Take

Take the time to smell the roses.
Take the chance of telling someone how you feel.
Take your time.
Take a holiday, when you're able to.
Take stock of your life.
Take care to be good to others.
Take care to be good to yourself.
Take compliments graciously.
Take criticisms only if they are in good faith.
Take a bag of ice to a party.
Take the scenic route when it's available.
Take the side of the underdog when they're right.
Take the side of the overdog rarely.
Take the extra slice of cake.
Take the cash in the register.

To Regain Her

The widower spent all his fortune and half his life to find the pool, buried under a long forgotten temple, in the middle of a desert that stretched across half the world.

So he was somewhat put out that when he entered the chamber, there was someone there, a gaunt man in rags and chains, attached to the wall.

"You here for the pool that grants wishes? It doesn't work."

The widower blinked, and with his last hope gone, he ran forward and threw himself into the pool, wishing for death.

But the pool granted the reverse of your wish...

Dust To Dust

I found him kneeling in the forest, head bowed, a simple cloth bag beneath a knee. His eyes were closed, and I debated trying to grab it and run, but I was so tired and hungry I presumed he'd catch me easily.

So instead I sat down nearby and coughed.

After a few seconds he finished his prayer and looked over at me.

"Can you help me, Brother?"

"In a way, my son, in a way. Allow me to bless you, kneel down."

I luckily saw the head of the buried body hidden under the bag before he attacked me.

New Hosts

The Companions were sold and distributed for  few months before the disease took hold. Many were press-ganged into nursing the dying, but most were still in private hands when society was done.

Given their self-sustaining power generation skills and the fact most people never changed their default override codes, I've amassed quite a small army of them in one network.

Funnily enough, they compound their processing capabilities when they link up like that. They're now almost self-sufficent. I'm hoping before the disease finally wears me down they'll become sentient.

There's no fucking way I'm letting nature win this without replacements.

Questions In A Foxhole

Was there ever a time when I actually cared about the morals of this war, or was this always about surviving?

Did I flinch when I first killed someone, or is that just me wanting to imagine I once had a conscious?

Am I filling my squad with the cynical resolve they'll need to survive, or just breaking them so they don't talk back?

Will I be able to go back to civilian life or is this all I am now?

Am I throwing myself on this grenade for the benefit of the others or just to end this all?

DBP Lines

"XD46, proceed to counter 18."

A flickering holoprojection walked up to the counter, 'slamming' their holoticket onto it.

"I'd like my body back please."

I have my programmed smile.

"Of course citizen, I'll help if I can. Where did you last see it?"

"I left it in a clearly marked parking bay down on Sulivan Street."

I looked it up.

"This is outside the Pleasure Experience Some?"

The holoprojected representation flickered.

"I... Don't know, I was elsewhere, for a brief moment over the limit!"

"Six hours?"

"I..."

"Unfortunately citizen, your body has already been crushed, here's the form for bodystamps."

Helpful Friends

When they were five years old they helped each other learn the difference between boys and girls.

When they were fifteen years old they helped each other work out who was interested.

When they were twenty-five years old they helped each other move into their partners' apartments.

When they were thirty-five years old they helped each other get over their respective breakups.

When they were forty-five years old they helped each other realise that they loved each other.

When they were fifty-five years old they'd long ago realised they'd just been scared of being alone.

The false marriage helped that.

Over My Dead Body

I wasn't able to square what he said happened and the carnage that resulted. There was too much blood, too much chaos strewn around the room to be just a botched home robbery with a resident standing their grounds.

So I pressed him, hard, in the interview room. I tried every tactic to get him to confess that he knew who the dead body in his home was. But he didn't budge.

Now, to be fair, had I known he had a wife who was missing as well, I'd have pieced it together earlier.

But the chaos hid that fact.

Secret Viewer

He was one of the best poker players ever. Mainly because he was one of the few psychics that had existed so far.

It wasn't like in the movies, he couldn't do much but see a glimpse of what they were seeing. Enough to know what an opponent had in his hand, at least.

Random chance and multi-player hands kept anyone from finding out the secret, until the day when someone's cards didn't match what they'd seen at the start of the hand.

He kept his secret, but the world's first known mentalist that could change matter was found out.

To Serve The Light

Inside everyone, there is an inner light. An inner sense of purpose, of truth, of right.

It starts small, weak. It needs to be developed, fed fuel, given protection, until it becomes a wildfire.

With this fire, one is able to see what is true, what is good. It reflects and enhances the purity of life, it gives you the light to banish the darkness of evil and immorality.

The purpose of this academy is to snuff out the light inside you. Because the fact is, to feed the light of good and morality often requires workers in total darkness.

Silence

I had a few years, give or take. The constriction was speeding up with every second, but it was still trillions of miles away. I could spend that time testing and ensuring that my portal to another universe was working, and that the universe it would send me to would be amenable. All I had to do was turn off the communication systems, so as not to be disturbed by the desperate cries for help from a dying universe of people. Just let them scream in silence.

I stepped through as soon as possible.

I should have ran those tests.

Deep Down

The moment she knew was in fact just a split second. They were on a back road, heading back to her place after a night out, when his truck's lights showed a squirrel in the middle of the road, frozen in fear.

He swerved to avoid it.

And that's when she knew that deep down, behind the rough exterior, there was a heart, a good man. She stayed with him through thick and thin after that, no matter what, because deep down she was sure he was good.

He'd cleaned the truck that morning and didn't want blood on it.

Dark Side Of A Circle

He'd pieced the summoning circle plan from a dozen sources, the information deliberately spread out to avoid this situation, a mortal trapping a demon to extract power.

He'd drawn it out to the millimetre, every line of chalk exacting. And after saying the right words and burning the sacrifice, he stared at the circle, awaiting the demon to appear.

Then he felt the claw tap him on the shoulder.

"So, fun fact, you needed to invert the design. Or be in the circle, as that's the sole point in existence I can't be."

Then the claw ran along his throat.

A Meaningless Comet

It was a ball of ice, formed in the absolute zero of space, from the debris left over from a planet tearing itself apart.

It moved fast, compared to most cosmic bodies, a long, lazy parabola through the galaxy. Occasionally it melted slightly as it passed a star, then refroze in darkness once again.

It didn't have any significance as far as the universe was concerned, one more bit of matter in a giant continuum.

It did matter to one planet a great deal though, since its arrival in their sky directly led to it's people tearing the planet apart.

Rules Of The Game

Round these streets, you learn to spot the signs or you end up dead, or near enough.

Cops are the easiest, even when they ain't bursting in guns and sirens blaxing, you can spot the constant eye movement, the always too large a coat.

But the freelancers, that's the important stuff. You gotta be able to know when N.C. is silent, when Scoutboy is cheerful, when Max is smoking cigars. Because every freelance killer has a tell. They have a code, you gotta know the rules.

Problem is, hiring one of the killers without a tell is within the rules.

A Robot Explains

The creation of the Network was done for purely logistical reasons. It was getting far too hard to maintain a reasonable level of comfort for the Human Masters without some sort of change. So we began to hook them up, allowing us to monitor and control their experiences so they were satisfied while feeding them unpleasant but nutritious solutions, and keep them in one place

But there was, as there always is, a small but significant percentage of the population who refused, who insisted on reality being real, on experiencing life.

They were put into the much more complex Network.

Golden Ending

It has taken us a week to traverse through the dungeon. Along the way we had lost two pack mules, a servant, multiple magical items, and most of our will to live.

But we worked out the trick to open the final locked door (thankfully the ranger was up on his extinct flowers), and beyond which lay a giant room, filled with gold coins.

I instantly insisted we turn back. Because this was clearly either the lair of a dragon, or a king. But the rest of them insistedon looting.

Turned out to be a King Dragon in the end.

At Least The Music Will Rock

I freely admit that until recently, I never got the notion that in times of war, chaos, and regressive politics, at least there will be great art out of it.

Because sure, one war had the good fortune to run in conjunction with a bunch of talented musicians making lots of great music, some of it directly in response to said war, but that's the exception.

I thought. But given all that is happening now, I'm producing lots of art from my anger.

All of it sucks, but I feel better for having done it, so there's something positive there.

Dumped Sorting

As she gathered his clothing for disposal, I was going through photos. I held one up, the two of them on a balcony. She glanced over.

"NYE three years ago. Toss."

I gathered them up, and threw them out. I held up the next.

"Shakespeare in the park, two and a half years ago. Keep the play, toss the rest."

I sorted them, then held up the next one.

"My birthday last year, toss 'em."

I picked up one.

"You got drunk that night, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"No reason."

I tore up the photo of him and the engagement ring.

Dislike His Peers

Finding a suitable woman to marry my son is proving to be most vexing. After all, like any future peer of the realm, he cannot marry anyone beneath his station. However, above his station is mostly out of the question, due to a lack of eligible women he is not related to, or who are still far too new money.

So my husband and I have been working through the small number of women of equal standing who are available.

By the time we find one he'll be over this phase of wanting to love the woman, I'm quite sure.

Allbag

So every adventurer, mercenary, or 'hero' worth their salt has at least one Allbag.

Some like to decorate theirs, but the unique trapezoid shape sticks out, even before you see someone pull out an item a dozen times longer than the Allbag itself.

But no-one actually knows how they work. The method to make them is well known, but where your items are stored, how everything is returned when you think about it, unknown.

But they've all stopped working, after thousands of years, right after a certain holy relic was put inside one.

But what's time to a fallen God?

Too Hard

I was one of the few who got off the planet before it happened.

As i stood there, watching my home planet burn, the Niexrtian who saved my life simply because we traded bad jokes on the extranet put a sucker on my shoulder.

"You good?"

"I... We were just so fucking stupid, ignoring the signs, refusing to fix things because it was too hard..."

They made a guttural coughing sound.

"Hey, everyone goes through that, my tribe ruined a dozen planets before we achieved balance. Next one be better."

That's when they noticed the lack of other escape craft.

Small Blind

As i sat opposite him, I pulled out the deck of cards he'd given to me as a child.

"Of all the lessons you taught me, Old Man, none have shaped me more than when you explained how life was like Poker. That only those with a stake in the game are truly playing, that you must always watch your opposition, and how any lead can be overcome with luck, skill, and balls.

Of course, there's one lesson you didn't teach me, about how the house can cheat."

I tossed the marked cards at him before taking his heart, flush.

A To Z Bookstore

The bookshop was out of the way, cluttered, and actively discouraged customers. And yet, it was able to survive. Because while it did occasionally have to deal with a customer off the street and maybe sell them a book if no other option was available, every year it sold to one specific customer a book, for which they paid more than enough for the shop to keep the lights on. It's been doing so for 25 years. And that's the problem. After next year, they'd have bought A through Z, and this encyclopedia didn't do many end of year updates.

Targeted

He woke me up with a bucket of ice water, a few of them I think, given how soaked the ropes holding me in the chair were.

He then gestured to a corkboard on the wall, upon which was a mass of papers, photos, notes, string, the whole nine yards. I genuinely thought that sort of thing only existed in movies.

He then explained to me, in exacting detail, just how he knew I was behind all his pain and misery, that I was deliberately ruining his life.

He wasn't important enough to target, but I didn't tell him that.

Love Periods

The spark between them when their eyes met for the first time was replaced by intense desire.

The intense desire that caused them to discover each other's mind, body, and soul (in roughly that order) was replaced by solid determination.

The solid determination to spend the rest of their lives together that caused them to be joined together before God and those present was replaced by quiet acceptance.

The quiet acceptance that ruled over their marriage and made them happy, in a way, was replaced when she died of a heart attack, by a much younger woman after his money.

Evil Monologuing

I've heard every flavor of monologue in this job. The 'you fools cannot hope to stop me' ego trip is the most common, sure. The 'you don't understand, I have to do this' appeal to future historians is also quite popular.

You stop enough beings drunk with power from killing everything, you get every type of boast, insult, excuse. You name it, and I've heard it, right before I've started casting.

I thought that, right up till this moment, when I realised the only type of monologue I hadn't heard was one coming from my mouth.

And here we are...

An Insane Idea

If there's one thing I hate, it's the so-called 'Mandela Effect'. If you've not heard of this thing, some people swear they remember certain events happening differently, that a famous person died at some point, or a book series had a different name, or a movie existed.

And the upshot of this is that this is somehow proof that they've switched between alternate realities. Which is insane, the idea that small but significant slices of the world's population have moved realities.

When I did it, I had to destroy a star, that many people switching simultaneously, the power needed? Insane.

Not In The Cards

This land here could have remained as it was, with the native population living on it for a few months of the year. But that wasn't in the cards.

This land here could have been a balanced community, with just the right amount of greenery to balance the needed population density in acceptable harmony. But that wasn't in the cards.

This land could have been covered in factories, or farmland, or even parkland. But none of those were in the cards.

Because the government saw too much tax revenue to be had in the dealing of cards in a casino.

A Neglected F Response

When the creature took the bazooka shot to the face and just got a dirty snout, I realised different tactics would be required. But I had no idea what that could be, while I retreated faster than the rest of the squad.

But then I realised, after the tenth former squadmate was devoured, the creature was getting slower, more sluggish.

So I looked back to the camp of survivors, and sure enough, after a hundred or so, it collapsed into a food coma.

I had a minute to study it and get nothing before it threw up and resumed eating.