Rejected Offers

I offered myself to her if she needed someone to talk to, a friendly ear, a warm shoulder. She refused.

I offered myself to her as an emergency contact, a port if she was stuck in a storm. She refused.

I offered my resources to her, if she needed a kickstart to get her started, money, housing, whatever. She refused.

Every offer I made was rebuked, every invitation turned down. She wouldn't live her life owing me more than required.

But of course, having a father like me to fall back on helped her take the risks she needed to.

The Good Superhero

Not even the most ardent supporter of prisoner's rights would have tried to stop her had Glory just let The Unnaturalist go. All that was stopping the supervillian from falling into the collapsing hole in the universe was Glory's grip. She'd come within a few seconds of destroying everything, and she would try again, and again, she was too far lost. For the good of everyone, Glory should just let her go.

But then she couldn't call herself good, so she began to pull her up.

Glory was annoyed she didn't do anything to cause her own death during it.

His Final Arrow

The arrow was the last one in his quiver. He'd left it alone for a few weeks, not finding a trader or deserted campsite to barter or salvage one. So he made do with his knives.

But then he came to a clearing, and the most beautiful deer he'd ever seen stood there. The price he would get for the pelt was worth it. So he took the arrow, aimed, fired.

It went wide, and vanished into the bushes. And while he lost the deer, having to kill an angry bear with just knives was a good story to tell.

Working Parts In Film

The mechanic was wiping his hands on an oily rag as I approached, which was high on the list of things they did in the movies.

He tried to double talk me, since as a woman I couldn't possibly know about cars. Yet another thing mechanics did in movies.

I calmly suggested what I thought was wrong, which he scoffed at (another movie thing) then when he tried to prove me wrong by starting up the car oil shot out and landed all over me.

Not a movie thing. But the rag actually worked well, so call it a draw.

Sacrifice Self

The demon appeared inside the drawn circle.

"So puny mortal-"

"Fix her."

The demon stopped, and looked down at the small child wrapped in rags at the man's feet.

"Ah, your daughter is sick? A common-"

"She's not my daughter."

The demon tilted his head, his next question dripping with distaste.

"Wife?"

"No, she's just a child who came to me for help."

"You're selling your soul for a life you barely know?"

"If you can help someone, you should."

The angel dropped the demon disguise, annoyed that for the first time in 2000 years someone actually earned a miracle.

From Above

It can be hard when all you're allowed to do is observe, when you see the same mistakes over and over again.

There's just something inbuilt in most races, no matter how they develop, no matter which place in the food chain they start from, once they harness enough power, once they can really cause destruction on a large scale, they do it.

But we're not allowed to interfere. Not allowed to try and help. And I know that's for the best, we all know what happened when someone tried to help last time.

Those dinosaurs had so much promise...

An Obvious Gambit

The Relic Finder managed to make a small opening and drop down into the chamber. She was uses to finding lit up areas in tombs. But what appeared to be a mechanical chess player? That was new. Especially when it turned its head to look at her.

"Game?"

She recognized the ancient Turkish it spoke. She sat down, happy to not have to kill anything for a change.

Her gambits were pedestrian, some newer variations threw it, but she eventually lost.

In an instant her lifeforce was sucked in to power the machine.

Hopefully the wait was shorter this time.

Daily Habits

She would jog past my house every morning, usually around 7, ever since we moved in, so as that was when Carl would be watching his cartoon and I had a chance to smoke, we saw each other most mornings.

She clearly looked down on me, and my habit. But what business of hers was it? I loved my son with all my heart, but with his difficulties it took up so much time, I needed something.

Then I met her in the support group and felt bad.

Then found out she could afford live in help and felt better.

Conversations Over Controllers

"Player 1 has control!"

"So can I ask you something, Big Bro?"

"Player 2 has taken the lead!"

"Yeah, Sis?."

"Player 1 comeback!"

"When we picked this up down at the mall, what did that guy ask you?"

"Player 2 is falling!"

"What guy where?"

"Player 1 presses their advantage!"

"The guy with the pimples who sold us the game. He asked you something and looked at me weird."

"Player 2 picks up Smokescreen!"

"Well he was just asking if you were a gamer."

"Player 1 nearly has it!"

"Oh, should I invite him over?"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

"Player 2 wins!"

Noted Note

It wasn't meant to be anything important, just a short note she wrote instead of waking me up before she went to work. She had scribbled on the back of a used envelope, reminding me to pick up some eggs at some point in my errands, please.

We'd written notes like that to each other hundreds of times, none of them important outside of the messages, which were all just boring minutiae of our quiet little lives.

But this one was important, for the last bit, where she said 'love you'.

Last time she told me that, before the crash.

Chance Goblet

The goblet was passed around the table slowly, as per tradition, but really just to give those around the table time to change their mind about wanting to be ruler.

After all, it's one thing to say you should lead. It's another to be able to but having to risk your own life. Would you be the one to drink from the section without the poison?

There was a trick, of course, a way to ensure you won, that the wise men would tell their chosen ruler.

But ever since they were out to death by one of their choices...

The Found Letter

The letter was thin enough to just slip between the metal slot and the plaster wall that housed it. It was there, stuck between them, for a few dozen years, until there were renovations, and it, along with a few others, were found. The postal service tried to deliver all of them, but the letter was the only one that couldn't, and that had no return address.

The discussion was animated, until it was decided to open it, and hopefully find clues.

I was chosen.

First to open it, then by the letter inside, which had my name written down...

Green Skinned Alien Babe

It was a few months after Maikia had arrived on the spaceship and then agreed to become intimate with John that he sat her down and, with surprising tact for a human, presented her with a red dress to wear. She thought about it carefully.

"Oh I understand! I read about this! Humans have a tendency to want what they don't have. And since I observe my culture's traditional norms and do not wear clothing, you want me to wear some because it will be different and thus exciting?"

"Well, sort of. See, there was this character called Uhura, right?"

Surviving Fire

The tree was in the best spot to balance the sunlight needed to grow shining over the hills and the river flow nearby to keep the soil moist.

It had a few years of uninterrupted growth, enough to last through the first fire. There were a few more fires across the next decade or so, more than was needed for the health of the land. But the tree survived them all.

It grew tall, and strong, and thick, until it was the largest tree in the forest, then the largest one on the planet, then cut down to make matches.

Last Chance To Say It For The First Time

I pressed record on the holocamera.

I was silent for several seconds, wasting countless amounts of the Government's money.

"I just...

I probably should have thought about this beforehand. I mean, I thought about it before I pressed record, but all those nights I spent training for this mission, I should have taken some time to think what I'd say, if I had a chance to record one last message to you before I died because of radiation or reactor overload or...

I love you baby, and you were right about this.

Wait, is that the first time I've ever-"

Blowing It

As a child I heard this fable about a demon seeing a man blow on his hands ("To warm them up") and blow on his soup ("To cool it down") is convinced the human is a monster, being able to blow hot and cold.

It's supposedly about making bad judgements on incomplete information, but I always wondered why an intelligent creature doesn't understand relative temperatures.

But then later I realised that it's a demon. Hell only has one temperature level (warmish), so it works.

Then much later I found out it's a satyr, so I clearly didn't learn the lesson.

Free Two Wheeling

Mother was playing her colour matching gem game when Son raced in.

"How was your first day of school then?"

Son could hardly contain himself.

"When the bell went we all ran outside and there was this row of bicycles and we were all taking them and I took one and it's amazing they GAVE ME A BICYCLE!!!"

Well, of course Mother had to give him such a beating, and a lecture on stealing and taking things, then marched him to school the next day to apologize.

And then learn about the grant from the billionaire to get kids active.

Control Of My Life

Control.

I lacked it for most of my life. My mother was shackled when she gave birth to me, and once I was old enough to hold a tool, I was sold, and forced to work.

It took twenty years for a war to free me, or at least the chaos caused by war allowing me to gain control of my life by applying a tool to my former master's skull.

So now that I have control, finally, you want me to give it up and follow your rules?

Death is a choice. I can make that choice.

I do.

Hardened Up

There was a time, not too long ago, when I would have just let the insults go. I would have kept my head down, staring at my drink, and waited. Eventually most bullies get tired when they don't get a response.

But that was before I met her.

I don't think I've changed, at least not too much. It's not that she's changed me, I haven't suddenly altered my entire personality just because I met a girl.

It's just that if your new girlfriend could bench press a fridge, and was happy to beat people up, wouldn't you take advantage?

Too Much Of A James

Kate sat me down, and I prepared myself for her dumping me. She then proceeded to dump me, so I was ahead of the game. But the reason she dumped me was weird.

"You're just too much of a James."

I stared at her for a moment.

"My name is Ryan..."

"That's not what I mean."

"My middle name-"

"James was one of my previous boyfriends, and he was just as immature and self-obsessed as you are."

"But that was him, and I'm me. Give me time to change."

She did, and I tried, but she was a total Sharon.

Hate Versus Appreciation

If the panel had shut, I’d have been locked in there forever, or at least until I ran out of air. But as I crawled out, I saw the boot of Maffon holding it open. I manage to slide out.

“As much as you grumble about it, I guess that robot leg really helped…”

I had started speaking as I got to my feet, and didn’t notice until then it was his flesh leg that was now nearly cut through.

“What the… Why?”

He didn’t answer, instead just hopping to his foot and then hopping off to get medical attention.

Very Sweet Of Them

Even mega celebrities need coffee, and nice mega celebrities will take their turn at running down the block to the nearest coffee bar to grab a round of them.

This mega celebrity was a nice one, and it was their turn, so they were the one turning around and having an employee accidentally hit them with the mop and send the coffees they were buying flying.

The mega celebrity calmed the employee down, then turned to the manager and insisted that they see the employee there tomorrow. Which they did.

Shame it was supposed to be the employee’s day off.

Swear On Your Life

The Swordsman tightened his grip on the blade's hilt. Around him, the dozen or so bandits slowly began to approach him. A few dozen feet away, The Swordsman's servant was looking after the maiden they had come to rescue.

"I swear I will not kill any of you."

The maiden glanced at the servant.

"Does he always say that?"

The servant nodded.

"It is the code of his life. He's only ever broken it once."

"Oh, and that one terrible incident is what drives him to be a hero?"

"No."

"Do any of you have medical issues?" The Swordsman added.

Distressed Calling

The distress beacon didn't have a timestamp, neither in the message nor the metadata, so I was already suspicious. The ship graveyard that welcomed me as I dezoned into the system only confirmed my suspicions.

I should have left then, but I felt obligated to remove the threat, so I went to battlemode and approached the coordinates, expecting pirates or  maybe one of those giant space viruses. Instead, I found a ship matching the distress call, seeming to be suffering the described engine troubles.

Docking was simple enough, and I was prepared to help.

Not for small giant space viruses.

Playing The Old Man Card

As we walked into the first bar, I turned their ribbing of my being a few years older than them around and told them that my 'Old Man Card' would only be good to play once. They asked if I was playing it after the first round of beers, but it was forgotten as we moved onto shots, then the second bar, more shots, the titty bar, the Jagerbombs, the getting hands on, and then the cops got called.

But as the boys were 'interviewed' this old man was on the other side of the club, clearly not with them.

Inner Babysitter

Curt looked over the mess Mr. Fuzzlebucket had made of his home, paint and candy strewn everywhere. He looked at the yellow fuzzy catman that had been his childhood friend.

"Look, I've grown up, and-"

"You've forgotten your inner child!"

"I'M HAPPY!

I like having people rely on me, I love my wife, I even like broccoli now, with blue cheese sauce."

"But blue cheese is smelly!"

"That's... I don't need you anymore. I'm sorry."

"So am I. But if you're happy, I'm happy." said the catman as he slowly vanished.

Curt died of a heart attack three years later.

Kill Code

"The code you have entered is incorrect. Please try again."

I stared blankly. I reentered the code.

"The code you have entered is incorrect. Please try again."

I sighed, silently cursing modern technology, but not too hard as I knew all the positives it gave. I retyped the code, comparing it against the one I wrote down, and hit enter.

"The code you have entered is incorrect. Please try again."

I looked at the time, then in desperation looked again at the code, then replaced the zero with an O, getting in just in time to see the first killing.

With Their Dying Breath

Most the traps leading into the chamber had been set off decades, if not centuries prior, or were so rusted, worn, or broken, that they were easily avoidable.

I entered the chamber slowly, looking around in confusion as to where the light was coming from, until I saw the gem, sitting on a plinth, a nearly fully decomposed corpse lying next to it, one hand on the stone. I assumed that anything someone with their dying breath would try to claim must be valuable, so I took it.

How was I to guess their last action was putting it there?

Weak Arm

His arm would just shutdown every so often. It was over a decade old, and the firmware couldn't update past Version 5.7, so he treated it as just a thing he had to deal with.

Certainly he knew he was lucky to have one at all, he could easily be stuck with one of those claws, or even the suction cup models that never worked properly. So he put up with the arm just locking up and going dead until he could reset it.

Until the day it happened while he was driving, and his arm cost him his leg.

Hand On The Wheel

Trying to describe the lifeforms using only human analogies is difficult, you understand. It's sort of like your fungi lifeforms, but with viral characteristics, but silicon based, but with a bee style social structure but not really...

...

It's a smart rock that can grow and eat metal. Ok?

Right, so it was picked up in an asteroid belt, must have ruptured a hibernation vessel. Took out the shuttles before they learned what it was, and then they tried to blow up the ship, but by then we'd infected the human boobies.

Bodies, sorry, still learning how to steer this human.

The Talk

The radio in the corner of the diner was declaring that the Yankees had won the '56 World Series as World Champion wrestler The Masked Mountain, sans mask, and his doll, Betty, were squeezed into a corner booth as they had The Talk.

"I don't like to use the word 'fake', but the fact is that it's all a show. The moaning and groaning is for effect, the sweat is real, but only because of how hard I have to work to make it look real!

So that's why I'm leaving you, I need a man who's good in bed."