I popped the top off my beer and swung my boots up over the porch railing. The night air swept across my rugged face and I sighed in its company. I leaned back in my chair and raised the bottle to my lips, bracing myself for the first wonderful sip of the night. It didn’t disappoint. I wiped foam from my upper lip and sighed again. Twice in one night. That had to be some kind of record. After a moment, I decided to allow myself some satisfaction. Things weren’t all that bad. Especially not out here in the beautiful country, away from the noise of the city. I skipped my eyes over the landscape splayed out before me. It was like a theater of wonder constructed exclusively for me. The trimmed grass of my backyard crawled an acre before rising waist high. From there, the field extended another two acres before the crowded woods overtook the terrain. Even from here, I could hear the leaves chuckling pleasantly in the late night breeze. Fireflies blinked lazily in the air, cheered on by a chorus of crickets. The air smelled of earth and recent rain. The sky was dark and filled with timid stars. The beer was cold beneath my grip. Yes. This was the life. This was the way a man should end a long day, surrounded by nature and silence, left alone to enjoy its secrets. As I took another pull from the bottle, I scanned the land over the glass lip. I paused, mid-swig. I squinted, beer frozen to my lips. I swallowed slowly and sat up, eyes trained toward the high grass. “What in the hell?” I muttered. There was a figure out there. A shape. It was white and contrasted the dark world surrounding it. It was moving. Walking. Left to right across my vision. Is that a person? I thought. The size was right. The way it moved telegraphed human movement. But the color was wrong. It was so damn...white. I placed the beer down on the porch floor and leaned over the railing, thinking the extra couple inches would somehow clarify this odd vision. As I did so, the figure stopped and seemed to be contemplating something. After a moment, it suddenly turned on its heel and began walking towards me. I remained motionless as it approached. My heart began to beat a little faster the more my eyes tried to focus on just what the hell I was looking at. It just didn’t add up. What I was staring at just didn’t make sense. The figure had reached the end of the tall grass and now traversed across my backyard. It was then that I knew I was looking at something absolutely absurd. It was a person dressed as an astronaut. The white suit they wore could not be mistaken as anything else. Neither could the helmet they had attached across the shoulders, the golden visor reflecting the dull night light. I stood my ground, completely baffled as to what to make of this strange visitor. I could hear the grass crunching quietly beneath their boots as they approached, their features hidden behind the large helmet. Finally, they stopped directly in front of me, a couple feet from where I stood at the porch railing. I said nothing, throat tight, and figured I’d let the trespasser speak first. When they did, their voice was male and muffled behind their visor. “What are you doing here?” I blinked in the starlight, fireflies swirling behind the stranger. The man in the space suit spoke again, a little more urgently, “I asked what you’re doing here.” I shook my head, unable to believe I had to defend myself on my own porch, “What am I doing here?” I sputtered incredulously, “I should be asking you the same thing! You’re standing on my property!” The astronaut stared at me blankly from behind the shielded visor, “I think you’re confused.” I barked a laugh, mind reeling, “Well, on that we can agree on! What the hell are you doing all the way out here and why are you wearing that ridiculous thing?” The man seemed confused, “What thing?” I snorted, shaking my head, and pointed at his suit, “That crazy space suit! You go to a party or something?” The man looked down at himself, at his gloved hands and covered legs, “Space suit? Is that what you see?” I reached down for my bottle of beer, needing a drink to make sense of this lunatic, “Yeah, the space suit. What else would I be talking about?” “I’m wearing a space suit…?” The man said again, his voice distant. I slugged half the bottle before answering, “Look man, if you need to call someone or something, I got a phone you can use. Something tells me you’ve been hitting the bottle hard tonight. Or maybe something a little more deadly.” But the man ignored my offer and instead trained his attention back to me, “Where do you think you are right now?” I spread my arms, “I’m sitting on my porch trying to enjoy a beer!” I leaned on the railing and lowered my voice, “Where do you think you are?” If the man gave any kind of reaction, it was hidden behind his golden visor, “You need to leave.” I was starting to get irritated, the night calm slowly breaking apart before my very eyes, “Look pal, you’re trespassing on my land. I’m not the cop calling type, but don’t push me. If you need help, I’d be more than happy to offer assistance. If not, then I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” The astronaut suddenly pointed behind him, his voice eerily soft, “Can’t you see it?” Confused, I looked past him at where he was pointing. Silent woods swayed against the breeze. “Yeah, beautiful isn’t it?” I offered, annoyed. The astronaut shook his head, “Open your eyes and LOOK.” “Now you listen t-” I growled, gripping the beer bottle tight in my hand The astronaut cut me off, “I know this is hard for you, but I need you to really look hard into those trees.” “Why?” I demanded. “Please.” Grumbling, I did as I was told, not really sure why I was doing it. I still didn’t see anything but the canvas of country light. The astronaut stepped toward me, “What do you see?” I waved a hand, snorting, “Nothing! There’s nothing o-” I stopped. My voice died in my throat. “What...the hell?” I muttered, feeling something stir in my guts. “What is it?” I blinked, scrubbing my eyes, feeling impossibility sink through to the core of my being. I licked my lips, my voice a croak, “Is that...a lighthouse?” I rubbed my eyes again, convinced I was hallucinating. But no matter what I did, the lighthouse remained. It towered high above the treetops, its white walls topped with a dark roof. A faint light glowed from its summit, swirling across the landscape.. The astronaut gripped the railing, “You see a lighthouse?” I nodded eyes wide, feeling like I was going mad. “The light though,” the man pressed, “do you see the light?” Again, I nodded. “What color is it?” He urged. I swallowed, “Green. It’s green.” The astronaut nodded, tension leaving his voice, “Then there’s still time.” Dumbfounded, I pointed toward the towering structure, “W-where did that thing come from? What’s going on here? How have I not seen that before?” The astronaut stepped away from the railing, craning his head back and up into the night sky, “I need to get you out of here.” “Look buddy, I don’t know what-” The man held up a gloved finger, cutting me off, his voice commanding and frantic, “Quiet! Listen...do you hear it?” I paused, mind splintering apart in confusion. I did as I was told. Crickets continued to chirp quietly across the grasslands, a soft melody all too familiar. But as the seconds stretched on, they began to change. They began to elongate and deepen. They became familiar in a horrific new way. They were speaking. I closed my eyes, mouth dry, and focused on the voices I heard. On the words. After a full thirty seconds, I looked at the astronaut standing in my front lawn. “I hear numbers,” I whispered. “So do I,” the man confirmed. “Which means you don’t have as long as I thought.” “Long for what?” I croaked, the soft voices in the background continuing to mutter low numbers at random. “Before you’re stuck here for good.” I shook my head, eyes blinking rapidly, “You’ll have to forgive me, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. Where did that lighthouse come from? What are the numbers? What the fuck is going on?” The astronaut suddenly climbed the handful of steps to my side and stood face to face with me. His golden visor reflected porch light. “Where do you think you are right now?” He asked. My voice came out as a slither, “I’m at home! Where the hell do you think we are?!” “Home…” the man muttered, “where’s home?” “Look,” I stated, desperate to free myself from the growing insanity, “I think I’ve had just about enough of this for one night. I need you to leave.” “You don’t want me to do that,” the astronaut said flatly. “I’m your only way out of this.” My eyes flickered toward the lighthouse against the dark horizon, its green light on a continuous slow rotation across the world. The astronaut raised his arm and pressed a black button that stood out along his wrist. “What did you just do?” I demanded, voice not quite steady. “Saved your life,” he answered matter-of-factly. I was about to ask another question when something caught my attention. It was the lighthouse. The color of its sweeping beam had changed. It was orange now. The astronaut noticed the worry that overtook my face and gripped my shoulder with a heavily gloved hand. “What is it?! What do you see?!” I cleared my throat, slowly, “The lighthouse. It’s different now. Orange.” I felt his grip on my arm tighten, “This isn’t good.” “I don’t understand,” I pleaded, “what is happening?” “Do you hear to voices still? The numbers?” I paused and then realized I couldn’t, “No…” The astronaut looked up into the sky, “Then it might be too late.” He directed his attention back to my pale face, “Do you remember any of them?” “Any of what?” “The numbers!” Feeling all the weight of insanity press down on me, I clawed my mind for memory, “Uhh...shit...I don’t know. Maybe a six and a four?” “Remember those,” the man urged, “you’ll need them to get out of here.” Before I could offer any more panicked questions, something changed above us. I leaned out past the porch railing and turned my eyes to the sky. Immediately, my heart surged into my throat and fear erupted across my confused state. A crack had appeared, an orange fracture that split the stars and snaked from horizon to horizon. As I watched, heart hammering, the crack grew and widened, splintering open to reveal something else entirely. It was the face of a child. A massive, moon sized thing distorted with features that shouldn’t be there. Its eyes were wide and curious, two holes of burning orange that bore down over us. It looked male, but I couldn’t be sure, its soft white skin lined with a maze of black lines that criss-crossed across its face. It opened its mouth and exposed a mouthful of massive teeth, all radiating orange so bright it was like staring into the sun. Shielding my eyes, I watched as the child’s teeth began to extend downward, growing past its chin. As they dipped down from the heavens, they began to melt and liquify, dangling from the night like pieces of drooping taffy. When they made landfall, they formed a puddle on the horizon. Vibrating intensely, still attached to the heavenly mouth, the long pieces of stringy teeth began to grow arms and pull themselves across the world toward me. In its wake, the ground ignited with flame, long lines of burning earth that began to spread. The astronaut took a step away from me, his voice lined with the same fear I felt surging through me, “There’s no hiding now.” A million screaming questions roared up my throat, but I couldn’t find the strength to speak. My eyes were glued to the orange shapes in the distance. They were getting closer, the face in the sky staring down at me with those enormous blazing eyes. “What is happening…?” I whispered, dazed, feeling dizzy. The lighthouse in the trees began to glow brighter, the rotation of its beam spinning faster. I felt like I would fall over, my senses overloaded, my heart drumming in my chest. I gripped the railing hard, and as I did so, the landscape shimmered. It was like watching a mirage take shape across the world, a heatwave that rippled and stirred through the grass and into the woods. In that instant, everything changed, but it was only for a moment. What I saw in that brief second wasn’t my backyard, but something else entirely. It was empty space, eerily lit by four glowing orbs. They hovered in the air like distant suns, their light emitting a sickly green color. Between the sphere’s were tufts of cloud that pulsed with the same shade of light. Strung between the clouds were dripping cords composed of some visceral substance. They spiderwebbed across the sky in a pattern too complex to follow or make sense of. Hanging from the meaty tangle were what appeared to be some kind of animal life. There were thousands of them, like monkeys, but covered in scales instead of fur. They did nothing, made no sound, no movement; they simply hung in place, watching me, their long arms gripping for purchase above their heads, their long bodies coated in thick black organic armor. As quickly as it had come, the vision vanished. It was replaced by the familiar grassland, trees, and ominous lighthouse. But the child in the sky remained, its blazing teeth snaking closer and closer by the second. The night began to fill with ash, the fire creeping across the empty land. “I’m having a nightmare,” I said distantly, surprised at the sound of my own voice. The astronaut snapped my attention back to himself, “There’s a ship coming for you. Look, up there past the lighthouse. Do you see it?” Feeling sick, I turned and saw a streak of white light soaring across the sky towards us, leaving a tail of stardust in its wake. “What...what is all this…?” I croaked, the long strands of crawling teeth burning in my peripheral. “You’re not where you think you are,” the astronaut said quicking, his golden visor reflecting the approaching flame. “Is this the end of the world?” I whispered. The astronaut quickly shook his head, turning his shielded gaze to the streaking white light that arched closer toward us. “No, this isn’t the end. In order to get out of here, you need to believe that this isn’t what you think. Open your eyes.” I shook my head helplessly, “I don’t understand…” The astronaut stepped to my side, his voice tactful and precise, “What did you do earlier today? How did you get here?” I opened my mouth to answer, but when I reached back into the day, I found I couldn’t offer a single memory. I fumbled with my recollection, convinced it would return to me, but no matter how badly I tried, a wall of darkness met me. “You can’t remember can you?” Slowly, I shook my head. The man leaned into me, “Good. That means you’re beginning to understand what this place is. You’ve been trapped here for a very long time, I fear. Can you remember anything about the world around you save for this porch?” Once again, I dug deep for something, anything, but found there was nothing there but darkness. I shook my head again, dumbfounded at this horrible discovery. The white light in the sky that had been approaching roared into view and descended quickly before us, landing neatly in the yard. Mind muddled, I looked at it. It appeared to be some kind of spaceship. It was small, barely big enough to hold a single passenger. The design of its exterior was puzzling in its construction. It looked like something a child would make, a first attempt at molding clay into something the resembled a rocket ship. The astronaut at my side grabbed my arm and dragged me down the steps toward it, his voice urgent, “Get on this and get out of here, it’s your only chance.” I allowed myself to be led, my eyes alternating rapidly between the crude ship, the lighthouse, and the crawling monstrosity hanging from the sky. The flames were only a couple hundred yards away now, the long clawing arms gripping and pulling at the earth aggressively, the orange forms oozing from the smiling mouth in the heavens. “What’s going to happen to me?” I begged, stopping before the rumbling rocket. Smoke wafted from underneath, as if preparing for a sudden liftoff. The astronaut reached up and pulled the hatch open, “You’re going back home.” I felt like crying, “But...but this is home!” The man shook his head, “No, it’s not. This is an illusion, a place you were never meant to find. Tell me, what is it you felt when you sat on that porch, before I arrived?” I searched myself and was relieved to have an answer, “Peace...I was at peace.” The man nodded, as if expecting this, “Of course you did. Honestly, I’m surprised you were here for as long as you have been. I’m surprised it didn’t find you sooner,” he nodded toward the face in the sky, “and most of all, I’m surprised I stumbled across you. You’re a lucky man. Now get in there and get out of here!” He pushed me toward the ship and I clattered up the small ladder and into the cockpit. I felt like screaming. I felt like tearing my hair out in frustration. All the questions in the world pressed in on me and I felt as if my skull would break beneath them. I slid into the solitary seat and looked down at the astronaut. At his back, the massive claws of the cosmic entity wriggled ever closer. “What has happened to me?” I whispered, letting everything else go. The man placed a gloved hand on the hatch, his voice grave, “You traveled someplace you weren’t supposed to find.” And with that, he heaved the door shut, one last sentence hanging in the air between us. “Fly safe.” Darkness filled the tiny cab. My eyes began to adjust as light filtered in through a small square window above me. The light was tinted orange. The flames were growing closer. I didn’t have much time. I looked down at the control panel before me and was shocked to find a plain faced display with only three buttons. Written above each was a different number: 9, 6, and 4. The rocket shuddered with anticipation, a rumbling growl begging to be released. I raised my fingers to the buttons and thought of the crickets. The voices. I pushed the buttons labeled 6 and 4. Immediately, the rocket exploded upwards into the night sky, the cockpit shaking aggressively as the small craft climbed the length of the night and spewed into outer space. Stars blurred past the window above my head and I gripped the seat, terrified, the G-forces ripping through my stomach with miserable intensity. The lighthouse vanished below me. The field. The astronaut. I was allowed a brief glimpse of the child-like face in the sky, now angrily staring at me through the crack in the heavens, but then that too was robbed from sight as my small craft zoomed ever away, cracking the roof of the atmosphere and sending me headlong into whatever came next. I felt my consciousness slipping away as the G-forces pressed tighter against me. I clawed my eyes over to the window one last time and as the darkness clogged the corners of sight, I saw something new enter my field of vision. It was Earth. I’m not entirely sure when I came too. I remember a lot of noise. Doctors. Nurses. A whole army of government officials and scientists all staring down at me, asking me questions in voices much too loud. I tread the line between consciousness and slumber for what felt like days. I remember recounting what had happened to me to a group of very concerned looking men in lab coats, but I couldn’t repeat it if you put a gun to my head. Everything was so foggy. Everything felt wrong. As the days bled into weeks, my memory began to piece itself back together. A lot of that was helped by the visitors I had. They slotted in the key components I so desperately sought. As the mystery of what happened was revealed to me, the more the horror of that place came forth. Because you see...I had been part of mission orchestrated by NASA. They had found something terribly close to our planet. An abnormality. A tear in space. A hole that wasn’t supposed to be there. Every probe they sent into the ripple disappeared without a trace as soon as it passed through. The mystery and potential danger of this new discovery sent shockwaves throughout the world. People were calling it the end times. Religion surged with new life and the masses flocked to churches, convinced that this was the start of God’s judgement. But as time passed and nothing happened, opinions changed about the strange portal. Soon, people began to believe that this was a gateway. A door straight into heaven. And it wasn’t just the spiritual who believed this. It was the scientists and astronomers as well. Of course, they didn’t believe that this tear led to heaven, but they did believe it led to somewhere outside the realms of our reality. And so NASA began to form a team, a group of people that would take a single ship straight into the mouth of the beast. I had been on that team. I wish I could explain the details of what happened once we entered, but there is nothing in my memory but a void as dark as space itself. They tell me four others were with me on our mission. None of them have returned. I don’t know where we went. I don’t know who that man in the space suit was. I don’t know why he chose to help me. That spaceship he pushed me into...NASA recovered it, along with myself. They still haven’t figured out what exactly it is. But it got me home. I landed a couple miles off the Pacific Coast in California. I don’t really remember any of that, though. There’s one more detail that haunts me. One more fact that makes my skin crawl. That porch...that field and the woods...that is the only memory I have of that place. Over and over again, that memory persists. Opening the beer. The chirp of crickets. The breeze. One night, a slice of time the length of an hour. What terrifies me about that is someone told me that it’s the year 2018. My team left Earth in 1987. If this terrifying fact is true...


The late afternoon sun cast overhead as a couple drives along a muggy backroad. You can hear the soft murmur of the cicadas thriving in the trees. An unyielding sea dances with the pavement in the distance. A pale white hand pulls down an old car visor, it slides the mirror cover open, a pair of soft brown-sugar eyes are revealed. the sun reflecting off them to highlight in vivid detail. “How long have we been drivin?,” his wife says, As she dresses her thin lips in a soft shade of red. “I would say about 12 hours now, we’re half way to Wichita he replies” “hey I wanna give you something, and I’ve been waiting since we left Dallas to give it to you. I think you’ll lik- hey! Are you listening!?” he looks over to his wife. She looked like she’d she a ghost, she begins to pull the metallic tube of makeup away from her lips. Her shoulders start to sink into the worn leather seats of his car. “Sweetheart?.... you there?” but no response. Like he was talking to a wall. “Look!” she said short of breath. Then his eyes completely glued to what laid ahead. At first it was hard to make out. The thick Kansas brush cloaked what remained of a car accident. All that was left was the twisted remains of a car that looked frighteningly familiar. An odd chill crawled its way up his spine. For the next thirty minutes they did nothing but drive. After those confining minutes pass, he decides to speak. “Hey? You okay?” “Yea” she said with a slight whimper in her voice. “Look sweetheart, I’m sure whoever was driving that car. Is--w-well I’m sure they’re fine”, he said reassuring her. She twiddled with her fingers nervously. Finally with a slight crack in her voice she says, “it’s not that hun… it’s..tha…well” she shuddered, “that car”. Her husband looks back at her with a puzzled look on his face, “What’ahboutit?” He asked. “Well… it… it looks familiar? You know?” She faces him, “I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere before.” “What do you mean? That old thing was almost unrecognizable. Hell, You couldn’t tell the ass end of that thing from its front”, he says as he wipes the sweat collecting above his brow. “I don’t know, it’s just… I felt something. Kinda like when you smell a certain smell and it takes you back to a place… a place you’ve been before but… you can’t remember where.” “Babe” he says while slowly moving his hands to her rose freckled cheek. “It might just be the drive getting to ya, We’ll stop somewhere, grab ah bite to eat?... how’s that sound? She finally breaks a faint smile and says, “yea, you’re probably right.” “Duh” he says under his breath. “that’s why you married me! But first,” he pulls to the side of the road. The grinding of the gears sound as he puts the car in park next to an old rusted “Welcome” sign. “As I was saying before I’ve got something for you,” she looks at him in with innocents in her face. “I was gonna save it for when we got to Wichita but…seeing as you might need a little pick me up. I thought it might help.” He unbuckles his seatbelt trusts his waist towards the steering wheel and shuffles through his worn jean pocket, His hand comes out clinched in a fist. “Before I show you this, I know you said we should be saving money and blah, blah, blah but… getting you this meant a lot to me,” he begins to open his hand and the sun immediately begins to illuminate a locket. Her hazel eyes glow ever brighter upon seeing it. Tears begin to rush down her cheeks that slowly turned into a busy highway of transparent motorist. “So I hope it means as much to you as it does to me,” She opens the locket and reads, “To my home. To my beautiful sunflower.” She smiles as she lunges to hold her husband. “Thank you so much baby! And I had no idea you were such a poet.” She places the locket over her head and around her neck. “I’ve actually got a surprise of my own for you. I mean it might be a little difficult to top yours but I’ll try.” She grabs a small sunflower covered satchel from the glove compartment. And pulls a white letter from the vibrant yellow bag. Before she can take the letter out he stops her and says, “Wait! I think I’d much rather wait till we get to Wichita… please?” She smacks her lips, “well… I guess it can wait. I’ve waited this long to tell you, what’s a couple more hours?” “Now come’on,” his hands grasp the keys and he turns the ignition to start the car. “I think I saw a sign a few miles back to a diner, it shouldn’t be more than 10 miles up the road.” The car pulls up from the side of the road, the tiers kick up a barrage of dust trying to gain traction. Finally, on the weathered pavement they drive off As he drives he feels like this place, this road these trees. They all belong in a memory he’s never had. And he can’t shake the feeling. The sweat on the back of his neck begins to dry and his hands turn cold. His lips start to feel numb and his stomach sinks. No matter how hard he tries he can’t shake this feeling and then it appears. The sign. “Hey babe,” his wife says, “isn’t that the same welcome sign we past a few miles back?” “babe?,” He snaps out of the trance and looks right. “no… cant be. There’s no way, the map said it was a straight shot from here to Wichita. there’s no way we’ve been going in a circle.” Before his wife has time to respond he yells out. “AH! There it is.” A lone diner fades into the mirage between the pavement and the baby blue sky. “There’s our diner, And you were worried,” he teases. They finally pull up to the diner and it seems oddly new. The building had a slick vintage look to it. But with no sign of age. Its silver doors reflected the rays of the sun like a mirror. Its parking lot looked as if the lines were freshly painted and the gravel recently paved. As they pulled up to the parking lot the numbing sound of the neon sign above drowned out any and all sounds of nature that surrounded it. The cars breaks began to squeal subtly as it moved along the pavement. The engine cuts off and the lights dim slowly to shut off. The car is silent. The chill. It’s back. The husband freezes. The shallow feeling in his stomach. His grip on the steering wheel gets tighter with each breath of anxiety. The back of his knuckles start to turn white from the hold on the wheel. His body starts to tremor like his entire soul had been thrown into an icebox. After a few more moments he shook the feeling and laughed nervously, “ha” …well that was weird, right babe?,” he waits a few seconds for his wife to reply and nothing. “Babe?” he turns to the passenger side to see nothing. He feels the seat and surprisingly not warm. As if he’d been driving this entire way alone. He turns to look in the back to find it empty and oddly dusty. Sweat begins to rush down the side of his head one drop at a time. He feels lost…. alone. He runs out of the car frantically towards the diner trying not to stumble under his own weight. Finally, he reaches the diner doors and pushes them in, once inside he finds- nothing. Not a single costumer. The smell of coffee flows around him. A jukebox at the far end of the diner plays a cover of “La Bamba” sang by Richie Valens. The checkered pattered floor glows with white light above. Just as outside, the diner keeps a seemingly timeless look all around. And finally, a soft voice. .“sir?” his mind quickly snaps back to reality. “Sir?” He turns his head to the cash register. It’s a woman. Dressed in an all-white waitress uniform. She wasn’t standing there before. Her hair a dark brown and tied up in a bun. Eyes so blue they could get even the strongest of men to tell the truth. And skin so vibrant… so perfect it was like she had never aged a day in her life. He was to busy staring that everything became muffled around him. After a few seconds her voice broke through again as she said, “Hi, for how many?” The husband still in shocked answered, “Sorry I’m looking for my wife,” in a weak broken tone, “hav…have you seen her?”. “ummm… I may have, could you maybe describe her to me?,” he tries to put words together and says, “su…sure umm.. shes bout your height light skinned. Oh umm.. she has hazel eyes and freckles. Freckles like you couldn’t imagine, She’s also wearing a silver locket around her neck” She smiles and says, “We might have seen someone with that description wonder in here a couple hours ago. But we do see a whole lot of people in this diner. As you can see obviously,” she laughs. She puckers her lips to one side as to think “I tell’s you what, how’s about we get you set up in a booth, get some coffee in you. And I’ll make a few phone calls and see if we can get you back to your wife?” The husband puzzled hesitates to accept but does, and follows the hostess to a booth closest to the door. As she starts to walk away he stops her and asks, “excuse me I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name?” “Oh, How rude of me, I’m Luci with an “I”, She says as she smiles. “let me go get that coffee for ya Hun.


The TV plays wheel of fortune in the background while someone’s grandmother rocks back and forth in her favorite rocking chair. Her fluff of fine white hair, that she still put in curlers, reflects the light around her face and head like a halo. She’s in her warmest house coat with the matching slippers on her feet. Normally she’s in bed and asleep by now, but for some reason she stayed up when everyone else made their way to their rooms. So now she rocks alone in the living room with the TV playing quietly in the background; her attention focused through the gauzy curtains and out the window to the dark streets. Cradling a cup of once hot tea turned cold by lack of attention she continues to rock. The room smells like the detergent she uses. Or rather, the detergent that is used by her granddaughter that cares for her. She stops her rocking just long enough to shakily put the tea down beside an orange that lays peeled, quartered, and waiting on the side table. With her task done she returns to her repetitive motion as she lets her gaze drift beyond the curtains. The dark, paired with the glow from the TV is almost therapeutic with how unobtrusive it is. In the dark truths can be hidden, like someone’s exact age or the emotions that they may be wearing on their face. But the gentle smile on her face could not be hidden even by the dim lighting. She sits there rocking back and forth remember all the things in her life that had made it so worth living the past eighty-nine years. When she was sixteen she fell in love, by eighteen she was married, and the birth of her daughter soon followed that. Three small boys joined them and for twenty-three wonderful years she raised her children until they set off on their own adventures. She had hosted approximately sixty-three Christmases, Easter dinners, and New Year’s Eve parties. She had stayed a devout Christian attending mass roughly 4,272 times sense she was born. She had been there for all her children’s marriages, both the ones that had lasted and those that had fallen apart. She had watched her seven grandchildren’s and two great grandchildren’s births and attended every birthday they had had. She had been there when her husband had died at eighty, finally released from his pain after fighting cancer for almost two years. Somewhere behind her the television changed programs and opera played softly in the background. Stopping the rocking motion of the chair once more, she bends forward to pick up the tabby cat that has wound itself around her legs. “There you are Samson,” she says putting the purring mass of orange fur in her lap. With her companion to keep her company she starts her slow rocking again. Now she thinks about all the times that she had triumphed over struggles in her life with the help of others; and those struggles that she had triumphed with her own strength and faith. Twenty years into their marriage her husband and she had experienced a very rough patch indeed. Although they never fought in front of the children they had stopped talking and loving. On one long walk that she had taken after an especially nasty whispered fight she had stopped and cried on a bench in the park. There she had prayed. She had prayed for strength and patience to listen to what her husband needed and that he would do the same. The rough patch had eventually ended, and they learned to love each other again. Her faith was shaken to its core once more when her mother and father died the same night, only hours apart. This time too, she had taken time to pray and listen, waiting to find her way. Which she did. The day that they had found out that her husband, that she had loved for so many years, had fallen to cancer they had both held each other and cried. This was one of the most difficult struggles they had ever faced together. When the two-year anniversary had approached for his diagnosis he had taken her hand and told her that he could maintain the struggle no longer. This time she had cried because she knew he was right. They buried him in the town where they had met, three hours away from where she sat now. After the tears were done, she praised the Lord above with thanks for releasing him from his pain. She rocked back and forth, stroking the purring cat as a tear ran down her face. It was not a tear of sadness but of relief in finding solace from the events of her life. She would soon be gone. Although she did not know when, she was happy to go. It was time and when God called she knew she would answer willingly. She put her hand, with knuckles gnarled by arthritis, on the window pain that the gentle rain was tapping. More tears joined the ones of relief. Her loving husband stood on the lawn in the rain, smiling and waiting. She had seen him so many times over the past month. She leaned back smiling as the tears traced a salty stream down her face. She closed her eyes with the image of her husband watching her. As a hand touched her shoulder she opened her eyes and looked up at the figure that was standing there. Her husband, as he was when they first fell in love stood there, smiling down. She smiled back and kissed the hand before starting to rock again with closed eyes. The rain stopped not long after, as the sky became grey with the coming morning. At dawn a young woman dressed in a floral print dress and blue ballet flats joined the young man on the lawn. She had light blond hair and bright blue eyes. The pair took each other’s hands and shared a slow kiss before looking back at the old woman in the still chair; the orange cat still sitting in her lap.


Rusted pieces of metal wash up on the white sand, broken remnants of a now destroyed Boeing 737. Twenty yards inland, the sand continues but the beach seems to stop, giving way to a dark and leafy forest that goes the entire length of the island until it meets the similar twenty yards of beach on the opposite side. Ty Mastherson sits down on the sand, underneath the shade of a palm and watches the scrap metal find its way to dry land. It is the first time in a long time he’s felt completely and totally content. Ty was, to his knowledge, one of the only two survivors from the crash. The other, Amy, was on her own back at ‘home’(home was nothing more than a small collection of firewood and two bundles of grass they’d taken to calling beds). When the plane had begun to go down, Ty had decided he was okay with dying. He’d seen people around him scrambling to put on their oxygen masks and struggling to figure out how their seats turned into a floatation device because they do, don’t they? I saw it on TV once- Ty chose to sit calmly amid the chaos, trying to concentrate on finishing his crossword. If the need to survive had not been the most base, powerful instinct a human could feel, he might not have bothered unbuckling his seatbelt when he found himself still alive and conscious after the crash, nor would he have allowed himself to float to the top of the water. He definitely wouldn’t have struggled over to a broken airplane seat, now floating(so they did float) on the ocean's surface, letting himself be carried inland to the island only a few hundred yards away. He wouldn’t have swam out to save Amy(herself floating in on some kind of backpack) and spent a few days setting up camp with her. He wouldn’t have done any of that. But he did. And now Ty felt better than he had in fifteen years. In a lot of ways, it was like a vacation; There was nowhere to clock in on the island. Amy had found some kind of fruit or vegetable- They weren’t really sure exactly what it was, only that it tasted similar to a pear- that seemed to grow almost everywhere you looked. And there were animals too- They’d been there a week and Ty had only managed to catch glimpses- a rustle in a bush or an unlucky step in the remnants of a wild bathroom break- but eventually he would find one and he would kill it. He and Amy would share the meal together and mark it like that one boy had in that book Hatchet- First Meat. Ty had never been much for being in charge in his old life, but on the island he was thrust into the position. Amy looked up to him; She saw him as a leader, and to his credit, he had tried to act the part. Setting up the camp had been done largely to his specifications, as minimal as they were. He made sure that neither of them ever ate too many of the fruits, so far their only sustenance. He’d shown Amy how to boil water to make it somewhat drinkable. He’d even thought out a plan for picking the fruits only from certain parts of the forest at a time, to make sure they never picked too many- but then, they’d only been here a few days. Better to wait to tell Amy about that one. She was still holding out hope that they would be rescued- You could see it when she thought she was alone and looked to the distance, squinting in hopes that it might make a rescue ship appear on the horizon. Ty had accepted what Amy still had yet to figure out- they were never going to make it back to society. But of course, he would never tell her that. Not yet. Ty had to be careful around Amy, delicate as she was. For the most part, he could tell how she felt- They’d grown close over the last few days. She’d fallen for him almost immediately. What was that thing people said? “I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on earth?” Turns out that’s a bald faced lie. Back home, Ty doubted if Amy would’ve given him a second glance on the street. Nothing much impressive about a balding 32 year old man who works at the DMV. The island though, was a different story. Here he was- Well he would never tell Amy this. Probably wouldn’t admit it to anyone in the world. But he felt like a king, a fucking king. And who was to say different? It wasn’t as if there was anyone here to challenge him for the crown. “So there”, Ty thought. “I’m king of the island.” The heat was growing unbearable, so he turned and started to walk back into the forest. It was still hot underneath the shade, but more tolerable. Also he wanted to find Amy- What was she doing? Sometimes Amy would drift into these spells of melancholy that lasted for hours at a time- Ty always worried the one day she might become so depressed as to take her own life. If that happened, Ty thought he might go crazy as well. She was sitting on a stump that marked the entrance to their camp. Ty stopped underneath the cover of the canopy for a moment just to admire her again. She was certainly a beautiful woman- dark black hair with eyes Ty swore changed colors at least once a day; Optic mood rings. Somehow, after three days stranded on an island with the sun beating down from above, her skin was still porcelain white. “Hey”, Ty said, walking up. “Whatcha doin?” He was already looking at her hands though, where she was sharpening a rock with another rock, forming it into a sort of arrowhead. “What’s that for?” “Hunting.” The rock still looked too blunt to pierce skin and even if she managed to sharpen it well enough, there would still be the issue of fitting it to an arrow and creating a bow, but Ty said none of this. Making a tool meant that on some level, Amy knew they might be here a long time. It was the first sign of initiative she’d shown since they’d been marooned and he certainly wasn’t going to mess that up. “Looks good”, he replied with a smile. “Anything to eat?” An attempt at a joke. Amy gestured over to the pile of pears(they were known as pears until a more fitting name was thought of), letting the joke pass over her head, and went back to sharpening her rock. Ty shuffled over to the pears but his mind remained on Amy even as he sat on the warm ground and began to eat. His mind constantly played with thoughts of Amy- how to make her happier, more productive, anything to change her consistently unconcerned behavior. It was almost as if she didn’t mind whether she lived or died. Apart from the obvious roadblock this posed to their survival, it also worried Ty for a more personal reason. He was interested in making Amy his wife. The idea had no meaning, really. Not out here in the middle of nowhere, where there was no law other than nature. Still, it seemed the proper gesture to make. If they were meant to spend their lives together, isolated from the rest of humanity, Ty thought it was best they do it as partners. And what better way to solidify their partnership than through such a grand act? There was a little bit of a dirty feeling to it though. Certainly Ty had thought about what might happen if Amy said no to him, how uncomfortable things would be. There wasn’t much hope for avoiding each other when they were the only two legged things for thousands of miles. But the more he thought about it, the less likely he thought she would say no. What was in it for her to reject him? She had no one else, nowhere to go- As strange as that sounded, Ty knew more than anything that that would be why Amy accepted him. If it hadn’t been for how deeply he felt for her, he might not have been alright with that. But he could never ask her now, as she sulked and sharpened her knife, like an ape first discovering how to make tools. Ty approached her cautiously. “Amy. Are you alright?” She looked up at him and realized he was worried. Her teeth flashed in a gorgeous smile. “Of course. Sorry. I was thinking of my parents.” Amy’s parents. They seemed to always be the subject of her pouting, whether she was imagining them planning her funeral or digging into their retirement fund to send out frantic search parties for their only daughter. Ty sympathized, he really did, but he also felt that at some point Amy had to get over it. Ty hadn’t thought much about his own parents, other than to remember that his father had once said it might be best for everyone if Ty disappeared off the face of the earth. He hadn’t quite done that, but he’d come as close as he could’ve. Ty squatted down and grabbed Amy’s chin, gently turning her head to face him. “Amy I know it’s hard. And I know it’s early. But soon, it won’t hurt as bad. Soon we’ll forget the past.” Ty hugged Amy’s stiff body as she let his words wash over her. She was smiling back up at him when he released her, before going back to sharpening her rock. Ty left the clearing, and headed up for ‘The Mountain’. ‘The Mountain’ would’ve been better classified as a small hill back “on the mainland” but on the island it was the high point. Ty had originally climbed there on the very first day, squinting with tired eyes at the horizon, trying to see any possible signs of land. Perhaps a dove flying back towards him with a twig in its mouth. Instead he saw nothing but dark blue ocean melting into the lighter blue of the sky. That had been when Ty’d realized they were truly alone. Now he trudged up the incline with sweat on his brow. He abandoned his shirt and let the sun beat down on his already reddening skin. Unlike Amy, Ty was not made for constant sunlight. Though really, a sunburn was the least of his worries. Amy had not come up The Mountain since their first day here, so this was where Ty had decided to propose to her, since it allowed for preparation in secret. He was doing it in as glamorous a fashion as the circumstances provided. He had created a pit in which he could light a bonfire- only for a certain amount of time, so as not to attract too much attention- and planned out what he would say to the exact word. He would compliment her eyes, her skin, her spirit. The way she spoke. He would bless whatever disaster had led to them being marooned together. She would say nothing, only holding out her hand with that perfect smile on her face. The picture of joy. Ty had it all planned. There was only the matter of getting something to eat. Pear-like fruits were fine for regular meals, but what would a wedding be without a feast? Even if it must be a feast of island squirrel, or whatever animal it was that was so narrowly escaping Ty’s gaze. Ty set out into the less explored part of the small island with a determined glare on his face. Today he became a hunter. Back home, Ty had never hunted before in his life. He was more of the quiet type, more likely to be found curled up inside reading Harry Potter for the thirtieth time than to be out scalping deer. But of course, everything had changed for Ty the moment that plane hit the water. Back home, he hadn’t had a girlfriend for 5 years. Here, he would soon make the most beautiful woman for leagues in any direction his queen. The forest of the island was peculiar- In patches, grass grew, but for the most part the ground was sand- hot or cold, depending upon whether or not sunlight had the angle to burn through. Trees were scattered around, with trunks that made Ty think of palm trees but with none of the familiar fronds or coconuts. Bugs thankfully remained rare. Ty spent the better part of two hours up the trunk of one of the mystery trees before a small animal wandered into his vision. It looked like a skunk, though it was brown instead of black and white; Ty had no choice but to pray the resemblance was only coincidence. He hadn’t checked, but he thought it was likely the island was severely lacking in tomato juice. He also had no weapons save for a few small rocks, far too light to do any real damage to an animal that size. He watched it sniff the air, wandering in and out of sunlight. Finally he decided to act. Ty threw the first stone well over the skunk-creature’s head. It rattled the plants behind it and the animal began trotting away from the source of the sound and towards Ty, who let it get right underneath the tree he was in before leaping down upon it like a leopard. There was a brief moment of shock for Ty and the skunk alike as they met each other's unfamiliar textures before Ty found the part of the animal he believed to be it’s neck and twisted. Just like that, the animal lay limp. First Meat. Ty took the brown skunk up The Mountain and began skinning and cooking it. A lack of knowledge meant losing a lot of the available meat, but Ty’s mindset was that Amy would be more impressed with the gesture than the substance. As it cooked, the sun began to fall into a pink-yellow concoction, and Ty left The Mountain to fetch Amy. He found her sitting in the exact same position. She seemed to have ditched the sharpening. Ty grabbed her by the shoulder and extended a hand. “Follow me, I have a surprise for you.” Amy got up without a word and together they began walking over to the hill. On such a small island, you could smell the meat before you saw it grilling. Maybe a month ago Ty would’ve vomited at the stench but now he thought nothing in the world had ever smelt better. He jogged up the hill ahead of Amy and began stoking the bonfire, pleading with it to flourish into a more dramatic flame. He got it five feet high before Amy broke the top. Ty turned away from the embers and got down on one knee. “Amy.” It was only now Ty realized he had never learned Amy’s full name. “Amy, as hellish as the circumstances of our coming together were, these last few weeks with you have been nothing short of heaven. When I see your eyes, I melt. Your sun resistant skin is something of wonder.” Ty made sure to punctuate this line with a smile. “You have an unbreakable spirit and I want to be around you for the rest of my life. Thankfully, it seems I will. Amy, will you marry me?” It played out almost to his exact expectations. Maybe in his imagination he had thought a tear or two might escape Amy’s eyes but her smile was enough. He was now a husband. He had a wife. One day, he might even be a father. In ecstasy, he took Amy into his arms and kissed her. It was a few moments before he felt the blood leaking from his back. When he released her, stunned, Amy pulled the arrowhead from his back and plunged it into him again, this time near his heart. It had become considerably sharper since Ty saw it last. Ty began stumbling backwards, looking for something to defend himself but the shock was too great. Amy ran towards him and shoved him, grunting, into his own bonfire. His screams would’ve sent birds flying if any had inhabited the island. Instead they fell only on Amy’s ears. She stood there, watching him writhe in the heat, relishing his misery. As the last of his life left him, Amy reached over him and grabbed a piece of the still cooking meat. Delicious. So the creep was dead. Finally. Amy had been growing tired of tiptoeing around him, worried that he would realize what she was up to, as if he could see into her thoughts. She was worried about nothing of course; to a narcissistic, delusional asshole like Ty she simply wasn’t a threat. He had probably died marvelling at the fact that Amy had had the mental capacity to betray him at all. “Well guess what asshole- You’re dead!” Amy yelled to no one in particular. The sound of her voice made her feel very alone. She began fanning the bonfire, taking care to keep her eyes from looking at Ty’s torched corpse. Of course she still felt guilty, even though she’d had to do it. There was no other way to fix the situation- What Ty had believed to be the situation. They’d only been here three days, rescue was still well within the realm of possibility. And he’d proposed to her- Asked her to marry him! Fucking lunacy. Amy recalled the first time Ty took advantage of her. She’d barely been conscious, having just been dragged into the shore half drowned. The sick fuck hadn’t even had the decency to let her dry off first, just tore at her as though time was running out on some invisible stopclock… She remembered it with the icy detachment of someone who has only heard a story of trauma, not the fiery terror of one who’s experienced it. The asshole had actually had the audacity to ask her if it was good afterwards- As though it were just a casual hookup after a wild night out. As though they’d met in a bar and not nearly died on a plane crash that very same day. As though it was guaranteed either of them would ever have any other options. Insanity. And no Ty. It wasn’t good. Amy sat on The Mountain, wrinkling her nose at the smell of Ty’s burning shorts. The bastard had loved walking around without his shirt on. Probably thought he was turning into some sort of Tarzan, as though his flabby beer gut would’ve somehow disappeared over three days. She popped a few more pieces of the skunk into her mouth, considered trying to save some of Ty’s corpse for food and decided she was not nearly desperate enough. Wasn’t sure if she ever would be. Instead, she left The Mountain and lugged all the firewood Ty had so kindly chopped up for her out to the beach. She started four separate bonfires at each point of the island, wafting their flames to great heights. And then Amy began to wait.


The Cat That Wouldn’t Purr April 1980 William had the rare fortune, or misfortune, to experience the greatest day of his life and the worst day of his life all in one week’s time. William was a twenty-five-year-old construction worker in Las Vegas, Nevada. Come payday, William would invest ten percent of his pay into a slot machine at one of the numerous casinos in the gambling paradise of Nevada. Many of his co-workers also gambled. Some gambled away lesser portions of their income, and some gambled away greater portions of their income on the American fantasy of winning it big in Las Vegas. William tried to be realistic about his gambling, to establish limits on his spending, and to never allow his gambling to take over and ruin his life. So when William won $850,000.00 and change, he took the same practical attitude about this stroke of fortune but with one exception. William threw a party for all of his co-workers. Pizza, beer, a few hours at a topless bar on the main strip in Vegas, and in just a few hours’ time he had spent over seven thousand dollars just so he and his friends, family, and co-workers could have a good time. The following day at work when William arrived, most of his co-workers were startled at his presence. “We thought you were quitting your job…isn’t that what you said last night so many times?” William explained that having $800,000.00 (and change) was a good thing, but not a great thing. “That’s just eighty grand a year for ten years…that’ll take me to my thirty-fifth birthday…and then what? Or forty grand a year for twenty years…that’ll take me to my forty-fifth birthday…and then what? Maybe I should try and live off twenty grand a year for forty years until I’m sixty-five? And then what? None of those choices are realistic. This money will get me a nice house and will add to my future, but it’s not enough to retire on. I need to keep working. I’m only twenty-five now, I still have time to add to my nest-egg before the golden age of retirement.” Over the next several days, many of his co-workers, family, and friends all approached William asking for necessary loans. “C’mon tough guy! Don’t be an asshole! I just need a down payment for a house, and maybe a bit extra for a new car. You can afford it, we all know how much you won.” William spent the next several days listening to numerous sob-stories concerning finances from all those in his life. There is no need to address what some of his female friends offered him in exchange for various loans and assistance. When the weekend finally arrived, William drove to Palm Springs, California, to escape the constant demands for money from what he thought were his friends and his loving family. He spent the entire weekend either in his hotel room thinking about the future, or in a nearby bar or coffee shop trying to decide what he should do with his life. Late Sunday afternoon William drove back to his apartment in Las Vegas, and was immediately overwhelmed by the vast amount of notes on his front door, the envelopes slid under the same door and all the messages on his answering machine. William was utterly disgusted by the vast amount of attention focused on him, or rather his money, and knew he had made the right decision while in Palm Springs. When he arrived at work the next morning, he gave the boss his two-week notice of quitting. “I just can’t stay in Vegas anymore…too many people know about my winnings. Hell, I can’t even stay in Nevada…somebody would track me down and ask for money. I need to put Las Vegas in my rear-view mirror forever.” Over the next two weeks, William gave various hints to his family, friends, and co-workers that he was moving to the East Coast of America. He would idly chat with the people in his life about the weather in Florida or the beauty of New England in the fall. During these two weeks, he added in numerous other travel destinations and even hinted about purchasing a recreational vehicle and touring America for the next year. On his last day at his job-site, there was no farewell party for William. Too many of his co-workers were miffed at William for not loaning or giving them money. When the workday ended, William merely drove to his apartment and continued his preparations for leaving Las Vegas. Many of his possessions were either sold or given away. He realized that far too much of his income was spent (wasted) on the mundane trivia of life as he filled numerous trash bags with worthless items. These items found a temporary new home in the garbage dumpster behind the apartment building where he lived. When all was complete, William stayed in Las Vegas for an additional two weeks visiting with his family (who never relented in their demands for money) and seeing many of the touristy attractions that the city had to offer. When it was time for his departure, his family (father, mother, and two elder brothers) didn’t bother with a going away party, nor a final meal together. They were all too upset at William for not simply handing over his winnings to them. On his last morning in Las Vegas, William loaded his final few possessions in his pickup truck and then headed for Phoenix, Arizona. He spent two days in a hotel and learned that one of his brothers had, somewhat clandestinely, followed him to Phoenix. William spent a week in Phoenix, then made a sudden departure at three in the morning for Amarillo, Texas. After a week in the city to learn if he had been followed again, he finally decided to travel to his final destination of San Diego, California. ************* May to August 1980 William had arrived in San Diego, found a modest hotel, and then began working on his future. He visited one of the colleges in town to learn of the application process, filled out the paperwork, and was surprised to receive an acceptance letter at the post office box he had rented upon his arrival in America’s Finest City. With his college dreams satisfied, he then began apartment hunting. He selected an older apartment building that was in the proverbial Goldilocks vicinity to the college…not too far, but not too close. He could still ride his bike, weather permitting, to and from college. "Weather permitting," he mused to himself, "so many people are complaining of the heat in San Diego, but not me! After twenty-five years in Las Vegas, this is perfect weather!" He planned to begin college in September. With his high school days seven years behind him, he visited the college bookshop, purchased the necessary textbooks, and began studying at home to prepare himself. He had set-up his three bedroom apartment so that one of the bedrooms was converted into an office where he could review his textbooks and read about various investments for his money. William was determined to make something of his life, and not end up in a blue-collar hell like the rest of his family who lived paycheck-to-paycheck. "After college,ć he thought aloud, "then I’ll decide where to live and buy a house. But that’s after college when my life is on track. Besides, the students at college don’t need to know I’m living in a house I own. They don’t need to know about my finances." William then began living a simple life. An exercise walk or bike ride in the mornings, followed by lingering at a coffee shop for an hour or two, then back home to study or to just enjoy his freedom from the gold-diggers back in Las Vegas. In the evenings, he would again take a brief exercise walk before retiring for the evening. And, of course, there were the occasional visits to the vast amount of bars and nightclubs in San Diego. Life was good for William, but it was soon to become better. One morning in early June, William was exiting the apartment complex where he lived for his morning bicycle ride when he heard an odd noise. Looking around the area, he noticed an incredibly thin cat with a bloated stomach mewing and making other cat noises to get his attention. The cat was located near the outside fence of the apartment complex and near an opening in the fence. William realized that this cat was acting very cautious. If anyone approached it menacingly, it had an easy escape. Walking towards the near-emaciated cat, William noticed its overall condition of neglect. Dirty, apparently hungry, fur not groomed for a long time, and a look of desperation in its eyes. “Hey, Kitty-Cat…Where’d you come from? Where’s your owner?” The cat merely looked at William and continued its pleas for attention. “You’re obviously not feral, as you haven’t run away from me yet. But what happened to your owner? Did you run away from home? And you’re so bloated? How long since you’ve eaten a decent meal?” William was surprised when the cat, seemingly understanding his words, rolled over onto its back and displayed its bloated stomach. As he looked, he saw movement from the abdominal area. “My gosh! You’re not bloated! You’re pregnant!” As William spoke, the cat turned back over, got on its paws, and slowly and cautiously approached William. William bent down to pet the kitty, and as he stroked its sparse fur, he noticed an excessive amount of fur falling off its back with each stroke. “Kitty-cat, I’m afraid to say that you seem very malnourished. You just wait here. I’ll bicycle to the local convenience store for some food and milk for you. You need to stay healthy for your kitten’s sake!” William was again surprised when the cat, again seemingly understanding his words, ended its mewing, sat down, and seemed to relax. As William walked away, he continued to talk to the cat, with his voice increasing in volume as he got further away. “You just relax now. Ten minutes, and you’ll have plenty of food and milk. Just give me ten minutes!” As an answer, the cat gave a single “Meow.” As William mounted his bicycle, he gave a look towards the cat, and he was its sole focus. When William returned, the cat was in the same location as before, near the hole in the wall of the fence, and was waiting patiently. William laid a paper plate on the ground and placed a small portion of dry and wet cat food on the plate to see which this cat preferred. In its starving condition, the cat had no preference and quickly ate everything. “That’s what I thought, little buddy. You’re damn near starved to death. That’s why I only put a little food on the plate. I’ll give you some more in about ten minutes. While you’re waiting, would you like some milk?” As he spoke, he removed a small container of milk from his backpack, cut it open with his pocketknife, and placed it near the paper plate. The cat immediately began enjoying its latest delicacy from William. As the cat feasted on the milk, William dug into his backpack, produced a thermos of coffee, and poured himself a cup. On this first visit with the cat, William stayed with it for over an hour and slowly doled out food, gave it gentle and loving strokes on its back, and talked to the cat to pass the time. As the cat slowly filled up on food, it would lovingly sit at Williams’s side and allowed William to stroke its back and scratch its neck. “O.K., Kitty-cat…Time for me to go. I need to ride the bike for some exercise today. But before I go, I’m gonna take your picture. Tomorrow I can put up some posters to help find your owners. Is that a deal?” The cat offered a single “Meow” as an answer and sat motionless as William snapped the photo. "That’s so weird," he thought aloud, "it’s almost as if the cat understands English." With the photo taken, William began his good-byes to the cat. “Don’t worry about food. I’ll bring you food in the morning before my bike ride, and some more food in the evening before my after-dinner walk. I’ll take good care of you until your owners are located. You just stay clear of any dogs. And I’d take you into my apartment, but the complex has a stringent ‘No pets allowed’ policy. O.K., kitty? See you tonight!” The cat again answered William with a single “Meow,” and then walked through the hole in the fence. With the cat fed and happy, William departed on his bike ride. That evening, William returned to the hole in the fence, but the cat was not to be seen. As he laid out the paper plate with cat food, the cat slowly exited from the hole in the fence, verified that it was William providing its dinner, and then happily walked towards William for some neck scratches and back rubs before beginning with its dinner. As the cat ate, William removed a small cardboard box of milk from his backpack, opened it with his pocket knife, and set it near the paper plate. The cat alternated between the milk and the food until it had its full, then it walked over to William and laid by his side to receive more physical attention with back rubs and neck scratches. After ten minutes, William said his good-byes to the cat and departed for his evening walk. As he looked back, he saw the cat disappearing through the hole in the fence. “That’s kind of odd,” began William as he was walking away. “That cat never purred, not even once. Well, maybe it will in time, once it gets used to me.” William mused over the cat that wouldn’t purr during his evening walk. Returning to the apartment complex, he looked for the cat near the hole in the fence, but it was not to be seen. Over the next two weeks, the situation with the cat repeated itself twice-daily. A morning feeding and an evening feeding. Each feeding session had plenty of back rubs and neck scratches for the cat, which the cat seemingly enjoyed, but the cat still wouldn’t purr. Some of these feeding sessions were short, maybe ten minutes in length, and other feeding sessions would last over an hour as William enjoyed the cat’s company. William had put up the posters searching for the owners, but he secretly hoped the owners wouldn’t see the signs, nor try to claim their cat. One of the people William routinely met on his nightly exercise walks was an older man. This man wasn’t a friend, but he did become a “Nodding companion” as these two men would exchange nods as they encountered each other. One night, William decided to talk to this man about the lost cat and to ask if he knew of anybody searching for their long-lost pet. “No, Sonny-boy, I’ve heard of no lost cats in the area. But let me come have a look at it tomorrow, and it may jog my memory. The older you get, the easier you for-get.” As the older man smiled at his little bit of wordplay, William mentioned that he didn’t look too old and that a man in his fifties shouldn’t consider himself excessively old. “In my fifties? I’m a lot older than that, Sonny-boy. A lot older! I guess I just look young. But that’s a story for a different day. But now that we’ve finally talked, we are now friends. I’ll come by to see your cat tomorrow night. Seven in the evening, did you say?” William nodded at the older man as an answer and then told him the location of the evening feed. “I’ll be there, Sonny-boy. I kinda like cats. If I can help, I’ll be glad to assist you…and the cat.” “Sure thing, old-timer. See you then!” As the older man heard the phrase “old-timer,” he gave a short laugh before walking away. The next evening, William was feeding the cat but without his new friend in attendance. “I guess the old-timer forgot after all.” William stayed with the cat for an hour that night, stroking its fur which was no longer shedding as significantly as their first encounter, and giving it scratches under its neck, which the cat particularly enjoyed. As William was enjoying his time alone with the cat, the cat suddenly leaped to its feet, arched its back and began hissing violently at something behind William. Turning to look at what the cat saw, William saw the old-timer from the previous evening about fifteen feet away. He turned back to comfort the cat, but only had a brief glimpse of it as it hastily fled the area. William then turned his attention to the older man. “That cat is terrified of you! Did you hurt it? Did you ever throw rocks at it or something? So help me God, old man, if you ever hurt that cat” “Relax, Sonny-boy. I’ve never even seen that animal before. I’m a stranger to it, and maybe it just doesn’t like strangers. Most cats don’t like my kind.” Although the older man knew why the animal fled, he kept that secret to himself. “And one more thing. Cat? That’s not a cat. That’s a kat, spelled k-a-t.” William gave him a puzzled look but asked no questions. This older man may be a bit senile, or a bit crazy, so I’ll just let him continue the story, he thought to himself. “You don’t know what a kat is? Well, let me tell you…” The older man then began his story. “A kat, once again spelled k-a-t is a cat that’s been used as a familiar for a witch. You know about those things, Sonny-boy?” “I’ve read the stories. Witches have their pets, which they refer to as familiars, but it’s just stories” “Just stories!” was said a bit too aggressively by the older man. “They are not just stories! Witches are real, and so are their familiars.” The older man paused as he calmed himself down somewhat. “I know a fair bit about witches and their familiars. I used to live in Salem, Massachusetts, and was hard-pressed to leave that place,” he said with a chuckle, “and I know all about witches and their familiars. Believe me, Sonny-boy. Witches and kats are real.” The older man continued his story in a rambling manner. He explained that a witch will either find or purchase a cat (“That’s c-a-t, Sonny-boy.”) and then will turn them into their familiars which are then called kats (“That’s k-a-t, Sonny-boy."). The familiars see and experience a lot at the hands of the witches, and it changes them. “And that change is possibly forever. One easy way to distinguish a cat from a kat is that cats purr while kats do not purr. Once in a blue moon, a kat will eventually change back into a cat, but those changes are rare. Very rare. And if a kat begins purring at you, then you know she is yours for life. By the way, was that kat pregnant?” William nodded his head at what he thought was the rambling or attention seeking of an older and lonely man. Then William had a bit of a sarcastic question for the older man. “So when the kat, k-a-t, gives birth, will it have kittens spelled with a k, or cittens, spelled with a hard c?” The older man became quiet while he considered the question. “I’ve never heard of a kat becoming pregnant, so I can’t answer your question. But here’s something to consider. Kats never leave their witches. Never. The only reason I can think of for that kat to be on the loose is that its owner, a witch, died. Check the newspapers, Sonny-boy, for any recent deaths in the area. Check back a month or more, because a kat with a witch will never get pregnant. This is a puzzler for me.” The two men stood in silence for a few minutes as the older man contemplated a pregnant kat, and William searched his memory for any deaths in the area. Neither man came to any conclusions. William then took the conversation in a different direction. “Old-timer, I’m sorry. I just don’t believe your story about witches and their familiars. I mean you no disrespect, but I’m sorry…that’s just not believable to me.” “Sonny-boy…did you know that when Apollo 11 blasted off to the moon, people were watching the launch that were very old? Most of those old-timers had learned of the Civil War and slavery upon their parent’s lap and from their direct involvement in those events. If you had told them in their twenties about men walking on the moon, they would have just laughed at you. Sonny-boy, there is so much you don’t know. Would you like to hear about ghosts now?” William gave a brief laugh, mentioned that ghosts aren’t real, and indicated that he didn’t want to hear any ghost stories. “Well,” began the older man, “time for me to go then. Headed up north to meet some friends tomorrow. Gotta get a good night’s rest tonight. If I’m back in the area, I’ll stop by and check on you and your kat. That is if the kat lets me near it. Cats, and especially kats, don’t like my kind.” “Before you go, old-timer. My name is William Jones. Most folks call me Jonesy.” As he spoke, William raised his hand so they two could shake hands as the ritualistic gesture of introductions and departures. “What’s your name?” “Giles Corey. I’m just a gentleman farmer from back in the old days in Salem Massachusetts. If I’m ever back in the area again, I’ll look you up.” The two shook hands, and then Giles Corey departed. As Giles walked away, William searched the immediate area for the cat…kat…but couldn’t find it. When he turned back in the direction that Giles was leaving, Giles was also no longer in sight. “That’s odd. He didn’t seem like a fast walker to me.” The following morning, William continued his routine of feeding the stray kat, but the kat was nowhere to be seen. “If that old man…,” began William while speaking to himself, but then the truth dawned on him. The kat had probably left the area for some privacy to give birth to her kittens or cittens. William deftly mounted the fence at their normal meeting spot, jumped into the adjacent vacant lot, and then began searching for the kat. After a few minutes, William heard the sound of something running swiftly at him, then heard a cat screaming in anger. As he turned, he noticed the kat had come to a stop twenty feet from him, and defiantly stood its ground while hissing at William. William raised his hands into the air as if being robbed. “O.K., kitty. I understand you. You gave birth, and you are just protecting your children. I get it.” As he spoke, the kat ended its hissing and sat down on its back legs while staring angrily at William. “But you have to eat. You’re nursing your offspring, and they need milk. Your milk. So you need to eat. Understand?” The kat remained quiet. “See that tree over yonder,” William said, as he pointed to a nearby tree. “I’m gonna put your food and milk over there. Once I’m gone, and you feel safe, you can eat at your leisure. Understand?” The kat remained quiet as William walked over to the tree and laid out its breakfast. As William moved, the kat never took its eyes off of him. Once finished, William walked back to the fence while giving the kat a wide berth. As he mounted the fence, he looked back at the kat and received a single “Meow” as a ‘Thank you’ from the kat. William then leaped to the other side of the fence. “That’s so spooky,” William spoke aloud as he walked to his bicycle. “That cat seems to understand everything I say to her. Maybe she is a kat after all.” Over the next three weeks, the above situation repeated itself twice daily. A walk to the fence, then jumping to the other side. Being angrily greeted by the kat, then laying out her morning and evening meals, then a careful retreat with a single meow from the kat as its form of thanks. During all of these visits, he had never seen the kittens (cittens?), and he was wondering how they were faring. Then the inevitable finally happened. As William was walking towards the fence at the usual meeting spot, the kat walked through the hole and stared at William. A staring contest began that lasted for twenty seconds. William was unsure of what to do. "Do I approach her after all her angry charges, screams, and hisses, or do I stay here and let her decide?" The kat ended the staring contest when she walked over to William and began rubbing herself against William’s leg. “Friends again?” was asked by William, but the kat gave no response. William then proceeded to the normal feeding area, laid out a paper plate and added a mixture of wet and dry cat food. He then opened a small box of milk and laid it out for the mother kat. She walked over, enjoyed a few mouthfuls of food and a few licks of milk, and then she stopped. She turned to face William, gave him an angry hiss, and William knew he needed to back up a few steps. As he began backing away, the mother kat began mewing as he had never heard before. “Rah-rah-rah-rah,” she mewed repeatedly, then became silent. After a few seconds, her litter of three kittens began emerging from the hole in the fence. As they saw the food laid out for them, they hastily ran to the food and began to gorge themselves. As they fed, the mother kat positioned herself between the kittens and William, with her emerald green eyes never leaving Williams’ face. As William watched the youngsters feed, he saw another kitten emerging from the hole in the fence. This kitten was definitely smaller than the rest and was the runt of the litter. As the runt approached the food, it found no space for it to receive its portion. “Momma kat, it’s good that you’re watching me to keep your kitties safe, but take a look at them. The bigger kitties aren’t letting the runt eat. Momma,” implored William, “look at your kitties!” As was always surprising to William, the mother kat seemed to understand his words, and she turned her attention to the kittens. When she walked over, she saw that most of the food was gone and she looked back at William. “O.K., just stay calm momma. You’re probably not gonna like this.” William then walked to within a few feet of the kittens, took off his backpack, sat down with his back against the fence and reached inside the backpack. The momma kat, not understanding what was happening, faced William and began hissing defiantly at him as she slowly approached. Her kittens crowded around her for safety. “Trust me, momma. Just trust me, O.K.?” William then pulled an additional paper plate from his backpack, along with another large can of cat food. After opening the can, he poured the majority of the food on the first paper plate, but he also poured a generous amount of food on the second paper plate. “Don’t overreact momma. Just stay calm.” William then reached over to the kittens, picked up the runt, placed him on his lap, and gave him his own plate of food from which to feed. The three larger kittens attacked the newly added food, while the runt ate peacefully on William’s lap. The mother kat stared at William for about thirty seconds, then joined her other kittens at the paper plate so she could have a decent breakfast. Slowly and carefully, William produced a container of milk and a paper bowl and laid it out for the family. He pulled out a second paper bowl, added some milk, and offered it to the runt of the litter. The runt was wholly relaxed by now and accepted the offering of milk. As the family of kitties finished their meal, the three larger kittens began looking at the momma kat for a clue as to how to behave around the first human that they had encountered. The momma kat walked over to William, climbed onto his lap, and laid down next to the runt. The other kittens walked over to William, and climbed onto his legs, or laid down peacefully against his legs. As William watched the family of kats enjoying his presence, he looked down at the momma kat, and their eyes met. William reached down and began gently petting her back. After a few minutes, the other kittens moved onto William’s lap and started enjoying his petting of them and the occasional neck scratches which they all particularly enjoyed. After a few minutes of this, William noticed the momma kat staring into his eyes again. As he stared back, she began to contently purr. “So I guess this means you are a cat now? And that your kittens are really kittens?” “Meow,” was the answer from the momma cat, but it was a long, drawn-out meow. “And that means I should go shopping for a house and give all of you a proper home?” Another long drawn-out “Meow” came from the momma cat, with her kittens joining in with their mother’s meows. When the meows ended, a slight chorus of purring was emitted by all the assembled family. “O.K., momma cat. You win. Today I begin house shopping. I noticed a nice two-story house down the street last week that’s up for sale. Will that do?” The momma cat answered with a single meow. “So that means I get to name all of you? Momma cat, how about I call you Katherine, so I can call you Kat for short. Will that do?” “Meow,” answered Kat.


Mommy and Daddy are happy today. I know they are because they came in my room smiling and carrying a huge cake. It's my birthday today. I smile at then as they sing Happy birthday and then I get to pretend blow it the candle. We can't have real candles in my room. Mommy got in trouble last time. But it's still fun to pretend. I got a new truck and coloring books. I even ate three whole bites of cake! But then I started getting tired again so Daddy called the nurse. She took my temperature and fluffed my pillow and told me happy birthday too. I smiled because I was too tired to say thank you. Soon, I feel asleep, but I didn't sleep long. Somebody woke me up by rubbing my back. I looked up and saw a grand pa man smiling at me. "Come on champ, it's time to go." I sat up and yawned."I'm not supposed to leave my room." His warm hand gently held mine and made me feel safe. He smiled and his eyes wrinkled up. "I know. But we are just going to walk to the door. We will stay in your room. Besides, I've got a present over there for you." I looked across the room but the door was hard to look at. I guessed it was okay so I nodded and slid off the bed. As we got closer to the door, it was harder and harder to look at, so I just looked at the floor. Slowly, the floor faded into grass, and I could smell flowers. I looked up and gasped. Everything was gone. No more hospital room, now I was in a big feild of flowers. There man laughed a little and crinkled his eyes at me again. "Do you like to paint?" He asked. "Yeah! I can't paint all kinds of things. My mommy said..." I felt sad and wondered where my mommy was. The man squatted down and wrapped me in a hug. "Your mommy is just fine. She's a little sad but she will be okay. Would you like to paint her a present?" I wiped my tears and nodded. "Come on then." I heard the yips and meows before I saw the baskets of kittens and puppies. All of them were White, like blank paper. He took me to a basket full of paint brushes and paints. "This is heaven, son. But you have a very important job here. All these pets need painting before they go to see their mommies. Over the hill are other kids just like you for you to play with and all the food you ever want. But I bet you want to pick one out and paint it special for your Mom first." "I can't see my mommy any more can I?" I got another hug. "No, son, but you can send her a pet. " I picked up a really small sleepy kitten. Maybe he can be orange. Mommy liked pretty things. I started to paint and all the sadness left me. When I was done I handed the kitten to the man. "Be careful. That's my mommies special Kitty." The man smiled and nodded, then he disappeared. So I picked up a wrinkley puppy and started putting poka dots on him. I think I'm going to like it here.


OH MY GOD ITS MORNING I GET TO DO STUFF AGAIN!!! I SHOULD GO WAKE UP MY PERSON!! HE’S THE BEST CAUSE HE FEEDS ME TAKES CARE OF ME AND TAKES ME ON WALKS. SOMETIMES HE EVEN GIVES ME FOOD JUST FOR PUTTING MY BUTT ON THE FLOOR HE CALLS THIS “Sit”. Oh, I’m so sorry where are my manners, my names Daisy and I’m a poodle, I live here with my person. OH MY GOD MY PERSON I NEED TO GET HIM UP. I WANNA DO STUFF WITH HIM...I need to use one of the trees for some “doggy business too” I charge up to his bed and launch myself on it. I start to give him good morning kisses which I know is definitely his favorite way to get up and I start telling him to get up. HEY GET UP WAKE UP I MISSED YOU WHEN I WAS SLEEPING WAKE UPPP!! I should tell you a little bit about him. He’s about 400 paws tall and has grey hair, grey skin, and wears a lot of grey clothes. I guess it his favorite so its my favorite too. He starts to sit up and I’m so excited to see him but I NEED TO USE THE BATHROOM. I run out of his room and down to the door so I can go outside. I start asking him to open the door and scratch at it so that he knows which door I wanna go out of. He walks over and lets me out so naturally I bolt out the door. YAY OUTSIDE!!! I LOVE IT!! I start running around as fast as I can in a circle just to show him how fast I am. HEY LOOK HOW FAST I AM LOOK AT ME LOOK HOW FAST I AM. OH MY GOD I NEED TO USE THE BATHROOM RIGHT NOW!! I squat down and start to go to the bathroom but I was going to fast and I kinda flip over myself paws over tail. I get up and keep on going to the bathroom I look to my left and there's my person looking gray as all heck just watching me making sure I’m safe while I’m defending our property from the squirrels, chipmunks, and other animals that think they can just come here and free load off of us. After defending the perimeter and marking my territory I decided it was time to go back inside. I run up to my grey friend at the door and just start to jump up onto him so he knows how much I missed him while I was protecting us. “Daisy you want some Breakfast?” He asks and I’m just like, BREAKFAST YOU MEAN MORNING FOOD RIGHT AWWEEE HECK YEAH I’M HUNGRY. I just hope that he switches up my food one of these days I’m pretty tired of eating the same thing twice a day for the Past 63 years but I’m just happy that my person feeds me everyd-SQUIRREL!!! GET OUT OF HERE HES ON THE WINDOW LET ME GET HIM LET ME OUT I’LL GET HIM. COME ON LEMME GET HIM. OOOHH FOOD YUM. I start chowing down it's a little dry to be honest but I’ve never gone hungry so I guess I really can’t complain. I finish my breakfast and decide to post up on the couch and wait to see what’s going on today. My person sits down next to me and starts scratching behind my ears which is THE BEST. “Who’s a good girl?” He asks. I AM I AM I’M A GOOD GIRL YES I AM I’M THE GOODEST OF ALL THE GIRLS I PROMISE. “Daisy come on let’s go for a walk.” DID HE JUST SAY WALK!! I launch myself off of the couch, pull my leash off of its holder and plop my butt down right by the door. HEY HURRY UP I WANNA WALK LET’S GOOOO. He comes up shoes on and grabs my leash and hooks me up. We start strolling around the neighborhood and we’re keeping up a nice little pace I could do this for hours. I see one of the other people that live near us and I want to say hi but I don’t want to leave my person because I don’t want him getting jealous of anyon-SQUIRREL!!!! Anyone because he’s my favorite and I want to make sure that he knows. We get back to the house and we play fetch down the hill with a frisbee. It’s so much fun but I don’t always like giving it back to him but he doesn’t seem to mind. After a little bit my person is laying down in this big hammock I jump up and start to cuddle with him. He has a couple friends come over and he feeds me. We sit outside all night laying in the Hammock right next to the crackling fire and just cuddle up to one another all night. Eventually I fall asleep right next to him. He wakes me up the fire is out and his friends have all left. He picks me up and cradles me in his arms I gently give him kisses in my half asleep state. We make our way inside and he lays me down on his bed gives me a kiss and he walks into the bathroom to brush his teeth. I can feel myself starting to doze off again. All I can think about is what adventures we have instore for us tomorrow, all i know is that I can’t wait.


The year is 3003. The world has seen great strides in technological advancements, specifically space travel. Every planet in our Milky Way is now inhabited by Humans, but not all planets are thriving. The planet Togo for example is used for human experimentation by the government in order to see how people would react to an extremely hot climate. They wanted to see the psychological and physical effects of extreme heat and how heat strokes affect the body in a different planet, so they could effectively find ways to colonize planets in extreme weather conditions. It was advertised as the dream planet, beautiful landscapes, high paying mining jobs and a better life for my family and I. We were deceived. Tricked into believing that this place could be our home. When our ship arrived near the ground, what we saw was horrifying. There was nothing but a scorching lava bed greeting us, with magma overflowing everywhere we looked. The agents took us to a large, abandoned, wooden shack that was atop of a cliff. This cliff was away from all of the magma and lava below. Surely this must of been some sort of mistake, this place is not what was advertised, at all. I knew that we had to escape, soon. When we took our first steps off of our shuttles and on to this foreign place, the heat was extreme. I felt my sweat evaporate. They took us to our tiny rooms, with no insulation or windows. I told my family that we have to get out of here. The room next to us, someone was screaming. "Jake, wake up!". I was unsure of what just happened, but I assumed that the mother had just lost his son to a heat stroke. I started getting delirious, the heat was getting to me. I needed to escape, we needed to escape. I needed to find the perfect opportunity to leave, but the problem is I don't know when nightfall is on this planet. It's always day time. We waited hours on end until we decided now was the time to leave. We left our things here and my wife and I busted down the door. The exit was to our left, but two platinum clad guards were to our right. I told my wife to leave without me while I distract the guards. As my family left on the shuttles without me, I was taken to the Administrator and he said to me that I was banished from this place. The guards threw me off of the cliff-side into the lava bed below. Little did they know, I survived the fall, just barely though. I had scratches and bruises everywhere from the fall, and I could not see from my left eye. It was over. Never again will I see my beautiful family, or at least I thought. I saw it. My escape shuttle, but it was beneath a crumbling surface. I crawled towards the shuttle, but I was unsure if I could make it. I was getting delirious, dizzy. Tired and sweaty from all of the heat. I nearly fainted until a small blob of lava hit my backside, immediately putting me back to reality. I kept crawling towards the shuttle and got into the small, closed off container. I didn't know how to operate this machine, and the ground was shaking quite rapidly. I needed to leave this planet immediately. There was a huge button labelled "LAUNCH", I pressed it. The thrusters were not elevating my ship off this planet. I must have pressed it over a million times before my finger started bleeding, but the ship finally started moving away from this terrible place. My ship landed in a mysterious place. And that is the story of how I ended up on this peaceful planet. I do not know where my family is, but I hope they are as happy as I am. \ Yikes. I don't think this is that good of a story but I decided to post this so that way some other people could see for themselves if it is good or not. It's no secret that I'm an amateur(In high school at that). If you are interested, I have similar stories but beware of the writing quality. Thanks for reading.