Two kids sitting in a brick wall, smoking, laughing, and listening to music. Coffee nights and slumber parties. Movies and drinks after an awful week. That’s what Joe meant to me. I still remember how terribly sad I was when we first met and how terribly alone he felt. I’m not sure I can ever forget him, even though the face of my once best friend is blurry in my mind. I remember the black hair, the pale skin that reddened with too much sun or without on the cold days. I remember how tall he was and how we could talk about nothing and everything. Joe died three weeks ago, but for me, he had been dead for years. We had been mad at each other for a few months, almost a year. I thought it would eventually go away and we would go back to the happy best friends we had always been. That we’d find some common ground. He didn’t like that I belittled my efforts to get out of the city, and I didn’t like that he always chose to stay in it, even when he could go away. Our city was a horrible place, but it was all Joe knew. For a couple of years, I guess we both could see the end coming, but we looked the other way. Right after I moved countries and left our two-bedroom apartment, that’s when it started. Whenever I came to visit, I stayed in my old room, now re-baptized as the “guest room”. On a specially warm December when I came to visit my parents, I also paid a visit to my old friend. ‘Look at it’ Joe said revealing a tiny orb of onyx with words inscribed in it ‘isn’t it beautiful?’ I looked at the sphere but didn’t touch it. It looked beautiful indeed, but there was something else, something evil about it, or rather untrustworthy. ‘Where did you find it?’ ‘Oh, we have been excavating this site for a while and they said I could have it’ ‘I’m not sure the museum would be okay with that’ I suggested ‘you want another beer?’ I said on my way to the fridge. The apartment was weird now. Joe had made a couple of changes to the room, there was a new couch, my old room was now the TV room and outside the window a big blue and white screen shone upon us, advertising toothpaste and junk food. ‘Okay, they don’t know it exists, but hey, I deserve nice stuff too’ he said ‘no thanks’ he answered as I took a beer. ‘How are things with Ali?’ I asked to change the conversation. He sighed ‘Not good then?’ ‘She’s fine…’ his voice trembled ‘she won’t do it again, she promised this time would be…’ ‘What?!’ I snapped ‘come man you can’t keep…’ ‘I don’t care really, we all make mistakes, right?’ he said trying to sound happy, but his face was far from it. ‘Not for the third time’ I whispered. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?!!’ Joe snapped. I stopped listening for a second, drawn in concern. ‘Don’t give me that look’ he said. ‘What look?’ ‘Like I’m crazy’ ‘Hey, what do you think about this beer I bought? It’s good isn’t it?’ I tried to change the conversation. ‘I love her,’ Joe admitted ‘she’s not that bad’ ‘Fine’ I said. ‘I just want you to be happy’ It would take a while before we met again, he knew how much I disliked Ali and her occasional cheating. She was not a bad person, but I couldn’t say they were good for each other. He would become depressed or angry when this happened and she said she would never do it again, then after everything was fine, Joe would avoid her and ignore her for weeks. He always hated listening to my opinion, so I tried not to give it. A year passed by and I returned for another warm December at my parents’ house. On my last night, we had a big fight, one of those you can only have with someone who you have known for a very long time. It’s funny, the worst fights are the ones that never seem to make sense, I swear I don’t remember why we fought, only fragments of it, all I knew is that he had started it and that he was going to finish it! But he never contacted me, so we never talked again. I never heard from him, he was, as good as dead. I must have received a thousand calls from my boss on the day he died for real. So when I was just returning home to my puppy, a Labrador retriever, and I was finally free of all the madness on the telephone, I decided not to answer it anymore. My cellphone must have rung about a dozen times before someone decided to leave a voicemail. It struck me as something important then, so I listened to it. It was Laura, Joe’s mother. She couldn’t speak properly, her voice trembled and broke at uneven times, and you even could hear the tears coming out of her words. ‘It’s Joseph,’ she finally managed, ‘he’s dead’ My heart sank. Dead? No, of course not, he couldn’t be, dead. I fell to the floor and started crying, the baby Labrador, Leo, came running to my side. He, he couldn’t be dead. That was the worst night I’d ever had. I didn’t fully believe it until I saw him in the casket. He wore his usual combed black hair, a long beard, and his brown leather jacket. It was him without a doubt, he was dead and there was nothing I could do. When they heard about Joe’s demise, the museum he used to work on send their condolences, alongside a request to his mother about a missing artifact. Laura wouldn’t dare to visit his old apartment again. Not since she found him lying dead on his bed, with blood all over the carpet. She asked me to go instead, I could take anything I wanted and if I was lucky, look for the damn sphere. I walked down the dim-lit corridors of the city streets the next afternoon until I reached the huge apartment complex where he used to live. The automatic door was locked so I had to press a button to call for the guard to come to open up. He took a few minutes to arrive, and every damn second he did my discomfort grew bigger and louder, like an express hot pot. What was I doing there? Joseph… we hadn’t talked in years… and now his mother wanted me to collect his stuff? To look for that damn piece of onyx? This didn’t feel okay, but there was I, diving into the mud one last time for Joe. Just like I used to when we were teens. The outside facade of the building unnerved me. It was a wreck, the paint was old and stained, peeling down. The automatic glass doors wore scratches, like scars, and the lights were out. It used to be a yellow building, with lots of light and nice glass doors. I wondered where all that had gone. The guard opened up and guided me to the tiny apartment. He opened the door and left, running like a mouse being hunted by a cat. As soon as I stepped in I understood why the guard had left in such a hurry, the place smelled like rotting food and decay, like a stagnant feeling of the putrid coming for you. There was no light but I tiny ray of dying sunshine that filtered through the curtains. I went into the dark, blindfolded, naked. I tried to reach for the lights but the power was out. So I opened the curtains, and the window and let the fresh air rush in along with the sound of traffic. The place was no better on the inside, if anything, it looked messier. There was food on the walls and broken, dirty dishes on the ground. Clothes were left behind all over the place and a briefcase was vomiting books and socks. I knelt over the things, it seemed to me, like someone was in a rush to leave. A loud noise made me jump, and my heart beat fast. The door closed at the same time cold air filtered through the window. ‘A ghost’ I thought for a second, but of course, it was a stupid thing to think. I looked around the living room. A rush of laughter came to my memory. Old pop songs and indie music, the smell of beer and smokes. I looked at the table where Joe and I used to sit down, drinking and smoking the night away. Talking about nothing, yet talking about everything. It had been a long time since I left that tiny apartment, but somehow I felt like looking at a broken home, a place that used to feel safe and soothing, now torn apart by time and lost love. I used to know the exact time of the evening when the bus stopped outside the building complex and people would get out and cars would start shouting that they couldn’t get out in that part of the street, I used to know how to do the coffee in Joe’s old french press so that it wouldn’t stick or get bitter. I even got used to the blue light of that screen outside! But now everything looked different, strange… unfamiliar. The cars made no noise and the giant screen now projected a flashy annoying red light. My favorite part was the guest room, aka the TV room aka my old room. That’s where I used to stay whenever I didn’t want or couldn’t return to my parents’ house, way before I even moved in. ‘Stay, that way I can pay you all of what you’ve done for me’ Joe would say ‘you don’t have to pay me back. You’re my brother,’ I’d say. I still wonder, where did all the kindness we had of each other go to?’ I carefully reviewed the living room, the kitchen and the guest room. I made a list of everything in every room. I even took photos with my phone and all. I felt like an intruder, checking on the drawers, the book stands, and shelves. I was looking for stolen property, looking for memories, photographs, or something that reminded me of my lost friend, but all I ever found were the thousands of books I had gifted him. Most of them remained unopened and that made me sad, for he had lost the opportunity to live through other eyes, through visiting other worlds. I saved his bedroom for the last. I didn’t want in, every time I looked at the door I felt a chill running down my spine. His mother found him half dead unable to do anything to save him, blood spilling out of his left arm that had stained the white carpet as if it were a canvas. I was sure the red oils would still be there and that I would be able to make up his silhouette. I’d have to get inside eventually, but I avoided it for as long as I could. It was a long night, after all, everything I was at the moment was a robber trying to find something valuable, but not wanting inside the obvious place it would be in. I half slept on the couch in the TV room. Voices kept coming to me, happy ones, reproaching ones, songs, and white noise. At two am I heard a noise, coming in from the main room. At first, it startled me and gave me goosebumps, it even filled my heart with unnatural pain. I wanted to run, but it was time. I approached the door and opened it wide. An empty bedroom greeted me. There was a closet, an old tiny TV and books spilled all over. The bed had its white sheets spread around the room, still stained with blood. ‘Shit, Joe!’ I shouted ‘why would you…’ It took me a while to make up my mind, I wanted to leave, never to return. I couldn’t though, not if this was to be the last thing I did for Joe, or his mother anyway. I looked in the closet and the drawers of the TV room. Nothing, not even in the toilet’s water tank. The sun was coming up when something hit my left foot. It was the onyx sphere sliding itself through the room. ‘What are you?’ I asked closing in on it. I reached my hand to take it and leave. But the tiny ball was more untrustworthy than ever. I reached for a napkin and a cloth and I grabbed them. The thing violently moved and tried to escape my hands, it tossed me to the sides until I realized it. ‘Fine’ I said ‘I don’t know what the hell you are, but you leave me alone’ I felt as if a bucket of ice pierced me. The sphere or that thing, whatever it was, started shaking from the other side of the room. It stopped looking at me and looked at something behind me. I swear I could see a lonely gruesome eye on it. I turned around to see what grabbed its attention. A white, translucent figure appeared before me. Combed hair and a long beard. Dressing in old clothes but wearing a distinctive leather jacket above them. He looked sadly at me and to the floor. ‘I’m sorry’ we both spoke at the same time. I laughed and shed some tears ‘I should have called’ I said ‘And I should have been less on an asshole’ Joe answered. ‘You alright? Wherever you are?’ I wanted to know. ‘I’ve been better and I’ve been worse’ he raised a white spectral finger and touched my forehead. And I saw it. I saw the forests and the deserts. I saw my grandmother and the times when she was a kid. I heard the noise of the downstairs avenue and then I saw two lost kids in the middle of a strange city, two brothers, but one was gone. ‘That thing, it did this to you?’ Joe nodded. ‘I’m gonna miss you too’ his ghost answered. ‘Don’t worry, we won’t let it take you too’ his voice changed, it turned cold and lifeless. At the sound of these spectral words, a thousand ghosts filled the room, all wearing clothes from other time periods, some talking, some looking as if they just woke up. They all had cuts on their wrists, just like Joe’s. ‘So you didn’t?’ I asked. ‘I don’t think I did’ Joe answered ‘you must go’ I walked to the door ‘Take this,’ Joe said, handing me his journal, some old photographs and his favorite pen. ‘This might help,’ I said and gave him the ankh around my neck. I never took it off. ‘Goodbye, Joe’ I said as I opened the door. ‘Goodbye, Em,’ he said with a smile. The door closed behind me and I left the building. A long time passed before I dared talk about that night or before I understood what happened, what it all meant. At least I got to see my friend for the last time.


Would the meek and mild ever triumph, so love could find its way? Fabio drove to his day job as vet, wondering. That morning, he had awoken in the usual way, surrounded by the smother love of his Zia Gabriella, or Gabby as she was affectionately known in his little 'hood. Long ago and far away now, Fabio had become an orphan, so his father's older sister had brought him up, family first. Fabio brushed off his trousers, covered with cat fur again.He did love all creatures great and small, hence his vocation. Zia Gabby had taken to feeding a vast array of stray felines in the suburbs, in his little corner of the world. The cats understood Italian quite well, and dined on pasta Bolognaise in different formats. "Let's face it," Fabio told himself, "we're all in a good paddock! Not exactly malnourished. No dumb arguments from me." He patted his developing pot belly, and started his day of healing fur  and feather, with a compassionate smile for all his pet owners. At the age of 35, every Sunday, Fabio dutifully drove Zia Gabby to Mass, still feeling like the oldest altar boy in the Church. He walked before the parish priest, a good shepherd, as he held the bible of the Holy Word. It was what it was, the days of an ageing male, devoted to his vocation. Brushing  off more pet fur when he arrived home, Fabio commenced upgrading a website for his voluntary job. You guessed it, he spent his spare time at a homeless pet refuge. It desperately needed more funds for pet food, more foster owners, more volunteers for pet walking and socializing, to feed the fur pals, and to clean their pens. "This is a sign of the times," Fabio reflected, as Zia Gabby was cooking up a storm in her kitchen, surrounded by her adoring cats, waiting for their pet bowls to magically fill up with food again. Other people in the community were having to confront the emotional chore of surrendering their beloved fur to the refuge in their suburb. The local Food Donation Center was trying to collect tins of pet food, but this was a battle for all pet lovers. On Saturday afternoon, Fabio was there, at the homeless pet refuge, as a new volunteer breezed in, with a smile for everyone. She, too, was slightly vertically challenged, and soon commenced walking dog duties with Fabio. Lucinda was her name, a really lively chatterbox. Bemused, meek and mild Fabio was soon fascinated by her entertaining company. He did not quite know how to respond, when Lucinda shared that she was an atheist, modelling her personal philosophies on Bertrand Russell, hoping to be a humanitarian. She kept on chattering away, sharing her opinions of living in the universe. Strangely, after one walk with the fur boys together, for want of anything romantic to say, Fabio showed Lucinda all his phone photos of Zia Gabby's cats. He did not think any more of that, so he went home, no dumb arguments planned at home or anywhere. Maybe he was a star-crossed lover wannabe. Realistically and practically, he could just envisage his voluble Zia meeting an atheist. Zia Gabby was not exactly inclusive. But by six pm, there was the front door bell. At the door stood Lucinda, smiles aglow. "Who is this?" Zia Gabby asked, "A disgrazia?' Lucinda entered, saying, "No, Zia Gabby, I'm a good girl. Look, photos of my kittens. I've come to meet you and your cats. You are a legend!" Soon, coffee and almond biscotti were flowing. Fabio had no dumb arguments, as the chatterboxes really got on so well, bonding over tales of their love for furry friends. Lucinda finally drove off, honking her car horn, after half an hour of goodbyes with much embracing. "You come back soon!" Zia said, glad for this new friendship. "Bella, bella!" Zia Gabby sent their surprise visitor home laden with plastic containers of pasta and home-cooked biscotti, and a crochet cat jacket. Fabio stood amazed by this by this turn of events in his otherwise devout mild day. Zia Gabby went indoors, and made several signs of the cross in front of her array of plaster saints. "Grazie, dio, now I can have a brag book of babies, real ones!" Really, Zia Gabby had been quietly praying that Fabio would end his days as a permanent bachelor. She had been losing face with no cute baby photos among her peer group of coffee gals, the gossip clutch of their neighborhood. Fortunately for all concerned, Lucinda soon regarded Fabio as walking sex on legs. No, Fabio was so meek and mild, he had no dumb arguments. The reader might say he never took one step back from his love finding its path. Better late than never. Holy nuptials followed, with a beautiful bride, a very proud and happy bridegroom, and more photos for Zia Gabby. Love had found its way, so Fabio kept on praying for Lucinda to have some belief. It was the true magic of the universe, star-crossed lovers meeting in some chance coincidence. Fabio could imagine a rosy future ahead, surrounded by love and permanently covered in cat fur. Acceptance at last. Amusing really, the happy couple's kitties were bilingual, understanding Italian and English. Zia Gabby never arrived empty handed, soon Lucinda's cats had matured to eat both pasta and best chicken mince. The felines were even known to enjoy Chinese takeaway. Malnutrition was definitely not a problem in this version of the family circle magazine. Cultural competence had somehow made it in the 'hood. This little family soon had a thousand reasons to smile, despite Fabio being the oldest altar boy in Christendom. Crochet cat boleros and bandanas soon gave way to hand-made layettes, kept away from cat fur. It was all so humanitarian, of course. Zia Gabriella held her own in the entire 'hood, so thankful that she could hand over Fabio and his pizza and pasta bar to Lucinda. Perfect, they all agreed that they would not discuss religion. But the  kids were all baptized anyway, each way bet. They were all animal lovers too. There were never going to be any dumb arguments from Fabio, always so meek and mild.


I could not believe I was at Comet Pizzas. It had to be the worst place in town. I didn’t expect to go to some five-star steakhouse or anything but seriously? This place has been shut down twice by the health inspector. The last time I ate here I was five at Becky Smith’s birthday party and got food poisoning. It was brutal. Twenty screaming five-year-olds all puking.

I was here for my first date with Scott Owens. Ever since he moved here at the start of the year, I’ve had a crush on him. Me and about half the girls and some guys in our grade. More if you counted the whole school. I was so thrilled when he asked me out. I thought we would just go to the movies or something. Maybe grab a slice of pizza from any other place in town. I know he just moved here, but he had been here for a few months at least. He couldn’t have picked better?

“You excited May?” I faked a smile and nodded at Scott, scared if I spoke I would let my true feelings show. “I’ve wanted to take you out since the first time I saw you.” I didn’t have to fake my smile for this. Scott was super cool and hot, and for some reason he liked me. May Nelson, the total dork. I smoothed out my skirt and followed him inside.

Oh god, the smell.

There were a few people there. It was so dirty. Like this was seriously concerning. How could Scott think this was an ok place to bring a date?

“Um, I just have to go to the bathroom real quick,” I told him. Scott nodded.

“Cool. I’ll see if I can get us a table.” He gave me a smile and I totally melted.

I walked into the bathroom and almost threw up. This was awful. There was literally a pair of dirty underwear on the ground next to one of the stalls. I gagged and pulled out my phone. I looked up Comet Pizzas and sure enough, it was the lowest-rated restaurant in town. I then called my best friend Erin. She answered right away.

“Are you ok?”	Erin said sounding very concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just that... well Scott brought me to Comet Pizzas.” “Wait, I thought Scott liked you?” Erin said and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah me too! I don't know, he must not have realized how gross it is here. I’m hoping he’ll realize and we can bail.” Erin laughed.

“Fingers crossed. I’ll pray for you.” “You don’t pray.” “Yeah, but Comet Pizza is that bad. The last time I went there I was ten after a soccer game and spent the whole time puking. So prayer.” “Ok Erin,” I said rolling my eyes. At least I was smiling. I said goodbye and prepped myself to go back out there.

It did smell less in the restaurant than in the bathroom which was good. Scott had already gotten our table and he waved me over. He stood up when I got to the table and didn’t sit back down till I did which I thought was the cutest thing.

“So, um, why did you choose this place, Scott?” I asked in what I hoped was a casual way. Scott smiled and his whole face lit up.

“So, my uncle is actually the owner. I’m living with him while my parents are overseas. My mom is a scientist and she’s in Africa studying different types of monkeys. So here I am. Anyways, whenever we visited here growing up we always ate here. It’s nice cause it’s super familiar when I’m away from home. I figured you’ve probably eaten here before so I thought it would be nice for you too.” Ok, it’s official. I’m an awful person.

“Yeah, um, I came here for some parties and stuff over the years. I don’t live that close though so not too much.” This is at least true. I live on the other side of town and since Scott picked me up he doesn’t question it and instead just nods.

We continue chatting and I find out we have a lot in common. The food wasn’t too bad and seemed fully cooked which is an improvement from the last time I came here. The night was actually going perfect until Comet Pizzas proved its low rating and I started throwing up. It was bad. I started crying and ran to the bathroom. Scott called after me but I ignored him.

I hate this place! There was a knock on the bathroom door then Scott poked his head in, his eyes closed.

“May? Are you in here? I don’t want to open my eyes because it’s the girl's bathroom but are you ok?” “Go away, Scott,” I said, wiping my eyes. I dug through my purse for my mints and took three. “I’m gonna have someone pick me up you don’t have to drive me home out of pity.” “Pity? What? May you got sick. That’s not your fault.” “You’re right! It’s this stupid restaurant's fault! Everyone knows this place is awful Scott! The real reason I don’t come here is that every time I have I’ve gotten food poisoning!” I covered my mouth with my hand. I can’t believe I’ve just said this. I expect Scott to get angry and leave but instead, he laughs.

“Are you alone?” I frown but nod. Then I remembered his eyes were closed and spoke.

“Yeah.” “Ok good.” He opened his eyes and walked in. “May, I know the food here sucks. I have taste buds. But my uncle begged me to come here tonight and even offered to give us a free dinner.” “But...” I just stared at him for a minute trying to find words. “I thought you loved this place?” “I was trying to make it seem like I didn’t realize how awful it is so you wouldn’t be mad at me for bringing you here. Every time I come here I pray that it’s better. Pro-tip, the chicken doesn’t taste too good but I’ve never gotten sick from it.” I laughed a little. I had thought it was weird that he got chicken at a pizza place.

“Look,” Scott rubbed his neck seeming nervous, “I really like you. And I want to go on a lot of dates with you that aren’t here. Would you be ok with that?” I nodded, smiling.

“Yeah. I would be.” Scott grinned at me. “Cool. Now, I have an extra toothbrush in the car because I thought someone might get sick tonight. I’m gonna grab it for you because I’d really like to kiss you.” I blushed. I’ve never kissed anyone before.

But a few minutes later when we left, my teeth freshly brushed, Scott pulled me close to him and kissed me softly.

“Can you promise me something” I whispered when he pulled away. He nodded. “Can we just get takeout next time?” Scott laughed and kissed me again.

“I think that can be arranged.” He promised, pressing his forehead to mine.

“Perfect.”


Once upon a time, in a cozy little house filled with love and laughter, there lived a sweet little girl named Courtney. Courtney's mother and father, Mr., and Mrs. Brennan, were kind and loving parents who always smiled and often joined in our games, pretending to be a part of our little circus party.

I was usually a stand in on family game night when Courtney’s silly big sister was too cool to play Scattergories with us and would go over one of her girlfriend’s houses for a sleepover.  Either that, or her sister thought I’d beat her, and she’d be too ashamed to walk around the house among the Scattergories champion.  That was one of Courtney’s favorite board games.  She loved to write and come up with words that start with C like her name.  Anyway, we were a happy family, and life couldn't have been more perfect.

I had the privilege of being Courtney’s dearest friend since she was just a teeny tiny tot. From the very first moment she laid her eyes on me, we formed an unbreakable bond. Together, we laughed, we played, and we shared countless adventures. I taught her how to fasten and unfasten a button when she was learning how to put her overalls on and off.  I showed her how hard you have to push down to snap her buttons or her hair clips.  She hated those darn hair clips, but her mom wanted to make sure her hair didn’t fall in her face.  We learned how to tie shoes together.  That was stressful, but we made each other laugh.  I think my best moments were just being there, telling her not to be afraid of anything.  Those were the days.  I miss those days dearly. But as time passed, life had its way of bringing changes. As Courtney grew older, I found myself ‘sitting on the shelf’ more often, while she ventured into the world of friendships and hobbies. Nevertheless, I cherished every moment we spent together, and I knew she did too, for she would never let go of me completely.  I was her best buddy!  We went literally everywhere together.  The pool, the beach, the park, friends’ houses, movie theatres, mini golf—you name it, we’ve probably done it. One fateful day, a dark cloud descended upon Courtney’s household. Mr. Brennan fell seriously ill, and despite the best efforts of the doctors, he eventually passed away. Courtney’s world was shattered, and grief enveloped her like a thick fog. I watched her from a distance, my soft heart aching for the sorrow she was enduring. The house felt emptier than ever as Courtney returned to her father’s home after his funeral services.  As she wandered through each room, memories flooded her mind.  Then she saw me and as she hugged me, tears streamed down her face, but a faint smile appeared too.  Memories of our happy times together began to emerge, and she clung to me tightly. “Hello,” she whispered, her voice a mixture of sadness and joy. “You were always there for me when I needed you.” In that moment, something magical happened. It was as if the bond we once shared was reignited, and I could feel her emotions flowing through me. I knew I had to be strong for her, just like she needed me to be when we played together when she was a kid. Over the following days, Courtney and I spent hours reminiscing about the past. She told me stories about her dad, the adventures they had, and the love they shared. I listened intently, offering silent comfort, and understanding. She cleaned and organized the house, but at the same time, she cleaned and mended her heart too. I was there that time when Courtney fell off her bike for the first time.  Her dad let go of the back of the bike, and she was doing good, and then that darn stone came out of nowhere, and off she flew.  It felt like she cried forever that night, but her dad fixed her up with a Band-Aid and we watched Rainbow Brite and all was right with the world.

Or the time when I was almost lost at the park.  We played on the swings and the tire pyramid, and she left me in one of the tires all the way at the top because I was the pharaoh and she was Cleopatra, queen of the Nile.  So, her mom had to come back and search the whole park.  I didn’t leave her sight for weeks after that. I think my favorite memories were watching Saturday morning cartoons together and eating Cheerios.  Cheerios and Oreos were staples in Courtney’s life.  She was never really a tea party type of girl, but we certainly had Cheerios picnics regularly. Oh, what about the time, we went to the beach and Courtney was eating cheeseballs and feeding them to me and the seagulls.  Her mom was not too thrilled about that, but her dad told her to throw them closer to the ocean if she was going to feed them to those obnoxious birds.  Eventually Courtney’s mom stopped letting her bring snacks to the beach. I’ll never forgot the Christmas where she got the Totally Hair Barbie, and she was so excited because the Barbie had hair like hers.  Long and blonde and pretty, and for a whole week, I barely talked to her and all I kept hearing about was how pretty Barbie was, and how cool she is.  I think I’m still trying to block out that Christmas because I definitely felt like I was losing her. Courtney reminded me about the time she went to girl scout camp, and I felt extra excited because it was my first bonfire, and we ate smores!  I completely forgot about that one, although, I’m not sure how I forgot because I helped her sell all her girl scout cookies that year so she could go on that trip.  I was also there every time she got scared of the fireworks every 4 th  of July.  She loved the lights, but the booms were terrifying.  But I won’t tell anyone that she was probably scared of them until she was almost a teenager.  That’ll stay just between us.

As the days turned into weeks, Courtney’s tears gradually turned into smiles. She found solace in the memories we created together, and I was grateful to be a part of her healing process. Together, we celebrated her father's life, cherishing the happy moments they had shared. With time, Courtney decided to honor her father's memory in a special way. She started volunteering at a local children's hospital, bringing joy and laughter to the young patients, just like her dad had brought joy to her life. I happily joined her on these visits, and together, we spread smiles to those who needed them most.  She brought all the toys from her childhood that she found in the attic, and I was so happy to see Totally Hair Barbie go to a new little girl. Though Courtney’s father was no longer with us, his spirit lived on through her acts of kindness and the joy she shared with others. As for me, I was no longer just a plush clown doll; I became a symbol of strength, love, and the precious memories we hold close to our hearts. And so, dear reader, this is the tale of how a little girl's plush clown doll helped her find the strength to overcome grief and carry her father's love with her always. Our bond remains unbreakable, and I'll forever be grateful for the gift of being Courtney’s companion and confidant.


Holidays are always happy times for all to enjoy family and friends for many years to come but this year proved to be one of extreme difficulties for all. The COVID virus has plagued the entire world and the way we interact with others has changed and we all had to make adjustments. Tom has expressed how depressed he has been since this whole thing started. In an effort to make things as normal as possible, Claire and I decided we would still have our annual Christmas Cookie Exchange party as usual.              The invitations were sent to just a few select friends and family members because the gathering had to be kept small. Everyone invited had responded with more than enough recipes making sure there would be plenty of cookies for all. Since Tom was having such a hard time, I decided to make this year extra special for him. He is the secret guest of honor.              Tom and Chris have been in a relationship for over five years. They had been discussing marriage but had never made anything official. Since Tom had been feeling really down, Chris felt this would be the perfect venue to pop that magic question. Chris had discussed the idea with Claire and I and we were ecstatic that he chose our annual cookie party as the perfect opportunity. The only catch was that we had to keep the secret from everyone so it would be a surprise to Tom.              Claire got right into the holiday planning spirit and put on her romantic hat and changed a few of the decorations to make them more about marriage with Christmas colors. We had the traditional bells of holly, wreaths, and candle centerpieces all laid out with a beautiful gift box right in the middle of the table that was decorated with wedding bells in Christmas colors. The seating chart had everyone taking their respective places with Tom sitting right in front of the gift box. Cinnamon wax melts in all the warmers was the finishing touch. Now it was time for Claire and I to get into our outfits.              Claire adorned herself in her red and white Mrs. Claus dress complete with the red and white hat. I put on my green elf suit and we were ready. We started the Christmas music to get everyone in the mood. The Christmas tree was lit with beautiful festive lights dancing all around it. Tinsel was glistening making everything sparkle. Now we had to wait for our guests to arrive.              I dipped up two cups of spiked Eggnog for Claire and I to enjoy while we waited. Just then the doorbell rang. We both jumped up to greet our first guests. It was Julie, Pete, Jon, and Ted. Their arms were filled with tins with bows. We knew that these tins held their prized Christmas cookies for the exchange. We placed their tins on the gift table and seated them at the table according to the seating chart.              The next guests to arrive was Sally, Will, Chaz, and Anita. They too had arms filled with many tins that took their place on the cookie table. That’s when the guest of honor arrived. Tom and Chris were wearing matching Santa Suits with Christmas bows of holly pined to them. It was so cute! Claire and I were busting at the seams with excitement. Everyone in attendance was going to witness the best event of the year and no one was aware it was going to be happening!              Tom and Chris took their places at the table. Claire and I served up a light Cesar salad, tomato bisque soup, with Turkey, Chicken, and Vegetable wraps with peach punch to wash it all down with. We all enjoyed wonderful conversation as we gobbled down our light meal in a hurry to get to dessert. I couldn’t wait to drop several of those cookies in my mouth!!              Claire and I cleared the table of all the dishes and cleaned up everything. We brought out the dessert plates and prepared for the next portion of our party. The excitement was bubbling forth inside me and I couldn’t take it anymore so I invited Chris into the kitchen for a brief conversation.              Hey Chris! Can you help me get some of the napkins from the kitchen?              Sure thing Layna!              Off to the kitchen we trotted. Once there I whispered in the softest voice I could, “So how are you going to pop that question?”              Oh Layna. You are always wanting to know everything before it happens. Girl just wait and see how it unfolds. Thanks a bunch for placing the gift box in front of Tom’s spot for me. That box is where everything begins.              Did you tell that to Claire? I asked.              Not at all. You know if she was aware of what she was doing that someone would know something by now!              Chris laughed and began walking back towards the dining room. Come on girl, let’s get the rest of the festivities out of the way.              We both chuckled and headed back to everyone in the dining room. Claire had already prepped the table for the cookie tasting and exchange. Everyone went around presenting their cookies and telling the story behind why they chose that recipe. Then came the big moment. It was Chris’ turn to present his cookies to all. He handed Claire his iPod player and told her to play selection 9.              “All I Want for Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey began to play. Tom instantly lit up! This was his favorite Christmas song of all time because it was playing the first time Chris and he had met. That’s when I realized how romantic and beautiful this moment really was. I had to fight back the tears that were ready to stream down my face as I watched Chris begin to speak to Tom.              Tom, my beloved. This year has been one of the hardest of times for you and I know that you did your best in dealing with the distance we have all had to endure. You have lost your job that you loved and thought you would never reinvent yourself but you did. You are now working from home in a comfortable space. We have kept to as normal as a life as possible with all the things going on with COVID. When you came down with the virus, I thought I would lose you. But you told me that there was nothing that could take you away from me and you eventually returned home from the hospital.              Things seemed to be doing well and that’s when my job took a turn for the worst and I had to be furloughed for six weeks. You thought we were going to have to sell our home but we made it through that. Then the worst of all, we lost our beloved dog Bleu. We both cried for days and nothing in the house seemed the same. But a few days ago I came home with another teacup mini whom you promptly named Fancy because she pranced all around the house! In keeping with the spirit of Christmas, I have another gift for you. Please, Tom, open the gift box sitting in front of you.              Tom, who was now in tears, took the lid of the beautifully arrayed gift box and immediately screamed, “Oh My God, Chris!! I Love you!!” and he jumped right out of his seat and ran and hugged Chris. We were all sitting around looking at them in amazement but did not know what was in the box.              Claire said, “Oh Tom! You must let us see what is in the box!!”              Tom, shouted, “Oh! I completely forgot!!”              We all laughed as Tom went back to the table and took his seat. He then pulled out what was inside the box. It was a large cookie shaped in the form of two bells with lots of glitter and glam with a blue ribbon tied around it. On one end of the ribbon was a ring tied to it and on the other end of the ribbon was a note pasted to it that said, “Tom, will you marry me?”              We all cried together as Tom told Chris that he would marry him. It was the most romantic experience I had the pleasure of being a part of. We danced and sang for the rest of the night. Tom and Chris were very happy and it melted the hearts of all.              At the end of the night, we bid each of our guest a blessing with their own personal tins of Christmas Cookies and the joy of knowing they witnessed the miracle Christmas joy can bring even during a pandemic.


       I guess the way it came about was that I was looking through some old negatives in my father’s darkroom. He was quite a photographer in the days before digital cameras and cell phones came along. He took a lot of pictures for fun, but also did some free lance work for a couple of newspapers and magazines. He kept at it until the digital cameras came along. He didn’t want to betray the cameras that were his old friends, and he didn’t want to learn about a whole new technology in his late 60s. So, he stopped.         His death, years later, hit me hard. We were on good terms, I guess, but there were conversations I wanted to have with him that never happened. His darkroom in the basement of his suburban Chicago home was a place he spent so many hours, and in an odd way I felt connected to him in there.         Under the red “safe” lite I saw there was a folder with negatives in it marked “Daily News.” I took one of the negative strips out and put it on the light board to see it more clearly. I guess a lot of people my age and younger have never seen a photographic negative. They are acetate strips of 35-millimeter film that have pictures on them, except opposite. Everything black is white, and everything white is black. When the negatives are printed the pictures come out just as they appeared the day they were snapped.         One frame looked interesting. It showed two men in suits talking with each other, but nobody else was nearby. Just for fun, I put the negative strip into the enlarger and blew up that section of the picture and made a print. I had already mixed up the chemicals – the developer to bring the image to the white print paper, and the “fixer” to make the image permanent. The smells brought back memories of the hours I spent with Dad in his darkroom, learning the ins and outs of it all.         Within a few minutes the image was developed, and it was safe to turn on the light. The paper was still wet, but what I saw in that picture made me do a double-take. What I saw couldn’t be real, but it was.         I dried off the print, put the negative strip into a special folder and hid it inside of a book. Then I went upstairs and sat in the kitchen for a moment wondering what to do next. Should I call the local police? Nah. They wouldn’t take me seriously. They still think of me as a weird kid with a skateboard, even though I don’t even know where my skateboard is anymore. That was 10 years ago.         Besides, this wasn’t a local thing. It wasn’t a county or state thing either. It was national, and maybe international. I decided I needed to contact the FBI. There was a problem, though. Over the years the FBI had become so politicized that something like this might get buried or mysteriously lost or destroyed. Or the messenger might get shot.         Then it occurred to me that my best bet was to get the photograph to the right media source so they could make it known to the world. But who would that be? It was getting harder to know who was reliably doing news versus supporting whatever administration was in power.         I remembered that my college roommate, Charles, had a friend who did a lot of investigative reporting. He didn’t seem to have strong political views but was always trying to find the truth about things. So, I called Charles. He gave me his friend’s email address along with a second, “secret” email address, “just in case.” I didn’t know what he meant by that.         Here’s what I wrote to the guy, whose name is Mick Jackson:

“Dear Mr. Jackson,   My name is Oscar Morganford. I’m a friend of Charles Lakeman. He gave me your contact information so I could share something important with you. My father was a freelance photographer for several news magazines in the 1970s and 1980s. Going through some of his photographs after his death last May I stumbled on a picture that clearly shows then Vice President Murphy speaking at an event near Chicago with the man who eventually assassinated President Anderson.      As you may recall, then incoming president Murphy claimed never to have met the assassin – a man named Marcus Williams. This photograph proves that to have been a lie and leads to the possible conclusion that Williams killed the president at the behest of Murphy.      I’m turning to you with this information because I am unsure how to proceed without putting myself in danger.              Please advise.         Sincerely,         Oscar Morganford         Less than five minutes later I got an email from a different email address with nothing but a phone number and the initials MJ.         I called the number and the person who answered had his speech slightly garbled to avoid detection. We arranged to meet in a concourse at O’Hare Airport the next morning. He said he would be wearing a disguise as an elderly woman and would be wearing a purple felted scarf. I said I would not.         I bought the cheapest one-way ticket I could find so that I could go through security to meet him. I had no intention of traveling anywhere. The traffic, parking, and the TSA line were all about normal, by which I mean slow and frustrating. I made my way to the concourse and the gate number he’d given me.         We sat next to each other in the waiting area outside a gate where a plane was boarding. He really did look like an elderly woman. I tucked the manilla envelope into the bag she or he had placed on the floor. I got up and left and she or he went to board the plane.         I got my car out of the short-term lot and made my way back to my dad’s house. When I got there, I turned on the TV and saw that an airplane had been shot down just outside of the O’Hare Airport air space over lake Michigan. I went to the bathroom and threw up. Then I packed some things, grabbed the negative of the photograph, and raided the large salt-glazed stoneware pot where my father kept his “safe” money, and hopped on my bicycle. I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I couldn’t stay there, and I was pretty sure they, whoever they were, knew my car license number. I stopped at a coffee shop and put on my baseball hat and sunglasses. It wasn’t much of a disguise, but it was the best I could do. I never expected to be a fugitive on the run.         I sat and thought. Somehow, despite his efforts to remain undercover, Mr. Jackson was clearly being surveilled. Now I was on their radar too. Worst of all, I didn’t know who “they” were. I did know that someone who would have their president assassinated to become president and would have a commercial aircraft shot down to keep from being exposed wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.         So, I did what I had to do. I tried to go viral. I made a new Facebook account and a new “X” account under an assumed name: TrueJustice. Then I took a photograph of my father’s picture and posted it on both sites with the following message:         “The plane that crashed today was shot down. On that plane was investigative journalist Mick Jackson. He had been given a photograph showing former President Murphy talking with assassin Marcus Williams, who he swore under oath he had never met. Someone doesn’t want that picture made public. Too late! This is that picture. No edits or manipulations have been done. Did Murphy have our then president killed to become president? I don’t know. But I do know that President Murphy lied under oath. I also know that his hand-picked candidates have ascended to the presidency after his two terms. Were they involved? I don’t know. Who shot down that plane? I don’t know. I’m just the guy who still has the negative. – TrueJustice.”         I posted both messages and got back on my bike. I couldn’t go back to my dad’s house. And, I had to ditch my phone and buy a burner phone. I took a Lyft ride to a big truck stop on Interstate 80. I walked around looking at the trucks. I found one with some conspiracy theory bumper stickers on the back and walked up to the cab. The driver had a gnarled face and wore mirrored dark glasses. He looked at me suspiciously.         I told the guy what was going on, and that I was in real danger from the feds or somebody, and he welcomed me in. I think I made his day. He was going to Phoenix and invited me to come along for the ride. He also wanted to hear all about my TrueJustice posts. It took a few hours before anybody read either one of them. My alter ego had no connections, followers or subscribers since he was just a few hours old. Before long, dozens of people saw it, and then hundreds, and then thousands. The FBI sent a direct message asking me to get in touch with them. I didn’t.         Facebook shut down my account on the second day. “X” did not, and the number of people reading my post cruised past a million. Congress set up a special counsel to investigate the whole thing. They really wanted to talk to me, but by then I had purchased a new identity from a guy named Luis who I met in Phoenix. At least for the time being Oscar Morganford didn’t exist. Tony Tantano was my new name. My beard was coming in nicely. I was ready to start a new life.         Eventually I figured out how to monetize my “X” account and now TrueJustice brings in more than enough for me to live on. Somebody even came up with a line of clothing, made in the USA, with “TrueJustice” as the logo. They send 10% of sales to me. I’ve hired a manager with that money to investigate other corruption in the government and elsewhere.         It looks like the past three presidents are going to go to jail, along with their top advisors and some of their donors, all because of a photograph my father took, probably not realizing the importance of it. I hope a lot of other people go to jail too. Our country shouldn’t be run by corrupt politicians and powerful people who were never elected. It may be too much to hope for, but so far things are looking up.


“Hey Tammy, are you busy?” Clarke asked as he steps into Tammy’s cubicle. Her internal eyeroll is engaged with this constant question from those above her in the totem pole of office politics. She wishes she could ask them: “don’t you pay me to be busy?” Minimizing the document she had open on the right side of her double monitor, she turns to Clarke. Tammy is famous around the office for what everyone has taken to calling “Tammy’s waterfall”. She places all of her “to-do” paperwork on the left-hand side of her desk. The least important items are at the bottom and each successive project is layered on top of the others with just an inch of exposed header so she knows what is next and it cascades down the desk until it is almost falling off of the desktop at its height. She knows Clarke couldn’t have missed the excessively large pile of paperwork to her left. “What can I do for you, Mr. Kent?” “How’s your day going? Did you have a good weekend?” While she thinks the obligatory small talk to lead into the favor is a nice gesture, she truly is busy and wants to dive right into the “ask” that has brought him to her cubicle. “It was good. How was yours?” A very detailed story followed. Her hand was poised over the mouse itching to move it to her open task list but she knew it was rude to continue to type while he regaled her with his hiking adventure and Sunday golf game. She gasped in all the right places and put an emphatic “oh” in when it was required and cheered at the fact he had come in under par; but, in her mind she was calculating what she could get done if she skipped lunch and stayed a little late. When it felt like Clarke was wrapping up, she smiled and nodded. “Was there something you needed?” “Oh yes. Do you mind coming in my office and taking a look at something for me? I’m having that problem with my excel spreadsheet again. I always swear I am going to take better notes next time you help so I don’t have to ask.” Tammy locks her computer screen and follows him into his plush office. She shows him again how to fix the problem and attempts to return to her desk. She is stopped by Susan at reception who thrusts her cell phone into her hand, “look” is all she says. It is a Facebook post with a picture of her soon-to-be-ex husband with the girlfriend that ended their marriage. Three angry rants and two consolatory hugs later, she starts back to her desk. Before she can get logged back into her computer, the phone begins to ring. Super Needy Client needs her help right away. She talks her down off her proverbial ledge while she pulls back up the files she minimized nearly an hour ago when Clarke interrupted. It is a letter. Her letter of resignation. She reads the opening paragraph again. Then closes the file. She is so tempted to just send it. Send it today. Make this the first day of the last two weeks of this decade long job. She doesn’t really despise the job. She genuinely likes most of her co-workers but she did it this weekend. She watched the show. The documentary about the person who quits their 9 to 5 job and reduces their life to one sleeping bag, two matchboxes and a radio and goes to live in the woods and finds their long-lost passion of leaf art and now lives off the tiny leaf-art income and feels fulfilled and joyful and at one with nature. She picks up the forms at the peak of the waterfall with the matching task in her system and starts her research on the resolution. She is technically making a difference for the person who is on the other side of this paperwork who needs her help. She isn’t performing life-saving brain surgery but how many actual people can say they are brain surgeons? Someone has to process the brain surgeon’s forms so they can keep brain surgeoning right? Tammy feels guilty about abandoning the stack but she has to go the bathroom and maybe heat up her lunch to eat at her desk. She gets corned by Hilda from the office next door to hers which shares the public restrooms. Hilda has to tell Tammy about her daughter’s new baby. She takes her back to her office to show her pictures and cry. Miraculously, Hilda’s phone starts to ring and Tammy mouths: “I’ll see you later. Beautiful grandbaby!” and she escapes back to her own office. In the break room, while heating up her frozen meal, Jake strides in and asks her what she is having. He spends twenty minutes on his new workout routine and diet regimen. It’s called Paint Your Palette. He does twenty minutes on how his breakfast is all yellow foods, lunch is all green foods and dinner is a protein power shake that is red. She teases that Jake should throw in some Mac and Cheese orange to round out the palette or some chocolate chip cookie brown. Jake laughs with her. When Tammy reaches her desk, her lunch is cold again.

Somehow her day is escaping her grasp. She imagines her tiny lifeboat and the waterfall of paperwork is about to capsize it. She takes advantage of the after-lunch coma of her fellow cubicle workers and attacks the waterfall with fervor. In two hours, she’s made a dent in the form stack. The ear pod in her ear is her theme music and her foot is tapping to the beat unheard by her fellow cubicle neighbors. Tammy has a second wind, and it takes her to and past closing time. The others leave with a flurry of “see you tomorrows” and she pushes through two more projects before she scoops up the paper left in the stack and files it away. Before she shuts down her computer, she pulls the letter file back open. She looks around the mostly empty office. On her other screen, she brings up her bank account balance. She looks between that and the letter announcing her two weeks’ notice. It’s a possibility. She writes an e-mail to her boss and attaches the letter. She stares at the computer screens for a long time. She pulls a Snickers bar out of her drawer and downs it in a few bites. Her finger hovers. She hits send. She better start practicing her leaf art.


Kailani was starting to become the love of my life but now I felt as if I was dealt a hand of cards I can’t place on the table. One night I found her in her apartment beaten badly with laceration marks covering parts of her body, her clothes had been ripped and in her own blood the word pain had been written on her stomach. Seeing my baby like this really tore me down to shreds, the doctors are saying she’ll be lucky if she wakes up but I know for a fact that Kailani will wake up. She is a strong fighter.

Amber you know she had all this set up just to make it look like she was innocent! Kailani wouldn’t do that Ariana! Amber yes she would! Your eyes are deceiving you and you are falling in her trap! I want you to be honest with me. Do you love her? Of course that’s my homegirl. I need for you to tell the police she had a robbery staged and made her side piece stage everything so people would feel sorry for her. Why would you even say that? Because i’m the one that had Milo rob the apartment and do the damage to her! The police are starting to unravel the truth and I can’t have my brother locked up. We have a business to run and I refuse for things to get any worse than they already are.

I won’t do it! You gon do whatever I tell you to do, did you forget about the bet we made? It’s not like your secrets are safe either Amber. I don’t have any secrets that people don’t already know. Does Kailani know you had her brother kidnapped and Milo was the mastermind behind everything? Yeah like I thought, now we go do things my way I don’t care what you think you got on me, just know that what I got on you and Milo will destroy y’all lives. If I have to go down so will y’all. I’ll tell everybody about what you did and i’ll even turn myself in but I refuse to allow kailani to wake up and be in handcuffs for something she did not commit. You got the wrong one today, I will make sure you are locked up before she wakes. She is in a coma more than likely she won’t remember anything that happened however it is my duty and Kareem duty to make sure she nevers remembers this part of her past. So you bold? I was bold Ariana, you just now figuring that out? We no longer have anything to discuss i’ll see my way out not before I finish the job on little Ms. Kaiani. Good luck trying to touch her. What is that supposed to mean? It means that when you ask for her number to her room there will be a police officer asking who you are and once they find out you’ll be locked up right along with Milo. It’s funny you say that. I guess it is funny huh? Well you see I did some work of my own on my own time without you noticing. What type of work is that? You will have to see for yourself just know if you try to kill me you will be going to prison for first degree murder along with attempted murder. You set me up! No I didn’t set you up you should just be more careful who you spill your secrets too sweetie I can’t lock you up because I am still undercover. When Milo gets wind of this he is going to kill you. Poor baby I guess you didn’t get the news Milo is dead. Amber I hope you rot in hell! You played everybody! For a second I thought you were in love with me. Silly me love has never worked for me and I'm afraid it never will. Not my problem but you can see your way out my friend crib. We don't tolerate people who break the law and then try to set other people up. You and Milo played right into the deck of cards except this time you're the deck of cards nobody wants to deal with. Kailani you're awake! Who are you? I’m your boyfriend Kailani, you don’t remember me? Everything seems to be a blur. I honestly don’t remember anything. I’ll get the doctor. Kareem before we head back into the room your girlfriend is in I want you to know she has long term memory loss so she probably won’t remember the day she was beaten and raped. How bad is she looking? Well she did lose the baby, it’ll take her a few months to recover fully and be able to recognize the people who love her but I know if you continuously stay around her and try to help her regain her memory of you and her she will slowly but surely start to remember about the love yall once shared.

Dr. Harris I know this is a bad thing to say but i’m glad she lost the baby I didn’t want her to have to give birth to a baby especially when she was forcibly raped. I understand where you are coming from but as Kailani’s doctor I'm telling you to only bring up happy memories not bad memories, the bad memories could make her have an anxiety attack and she might not recover the same way as everybody is expecting. Kailani you have pulled through some of the toughest battles me and a couple nurses didn’t think you would pull through but your boyfriend here told us to have a little more faith in you. I’m glad we did you are indeed a strong fighter. Um doctor I don’t have a boyfriend. Kailani it’s going to be a long road to recovery but Kareem and your friend Amber will be with you every step of the way.

Who did you just say? Your friends Amber and Kareem, Ariana couldn’t make it. I remember the name Ariana. When I was out of it I could see a girl standing over top of me and cutting inside my stomach and reaching her hand down in my blood and spelling pain on my body using my blood. Kailani? Are you okay? Make it stop! Please make it stop! I don’t want to hear that name again! Kailani if you know something, say something. I don’t want to remember please stop! Dr. Harris if she says she doesn't want to remember then leave her alone. Alright fine, i’ll be back in a couple hours to see how she is doing. Kareem is Kailani doing okay? Amber what happened that night? Why? She is starting to remember bits and pieces and she just had a breakdown in front of the doctor. All she kept saying was she didn’t want to remember. This is worse than I thought it was going to be. Have you locked them psychopaths up yet? Milo was taken in yesterday morning and they arrested Ariana an hour ago. I’m thankful for that however she will not be testifying that night was horrible for her, I don’t want her to remember those events of her past. I want her to be able to start off new and fresh. She won’t need to testify we have them on other charges as well. Like what? First degree murder, arson, attempted murder, assault & battery. They are looking at a lifetime in prison without parole. I will make sure they don’t see the daylight again. I know at first I gave you a hard time and I just wanted to apologize you were just doing your job. No need to apologize. We have to keep pushing for Kailani sake. She deserves better and we have tried to redecorate the apartment to make it look new so no images of that incident pops up. I totally agree with you one-hundred percent. I’ll send you a check so you can get everything and I'll help you when everything gets delivered. Kailani? Yes Kareem? Thank you. Why do you say thank you? For being my hero. I didn’t do anything worth being a hero Kailani. Yes you did you saved me, even when the doctor tried to make me remember a past so traumatizing you stood up for me. I love you to an infinity and I'll never forget this day. I never want to remember the past. It was dreadful and clawed my skin every chance it got. I know what happened but I choose not to remember a crazy past like mine. I just want to move forward with my life and move away so i’ll never ever have to remember anything that took place in my past. I can make that happen baby I love you more than anything i’ll always be by your side no matter what.


‘Do you want to be doing the same old thing day in day out?’ Jessica said.                She sat across from Mark at a table in the Holo-arcade. It was the only thing that was real in this place, probably. He insisted places like this were for kids, but Jessica could never imagine something like this in her old land, she loved it. The arcade floor was a bustling expanse of activity, divided into different sections, each dedicated to a specific genre. Hidden projectors cast shimmering beams of light that danced across the room. Stunning 3D images shattered then rematerialized mid-air, captivating the senses. Patrons moved from one zone to another, their eyes wide with wonder as they interacted with the HoloForms. In one corner, a group of friends engaged in a fiercely competitive HoloDuel, their gestures and movements translated into dynamic battles that unfolded before them. Nearby, a young child giggled with delight as she reached out to catch a classic pixelated unicorn that pranced through the air. ‘It’s not really the same thing is it mate, one day could be a dungeon – the next it could be some Necromancer’s tower,’ Mark said. ‘The only difference there is elevation. If we pull this off we’ll have a cushy hustle going for the rest of our lives,’ Jessica said. Mark’s eyes narrowed as he studied Jessica’s face, he still hadn’t forgiven her for her latest prank. Neck deep in an orc ambush the shifty wizard thought it’d be hilarious to pass him a healing potion that had about four tabs of LSD in it.. by the end of it there were 63 mutilated pink elephants, and the orcs wouldn’t stop singing tiptoe through the tulips no matter how many pieces he cut them in to. ‘Hmm, usually when ya say something that sounds amazing I end up in a tutu,’ Mark grumbled. ‘That was one time and you loved it,’ Jessica smirked. ‘You’re just jealous I have the calves to pull it off.’ Mark said. ‘Yeah yeah. Look, ever since our worlds smooshed together the rift creatures have been branching out,’ Jessica said. ‘Smooshed; Is that a fancy wizarding term? How do I know this isn’t normal behaviour for those rifties, they’re from your side of the breach,’ Mark said. ‘The Rift Ruptures fundamentally changed everything. Look at The Neon Harpy, it has a Dryad and a Gorgon working there. She’s a forest dweller and he’s a cave dweller – neither are known for their customer service. Now look at the pair, she animates wooden toys onto customer’s plates, and he blasts them into spaghetti,’ Jessica said. The Neon Harpy was the hottest place in town. Mark had tried getting a booking there once, but he wasn’t going to wait two years for spaghetti no matter how it appeared on his plate. They were swimming in money though. ‘Are we going to rob that place?’ Mark said. ‘Better, we’re taking their money and removing them all together. We’ll need to bring someone in to pull this off though,’ Jessica said. ‘You’re not takin the piss are ya… this will work?’ Mark said. ‘Our intel on the subject is good, our rivals were trying to scalp her prior to the Rupture. Just don’t take any weapons, that includes combat sleeves, it’ll send the wrong message,’ Jessica said. ‘Righto,’ Mark said.                Mark locked his Omni-riffle and deactivated his plasma grenades. He let out an undulating whistle and slapped his leg. ‘Here boy,’ Mark said. Rex uncoiled himself and bounded over to the pair, his pixelated faceplate showed a bright yellow smiley-face. His chrome tail rocked from side to side as he loaded the ordinance into his carry-space. Mark held out his palms ‘Date night’.                His thick metal fingers elongated forming sharp points as dozens of other fingers unfurled themselves along the length of the arms. Two red circles appeared above and below his shoulders and the heavy black Ergonite arms popped free, crawling their way to Rex like giant metal centipedes. A slender pair of flesh coloured arms scuttled from Rex, fixing themselves into Mark’s empty ports. The red circles flashed to blue then disappeared seamlessly. Rex sat back on his haunches and waved his forepaws playfully at Mark. ‘No golems either,’ Jessica sighed.                A modulated growl rumbled from somewhere deep in Rex as the pixelated smiley-face morphed into an angry skull. ‘Ya know he hates being called that; I wouldn’t give him the shits if I were you,’ Mark said. ‘I’m not worried about something with an off switch,’ Jessica said. Mark chuckled ‘You’ve got a lot to learn about AI. Anyway, what’s the plan?’ Mark said. Jessica placed an ornate paper scroll on the table then fished a NanoLink from her bag. Mark looked over the scroll, but his eyes kept sliding across the eye-bending glyphs. A warning blinked through his HUD – Warning: InfoHazzard detected. Mark wrenched his head away before his eyes decompiled and pushed the scroll into his Stomach-Safe.

She passed him the black cube ‘You’re meeting with Anabelle. Impress her, show the contract. Everything else you need is on this Link. If you run in to trouble say the indicated phrase and offer her something valuable.’ ‘So, you won’t mind if I run this passed Everett - Make sure you’ve got this wizardy stuff down pat and there’s no dodgy stuff going on?’ Mark said. ‘Be my guest, he said he was assessing the magical properties of some mushrooms the locals recommended,’ Jessica grinned as she pointed to their companion. Mark followed her gaze and saw the Mage was having an animated conversation with a golden tree. ‘Ah crap, Rex guard Everett. Restrain and resuscitate if things get wild. Taze this one if she tries anything,’ Mark said. ‘What? How’s that fair?!’ Jessica said. ‘Just use the off switch’ Mark winked. ***                The subway tunnel stretched out before Mark, a dimly lit corridor disappearing into the distance. The ceramic-tiled walls stood tall and sturdy, their off-white surface interrupted by patches of graffiti. The intermittent lighting fixtures cast a soft glow, creating pools of illumination that seemed to dance along the tunnel's length. Hollow roars and rumblings from deep in the tunnel network washed over Mark, punctuated by an incessant Click-Clack, Click-Clack from the other side of the walls. Mark’s HUD overlayed a neon red line on one of the tracks that stretched into the distance – Warning: Exposed High-Voltage . This was his fourth left-turn which made no sense from a public transport perspective but given the reviews his feed showed he wasn’t going to rule it out just yet. If this is another one of Jess’s pranks I’ll feed her some SynthSpider eggs, see how much she laughs when she shits spiders for a week. The Link flashed a right-turn across his HUD, he pushed on for what seemed like hours before he came to a large juncture in the tracks. Several tunnel entrances yawned hungrily in the dim light. The walls were rougher here, climbing into a thick darkness that gave the overhead cabling the eerie sensation of weightlessness. Cool air buffeted Mark from different directions followed by the deep thundering of nearby carriages. The NanoLink vibrated softly in his fingers. >>Activate. The black cube folded apart, each square side housing inky nanotendrils that waved around small red globules. Jess’s tiny voice echoed from the Link, one instance playing over the other until six concussive flashes shattered the device. ‘Just what this maze needs.. more magic’ Mark muttered.                He felt a heavy rumble approach and pressed himself into a maintenance alcove. Mark was sucked forward slightly as a wall of blurred light and steel crashed passed him. The train vanished as quickly as it appeared, zipping commuters to where-ever they needed to be. Mark stepped out into the dim light again but stumbled back as a gigantic, scaled tail smashed itself across the entrance nearly decapitating him, it pulled back and stiffened like a spear. Is that thing pink?!  Mark ducked as ruined tiles rained down on him. He quickly rolled forward and levelled his arms slightly below the tail as the darkness swallowed it. Shit, wrong sleeves. A loud banging sound rang out from somewhere far down the tunnel. Every few seconds a burst of sparks splashed across the subway floor. He leapt into the middle of the juncture just as a car engine skipped down the tunnel like a stone on a pond, nearly liquifying him. A resonant voice echoed from the yawning apertures. ‘You will fail hunter!’ ‘I’m not hunting anything!’ Mark said. ‘Lies! You use the old-magic like the hunters of my homeland.’ ‘I’m not from your land, I was pulled through the Rifts as well!’ Mark said. ‘Is that so?’ the voice purred from the middle tunnel.                Mark turned and saw black smoke roiling out of the darkness, sliding up some unseen barrier that had formed across the archway. The thick smokey spirals twisted into armoured shapes that chased a giant winged reptile across a rocky crag.                His HUD flashed a warning, but it was too late. The train erupted from the smoke, clipping his right side. He spun several times and fell to his knees. Mark looked over his wrecked shoulder as the silenced column of steel plunged out of sight.                The giant tail whipped out of an adjacent tunnel and sent Mark sliding across the compact gravel. Fuck this. Jess’s phrase swept across his HUD. ‘Shal'karis Zarok'eth!’                Silence filled the cavernous juncture before a sibilant giggle filled the void. ‘Oh, you’re definitely not a hunter.’ ‘Fancy that..  I’m looking for Anabelle,’ Mark said. ‘You found her, what do you offer?’ Anabelle said.                Mark pulled the paperwork from his battered mid-section ‘I’ve got a contract you’re going to be interested in, it’ll make us all rich.’ ‘We’ll get to that one later, you claimed the rite of Shal’Karis, lets conclude that first.. unless you come as a pauper,’ she practically spat that last word. Hmm Jess said something valuable. Tallies blinked through his HUD, showing the same answer. Mark sighed ‘Ahab’. His right leg disconnected whilst he pressed the manual releases for his right arm. He doubted it’d receive voice or neural commands at this point. Mark held the pair over his head. ‘I'll give ya my arm and leg, mate. They're top-notch bionic gear, worth a fortune, mate! With 'em, ya could buy a couple of castles, or just flatten 'em if ya fancy,’ Mark said.                The bright pink tale snaked out of the tunnel off to his right. It had shrunk significantly since it tried to impale him minutes ago. It wove its way up his leg and coiled around his waist before it lifted him off the ground, pulling him quickly toward the gaping black. ‘A unique and flattering offer. I accept your offer to mate.’ *** ‘Mark? Mark! Thank The Grim you’re back. You’re toy keeps trying to zap me every time I go to leave, and I need to pee!’ Jessica shrieked. ‘Oi, Rex, take a breather... sorry about that, mate. Sometimes he goes all literal on me, doesn't he?’ Mark said. Jessica leapt from her seat ‘Oh mercies you’re a lifesaver.. geez what happened to you?!’.                Mark’s shirt was in tatters, deep gouges across his chest shaped a bloody landscape of pain. Vivid bites arced up his neck and over his cheeks. His eye twitched involuntarily as he pointed to the pink scaled lady standing beside him. ‘Jessica, meet Anabelle. She..’ ‘Gimme a sec,’ Jessica said as she dashed behind an endless waterfall.                Anabelle’s head whipped about as neon purple eagles rocketed from one ear to the other before plummeting to her feet. The tiny constructs melted into a puddle and reformed as a duck that sauntered off into the ether. A smile rippled across her face as quickly clapped her hands. ‘Magical,’ Anabelle whispered.                Jessica joined the pair at their usual table and Mark pinged the galley. Seconds later a drone delivered a large basket of hot potato chips soaked with gravy. >Intercept .                Rex snagged the basket just as Jessica was about to grab a handful of deliciousness. ‘Hey, control your Golem!’ Jessica said. ‘I told ya not to give him the shits,’ Mark said.                Rex’s smiley-face morphed into a pixelated storm cloud that proceeded to rain hands with the middle finger raised as he taunted Jessica with the basket. A chrome tentacle uncoiled from its underbelly and injected Mark with a TetraPack. Relief washed across Mark’s face as the wounds slowly closed. ‘Jessica, this is Anabelle. She’s taken our offer,’ Mark said.                Anabelle's crown of elegant horns dipped slightly as she inclined her head. Her delicate scales shimmered with a vibrant pink hue that distorted the surrounding HoloForms to match her tone. ‘How did you hear about my.. change? I imagined once anyone found out I’d wind up mounted by hunters,’ Anabelle said. ‘You were a legend back home, I was naturally curious how the Rupture affected you,’ Jessica said. ‘So, Anabelle is going to help us take out The Harpy? Rain of fire and all that jazz?,’ Mark said. Anabelle’s eyes narrowed and her lips curled revealing rows of ivory daggers. Jessica chuckled ‘Wait, he doesn’t know.’ ‘Know what?’ Mark said. ‘The rupture affected Anabelle too, she can’t blast fire anymore... what she can do is be an amazing Chef, that’s how we’re taking out The Harpy,’ Jessica said. ‘The rupture switched her fire for recipes?’ Mark said.                Anabelle extended a clawed finger at a group of teenagers nestled in a command blister of a HoloTank on the other side of the room. Her jaws opened wide, and a thick column of hot brown liquid shot forth. The stream hit with precision, filling their empty HoloCups.                Mark dipped his finger in some of the liquid that sprayed across the table. His HUD blinked the results. Analysis: Chocolate. A broad smiled bloomed across Jessica’s face. ‘I’ve sourced a Ruptured elemental that will complement Anabelle. She’ll blast centre stage and it will make the chocolate move. Song and dance, grand battles where the customers eat what they slice away.. you name it!’. ‘Nice one… say, did you know Dragons could take human form?’ Mark said. ‘Haha no, I’d heard rumour though,’ Jessica said. Mark held out his hand to Rex ‘Give it here fella, lets not cause another blue.’                He grabbed the basket, pressing the empty capsules into his hand cavity and placed the delicacy on the table. Jessica grabbed a handful and chomped down. She closed her eyes savouring the taste.                A DM flashed on Mark’s HUD – Rex:> ‘Spiders?’                                                                        Mark:> ’Nah, scorpions.’


‘You know how the signs at the zoo say Don’t feed the bears?’ Nina held up her bulkily bandaged hand. 'There’s a good reason for that.' 'Wow.' Steve was practically stunned speechless. 'I’ve never met anyone injured by a bear before.' Nina caught herself before she could reply you still haven’t . This was too much fun to spoil. Having seen dozens of different doctors, nurses, surgeons and specialists about her injuries, she was bored of repeating the same story. When Steve asked about her hand, Nina got creative. Nina had a cheeky streak broader than the red-purple dye in her scruffy blonde hair. Growing up, she was frequently criticised for her overactive imagination . She’d visited Perth Zoo’s sculpted lawns and leafy paths countless times and loved feeding the greedy giraffes. She knew they hadn’t any signs about bears. No self-respecting zoo had enclosures so unsafe someone could get mauled feeding ham sandwiches to a grizzly. Nina had been sitting in the hospital coffee shop, enjoying her first latte in three days after being discharged when Steve had walked in. His black suit was too shiny to be exceptionally expensive and too stylish to be cheap and when he invited himself to sit at Nina’s table, she saw him take an interest in her bandages. He wanted to project successful lawyer , not l awyer with wheelbarrows of money . If he looked too rich, his clients wouldn’t trust him. Steve’s business card said personal injury lawyer, but for Nina, it might as well have read professional ambulance chaser . Having been burnt by past abusive relationships, she could smell when someone wasn’t on the level. Steve had asked her what she was reading, but Nina knew he surely made a habit of striking up conversations in the coffee shop. She figured she’d string Steve along for a little while. What could go wrong? Nina asked herself; it wasn’t like she was lying.

Maybe it had been a tiny oversight to mention bears, but Nina reassured herself it wouldn’t go to court and if she got another coffee out of it, where was the harm? This definitely isn’t a date, she told herself – admittedly, the guy was kind of cute, but had a date organised with someone else. *** Nina met Charlie the week before, on a humid evening stuck outside a secure car park. The shutters down, their cars were imprisoned inside. 'Doesn’t this place close at midnight?' Charlie asked. 'I thought so,' Nina agreed but was distracted by Charlie’s twilight-coloured eyes. 'Wait. It’s bloody Thursday!' Charlie exclaimed, startling Nina. 'They shut at 11.' 'I’m uncool; I’m never out on weeknights,' Nina admitted, worrying how she sounded to this magnetic stranger. 'Now what?' 'I’ll scale this lamppost, climb in, and rescue our cars!' Suddenly, Nina thought Charlie might try.

Charlie looked athletic, as if she enjoyed things like bouldering, but Nina wondered what kind of traction her scuffed Converse could have.

'I’m kidding!' Charlie insisted. Nina was further concerned Charlie might have noticed her looking worried. Was she messing this up? She compromised by calling the car park’s help number. After they paid to release their cars, Nina took a chance asking Charlie for her number. Charlie readily accepted though she struggled to read Nina’s cracked phone screen. When an incident with her cat left her bitten and bleeding like she’d badly lost an argument with a woodchipper, Nina took a rain check on their first date. Charlie was only concerned about why Nina needed to go to the hospital. Now Nina was letting this ambulance-chaser buy her a second coffee because of a story about bears. It’s nothing , she told herself. 'What do you think?' Steve asked, surprising Nina. Nina wasn’t listening. She’d been daydreaming, endlessly swirling her mocha with a plastic spoon and thinking about Charlie instead of stringing Steve along. 'My marshmallows aren’t melting properly?' Steve laughed; Nina was unsure if he was laughing at her. 'Look, dude, I gotta go,' she said. Despite moving to Australia from Munich 10 years before, Nina felt awkward calling people mate . Dude wasn’t much better. Steve found Nina’s faint accent and oddly dyed hair charming but knew he shouldn’t date clients, even if she wasn’t a client quite yet. 'I’ll call you Monday to discuss your zoo letter. Unless you want to meet sooner?' *** Nina arrived at Charlie’s waterfront apartments complex 25 minutes early. Frequently late from misjudging how long she needed to do everything, tonight Nina over-compensated. Pacing outside the gates, her jeans were still damp from the wash – she’d naively expected them to dry in time. She was a good judge of character, but other things were less well-considered.

Nina couldn’t buzz Charlie’s flat now; it was much too early and she’d look desperate. Instead, she could only kill time. As an old Italian lady entered the complex, she noticed Nina’s pacing and deliberately pulled the gate closed behind her with a suspicious glance. 'I wasn’t going to steal your bag, mate!' Nina called out, trying to sound more local. 'I’m glad to hear it,' said a familiar voice. Nina turned around, praying she was wrong about this. Steve would have recognised the short shaggy hair and bandaged hand on anyone. 'Were you threatening Mrs Giuseppe?' he asked. 'No!' Nina insisted, 'She acted like I was breaking in.' 'What are you doing? Are you here to see me? I don’t know how you found me, but this is inappropriate. You should have called.' Steve wasn’t sure he did mind that Nina had tracked down where he lived, and he was confident that what she wanted wasn’t his legal advice. Nina knew how she looked, loitering and yelling at old ladies. 'I’m not here for you,' Nina said, embarrassed. 'I’m visiting a...kind of date.' Steve raised one obnoxious eyebrow. 'A kind of date? Where does this sort of date live?' Suddenly Nina wanted to slap the designer stubble off his smug face. 'They live in unit 1.' ' They? Are they a split personality?' Steve’s smile was getting annoying. 'Thanks, technically correct man . She lives in unit 1.' 'Follow me,' Steve sighed. 'I’ll show you the way and make sure you don’t mug anyone’s Nonna.' Nina hesitated. Charlie was probably waiting, and this was easier. Steve didn’t wait for her reply. Unlocking the gate, he walked without a backwards glance. He didn’t close the gate but also didn’t hold it, and Nina hurried to keep it from slamming shut. Steve was unnaturally quiet. Glad of the silence, Nina looked around as she walked, noting a swimming pool and manicured garden beds. She was right that Steve had money. Steve stopped in front of a building and turned to Nina. 'Here you go!' That smug look again, but Nina was determined to be polite. 'Thanks,' she said coolly. 'I’ve got this.' 'No problem,' Steve insisted. Instead of walking away, he rapped loudly on the door. Nina was appalled, but before she objected, he unlocked the door. Nina realised her position when she saw Charlie in the hallway. 'Oh, it’s you,' Charlie said.

Nina’s heart sank at her unexpectedly lacklustre welcome. Then she realised Charlie was talking to Steve. 'Charlie, I met your date outside,' Steve said dryly. 'Nina, meet my little sister Charlie.' Charlie seemingly noticed Nina for the first time. Looking to Steve, then to Nina, then back to Steve, her face twisted in confusion and revulsion. 'What’s wrong?' Nina was perplexed. 'You know each other?' Charlie countered. 'No!' Nina replied quickly, her heart was audibly thumping. Steve jumped in: 'Nina and I had coffee earlier today; I think she’d just got out of bed. Either way, I’m taking her case about a bear attack, and now I’ve found her lurking outside. She said she has kind of a date, but I think she was looking for me.' Growing up with her obnoxious brother, Charlie knew when he was lying to wind her up, and when he knew the truth would annoy her more. 'You always do this, Stevie; quit messing with my dates!' With the argument intensifying like a cyclone, Nina felt like there was some history and sibling rivalry she had stumbled into unknowingly. More to the point, her night was going badly wrong. 'I don’t know what game you two are playing,' Nina shouted into the din, 'but I’m leaving!' Charlie apparently agreed; shutting the door in Nina’s face. *** Nina knew she’d look crazy if she stood outside the apartment door all night. Instead, she wandered about for a while until she found the pool, then sat under a light nearby. What could she say to fix this? She hadn’t admitted it to herself until now, but she sort of, kind of, maybe, just a tiny bit liked them both. Or had liked them both, past tense. Nina had achieved a certain unexpected clarity on that front now. It’s not what you think 🙁 Nina texted. Don’t care. Go away 😡 Charlie’s reply was immediate. Don’t want your idiot ambulance-chaser brother! I like you! Don’t use that word 🤬 'Like'? No, dumbass: ambulance chaser. It’s offensive It’s what he does? You didn’t ask me what I do Nina knew then that she’d messed up. Earlier in the day, Nina considered making Charlie a first date playlist but rejected it for being cheesy. Now she had a better idea. Opening Spotify on her phone, Nina created Playlist for C and started adding tracks. Hey girl It was a strong opener, Nina thought. Sorry Getting to the point quickly, so far so good. Hear me out I’m a fool Nina paused. This was turning out to be harder than expected. I didn’t mean to hurt you Please forgive me Nothing happened Don’t let me be misunderstood You’re the one that I want Waiting on you Nina pasted the playlist link into a reply and hit send. The night was warm and starry, and if she left now, she’d be home in time for watching Netflix with her overfed tabby cat. The following day, Nina tried to put Charlie out of mind. She’d messed up there, but life goes on. She was moving on, Nina told herself. Finding a free sofa at her favourite café, she’d barely started into her book when her phone pinged. Can I see you? Her heart leapt.

Grabbing up the phone, Nina saw a message from Steve. She then realised it didn’t say can I but instead I can . Nina looked up; Steve was leaning on the counter, waiting for his coffee. She knew this coffee shop was popular, and maybe she’d hoped its proximity to Charlie’s apartment might afford a coincidental meeting, but she hadn’t considered what might happen if the wrong sibling showed up.

Steve waved, and Nina conspicuously ignored him, putting her phone down and picking up her book. Before she could find her place on the page, Steve wandered over. 'Get lost,' she muttered angrily, half to herself. If it hadn’t been for Charlie, and Steve acting like a jerk, she could like him.

When Nina didn’t acknowledge him, Steve sat conspicuously nearby with a newspaper. Her phone buzzed again. Before she could throw it at Steve, Nina noticed the sender: Charlie. Nice playlist doofus 😊 Nina smiled. Forgive me? It’s weird 😝 Doesn’t flow *at all* Right OK 🙁 I like it. Made me smile, like you Nina was mid-reply when she pressed something wrong, and her phone started calling Charlie. 'No! Stop it!' Steve looked up from his newspaper. 'Are you seriously calling me?' Charlie’s voice was smiling, and Nina knew she liked this feisty girl. 'My phone does weird things, and I couldn’t make it stop.' 'That sounds awkward,' Charlie laughed. 'Do I get another chance to see you?' 'Maybe. You’re lucky you’re cute.' 'Charlie, let me take you to a gig tonight. At the zoo.' 'I wondered what you were going to say there, for a second.' Nina’s face flushed pink, blushing harder knowing Steve could see her. 'Meet me there, 7:30? It’s a special event, I’ll get us tickets.' 'Alright, doofus. I’ll see you there.' 'Hi, Charlie!' Steve Called out. Nina froze. 'Is that my brother?' Charlie asked, hanging up before she could wait for an answer.

Nina threw her phone down in frustration. 'Goddamn it, Steve,' she cried, 'You ruin everything.'  'You sound exactly like Charlie,' Steve replied. Suddenly his phone started ringing. 'That’s Charlie,' he sounded concerned. 'I don’t believe you,' Nina replied flatly. 'Hey,' Steve answered before being interrupted by his sister. 'She wants to talk to you,' he said, handing the phone to Nina. 'Are you having coffee with Steve? Again?' Charlie asked. 'No!' Nina insisted. 'I’m here alone with my book, I didn’t know he’d show up, nothing is going on, and-' 'Turn around.' Charlie stood in the doorway, still on her phone and a wry smile on her face. Nina kept talking into the phone, though Charlie could hear her without it. 'I swear, I only met him yesterday because of my stupid cat bites.' Whether it was Nina’s passion or seeing her, face-to-face, across the crowded café, Charlie visibly softened. 'I believe you. Tell me more about it tonight, and whatever this is about your cat.'

Nina smiled. 'This is yours,' she said distractedly, handing Steve his phone and walking over to Charlie. Steve looked from his phone to Charlie, then to Nina. The customers who’d been listening intently now pretended to be engrossed in their coffees. Not needing anyone’s permission, Nina enthusiastically kissed Charlie. 'Wait. What’s this about cat bites?' Steve asked.