and memorized or had uttered extemporaneously. It didn’t, and doesn’t, matter. The man shone as he spoke and I cannot forget that light. The mad Moroccan has become part of my own personal folklore. I search for him in twisted statues whose faces watch the skies, within hero stories, and in the defeated eyes of children. I search for his light and passion, or for their ruins when both had been forbidden. Did Alexander or Van Gogh also stretch out to the night sky? Remember Van Gogh’s swirling stars? What is the voice of reason to the likes of them? And what is birthed in the dreams of madness –– that blood kin to the fires of creation?


Ben Green is a professional engineer. Back in the days when he was on his private tropical island with his parents, he used the natural resources on the island and build houses, stairs, paths and other construction stuff. Back in 1995, his parents bought the island so they can relax. Later they bought the island and they built a house and lived there. They used water to run electricity for their home and used wind turbines too. It took a few months and the engineers finished their island by building their home there. They lived there ever since and grew fruits and vegetables for food supply and the water is clean and clear. The island has everything they need for food supply to shelter and electricity. The island is peaceful, no wild life but they have to watch out for snakes. Living on that peaceful island was a great time for his parents. A few years later, he was born. Since he was born, his father took him out for an island tour. By the age of three, he knows the island very well and started to make stuff with sticks and ropes. Later, his father was building a small shed out of wood, bamboos, nails and rope. He started learning construction tips from his father. At the age of 10, he started to use hammer and nails and had to be careful not to hit himself. He started to make bamboos and wooden boxes and make roofs, repair and it was the best time of his life. The island was his home and he’d never know there were other islands or people living in cities in modern life. He doesn’t want to leave that island even if anything happens. Many years passed and he is now a man. He constructed bridges to cross streams and roads made by wood and houses too. He wanted to create more building but he was afraid the resources would run out and the island would die. Rain season is a hard time for them. Rain drops fall from roofs and the sea level gets higher every day and storms and waves came and wash up the shore. He tried as best as he could to fix the issues of the roof. But later, he was shocked to find that the island is sinking and the water is rising, destroying the island. They might not be able to live there, but Ben will try his best to try and bring it back. He planted some berries and trees and try to bring back the natural green life of the island. He doesn’t want to leave that island and he knows there are other islands and people living in cities. His parents told him that when he was little and told him they have to leave it if it dies. He would bring it back to normal and every day he works hard. His parents help too but it was no use. Every season is a peaceful season but the rainy is very difficult and the island is sinking and getting smaller. It’s raining cats and dogs and huge waves big as a house hits their island and they had to evacuate. He doesn’t want to leave that island but they have no choice if they want to survive and live. They built a raft to get cross the surrounding water but it was so strong the raft would be destroyed. The nearest coast is 12 miles away from their island. They need to build a secure boat that would go for 12 miles with some food supplies. Watercraft isn’t easy if you make it without modern tools and it have to be able to carry some load of supplies and get it out of the island. First he needs to learn to build a raft. Building a raft is a piece of cake for him and took about 4 to 6 hours. The second thing to do is to give it an upgrade and make it into a more secure boat. Third thing to do is to make room for supplies and for his parents and him. The boat can’t sink or get the rooms and supplies wet. It’s small but at least they could get to the coast and survive. It was during a thunder storm and he was finishing some final touches and his parents were loading the ship with some food supplies. He needed more wood so he decided to get some more. He chopped a tree down and made the logs in to planks. On his way back, the sand of the island he was standing on suddenly drag him down. He was sinking in to the grown slowly, it was quick sand. He could not grab anything to get back out. The lightning struck on to a tree and the tree was on the quick sand he was on. One end of the tree was outside the sand and one was on a rock. Because of the tree, he could grab it and get out. He finished the boat and it was finished and ready to evacuate. They made it pass the water surrounding them and they were washed up on the beach. It was very sad for Ben, the tree of the island saved his life and it was his home ever since but he has to work his life with a family and a new bigger home with lots of people and friends. They walked back to his parents old home and started living there selling their fruits and getting a job. They all struggled to live their lives but soon, everything went back to a normal life. Every evening, after his job Ben goes to the beach and watched the direction of their island and he promise to try to get back there one day or even bring the island back to life. Unfortunately for the island it became a deserted island with a little bit of trees and lots of sand.


It was new year’s Eve. People were busy buying cakes on the streets of Melbourne. The rich aroma of the cakes took everyone to a divine feel. The stores were also freshly painted. The shops were covered with fresh roses which became a feast to the eyes. The tables were very well cleaned and the workers were busy at the billing section. The street also had several boutiques which made young women rush through the doors. There was a heavy traffic and the cop struggled a lot to clear the traffic. Amidst these busy situation, people were busy at buying. John Mathew, a man of 26 was living in an apartment. He had come from Los Angeles for his work. He loved his work and was passionate about it. When someone is passionate about something distance and obstacles doesn’t matters. So, he was very satisfied with his work. He planned to celebrate this new year , by engaging himself in a party . He thought of relaxing himself. John Mathew went to the club. George Stephenson , a man of 32 was working in the club . Though he had joined there only a week ago , he was able to capture the heart of the people by his mesmerising talk. So,everyone who visited the club loved to talk with him. They even thought him as their stress buster. At the same time , he too does his work with sincerity and commitment. But, he never revealed a word about his family. So people thought that he might be an orphan. But they did not confess this to him. John through his way, saw a little boy begging to his mother to get him a bike toy. His mother was not willing , since he had a lot. John by seeing this smiled to himself and thought, “ childhood days are always magical”. He crossed that shop and continued his way. He saw a beautiful woman on his way, wearing a black gown and there were stones of emerald floating on her neck. She also wore dazzling studs and a pearl bracelet. John was completely lost on seeing her face. The face was shining as bright as the moon. Even the moon failed to stand beside her for her beauty. George wanted to talk to her. His heart beat started to raise. His hands got shivered and somehow he managed himself to talk to her. He came up with lot of confidence and said , “hello.” The girl didn’t reply and he again told the same. The girl raised her chin so as to ask what. “May I know your name ?” asked John. The girl pointed out the word Mary, which was written on a shop. Then John replied, “ why are you not willing to even utter a word with me ?”. She girl bended her head down and through shaking her fingers , revealed that she was dumb. John’s heart stopped for a second. He didn’t want to miss her just because she is dumb. He told that he was in love with her. Mary was at her peak in shock. She ignored him and walked past him. John ran behind her and told, “ speech is just a sound. Sound is not needed to live. We will communicate through our Hearts and share our feelings through our eyes.”. Mary’s eyes was filled with tears. She hugged him. And along with Mary to celebrate his new year Eve, John went towards the club. When they entered, people were busy sharing their vodka and some were busy chatting with George. George was serving wine to them. To start their party with  a wine, John and Mary went to George. As a work of regular basis, he started to talk to him. He spoke to them as if they were known to him for years. The new lovers enjoyed his way of talking. Mary kept on blushing at John. John felt very happy. He had almost lived a life with her in just two hours. They totally forgot their world. George and John, almost became like close friends. They shared their childhood experiences. Mary saw her close friend there and she left George for a while. Meanwhile, George informed John about his plan to go for theatre. George hesitated at first. But, George convinced him by saying that he can spend some quality time with Mary. As soon as thinking about Mary, John agreed. John asked to him , about the theatre which was near them. George told that there was one. John told the plan to Mary. Mary had a great belief in John and so she agreed. They started their way to the theatre. There was a large queue, at the ticket counter. George looked at John with embracement. But, George told that it was their own theatre which is under the control of the club. George also added that he can buy the tickets for all of them. John felt happy. He gave the money to him. He went to the counter to buy the ticket. Grace and John went to buy some eatables so that they can have during the movie. At that time , a group of cops, were chasing a thief . He rode his bike in a very rash manner and the people were shocked to see that. The cops, too on their bikes chased him as fastly as they can. At that moment, George came out of the theatre to look for John and Mary. George was not conscious about what’s happening to him, the thief hit George with his bike and George was thrown away and his head got heavily injured. John and Mary, threw all their snacks and they were in great shock. They ran towards him, George told him, “ You’ll be alright . Come! Come! Don’t loose your hope” They took him to the nearest hospital through a cab. George fell on to Mary's shoulder on their way. Then Mary saw that, there was a heavy bleeding from his ears. Mary and John cried a lot.

John and Mary got married after a year on that same new year’ Eve. They cannot forget George's memories. After a year god gifted them with a male child. They named him, George.


     Most people don’t care to listen to what I think.

Most people don’t really notice I’m there after the initial moving-in experience when they fix me up how they like me, and then leave me.

Just because I’m the sunniest place in the house, means people seem drawn to me, but only to discuss their problems with each other.      Designed to take the modern stance on a place for everyone to gather for their daily meals, with added shelter from the elements, I think back to what it would have been like for my great-great ancestor.

Back then, people cooked outdoors, and my ancestors would have been much more exposed to the elements but also much hardier to withstand heat, cold, storm and wind.

I sometimes wish I could lead that kind of exciting life but mine has been a good life.

At least there’s a window to see what goes on outside of these four walls.      I am the same size as I was in 1976, surrounded by bell bottoms and Wedges and a loudly-ringing dial phone.

I miss that dial phone.

We had the craziest conversations - she’d always tell me about the weird things people would say, and we’d laugh together.

Sadly they replaced the dial phone in the 1990s with a tiny annoying little modern cellphone they could carry with them everywhere.

The little brat phone has too high an opinion of himself, thinks he knows everything.      My cupboards were replaced by my apartment manager and maintenance crew in 1997, and I was ok with that but I do miss sharing my space with those old biddies.

The old cupboards could sure share a great story, and you’d never guess but they were regular old gossipers.

The new combination of cupboards holds more space, they say, although, how you can fit more space into the same sized room does not really make sense to me.

My new companions are generally more soft-spoken, and since they hold more, they take to yawning sleepily.      I watched so much happen in just a year’s time.

Take this past year for instance.  In just a year’s time I got to know 3 sets of new tenants.

If they knew what I’d seen happen before they even moved in, they might they might respect a modern kitchen a little more.      Let’s rewind to right around Christmas of 2019.

All the sugary smells were about to make me nauseated, and there were simply more people than this apartment was meant to hold.

Just between you and me, I had a conversation with the dining room, and although the dining room is generally a prissy thing with not much inside its empty space, it agreed with me that Christmas is definitely the least favorite holiday.

There’s way too many spills and sticky hands that get attached to us.      Three months after that, it was like a different place altogether.

Those tenants moved out, because I guess they received an eviction notice, and within a couple weeks a new couple moved in.

It was a young couple.

Billy and Mel.

They were pregnant, and had their baby about a month after they moved in.

My goodness, you’d never believe how that kid could scream! It made the cupboards shutter, and I turned another shade of cream just to listen.

     One conversation stood out to me.

It was a late afternoon in May. Mel had the baby on her hip while fixing pancakes and scrambled eggs, and the baby was gnawing on a rubber ring, frowning.

Cellphone yelled (rang actually, but the ringtone actually says “Hey, you, pick up the phone!” - yeah, rude).

     Mel pushed a button and put it on speaker.

“Hey, Mel, honey I’m gonna be home late and I have something to tell you.

Are you sitting down?”      Mel paused in her cooking.

“What do you mean?”      “Just sit down.

Tell me when,” Billy said on the other end of the phone.      Mell sat, trembling slightly.

“Ok, what’s up?”      “Honey, I just got word that the Covid number is up.

I’m going to have to spend time solitary for the time being.

I know this sounds hard, but it’s for the best.

I’m going to have to ask you to pack me several changes of clothes, with whatever you can find that you think I’ll need and put them on the deck outside.

I can’t stay at the apartment for a while.”      “Wh-why not?” Mell asked shakily.      “Several others on the medical team have already taken this precaution several weeks ago, but since I just started at this hospital last week, they let me get the swing of things before letting me know about this.

It’s for your and Roger’s protection, Mell.

I don’t want the two people in the world I love the most to get sick because of something I bring home with me.”      “B-but this is going to go away soon, Billy, it has to. I mean, it’s like the flu right?”      “No honey, it’s much worse.

People are dying every day because we don’t have medications or ventilators or other things to help them.

I don’t want that happening to you.”

Billy’s voice shook for a moment.

Then he continued bravely, “Listen, I’m going to stay at my co-worker’s place and his wife agreed to come to our place and help you.

Their names are John and Fan.

They’re a terrific couple.

John’s about 50 and Fan is maybe 53.

She knows all about raising kids and would love to take a turn at night with Roger, since he’s teething.

I wish I could be there, but I know you’ll have all the support you need with Fran!”      “Ok...I’ll miss you...I wish I’d known before,” Mell said, trying not to cry.

“How long will you have to do this?”      “I...I don’t know, honey.

It could be just for a week or two...or it could be longer.”      I have to say, that was one of the saddest conversations I’ve ever overheard.

I wished right then I could hug Mell.

All I could do was just offer her food.

     It turned out that Fran was exactly what Mell needed.

Fran was a sweet, caring older woman who understood the challenges of being a young first-time mom, and she stepped up every time for Mell, even though they weren’t even related.

(I did have to wonder, what about Mell’s family? That part never made sense to me.

Why couldn’t your own family members share the quarantine space with you, but a co-worker’s family could?)      One conversation stands out in that time that Fran was here in the apartment with Mell.

Billy had been gone for several months, although he called every single night just to say hello to Mell and Roger.

Mell had just got off the phone and was feeling teary and Fran came over to put an arm around her shoulder.

“It’ll be ok,” she said.

“Now how about I share some things with you and you walk down memory lane with me?”      Soon the two women were leaning over the countertops, sipping black tea and laughing at the stories Fran shared as she flipped through family photo books with Mell.

It was sweet and kinda funny to watch those two silently.

It was like looking at the same person in the mirror, only at different stages of life.

I could see what Fran used to be when she was a young woman, wife to a military doctor during the Vietnam War, when he was overseas for months at a time with a very short furlough in between.

I could see how it had matured and changed her, and she’d learned to rely, not on other people, but on a strength beyond herself.

I could see also that Mell was just at that same place in life, and I hoped she found the same strength Fran had.      It was so noisy and happy when Billy finally got to go home!

They had a party, Billy, Mell, Roger, Fran and John.

Fran made vanilla cake and Mell made chicken salad (something she’d learned from Fran how to make, because she’d started out burning water).

They laughed and talked late into the night, sometimes crying, sometimes just seated in silence.

The dining room and I watched quietly.

What a year it had been!

It was almost Christmas time again. Christmas came and went and I didn't even realize it had.  It was the quietest Christmas ever.  Billy and Mell went out to visit her sister's house but other than that, they just hung around the dining table or kitchen cabinets, talking on Cellphone, over video chat to friends and family. But they had each other. I think they valued each other so much more.  It reminded me of something my ancestor had said before he was chopped down for the sake of the human cause.  When you are reduced to your bare roots, you learn to appreciate the small things in life and be grateful for the time you had.


Hans found an old table in the basement. Dust and spiderwebs enveloped its wooden cracks, its joints creaking as he carried it to the dining room. It’s indeed a rickety ancient thing but it’s sturdy enough , Hans thought as his eye gleamed with weary satisfaction. As he brought it to the faint light illuminating the dining room, he noticed some mold forming on its surface. Perhaps it hadn’t been cleaned out completely when it was last used, he speculated. He couldn’t quite remember either why the table was in the basement.

As Hans dusted it off and ran a damp cloth over its surface, he turned to the window. It was a lovely night. Behind the dark velvet curtains, the moon rested on the clouds and the stars sprawled over the sky. There was not a hint of stormy weather nor was there any unrest heard about; everything was perfectly placid. The thought of this serenity brought him a peace of mind, which subsequently emerged the thought of dear Bertha. Hans knew Bertha would come home tonight. The strong, beautiful, and intelligent Bertha who had dark and dreamy eyes that enraptured his every time they met. He knew that she would be tired from her journey; preparing dinner for her would surely delight her. He was gladdened at the thought of that prospect. When he finished cleaning the table, a crimson colored tablecloth was placed over it. Two of Hans’ best dinner plates settled on opposite sides along with the cherished goblets the two of them would use only during special occasions. In the center, a midnight blue vase contained a simple bouquet of fresh white lilies: Bertha’s favourite. As dark as the room was at that moment, Hans lighted a small candle, sufficient enough it was to brighten the table’s surface. Once he was satisfied, he sat on his side of the table and waited patiently for Bertha. He knew not the exact time to which she would arrive, but he knew she would, he believed she would. As the hours sunk and as the candle’s fire slowly melted the seeping wax, Hans grew more and more restless. He started pacing, rearranging, and pouring countless ounces of water into his own goblet. He eventually felt drowsy and exhausted and heavy and his eyelids seemed to droop down unto his cheeks and—everything went lugubriously dark. There was a thud. Then came a crash. Hans awakened at the sound. His prized plate was shattered into pieces on the floor, its white uneven fragments scattered on the grimy floor of the dining room. Hans merely stared at it, unfazed. His mind was clouded with longing and misery as he slowly stood up and cleaned the mess. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Hans’ hopes were quickly replenished as he approached the door. Sure enough, the sweet smile of Bertha welcomed him. An overwhelming joy rushed through Hans as he embraced her. He had not seen her in so, so long that his eyes brimmed with tears. “Oh how I’ve missed you!” Bertha said as she sniffed away her own tears.

“I’ve missed you too, my dear.” Hans responded as he took her hand and led her to the dining room. The candlelight blazed as bright as ever, painting the flowers with a soft yellow glow. Bertha expressed her surprise as she viewed the dinner table arrangement.

“You’ve certainly outdone yourself now!” she commented. “I almost forgot,” Hans approached the nearby window and opened it. “You like it when the windows are open.” Bertha beamed at him, silently appreciating his attentiveness. Hans disliked the windows open but he would open it for Bertha any day. They both settled in their seats and sat for a moment, gazing at the scenery outside. A wild wind was now rushing among the trees, softly and slowly it blew and crept towards the house. The moon was no longer resting; it was now hovered above the earth with the clouds surrounding it like a halo. Stars were barely visible as the clouds covered, further bringing out the moon’s glow. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” Bertha mused as she turned to Hans.

Hans nodded and stretched out his hand to her. Their hands held endearingly and almost wistfully in the calm glow of the candlelight. They then talked about everything under the sun. Hans talked about how he had been going fishing in the lake like he always did, sharing his fascination with Bertha who gladly listened. Bertha talked about how tiresome her journey had been, constantly travelling by train to and fro. But she enjoyed it, she assured Hans, who always worried about her. “I just noticed,” Bertha said, “Where did you find this table?” “The basement.” he replied. “Well I’m glad you brought it back up, it’s been so long since we’ve last used it.” she continued, “It’s old, ancient even, with all its cracks but still sturdy enough to be used.” Hans smiled melancholically. He now remembered why it was in the basement. He held Bertha’s hands slightly tighter, wishing she would never leave again.

“Hans, you should take care of yourself too,” she added, rather humorously “The house looks grubbier than the last time I set foot here.” Hans looked around. Spiderwebs had begun to coat the corners, dust settled on cabinets and door frames, and the floor was

“I’m sorry dear, I’m afraid I worried too much about you when you left.” Hans confessed. Bertha gave him an understanding look. “That’s okay. We’ll clean the house together, make it look like it always did.” “Will you stay with me?” “Always.”

As Bertha uttered the last word, the wind finally reached them. It entered through the window and extinguished the light the candle cradled. Hans couldn’t see anything but he wasn’t worried anymore. He felt the soft embrace of Bertha’s hand slowly slip away from him. The next time Hans opened his eyes, he found a picture frame sitting on the floor next to the table. The glass covering it had shattered into several uneven fragments. He picked it up and examined the photo. A young couple stood before an altar. The two looked happy and excited, their eyes looking deeply into each other’s with smiles on their faces. The man, standing tall, wore a tuxedo with a single white lily attached to the breast pocket. The woman, beautiful as ever, wore a simple wedding dress that cascaded down the small steps. It was his and Bertha’s wedding photo. Bertha has been gone for twenty years, I remember now. I finally remember. It’s time to go home , Hans thought. He then decided to clean the house.


Summer is going to be over in just a few days, and I am glad. Most kids on the block are upset about school returning, but I'm not school is like my Paradise to me. I get to learn, I get to be around people and most of all I'm not home. I rush home after playing outside all day my friends. Street light came on and the sun began to go down, I knew then I better hit the road running. Sally, my friend Ashley hollered where you going so fast? Not even turning around I hollered I got to go can't be late, and off I want. Not even realizing it but we had ended up on the other side of town. It was going to take a miracle for me to be home before Mom, and I wasn't sure you would happen. I ran as fast as I could hardly looking for cars, I actually had jump on one cars hood I didn't even see it. Man driving slammed on his break and blew his horn yelled out hey kid what are you going. Turning around quickly I glanced at him and said I'm sorry, and then I ran as fast as I could the rest of the way home. Thankfully as I reached front porch mom had turned onto a road. I couldnt see her, but I can hear the old Volkswagen.  I hurry in and  started my homework, as I prayed she wouldn't had noticed. The front door slam wide open banging into the wall and knocking the picture down. Sally, Sally May where the heck are you?? Shaking my head and rolling my eyes, I yelled back in here mother, in here doing my homework like I'm supposed to everyday . Door slams shuts and mom comes wobbling in. Well mother I can see your drunk again, so I suppose I have to cook dinner tonight. What do you mean by that little girl, you don't think I do nothing for you? Is that where you going around telling everybody? Her face started turning red and a tear fell down from her eye. Sally you better not be going around spreading rumors about me, because if it gets back to your father he will never come home. Mom, dad has been gone for 5 years now I don't think he's coming back. After the words came out I felt horrible, but it was the truth and mom needed to hear it. She stared at me for a few with a few more tears falling and As Mom stumbled away, I sat there remembering the last time I saw my father. Him and Mom upstairs arguing, or like they like to call it adult conversation. I was downstairs watching cartoons getting ready for school, trying to do my hair making sure it's pretty because it was picture  day. Mom never bought them but I still want to look pretty for the year book. He came downstairs patted me on the head and said I have to go get a loaf of bread. As he walked out he told me he loved me and I told him I love him, something we did every time we left the house. A couple minutes later my bus pulled up, mom walked downstairs as I was going out the door. I stopped and turned to tell her I love her, but of course she just shook her head and said goodbye Sally. I close the door behind me a little hard and usual, trying to leave me feelings and emotions at the door. I walked onto the bus and sat next to my friend Ashley, I knew then I was going to be okay. School seem to fly by that day, and before I knew it the dismissal bell rang. I got my things and walked to my bus and daydreamed the whole way home. I was shocked when I got home and mom was there. She usually at her friends or down at the local bar. The house is a mess and Mom was sitting at the table crying. I asked what was wrong, but she just gleared at me. I went to my room to do homework. Once I was done I walked downstairs to see if there was anything for dinner. Of course not I should be used to it by now though, so I popped  two corn dogs in the microwave. After I eat I tried to clean up the house a little bit but I was just so tired. So I decided to take a shower and get ready for bed, that way, the last day of the week could get here. And hopefully the weekend will go just as fast. Ever since the day Dad left nothing has ever been the same. Mom stayed in her room for months. I was only 10 and Dad left but I had to wear real fast and take care of the whole entire house and Mom. Mom couldn't work cause she was so depressed, she couldn't even get out of bed. I often lay away at night wondering what had happened. Wondering when my dad was and if he thought about us too. Nobody knew that he had left, when someone ask me I always said, he went on business trip. I'm sure after awhile they didn't believe me and eventually they stopped asking. When I was 13 years old, I got me a job babysitting some kids in the neighborhood. That way I can be away from home  more, and make some money. I things got very hard once dad left. For the first couple years I was sad and and pray for him to come home. But as time went by, my sadness turned into anger. I was angry he left and angry he didn't take me. But instead he walked out on me and hasn't looked back. The day he left I not only lost one parent, I lost two. My mom became someone I didn't even recognize. Back in the day my mom was the most beautiful woman around. Her hair was always done and makeup on every time she walked out the house. Everyone knew her, especially by the red lipstick and red high heels she wore. Every guy wanted her and all the girls were jealous. Mom didn't even act like she knew or she just didn't care. I wish she was like that again. We went to the grocery store one day and usually mom sat in the car. But on this day mom felt better and wanted to go in, which made me very happy. After getting everything we needed, we headed over to the checkout line.  of course  there was only two open so the line was long. As I stood there I couldn't help but to hear the two ladies behind us. Judy look isn't that Miss Miller? I don't know Beth, it kind of looks like her. Beth, I can't believe the woman all the men wanted is now at the grocery store looking like that. She should be ashamed of herself come out public like that. You do know Judy that her husband left her, and she hasn't been the same since. I made a little cough clearing My throat, the way to make them realize that I can hear them. Suddenly my heart started breaking that I stood there staring at my mom. They were right mom had let herself go. Dad walking out had totally destroyed mom and I didn't even realize it. I was too self-centered and to worry about myself to think about what mom went through. I started remembering all the times but I was mean to Mom I felt horrible. On the ride home I didn't say  a word, I just sat there admiring the woman and I gave me life. Afte we got all the groceries in, I told mom to go upstairs and take a nice long hot bath. That I wanted to cook her dinner and for her to relax. Mom just looked shook your head and walked away, she really hasn't spoken much in last 5 years. I honestly can't even remember where her voice sounds like sometimes. After dinner we went inside on the porch just staring into the Forest that was in front of her house, both of us were quiet I think we just enjoyed the company. All the sudden a calmness came over me and I realized I was blaming the wrong person. Mom didn't walk out dad walked out and he walked out on us both. I did something I should have a long time ago, I grabbed my mom's hand she looked at me and started shaking I felt my heart sink deeper in my chest. Mom is going to be okay I love you. she grabbed me and hugged me as tight as she has in a long time and just cried, I believe we sat there crying for 2 hours. For the next three years it was just me and Mom. Mom went back to her old ways, and she was stunning once again. We hardly ever talk about dark cloud that was over us, the situation with my dad. I learned to put him out of my mind and not even think of him. It was easier that way to act like he didn't never exist, then to sit there wondering why he left. Mama she started dating another guy from one town over, and she was finally happy. I finally reached my last year of high school and I was so excited to start my new adventure and go look for colleges. Everything was great life was happy. Then one day when we were rehearsing for our graduation, a guy appeared out of nowhere. He was tall and thin. Headful gray hair and he looked really really rough. I've never seen him  before, and I wasn't sure why he was there. I see the principal talking to him and as he did he kept looking up at me. It made me wonder what they're talking about and then again I was too excited for graduation. I finished setting the stage and getting everything ready for the night. That is when the man and Mr Brock the principal walked over. Miss Miller yes Mr Brock how may I help you? I asked in  a kinda shy voice. Mr Brock took a deep breath in and said Sally this is your father, and he would like to be invited to the graduation. My mouth dropped wide open the fly could have landed in there. I was speechless and all I could do is stare. Miss Miller, Miss Miller, Miss Miller and a louder voice. I heard you Mr Brock but I, I...... I couldn't even finish my sentence I just ran out. I was angry yet happy, finally after eight long years my father was there. All I wanted to do was hug him, then I  suddenly thought of mom. What would this do to her to see my father after all this time. Would she be okay would you go back to her depressed days and let herself go again. And why was Dad there was he here just for today,  was he going to stay? So many questions rather than my head, but I did not want to think of them cuz tonight was my graduation and I wanted it to be wonderful. I didn't tell Mom that I had seen dad or that he wanted to come to the graduation. I didn't want to upset her and I really wanted her to come, because she has been there since day one. All through graduation I was nervous before I did not know if my dad would just show back up,. Or if he had walked away again. After graduation mom took me out to eat, just telling me how proud she was and that she was grateful to have me in her life. Then mom said Sally, what is wrong with you is there something you need to tell me? No Mom I'm fine I promise. Well I did not just become your mother yesterday I know when something bothering you. So when you're ready to talk I'm here to listen. We finished our dessert and we headed home. As you pull up into the driveway there was somebody sitting on her front porch. My heart sank and I grab mom's hand to make sure she was okay. She looked over at me, and give me a smile as she said darling I will be fine. As we walked to the porch dad stood up mom walked past him, as she got to the door she stopped for a moment and turned around, Mr Miller nice to see you did you bring the bread? I couldn't help but chuckle for after 8 years mom was worried about the bread. Dad got his head cuz he already knew, and as he walked away I yelled out hey Dad don't forget the bread next time.


Pluck a yellow leaf. It works better on a summer's day and has a higher chance of you surviving. Dip in blue paint and draw black widow hourglass. Fill the hourglass in. Extra points if you don't actually summon a spider (Like one of our clients). This part has lots of chance. The whole warding thing has a lot of chance, luck...and un-luck. This section of the book was reread and correct. She kept reading. It would be new content. It's easier if you read below: Note that you are at risk of gray magic. Ahkem Rammrphann! Dimeephareehe Fakk!" The pan (Little forest creatures, they are) found herself rising into the sky. It was a horse-ghoul flying. She looked deep into its eyes: nothing. Tittine looked even deeper. At first she only heard a few empty, hollow dry laughs, but then, there was talking in the black void that Tittine had sensed. "Ah, I know your kind can read animals. They have taken decency quite a few times. Are yours not like them?" It said. "Do not deny: You will further prove my point. Pan do not trust ghouls." "True. I do not." Tittine replied. "I am a ghoul made from a bloody horse head, and I am very pleased if I can swallow you." The ghoul replied. “That feels like you're trying to dodge rhyming.” “Ghouls of evil spirits, you say? Just one more reason why I want to swallow you dead, is it? Besides, that was an accident.” They sped on air like it was a track. Long blue snakes circled the hills with an occasional grey dot of a boulder. It frightened Tittine to look down longer, so she closed her eyes. The horse-ghoul was supposed to be an animated thing like a horse, but there were clearly some things even the realm of the dead couldn’t achieve. The horse was transparent. " Ghouls do not trust pan. They do not trust anyone else either. Ghouls are the dead." "True. Everything could also be programmed with some dark magic, and all of this could be an illusion." “We will most likely be discussing how likely it will happen.” “Hmm. Well. "We are merely some physical supernatural-like imitations. Enjoy yourself. Nothing will make any difference." She quoted.

"One that has not seen the horrors of life may think this is some clown jabberwocky, but I understand. Your philosophy is quite dark.” The ghoul-horse said. “Farewell.” Tittine said. She slid off the ghoul. There was some kind of wall between them that stopped her from falling into the horse-ghoul’s insides. The ghoul nodded, then sped off with a flash. “Tit?” Tittine asked. A tiny brown owl popped out of the pewter pot on her shoulder. The pot had an absurdly long handle. “We’re going spider hunting.” Tittine whispered. Shall we say, spirit hunting. Anything is a spirit, in fact. There are many types of Blood rushed through her veins much faster, and something screamed inside her. Tittine began running without a purpose, wandering, feet kicking up dust. Her soul guided Tittine, and Tit screamed beside her, a hearty kind of scream. Everything was a blur beside her. A long scream again. A short yell. Long scream. Long yell. Short scream. Jumping over a boulder crossing, Tittine was supercharged. Suddenly, she stopped channeling nature energy, grew silent. Spider. Its furry legs greedily advanced, its fangs bared out, hissing. Black spider, orange striped. Worst of all, it was all at her. Tittine took out a glassblowing trumpet-like thing, only that the blowing part was closed. Pan glassblowers could work great wonders. She paused for a second. Too late. Tittine was in dart’s range. Before the spider could respond, Tittine smashed the trumpet-like glass thing over it. The trumpet-like exploded, shattering with a high-pitched sound. That seemed to destroy half of the spider’s legs.  The pan scaled the boulder frantically, but the spider kept advancing. The legs seemed to switch, and there were two legs on each side. It stumbled angrily, legs not keeping up with the body. The spider bulged its eight eyes out. Is this the supernatural kind? Tittine shouted. That destroyed half of the spider’s leg. She shouted again, but not as an attack: “Tit!” No reply. The tiny brown owl was gone. Then Tittine realized it had flown somewhere else. The spider regrew all of its legs. One leg nearly pinned her. It feeds on despair. However, I imagine it, it becomes. I have to use that. Slowly, the spider began to change. Stripes disappearing, fangs shortening, pale skin, lessening of eyes and legs. It became a baby. Tittine poked her two times before it started to change into a spider. She had made a mark. The baby wouldn’t change into a spider anytime soon, and quite literally. “You’re Ulti.” She whispered. “The spirit shapeshifter.” It was abruptly interrupted by a clattering of hooves, and the baby started to cry. The pan rubbed her nose, and the baby started laughing. “Ghoul-horse,” She looked up and said, “You are here again?” The ghoul quietly nodded. “But…we can’t just leave Tit here!” Tittine stuttered. “The owl will fly home to where you live. I wonder…do you have an animal bondage?” The ghoul-horse asked. “Yes.” Tittine said. “I am Wasnaf. Call me whenever you need to.” The ghoul said. “Wait!” “For what, hmmm?” The horse-ghoul smiled. Only a half of his ethereal body you were able to see. “Well, I need to go home.” “Thought you magical forest people could enlarge a bird with a spell.” Tittine stopped the urge to tell him that magic wasn’t easy. “Well, we just left Tit.” “All right, suppose he’s sitting at the Mushroom thinking we’re neglectful and slow for not finding him yet. You need me, right?” She climbed up on the ghoul, taking Ulti the baby. “Well, if that’s the case and he’s thinking I’m neglectful, I’ll be having a whole new problem to deal with.” Soon, Wasnef left Tittine and Ulti at the Mushroom. No sign of anyone. Silence. Just when she began to think Tit was truly gone, the little bird hopped up…and into the pot. It peeked out, looking at Ulti. Tittine laughed. One day, I’m going to see Wasnef. And I’ll be taking Tit with me. Perhaps with Ulti.


 A Ghost Story   Grace lay quietly in the hospital bed. Her heart monitor showed a slowing of her heartbeat. Her husband sat beside her bed crying. Grace felt as if she were melting into the bed. She tried patting her husbands’ hand, she felt cold creeping up her body. Her legs felt like ice. She breathed through her mouth gasping for every breath. Her husband kept raising her gown to feel her legs. He could feel the cold moving up her body. Grace quietly wondered what was on the other side. She was sure that there was life on the other side, her Baptist faith had taught her that. What would it be like? A nurse came in and checked her vitals. “Nurse, how long will it take me to die?” Grace quietly asked. The nurse looked down at her and smiled, “The process always takes about two days.” Grace sighed and lay still, feeling as if the melting was quacking.   She slowly drifted off to sleep.

  Grace woke up, the room seemed bright and she felt o.k., she sat up and pushed herself off of the hospital bed. Her husband was sitting in the corner crying and signing some paperwork. “Joseph, Joseph, I feel so much better.” She walked over to stand beside him. She looked down at the paperwork he was signing. She reached out to touch him on the shoulder. “Joseph, look, I am better.” He did not glance at her, he continued filling out the paperwork. She felt frustrated and turned around in anger. She noticed a body still lying on the hospital bed.   She walked over to it and saw that it was herself. It suddenly dawned on her that she had died. She reached down and pinched herself to see if she were dreaming. She felt no pain with the pinch. She stepped back and suddenly a tunnel appeared before her. It looked black around the edges, but there was a bright spot at the end of it. She knew she had to follow it through to the end.   Grace walked what seemed like miles to the end of the tunnel and stepped out on the other side. She followed a path of gold bricks through some woods and as she topped the hill, she saw the golden city on top of a high hill. The gates seemed gigantic and hewn from a single pearl. A man sat on a stool by the entrance. He got up and walked towards her. She felt embarrassed as she stood there in her hospital gown. He held out a hand towards her, “Welcome to the gates of heaven, please wait and I will open them for you.” He walked over and pulled on a golden stranded rope; He waved his hand for her to enter. She walked in and suddenly saw a group of people huddled off to the side. They turned and approached her. She blushed as she realized her nakedness standing there. The gentleman reached out his hand, “Welcome to heaven.” He said, his gaze did not fall from Grace’s face. The woman pushed her way gently towards grace, “Don’t worry about one thing, we will see to all of your needs and set you up with a house here.” She smiled broadly. Grace smiled, can I see my Grandmother and Grandfather?” A man behind the woman nodded, “You may visit your relatives after a three-day settling in period here.” He smiled at Grace. The woman looped her arm through Graces, follow us, we want to take you and show you your new home.   They walked down the streets of heaven; Grace saw people in every manner of dress even from centuries past. The gentleman beside her smiled as he looked down at her, “everyone here dresses in the way they did in life. It helps everyone feel comfortable here.” Grace nodded, “I see.” The streets were crowded with people, No one seemed to pay attention to Grace’s hospital gown. They approached a beautiful Victorian home, the man who had addressed Grace and welcomed her dropped the keys into her hands. “This is to be your home here.” Grace’s hand flew over her mouth, “Really?” The group nodded and hugged Grace. “Grace, get settled into your new home and I will come around for you in about two hours’ time and we will go pick you up some clothes. Grace nodded, “that would be great!” The group waved goodbye and left Grace standing there on the front porch. She turned around and inserted the large skeleton key in the lock. The door swung open and she walked in looking at the grandeur of the home. It was beautiful! She walked up the stairs, and into the bedroom. She looked around and glanced out the window to the street below, she saw a couple with a child walking down the street below. She opened the closet and glanced into the closet, there were no clothes there. She looked at how spacious the closet was. She walked down the stairs, through the dining hall and into the back kitchen. It was spaciously laid out. The furniture was ornate and looked Victorian in design. She walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa. She noticed there were no clocks on the wall so she could not decide on how to tell when to expect her company.   The sun shown brightly through the window, Grace got up and pulled back a panel of the heavy velvet gold drapery.   Soon a rapid knock came at the door. Grace walked over and opened it. “Hello again, I have come to take you clothes shopping.  The woman pulled out a tape measure and started taking all of her measurements and writing them down on a pad of paper. Grace turned and posed as asked. “How do you like your new home Grace?” The woman asked. It is grander than the one I had when on Earth. The woman smiled, she waved for Grace to follow her. They walked out into the street and followed a winding path which was lined with shops. Grace saw people walking with bags in their hands. They finally stopped and entered one. The woman approached the proprietor. “This is our new citizen Grace. She needs a wardrobe for here.” The woman smiled, “Welcome Grace.” The woman studied Grace’s measurements and stood up rubbing her chin. “I have just the thing for you.” She walked out among the racks and pulled hangers off of the racks left and right. She handed them to the woman. She motioned for Grace to follow her. They walked back into the dressing rooms and started trying on outfits. Grace picked out her favorites that she had enjoyed on earth. “How do I pay for these,” she asked, the woman smiled and laughed, “You do not dear, shop keeping over here, is a service to others. All work over here is in service to others.”  She smiled, placed the clothes back on the hanger and handed them to Grace.  “Hand these clothes to the clerk and just let her scan them out and place them in a bag for you.”     Grace did as she was instructed. “May I wear an outfit out?” Grace asked. “Yes of course the woman said with a big smile on her face. “Grace looked at the woman, what time is it?” “We have no time here per say, it is never dark here either.” She laughed softly and opened the door, “There is a wonderful little restaurant down the road that I think we should stop and eat a bite.  Eating is not a necessity here, but new commers usually take a while to adapt to that aspect of living over here.” Grace smiled and swung the dress bags over her shoulder and followed after her friend.     They followed the golden brick along to a section of town with a lot of restaurants and the woman chose one and opened the door for Grace.  “What do we eat over here?” Grace asked. “Mostly fruits and vegetables.” They chose a place close to the window and sat down. They picked up the menus and perused them, Grace instantly requested the pear salad.  The woman stopped and smiled sweetly, Grace, “I never told you my name.” Grace smiled, “No you have not.” She looked at the woman gently.  “I’m your great, great grandmother, that you have never met in life. I am Mary Terrell. Grace placed her hand over her mouth, Great, Great Grandmother.” She looked at her intently. “Yes, and I am so happy to finally have met you.” She smiled.  “I am going to be your best friend and help you settle into things here.” “Grace, I think I will take the Pear salad as well.”


I stepped over the mossy log and continued down the hill. The forest was cool, unlike the city, dirty, and full of the smell of dead corpses. The smell of the woods was different, it was fresh, clear, not musty. I spent most of my time in the woods now, staying away from the city as much as possible.

The site of the corpses scattered across the city filled me with, anger. None of those people had done anything to deserve this, to be gunned down by the army, then left to rot. They didn’t deserve the Seed either, or the Cycle. But out in the woods, I didn’t have to see any of them. No Reapers stumbling around, no people going through the Cycle.

I can’t stay in the woods forever though, just to hunt. I must be with Avery, Jenni, and Tessa. They are all I have left, after the Seed.

“Give me the beat-Boys and free my soul,” I sang quietly. “I want to get lost in your rock and roll, so drift away!” Singing the chorus of that song brought back the memory of listening to it for hours with my mom. Me and her always loved the same type of music.

Suddenly, a deer emerged from the brush, silently eating grass. The animal had been left alone for years, that it didn’t even care about me. I squatted down and started to stab my knife in the dirt, watching the deer graze.

Occasionally, it would look up at me with its big, brown eyes, then continue to eat. I was jealous of the deer, he was free. Didn’t have to worry about Reapers, or the Seed, anything. Maybe getting mauled by a bear, but nothing really, free of worry.

I stood up, which made the deer flinch. I sheathed my knife, then walked away. My sudden movement scared the deer away. “Time to get back,” I whispered. Slowly, I made my way back up the hill, the whole-time singing Drift Away, while I could.

…

The sky was grey, the streets were barren, besides the few bodies of Reapers here and there, and some crashed cars. I walked in the middle of the street, hoping to not attract attention from Reapers. When one came, they all came. I’ve only been chased by a horde once, and I wasn’t waiting for that chance again.

I remember it clearly. It was about two weeks after the Seed hit, and I was scavenging in some Walmart supercenter. I had just filled my bag up when I started hearing moans. They started coming from everywhere, behind cash registers, the bathroom, random aisles. It was a miracle I made it out of there.

When I did escape, they came pouring out the front door, huddling up into a horde. I ran for what seemed like an hour, but it was just a minute at most. The ones from the store plus Reapers from the streets added up to about a hundred Reapers.

I managed to barricade a close by furniture store, then escape out the back door. I shook my head and tried to forget that day. “Just plain stupid to remember,” I told myself. The low hum of an engine came into my ear. Quickly, I turned around, and just in time to doge the blue Charger barreling after me.

I rolled into a pile of rubble, but I jumped up quickly. The driver of the car stopped, then leaned out his window. “Stay out of the road, dumb ass!” he shouted. I picked up a rock and hurled it at his car. It shattered the back window. “Yeh, watch where you're going, You big sh...” I didn’t finish, the car slowly started rolling backwards.

Quickly, I turned around and ran. Some survivors were nice, but this guy wasn’t. I heard the engine being revved up and the wheels squealing, then the car took off towards me. My legs were pumping, sweat dripping off my hair. I jumped behind a cement barricade before I became one with the road.

The car zoomed right past the barricade, and straight into another. Smoke was rising out of the hood, and liquid was pouring from the bottom. I heard whimpers and screams of pain from the man. I wanted to leave him for dead, but I just couldn’t. I came out from behind the barricade and jogged to the car.

I came up to the window and looked down at the man. He was in his twenties, slick, blonde hair, blue eyes. “Please,” he begged. “Don’t leave me.” I nodded. “What’s your name?” He coughed hard for a second, then said, “Gavin.” “Okay, Gavin,” I replied. “Are you hurt?”

He nodded. “Can’t... Can’t feel my legs.” I knew then I wouldn’t be able to get him back to the shelter. I tried opening his door, but it was so crushed that it wouldn’t budge. Another sound, besides the broken car, filled my ears. It was the silent, dark moan of the Reapers.

I looked around. I couldn’t see any, but they were there. “Please don’t leave me,” cried Gavin. I shook my head. “I'm not going anywhere.” I then started to jerk to what was left of the handle, but it was stuck. I pulled harder, but nothing moved. Gavin started to cry. “It's stuck,” I said. “You need to calm down.”

“Don’t leave me,” he cried. I turned around once more, and sure enough, there were Reapers. Four of them. I couldn’t shoot them, it would just bring more, and it would be a waste of ammo. They limped towards the car slowly. Gavin grabbed my arm. “Please!”

I pulled out my Revolver and aimed it at the first Reaper. My finger wouldn’t pull the trigger. I looked down at Gavin, he was a pitiful sight to see. “I'm sorry,” I whispered, knowing there was absolutely no chance of escape for him, and I shot him. Right int the head, it just took one shot, and he was dead.

His body stopped breathing and he went limp. I replaced my gun in its holster, then ran, away from the Reapers and Gavin’s body. I turned around once when I was at a safe distance. There were about ten Reapers now, huddled around the car, ripping chunks from Gavin’s corpse.

...

“He came out of nowhere,” I said. “Almost ran me over, but I jumped.” Avery pointed his spoon at me. “And what happened after that?” I shrugged. “I smashed his window with a rock and ran.” Avery dropped the spoon in his clam chowder and started to laugh.

Jenni’s smile grew wider. “You smashed his window,” she asked. “Then ran away.” I nodded, smiling myself. Avery recovered from his laughter, then scooped up the rest of his chowder. Tessa slowly stirred her dinner, watching the steam rise from the bowl. “What happened to him?” she asked. “The man in the car.” I looked at her, my body stiffened. “Umm,” I replied. “He, uh... He drove away.” “Thats it. You smash his window, and he drives away?” Avery questioned. I shook my head. “No, he chased me, but he kept driving,” I lied. “Missed me by an inch.”

Tessa was about to reply when a knock came from the door. I looked at the door, thinking it was just my imagination. Avery looked at the door too, so I knew it was real. Jenni stood up, gripping a steak knife. I pulled out my own knife and slowly advanced towards the door.

Another knock came, but this time with a voice. “Hello, is anyone in there?” I took one step closer. “Please, just let me in,” he said. I looked at the door, then reached out for the handle. “Who are you?” I asked. I was answered with another knock.

“Just let me in!” he cried. “They're coming!” I turned the lock, then opened the door. The survivor stumbled in, falling to the floor. I looked out the door before I closed it. Sure enough, the street was full of Reapers, on top of cars, crawling around, everywhere.

I closed the door, locked it, then looked down at the new man. “Who are you?” I asked. Jenni and Avery walked over from the table, but Tessa stayed there. “Riley... Riley Summers,” the man stammered. I held out my hand, and Riley took it.

“Who are you guys?” he asked. I pointed towards my friends. “That’s Avery, and Jenni,” I said, then gestured to the table. “And that's Tessa, I'm Noah.” Riley looked over at the table, then back to me. He had eyes like a hungry then. “Food,” he said. “I haven't had any in days, please.” Jenni walked back to the table and served Riley a bowl.

He scurried over to the table and wolfed down the clam chowder, then he served himself another bowl. While he was eating, the rest of us went into the living room to talk. “He can’t stay here,” said Jenni. I shook my head. “He helpless,” I replied. “Got nowhere to go.”

Avery clapped his hands together. “Listen, he can stay until he is ready to set out, then that's that,” he said. “Maybe for a week at the most.” I nodded. “Thats fine with me.” Jenni looked at us both, then sighed. “Fine, one week.”

I turned around and headed back to the kitchen. Riley was talking with Tessa when I sat down. “You can stay,” I said. “For a few days.” Riley took another bite of his chowder, then smiled at me. “Thank you.”

Jenni and Avery came and returned to their seats. I was about to ask Riley a question when I noticed something on his arm: it was a bite mark. I looked up at his eyes. Sure enough, there was red swelling under his eye lids. I didn’t know what to do. Kill him on the spot, kick him out, tell everyone else. For now, I wasn’t going to do anything.

In the morning, Riley was gone. Along with some of our food and the hunting rifle.

...

“He was infected,” I explained to Tessa. “It was good that he left.” Tessa leaned back into her seat. “Why did he leave though?” she asked. “I mean, he had safety, shelter, anything anyone would want.” I looked over at Jenni, and she just shrugged.

Avery jumped into the conversation, which I was glad. “Some people just don’t trust everyone, that’s why.” Tessa nodded. I turned the wheel and the car glided to the right. The sky started to grow dark, the sun drifting slowly behind the horizon.

I pressed harder on the gas pedal. Avery leaned forward from the back seat. “They will be out soon,” he said. I looked at him, then reached down for my water bottle. As I brought my hand back up, the bottle bumped the radio knob, turning the station on. At first, it was just noise, then a voice started talking, clear as day.

“Turn it up,” Avery said, staring anxiously at the stereo. “This message is... is to all survivors. My name... Kevin Reich,” said the radio. “There is... lifeboat in Newyork harbor. Me... Crew... For as long a... can.” I looked at Jenni, and she stared back with the same look. “We will wait for everyone... that can fit. Go... Bye.”

After those last words, the voice left, and the scratchy noise returned. “Lifeboat,” I whispered. “Newyork?” Jenni reached back and grasped Tessa’s hand. “We're gonna be safe?” She asked. I nodded. A smile crossed my face, and hope returned to my heart.

Suddenly, Tessa screamed. I was so consumed with the thought of freedom; I wasn’t paying attention to the road. “Watch out!” Jenni cried. I didn’t know what to look out for, but I jerked the wheel to the right, then everything went black.

…

My eyes opened slowly. The car had crashed, into a lamppost. Smoke was coming out of the engine, and the window had shattered. I tried to turn to the back, but a sharp pain entered my neck. “Is... Everyone okay?” I managed to say. I heard a faint groan from the back.

I reached down the unbuckle myself, but I stopped. There was a giant shard of the window glass stuck in my thigh. Blood was steadily dripping off my leg onto the seat. I tried to pull it out, but it hurt too much. So, I unbuckled my seat belt and opened my door.

I fell onto the floor when I tried to stand up, and the glass sunk deeper into my leg. I wanted to scream in pain, but what I saw next stopped me from it. There was a Reaper in the road, standing about thirty feet away. I rolled over so I could grab my gun. When I pulled it out, I saw the Reaper was getting closer.

Its jaw had rotted off long ago, same with its hair. I cocked my pistol, then fired off a shot. The bullet hit the Reaper in the stomach, but it kept coming. “Noah!” Avery shouted from the car. “I'm coming, just hold on.” I took another shot at the Reaper, but it missed.

I just couldn’t hit its head at the angle I was at. Now it was about ten feet away, step by step it got closer. “Hold on!” Avery said again. I started to lose consciousness; I was losing too much blood. My hand slowly lowered, then I dropped my revolver. My head sagged to the ground. And I was out. The last thing I heard before fainting was three gunshots.

…

“Help me!” I cried. It was dark, and cold. I couldn’t see anyone, no one was there. I stood up and started to walk, then run. I felt like I was going to run into an invisible wall at any moment, but I didn’t. I started to sweat as I ran.

My legs started to feel heavy, same with my arm. Suddenly, I heard the noise of an engine. I turned around and saw Gavin’s Charger racing after me. “Please don’t leave me!” he shouted from his car. I tried to run, but I kept getting heavier.

The car got closer. I fell, my legs were stuck in place. Gavin’s car drove right over me, but I didn’t feel anything. “Help me!” I cried. Again, no one came. I was alone, alone in the dark.

…

I shot up into a sitting position. I was covered in sweat, and dirt. My wounded leg had been bandaged by someone; blood had stained my pants and the bandage. Slowly, and with difficulty, I stood up and made my way to the door.

The hallway was dimly lit, but I still could see. “Hell... Hello?” I croaked. Avery appeared from the kitchen. He smiled, then embraced me in a hug. “How are you doing?” he asked. I shrugged. “Hurt, but okay.” He pulled away from me, then led me to the couch.

I practically fell onto the cushion; I couldn’t even hold myself up. Jenni was sitting in the armchair across from me, and Tessa was on the floor beside her sister. “What... What happened?” I asked. Jenni looked at Avery, then he looked at me. It was like there was some dark secret between them, just staring at each other, deciding what to say.

“Noah, I killed the Reaper,” Avery finally said. “You had lost so much blood we barley saved you.” I leaned back into the couch. “I figured,” I said calmly. “Is there anything else?” Avery sighed, but Jenni spilled first. “Were leaving, Noah,” she said. “To Newyork, the haven. That’s better than this.”

Again, I figured so. “Well, when do we leave?” I asked. Avery smiled. “As soon as your leg heals.” I rolled my eyes, then stood up. “I'm fine.” After I took a step, I fell to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. “Please... Just help me,” I asked. Jenni sighed, then got up from her chair.


The Train Wreck The day was balmy and warm though winter was not yet done with us.  On such a day the hills called out to be trod upon.  Ol’ Spot and I set out, in no particular hurry, to mount those hills with whom we had become close friends over the years.  Seasons never deterred us but were merely a change in mood, and who of us has not changed our mind or mood on occasion. The slope was steep with small riverlets that would eventually join a creek, then a river or two and finally the ocean.  They were now clogged with leaves and ice and blowing snow.  Normally Spot would stop to lap water from the icy flow, but with a hard freeze he was content to bypass that adventure.

Up a slope and down to a glade, I repeated the ascent twice more till my muscles ached and perspiration in spite of the weather told me it was time for a rest. The view was worth the effort.  Even Spot was impressed! Far below, in the valley I could see the train’s rails disappearing in the distance both east and west.  The rails glissened in the reflected winter light. From my vantage, only small distances were hidden behind hills.  My bologna sandwich called to me, and Spot and I enjoyed our lunch break.  In the distant west I could see a freight train plowing over the low hills.  It was a massive slow slogging behemoth gamely struggling to make its schedule.  But wait, something else was going on.  To the east, was the sleek steel tubular passenger liner, headed west like a racing steed.  The liner appeared fast and lithe.  Its speed was twice that of the freight hauler.  I looked closely, but knew from my knowledge of the area that there was no siding for a sleek passenger carrier to stop.

Communications being what they are these days, collisions are rare.  But did either of the engineers know the other was coming? My phone was there.  (I may be dedicated to nature, but I still demand a few conveniences.)  The 911 operator promptly answered with her rehearsed response. “911, how can I help you?” I described the railway and the approaching trains.  I identified the area as closely as possible.  Efficient, but with more urgency, she responded, “Hold on, I’ll contact the dispatcher.” Only a moment later she returned on line.  “The dispatcher cannot get in touch.  It’s a very desolate area! Down in those valleys, communications are sketchy.  I’ll try the local EMS."  After a short time she returned, somewhat out of breath.  “EMS will try, but they also had no communication response and said there are just no highways.  It’s a designated scenic area.” As I gazed back at the tracks, the two trains were eating up the territory like an eager teenager at a pizza buffet.  The geography with its rolling hills and unending curves effectively hid them from each other.  It was unlikely they could stop in time and time was against them.  I had one more request for the vexed 911 operator, “How about calling my cousin, Muley.  He lives near here.” I gave her his number.  “Sure, how can he help?”  He can’t, but he can come up here.  He’s never seen such a wreck!”

 She had just closed the connection when I heard soft footsteps behind me.  It was Muley!  Muley had an uncanny ability to show up when needed—usually before being summoned.

“‘Sup, Buddy!”

 “…big problem down in the valley, Muley.  It looks like confusion on the tracks.  There’s a fast passenger carrier barreling from the east and a gigantic freight carrier slogging its way from the west.  I don’t see any siding and with the hills I doubt they are aware of each other.  The dispatcher can’t communicate.”  Even before I finished describing the problem, Muley had pulled his rifle cover from his shoulder (I hadn’t noticed he had a rifle.) He unzipped it and revealed a 30.06 rifle complete with tripod and the most sophisticated sight I had ever seen. “What’re you gonna do?  You can’t stop a liner with a rifle.” “I don’t plan to stop it.  I’m just going to send a signal they won’t ignore.” “What’s your signal say?  Stop the train or Butch Cassidy and Sundance will blow you up!" “No, I’m simply going to signal danger—BIG DANGER, STOP, BACK UP!” In the time it took to say these few words, Muley had set up his tripod, screwed on the sight, mounted the rifle and was already peering through the sight at the engine of the fast liner. “Do you think you can hit the liner?” “I’m aiming for a corner of the locomotive window or the windshield.  I want to send a signal without injuring anyone.  I will, at least,

give it a good old college try.” Now the sleek liner was starting up a large hill at a tremendous speed.  The freight carrier was last seen approaching the other side of the hill.  Now we could no longer see the freight engine on the far side of the hill, but some of the following cars were still visible.  At that moment, I heard a crack of the rifle. Muley said, “Well, I grazed the windshield, but I think that round skipped off without penetrating.” As we spoke, I heard— CRACK!

In a more satisfying voice Muley stated, “I think that did it.  A solid hit, less than four inches from the front lower corner.  Muley continued his narration, “About now that engineer is looking at the hole and thinking, ‘What the hell.’  He’s scratching his head and looking at the front windshield crack.  He thinking to himself,

DANGER.   He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he’s going to hit the brakes and go into reverse.” At that moment, with the liner half way up the hill, sparks began flying from the locomotive and under the undercarriage of the passenger cars.  Soon the wheels reversed and there was some slow backward motion.   Even at our distance from the track, we could hear the couplings compress. The backward movement was barely perceptible at first, but gradually gained momentum.  One look at the top of the hill revealed that the freight engine had gained the top of the hill and was gamely moving down the slope.  Soon the engineer noticed the liner obstructing the track and hit his own brakes and reversed gears. I commented to Muley, “You did it!  You stopped the collision.” “No.  No, I didn’t prevent anything; But I may have avoided a derailment and loss of life.” Muley was already packing away his rifle, scope and tripod.  We watched as the trains tried desperately to slow.  It was a futile attempt.  The two locomotives crashed with a deafening

CLANG!

The forward three to six feet of both engines were tangled together in a mess.  Then we saw engineers from both trains climb out to survey the damage.  Soon passengers disembarked as well.  Muley said, “It’s a train wreck alright.  But there’s no loss of life, so we’ll take that as a win.  But we’d best get going.  There’ll be investigators, drones, dogs and all sorts of questions.  The fact that we saved hundreds of lives won’t be considered.  As they say, ‘no good deed goes unpunished.’” As we scampered down the trail, I had one question for Muley, “You said you would give it ‘the old college try.’ I know you didn’t go to college.  What college were you referring to?” “Well, it wasn’t exactly a college, but it surely was an education.  It was Ranger Sniper School.”


“I need to show you something. I know this is going to be a lot for you to take in, but it’s time for you to see them. I have been… afraid, to show you some of the things in these videos. I don’t know why. I think I just know I have to get it right; I need to get it right… for you and for me. I’m going to do my best… I promise.” “ Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Michael. Happy birthday to you.” “Who’s that?” “…That’s your mom.” “Oh... I didn’t think I had a mom.” “Everyone has a mom, buddy.… You just don’t remember her… she’s been gone for a long time.” “…She’s pretty.” “Your mother was the most beautiful woman… inside and out. And she loved you very much… I see her in you, you know.” “How can you see her in me, dad?” “Well… I see her in your eyes, mostly. You have her eyes, so blue and bright. I hear her in your laugh… she had the most beautiful laugh. It was so infectious, every time I heard it, I couldn’t help but smile. And you have it too. But I see her in everything. I see her in every part of you… This was your first birthday. That’s what’s on this tape. Your mom worked so hard to make it perfect for you. She made a little cake for you, just so you could smash it with your little fists. She invited half the town… all for you. She loved you very much.” “Where is everybody?” “What do you mean, buddy?” “You said she invited everybody to the party. Where is everybody?” “Oh, right… You see, the night before your birthday, we got a terrible snowstorm. Worst one in at least ten years. We must have got at least a foot of snow... Well, nobody could come because the roads were so bad. Your mother was so upset because she wanted your first birthday to be perfect. And she was worried that if nobody would be there for your party, it wouldn’t be. But she was wrong… it made it even more perfect. It was just the three of us, and that was all we needed. The electricity went out, but we just lit some candles and sat close together to keep warm. And it was just the three of us. It was the most perfect day.” “Why are you sad, dad?” “I’m not sad, son. I’m happy. So very happy.” “Why are you crying?” “I’m just happy to see her again, that’s all.” *The television screen went black as the tape ended. The father puts in a new tape* “What’s this one about?” “This was when you were born. December 31. Our little New Year’s baby, as your mother would call you.” “I look so small then…” “You were small. You were a very small baby. I was worried you were too small, but your mother thought you were perfect. She just held you in her arms and smiled. And you looked back up at her with your blue eyes as if you knew her by name.” “Wasn’t she tired…she looks tired.” “She was exhausted, tired to death. But she just couldn’t take her eyes off of you. All through the night she would just lie and watch you sleep. I tried to get her to rest, I offered to watch you myself, but she just smiled and watched as you slept. She told me that she didn’t want to miss a moment of your life, even if you were just sleeping.” “…What happened to her?” “…She got sick when you were just a baby, not long after your first birthday. Things you’re too young to understand and I’m too weak to explain. She fought so hard. She fought for you, fought every day just to see you. And when she finally died, she made me promise not to hold on too tight. To be in the moment. To make new memories… without her…I have not kept that promise. I am sorry, both to her and to you, for that… but first steps are hard… and they take time. But the time has come…” “The time has come for what?” “…For us to move on…for me to move on, I suppose. Even if it’s hard.” “But I don’t want to move on, I want to stay and watch these videos.” “We will, buddy, we will. You don’t have to move on. You can stay and remember her forever, and I hope you do.” “When can I see her again?” “Every night, buddy. We can see her every night, the both of us, right here on this couch. And while she might not be here with us, we can still see her…the best moments of her. And someday, these videos, videos of your first birthday, your first words, your first steps, will all be yours, and you will be able to see her whenever you want. But for the time being, just wait for me to watch them with you, because I like to see her too.” *A couple weeks later* “I can’t believe it’s snowing, again! Nobody’s going to be able to come to my party!” “I’m sorry, buddy, but it won’t be the worst thing in the world. We still have some presents and a nice cake.” “I know… but I just hoped all my friends would be here…and grandpa. It’s my sixth birthday, it’s a big day.” “You’re right, it is a big day. That’s why I got you something, something special.” “You’re letting me open a present early!” “Just one.” “What is it?” “It’s a camera. You’re growing up quick… you’re already six years old. You’re going to be making memories soon, the both of us will, and with this, I can capture every single one. And we can add these new memories to the old ones, and maybe your mother will be able to see them, too.”

*The lights flicker and go out* "The lights went out, dad." "That's ok, buddy. I'll keep you warm."


Gazing out my office window, I decided it was too nice of a day to sit eating lunch in my office. Plus, I needed a break from my desk phone and email. Grabbing my leftover coffee and my packed lunch, I head down the steps and leave my office building. I walk into the courtyard that sits next to some sidewalk vendors. They too are out enjoying the lovely weather in hopes of drawing in customers.  I decided it really was a nice courtyard with several benches, memorial plaques, tables, chairs, and umbrellas all surrounded by beautiful flowering trees, manicured bushes, and flowers. I silently chastise myself for not enjoying this scenery more often. I tend to get engrossed with my work and realized my step count and neck and shoulder pain were tell-tale signs of this. Maybe I’ll go for a stroll too, I could use the leg stretching. But first, hunger prevails .

Opening my lunch, I remove my chicken salad wrap, yogurt, and carrots. I dig in as I realize I’m hungrier than I thought as my stomach starts to growl in anticipation. I eat,

enjoying the nice breeze and sunshine.

If I had a hammock…an after lunch nap wouldn’t be all that bad in lieu of a walk. Sighing, I finish my yogurt and swig the last of my leftover coffee. I need to get some water to chase the coffee down. Thinking I’ll go to a vendor I decide to buy a bottle of water rather than head back inside to my office…besides, I see my favorite quiet crush working today at the bookstore cafe.

I grab my trash and phone just as I hear an electronic ping. This could either mean another email or something else. Sighing, I look down at my phone and realize it isn’t an email, but a notification from a dating app stating that someone is interested in me.

Ah dating apps.

They are a humorous new way to get yourself back out in the dating scene.

Mostly comic relief for me.

I open up the notification and scroll to the interested party.

Sandy blonde wavy hair, chocolate brown eyes with a hint of mischief that you could get lost in.

Ball cap in one pic, riding a bike in another, holding a puppy (perks) in another, enjoys working out, quiet nights in and home projects.

Mathew is worth the like. He states that he also works and lives in town.

Another perk.

Feeling brave, I decided to send him a message…”I am impressed with your profile.

You have nice eyes”. I type out.

Pretty standard response.

Oh please be real and not a robot…  Not expecting a response back, I settle back in my chair and enjoy the sun.

Ooh this sun is making me so very drowsy…ugh my eyes are heavy… I hear another ping, and looking down at my phone,

I open the app.

There are bubbles as I can see he’s typing a response.

“Gee thanks!” He replies.

“I’m kind of new to the dating app scene and thought I’d give it a whirl.

I see that you too are in my town.

What sort of fitness activities/extracurricular activities do you enjoy?

I see from your profile that you run and also bike.

Plus you like dogs.

You seem great in my book!

And btw, you have great eyes too!” Leaning back in my chair I debate a response.

He seems perfect.

Definitely has a handsome face.

“Thank you!”

I replied.

“That is very kind of you. I do enjoy running but not long distances anymore.

I just do it for stress relief.

Power walking and hiking with great scenery and biking are also things I enjoy.

Love lifting weights too. So how long have you had your dog?

I’m a sucker for dog lovers.

So, since you live in town, maybe we could meet somewhere casual and public and see where things go?”

I’m amazed at my bravery, but I was feeling bold with Mr. handsome face dog lover. After a few more message exchanges, we decided to meet up Saturday for a fitness hike and a casual lunch in an open outdoor restaurant.

Saturday comes and I look forward to meeting Mathew aka handsome face dog lover.

We soon hit it off.

It was really easy to talk to him and I very much enjoyed our time together.

Our Saturday afternoon came to an end, but we agreed to go back out Saturday night.

This time to a nicer restaurant and a movie. We met again, and truly enjoyed the movie.

We laughed, talked and went to get coffee.

Just as I’m walking to my car, he gives me a hug then grabs my hand and says he has truly had a great time and hopes to continue seeing me.

I tell him I’d like that.

He reaches for my face and pulls me close…in for a kiss.

I can feel his face and his lips on mine.

He kisses me and I lean in for more.

His kisses are becoming wet.

Rather wet.

Like… dripping on my hand.

***************************************************************** What in the world?

Is that slobber on my hand?

Eww.

It’s at this moment I startle myself and shake my head, realizing that I had fallen asleep in my chair in the sun in the courtyard and drooled on my hand that was propped up against my face. I quickly look around to see if anyone saw me and feeling like a fool, I try to compose myself.

It was such a nice dream too!

Oh well.

Mr. Matthew aka dog lover in the dating app seems to have vanished from responding back to me.

Just as well.

I never have luck with these things anyway. Thirsty.

That’s what I remembered before I drifted off to sleep.

I need water. Oh yes….I was going to go grab a water bottle from the bookstore cafe and my quiet crush. I walk up to the cafe, and again notice that my quiet crush is busy working the lunch crowd.

He may not notice me.

But I’ve noticed him for a while.

He always seems so nice to everyone and so helpful.

I overheard him saying one day to a customer that it’s his 2nd job while going to pre-med.

So he’s also a hard worker.

It’s no surprise that I’ve got a quiet crush on him.

Sandy blonde wavy hair, chocolate brown eyes you could get lost in.

Sometimes wears a

ball cap.

Appears to work out. Maybe I’ll actually talk to him this time… I wonder if he likes dogs?