Slowly stirring her coffee, Celine looked over her friend's shoulder and through the window. Across the street was the unimaginatively named “Celine's Antiques.” A small door set in a honey-colored stone wall next to a bow-window disguised the store's true size. While only 12 feet wide the uneven oak floors went back a long way, back to the massive black desk where Celine spent much of her time. “So, resolutions this year?” Celine turned her attention back to Lorna. “Mmm, I don't know. I should think about it shouldn't I?” “Did you make any last year? I don't remember.” Lifting the white coffee cup from its white saucer, Celine leaned back in her chair. “Well yes, I did.” Lorna gazed directly at her old college roommate. “Well? How did they turn out?” Celine took a sip, looking back at Lorna across the froth. “Pretty well actually.” At that Lorna leaned forward, tucking a length of glossy chocolate-brown hair behind one ear. Dark chocolate that is, not the pale milk kind. Celine looked around the coffee shop. Other than two teenage wannabe baristas behind the counter they had the place to themselves. A small town in the English Cotswolds, Tetbury was usually quiet on Tuesday afternoons, and especially so in January. Celine leaned in towards Lorna. “Well I made three.” Lorna's thin eyebrows climbed a little higher up her forehead as she waited. “I told you about “After All That,” Celine continued. “Well that was the first. I said I'd write a novel and there it is, done. Coming out in April.” Now it was Lorna's turn to sit back in her chair and sip some coffee. “I think that's just amazing. I can’t wait to read it. But how did you find the time when you had the shop to run and you were dating Elliot?” Celine put her cup back on its saucer. “Well I had...” She hesitated before continuing, “No, it wasn't easy, but I was very determined.” “That's true. Well you always have been of course. You wouldn't have got the job with O'Connor otherwise.” “You know, I loved working there but I don't miss it at all.” This was true. Long hours in airports and hotels, the phone buzzing almost constantly, a laptop her only companion. Consulting paid well but demanded total commitment. Lots of income but little time in which to spend it, as Celine would tell her mother. There had been times when she’d quite envied Lorna with her dependable husband and two annoyingly cute kids. Lorna wondered if Celine was steering the conversation in a different direction. You can't share a room with someone for three years without becoming attuned to every nuance and emotion, no matter how well hidden. “So, your first resolution was to write a novel and you did it. But what about the other two?” Celine flashed her big toothy smile. “You met one of them last night, Elliot.” “Elliott was your New Year resolution?” “Well not him exactly, but I resolved to meet someone I really want to be with, and so I did.” Lorna laughed a little. “Your Mum's nagging finally paid off eh?' Celine grimaced a little. There was an element of truth in this. More than once Mum had suggested she should find herself a nice man. Celine would explain that her schedule left no time for dating, which inevitably prompted a minor burst of hurrumphing. Then, when her mother lay in the hospital, her urging became more serious. “Find a nice man Celine,” she'd say, “Life's so much better when you share it with someone else.” Sensing that maybe she'd stepped into a sensitive area, Lorna began to backpedal. “He seems lovely, kind and respectful and smart, but not too smart.” Celine nodded at this, “I got lucky when he came into the shop. I wasn't expecting it but one day there he was, looking for a desk and, well you know the rest.” “That shop's been good for you in so many ways. You're so much more relaxed now, you look happier, healthier. I'm really glad it's working out for you.” “Thank you. Well it was tough at first, you know that. Mom's money let me buy the place but it wasn't going to last long. I’ll be honest, I was struggling, and then, well I guess I just had a little luck.” “Luck?” “Uh huh.” Celine wasn't about to go into detail. She would never relate the story of how she summoned up the courage to go down into the dark, damp cellar and poke around hoping to find something she could sell. No, that story would never be shared. “So? What about the third resolution?” “Mm well, I resolved to make a success of the shop, and I did.” While Lorna stared at her old friend, trying to make sense of this Celine looked out through the window again. Her eyes were fixed on her little shop, unobtrusive in a line of bigger stores with fancier doors and more elaborate window displays. It was all very well saying, “Buy low, sell high,” or “Maximize revenue generation,” as she'd typed into so many PowerPoint presentations during her consulting career, but antique selling was a competitive business. You needed a constant stream of desirable objects to sell, and that didn't happen by accident. Without contacts and sources, it was impossible to stock the shop with things people wanted to buy, especially at prices that would yield a profit. Lorna broke the silence, “But how? I mean I know you understand business, but you must have changed something. I mean when we met up last January you said it was struggling.” Celine nodded. It was true, the last twelve months had seen dramatic changes. She'd gone from owner of a struggling antiques store destined for a life of spinsterhood to successful author and businesswoman with an attractive, supportive partner. It was as if ... well Lorna was never going to understand, so best to say nothing. Lorna spoke again, “I mean, we all make resolutions, but they don't really achieve anything. I can never keep mine more than a few weeks. What's your secret? What did you do differently?” Celine stared out across the street for a long time before replying. “Well, I guess it was more three wishes than three resolutions. I wished for three things, and I got them.” Lorna frowned now. “What aren't you telling me?” Celine closed her eyes for a moment, long enough to remember how she'd rummaged through the big wooden chest she'd found in the cellar. There'd been some old lace tablecloths in it, interesting for some people yet of no real value. Then, as she straightened up and looked at the chest again, she'd noticed how the base of the inside seemed much closer than the stone floor outside. The only light came from a dim bulb at the top of the stairs so it was hard to make out details. Leaning down again, Celine rapped her knuckles on the bottom. It rang hollow. She tried again in a different place, and a third time. Each time she knocked against the bottom of the chest the same result, as if there was a compartment concealed below the wooden panel. In the gloom it was difficult to see how the bottom of the chest was configured, so she moved across from left to right, tapping and pushing. And then a panel moved, sliding forward underneath its neighbor. As it moved an object was revealed, brass-colored but it took Celine a few moments to put a name to its form. A lamp, she realized, it was an old oil lamp. Lifting it out, her first thought was that it must be a theatrical prop, but that didn't make much sense. It was heavy, much heavier than she expected. If it was just a prop, why go to the trouble of hiding it away? Turning towards the light for a better view, Celine saw what looked like a line of characters running circumferentially around the lamp just above its base. The metal was tarnished so she rubbed her fingers over the letters. A blinding flash filled the dark cellar. Celine's first thought was that the electrical box had exploded. Then as a sulphurous odor reached her nostrils she became more certain there had been an electrical fault. Her eyes were still recovering from the flash; there were blue spots in her direct line of sight so she tried looking obliquely towards the light, or where the light was. She couldn't see it now, there was something between her and the base of the cellar steps. Not something, someone. Celine shrieked and stepped back, grabbing the lamp by the spout, ready to swing it like a club or cudgel. Then the figure spoke. “Be not afraid.” His voice was a deep baritone and he spoke slowly. “Get out of my shop.” Celine tried to make her voice strong and confident. “I've got a weapon.” Her eyes were recovering now and she could make out the silhouette of a large man, wide, muscular shoulders and something on his head. “I will not harm you. I am here to serve you.” “GET … OUT … OF … MY … SHOP! NOW!” “You have released me. For that I must grant you three wishes.” She could see better now, and in the gloom she realized the man was shirtless. The thing on his head was a turban, from his waist down he wore some kind of elaborately patterned harem pants. Celine opened her eyes and saw Lorna staring directly at her. “Well?” said Lorna. It was ridiculous. Celine knew she could never explain. Heck, she wasn't even sure she understood it herself. Had she started describing how a Genii had appeared in the cellar of her store Lorna would be calling for medical assistance in minutes. No, best to keep it simple. “I guess sometimes,” she paused before continuing, “When we're in a really low place, well maybe that can spark something, you know. And I was in a bad place the last time you saw me, but I resolved to change things, and I did.” Lorna shock her head quietly. “Well the change in you is just amazing. If that's what resolutions can do, I'm making some tonight.” Celine nodded in agreement. What else could she say?


(the mid of class) Rose and her friends were going to get some water and at that moment Rose saw an attractive boy. (Rose, taking a glance of the boy) A boy who looked like he has come from heaven, his curly brown hair and shaded blue eye which resembled like a peacock's feather, was different. (Friends laughing and fooling around) She told her friends that see, see that boy looks like a Princely Angel. her friends were shocked because they were not able to see him. he is just there in front of my eyes, she said. Her friends were so shocked that how is she able to see someone, who is invisible to the naked eye. They wondered, is she some super natural? Is she blessed? Then, the reality hit, no one's so special. And later one friend high fived Eve. (Behind the scenes) Rose was blindly in love with that mysterious boy, she visioned something, her friend, Eve's glass bottle would fall down, when she high fives. Rose felt that was a dejavu and just ignored, (Loud was of shattering, Eve's bottle falls down) Rose was astonished! She goes back to class and later, goes home. (Rose while walking home, sees the boy) Rose : hey, hi (The guy doesn't respond) There!! She had a vision again! (An old lady, trying to cross the road would get hit by a car.) She was at the zebra crossing waiting for the signal to turn green. She sees the same old lady, she was frightened but thought of following her instincts and go behind her. She sees the car approaching. The woman approaching towards the car, there she was, Rose pulled the woman out of the way and gets hit by the car. (Honks and ambulance sounds) Rose finds herself in the hospital. (Rose thinking in the hospital) She thought alot what had happened to her? How is she in the hospital? Who had taken her to the hospital?* She asked the nurse that what had happened to her. But the nurse sadly told that she knew nothing about the accident. A few days later, as she recovers, she goes back home and then back to her normal life and school. She thought, what really was happening to her, she never used to get dejavu and all. She goes to school. Enter her classroom and there a friend of hers calls her to discuss about a college event. At that moment, she sees that guy again and tries to follow him this time. (she follows him and enters into a strange room) There.. She sees a weird door and that guy and has a dejavu again. (She sees that she in the college event and wins the Miss fresher award and later, the whole event sinks into the fire) she faints there. Her friends try finding her but were unable to find her, then Eve sees a room which was somewhat different and there, she was Rose, who was fallen on the ground. Eve woke Rose by pouring water droplets. Rose opened her eye and Eve hugged her. She asked rose that whether she was fine. She asked Rose that they didn't find her anywhere. Eve: What had happened? How did you reach this place? We were all worried about you. We are relieved now. Rose : I don't know what had happened to me? I don't remember how I reached here, in this room! I followed a guy,he was strange. I shouted for help. No one heard, I fainted in astonishment. (Rose and Eve see that room again.) (The room was so dark like a night sky and there was no light around. Room had a strange door) They were scared! They left the place. (Rose pondering, how was she able to see future? Was she cursed with some evil power? She was so scared that she couldn’t even tell this thing to her friends) Eve asked Rose that was she fine. She asked her if she could help Rose get home. Rose refuses the offer and goes home by her own. (she sees him while going home) Rose: Hey, I know you know what is happening with me? Why am I able to see the future only when you around me? The guy finally tells that he is the one who is supposed to protect her from evil power and tells her that she was born with powers of seeing future whenever he comes around her. She was shocked and asked who is the evil person, who wants to kill her. (at home) She tries to remember the vision and writes it, looking at the what was written, she finds a way out. At that time she calls her friend Eve for help. (Rose and Eve planning to save the college from fire) * (The college event day! ) Eve to rose : you look marvellous. (Rose look like curly black hair and shaded blue eye, her dress was like red color one piece. She looked like a princess) Rose told thank you Eve. Eve replied welcome. ( the college event starts) (In the beginning they were supposed to do ramp walk) Rose was above to do her ramp walk with her friend but then that guy again appeared and she was shocked what will happen to college event now. (Rose again had a vision of that strange room, this time she saw a strange door and she opened that room) Rose fainted. That guy lifted her and brought her to that room and told because of her, he lost his super power and now he going to kill her. The guy told he was suppose to marry her. But you got to know about my plan and ran away.( Rose got know about her evil plan of running the world.) So to stop him, she time travel to this year where this all started and got a super power of seeing the future whenever I m in front of her. (Eve searching Rose here and there) Eve shouting Rose where are you? Rose are you there? Rose Rose Rose. Rose, Eve help me, I m locked in this room, please help me in tears. (Eve searching Rose and then reach that strange room.) Eve tried to open the room but was not able to. Then she brought a rod from side and broke the lock. She opens the door. (Rose saw Eve was very happy and hugged her with tears) Eve: Rose what has happened to you? Why are you in this room? And is everything fine with you? Rose: Eve I don't know what had happened to me. I am scared. (Starts crying) (Eve hugged her) Rose and Eve then leave the room. But Rose was worried that how will she save herself from that guy and her friend, even college. But this time Rose got all her confidence to do this. Rose and Eve preform as per the plan and Rose win Miss Fresher title and that time she remembered that the back stage curtain had caught fire. She tries to stop the fire, Eve helps her and stops the fire. (The guy again appears) He tells he could not kill her again, This time Rose knew what she to do so that he wont kill his friend Eve and her too. The guy : finally I get a chance tell about himself in front of all. ( the guy laugh loudly and people around get scared with his evil laugh) He tells that he is Michael and he is the one whom Rose was able to see and and and I am here to kill her. Hahahaha ( the guy again laughs a loud) (The crowd fainted because of his evil laugh) Rose and Eve, we won't let this happen. (The guy, Rose and Eve fights with the sword) Michael was on the floor and Rose kept sword on his face and then he vainshed in the thin air. Rose was shocked and confused. Eve was like how can he vainsh. Rose thought thought where can he be? Again and again. Then she realised that he can be in that strange room. (Rose and Eve ran to that room) (The room opens he laugh a loud) You have come here,for your dead, now you both going die. (Michael laughs aloud again) This time Rose and Michael fought badly and then Rose push him in the strange door of that room. Eve opens her eye asked where did that guy go. Then Rose tells Eve that I m blessed with the power of seeing future and I realised that when I saw Michael for the first time. This time I had vision that the strange door is answer for everything and when I opened got to know. Eve was like are you witch? How can this happen? I am scared!! Rose told that when I opened that strange room she saw a universe and she pushed that guy there. (She understood that she is not from this world too) She didn't tell eve about a piece of letter. (And after that she got a piece of letter. (She opened that letter) It was letter written by her father( who was a great magician of his time ) The letter Hey Rose, I know you have many questions like how are you able to see the future? What is the aim of your life? Who are your actual parent? Rose calm down I am your dad Mike and was a great magician, I was blessed with the power of seeing future and this power went to my child that was you. When you were born, Michael came to kill you. But was not able to kill you and in angry he killed your mother. In that sadness, I left behind to kill him and I am sorry for whatever happened with you. Now when you are reading this, it means you have realised that you have super power to see future and that time you wont remember about your past. It told that the person who kill you will rule the world so Michael wanted to kill you, to rule the world. Now that you know about your super power, Use it wise my child. I love you my child Rose.) Rose told Eve, I am alright and I m happy to see you fine. Let's go and enjoy college party. ( when they goes see everyone dancing in the party) Rose and Eve danced and made a promise that they won't leave each other. The end!


It was Niagara Falls 2010. It's a small town everyone knows everyone. People are really polite almost all the time. Every morning I go down to the coffee shop at the corner to do my work. I always saw the same people. We became friends. Then on weekends I would stay home with my dog. I just went out to shop and walks. I liked staying home. Getting everything organized from the past week. I live in a one bedroom apartment. Well condominium building. It's pretty quiet most of the time, you can here the neighbors taking out garbage. I've lived here for about a year now. I don't go everywhere here I stay away from the casinos. So do most of us that live here. I sit and type at the coffee shop for two hours each day. I'm writing an biography I'm a ghost writer. I get different projects. A month ago I put an ad, in a local website to look for a roommate. It's too quite around here most of the time. I got a few responses then one day I got this man. I had so many people inquire I didn't care anymore. We have a set of rules and were both sucking to it. It helps with the rent in case I don't get paid on time. That way I don't have to get stressed out. It's nice to have company aswell other than my dog. Luckily he works weekends works out great. About a year went by. Every thing was working out just fine. It wasn't anything with the roommate. Strange things started to happen. I would go to the coffee shop and my drink would be paid for. I would go home and there would be a broken cup. It's wired. I had a boyfriend years ago. I wonder what's going on. I guess you can say I have a haunted pass. He tries to find me every now and then. That's why I'm here in Niagara Falls. I can basically write anywhere. At one point I had a restraining order. Every thing seems okay for a long time. I'm probably just over thinking. I hope . I heard something dropped I jumped. My roommate was out of town tell Sunday night. Noone else is coming by. I sat down and tried to forget everything. Oh my there's a car out side. I've never seen here before. How wired I was thinking. I phoned my roommate to say I think I'm going out of town aswell. I'll be back Tuesday. I booked a hotel in Toronto for tell Tuesday. I'm alittle scare that someone is following me again. I have a couple old friends from school. I wouldn't mind meeting. I gave them a call they were both free. Thank goodness. I keep checking my back. Looks like that car didn't follow me here. I probably was just being paranoid. I checked into the hotel and everything seemed okay. Still checking my back every five minutes. Meet my friends the next day. We went to the spa and had dinner. I decided to go back home. Once I was clam. That was a fun weekend. Just in time for my roommate, Donnald to come back aswell. "I'm surprised to see you here" Yeah just stayed the two nights and came back. I was getting stressed out. " "Is everything ok?" "Yes of course thank you!" It happened again another glass broke and that car is still there. The roommate asked again. "Are you sure everything is okay?" Well kind of. It was for a long while. Now I'm scared really scared." Wait the door rang. "Can you look please I'm too scared." It was just some flowers left near the door. "Your scared of flowers?" The roommate said. "No no of course not. I have to be honest and tell you I have a haunted pass. For the longest time everything was okay. Honest about five years now. Until you went away. I guess I was being followed by my ex boyfriend. He's nuts totally of the wall. I didn't no how to end it so I ghosted him. He wouldn't take no for an answer. I had no choice." "Oh that sounds horrible." "For a long while it was. I have a restraining order. I guess after five years I forgot they expire. That's why I left aswell. I noticed that car the minute you pulled away. " "Thank goodness your back." "Should I be scared to?" "No just me he's really off the wall. Should we call for help no not right now. It's not an emergency yet." "True." "Just keep the lights on all night so it's not dark if you don't mind. Do you have a small light for the room? "Of course I do." I couldn't sleep all night. I heard the wind. I heard the rain. I heard people coming and going from the building. Its horrible I can't sleep. My pass is on my mind. I can't stop thinking about it. I'm scared this guy is crazy. Okay breath, not working. Maybe I should call the authorities. They came in about two hours. I explained everything I could remember. That was so tiring. The two officers went behind where the car was. They did alcohol test. He was really drunk. Off to jail again. They asked if I wanted the information? Then they remembered they had everything on file. I can't believe I totally forgot about my past. I must have blocked it out. I really forgot. If they renew the restiraing order I better write it down. I feel better now going to rest. I'm going to make some hot tea and take a hot shower. Im going to wear my favorite pink pajamas. I'm going to sleep tell the morning. I no I'm safe now. To be honest I thought he forgot about me aswell. I guess I was mistaken. The end By Ellen Urowitz July 23rd 2020 Inspired by prompt haunted pass until the end.


How can I convince my friend, that she will be alright; when I too am terrified of flying? Our foolish husbands jump on and off flights like it is second nature. If I had a dollar for every time I heard “tis safer up there than driving on 295!”. Maybe but, I saw a plane crash in a field on 9/11/01. I quiver, when I think of the first-time flyers on that flight. Although I was just driving up the road towards the crash site, when the aircraft narrowly missed my roof. I immediately dialed 911. The line was busy for over three hours. I tried every 10 minutes for an hour, until I saw the news reporting the attack on the twin towers. Someone drove to the military base near the original crash site that I witnessed. I went to work not knowing what I had just seen was part of a sinister plan to commit suicidal attacks. On September 11, 2001, 19 militants associated with the Islamic extremist group al Qaeda hijacked four airplanes and carried out suicide attacks against targets in the United States. Two of the planes were flown into the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York City, a third plane hit the Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia, just outside Washington, D.C., and the fourth plane crashed in a field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. Almost 3,000 people were killed during the 9/11 terrorist attacks, which triggered major U.S. initiatives to combat terrorism and defined the presidency of George W. Bush. Usually our town may see an occasional farming accident or a car wreck. Although, no one survived the crash to be treated in our hospital, we had a run of people who had anxiety attacks. Every year since that day we honor the loss of three thousand innocent souls. People who just wanted to go from point “A” to point “B”, just like we do right now. Hopefully my fear is unwarranted! A vacation to the Bahamas sounded good when he said he would book a cruise; my fear of flying outweighs my fear of a watery death. My theory is that we shouldn’t both be on the same flight so, I secretly changed my travel mode to a later date and I know that he’ll be furious but my fear is real. We have young children who will need a parent after vacation. Am I being ridiculous, maybe? Please do understand my fear, it’s not just all in my mind. I have been a nurse for 35 years and I have been beside at least four doctors when they informed families of their love one’s sudden death involving an airplane. Most were single engine planes being piloted by rookies. Nonetheless, one plane crash is enough, to witness or to survive. My husband knows I was in the military but he didn’t know I was a nurse on “Project Angel Flight” we airlifted soldiers from the military hospital back stateside. Often when the enemy realized what our plane did, they’d view us as terrorist and attempt to shoot us down. Several times we were hit and had to put down outside the war zone in order to do repairs before continuing. Each time we sat down we struggled to take off again. Although, commercial flights are different I still would rather just do a staycation. Stay on the ground, stay close to home and the kids. When I began writing this I was trying to convince myself that I was just being crazy. I just looked up to see what time it was and I noticed its 9/9/22 and I am supposed to be flying on Sunday.  9/11, hasn’t bothered me before, I mean since 2001. The nation seemed to have recovered from that day with the capture of Osama Bin Laden. I never wanted to hurt my husband or our friends but I will not be stepping on a plane that day or any day this week. Donald Trump, refused to accept defeat and wound up his followers up so much with an insurection back in January that I truly think something will happen this weekend, especially since Mar a Lago was raided this week. I don’t want to see anyone else get arrested because of their loyalties to that comb-over fool. “Suck it up girl, your family is waiting for you. Figure it out you can’t drive to the Bahamas. You’re 56, being scared is one thing; but being paralyzed is crippling! What have you told many patients before. Take your own advice. I understand what you have lived through but you LIVED! No, your husband didn’t know your story before booking the flight but you’re going to need to work it out, faster. You’re a believing Christian so you say on Sundays. So, this Sunday you have to prove it.” I know mom, I wish you were here instead of in my head. Tossed and turned all night. Cried in the shower, prayed while getting dressed. White knuckled and needing a drink before we take off, I’m here. Yup, in seat fifteen over the wing in first class. I am doing what I need to in order to join my husband and friends. Hopefully, the sea sickness medicine will kick in before we take off. I’d love to sleep the whole way there. I don’t want to feel the turbulence of liftoff or landing. I hear you, you’re wondering if I am this afraid of flying how was I an Angel Flight nurse for over 30 years? In flight I didn’t have time to think of myself or my fears. I was too busy helping to keep our patient stable, comfortable and alive. There were only five people on board those flights two pilots, the patient, the doctor and me. Most flights were uneventful, but then the ones when your patient start to go towards the light is interesting because the last thing you want is to lose someone in mid-flight.


Gia was only 15

years old when she looked into the eyes of Cody for the first time. It took less than a minute for her soul to recognize him. Then without saying a word he turned and walked away from her. The sharp sting her heart felt never went away although he did. One day he just didn’t come to school. Someone told her that he had moved away suddenly. She regretted not speaking to him.

Gia married Henry Jackson Broussard in the summer after she graduated from college. She had plans to become a teacher but her plans changed after she married Henry and had three kids in almost as many years. She spent the next 20 years raising kids and raising Henry. She had no regrets though. Raising her kids was the best job she could have had but raising Henry was a different story. Most days after work Henry would sit in his chair in the living room and read a book about fishing or some other sport. He would barely even look at her as she raced around the house doing things for the kids and trying to cook dinner for everyone. He would moan and groan when one of the kids would ask him for something and direct them back to her for their needs and wants. Gia would cook and clean and put the kids to bed all while Henry read his books, and mumbled a few words to her here and there during

the evening. It went on like this for over 40 years.

Henry passed away after

43 years of marriage. Gia had a small memorial service for him as he requested. Small was all she could have since Henry only had few friends and fewer relatives. People gathered at the church said a few words and gave Gia and her kids their condolences and that was the end. Gia went back home and sorted out the knitting she could never finish while Henry was alive. She was just about to start when she got a knock on the door. Henry’s lawyer was standing there with a large manila envelope. He held it out for Gia to take and she did. “What’s this?” She asked. “Henry wanted me to give it to you after the service. I think it is very private so you might want to open it after the people from the service leave the house.” He answered. “No worries there. There aren’t any people here. They all went home after the service.” Gia took the envelope and closed the door. She studied the envelope which only had her name on the front written in Henry’s sloppy handwriting. She really didn’t want to open it since Henry was not a man of nice words or many words. What could he possibly want her to read and should she even bother reading it. You didn’t have to read something from a dead person right? Gia tossed the envelope on the coffee table in front of the sofa. She picked up her knitting needles and proceeded to try to finish knitting the scarf she had started months ago for her oldest son.

The envelope was a distraction though. She gazed at it a few times while knitting and decided to pick it up again. Perhaps it was a

letter thanking her for over 40 years of cleaning, cooking, raising kids, waiting on him hand and foot, giving up her dreams for his. Maybe it said that he appreciated everything she had done over all those years and how much he truly loved her and the kids. Maybe it said all the stuff he never told her in life and now he was telling her in death.

She picked up the envelope and looked at it once more unopened and she opened it. It was pages and pages of Henry’s sloppy handwriting. She didn’t know what he would have to say in all these pages but she was about to find out. My dearest Gia, If you are reading this I am probably dead and buried. I told my lawyer, Steve, not to give this to you until both of those things had taken place. Now, my dear, I can tell you what I could not tell you in life. I am going to tell you something that will shake you and I can only hope that you forgive me. I tried to tell you several times when I was here with you but I just couldn’t find the words. How could I tell you something that would bring you so much pain and so much anger? I could not. I made a promise to you father that I would never tell you. Yes, dear, he also knew this secret. He was the one who actually started this whole chain of events over 40 years ago. I am not sure even now how to tell you. But, Gia, please find a quiet spot in the house when you finish reading this, away from everyone. If the kids are there please wait until they leave. If anyone is there please wait untl they are gone. After you read this until the end your reaction will not be good and you will not want to have anyone around you. Trust and believe that.

My love, it all started the summer before I met you. I was working for your father in his law office. I was still in law school at the time and was trying to get a mentor, someone to show me the ropes so to say. As you know your father was a strong willed man and wanted the best for you and all of his kids. He rarely took no for an answer and it was his way or the highway. I was working there for about 6 months before he even said one word to me. He was a watcher. He watched me all those months. He wanted to know how I handled myself in all kinds of situations and he tested me without me knowing. Than one day he came over to my desk and he asked me what my goals were in life. I told him that I wanted to be a successful lawyer like he was. I told him eventually I wanted a wife and kids and to live in the suburbs in a house I owned. He grilled me further about my family, my character, my religion, everything he could think of.

We talked that day for hours and the next day after for months. I didn’t know why at the time. I didn’t understand all the questions. I just thought well, maybe he wanted to know me better. Maybe he took a liking to me.

Both of those things were true but that was not the real reason.

He told me about you. He said he had an older daughter who wanted to be a teacher. He told me your name was Gia and you were like him

more than his other children. You were ambitious like him and were a no nonsense type of person. He said that I would make the right husband for you. I was speechless. I didn’t know what to say. I asked him if you shouldn’t be the one to choose your husband and not him. He looked at me with a fire in his eyes, a fire I have never seen before in anyone’s eyes since and he told me in no uncertain terms that he was the head of his family and he knew what was best for you. And what was not best for you was that boy as he called him. He said that he came from the wrong side of the tracks and that he hated his tattoo of that stupid lady bug that he had on his arm. Every time he looked at that thing it made him sick.

I was shaken with fear. I didn’t know what to do next so I just sat there waiting for him to say something or to dismiss me like a school boy. I had the feeling that nobody was really good enough for you in his world but I would do.

He later told me more about that boy that he thought you were infatuated with. He never used the word love when he talked about him. He kept saying that he would never be good enough for his daughter and that you being 15 when you met him was reason enough for him breaking up that relationship before it started. He knew that boy was going to be trouble. I wasn’t sure what kind of trouble he met or trouble for whom. But, I got the feeling he was talking about himself as much as he was talking about you.

When I met you I thought you were just like your father described you to me. You were very pretty, ambitious, outgoing and didn’t take anything from anyone and you had the most steely blue eyes I had ever seen. I was amazed that you liked me too. For years I thought that you would see right through me and the lie I held secret all these years. I thought you would find out that me and your father manipulated  you into marrying me. That the love of your life was still out there probably just as confused as you were as to what happened, why he had to move in the middle of the school year and not tell you or anyone else.

But, I tried to give you a happy life. I know that when I got older I was a miserable old man. I wanted to tell you when I found out this miserable old man was dying. I kept that a secret too. I didn’t want you to fuss over me any more than you already did. I wanted to at least give you that. I feel so badly about taking the love of your life or the potential of love from you.

I know that you never got the chance to find out if he was the one for you. I know that it was wrong and I know that I should not have gone along with your father’s plans. But, I was a kid at the time. I wanted to practice law more than I wanted to breathe it seemed. He told me that if I didn’t go along with his plans for me and you to marry that he would make sure I never practiced law anywhere in the world. And you know he had the power to make that happen.

I am so sorry. I know that saying sorry is not enough. Reading the words isn't enough. I can imagine the pain in your heart right now and I am sorry that I am the one who caused it. Please forgive me. I hope that you will over time. Please know that I did

love and respect you and I thank you for all the years you stood by me as my wife and my partner in life.

I love and adore you more than words can ever say. Your Husband, Henry Gia put the letter back in the envelope and put it on the coffee table. She didn’t know what to think or even what to feel. She was numb. She sat there on the couch in her same spot that she had sat for many years. The same spot across from Henry while he read his books. She looked at Henry’s chair and the imprint of his head in the fabric and worn seat and for a brief moment she could have sworn she saw Henry sitting there reading his books like he always did. She shook her head at the ghostly image. “Henry, you old fool. If you only knew how much I loved you too and that I had figured out that secret a long time ago. Father did in fact ruin that potential relationship but he didn’t know that he gave me so much more. I was sure at 15 Cody was my soul but when I met you I was sure that you were my soul and the sabotage that my father did worked not against me but for me. Rest in Peace

Henry until we meet again.”


I stood in the rain and watched the water drops splash up from the ground through the arches of my feet. The light from the street lamp sparkled and refracted on liquid beads. I turned my face up to the weeping sky and felt nothing. I was the only being out on the street tonight. The wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube jack-o-lantern in my neighbor’s yard dodged and bobbed in the wind. The blowup ghost hissed and moaned. An umbrella, its bones turned inside out, tumbled down the avenue, skipping to the tune of spooky music blaring from static speakers. The children in the only decorated house on the block pressed their runny noses against the living room window, sadness painting their faces instead of costume makeup. I waved to them. The brats ignored me. Halloween in the time of covid.

No Trick or Treating.

The weather wasn’t helping the festivities. If it weren’t for the freezing rain, the brats would be outside all night, hooting and hollering at the Blue Moon while their mother sat on the stoop sipping wine. They usually kept me awake as their house was right across the street from my bedroom window. Being a crotchety old man, I grumbled about irresponsible parents and rowdy children with no business having fun while my ancient body ached. I’d yell at them to get the fuck off my lawn, but they never came anywhere near me or my stuff. No one had any respect for old people nowadays. Even worse, they had no time.

My children and grandchildren lived hundreds of miles away and rarely called. I hadn’t seen them in years. Once their mother left me ten years ago, they felt no genuine compunction to contact me. I had few earthly possessions to tempt their attention, and mutual affection evaporated around the time of puberty. Mostly, I was ignored. Just like now. I stood in the rain, staring at those damn kids staring at me, and they acted like they couldn’t even see me. I approached their fenced in yard. I wanted to pop all of their inflated decorations. Besides the orange tube guy and the trite white ghost, there was a black cat with demonic eyes, a dancing witch with neon pink hair and bright green skin, a hairy wart wiggling on her nose, and a skeleton that fell apart and reassembled to the tune of “Dem Bones.” Frankenstein’s monster had given up its Mortal coil. He lay shriveled on the ground like a spent water balloon. I went through the front gate. It didn’t squeak. Disappointing. I glided around various homemade tombstones, quiet as a corpse rising from its crypt. I have to admit they were kind of clever:

I TOLD YOU I WAS SICK BEN BETTER NOAH SCAPE - ALWAYS FELT TRAPPED PLEASE DON’T WAKE THE DEAD - THEY’RE GRUMPY HERE SHE LIES - DEE COMPOSING I even chuckled at a few of them, but I would never admit to that, especially after nearly stepping in dog poop. You’d think they would clean up a bit before putting out the ornamentations. It seems they had better things to do. In my day, we cleaned and straightened up for days before a holiday so we’d be worthy of a celebration. It felt like getting a trophy just because you showed up. I survived the canine waste obstacle course and hunkered down in the bushes under the window. I rose a little, my eyes and nose breaching the sill. I got a good view of childish chins lowered to immature chests in sorrow. You’d think someone had died. The floor behind them held an assortment of drug store costumes, plastic masks, and discarded candy wrappers. Mom lay on the couch, an arm thrown over her eyes, an empty glass on the floor under her dangling fingers. Their German Sheppard, Fang, rested in the chaos, his ears twitching, shifting like a satellite dish on the lookout for alien signals, and his eyebrows danced like Groucho Marx. The mutt jumped up and rushed to the window. He barked and lunged, scattering the children. Mom startled, sat up, and yelled at people and the animal.

I ducked down and ran for the street. The front door opened, and Fang shot into the yard, followed by the mother and her brood.

I dove into the hedges next to my house and sat on the ground to catch my breath.

I expected rapid breathing and a palpitating heart. I felt weirdly calm.

From my hidden perch, I watched the unwashed masses storm the road with weapons in the shape of brooms and shovels. One of the minions brandished a three-legged doll that was missing patches of blonde hair. The dog snarled as Mom held it by the collar. Her heels dug into the lawn’s dirt while his licked up tufts of soil and brown grass.

This was more excitement than an aging person needed. I always knew by sixty I will have had enough. The noise, the mess, the constant upkeep. Why bother? I felt justified and satisfied with my decision even though I had made it jokingly in my twenties. I had no desires left. I bequeathed curiosity to the neighborhood Tom. I watched all of the Andy Griffiths and Gunsmoke reruns. I couldn’t hang out at my local bar anymore. Thunder and lightning chased the little monsters across the street back into their den. The slam of the door snuffed out their shrieks. Mom must have pulled the plug since all of the blowup figures deflated, the lights went out, and the tin canned spirits exorcised their right to some rest. The night returned to the unnatural pandemic quiet.

I turned back to my home, reached the front stoop, and grabbed the door handle. It passed through my fingers. I pushed on the door. It didn’t move, but I ended up in my front room. There I sat in my recliner, slumped over, head lolling to the left, my favorite beer mug on the side table, my revolver on the floor under my lifeless fingers.


It’s not relevant. She swished her long ponytail back and forth, upsetting the boy’s cool demeanor. He had nothing but to follow the big headed one. “Hey stop right there”, She continued walking with her head upright and shoulders rolled back. He ran with his mind buzzing with questions and rational tactics.  She turned around composed and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “Yes?” “Look I thought about what you said yesterday and now I am ready to debate with you” “And?” Her look caught the boy off guard. This time he forced himself not to jerk away. “And… and let’s begin the debate. Who’s going first? I’ll give you the chance. Better you go!” he cursed himself slightly for stumbling in his words. “Huh, you have been wake till midnight. Judging from the facts you have probably asked help from someone. Someone like a close family member, female definitely. You have forgotten to apply deodorant in an attempt to catch me before I went to my house. And you wouldn’t definitely try to come to my place cause that will make you seem like you are my boyfriend who’s struggling to ask me on a date.” Her words flowed through the Boy with softness and fluency. She looked at him in her calm quite manner. Barely blinking, The boy’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know?” he asked his head spinning “Know what?” He gestured around with his hands, not pointing to anything in particular. “The fact that you didn’t apply deodorant?” She smirked “No I mean I mean… the latter part” words took so long to reach the boy’s throat. “Simple deduction” The boy was amazed at her graceful cunningness and calm collected gestures. But he was not going to be distracted again. Aunt Porsha’s advice looped itself into his consciousness. Act as if you know. Don’t show your cracks. “Well not so impressive. I could have done the same too” The boy mumbled “Ok let’s not get distracted shall we Bruce!?” It was again another ripple of shock that overtook the Boy. “Fine let’s begin.” He didn’t bother to ask her how she knew his name. He didn’t want to appear any more ignorant nor naïve. “Ok you said that girls have greater verbal ability than boys. And I disagree with it. And this is why”, all his memorized words paused at the core of his buccal cavity. He force them out, praying to God for eloquence. “It has been found that kids who grew up playing with electronic toys and building blocks grew up to possess higher abilities of spatial and mathematical skills according the many researchers conducted around the world on kids in all walks of life. So there is no bias in this. It’s not the males’ fault that they play with spatial enhancing building blocks, Neither is it the fault of girls that they grew up playing with Barbie dolls and useless cooking stuff. It’s the parent’s faults. They are wired to follow the stereotypes. She rolled her eyes, “ Eso no es relevante, Bruce!” “Sorry?” He blinked, not understanding, and hoping his words are not gulping down again through the long muscular tube. “I said it’s not relevant, we are talking about verbal ability not spatial or mathematical abilities between males and female. It is already proved that females score higher in verbal and nonverbal abilities. Those findings show that females have more advantage over males in their cognitive domains.” She sat on the nearby bench crossing her legs as if she ruled the world. He hated her egocentric behavior, “And what proofs do you have? Any evidence based researches?” This took her off her demeanor. “Proof?” “Eso no es relevante?” The boy asked coolly “Proofs are in the hands of a nerd not in an intellect’s!” The boy thought there was a twinge of nervousness in the Girl’s voice, “Ah is that so? Proofs are weapons in the hands of a master verbal communicator.” “Says who? You?” She laughed. “Scholars” he gritted his teeth. “Which one?” Plato? Socrates? Bruce the Great?” He rolled his eyes. “Eso no es relevante Bruce? “Fine. Leave it, where were we?” “Where you sucked actually Bruce!” “It’s so hard to talk with you” “I’ve been told” “No wonder” Bruce mumbled suddenly eyeing the nearby roses glittering in the dawning sunlight. He despised their life. Often times he wished to plant himself back into the earth to see if he’d grow into something better, perhaps a dandelion, or a fiery rose that stood poised. He really had no idea what he was doing nor what point he was trying to make, “Ok back to the topic” “Which one? Deodorant? Spanish? Scholars?” “Oh lord!” Bruce exclaimed scratching his head, “…Your irrational view on gender biases. So let me make it clear you say females possess more potential than males. Is that so?” “I never said such thing” “Then what on earth did you say?” Bruce asked his anger spurring up. “All I am trying to say is that female’s verbal abilities are greater than males. I think I already proved it right without those so called proofs.”  “Ha! How so?” He asked, confused “Cause I already distracted you from your points and if I told you now to begin your debate 98 percent of time you wouldn’t remember those memorized taught words from your female supporter.” Her words were like neat slaps against his face, “You have underestimated me” “Ha! Then show me what you can do Bruce ”.  “Fine, According to a research done in the University of Cambridge in 2017, they studied males and females from different backgrounds performing debates in large crowds of people from leaders to entrepreneurs, kids to adults, drop outs to graduates. What they found out was something that was fascinating and utterly marvelous. You would be surprised to know that both males and females performed equally with competence and fluency. Researches were stunned for they were too wired by so called stereotypes that it was hard for them to liberate from that mindset. It took them years to accept it even though the evidences were crystal clear. So you see both sexes perform with equal abilities. But due to environmental or mindsets passed onto them they grow up to believe those irrational sayings, even though the facts are sitting right in front of their faces. We must as intellects if you call yourself one, do our best to diminish those that limits people potentialities, so that those who are coming after us are not limited by any means to perform their unique exceptional abilities. So what can we do? We can educate people without trying to support their sayings with our biased mindsets, we can encourage more female kids to explore and invent. We can provide them opportunities and not deprive them of those. Following these will really pave a brighter future for all of us with rationality taken serious and myths busted to dust. Bruce spoke his heart, he didn’t even realize it . He poured his heart, dear reader. No memorized words! He waited for the Girl’s retorts, but none came. The Girl’s expression was unreadable, long strands of wavy hair fell down her glowing face, he had a sudden impulse to tuck them behind her ear. Bruce’s world blurred and burst into a thousand vibrant colors, as the girl leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to his lips softly,  And whispered, “Sé que Bruce, no es relevante” .


The Sunsets of My Life                                                                                Edy Stoughton I never feel more alive and vivid than when I am standing in front of a glorious sunset. It fills me up with wonder.  My breathing slows and my speech is stilled when I am engulfed in those glorious, sky-filling colors.  Glowing in my memory, sunsets have marked and defined the milestones of my life and ordered my times and seasons. They have been celestial companions on my journey. Growing up in the suburbs of a Midwestern city, sunsets weren’t part of my experience.  Ever-expanding housing developments and 8 lane expressways aren’t an impressive framework for a  colorful sky so days ended and nights came on with little fanfare and nothing to mark their passage.  My love affair with sunsets began when we rented a summer cottage on Northern Lake Michigan.  Gathering my sand-gritted, sunburned little children for bed, I was shocked when the sky lit up and I stood transfixed in the midst of gathering towels and sand shovels.  A panorama of deepest oranges blending to muted yellows and brilliant rose blazed over the lake.  We all stood unmoving, awestruck.  From that day as the children grew from toddlers to teens, sunset watching was our end-of-day ritual every summer vacation at that same cabin.  As the colors began to appear we would gather in awe, faces turned to the horizon, celebrating the end of the day.  It was communal worship as all down the beach people appeared, standing silently, wine glasses in hand until the last flash of the sun ‘s rim slipped below the lake.  Not a sound could be heard—even nature was hushed in that moment at the edge of night.  And then a collective sigh was heard marking the official end of the day, sharing gratitude for the gift of another day, hope for a good tomorrow and thanks for the beauty surrounding us.  The last sunset was the final good bye for another year and a time for tears as it marked the closing off of another blissful space of time out of the ordinary. Throughout the years sunsets have been my mainstay and never-failing source of joy. My sunset experiences trail markers of the changes in my life.  There was the year we visited my son away at college in California and he piled us in his jeep racing time to get to Sunset Cliffs in Mission Beach to watch the sun descend into the Pacific Ocean.  Knowing my long-term love affair with sunsets, he was determined that I experience that famous vantage point regardless of traffic and as we stood on the cliff with the breeze in our faces calming us my son turned to me saying “This is for you Mom.” The years passed and we settled on the shores of Lake Michigan to live our dream.  It was no longer a vacation place, but home. Grandchildren took the place of children in the sun-drenched days of summer and the tradition continues.  Standing at our deck railing making a wish on the sun’s last rays is a nightly ritual.  Each child has his or her traditional way of ending the day, unique to them.  On evenings when we are preoccupied with dinner or conversation, a grandchild's voice can be heard crying, "Hurry, it's almost time...we're going to miss it!" And the thunder of feet and slamming of screen doors herald that the magic moment has arrived. Standing with my arms wrapped around the little ones and sitting peacefully in an Adirondack chair talking quietly, or just sitting in unspoken companionship, in the evening glow beside my beautiful teen aged granddaughter are all priceless moments that I will stay with me forever. The tradition goes on even when we are not together, a ritual of memory and nostalgia that links us through time and space. Recently I received a photo in my email account of two of my granddaughters arm in arm standing in front of a window. My daughter explained that they were in a restaurant in Park City, Utah on a ski vacation and as the sun started to set, the girls rushed to the window to make a wish on the sunset in honor of all the wishes we had shared. I worry about our inability to find our rightful place in the cosmos and our lack of stewardship and care for the natural world.  I worry about the world we are leaving our children and grandchildren.  And yet, it is my hope that a sunset is the way of saying the world will go on. These days I mostly stand alone in front of the setting sun. I can enjoy the completely silent sunsets of winter as well as those of the summer skies. When the ice-covered lake is edged by towering giant pines etched against the winter sky, the colors are deeper, richer and more austere in deep violet and royal blue. I am alone and yet I am not lonely. It is just me and the lake and the sky communing in quiet intimacy. In some ways it is better than ever. I have more to be grateful for and think about. I have never gotten over that first shock and awe I felt at that first view of the sky’s glory.  It is strangely comforting to know that I am only a small part of the vast illimitable universe and yet the eternal spark within me is intimately and infinitely connected to all that vastness—part of the eternally flowing river of time. So much is changing in my life as I enter a new stage and yet the evening sky is constant and unchanging, a lodestar in my life and as the sky lights up, I feel cradled in the deep heart of eternity. Standing at the edge of the vast Lake Michigan with lighthouses blinking in the distance I know the truth of words I read recently that said our souls are the lighthouse from which we view the vast celestial ocean. The longer I live the more beautiful life becomes.  I never want it to end. And yet when I feel frightened about what is to come at the end of my life and nostalgic about the winding down of my years on this earth, I am comforted by knowing that I will find out what the view is like on the other side of that beautiful sunset and I will be part of the glory.


"It said 'Anti-murder juice' on the chalkboard," I say lightly as I place the cardboard carrier on the seat between us. "Although you probably wanted to kill me back there." I nod another apology at the dark stain on his shirt. "Well, it was pretty hot stuff, and I can't deny it hurt a bit, but I think I'll live." He laughs. He sounds relaxed, confident. Ever the gracious gentleman. I steal a look at the man beside me. Time has been kind to Peter. Two and a half decades have done nothing to detract from his breathtaking good looks. The teenage heart-throb has become the kind of man who's listed among the "Top 10 Sexiest Something or Other" in magazines. But life was always good to Peter. "I can't believe it's really you," I say, aware that I'm staring, that I sound like an idiot, like a gushing fan. He turns those grey eyes towards me and a wave of heat engulfs my chest. "Well, I would have known you anywhere. You haven't changed a bit." He winks. Smiles. I duck my head and fumble with sugar packets. My heart is hammering so loud I'm sure he can hear it. He's lying, of course. The last 25 years have left behind nothing of the sweet and rather stupid 17-year-old I used to be, apart from my long black hair. And even that is streaked with grey. I think it's safe to say my own mother wouldn't recognize me now. "Shit, I put sugar in your coffee. I forgot to ask if you still take it." "Haha, I'm supposed to use sweetener these days." He pats his stomach, which shows no sign of middle-age spread. "But a little sugar probably won't kill me." He takes his cup and stirs it with a little wooden stick. I stir my coffee, too.

"To lucky accidents," he says, turning towards me. We clink paper cups, softly so we don't spill. I watch as he drinks. A couple of deep, greedy gulps. Then he puts down the empty cup, stretches his arms over the back of the bench, and sighs. His left hand is almost touching my shoulder, a glint of gold in the sunlight. I look out over the sea as I sip my coffee, slowly.

"It's been so long," I say at last. "There's so much I wanted to say to you, Peter." He doesn't answer. So I carry on. "You left so suddenly, I never got the chance. And you never answered your phone or returned my calls. At first I thought it was because I saw the two of you – you know, that night. That you were afraid I'd go psycho on you or something. But later my mother told me that she called your mother about five minutes after she found out. I suppose she told you to stay the hell away from me. And I suppose you didn't mind so much. I mean, after all, I was just another high-school dropout, and you were a Rhodes Scholar, drinking Champagne on the banks of the Thames. Easier that way, obviously. But it was so hard, Peter. You can't have forgotten how religious my mother was. And, also, she blamed what happened on the fact that I didn't have a dad around growing up. So she absolutely refused to let me keep it. And what was I supposed to do? I had no money. Nowhere to go. Nothing. But when they took her away, even though they did it straight away, I felt something crack inside me, here, in my chest. And the pain came in through the crack. I've tried everything, absolutely everything, to push the pain back out again. I guess you could say it's been my one real ambition in life. At first alcohol was my best friend, but then it was mainly drugs. More expensive, but so much more effective. For a while, anyway. My friends used to call me The Queen of Codeine. But I've moved on. I'm way past that. And then I found you again, Peter. To be honest, it would have been hard to miss you. You're really famous these days. I've seen the pictures of you and her in the tabloids, and of the two of them too, and your skiing holidays and your yacht, and your beach house, and all of it.

So, it wasn't an accident today at all, really. I was waiting for you. I've been planning this for weeks. I thought maybe, if it seemed like a coincidence, if it was a surprise, you'd let me talk to you. Let me have just a few minutes with you." The waves sigh onto the rocks below us. I steal another look at him. His head is tipped back and his eyes are unfocused, gazing off at the distant horizon as if lost in thought. I imagine what we must look like to strangers passing by: Two figures on a lonely bench, silhouetted against shimmering silver ripples. We sit there in silence a while longer. Neither of us moves. Bit by bit, like the tide ebbing out, the pain starts to leave me. For the first time I can remember, I feel like I can breathe again.

I stack the two cups together and carefully pick up the paper packets and stirrer sticks. I carry them a long way before I find a bin to throw them into. ****** Story ends. I’m afraid I can’t seem to add another 109 words. I believe in brevity - even when I’m being paid by the word. I don’t oretend to be Hemingway, but I do often repeat Strunk’s immortal words: ‘A sentence contains no unnecessary words, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences. So it does seem rather odd to me that you would set a lower limit on the word count required for your short story competition . To disqualify a story for omitting unnecessary words seems a little arbitrary and even counterproductive, assuming you are in favor of promoting quality of writing. rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb cheers


   “No! You have to leave! The commotion you’ve caused is unacceptable!”

   We snicker at her, keeping up the act. Right now, we need the librarian to believe we are just some delinquent teens here to cause trouble. I whisper something into Mae’s ear, nonsense words really, but enough to keep the librarian’s attention.    “Stop that!” She demands, her voice raised higher than what would be expected of her.    “You’re being rather loud.” My sister responds in the most demeaning voice she can muster. “It’s making it incredibly hard to focus, don’t you know that libraries are supposed to be quiet?”    “Besides,” I add, “I was only whispering. That is the polite thing to do in this setting.”    “Just moments ago you two were yelling about and knocking over books!” She says, even louder now. “I would say you are hardly in the place to preach politeness to me.”    Her words give me an idea. I turn and walk towards the nearest bookshelf, before spinning dramatically to lock eyes with the woman. I lift my hand, and in one quick motion I swat a collection of books to the ground. A small part of me feels some semblance of guilt, but a stronger part of me is having too much fun to care.    “That’s it!” She begins to walk towards me and I realize it’s time to run.    I grab Mae’s hand and we sprint up the first set of stairs, the librarian following soon after.    “Parker…” Mae gasps out between panting. “Do… do you think we took it too far?”    I shrug. “No clue, Peter just told me that we need to distract her. He never clarified how big the distraction has to be.”    “Go big or go home?”

   “Go big or go home.”    I look over my shoulder and realize the librarian has nearly reached us.    “Okay, let’s go.” I whisper.    We run to the second set of stairs and rush up it, a little slower this time. We have to stay close enough that she doesn’t give up, otherwise there’d be no point to this.

   “How many floors does this library have exactly?” Mae questions as we reach the top of the second staircase.    We pause for a moment and I pull out my phone to check.

   “According to the official website, 5 floors.”    “I’m assuming that wouldn’t include…?”    “Definitely not including that. People aren’t supposed to know about that.”    She nods, and I feel a hand wrap around my wrist.    “Got you.” The voice of the librarian sounds almost silly, and the threatening tone she has attempted to take on does not suit her.    “With that feeble grip?” I laugh, pulling my hand away with less ease than I show. “Hardly.”    I run, not up another flight of stairs but to the opposite end of the room. Mae splits off from me to go to the third floor. I can see the librarian grumbling inaudibly, and decide to taunt her.    “Which of us are you gonna go after now, huh? There’s only one of you. You can’t catch us both.”    Peter, a childhood friend of ours, let me know there would only be one librarian today. He created a false event, or something of the sort, and invited the whole library staff save for one. The one with the keys. The library needs to be open for this to work. He never told us what he was after, never explained why we’re doing this, but he’s always had a good reason in the past for this sort of thing, so I must trust him now.

   The librarian chooses to go after me, probably because I’m closer. That’s her first mistake, Mae would’ve caused way less chaos. I climb on a nearby chair to jump up to the top of one of the bookshelves, knocking over some of the decorations lining the top. Once I’m up, I scoot to the center of the bookshelf, pulling my legs up in criss-cross applesauce.    She glares at me from below. “Get down from there!”    “What are you gonna do?” I taunt. “I mean sure, you could pull me down, but the whole bookshelf might just come falling down with me, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”    She scowls at me, before running away and up the stairs, presumably to find Mae.    My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I hop down gracefully before checking it.

   “I got it, meet me back at my place.” Reads a text sent from Peter in the group chat.    “Understood, on my way.” I respond.    A few seconds later I see a response from Mae. “Cool.” It says. “I might be a bit late, gotta shake this crazy librarian lady.”    I laugh, and decide to take the elevator this time. No need using the stairs considering I’m not trying to be a distraction anymore. Once in the elevator, I push the button for level 1. No basement. What a simple lie, but I suppose it works for the most part.    It doesn’t take long to be out the door and on my way to Peter’s house, it’s only a mile away, so I opt to jog it. No need to take a bus for such a short way, though I start to notice the heat by about halfway there, and am drenched in sweat when I walk through the door.

   “Mae managed to make it here before you.” Peter jokes.    “And even after you left me to fend for myself with that horrible woman.” Mae adds with a smile.    “Oh please.” I respond. “That’s only because she bikes everywhere. Now what was all this for? You ought to tell us after the trouble you put us through.”    “Well as you know I had to steal a file from the secret basement of the library.”    “Yes, but I’m asking for what we don’t already know.”    “Patience, Parker, I’m getting there. The files in that basement are all regarding assassins, and their kills. I had to be sure before I said anything, otherwise I’m not sure if you’d have been able to properly do your part in the operation.”    “What do you mean?”    He hands me the file, and Mae peers over my shoulder as I open it.    It reads “Kaeson Johnson, Assassin.”

He found my mother’s file.


Lyla Magda and I lay sprawled out on Lyla's turquoise sectional in her spacious entertainment room. There were various modes of entertainment to choose from. A 50-inch flatscreen was mounted on the wall; programmed with any channel or movie you wanted to watch. There was fuse ball, a pool table, a VR station, a scrabble table (my personal favorite), and a recording studio where you could make a video to the song you were singing off karaoke. Lyla was checking her food delivery apps to see who was delivering with a discount. Lyla could eat and was always hungry. High metabolisms ran in her family. So she could shovel it in and not gain one pound. No matter what or how much she ate she stayed a skinny beanpole. Magda was sending audio clips to open voice over positions around the city. Her voice was lovely. People enjoyed talking with and listening to her no matter what the topic was. Magda wanted to host her own holistic radio talk show one day. Me...I was just lying on the sofa agonizing over my Aunt Astra's upcoming visit. Don't get me wrong. I loved my aunt; in fact she was my favorite aunt. She was smart, sophisticated, a stylish dresser, worked out and kept fit, did volunteer charity work, and owned her own advertising agency. So why am I agonizing you ask.....because although my aunt had all those great things going for her; she had two serious flaws. She was honest. Too honest. No I mean like brutally honest and she always repeated her self as if to underline what she said. No one was spared. She didn't discriminate. It didn't matter who you were. My Aunt did not believe in telling even a little white lie....ever. My aunt's attitude was tell and accept the truth and get on with life.

After every declared truth she would say...."If I'm lying I'm flying and I ain't got no wings shooot if I'm lying I'm flying and I ain't got no wings. Ohkay?" If someone pointed out how her words may have a negative effect.....she always replied..."band-aids are for babies!...shooot....band-aids are for babies! Ohkay?" Take my 5th grade science fair for instance. I was excited and nervous. All my family came to support me. I did my my project on wind energy. I made a wind turbine out of straws, popsicle sticks, and cardboard. The girl to my right did hers on vegetable batteries. The boy to my left did his on the solar system.

It looked like no one helped the boy on my left with his project and he just winged it so he would not get a zero for failure to participate. His planets were balled up socks of various colors and sizes. The sock planets hung on strings that were knotted on several coat hangers tied together with clipped zip-ties to make a mobile.

As for the girl to my right her actual project wasn't bad. It was her backboard that was terrible. It was handwritten with several scratch-outs and the handwriting was crowded and uneven. I guess she ran out of time to get information printed out to use for her blackboard. As people were milling around checking out each project praising, giving hi-fives, fist bumps, and good jobs; my Aunt Astra was videoing. She paused tape and said loudly, "I'm going to have to crop out these two crappy projects on either side of Torianne before I send this out to the family chat group." Even at 10 I was mortified. I wished a giant wormhole would have opened up and swallowed me right there on the spot. There were huffs and angry sucking of teeth along with widened eyes and incredulous raised eyebrows that said....OMG did she just say that?!?! My dad ever the diplomat tried to smooth things over. Aunt Astra was my dads baby sister. "Astra honey I'm sure these young people did their best," said my dad. To which my aunt replied, "If this is their best, she gestured with her hand, then I'd hate to see their worst." The girl started crying. Her mom came to her side to console her and shot my aunt a dirty look. The boy's face flushed red and his fists were balled up at his side. My mom shook her head and bit her bottom lip. "Jeez Astra REALLY?" she said. Aunt Astra said, "What?! If I'm lying I'm flying and I ain't got no wings...shooot....If I'm lying I'm flying and I ain't got no wings. Ohkay?" The boy's father said, "Wow lady don't you see that these are 10 yr old kids?" Aunt Astra shrugged and flung her hair over her right shoulder and said, "Mr. band-aids are for babies!...shooot...band-aids are for babies! Ohkay?" Then there was the time I was trying out for my high school varsity softball team. I liked sports and I was pretty good at them. My gym teacher personally recommended me to the coach as a star player. I was pumped. Many other girls were nervous and worried if they would make the team.

My aunt was talking to her friend Pauline on the phone. "If they make it great; if they don't at least they know the truth....that they don't have any skills for softball. Find something else to do. No need to sulk or cry about it. Band-aids are for babies!...shooot...band-aids are for babies! Ohkay?" she remarked into the phone. I blew air into my cheeks, closed my eyes, and shook my head. After try-outs coach read off the names of who made starting roster. I made the team and was happy. Rolanda Spivey was happy too. She'd made the team. Her friends cheered for her and grabbed her in a 'selfie' group pose. Aunt Astra, still talking on the phone with Pauline, says, "What in the heck was the coach thinking. That girl looks like she could play defensive end on the guys varsity football team. I mean unless she's just going to be the catcher." Rolanda was a BIG girl. She was heavy-set and stood 5'11 in her stocking feet. Still. I closed my eyes willing myself to break up into tiny particles and teleport to Starship Enterprise.

"Aunt Astra, I croaked. "Please I have to practice and play with these girls. Don't make enemies for me." "She chucked my chin and said, "Oh baby girl don't worry. Maybe being on the team will do her some good after all. Get her moving; she'll drop some much needed pounds. Provided she leaves those disgusting fast food joints alone. If she does she'll look good and feel good. You mark my words. If I'm lying I'm flying and I ain't got no wings...shooot....If I'm lying I'm flying and I ain't got no wings. Ohkay?" Needless to say Rolanda and her crew hated my guts for the rest of high school right up until we were sophmores in college where she finally let me explain about my aunt and apologize. On many more occasions my aunt kept it real; while the rest of us had to try and smooth over, clean up, appease, hurt feelings and embarrasments. The all time worst situation involved Dexter Campbell. A guy I developed a crush on in college. We both attended the same local community college. I sat across from Dexter in sociology class. He had a handsome face, wavy black hair, and green eyes. He was popular, kind, and friendly.  For an up coming study project; Dexter and I were assigned to work together.

Professor Elbee wrote a long list of options to choose from for our project. We decided to tackle domestic violence and it's consequences in todays society. A weighty topic; Dexter and I spent a lot of time together over the next 4 weeks getting our project ready . Outside of class we would meet at the library, the park, the local coffee shop, and a popular diner downtown.

Even after the assignment was completed and submitted we still hung out sometimes.

Finally I got up the nerve to invite him, to my family BBQ. I can't tell you the relief I felt when Aunt Astra said she didn't think she would make it because she was tied up trying to work out some kinks in a contract for a cat food comercial in Arizona. On the day of the BBQ the weather was nice: clear blue sky with plenty of sunshine without being hot. Magda and Lyla of course were there along with a few other girls I had invited. Dexter came and brought his two roommates. My Uncle Herb the grillmaster was serving up delicious varieties of meats on one grill and non-meat options on another grill. The little kids were having a great time on the slip and slide. Other family members and friends sat in groups of two or more...chatting, playing cards, hang-man, and arguing over who was trying to cheat while playing a board game. Dexter and his roommates decided to toss a frisbee they had brought along. Magda hit me on the shoulder; then pointed to my patio door. "Hey look it's your Aunt Astra." I immediately got a migrane. "Please God do not let her embarrass me today in front of Dexter," I pleaded. Apparently Aunt Astra was able to wrap things up earlier than expected and take a direct flight and make it on time to the family BBQ after all. My aunt was making her rounds greeting family and friends. At the exact time she made it to me and my friends; Dexter threw the frisbee and clipped my Aunt Astra on the side of her head. Dexter came running over to us all apologetic; saying it was an accident was she hurt; could he get her a glass of water? My aunt looked at Dexter and asked him his name. "Hi I'm Dexter sorry again." he said. My aunt smiled and said, "My,my,my, so THIS is the sociology hunk my neice is madly in love with. No wonder you have a crush on him. He's cute, smart, sporty, and a gentleman. What more can you ask for. Torianne you better not let this catch get away." Dexter raised his left eyebrow as a slow grin spread across his face.

I only know that because Magda told me later. I was to busy trying not to pass out. I was tingly and hot; my face red as cranberries. I felt like the wind was knocked out of me making it hard for me to breathe. "OMG Aunt Astra!" I finally gurgled out. "What?! If I'm lying I'm flying and I ain't got no wings....shooot....If I'm lying I'm flying and I ain't got no wings. Ohkay?" Mom came over and gave me a side hug while rubbing my back. "Astra! Jeez! Can you stop embarrasing people?" she said. My Aunt came over to me and hugged me and then cupped my face in her hands and said, "Suck it up buttercup. He's a keeper. Remember band-aids are for babies!....shooot....band-aids are for babies! Ohkay?"


Betty was the youngest of three children. Her sister Lorraine died as a youngster following a severe illness and her newlywed brother Jerome was killed subsequent to a head injury after having been thrown from a horse. Not only that, but Betty’s mother and father were only children. Without Betty having any aunts, uncles, or siblings, and now with her having been involuntarily sterilized, the Belcher family bloodline would come to a despondent end, or would it? Mother found herself infertile due to a teenage malady that impacted her ovarian complex. Such a misfortune warrants a brief explanation. Young Betty had been misdiagnosed with appendicitis and agreed to surgery for removal of the supposed inflamed small hollow organ. However, a surgical incision under anesthesia revealed the true nature of the problem; the surgeon decided to forthwith completely withdraw the suspect infected ovaries. Keep in mind, this “butchery” occurred without any previous consultation with the patient. Naturally, when the medical doctor in charge met with Betty to coldly inform her that she would never bear children, she was distraught. Nonetheless, fiancé George Adams married Betty in spite of her medical history. Now let us introduce the main character in this story. The daughter in question here was the second addition to the wealthy Adams Family in 1957. The proverbial stork in this case was the Children’s Home Society adoption agency. Lorraine was named after the deceased aunt on mother’s side of the family. Previously in 1955, and after ten years of matrimony, the childless couple had already arranged the adoption of an infant boy whom they named George, after father. The happy pair (George and Betty) were pleased to have begun their dream of raising a pair of beautiful children. Never had there been a discussion of needing or wanting to adopt a third. Akin to an unplanned pregnancy, this is what occurred next. In September of 1958, it was time to celebrate toddler Georgie’s third birthday party. First, let’s take a moment to “rename” the little boy. Understand that Dad had begun to call his son “Dibbons” after a business associate in Great Britain with the same name. Eventually, the nickname was revamped to the simpler form of “Dib” and it stuck. Now back to the story. While the majority of family and friends participated in the celebration of the birthday party, the godfather of the birthday boy, Dr. Garrett, was absent. He had been called to the hospital to deliver a baby. The unwed mother planned on putting the newborn up for adoption. Well, just three short days later, a boy they would name James, became another member of the Adam’s Family! George and Betty had never planned such a move, but the story Dr. Garrett shared with them tugged at their heartstrings. This led them to reach out to make a sacrifice for the sake of the unwanted child. Where beforehand the couple had purposely adopted two children with matching green eyes, James was a brown-eyed boy. As the children matured, naturally their unique personalities came to the forefront. Of course, the two boys having shared the same birthdate, would celebrate the occasion together on the same day every year. Dib revealed an occasional mean streak at home, but was better known for having been an outstanding student. Dad claimed that James would “rather climb a tree and tell a lie, than stand on the ground and tell the truth”. Based on the substance of her fake “crocodile” tears, it was common knowledge that the family characterized our subject Lorraine as a phony. While still in grade school, Mom portrayed her as “boy crazy”, which would foretell things to come. Dad, whose ancestors had once held an interest in cattle ranches in the State of Nevada, had always wanted to be a cowboy. With an inheritance windfall in 1969, he purchased a cattle ranch where the Adam’s family moved the following year. Raymond, the caretaker of the ranch, had been living in a two-bedroom mobile home located just yards away from the family residence. When Ray and family relocated, Lorraine and James (just teenagers) asked permission to move into the vacant mobile home. After some whining, badgering, and pestering (and against his own good judgment) Dad agreed to the proposal. After all, with just a holler, the two kids could be called back home for dinner. If that did not work, they could always be called on the other phone line that Ray had left behind. Now that Dib would no longer need to share his bedroom with James, he had little to do with the his younger siblings living in the space next door. With all the new found freedom for two of the least mature members of the family, what do you suppose could possibly go wrong? Lori (Lorraine), who by this time had established a reputation for being a “sneak”, found herself slipping out at night. Jonathan, her boyfriend, would pick her up some distance away so Mom and Dad were never the wiser to her shenanigans. As a co-conspirator, younger James was sworn to secrecy by way of some kind of blackmail, gifts, or threats on Lori’s part that were never unearthed by the adults next door. Previous to their move from the city, all of the children had attended nearby Catholic schools. This first school year at the ranch, the kids needed to commute about half an hour to the nearest parochial academy. Later, in part to avoid the long daily drive, they began to attend the local public high school. Dib graduated in good standing. On the other hand, James was once busted for stealing audio-visual equipment from a locker. Of course, after Lori stopped seeing Jon (Jonathan) on the sly, at least a couple of other guys would take his place. One day an intimate buddy of Jon’s shared a rumor with Dib that his sister (now fifteen years old) was “expecting”. Dib brushed off the outrageous gossip as a boldfaced lie and thought nothing more of the matter. Oddly about the same time, although the weather had not yet begun to chill, Lori was observed constantly wearing her heavy jacket indoors. Then one evening, Dib overheard a discussion brewing in the other room. Lori was crying and both parents were upset. All the rumors were true after all, Lori was pregnant and an adoption for the coming child had already been secretly arranged. The father was called out to be a classmate from an affluent family. However, other reports spread that the guilty party was someone from “the other side of the tracks”. Purposefully, the adoption put an end to the scandal. With that behind her, after Lori graduated from high school she attended a business school financed by father and lived in the campus dormitory. Dib completed a community college two-year degree program and became a peace officer. James enlisted in the Navy as a submariner. After Lori completed her course of study, she never again returned to live at home. While living in her own apartment, she worked in retail sales and eventually was promoted to manager of a music store. Lori began to date the manager of another affiliate music store in the neighborhood. Michael was quite the gentleman and one who left a good impression on everyone. The couple married during a summertime church ceremony where Dib gave the introductory welcoming remarks. After an expensive country club reception financed by father, Michael and Lori honeymooned for a couple of weeks on a Caribbean cruise. On their return, and very unexpectedly, Michael separated from Lori for a short period. When it was revealed that Lori had conceived a child (girl) on the honeymoon, Michael dutifully returned to her side. Four years later, a second girl was born into the family. Forever evident during family gatherings, and in the back of his mind, Dib wondered why he did not behold more frequent public displays of affection between his sister and brother-in-law. On the other hand, Dib did notice it was awful nice of Michael to help do the dishes while Lori often sat down in the other room to watch television. Well, Lori did have the reputation of being lazy and messy. Dib still remembers having to clean all the trash out of her car the one time he asked to borrow her Chevrolet Camaro for a Friday night date. Mother Betty and father George were lifetime smokers who supposedly quit at the age of 50. However, Betty only pretended to quit. Once she fell asleep while smoking in front of the television and the cushion of the chair she was sitting on caught fire! Later in life, Betty began to have some strange dental problems. For example, one day and for no apparent reason, a tooth fell out. She was very afraid of consulting with medical professionals, preferring for some reason to stick her head in the sand like is said of the proverbial ostrich. With encouragement from a dear family friend, she eventually made an appointment with a dentist. It was too late; even after gruesome treatments and surgeries, she succumbed to mouth cancer in 1988. Returning to the subject of Lorraine again: about the 18 year mark of the marriage, Michael decided he had completed his obligations and departed, never turning back this time. After the divorce, Dib called Michael to thank him for always being kind, considerate, and helpful. A strange thing took place afterward. Namely, Dib’s father (George) specifically referring to the phone call, began to insist that he never speak to Michael again. Being the fact that during this last telephone conversation with Michael, Dib was more than 500 miles away from home, how did Dad even know a phone call had taken place? Something sneaky must be going on here! Since Lori did everything possible to turn her girls against Michael during and after the divorce, she evidently had also turned father against her ex-husband. Dib could only wonder who Lori had employed as her personal spies, her daughters perhaps? For sure someone was surreptitiously keeping a close eye on Dib. Before the aforementioned call came to a close, Michael divulged something that Dib would never, ever have imagined. Michael confessed that previous to the day he exchanged vows with Lori, he was positive he was making a grave mistake! However, with the expensive celebration already planned (country club venue, live music, catered bar/dinner) Michael could not bring himself to back out of the marriage. That disclosure would explain everything Dib witnessed for years. Michael must have forged on with the marriage wholly for the sake of his two children. Now Dib suspected Lori may even have “trapped” Michael on purpose by making sure her honeymoon resulted in the conception of a first child! Or more accurately in her case, a second child. A short time before his demise, father George sold some property for several millions of dollars. As the old man’s health deteriorated, faithful son Dib would drive 400 miles one-way on weekends to visit father to help administer his medication and perform chores around the house and ranch. One evening while Dib and his spouse were visiting Dad, Lori arrived from her own out of town residence and began a private conversation with father in his bedroom. The following morning, Dad was very upset about something and ordered Dib and his wife to leave and never come back! Up until that day, Dib and father had always been “pals”. The only explanation for this extreme and uncalled for change of heart must have been something instigated by Lori herself the night before. In order not to upset father any further, Dib and his wife followed the request to leave. After that day, Lori began to take over all of father’s affairs: intercepting his phone calls, redrafting his health care directive, accompanying him to conferences with his attorney, and driving him to every one of his doctor’s appointments. Rumors began to unfold that the filing of a restraining order was being considered to legally prevent Dib from seeing his father again in the future! After Lori had sequestered father for about a month, Dib decided to stop by unexpected and uninvited to visit Dad. Again, a four hundred mile drive, but he lovingly made the effort. When he walked in the front door, Dib was aghast to find father flat on his back in a hospital bed. His stomach was extended and swollen like Dib had never seen anyone else before. The room smelled like death. Obviously, father had not bathed or been provided proper hygiene for quite some time. Dib was in shock when he understood this surely was going to be the last time he ever saw his father alive. Lori feigned a welcome and patronized Dib by stating that father was pleased to see him. A widower now of 18 years, father died the following day due to an untreated bowel obstruction. According to Lori, corrective action was not taken because the condition was considered inoperable. Because of Lori keeping her dastardly doings with father secret, no member’s of Dib’s side of the family had an opportunity to bid farewell to father, including Dad’s lady friend of almost twenty years (who considered herself his significant other). For the funeral, Dib stayed at a local motel, since Lori had taken over the Adam’s family home when Dib was asked to leave the month before. Two weeks later, Dib received a copy of father’s updated last will and testament. Lori received all of father’s personal property and millions of dollars in cash, except for one million dollars left to a weirdo ranch hand named Tom whom Lori had recently hired to help her and father with chores. Dib, his wife and step-daughter, brother James, and father’s significant other had all been disinherited during Lori’s recent “kidnapping” of father. Neither was even a penny bestowed on any other family member, friend of the family, church, or charity. Dib hired an attorney to sue Lori in Superior Court for fraud and elder abuse. She employed father’s attorney for herself. If you can believe it, the female judge selected in the case just happened to have been previously employed during her youth as a babysitter for father’s attorney (now Lori’s attorney). Dib was made the fool during the course of the trial (kangaroo court) and lost on every charge and motion. We still have not answered the questions: Why did father suddenly turn against his adopted first son George (Dib) just a month before his demise? And why and how did father leave all his earthly possessions to adopted daughter Lorraine and her friend? Well, father’s most terrifying fear would have been to find himself dumped off at a nursing home. Knowing this, Dib would never have considered that course of action under any circumstances. Being so far from reality, neither had the subject ever been approached or discussed between father and son. But not until after the trail decision was finalized in Lori’s favor would the truth be revealed as follows: Not mentioned beforehand, but brother Jim (James) had gotten himself into deep trouble and had been incarcerated for several years already at this point. During a prison visit, Dib’s brother revealed what would have to be the biggest lie ever told in the history of the world. Lori had told her incarcerated sibling that Dib intended on putting their father in a nursing home! Unmistakably, Lori had convinced both her brother and father (during his failing and weakened state of health) that Dib was an imminent threat to Dad’s well being and freedom. Pushing the idea that only she could protect him, Dad believed he had no other option than to surrender his life to his conniving daughter. That would explain the dramatic switch of father’s love and affection for his son to his uncharacteristic state of paranoia. In other words, Dib was eliminated from father’s life and estate plan after Lori convinced him that her older brother was the enemy. Another dishonest practice on Lorraine’s “rap sheet” is what one may consider outright embezzlement. You see, father lent Lori and Michael all the money they needed to purchase a new home for cash. One stipulation mentioned in this interest free loan agreement was that, at such time the house were sold, father would be re-paid the loan amount in full. After settling in to their new place, and without any funds of their own, the couple purchased a second home by placing a mortgage on the house father helped them to purchase for cash. In order to accomplish this, Lori had to trick father into signing a document that stated he had either forgiven the loan or the loan had already been repaid. The poor man must have failed to examine thoroughly what the document he signed actually entailed. So Lori and Michael moved into the second home and rented their first home, now both with monthly mortgage payments due. After having overextended themselves with this imprudent scheme, they secretly declared bankruptcy and lost the first house father had purchased for them. Afterwards, whenever father mentioned that home in conversation, the two continued the ruse by claiming it was rented and provided for them an extra income. Father went to his grave without ever finding out about their crime. If father had known about this felony, would he have favored his daughter so generously in the end? Now we must come to recognize the dire consequences of leading a life of deceit and manipulation. Well, in the case of sweet Lorraine, we find none at all! Looking back on it, feigning sadness or remorse by crying crocodile tears, as performed by the juvenile version of Lorraine, may very well have been early signs and symptoms of a sociopathic personality. What do you think?