Memory Loss

The four awoke. They all blankly looked at the expanse of screens in front of them. Although several alarms were going off, every eye focused on the spent amnesia grenade sitting on the bench. Next to it sat a las-gun and a hastily scribbled note.

‘Barry’s The One’.

The sole female was the first to move, grabbing the las-gun and pointing it at the men.

“Hey, whoa…” said one, holding up his hands.

“Well I’m clearly not…”

She suddenly fired once she noticed the nametags.

Lucky too, Barry almost remembered tossing the grenade to stop the shapechangers from taking over.

Name Changing

The form’s now more bureaucratically boring, but it’s still my job to deal with everyone who has decided their name needs changing. Most of the time it’s people with that look in their eyes, the look of someone who thinks they’ve seen the light and thus need to be called Moonchild or something. The rest of the time it’s usually an eighteen year old, in to change from a Moonchild to a more normal name.

But the times when it’s one normal name to another, they’re the ones you remember. Since normal old names are the most useful to steal…

The Silence Of Sound

In a world filled with data, with activity, with noise, is it any wonder it eventually became meaningless to me? That the more the world tried to step in, the more the world filled up space, the more I pulled back?

When I got rid of my television, most thought I was ahead of the curve. When I got rid of the internet, most thought I was being a ‘hipster’. When I moved away, I no longer cared what they thought.

I eventually managed to shut it out, I finally found my peace and quiet.

And then I met her.

All About The Numbers

As they filed into the bus, I gave them my brightest (fake) smile.

“Hello all, I’m Greg, and I’m sure you’re all going to have a wondrous time at the ‘Happiest Kingdom Of Them All’. But before we begin, we just have some numbers you gotta remember for me, all right? The bus between your hotel and the Park is 5-7-4. What number is it, nice and loud?”

“5-7-4.” they chanted back.

“And it leaves the Park at 18-45. What time?”

“18-45.”

“And finally, 1-7-5-.-5-0.”

“1-7-5-.-5-0.” they chanted back, confused.

“That’s the price of the taxi ride back. Let’s go!”

The Specifics Of Summoning

I awoke to find the guys I’d just met standing over me, wearing these dark robes and chanting in some foreign language I didn’t understand.

“Uh, guys? Why… Why am I tied up? And naked? I probably should have asked that one first, but-“

Johnny, assuming that was his name (which I was starting to doubt it was) glared at me.

“You will be the conduit for the Dark Lord Tizsmoilon, as he requires a virgin to-“

“I’m not a virgin!” I said quickly.

‘Johnny’ snorted.

“We read your dating profile.”

“It says ‘Grey Area’!”

Not-Barry finished chanting.

Nothing happened.

Exodus 1:8

From behind my food cart, I watched as the kids cheered on the old men and women marching along, slower now with every passing year, as well as those who could no longer walk.

“’Now there arose up a new king over Egypt, which knew not Joseph.’”

I turned, and a young man stood there, his uniform covered in dirt and red fluid.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Why are they celebrating war? War is horrible. War is disgusting, and brutal, and not to be celebrated.”

“Remembering isn’t celebrating.” I managed, weakly.

He looked at me, then faded away.

Diet Program

I had just finished stacking the Jumbo aspirin when they came around the corner. He was pushing the cart, she was speaking in a tone of voice I knew all too well.

“Why are we in this relationship if you won’t listen to me? All I’m trying to do is help, but you keep ignoring me, and keep cheating, what’s the point? Why have me if you won’t just LISTEN?”

He stopped, turned around, and then reached over and pushed her shoulder. She slumped over.

“Hey, where’s the bot program aisle?” he asked me.

“Seventeen, next to the replacement heads.”