Physical

Our first interaction was when I hit her over the head with a toy truck. In my defense, I was five at the time, and she hit me right back.

Our relationship remained somewhat physical, most of the time we spent together as kids was when we were playing soccer (three pennants in a row!) or volunteering with building homes for the needy.

Throughout high school, we stayed friends, even as I took up basketball and she became a state champion runner.

But then one night we got physical.

In my defense I was drunk and she kissed right back.

Take The Shot

Take the shot.

Every time I was about to assassinate someone, I heard his voice.

Take the shot.

He taught me everything, every way to kill from a distance and the needed mindset.

Take the shot.

You couldn't get hung up on the morality of the mortality, you just did thd job and moved on.

Take the shot.

When I got the offer from my current employers, he wasn't a fan, but he told me what I needed to hear.

"Take the shot."

I did, both the job and the final task to get it, which was to shoot him.

Hall Of Power

I used to think that the problem with this place was that everyone was only out to stab everyone else in the back. That no-one truly cared about their colleagues nor their constituents, just about their own position and how to improve it.

Certainly I didn't, I was always looking on how to ensure my position and sabotage my enemies on both sides of the aisle.

But then I got shot. Some crazy nutjob worried about corn subsidies. And all my fellow politicians supported me so amazingly.

It was then I realised they also wanted to look like they cared.

Sky Of Ozone

Leo threw his head back, his thick hair falling back across his scalp. Before him, stretching out into the distance, the golden starlight bridge called him and his new allies. He glanced at them, at much to steel his nerves then to check on their readiness.

The robot, his personality matrix damaged but otherwise still functioning.

The cloned solider, trying to become more than just another body to throw in a looping guard circuit, needing a soul.

And the girl, a stowaway. Name of Rosanna, which felt slightly off but yet appropriate all the same, somehow. He wasn't sure why.

Rechal Janice Worth

He'd been running from responsibility his entire life, thanks to stupidly rich parents who indulged him as long as he stayed on the right side of the law. He had little interest in joining the family business and even less in forging his own path.

But then he was involved in one of his on-again/off-again (and equally rich) girlfriends getting pregnant. The families viewed it as a merger opportunity and also assumed that on this day, as he held his daughter for the first time, he would grow up.

He was on a plane to Tokyo within 4 hours.

Subclause 17, Subsection 6

The Very Important Executive placed the contract before me. The Very Important Executive handed me a pen and smiled, as a couple of his flunkies looked on. I knew I was going to sign it, walking out now would get me a reputation. But I felt the need to at least pretend to do due diligence. So I flicked through the contract as if I was speedreading it then stopped at a random clause, and demanded clarification about what 'ancillary rights' meant.

I guess I got lucky that I picked the one they wanted to screw me over with later.

Needed Rekindling

The candle was about to burn out, a thin trail of smoke and a tiny flame the only thing still illuminating the room. The flame had stopped reflecting off the good silver, the now lukewarm unopened bottle of champagne, the crystal glasses, it now only just spilt light over the cold lobster and the hardened desserts. Apart from the water glass having moved several times, the table was untouched from several hours earlier, when the romantic dinner was supposed to start. But then given she had grabbed his hand and dragged him to the bedroom instead, he didn't mind it.

Semi-Natural Resource

It helps to imagine magic like a liquid, like water. Like water, it can do amazing things, but a lot of things need a lot of it and a lot of time to do it properly. A spell to change the world these days, with the amount of magic available, needs decades to fully cast. Sure, in the old days you could vanish a whole island with a wave of your hand, these days you need years to rebuild a bridge.

Unless you build a dam, and wait, and then cast when it is ready.

And I'm ready...

Now.

Goodbye.

Eye Scream

It started as just a small pinprick of pain behind my eye. It would throb when I was tired or stressed. But that was rare, so I didn't think too much of it.

But slowly it became larger and would bother me more often. I probably should have seen a doctor, but there's always another crisis to deal with, another issue to sort out. So I just put up with it.

Then one day it just vanished. No more pain, nothing. I thought I was just lucky.

The idea I'd just stopped feeling anything there didn't occur to me, sadly.

Till Death

The maid found the body, and alerted the Master, who strode into the bedroom for the first time in ten years.

Their marriage had been purely for convenience, she had a title but no money, he had money and no title, and they were both good enough at acting appropriately.

And yet, at this point, as he gazed at the body in his wife's bed, he felt, for just a moment, a pang of actual sadness at the end of their relationship. But it passed, and he did what he had to, calling the cops to arrest his murdering wife.

The Line

The line was holding.

Wave after wave of the enemy kept rushing towards their position, and falling back with slightly fewer of their number. They would regroup, then return after a few moments and try once more to break through.

They had to hold, if they lost this battle they would lose everything. They were the final stand, the final troops. They were fighting for the civilians behind them, their families. They fought with all they had.

Far inside the enemy lines, a general looked through his eyeglass, while another one stood nearby.

"How is it?"

"The line was holding."

DeathToAll.exe

No more than seventeen lines of code, sitting on a flash drive. Stored between a jpeg of a large breasted Japanese woman and the save data for a flash rpg about beating up women.

If the code was inserted into a website's code, it would eventually being down the entire internet, at least as much of it not unplugged in time. Self-replicating, practically impossible to stop, it would infect, spread, then shut the computer down, nothing but a total wipe would fix it.

It was uploaded three months ago. But thankfully it was uploaded with the spelling mistakes not spotted.

Maintaining Control

It had been five weeks since we left the dock, and three weeks since we last had a decent wind. Tempers were frayed, to say the least.

The quartermaster had reduced rations down to a fifth, and cut grog down to a tenth. While the crew wasn't talking about mutiny just yet, the Captain could feel it in his bones.

This is when drastic actions needed to be made. The captain did realise this, and intended to do whatever he had to to keep the crew happy.

But he wouldn't let them touch the cargo. Good slaves cost too much.

Bit Of Cardboard

It was my high school formal, right before we finished our time there and moved on to university or work or whatever. They have out awards, most studious, most popular. I won one, biggest grub, the most messy. I got a laugh by walking up to collect the award with a pitcher of cola I was drinking from.

Afterwards she came up to me. She was the class president, the best and brightest. I was just the big guy everyone knew and no one hated, and because of those two apparently equal traits, we had both been chosen to be the student representatives on a school report thing, I'd not paid much attention during the meetings. We weren't friends as such but she was friendly with most people, apparently.

But as a few people were dancing and others were drinking or kissing or both, she asked something of me.

"Why do you play that up? You don't have to act like that."

I gave a noncommittal answer and slinked away, not wanting to get into a debate, but I think about her a lot off and on.

I feel bad that she must live her entire life playing a role.

Lost Role

To the few people who knew of the factoid, it was just that, a cute little factoid. Anna Pivot's sole acting credit was nominated for the highest award in acting, technically giving her a spotless record for nominations, if not awards as that year was won by the woman who usually wins.

But the thing is, everyone who knows this, none of them seem to be worried that they haven't seen the movie, no one seems to have seen it, or have a copy of it.

And this was only three years ago! Not cool!

Unless the movie sucks, maybe.

Protective Lies

"You've lied to me about who you are this entire time?"

Of all the reactions to this accusation she would have predicted as likely, a bemused smile would not have made her list. And yet that's what occurred.

"Of course I did. If I hadn't, you'd have turned me in without a moment's hesitation."

She considered this. She would have agreed with him but she was still angry.

"And are you lying about anything else?"

"Sure. So that you can't be held accountable for my actions and slash or go mad. But I'll be honest with you soon" he lied.

Star Immigration

Taken individually, each wave of immigrants from the stars, while facing the usual xenophobia and discrimination that most immigrants faced, were accepted into Earth society.

But after a few generations, there was obvious and clear lines drawn. The ghettos were dirty, poorly maintained, full of crime and drugs and all the issues that come with the term 'ghetto'.

The governments made token efforts to alleviate the poverty, but there was always the fact that everyone knew that it was an inevitable part of their nature.

I mean, have you looked up how the Humans acted prior to their superiors coming?

Flashed

There was a camera in the other room. Someone had fed the feed to the small monitor in front of me. Given I was tied up and gagged, it drew my full attention.

As soon as I saw my wife on the screen, my heart sank. Was she going to be beaten up or tortured, or worse? There was no audio, so I couldn't hear the order given to her by the gunman, but her hands went to her top and I looked away, until the flash of metal as she drew a knife and threw it.

At the camera.

Forgotten Bill

Bill! Better do that tomorrow. I keep forgetting, so much going on, with the new system at work taking so much of my time to implement, not to mention the quarterly reports being due soon. Plus I've got my side gig making and selling brooches online, that's taking off now, gotta knock out a few dozen of those by Sunday as well. Then you toss in my gym time, the charity work stuff I keep quiet on mostly, and finding time to binge on Reality TV occasionally, things slip your mind.

But tomorrow I really should break up with Bill.

Black Blade

He made swords, daggers, anything with an edge that cut, he could make. Being in a coastal trading village allowed him to encounter and study blades from all across the seas. From the thinnest rapiers to the thickest broadswords, he knew how to make them all.

Except one.

It hung over his fireplace, pockmarked and blackened, yet still the sharpest blade he had found. Every so often he would make another attempt to recreate it, trying a new alloy or method, but never working out how to make it.

He just held it to the next cycle of the world.

Thoughtful Gesture

My Dearest One,

I do not have much time. Not nearly enough to tell you in every way how much I love you, barely enough time to finish this note. Suffice to say, i adore you and wish that this could have been avoided, or at least delayed some in order for me to spend more time loving you.

But, I do not control time, nor space, not even those coming for me. All I control is this hand that writes these words, that mails the envelope, and that includes the keys to the lockbox as well.

Love,
Your Beloved

Figures By Firelight

Two figures, backlit from the burning remains of a formerly impenetrable fortress. The first figure draws a blade, long, sharp, dripping with fluid.

"Any last words?"

The second figure, their arm also dripping with fluid, takes a step backwards, as if that would help.

"Surrender and you'll not be harmed."

The blade drops in clear bemusement.

"Really? You honestly think that I should surrender to you? You honestly think you have the upper hand here?"

The second figure shrugs, the movement painful.

"Sort of, but really I just wanted to delay you."

The first figure is decapitated by a third.

Hand That Drinks

The booze was kicking in as I got kicked out. So my otherwise erudite argument on the subject of why I should be allowed to remain inside the venue was slurred. Clearly the only reason it failed, I'm sure.

As I finished my appeal with speculation about the parentage of the bouncer and if the two were in fact related, I felt a hand sliding into my pocket.

Such a low act, to try to pickpocket a man at that point! I suddenly thrust my hip towards the wall to break their hand.

Or my hand, as it turned out.

My Robot Buddy (TM)

My Robot Buddy (TM) sat down on the end of the bed.

"Hiya! Whatcha doin'?"

The girl looked up slowly, her eyes red and sore.

"Crying! What do you think?"

My Robot Buddy (TM) paused, their irises rotating as they downloaded new information.

"Happy crying?"

"No!"

My Robot Buddy (TM)'s irises spun more.

"So you're upset then?"

She glared at My Robot Buddy (TM) but nodded, once. My Robot Buddy (TM) took a long moment, its online search engine moving away from the approved datasets to other data sources.

Her new robotic friend gently touched her hand with its own.

Without Her

How could I rebuild my life after her?

How could I even begin to try and piece together some semblance of normality without her?

How could I go about my day, how could I pretend everything was fine, how could I go grocery shopping or pay bills or even just talk to someone without bursting into tears and falling to my knees?

How could I?

She was gone without a proper goodbye. But I know that if she was able to come back to say goodbye, she'd first kick my ass if she thought I couldn't go on without her.

The Love Bench

The bench was built as part of a general push to pretty up the area, one of several in the park that were installed by the local council. But it was the only one that had a nice sea view, and that was nestled in bushes that hid it from the rest of the park.

So, as you expected, it was popular with local couples who wanted to, as they say, experiment with enjoying each other's company in public.

Now I'm sure they do enjoy each other, but someone has to clean it up.

Although maybe they also enjoy it.

Fooling Death

Fooling Death actually isn't that hard, assuming it thinks you don't deserve to be removed from this level of existence. All the games, all the tricks, be it playing poker or asking for a candle's length time, as long as you can give it an out, it is fairly easygoing about giving you more time. Either because of some sense of morality or just making its job easier, I don't know. But yeah, fooling Death is easy.

Fooling Life on the other hand, that's the real challenge. Extending a life is easy. Stopping it beforehand, that's hard.

But not impossible.

Evil Neighbor

The house to the left of mine was a small foreign family, husband and wife, young kid, and a grandma. They were nice enough to my face, but I suspected they were hiding something.

On the right was a loner, always had a baseball cap and sunglasses on when he came out of his house. He got deliveries all day, and sure he had the flag flying in the yard, but I knew that he was dangerous.

So believe me, when the new regime took over, I was more than happy to report them and see them all in chains.2

Well...

I dropped a coin into the well, and waited. After a few long moments, a translucent being drifted up out of it. The wishgranter looked at me quizzically.

"Why wake me up? The last wish was pretty definitive I thought."

I sighed. "Yeah, well, I want to reverse it. You can do that, right?"

An eyebrow raised.

"I can, but why reverse making everyone happy forever?"

"Because I'm sick of being happy!"

"Well then no, I can't help you."

"What, why?"

"If you're not happy, then something more powerful is influencing-"

The more powerful thing then made their presence known.

Click Clack

She could easily have gotten a silent keyboard, if she had to have a physical one rather than the usual light projected type. But the click-clack of the manual keys was essential to her work, she'd claim. She learnt how to code and then hack from her grandfather, and he had a noisy keyboard, see.

Given how she spent her life on the run, always having to be one step ahead, such a nostalgic tchotchke should have been a major disadvantage.

Except people focused on trying to hear her, and the keyboard actually had a light projector in the bottom.

The Witch In The Forest

There was a story about the forest that was told to small children when they were naughty, and to visitors to the town pub when they were drunk. The details were slightly different depending on the narrator, but they all agreed that there was an evil witch in the middle of the forest just waiting to snatch up anyone who wandered into the forest, but especially children left there by parents. She would take them home and cook them up and eat their bones.

Total nonsense of course. She merely used their flesh in her spells to keep her alive.