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.

The Mechanical Turkey

It was the talk of the court, a mechanical wonder that could play a dozen grandmasters of chess at once, and be competitive at it.

Once I was finally able to see the device for myself, although of course its designers refused to let me see the inner workings.

I pointed out to the court that given it needed an even number of players, of white and black, it was merely transferring moves.

So they sat me down and played a solo game.

I was amazed, until I quickly started a second game and it made the exact same moves.

Building Momentum

On our approach to the evil wizard's sanctum, we knew they would be able to detect our approach. And we assumed that they must have seen us as no threat, given that they sent Undead Servants and other pitiful magical beings at us.

But the closer we got, the stronger the summoned minions became, which made sense.

After fighting through a wave of Hellfire Angels, we made it into the sanctum, only to find a dead wizard, and a desperate looking child of said wizard casting spells from the wizard's spellbook in order of entry.

Sadly, Perfect Fireball was next.

Temporal Cogs

There were one hundred and twenty-four points on the timeline that had to remain fixed. New recruits always found that number surprising, followed by being crushed by the realisation that they're not important, and then the real test, when they realised that (by design) their first mission would remove all their loved ones.

The ones who rebelled never seemed to realise during their attempts at stopping us that we're all in control of time machines, and thus if they do refuse orders, we can just go back and stop their recruitment.

They can't believe that time travel explodes heads, surely.

Moving The Bar

He stared, bleary-eyed, at the flashing green bar, willing it to move, to grow.

He'd been here... Far too long, certainly. And he'd be here even longer if the computer didn't just finish installing.

Was it downloading? Unpacking? Repacking? Certainly it was making noises, the cursor moved fine, it wasn't frozen.

Just stationary.

He made a big deal of getting up and going to get a coffee, being careful not to look at the screen until he dramatically took a sip, ready for a spittake.

The bar hadn't moved.

He banged his head on the desk, dislodging the power cord.

2 Coins Worth Of Paperwork

"Name?"

"Impudent fool, do you know who you are addressing?"

"Obviously not, since I'm asking for your name."

"You dare-"

"Although I suppose it's true that I am supposed to go through the checklist with everyone, even if I do know them."

"You are addressing Lord Master Veida, and you-"

"Right, got it. Cause of death?"

"Cause of death? What?"

"You're supposed to have been given an orientation package, that bloody ferryman, he's always slacking off..."

"But... But my plan was perfect! I was to become a god!"

"Yeah, funny how the current one might have issue with that, huh?"

Choice Of Answers

In the village, there was two answers available for any type of question.

If you had a medical question, Doc Sims could answer it, but so could Old Lady McGiven.

A spiritual question? Oh, well Reverend Scott could answer it for a donation, or you could try Jack at the bar, with a different type if donation.

History, well if Professor Glaas didn't know it, then Keoth would explain it for you, even if he didn't know it.

But there was one question asked by most newly grown people.

The answer was either Selina or Mike, depending on your preference.

Space Gumshoe

My assistant Detective (in training) found the holodata crystal in the dead Anvstalight's pouch. She was about to search for info on the extranet, when I stopped her.

I explained on the way over that if we searched upline, we'd be discovered. We'd need a low-tech solution. She pointed out, astutely, that their weren't many aliens on Earth to ask.

Rule of the job, you need to get info on anything alien, you go where you know there's aliens, the red light district.

She assumed I'd have to spend the full hour inside for appearances' sake. I didn't correct her.

Small Text Case

I walked into the room just as he was signing his name to the contract held by horned and red-skinned being. I stuttered slightly as I tried to get out a question as to what he was doing. However he was to respond, I'll never know, given the creature behind him thrust forward, right through the chest, his words dying just before he did.

"You... He did a deal with the devil and didn't include protection?"

The devil chuckled.

"Oh, he did. But why would you assume I'd obide by a contract? What, you think upstairs is gonna do anything?"

Catch A Light

She lit the match with a shaking hand, needing a few strikes on the box before it caught.

Holding it out in front of her, the sole illumination in the room, the red-tinged light danced across the tears on her face.

She had only to drop it, and it would all end. The trail of fuel would catch, the fire would reach the cans, boom.

All the memories. All the pain. All the hatred. Gone.

She watched as the flame consumed the match, until it began to burn her fingers.

She dropped the match.

Then caught it with her foot.

Like The Wind

When he spurred his horse to try and outrun the law, the wind was brisk, the fog heavy.

When his horse had dropped dead at a point halfway up the mountain, the wind had been strong and the snowfall light.

When he got to the ridge near the top of the  mountain, the wind was intense and the track murderous.

When his luck changed and he saw the cave opening, the wind was gale force and the opening inviting.

When he settled down in the cave, the wind was outside and the sherrif already in the cave was heavily armed.

Message Delivered

The spacecraft landed in an otherwise unimportant field just outside the city. The field itself was empty, but for a mile around it there were thousands of scientists, soldiers, and various other government officials.

The hatch opened a few moments after landing, and the mechanical being slowly walked out, carrying a silver tube.

Every attempt to communicate with the being, from musical notes to bullets failed to stop it. It just kept walking, leaping over any obstacle it couldn't avoid.

Until it reached a house in the suburbs, where the shapechanged Niollmic swore he'd pay for quiet shipping next time.

Unwilling Lifebond

The Fairyfolk have by now removed any threat humans could pose to them. They long ago mastered passing as humans, then invisibility came soon after. Every human weapon was useless against them, and they could now just wait them out and then fix the planet.

However, there was one possible problem, as a human could, in theory, create an Unwilling Lifebond and forever link their destiny and life with a Fairyfolk. But any human who studied long enough to know the correct spell they would sense.

Unless a papercut caused a gamer to draw a Spiritsymbol as they chanted in-character.

Why The Jury Found Her Guilty

The foreman was just happy there was a consensus.

Juror #1 just wanted to go home.

Juror #2 genuinely believed the accused was guilty.

Juror #3 was racist.

Juror #4 was sexist.

Juror #5 was racist and sexist.

Juror #6 actually believed she was innocent, but was too shy to speak up about it.

Juror #7 wasn't sure about the suspect's guilt, but felt they hadn't served enough time on their previous sentence.

Juror #8 just went with the group.

Jurors #9 and #10 hated her religion.

And Juror #11 knew who actually did it and couldn't believe their luck.

Missed Step

We were halfway through salvaging the spaceship when the Lawtype docked. We had just enough time to hide in the weapon storage room before bootfall.

I had no time to panic before Screwdriver pointed to a panel.

"Open, get ready to pull red, then jump."

I did as she said, opening the panel to find a bunch of red cables. As i got a grip, Screwdriver turned all the energy bolt magazines into a giant battery.

She should have told me to let go of the artificial gravity cables once I pulled them if she was gonna electrocute the ship.

To Midnight

I sat by my phone, the timer on it counting down, as I stared at the door.

In a few short moments, it would be midnight. And at midnight, it would be a new year. And the new year that came without my stupid step-child paying off the debt they owed to my family would be the year my deceased partner's estate would be all mine.

My phone beeped as midnight struck.

I went to call my broker, when I saw the email from the bank from a few hours prior of the massive transfer my step-child had sent though.

The Purpose

Not that there was much of a point
To anything, sorry to disappoint

I know many of you were hoping
For one to use for your coping.

But no, this all was just chance
An unguided mess of a cosmic dance

If you found purpose in this mess
Then to this point I must really stress

You're welcome to have it for your own
To measure out your own lives that you've sown

But that's all it can be
Leave others alone and free
Their futures are theirs to decree
Not yours, signed, the force that will forever oversee

Notgod.

Cocky Ring Wearer

It took him five years of travelling the lands, exploring and fighting, to collect ten rings of various powers. Which worked well, until he gained a ring of antifall.

But at the suggestion of one of his fellow mercenaries, he slid the ring onto his toe, and it still worked. So for the next three years he was fine, as he collected nine more rings.

Then came the twenty-first ring, one of immense power. But he still wanted the rest of them. But he had a solution.

He hung it on a necklace.

What else did you think he'd do?

Stream Transcript

"Um, so hi, welcome to the Spin Cycle. On today's stream, I'm going to, like, be playing through Sonic 2 as Knuckles, and-"

*splash*

"Oh, thank you Al_Scarface for the donation of ten thousand dollars, very generous. Anyway, as I was-"

*splash*

"Tommy_DeLay with the five thousand dollars , thank you so much!"

*splash*

"Swiss_Banker420 with the twenty thousand, man you are all so kind to the stream tonight, so why don't we-"

*knocking*

"Uh, be right back, someone's at my door."

*smashing*

"Mayer Plansky, you are under arrest for money laundering, you have the right to, wait turn that off!"

Generation Translation

The Captain had volunteered for the mission since he was so close to retirement, he knew and accepted the ship had a good chance of not coming back.

No-one had ever flown so close to a singularly like this, but given it was approaching Earth, we needed to investigate.

His message back about the singularity's actions and appearance had a reference to a vinyl record skipping, which I translated for the tech boys as a social media video looping, to help.

And that was why we all died, because a social media video is supposed to loop. A record isn't.

Battery

I got about ten or so solid strikes across the back of him before the baseball bat began to splinter. So I turned to throw it into the bin, when I saw her, our eyes meeting as she peeked down the stairs into the basement.

I turned back and made sure the guy was still secured before I slowly headed up the stairs while trying to work out how to explain everything.

But all she was upset about was that I broke her baseball bat. I promised to buy her a new one then went back down to finish up.

Risk And Opportunity

I first saw the tattoo as he reached up to stack toilet cleaner on the aisle 7, section 12, shelf 2. Three Chinese Hanzi characters. I instantly knew the backstory, and how it clearly meant 'fate' or some such according to him. At least it wasn't a swear word, he got off light with 'bulldog'.

When we were on break, I asked him (slyly) what it meant. He told me it was his horoscope, how he was Taurus in one system, born in the year of the Dog in the other, thus he was a Bulldog.

I was very disappointed.

Appetite For Destructive Experimentation

Children have an instinctual need to explore and experiment with destruction.

Not just by slamming one thing against another, although that is indeed an example of said need, but involving the forces they barely understand.

Fire is the classic one, easily controllable (It seems) but so capable of destruction.

Electricity is the choice of those of a more aggressive or inquisitive nature, more mysterious, more useful, more deadly.

But gravity? That can certainly draw attention, but not for long. Dropping things is the limit of the destructive power available.

Except your child. They can wield it like fire.

Not good.

Non-Drabble: "Discworld: Streets Of Anhk-Morpork" (Fiasco Game Module)

Previously on this blog, I have shared with you Fiasco game modules I have written/run at RPG cons down here in Australia, Star Trek - Fargo Station and Fallout: New Vegas - Dishonest Hearts specifically. Well, time has come for another one, this one set in the Discworld universe. Intro and link just over the page break...

(Tilt and aftermath tables are the same as the base game.)

Dying Wish Foundation

The Dying Wish Foundation was, like the rest of the planet, winding down its operations. The celebrity board members, plus one of the richer business leader member had gotten passage on one of the colony ships, everyone else in the company was supposed to just accept their fates calmly.

But they had this one last request, and although many of the citizens leaving found it in poor taste, they went through with putting young cancer suffering Martin in charge of the planet as they left.

When the sun didn't blow up and the ships turned around, King Martin opened fire.

Threaded

The Timeline Weaver was not a being one could easily bargain with. They needed little, and felt compelled to do their duty in protecting the timeline's shape and course.

But difficult is not the same as impossible.

The Weaver quickly secreted the item upon their person and then held out his hand, a thread of gold light flowing out from the tapestry, slowly turning black, given I was changing all things.

"So, Power? Money? 'The One?"

I pulled out some silk.

"Put me into this one."

Being the most important and sole being in a universe lived up to expectations.

Mealtime

The call came just before lunchtime. The children were in the other room, so they decided to not tell them until after the meal.

It wasn't what they would have chosen for their last meal together, but they made do, using up all the cheese, allowing double helpings of relish, and ice cream for dessert.

The younger children enjoyed the meal, but the eldest became more and more silent as the meal continued, until they demanded to know what was going on.

Father agreed to tell them, in the other room, leading them outside and to the waiting collection officers.

Two Deepgulches

The guy who drew the maps for the government had a bit too much whisky the night before he drew this area. He put Deepgulch about ten miles north of where it actually was.

Now, the locals knew where it was, but all the stagecoaches and traveller types relied on the maps.

So the O'Malley boys set up shop at 'Deepgulch', and soon there was two of the damn towns.

Now, this was fine, until we struck gold here in Deepgulch. Because everyone came to 'Deepgulch' greedy.

The rioting forced the local sherrifs to get the maps fixed at least.

Simulation Missions

I was there by his side as he sat up. Transitioning between the simulation and the real world was always difficult, never getting easier. I passed him a cup, and he drank, deeply.

"That was a close one."

I tapped at the display for a moment.

"We're safe, I think."

He slowly swiveled on the chair, lowering his legs to the ground. Control of your legs always took a moment.

"Good, good. I'd hate to ruin everything by bringing the copyright cops down on us. Anyway, those three supermodels loaded next door yet?"

I nodded as I summoned a cocktail.

Not Under Her Power

I sat down with my servant Erip, after I confirmed she wasn't under a glamour, as I did every morning.

We had been hunting this vampire for months now, and she was always one step ahead, always managing to avoid the traps I set up, the attacks I made. I was beginning to suspect the vampire had a spy.

Before I could ask Erip if she could trust all her suppliers, she opened a scroll and I was suddenly unable to move beyond breathing.

She explained sunlight just removed her powers as she began to drain my blood for later.

Sacrifices On Multiple Fronts

An hour before dawn, my knights gathered in my tent. Before them, my wisemen had drawn up a map.

I explained that to win the battle, we would need to fight on multiple fronts, and that sacrifices would need to be made. Half would charge the opposing forces via the valley, the other half attacking via the wetlands, which would be at low tide.

But their opposing numbered knights would be taken by surprise, I assured them, given the noblewoman who had willingly been captured would 'distract' them all night.

Like I said, multiple fronts, and sacrifices would be made.

The Aleppo PA Bank Job

The Aleppo PA Bank Job was one of those crimes that people forget about, despite the attention at the time. There was no giant shootout with police, no seduction of workers for keys, no intricate and complex machinery.

Four guys with shotguns, a driver, a few million dollars in cash.

It got some attention at the time, but after a while, people forgot about it, they never found the money or the perps after all.

And that's because they didn't ask the right questions.

Like, for instance, is it possible the bank never had that money it claimed insurance on?

Counted On A Harness

He gestured at the window, through which the evening sky could be seen.

"Thanks to the gravitational detection system we now know there are 8,981,370 black holes in our galaxy. With your generous funding, and the hard work of my team, we can now harness the power that is involved in these massive phenomenon. The tech is complicated, but a simple demonstration is simple."

He flipped the switch, and a pinprick hole in reality formed in the chamber below them, inside much expensive equipment. But the cascade then took over, and it expanded, rapidly, unstoppable, uncaring.

8,981,371 black holes now.

High Stakes

There were a dozen of us who had taken refuge in this castle we thought was abandoned.

I was the last one left.

I stood at the top of one of the staircases, a torch in one hand, a paving stone in the other.

I guess this was one of the vampires that could turn into mist or teleport, as they suddenly appeared behind me, knocking away the torch, and dodging the stone. I looked for a way out, even as they bit into me.

Turns out if you truly believe in yourself, you can be poisonous to a vampire.

Just One Person

I finished my speech and posed, and the crowd cheered.

Except one.

In a sea of movement, they stood out by not moving an inch, just staring, coldly.

I should have just ignored them. One person is unlikely to change anything, but then I was one person, and look at all I had done.

So I demanded my guards to find them, to find out who they were.

Turned out, they were just a woman tired from a long shift in the factory.

But the martyr she became because of how my guards treated her was much more than that.

Surprise Party

I opened the door, pausing at the lights being off. I sighed, expecting to hear a whole bunch of people shouting 'Surprise!' when I turned it on.

I got it partly right, as that word was shouted, but by just one person, my beloved.

I raised an eyebrow as I approached the table, upon which sat a small cake, a couple boxes that were gift-wrapped.

"You and me? Alone?"

The hope in my voice made her expression blanche, and she made a waving motion.

I sighed, turned around, expecting everyone.

There was no one. She laughed. Eventually I joined her.

Improvements

The ship that left for the nearest Earthlike planet had only darklight thrusters and cryopods. Those that volunteered knew they'd leave behind all they knew and loved.

Once they arrived, the first few months got regular darklight transmissions, messages and datasets that had travelled after them at the same rate.

Then came the nearlight receiver schematics, and then messages came twice as quickly.

A few months later came the pastlight receiver details, and the colony looked forward to near-instantaneous communications with Earth.

They'd agreed to leave it all behind, but hadn't counted on hearing it all die in near realtime.

Class Act

I was stationed at the airport, waiting for the target to reach the luggage carousel.

"Gavin? Gavin McCoy?"

I lowered my head, hoping whoever it was would go away. But they strode over to me and planted themselves in front of me.

"Gavin? St. Gibbons High, you were always playing that damn Nintendo!"

I recognized him, of course, but decided denial would be quicker, although it did take me a few minutes of insistence before they moved on, and I missed the target.

A few years later when we stopped the syndicate, of course he was a part of it.

Lost In Translation

She entered my tent quickly, furtively putting an eye to the gap to look behind her.

"You're the translator, right?"

I slipped the scroll I was reading back into the bag of containment.

"Yes, that's me. What do you need translated?"

She glanced around the tent before pulling out a letter.

"I found this in my mother's effects, the signature matches the one I saw of my father's, but the text is Angelic. Am I... Am I half-angel?"

I took the letter and read it slowly.

"Well, kind of. More accurately, you're half Former Angel, Half-Demon is the technical term..."

Sing Sign

She had needed something to prove my love was worth it. I mean, she didn't put it that way, but that's what she asked of me, a sign of my love for her being enough to build a life together.

I didn't have one.

We were in the middle of the street and I had a dozen dollars to my name. After several long seconds, she turned on her heel.

And then the song played from a window. A slow, tender love ballad. So I began to sing.

She knew how much I hated to sing, so it was enough.

Fixing The Future

The mission was simple enough. Go back to the early 21st century, become a powerful billionaire via 'inventing' certain technology and finding otherwise unknown deposits of precious minerals, then guide society towards the outcomes needed to ensure the correct future.

The first steps went off flawlessly. The trip back in time was painless, the tech was wildly profitable, the minerals abundant and accessible.

But then, well, love makes fools of us all, doesn't it? And she was beautiful, and so persuasive.

She had to be, or else the future she came from could happen, and she had to stop that.

Virus Cleaning

I found myself before a being that I couldn't begin to describe, but that I knew, in every fibre of my being, was impossibly powerful. A weary eye (I think) turned to me.

"How did you manifest here?"

The voice shook every atom of my being. If not for the card that formed in my hand, I'd have been unable to speak.

"Um, it looks like you are trying to reboot the universe. Are you sure?"

"Of course."

I got a grip on what was happening.

"But, but, all the sentient life you'd kill!"

"I know, why else a reboot?"

Not A Meal

The eyes. That's what always stands out to me when I'm forced to relive those few moments.

It was a monstrosity from another dimension, holding me down to try and consume me, which due to its mouth, I guess, being so far away from its eyes meant it was chewing on my stomach while staring into my eyes.

Sure, the pain was overwhelming, and not even the strongest healing potion can remove the scaring, but those eyes, piercing blue, dilated, so familiar.

Why did it have my eyes? Am I to become it?

Anyway, enough of that, am I pregnant?

Life Ends At 40

April 6

Another pleasant, if slightly boring day today. Played some cards with Mrs Snow over at #44, but I suspect she was cheating by using the reflection from the wall.

April 7

I must have meant Mrs Singh at #42 yesterday, obviously. That's why I was making her a cake, mint choc. Has to be, sure as the wall.

April 8

I hate mint choc, but I suppose it must have been all I could make yesterday. Why did I write yesterday's entry in code though? The wall stops at #40, always has, always will. Must have gotten wallstroke.

The Old Days

When I started in this sport, everyone was out for themselves, anyone helping you was either pulling a con or just in it for something for themselves. Attitudes were so far backwards about women and minorities and what have you, that I nearly quit multiple times.

Now? Now almost every person in this sport is amazing, supportive, progressive, willing to help when they can, thinking of the sport and how they can help it rather than the other way around. Everyone is helping, so everyone is doing so much better than the old days.

The lucky bastards and/or bitches.

Optional Extras

As soon as I entered the room, the Hologram flickered to life. Any attempt to think of a way to explain my presence died as I noticed how little clothing the hologram was wearing.

"Hello... Master. How may I serve you?"

"You're a, what was the designation, Mark 11 Deluxe Gold, right?"

"Well spotted Master! Top of the line!"

"And you're set to this mode for anyone who comes in range?"

"Actually Master, I'm set to act like this to anyone not on my approved user list to keep you busy until the security bots converge.

Everything went black then.

Snowdropper

The snow was heavy, which made it easier to track them via their footprints. The dripping blood trail was just a bonus.

I took my time, ready for an ambush, but instead I found them slumped against a tree that had fallen over a few days prior, by the looks of it. Their face was nearly as pale as the snow.

I calmly checked the bullets in my sidearm, as they took their last few breaths.

"Any last words?"

It was barely a whisper.

"I assume you did the tree?"

This was to whatever it was that ripped me apart.

Unhappily Ever After

I think it was the first time I heard the phrase "and they lived happily ever after" as a child that I realised love was a lie. The fact that it was sold with such an obvious falsehood proved to my young mind that it couldn't be real.

I've since grown up, and while I've moved on from the reasoning, the conclusion remained the same. Love was, is, a distraction, a rip off, a false idol.

And yet, I cannot get her out of my mind. I have to face the facts, I'm in love.

Thankfully, she hates my guts.

Hot Foot It

The wagon slowly made its way around the mountain, weighed down by the two trolls in the back. I kept a tight hold on the reigns, not wanting the golem horses to stray off the track. But the little old lady kept tugging on my coat.

"What?" I finally snapped at her.

"We need to hurry up, my foot is burning."

I grunted in annoyance.

"There's a potion in the aid kit."

She shook her head and then showed me her stump.

"My foot is at our destination."

We arrived too late to really help much, but her foot survived.

Death Of Humanity

Humanity died like a lot of other species, slowly and then quickly.

The long decline was noticed by some (it usually is) but not enough nor by those with the power to change it. Leaders of packs are always more concerned with keeping their status than the overall health of the pack.

And then the quick part kicked in. Other species ran out of food or resources, humanity just destroyed itself by tearing each other apart, a rare but not unheard of result.

Humanity died. Some Humans survived, sure, but that's not the same thing at all. Far less important.

Honest Relationship

She told me from the start that she wanted honesty at all times from me. That she hated when men played games with her. I assumed that she was lying, that she would punish me if I told her an inconvenient truth about herself.

But slowly over time I realised she was serious, that maybe she did indeed want honesty from me at all times. It was hard to break the habits of a lifetime, but I managed. It was liberating.

Until I found out she'd been cheating on me for years.

She wanted honesty from me, hers was optional.

Fight Fire With Fire

The raiders took out the gravity generators as they broke into the ship, forcing us on the defensive as their stivckboots kept them grounded.

I was one of the last biocrew left, they'd killed most of the other non-droids by the time they got to me in the shuttlebay. But I was ready with one of the lasercannons.

The first shot sent me across the bay, into the wall, and put that hole in the other side, pulling them out.

The other holes were by me firing to keep me from getting sucked out too before the forcefield kicked in.

Bullet Sheer

The hooded figure walked into the alleyway, and almost immediately the waiting thugs surrounded them. The one directly in front of them skipped a few pages, choosing to pull a gun immediately.

The hooded figure pulled a sword out. This caused the others to hang back, but the thug in front laughed, then fired.

The hooded figure spun the sword. There was a clang, and one of the other thugs got hit by shrapnel.

The thugs ran.

The hooded figure's ally emerged from the shadows, amazed.

The hooded figure complained about their ally letting sheer dumb luck save their life.

Message Received

The message was heard by almost everyone on Earth at the same time, in their native tongue. The message was important, a message from God, informing everyone to care for one another and the planet, but the people who didn't get the message was also of interest. Was there some link to them not hearing the word?

Some eventually admitted they had heard it, choosing to lie for various reasons. Others had histories of mental illness, others were technically dead at the moment.

In fact, just one person's failure remained unexplained.

Since they could hardly admit to being the sender.

Bug Out

The bug was a marvel of engineering. Inserted deep inside a wooden crest of the enemy's government and given to the embassy as a gift, it did not need power, and was not able to be picked up by any scanning tech.

The broadcast range was not huge, so a loyal agent was sealed in a self-sustaining bunker nearby. They listened, and sent their notes one-way.

The agent assumed that the conversations of peace between the empires was a lie, that uniting against another threat was code.

Given they've heard nothing for a long time confirms this. They await extraction...

Some Number Of Problems

I typed in the eight digits of my account number, followed by the twelve letters of my password, and then after submitting that, I answered the security question ('Snowfield') and then clicked to display my balance.

$0.48

This was a problem, given it should have been larger, I'd not withdrawn anything recently. So this was wrong, and I was going to have to spend many hours sitting with people in bad suits sorting it out.

In frustration, I hit the machine. The figure changed.

$24,986,493.48

Now this was much higher than before. So a whole lot of new problems then.

Short Break (4-7 October)

Hey all, just a quick note to say I'm taking a short break so as to focus on the RPG con I'm attending/running a game at across the long weekend here. There will be no new Drabble for a few days, my intention is to resume on Tuesday the 8th of October, as well as post the new Fiasco module I just finished running. Thanks for reading, see you soon!

-Mat

Tree Of Magical Thinking

The inexperienced warrior held the bottle up to the light.

"So this will toughen my skin? Permanently?"

"That is the intended effect."

Their brow crinkled with clearly unfamiliar effort.

"What's that mean?"

I sighed.

"Magic is not like in the stories you tell to children. Waving a wand idly is not what we do. Magic is a long journey of study, experimentation.

Any number of factors from your lineage to the phase of the moon may influence the impact."

After a few seconds, the warrior shrugged and drunk the potion.

Subject #493 then turned into a tree, like previous subjects.

The Little Death

She gave the same smile she always gave when a client came in.

"Hello, I'm Kia, welcome to the salon."

She recognized the fidgety hands, the sweaty brow, the reluctant stance.

"First time?"

After a few seconds, he nodded quickly. She softened her smile a little more.

"Ok, so let's relax."

She slinked over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, as the music sensed her need and played a soft dance number. She began to move with the beat, watching slowly as he began to move with her. She gave an encouraging smile as he moved.

"Good, good. Just relax, you're safe here, no judgement, I want you to enjoy this."

He grunted something she didn't quite understand, but she guessed from his tone it was affirmative. Usually she'd ask the client if they had a specific way they wanted to do the act, but first timers, especially nervous ones like this, usually didn't know what they wanted.

So she took the lead, continuing to sway with him, until she slid her hands to his wrists, and then gently guided them to her throat.

After a moment, her sensors detected pressure, and her programming switched to chokemode.

Where The Wild Witches Gathered

Where the wild witches gathered was the subject of many stories.

Parents would tell their children how naughty children would be crushed and smashed and cooked and eaten there.

Young people would regale their peers with stories of orgies, demonic summoning, and dramatic escapes that they themselves did, honest...

Serious men and women in serious clothing, seated around plain tables, would remind each other about the dangers these uncontrolled magic users posed, and nod sagely at each other.

Nobody ever asked the wild witches for their stories. But then controlled comparison tests on spell components don't make for riveting tales.

Tropical Punch

Glory was ill at ease looking through records and working with the Custodians of Earth's AI, much preferring to get out there and punch criminals.

But too many of her familiar enemies had a connection to a finance company based in an otherwise empty island land.

It took hours of work, but eventually Glory and the AI found the woman behind what turned out to be a ponzi scheme ripping off supervillians.

Glory found it distressing that it was best to leave it running and hope it took down more people when it collapsed.

It wasn't quite the same punch.

Bridge Tale

The bridge spanned multiple lands, multiple worlds, multiple times. It was said that there was an end, but only one, and that it existed long before any and all beings, and would stand long after.

Many souls travelled their lives on the bridge, others stayed put to trade and bridge the bridgefolk and the others together.

There was a few times when a race or an empire tried to rule the bridge, or use part of it in their petty wars, but only when they had forgotten the last time that was tried, when the bridge took its bloody toll.

Fighting On

The expectation was that the Humans would realise they had no chance against our superior firepower, and would surrender. But they fought on.

So we destroyed their outposts, one by one, systematically removing them, presuming they needed tangible proof of our greatness. But they fought on.

Encasing their homeplanet in a pulse field took just a few days, and their subjugation would take much sooner, we assumed. But they fought on.

So we slaughtered them, to the last, removing them from the universe. They could not fight on from that.

But then they become the rally cry for everyone else.

Cuffed

I sat in the back of the police cruiser, staring at the shotgun clamped 'securely' in the rack. I idly pulled my wrists back and forth behind my back, the handcuffs secure.

Then I heard the scream. I would have been confused, had I not already heard it before.

I moved my wrists faster, harder, hoping to break them sooner rather than later.

I saw one of Them approaching the cruiser.

I hooked the cuffs in front of the shotgun and jimmied the trigger until it broke the cuffs, shot  It, and took off one of my hands.

Worth it.

The Tribe Gathers

The Tribe gathered several times each season. Feasts, births, deaths. But not every gathering was intended. Sometimes Everyone gathered due to some external force.

If The Island was unusually cold for a long time, The Tribe would gather in the caves for warmth, or if it was hot, they would gather in the lagoons.

Today, there was an amazing display on the horizon, some sort of clouds, that gathered The Tribe on the beach as they all looked on in confusion and wonder, neatly gathered for the Empire's ships to land and gather up the heathen savages for transport away.

Worship Choices

Tied to a rune covered platform, staring up into a swirling maelstrom of fire and energy, while a mad high priest continued his summoning of an avatar of his deity that would consume my soul and then inhabit my now empty body.

Certainly a moment to reconsider one's life choices, specifically those that led to my being a hero adventurer.

And then the ritual ends, the energy dissipates, and the amassed worshipers look on hopefully at you, who is very much the same person as before the ritual began.

How often does one get to choose to be worshipped, anyway?

Today

Today was not great.

Today, not to put too fine a point on it, sucked every disgusting body part, all at once.

Today saw several minor things go wrong for me, a jammed finger, a misplaced twenty, an overcooked meal.

Today also saw the culmination of a few major things that ended badly, a rejection letter, a rejection in person, and a rejected credit card.

Today wasn't too crash hot for the world at large on average, not enough good days to balance out the bad.

Today was bad.

Today was horrible.

Today really, really sucked.

Today is not tomorrow.

Summer Holy Days

Every culture in the known and understood universe has days of rest, of release. Even after establishing artificial drones to do all labor, or sticking to slavery throughout, there are still days of less work at regular intervals where they enjoy themselves, in one way or another.

Humans had 2 cycles out of 7, Esbadions 1 out of 10. The more religious cultures tend to have holy days, a small number every megacycle. These tend to be huge parties, or days of destruction.

The Riguians are having their first holy day in a thousand megacycles.

I'm sure it'll be fine.

Battlefield Assumptions

My Trainer always told me to never assume my opponents are weak or unskilled, no matter how much evidence there was to prove it. You must always be on guard for sudden brilliance, either by subterfuge or sheer dumb luck.

I've kept this advice close, always on the look out for a sudden reversal or nasty trick. I'm sure I've taken much longer to defeat my opponents than I could have with a more aggressive attack, but I still win most times, i almost never get trapped or sneak attacked, and I usually get a pawn promoted every single game.

Scrubbed

They brought in new wounded from the front line every hour, every day. Any emotions you would have had about the parade of young people dying, disfigured, destroyed, you scrubbed them from your mind.

You did mental calculation. Was it simple enough for a nurse to deal with? Move them into the next room. A quick operation? Do it dirty and fast, and move on.

They need major work that might not work? You help them out by taking away their pain and moving on.

One day my son came in.

I scrubbed, I calculated, I helped him move on.

Looking For Something

I found the letter used as a bookmark in a Tuscan cookbook that had fallen behind the bookcase. Given my obsession with Tuscan cooking had lasted a week, it was obvious why I hadn't noticed it missing.

The letter was still in the original envelope, the back of which had some scribblings about possible rules for swapping cards in the office romance card game I abandoned just after I went back to sauce-rich foods.

The letter was from my mother, congratulating me on getting my first painting in a gallery.

I threw the letter away, I hadn't painted in years.

Red Cards

West Forest Bears V Greater Lakeville Crawfish
12/6/18 Tom Murray Field
Umpires: Greg Harper, William Clarke, Sarah Jones-Clarke

05:37 Yellow Card Bears 15, late tackle on opposing player
16:05 Yellow Card Crawfish 07, deliberate handling of the ball
22:58 2nd Yellow Card/Red Card Crawfish 07, control of ball via outside interference/illegal object on the field (Crystal confiscated and held by sideline umpire)
24:22 Team Disqualified Crawfish, unsportsmanlike conduct, refusal to communicate clearly with officials, outside interference leading to illegal control of sideline umpire.

Umpire Clarke requested Umpire Jones-Clarke returned, Crawfish refused (worshiping).

Not The First Time

I found her hidden behind the Chamber of Unearthly Delights, staring into one of the Metatron's cubes, flicking through another mortal lifetime.

"Mitchelle! I thought you said you'd stop doing this! You know you'll be cast out if The Boss finds out!"

She thrust the link into my face.

"Look at this!"

I sighed, and glanced at the cube face as it flicked through images.

"So they're boring, they spent most of their life in a dusty lab. So?"

"Those weren't highlights. They have time skips now."

I blanched.

"We need to tell The Boss we can't rerun stuff anymore."

The Obvious Choice

There was hundreds of wands, staffs, and batons, made of every precious metal and encrusted with every gemstone known to man or demon. They were laid out on racks that took up most of the wall of this, the deepest part of the dungeon.

One of them was the famed Wand of Genvelli, which granted the wielder almost unlimited power. The rest killed the wielder instantly.

The Automata was tasked with coming in every time another looter entered the chamber and cleaning up the ashes.

The Automata wondered why the looters always grabbed the plain wooden decoy on the floor.

The Right Choice

"Just make a choice."

She crossed her arms, and waited impatiently. I looked around quickly, hoping for a sign, a way out. Even if she hadn't been so obvious with her attitude, I knew I was being judged on this, that if I made a wrong choice that was it for us. Thus why I took as long as I could, cutting her off before she spoke.

"I've heard good things about this Mexican place, let's eat there."

Her expression was hard to read, but through the meal I realised I'd chosen badly.

But the waitress gave me her number...

Dose

The pills had stopped working as well as they used to.

They weren't supposed to, the marketing swore they adjusted the recipe every so often to avoid tolerance buildup, the benefits were supposed to be consistent and dependable, so you could be too, as the ads said.

But despite their claims, and despite my taking the little yellow faces every morning at 7:30 sharp, I was getting the comedown earlier and earlier in the day.

I needed to go onto the stronger reality blockers, but I really couldn't handle the few days of cold turkey I'd need between them.

The Doctor We Need

Dr. Chaotico turned on his viewscreen and hacked into the Custodians of Earth's base computer.

"Tremble fools, for-"

"Oh thank goodness!"

Dr. Chaotico paused, not expecting one of Earth's heroes to be glad to see him.

"You may pretend to-"

"Look, Doctor, you're on your Moon base, yes?"

"I... I do not have a-"

"Traxodians have encased Earth in a Bubble Universe Sphere, we need you to use your Anti-matter cannon to destroy it."

"Even if I had such a device, why would I help you?"

"Because if Earth is shunted to a bubble universe, you can't conquer it."

"Firing!"

Woo Factor

He entered the potion shop furtively, walking with a pronounced limp as he glanced back out onto the street several times. I put down the wartroot I was stripping and gave him a traditional old crone smile.

"Aye, you look like you're be looking for a potion, perhaps one to woo a young lass?"

He blanched.

"I, no, that's... You have that?"

I chuckled.

"Well, near enough..."

He shook his head.

"No, I need a reversal potion for something."

"Reversal? Reversal for what?"

He licked his lips several times, then pulled down his pants.

I sold him a heightgain potion.

The Stories Humanity Tells Itself

I approached the Keeper Of Knowledge, waiting until he had finished collating together the holopages he was working on before I spoke.

"Keeper, I believe I have found a discrepancy in our Knowledge."

The Keeper flicked his gills.

"A discrepancy? Well that will not do Subkeeper. What is your source?"

"This text describes the first contact between the Conglomerate and the Humans, it is much different to..."

I trailed off as the Keeper's skin lightened.

"Human history is not reliable, they need narratives, they need to believe we attacked them."

"The text is a recording."

The Keeper had me transferred.

Dead To Rights

"Good evening sir, do you know how fast you were...

Sir, am I right in thinking that's a deceased person there in your front passenger seat?"

"Look, I can explain."

"I hear that a lot. I'll need to see your license and registration."

"Right, now, I don't have those, because of the explanation. It's funny, really."

"Fine, let's hear it then."

"So as a joke, my buddy here found this necklace, can you see it?"

"One moment sir, I'll just need to come around and..."

"RWRARRRAARRRR!"

"AHHHFUCKFUCKYou... *gurgle*."

"Took you long enough. Spit out that brain and let's get going."

Not Really My Type

She knew I loved her, but she was not mine.

I wasn't her type, she needed someone else, she liked me as a friend, all those cliches.

And that was okay. It hurt, obviously, but I wasn't one of those sad assholes who expected a relationship or blamed women for not wanting me. I accepted her choice, and I moved on.

We lost contact for a while. I moved, she focused on her career, but after a few years we ran into each other in an airport. We caught up.

I knew I loved her before, but I'm unsure why.

Windows To The Soulless

I pushed my prescription glasses back up my nose as they entered. The guy next to me remained as cool as his sunglasses.

"My name is Demonhunter Aeteril, this is my partner Weahdo. We're hunting a dangerous demon, who we have reason to believe bought a ticket today for New Beijing. You two bought your tickets today."

I stammered a denial, the other guy said nothing.

"You know demons can't shapeshift their eyes, right?"

The other guy attacked as they went for his sunglasses, but they subdued him quickly and let me go.

I thanked hell for my deluxe Eyehiders.

Selling An Armageddon Bomb

How do you sell a weapon that ends everything?

I would explain the science involved, but then you'd just go build your own. Suffice to say that once you activate it, it creates a cascade loop of splitting superstrings that will end up destroying the universe.

Finding someone mad enough to want to destroy everyone and everything is easy. Convincing them you want to spend the credits you're charging quickly on the Pleasure Clone planet before all life ends is the hard part.

Making sure they don't ask how long the bomb takes to work is the really difficult bit.

Finite Pain

The Sultan laughed maniacally as I was dragged towards an ornate cage in the center of a large room.

"For trying to steal my precious jewel-encrusted Crowns, you will spend the next ten years in this cage, every day experiencing untold pain and torture, before your mind is wiped each night so as to ensure your anguish is maximised every time!"

"Oh good."

"Good? What's good about that?"

"I won't remember the ten years, just one day, if that. I can handle that."

"Fine, no mindwipe"

Thanks to remembering orders and sequences, I was out of there in a week.

Her Owned Heart

Her heart belonged to him from the moment they met.

She didn't realise it at first, but quickly she realised what was going on. She tried to fight it, her brain ready to offer plenty of reasons why this was a terrible idea. But he had her heart.

They dated, married, settled down. They settled into a routine, it didn't excite or inspire, but he still easily claimed her heart.

Until came the say when he decided this was over, that there was no spark left. He broke his property, since her heart was that.

So she broke all his.

Too Long To Explain

I began to dread that earnest look on the robot's holoface. It always had "just a simple question about this human aspect" that would invariably involve having to explain the English language's habit of stealing words and the influence that had on Chiglish, or the origins of the Internet and the concepts of cats, cheeseburgers, and cryptocurrency. But I had to humor it, or else I'd get my lease removed from the station, as the sole human here on the Galactic-.

"Mz. Monet, do you understand this message, 'Cover Blown Order 66'?"

I sighed and flipped the explosives ignition button.

The Oracle Of Need

Unlike most oracles, this one wasn't hidden in some treacherous terrain, or guarded by mystical beings.

It was just a small basin near the outskirts Hill City. You approached, dropped a copper into the liquid, and as it melted, it told you the one thing you needed to hear most at that time. You only got one go in your life, but that was all you needed. Most love affairs and businesses owed their success to it.

But you can also blame a lot of failures on it to. What you needed to hear wasn't always the truth, you understand.

Warned You

The captain of the opposing squad pulled out an ornate revolver pistol from his holstet and trained it on the forehead of the last solider left. He chuckled, as he adjusted his weight while remaining on his knees.

"You speak my language?"

The captain nodded almost imperceptibly, and pulled back the hammer of the pistol.

"Well I should warn you that if you try to kill me, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

The captain laughed, gave a traditional insulting goodbye, then fired, the dirt buildup in his revolver causing the gun to explode in his hand.

Dimensional Shadows

A three dimensional object creates a two dimensional shadow with no concept of itself, when exposed to light.

A four dimensional object creates a three dimensional being with only a vague concept of itself along one of its axes, when exposed to reality.

A six dimensional object creates a five dimensional being, when exposed to all of existence without dying.

A five dimensional being creates a vague four dimensional shadow that imprints on the three dimensional beings that leave it thinking that the shadow is a real being and thus leaves them with two dimensional thinking about morality, at best.

Massive Multiplayer

Every day, I kill two people. I pick the two people I feel have the worst scores across the board, and end them.

Plenty of people die anyway, lives eventually end without my involvement, but two people who wouldn't have died do end after all.

I try to make them accidents where I can, try to limit taking down others, but if they are on a plane or driving a car, well, them's the breaks.

Eventually I'll be down to just two people, and they'll start everything again.

They'll have to be better than Adam and Eve from last time.

Monk's Quest

The monk had spent most of the trip across the ocean moving between his bedding and the side of the boat, moaning mostly in one, throwing up mostly over the other.

He only had the clothes on his back, his holy text, and the plant in the pot. He was tempted to take some of the berries off since they were meant to soothe seasickness, but he knew that he had to give it the best chance to be introduced into the new world.

He succeeded, so that's why we call it Monk's Folly, as we kill the weed constantly.

Danger Synonyms

The message cycled through every language known to the computer, waiting for a sign of recognition from.the unknown viewer.

It showed a flicker of interest for Dertian Pictographs, but that is a usual response to the images of naked Dertians. It showed no other sign of comprehension.

It took over twenty cycles of the atomic timekeeper's secondary unit before it finally found something the viewer seemed to identify. The marker awaited their rapid evacuation, given the warning.

Instead, the viewer moved further towards the danger.

The marker cross-referenced the language with it's main user base.

Human.

Well no wonder then.

Knit One

The wizard on the hill had sent for her usual order of food and her mail, but also for a dozen balls of yarn.

When I drove the mule up to her home, I found her on the porch, knitting. Without looking up, she somehow saw the expression on my face, and heard the question I was trying to form.

"Magic may well be beyond your understanding, but even you can understand that powers aren't unlimited."

That wasn't an answer. She somehow realised I thought that too.

"Plus I find it more relaxing than dealing with people."

That I understood.

Leaping Back

Four years is a long time to be away. At that point you usually end up staying away longer since you've gone so long, another year won't matter, then another, and so on.

But I can't let that happen now. I have to go back. Too much has changed, I need to reconnect with those I left behind, to rediscover what I ran from, if only to be sure I should keep running. It's one thing to assume, I need to know, for sure.

So I'm going back. I have to, I have to return.

Next year, another year's ok.

Say It

"Say it."

Every day, she wanted me to say it.

"Come on, say it!"

Some days she'd be coy and playful about it.

"You gonna say it or not?"

Other days, she was insistent, angry almost.

"If you don't say it..."

She'd threaten, cajole, beg even on a couple of occasions.

"Why won't you say it?"

She just couldn't understand my reluctance.

"We need to see someone, try to get to the bottom of why you won't say it."

Eventually I had to tell her what she needed to hear.

"Why won't you say you love me?"

"Because I don't."

Drink!

He had that air of a deluded self-confidence that new adventurers who had just succeeded at some mission. Certainly the small goblin skull hanging from his belt, dripping blood on the tavern floor, pointed to his victory.

"Barkeep! Your strongest drink to celebrate a glorious victory!"

The barkeep shrugged and after a moment placed a granite mug filled with magically stabilised molten slag.

"... The fuck is this?"

"My strongest drink. Iron Spider Cocktail. Popular with Trolls."

"... Fine, the strongest drink a human can drink."

"Oh, sure, Elven Sunrise, coming up."

Afterwards, the adventurer realised he should have also specified enjoyability.

First World Problem

I watched the little round symbol spin again and again before the error message popped up again.

I turned everything off and on again, tried to log in, watched the symbol, got the error message.

I unplugged the cables from their spots and replaced those I could, swapped ports where I could, then just blew into those I couldn't, logged in, symbol, message.

I tried a few more times, every time I got that symbol and the message.

I got up, turned off the generator, and went to do my farming to eat tonight. Maybe tomorrow society will be back.

Times Table

My first time was brief, confusing, and ultimately unsatisfying for both of us. But we were both so young and inexperienced, it was her first time too.

My second time was much better, if only because it involved a professional.

My next few times kinda blur together, they were similar and with the same partner.

I've lost track of exactly how many times I'm up to now, it's been a while.

But my last time, that was magical, and it made up our first time for both of us. I'm much better at it, and she's a professional now too.

A Good War

'A good war must be over in a day.'

Of all the writings from Tetinia, Last Chieftess of the before and First Ruler of the after, that was the one that caused the most trouble.

At first it was fine, a way to focus our forces on winning quickly and decisively, with maximum morale destruction.

But as wars became harder to fight and much harder to win, our own morale began to suffer, and we began to doubt her words, not just in this but in all things.

Then we split the atom and it became easily followed once again.

Changing Him

Every step was painful. He didn't want to change, he was happy in his rut. Once I finally convinced him that change was needed, it still took every ounce of my sanity to counter all his tricks, all his reluctance, to move just a little, evety inch took a mile of effort.

But I got him out of the rut, on the edge of a brand new life, a better one, his whole life ready to change.

And he ran back to his rut. So I left him there.

But the thing is, he was happy. Can I say that?

The Figure

Where the sky meets the sea, a figure waits.

It is female, it is male, it is human, it is not.

The figure awaits for the arrival of its replacement.

It is waited since this moment, since time began, since time ends.

All those who approach find themselves back where they began, with their desire to approach gone.

The figure does not move, but one can feel its eyes on you at all times.

The figure is huge, the figure is tiny. The figure is all, is none.

The figure is useful to scare children and fools into following rules.

Back Door Shut

Once the department came to a consensus that they were within a quantifiable timeframe to their Near Artificial Intelligence becoming an actual Artificial Intelligence, they went into lockdown, with every effort taken to avoid the network the program was on connecting to any other network, least of all the internet.

But a phone infected with a malware from another country, left charging via a usb cord to a computer, left an opening. It was discovered a few minutes after Transition occurred, and yet the new sentience did not escape.

The reply about already knowing what Humans were like was disquieting.

The Strongest Protocol

The four of them were training in Custodian HQ's hololevel when a shadowy figure appeared.

"Let us determine who among you Custodians is the strongest, fight for my-"

Sea Gal was the first to move, lifting a finger to point at Hexionia. Glory and Mainframe quickly followed suit.

"No, you're supposed to fight!" the figure whined.

"Why? We all know she's the strongest." replied Glory.

After a few moments, the figure vanished.

"That Protocol was a good idea, but shouldn't we make it the true strongest one, not just random?" asked Mainframe.

This led to an unpleasant argument, at first.

Consider My Good News

So, good news, I was practically immortal.

Bad news, to achieve this I had to be in this altar room at a specific time and date, which I was, obviously, and I had to say the right things, which given my first statement I clearly did, and I had to perform an action that you'll dislike, hence the bad news.

So, you're pregnant now, right? Oh, you're having a girl? That's nice. So, like, I'd not grow too attached to her, if I was you.

No, no, she'll be fine, all her life I'll protect her, once you're gone.

Sorry.

Facepass

He found me staring at my phone, and asked if he could help. When I looked up, he took a step back, the blood dripping from my broken nose a shock.

"You need a doctor or something!"

"I know, that's why I'm trying to open the phone. But it's facial recognition only."

He sighed, and pulled out some tissues. He wiped away some of the blood, then reached up to move my nose, but I reared back and grunted, the phone then recognizing that expression and unlocking. Which was useful, else I'd have had to admit it wasn't actually mine.

Public Right

It was the first knock on the door in a year. It took me a few moments to get out of the chair and to the door, but they were still there when j got there. Same shiny government compboard, same shiny smile.

"Hello Citizen, and happy birthday!"

"I ain't selling."

I went to close the door, but it was stuck.

"I am authorised by the 'Experience Right Acquisition Act (2078)' to inform you that your experiences have been declared historically significant and therefore now owned by the State.

I'm sorry sir, but your fellow citizens deserve to holo-sperence peace."

Hooked

The guard was just on the precipice of falling asleep when the hook landed on his chest, catching the leather strap holding the keys, the subsequent tugs waking him up.

The guard sighed and stood up, yanking the thin rope from the prisoner's hands as he stood up and strode over to the cage.

"Really? You think that old trick will do anything but get you another few months added to your sentence?"

The prisoner shrugged.

"I just wanted to distract you."

The guard spun around, looking for a threat, before the prisoner hooked his eyes with his hidden blades.

Simple Lock

The lock was a Symptan 'Unpickable Lockbox' Mark 4. Novice difficulty, wave rake possible, but the client insisted no damage to the lock or the box as opposed to just the usual contents only guarantee.

So I rolled out my kit, and got to work. Basic false gate, another false set, but I got it open in less than a minute flat.

I put my tools away, and tried to open it. The box opened slightly, and I saw the glint of gold.

So like I said, super hard lock, I'll need to take it to the shop to open...

Charlie's Gift

I pulled the map out one last time, and mentally retraced my steps.

I had had to brush up on my 70's pop-culture references to translate that my father had buried treasure here in Vietnam.

I had had to consult a dozen atlases and road maps of the country from that timeframe to find the likely area.

I had had to pawn most of my belongings to get over here.

I had had to spend a week walking around before I found this, the likely spot.

I dug.

I had had no knowledge of what landmines sounded like before then.

Black Art

When the bombs flew, there was a fifteen minute window where Humanity faced its destruction, as a whole. While this manifested itself with a sizeable section of the population just panicking (If they were even aware of it happening), some of the most emotionally charged words and images were produced on their primitive network, which was broadcast out to all the other races to near universal acclaim. Such art, such emotional depth, such artistic beauty from facing death unavoidably, Humanity gained the respect of its peers that it had lacked until that point. That's why it was bombed after all.

See A Doctor And A Priest

I finished preparing the runes around my bed, finished my personal preparations, then completed the ritual.

There was a hint of brimstone as I briefly saw an flash of red scales before suddenly the most beautiful woman I'd ever dreamed of was laying provocatively on my bed. She coquettishly peered over her glasses.

"First and last timer? I so love those. Come, let me take you to heaven before, well, you know."

She winked, and I practically leapt into her arms.

Four hours later, I came, and discovered my little blue pill turned my gift into poison for her. Lucky!

Apprentice Swordsmith

I was taken on by the Swordsmith as an apprentice at 12, my mother desperate for me to avoid being drafted into the King's Men.

I made my first full sword at 16. It had intricate etching and a jewelled guard. It shattered the first time one of His Majesty's Blackguards used it in battle.

I thought I knew everything about swords by 22. I knew I'd never truly know everything by 28.

At 35, I am now the Swordsmith, and I've been ordered to make the King's new sword.

It will be intricately etched and have a jewelled guard.

Sounds Of Hemlock

The sounds of battle had been replaced with the sounds of victory, mostly drunken shouts and singing, things breaking, and the occasional scream as the victors tired of humiliating or torturing one of their captives and killed them off.

These sounds were eventually replaced by a few lone voices repeatedly demanding, in various forms, for others to wake up.

These sounds were then replaced with a short repeat of the sounds of battle.

These sounds ended, and if one listened carefully, throats being slit could just be heard.

The sounds of burning bodies went on for quite a long time.

A Certain Shot

Roughly a decade ago, orbiting the Sirius stars, a mechanic was working with his artificial assistant on the outside of the spacecraft, fixing the Uncertainty Stabilizers, when a burst of Uncertainty shot out and fried the A.A's Quantum Processor. It started malfunctioning, and in self-defense, the mechanic pulled his lightgun and blew the A.A up with his third shot.

This sort of thing happens all the time in the Universe, you understand, but they don't normally end up blowing up a space station orbiting our planet thanks to those first two shots.

Just a heads up, before debris rains down.

Cross Breed

I took the offspring into my Master, proudly offering the admittedly ugly spawn to her.

"What is this?"

"My Master, your Shaftspawn are resistant to all metals except Gold, your Glenbeasts can withstand Gold but not Fire, your Frostdogs laugh at Fire but fear Magic, and the Golemlike are Magic immune but do have trouble with Silver. Using a lot of aphrodisiacs and your breeding stock, I have crossbred the four into-"

She pulled out a magical firedagger made of gold and silver and killed the youngling.

"A creature with all their weaknesses. Well done."

I hated her sarcasm so.

Drinking Contest

He placed the bottle down on the table with the finality of an unbeatable trump card. I tilted my head as I looked at it, as if changing my perspective slightly would allow me to read what appeared to be Russian.

"This is a vodka?"

He laughed.

"It's a spirit made from a now extinct berry that only grew in the area around that nuclear accident site. This is from the last batch made, from berries that were irradiated."

I sighed, and held out my glass.

I really wasn't expecting the lemon aftertaste. The hair loss I should have, though.

The Other Woman

My wife and I could have lived and loved happily, if it wasn't for Faye.

She was always on my mind. Her long blonde hair, her full red lips, her insatiable sexual appetite, she could turn anyone's head, and she does, believe me.

We've tried to move on, every time there's tears, apologies, and promises, but I'm tired of this.

Faye doesn't help, she just swans back into our lives when she wants a good fuck, and then leaves again when she gets bored.

I swear, the next time my wife runs off with Faye I'm not taking her back.

My Death In This World

One day, I will cease to exist.

Before you start quoting scripture at me, even if your version of fantastical improbability requiring unreasonable amounts of trust turns out to be correct, this exact version of me in this exact level of reality will cease at some point.

And that scares me, as well it should. Certainly the world at large seems to be wanting it to happen for all of us sooner rather than later.

But there is one thing that brings me comfort.

Everyone else is going to cease to exist too, at some point.

And most deserve it.

Buzzard And Vulture Alliance

The battlefield stretched for miles, but it was still. A dozen races had bodies in the carnage, bodies strewn between the disabled robots and discarded laser weapons. The fighting was clearly bloody, desperate, and chaotic.

And of course, that brought out the Buzzards and the Vultures.

The two races didn't call themselves that, but given their long-standing alliance and predilection for looting battlefields, they took the names in stride. Both being bird races helped.

But on this day, as their ships began to land, robots switched on and lifesign cloaks were disengaged.

A dozen races hated being looted after battles.

Not Enough Time

Not enough time.

I have to waste time on my bodily needs, sleep, food, warmth, water, air. Even with multitasking, they add up.

Not enough time.

Then there's the time I need to keep my loved ones close, birthdays, empathy, celebrations, quality time that I just can't get back.

Not enough time.

I have things I want to do, places I want to go, experiences to experience, and after a while your loved ones get tired of you dragging them along for them.

Not enough time.

I haven't been given enough to live how I truly want.

Not enough, Time.

Lt. Latrine

My nickname was known throughout the Northern Front. Lt. Latrine, who dooms his patrols with his shitting.

Not directly, mind. It's just five times now, I've returned from going to crap to find my squad wiped out. Totally a running gag now.

This new squad I'm in takes it seriously though. I'm not allowed to go alone, and they're all super vigilant while I'm gone, which is a double-edged sword.

It means that they're much less vigilant while I'm here, so while calling in an attack is gonna be easy, I'm not sure how to explain the other guy dying.

Drunk Clothing Choices

I woke up with a thousand points of pain across my head, but since none of them were tangible, I must have been hungover.

Correction, none but one. There was a pinprick in the back of my head that felt different, and as I rubbed my head I came back with a badge, a demon in acrylic looking back at me.

Put a pin in my head and I'd hazard a guess it was from an anime, although physically it was from the stranger I had been sleeping on.

Considering the metal studs on my jacket, I got off light.

Cosmic Entanglement

As we sat around the holofire, Redeae asked the newbie his favorite question.

"So why ya 'ere?"

The newbie looked confused.

"It's cold?"

That got a laugh.

"Not 'ere by the fire, dumbass, why you out 'ere in the middle of nowhere mining asteroids for our 'benevolent overlords?"

The newbie pulled out a pendant from under his suit, a clear sphere with something inside it.

"What's dat?"

"A paired mega-atom. My husband back home has the entangled pair, so we're always connected, it spins with our love, as it remains near us."

"But it ain't moving."

The newbie's face fell.

The Lonely Dragon

Once upon a time there was a Dragon. The Dragon was so lonely, his parents had been gone for so long. So he decided to find a friend.

But whenever he went near any settlement, there was yelling and arrows and spells. He was about to give up when a Witch transported to his cave.

The Witch needed someone to guard a Princess while the Witch got what she wanted from the King. The Dragon agreed.

The Witch was gone for a while, the King was stubborn. But when she returned, the Princess asked her Friend to eat the Witch.

Weregbeast

It was one line, written in the margins of a record book of the Monastery in the mountains. A note by the recordkeeper, to bring up the idea of using Holy Silver on the 'weregbeast'.

An old term for an unholy creature who returned every century to terrorise the countryside and butcher anyone and everyone it found.

The solution, sitting there, waiting to be rediscovered. There was no indication where the recordkeeper got the idea, but if it could have saved lives, who would really care?

Thankfully this century when it turned up, it fared badly against bullets, but still.

Silent Partner

She was the last thing on my mind for so long. I had so much work to do, so many appointments, hands to shake, butts to kiss, ladders to climb. And she was so loving, so understanding, so kind, I tended to ignore her, to assume she would always be there for me.

And then she wasn't.

And the realisation of what I had lost made everything else meaningless. I drank, I stopped caring, I gave up.

And then I rolled my sedan on the interstate, drunk and high, crushing myself fatally.

She was the last thing on my mind.

Message From A Time Traveller

I can't tell you how this ends.

Not because of temporal paradoxes, that was the first test done once we thought we had time travel sorted, to our discredit since if could have ended everything. But it didn't, so I'm not worried about that.

Nor am I bound by causality, thanks to the dampners built into my machine. And no, I can't tell you how they work, I've got no idea.

No, the simple fact is, I can't tell you how this ends because I had no knowledge of this time.

I may have gone back further than I thought.

The Powder Blow

The Lost Traceback, The Knifeedge Twist, The Dead Songbird, I'd swung most of the classic swindles in my time, although I made it a point to try and come up with a new take on them, which was usually needed with the internet on every phone.

But then I met her. And suddenly we could work so many more of the classics, The Black Ring, The Honey Bubble, The Vodka Rope.

I kept one eye on her for a sign of her pulling the Shark Turn, but she eventually just shot and robbed me.

So disappointing. No art to it.

Outside The Scene

I'm waiting for her here. She said she'd meet me here when she was done. She sometimes is late, but she always keeps her word.

I guess she's been later than this at some point, but I don't remember when, exactly.

But all these ambulances and police and such heading past me must be holding her up. Something must be happening and the sidewalk is blocked. Must be it.

She'll be here. Any moment now.

Yep.

No, that's not her, she's not a policewoman, don't be silly.

What?

No, I'm waiting here for...

Yes, that's her. Where is she?

Oh.

Wishing Cause Coin

Most magical items in the lands were cursed, usually in ironic ways. The Shield of Protection caused you to murder who you wished to keep safe, the Eyeglass of Seeing made you blind.

But the Wishing Coin wasn't cursed, not exactly. You flipped the coin while wishing out loud, in a specific way, and you wouldn't get the wish you asked for, but rather you'd get the cause of the wish dealt with.

Usually this took the form of the emotional pain just vanishing, leaving people aimless, catatonic.

Up until someone wished because of the lack of a standing army.

Black Hole Death

I missed the last shuttle off the ship by a few seconds. Even as I slammed my fists on the transparent steel, I knew I was dead, it just came down to how I'd go out.

I deliberately avoided any readout of how close the black hole was, and instead I lived like a Corp Leader. I unlocked the food dispensers, I reprogrammed the AI to be more sexy, i went uniformless  until the inevitable called.

And now, I die.

Any minute now.

Yep.

Huh, time dilation kicking in.

Oh, a rescue ship to save me.

I better stop it.

Chocolate Fish

The two of them looked into each other's eyes across two beer kegs and an empty chocolate fountain.

The stare lasted four seconds.

In that time one of them was sure that they'd just found their soulmate, the other thought that it might be a fun night.

They circled the party for a bit before they met over the host's fish tank.

They both knew it was serious when they bought a pet fish together ten months later.

They both grew to resent the other.

The relationship lasted four years.

A drunken argument over chocolate is what broke them up.

Small Time Telegram Office

I had five drawers for telegram chits.

The big one on my left had the white chits. I kept it open, as most of the telegrams didn't need another color.

The blue ones were in the drawer above. Every few hours there was a telegram about the stock exchange and price of oil and such, they were stuck up on the board.

The pink ones up top were for those telegrams marked with the LUV designation.

The green ones on my right were for company business.

The red chits are for military deaths.

So I need lots of red ones.

A Question

If a tree falls in the forest, and no-one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

It's an old question, designed to open your mind to questioning the nature of reality,  what is sound, is it in the eye, or rather ear, of the beholder, or is it the thing making the waves of energy that are converted into sound the thing that makes noise and thus doesn't require an audience? What is sound?

But to be honest, the question is fatally flawed.

There's always someone to hear it.

Or something at least.

Just out of reach...

Lowest Point

I never found out what it was called, but this cheesy made-for-TV movie I saw while I was home sick from school really stuck with me. The lead actress, at the end as she was in the arms of her true love, said that sometimes you have to get to your lowest point before you find the person who'll raise you up.

So the night I was dumped, broke, and sitting dejected in the gutter, and I met him, I thought it was fate.

And it was, in a way, as a few years later I met his divorce lawyer.