Category Archives: Short Stories

Florida Man Found in Possession of 31 Stolen Shopping Carts

This week in Palm Bay, Florida, police responded to a domestic disturbance in the home of Jake Meyers. Several concerned neighbors called to report a possible fight between Meyers and his girlfriend, Melissa Davison. When officers arrived on scene they found the cause of the argument to be Meyers’ collection of stolen shopping carts. “The entire living room was filled with shopping carts,” said Officer Joan Martinez in her official report. “There were carts from all sorts of major department stores; there was barely room to walk.” Davison wasted no time informing Officer Martinez that Meyers had been stealing shopping carts for years, slowly filling their home with carts from across the city. “He’s a hoarder! I’ve been asking him for years to get rid of them all, but he just kept stealing more!” Davison said. “If this is the only way to make it stop then so be it!”

It took police three hours to empty the house of shopping carts, which have since been returned to their rightful owners. Marvin Greene, owner of the local Walmart, says he’d “known that the carts were being stolen, but [he’d] never imagined it was all one guy.” In the aftermath of the raid, there were 11 Walmart carts, 9 Target carts, 6 Winn Dixie carts, and 5 from various local grocers. One of Meyer’s neighbors, who wished to remain anonymous, said that Meyers “was a very nice young man. I never would have suspected him of filling his house with shopping carts. These days you just never know.” Meyers is being charged with 31 counts of petty theft and a fine of up to $25,000. Meyers declined to comment but has entered a plea of not guilty and is now awaiting trial.

BIG ISLAND (A DREAM)

 The grass on the hilltop bids me sweet goodbye as I run to you— what looks like you—, swaying back and forth like in Japanese films. My shirt billows a little behind me while you take my picture; we laugh when the wind steals your straw boater as fare. The beach shines green under my bare feet—our own little Innisfree.


For a small eternity, I stand at the ocean’s edge and think about dead writers. When it’s time to turn back to you I pick up a handful of sand and hold it to my chest; your eyes crinkle in a rare smile. Olivine, you say, and I repeat it in my head until it sticks.

******

Originally published in MoonPark Review (Spring 2018).

Castle of Crows – Part 1

Every summer for the past three years my sister Macey and I have stayed with our Aunt Penelope in Scotland. It started because Macey was having a princess phase and found out that the reason we never saw Aunt Pen was because she was restoring a castle. I hadn’t really wanted to go back then (Scotland was a long way from Virginia and I was pretty sure castles were for girls anyway), but Dad wasn’t about to send one of us and not the other, so I was overruled on the matter. So when I was ten and Macey was twelve, we flew to Glasgow and saw Aunt Pen for the first time since she’d left the US.

“Macey! Dillon! Oh, look how big you’ve gotten!”

Aunt Pen started fussing over us immediately, ruffling my hair and fawning over Macey’s princess dress. She was an eccentric lady, too. Every move she made was accompanied by the clinking of her bright gold bangles, and her dress was maroon with long dragging sleeves. Her nails were long and painted red, and her hair was pulled back by a flowered headband. Before we got to the castle we stopped in a nearby village, and she bought us each a cinnamon bun before going to the butcher and getting a bag of scraps. It smelled awful, and when Macey asked what they were there for, Aunt Pen just smiled at her, which put us both on edge.

Aunt Pen’s castle was about five miles from the village. The road curved through the woods, and the trees were so tall that we couldn’t see the castle until we were right in front of it. It was a large building made of stone, built at the bottom of a hill and overlooking a big lake. It was old, but it looked well taken care of, and I could feel Macey’s excitement finally rubbing off on me. As soon as the car was parked we jumped out, racing to the doors, Aunt Pen trailing behind.

“Just a moment, kids!” Aunt Pen called after us. “I want to show you something.”

We followed Aunt Pen around the side of the castle, towards the treeline. There was a wooden fence separating the castle grounds from the forest, which was dark and made me uneasy. Aunt Pen whistled. For a moment nothing happened, and then suddenly crows started lining up on the fence, cawing as they landed and eyeing us curiously. Aunt Pen started pulling the scrap meat out of her bag and feeding them one by one.

“This is Macey and Dillon, my niece and nephew. They’ll be spending the summer here.”

“Er, Aunt Pen? Are you talking to the crows?” Macey looked mildly terrified, and I couldn’t help but feel the same. One of the larger crows cawed at us, and Macey took a step back.

“Yes dear, crows are very clever and very loyal. One never needs to fear if they’ve befriended the crows. Would you like to feed them?”

Macey was horrified, but I was curious. The crows were a little bit creepy, but Aunt Pen seemed so at ease with them that I couldn’t help but feel more at ease too. So I nodded, and I reached into her bag of scraps.

“Hold it by the very edge, and reach out carefully,” Aunt Pen instructed,  guiding me towards the large crow. “This is Baron; he’s the largest crow in the murder.”

“Murder?” Macey asked.

“Yes, that’s what a flock of crows is called, dear,” Aunt Pen said. “Now say hello and introduce yourself. Then give him the meat.”

“Hi Baron,” I said, only feeling a little bit silly talking to a crow. “I’m Dillon. It’s nice to meet you.”

Baron cawed at me, then snatched the meat out of my hand and scarfed it down in seconds. Baron cawed some more, and I smiled at him in return.

“Well done, Dillon! I think he likes you. Would you like to try, Macey?”

“She’s too scared to try,” I said, grinning smugly. Macey glared back at me.

“I’m not scared! If you can do it, I can too!” Then Macey marched forward and grabbed a piece of meat, only looking slightly disgusted by the feeling of it.

Aunt Pen led her to a smaller crow and had her hold her hand out. “This is Nixie. Go ahead and say hello, dear.”

“Hi Nixie, I’m Macey! Your name is really pretty,” Macey said, holding out the scrap meat. Nixie cawed softly, then grabbed the meat. Macey jumped a bit when she did, and Nixie cawed at her again.

“Well done, Macey! You two are going to be very popular; I can already tell,” Aunt Pen said, turning to look at the sunset and frowning. “It’s getting a bit late, so we’ll have to head inside now. While we’re out here though, I need to tell you the most important rule of staying here with me.

“See this fence? It goes all the way around the castle grounds. It is very important that you don’t cross it without me. The woods are tricky to navigate, and as you might have noticed during the drive up, the castle isn’t visible if you get too far away. So stay out of the trees, alright?”

“Sure thing Aunt Pen!” Macey said, smiling.

“Good,” Aunt Pen said, returning her smile. “Now let’s head inside and get washed up for dinner.”

We followed after her, and I quickly forgot about crows and forests and rules. For that night, all that mattered was me and my sister and our joint effort to keep Aunt Pen from making haggis for dinner. It was the first simple night we had at the castle, and, though we didn’t know it then, the last simple night.

The Kaleidoscope

The dim yellow glow of a simple flashlight illuminates the barely-there path. Black dirt, littered with the thick roots of trees hidden by fallen leaves, gives way to unruly vines scattered with orange gourds. The old house looms above the pumpkin patch, its sloping rooftop dropping shingles every time the wind picks up. The cold breeze could cut through any coat, and my hoodie offers little warmth. As I carefully move towards the house, vines crack underfoot, and the flashlight’s beam jerks with the unexpected noise. Dark wings flutter into the night as I try in vain to get my rapid breathing under control. I finally reach the house, and hesitantly knock. There’s no reply, and the windows are so stained with grime that I cannot see inside. But the wind starts again, and the cold pushes me to try the door’s handle. The old door creaks loudly as it swings open, and I tentatively call out a greeting as I step inside. The musty air is heavy with dust when I breathe it in, and I wonder if I was wrong. The rotting floorboards moan as I tread upon them, and the intricately patterned wallpaper is stained brown and peeling off the walls. This place seems abandoned, but I was so certain I’d seen a light come this way. I hesitate in the entryway. Should I leave? I’m not certain I could find the road again so late at night, and I know the battery in my flashlight won’t last forever. My mind is made up for me when the door slams behind me with a resounding bang.

I spin around and rush to open it again, but the door is stuck fast, and it won’t budge no matter how hard I pull. I pull too hard, as it turns out, because the handle pops off and I end up falling. The floorboards creak and a cloud of dust rises all around me, tickling my nose and setting off a fit of coughing. I twirl the handle in my hand; it’s old enough to have been worn smooth, but the faded brass still shines when the light hits it. I sigh and pick myself up off the ground. It’s time to find another exit. I make my way out of the foyer and into the parlor. There is furniture in this room, but it’s old and dilapidated, and the floral couch looks like it would fall apart if I so much as brushed by it. There’s a rug, but it’s too clouded in dirt to distinguish a pattern, and every step I take on it sends up little puffs of dust. There’s another doorway to my right, and based on the rancid smell of rotting food, it leads to the kitchen. I decide to save that room for last. I cross over to the windows. The grime is just as impenetrable on this side of the glass as it was outside, and I feel along the edges of the window pane for the latch. In the end, finding it doesn’t matter, because it’s rusted shut and I nearly cut my hand trying to pry it open. I sigh once more and move back into the foyer. To my left is the front door, still shut tight; to the right there’s a staircase, and across from me is the dining room. My flashlight passes over the room quickly. There are a table and chairs that have been covered by grey cloth that may once have been white, curtains that have long since faded from pink to brown and now hang limp and rotting from iron curtain rods that look as though they’re one strong breeze away from falling, and a crystal chandelier that somehow still manages to sparkle through the dust and cobwebs that cling to it. I turn from the dining room, The kitchen is my last hope of escape, unless I want to try jumping out of a window on one of the upper floors. I do not.

I turn around and steel myself to breathe the smell of rot once more, but then I hear a thud from above me. I pause, looking at the cracked ceiling as though it holds all the answers. Then I hear something roll across the floor, and a trail of dust shakes loose above to mark its path. My heart stops for a moment, but then the noise stops too, and my heart kicks into overdrive.

“Hello?”

There is no answer, and I try to come up with an explanation for the noise. Perhaps a raccoon got into the house somehow? And it knocked something over while looking for food? That’s a plausible enough explanation to slow my heartbeat, at least until I hear the soft laughter of a child. Raccoons are crafty creatures, but they cannot mimic small children. I panic for a moment; what if some poor child is trapped in this house too? I’m moving to the stairs before I even finish the thought, rounding the corner of the landing and making my way to the second floor in record time. The floor opens up to a drawing room, but as my flashlight scans across the space, the seemingly ancient furniture isn’t what catches my eye. The room is empty of life, and it doesn’t look like anyone has been here for decades, except for the shiny metal cylinder lying on the floor by the staircase on the other side of the room. I walk towards it before I have a chance to think about it, and when I pick it up I realize that it’s a kaleidoscope. I can’t help but play with it for a bit, watching as the colors shift into each other and create new patterns. There’s no telling how long I may have stood there, but then I catch movement out of the corner of my eye, and I hear the giggle again, much closer this time. I look up, and for half a second I swear that there’s a shadow on the stairs, but it’s gone so quickly that I’m sure my eyes must just be playing tricks on me. I carefully make my way up the steps to the third floor, cringing every time they creak.

When I reach the top of the stairs I find myself in the attic, but it’s been renovated into a nursery. There are toys scattered around the room, and the faded wallpaper looks as though it would have been colorful when it was first put up. Moonlight shines into the room from a large circular window, and I click off my flashlight as I take a few steps forward. I can’t see anyone, but I know that I heard someone laughing.

“I know you’re here.” Silence greets my declaration, and I take a few more cautious steps into the light. “Just come out, okay? I’m not going to hurt you.”

The giggle sounds again behind me, but when I turn there’s no one there. My heartbeat picks up again, but I do my best to keep my voice steady as I turn back to the empty nursery. “Please come out. This isn’t funny.”

The room is silent, and for a moment I think that I’m going to be ignored, but then the air shifts around me. I stiffen as I feel someone’s breath against my ear, and his whisper is barely more than a breath. “Boo.”

Ghost

This was never supposed to be a ghost story. My grandfather built this house with his own two hands, but I don’t think he ever meant to haunt it. He died peaceful in his sleep, the way everyone always says they want to go. Peaceful deaths aren’t supposed to make ghosts.

We all hear him in the creaking floorboards, we can feel the ridges of his fingertips in the faulty wiring. Nothing in this place is without his maker’s mark.

My grandmother has it the worst, though. She sees him lingering in every corner, but he’s gone before she can get a good look. They always slept in twin beds across the room from each other, like a TV couple from the fifties, and she keeps the bed made for him—dusting off the patchwork quilt every few days. Just in case.

Once, she tells me that she woke up to see him standing at the end of her bed. Watching over her along with the painted porcelain angels that line her bedside shelf like a row of holy soldiers.

“He looked good. Like the day we met,” She tells me. She lays her hand on mine and her skin looks like crumbled tissue paper stretched thin over her hollowed bones, “What I don’t understand is why he keeps leaving me here all alone.”

She sees other ghosts too, though none loom quite so large over my mother and I as my grandfather does. My grandmother tells me that her father came to visit one day, his legs finally healed from his accident in the coal mines. She asks my mother when her brother is going to visit again, since she keeps seeing him standing at the edge of her driveway working on a car that he had owned back in 1967. Her mind seems to run in a loop, so haunted by the phantoms that surround her that she becomes unsure of how each day bleeds into the next.

I start wondering if I too might start seeing ghosts one day, and I see the same fear sparking behind my mother’s eyes. We wonder if this haunting might be hereditary, as we watch my grandmother lose track of life and death before our eyes. Our fear is shaped like my grandfather’s silhouette, lingering in the corners of the house he built.

Line of Gemini – Part 15

His wrists shackled together, burning his skin, Eli shuffled along, prodded forward by a Leo. He winced when the man pushed him a little too hard onto the platform, forcing him to his knees. Eli had been captured by one of the Cassiopeia, and of course without Tod, he’d been helpless to fight back. And if Tod wasn’t here now, he was done for.

He saw a pair of polished knee high boots appear in front of him, spurs flaming, sparking with electric energy. He looked up to see one of the Cassiopeia with the long sword they’d used for executions since the beginning of their realm. It wasn’t often that they performed public executions; the phenomenon had started quite recently, just after the Great War. The woman, Isolde, tipped his chin up with the sword to stare into his eyes. “Hm,” she said, and there was an odd smile on her face. “What a shame.”

She handed the sword to the executioner, the Leo behind him and Eli braced himself, when they were interrupted by more footsteps. Eli glanced out of the corner of his eye to see to his surprise, Tod and Sunny. Sunny? How had she gotten here?

The executioner spoke in a gruff voice: “No one else is allowed up here.”

Tod crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m ruling with Isolde, and this is my…assistant” – he gestured to Sunny – “so I think it’s perfectly fine. I help make the rules around here, right?”

Isolde’s mouth dropped open. “Just – just get on with it!” she snapped at the executioner.

But before he could, a bolt of light arced through the air, hitting the executioner squarely in the chest. He moaned and fell to the ground. Eli met eyes with one of the Cassiopeia, hand still raised. Immediately, some of the other Cassiopeia attacked her, beating her to the ground.

“What on Dross!” Isolde cursed, scrambling for the sword.

Just as she picked it up, Eli leaped to his feet, and joining hands with Tod, felt the familiar energy pulsing through him. But there was something wrong – Tod was weaker than he’d been before. Eli pushed past it and summoned all the strength he had. Isolde raised the sword, and Eli fired a wave of white energy, what looked like shards of broken stars, in her direction. She was blasted off her feet and fell dizzily to the ground.  

She groaned in pain, and then tried to get to her feet, but she was hit again, what felt like flames attacking her face.

“No!” she screamed. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was her father’s face staring worriedly down at her, and his voice mixed with hers echoing in the distance.

Line of Gemini – Part 14

When they reached the place of the execution, a wooden stage, right outside of the white and gold palace, Sunny’s mouth dropped. The palace sprawled so far Sunny had trouble seeing the end of it. Instead of gargoyles, there were golden statues of the Gemini peering over the ramparts. She looked up at the statues, then at the golden cupolas, then down at the darkened moat, a waterfall pouring into it.

The crowd was divided into the different groups, Tod told her: Gemini, Cassiopeia, Taurus, Scorpio, Sagittarius, and Leo. And they all milled about, like lions in cages, shooting people from opposite groups nasty looks. As soon as they got there, Isolde went over to the other Cassiopeia, and Tod and Sunny stayed back, away from everyone else. He told her to keep her head down, not look at anyone.

“Aren’t there more groups than this?” she asked, and Tod shook his head.

“No, not all the horoscopes that you know have Setareh forms. Remember, humans named the horoscopes after us. Not the other way around.”

People were shouting and cheering and waving signs, one of which said, “Death to Tyranny.” Sunny frowned. If that person was really for Eli getting killed, she thought it was kind of strange and ironic, but whatever. 

“Geez,” she said. “A lot of people sure hate Eli.”

“Are you surprised?” Tod scowled, looking at the crowd around them.

“I don’t know – ” She paused. “Like what happened with him? What happened with you guys? And why are people so mean?”

Tod sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“Tell it. They’re taking their sweet time,” she said. And she just needed something to get her mind off Eli and the terrifying place she’d found herself in. Maybe if she could understand, she could be more help.

When she’d asked Tod if he had a plan, he’d just shrugged, so she guessed he was still thinking. They still had time, because contrary to what Isolde had made it seem like, they’d gotten here way too early.

“Well…everyone used to be a lot nicer and friendlier. Like on Earth. Everyone’s pretty nice there.”  

“Ehh,” Sunny said, shrugging her shoulders.

“But you know, they say that on Earth, most people are nice and do their best. But it’s the exact opposite on this planet. Everyone is rude and self-serving. I’d say 95 % of people are. People don’t even know the meaning of love. And if someone does love, it’s seen as a fluke. A mistake.”

“Really?” Sunny’s eyes widened. “But – it didn’t used to be like this?”

He shook his head. “No, well, at least not as bad. Everyone used to care about Earth and other planets and want to help grant the people there wishes. But then the Setareh started to get frustrated. We have long life spans. Up to a thousand years. And…people who’d been around a while saw that humans continuously made the same mistakes. They failed again and again. They turned to war and fought and killed each other. They hated others based on their beliefs. The Cassiopeia in particular were the frontrunners of the Anti Wish movement. They basically said we should stop granting wishes because humans no longer deserved our help if they were just going to mess up again and again. But the Gemini, as the rulers, disagreed and said we should continue to help. And that’s what caused the war. It was the first war on our planet.” Tod’s eyes darkened. “I wasn’t born then. But the war destroyed so much. And…” His voice cracked. “Nothing was ever the same. These people aren’t the people of the past. They’ve turned into everything they hate. They fight. They no longer care about anyone else except themselves.” He paused. “Humans aren’t perfect but you can’t expect perfection. That’s why they need our help. But no one can help now. We have too many problems.”

“Wow.” Sunny popped her tongue. “You weren’t joking. That was a long story.”

“Yeah.”

“So…what about you and Eli? What did you fight about?”

Tod scratched his neck. “Well, we at least agreed that we wanted to grant wishes again. But he wanted to continue to fight the Cassiopeia and mow down all the opposition and…I knew that we couldn’t continue to be at war. It had already destroyed so much but he just doesn’t seem to get that. Of course my parents were on his side, but as you can see – ” He gestured to the group around him. “A lot of people hate Eli. So he actually does need me. He finally got it through his big thick head – ”

“Tod.” Sunny grabbed him by the shoulder. “It’s okay. Calm down.”

Tod took a breath. He knew that he was acting just like the others, annoyed by Eli just because he had different views, but he couldn’t stand him sometimes.

“I can’t be ruler,” Tod said. “I can’t.” He bit his lip, his voice weak.

“Well, maybe you don’t have to. Maybe after we save Eli, we can figure something out,” Sunny said.

“No.” Tod shook his head. “I have to be ruler. I already am.”

“Huh?” Sunny said, tilting her head. “What do you mean?”

He told her everything, well, with the exception of the heir.

“You fused with her?” Sunny said. “Doesn’t that mean – ”

“Doesn’t that mean what? It doesn’t mean anything,” Tod said, turning red. “Anyway, I’m stuck here with these terrible people. And I have to figure out how we’re going to fix this mess.”

“Oh.” Sunny swallowed. “I’m sorry.” She paused. “But since you’re leader, you can just tell them to not kill Eli. Simple.” She smiled, but Tod didn’t respond with one of his own.

“Yeah. See how Isolde likes that. She’s basically the leader and I’m her sidekick that she dresses up like a little puppet.”

He paused and then said, “When Eli comes out, I’m going up there.”

Sunny felt like the hot temperature was finally getting to her brain. She let out a little gasp. “Um, what? That’s your brilliant plan?”

He swallowed. “It’s all I’ve got.”

Sunny crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay, but I’m coming up there with you.”

“Sunny – ”

“We’re in this together.” She put a hand on his arm, and he looked uncomfortable, but a slight blush appeared on his face.

He didn’t answer, just nodded, and they waited, staring straight ahead.

Line of Gemini – Part 13

After Sunny wished, nothing happened. She sighed. Of course not. It wasn’t like she’d expected anything. She shielded her eyes against the sun, and then shook her head, her heart sinking to the pit of her stomach.

About a half hour passed before she felt the car lifting off the ground.

“Whoa.” She looked to her right, to see if anyone else had noticed, but everyone was focused on the road. A part of her said that the lack of sleep was causing her to hallucinate but it couldn’t be, because she saw the road growing smaller and smaller below her, before her very eyes. “What the – ” She started to panic, scanning the dashboard to see if there was some magic button she could push to get her on the ground, but there was nothing.

She’d never been on a plane before; she didn’t even like heights. Sunny shrunk against her seat, shuddering, her eyes tightly shut. “No, no, no, no,” she whispered. Another half hour passed, and then the car began to pick up speed. Letting out a breath, Sunny cracked her eyes open. The sky was dark blue and she saw a planet below, not earth, but a green and gold sphere, with black lines that looked like veins traversing it in every direction.

The car whooshed towards the planet, and Sunny gritted her teeth, trying not to scream. She failed at that.

When they hit the ground, she bit her tongue, her heart in her throat. Once her head had stopped shouting at her and her nerves were sufficiently jangled, she realized that music was still playing – banging in her ears. She ran her hands over her face, shaking. She couldn’t even focus or stop her fingers from trembling to turn it off. “Oh God, oh God.” How could she have gotten here? How could she even be alive right now? She was a human, right? Unless…

She looked at her hands and saw they were glowing. Like the sun.

She opened the car’s door and slipped out. Her feet crunched on black crunchy sand and she found herself in a small clearing. Surrounding her were tall green trees, and despite the fact that the trees were everywhere, it was still very bright.

Sunny shielded her eyes and turned around in a circle. She swallowed, and after a few moments, picked out the sound of running water. She didn’t like standing idle and so she figured she’d better follow it – at least, that was a start. She pushed through the brush and had been making good headway when she saw a small creature with green fur scurrying ahead of her. Curious, Sunny ducked under some brambles, thorns cutting her cheek and catching her hair. She yanked away, her hair tangled, and then tripped over a vine, falling on her face. “Oww,” she groaned. She realized then that the ground below her wasn’t really sand; it was more like bits of sharp black rock.

When she heard a panicked squeaking she jolted to her knees. What she saw first was a huge carnivorous plant. Its teeth dripped with an icky brown substance, and its stem, as well as its massive jaws, were mottled brown and gray. The squeaking came from the green rat like creature and Sunny could see that it was trapped underneath the plant’s thorny vines. Before the plant could dive at the ground, Sunny pulled out her pocket knife and hacked away. The plant roared at her, the brown juice spattering her face. Sunny yelled back. “Shut up, you stupid plant!”

Just a couple cuts and her hands pulled the creature out. She stumbled away from the angry plant and stared at the animal’s cute face. It kind of looked like a ferret, except it was green with a gray stripe from its forehead to its tail. “Aww! Hi there!” Sunny said, already thinking of names and bringing the creature back to Earth with her. However, the cuteness didn’t last long. The animal bared its sharp teeth and bit down hard on her thumb.

“Ouch!”

She dropped it and stuck her thumb in her mouth, the acrid taste of blood filling her mouth. “That’s how you repay me?” she spat. “Not going to save you again. Jerk.”

Wow. I’ve been here ten minutes. I’m already talking to small furry animals like I’m back home.

On Earth.

The familiar panic set in and Sunny fell to her knees, starting to hyperventilate. “Oh, God,” she murmured, and a lump gathered in her throat – she couldn’t do this. Why did she think that she could? Why did she wish to be here? She was helpless, and she’d be better off back home. The tears flowed down her cheeks and she felt her body burning up. She feared the worst: what if whatever was allowing to be here was wearing off? What if she was going to burn up and die? She screamed.

“Sunny!”

A familiar voice broke into her thoughts and she turned around to see Tod.

Her eyes narrowed. He was wearing a long green and white cape with a gray romper underneath. He was still wearing his sunglasses. And somehow, he looked less foolish than he usually did. “Tod,” she breathed in relief, getting to her feet and wiping tears from her eyes. “I – how’d you find me?”

He stepped closer, swallowing. “I can see you.” When she looked confused, he added, “It’s a Setareh thing.”

“A Setareh thing, huh.” She gestured behind her. “Are humongous carnivorous plants also a Setareh thing?”

“Yeah. Well, a Dross thing.”

“Right.” Her hands shook, and she had so many questions, but all she said was: “Um, the word dross? It means rubbish.’ Did you guys know that when you settled your planet?”

“No,” Tod said, shaking his head. “But I guess it makes sense because the Setareh – they made a garbage planet into something…better.” He paused. “You’ll see.”

“Where’s Eli?” Sunny said suddenly. “Did he get here?”

“Oh – ” Tod was about to reply when a woman crashed through the undergrowth and came to a stop in front of Tod. “I cannot believe you!” she yelled at him, smacking him hard.

“Ow.” Tod rubbed his jaw.

“Uhm – ” Sunny said. “Who are you?”

“Don’t talk to me,” the woman said, pointing a finger at Sunny. Then she turned back to Tod and said to him: “You get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness.”

“No.” Tod shifted his weight, knowing that Isolde was definitely serious with the getting down on his knees thing but also knowing that Isolde had a pretty short attention span. “Take us back.”

“Okay, guys, what is going on?” Sunny said.

Isolde turned to her. “Your little friend here tricked us,” she snapped. “He said he just wanted to protect you. Not bring you to our planet. Then he forced me to take him to find you.” She gritted her teeth. “Since he doesn’t have Eli, he barely has any of his power. Disgusting.” She spat on the ground.

“Eli?” Sunny felt faint. “Where’s Eli?”

“He’s going to be executed. And we’re going to be late to the party if we don’t hurry up,” she said, and for the first time, a spark of joy entered her eyes. “So let’s go.”

Tod shook his head. And this is the woman I’m having a kid with.

He wasn’t telling Sunny that anytime soon.

***

Sunny had had two panic attacks already, and she wasn’t ready for a third. But she was freaking out about Eli. What if they didn’t get there in time? While Isolde got ready, which meant fiddling with all her accoutrements, including her whip, her gloves, and her stupid forehead band, Sunny stared at Tod.

“I don’t like heights,” she admitted.

“Don’t worry,” Tod said, squeezing her shoulder. “I’ll be right next to you. Just shut your eyes and we’ll be there in no time at all.” He looked at Isolde. “And Izzy, you’re fine with carrying both of us?”

What did you call me?” She put her hands on her hips.

Tod swallowed. “It’s just a nickname – ”

She grabbed him by the arm, jerking him hard, and gave Sunny the same treatment. “Ow,” she whined.

Isolde took a breath, then they shot off into the sky. Sunny shut her eyes tightly, then a horrid thought came to her. What if Isolde dropped her? She’d be dashed to pieces on the ground below. She really hoped this person was nicer than that.

What if I just dropped this stupid human girl? Isolde thought to herself. She’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t thinking about it. But the truth was, she wouldn’t do it. And she knew what was holding back, what would always hold her back. Nobody, at least barely anybody, on Dross were in relationships for love. Love didn’t survive on their planet. They weren’t wired for it. And people who fell in love usually ended up depressed or dead. Her mom had been Cassiopeia and her dad had been a Taurus. It hadn’t gone well when the war happened. But she’d been born out of their love. Sometimes she still felt it. But she pushed it down. Until it came to a choice like the one she was carrying right now.

And she thought of her parents and she couldn’t help but do the right thing out of guilt. If it even was the right thing.

Well, she told herself, it didn’t matter. It was at least what her mother would have wanted, and that was right enough, at any rate.

Graveyard Shift – Part 2

The ancient looking hand opens, slowly, and drops a bag of Peanut M&M’s onto the counter.

“Oh,” Mickey says, “Okay. That’ll be $2.25”

There’s a loud thump behind her as, presumably, Sid faints and hits the linoleum. Just as slowly, the front-most hooded figure pulls a five-dollar bill from somewhere on their person and retrieves the M&Ms. The hissing sound gets louder, and as they float back out the door Mickey takes it to mean, “Keep the change.”

Mickey turns to check on Sid, who has since come to. He rises slowly his feet, staring intently at her for a long moment before he gathers up the courage to actually speak.

“H-how long have you worked here, again?” Sid asks.

“About 15 years,” Mickey tells him.

“Right. Great. Please please please tell me that was the weirdest shit you’ve ever seen in here.”

“Oh, not even close,” Mickey leans back against the counter, “Welcome to the graveyard shift, kid.”

 

Line of Gemini – Part 12

Exhausted the next day, Sunny chugged a cup of coffee and hit the road. When she’d opened her eyes that morning, she’d managed to convince herself for a few minutes that she was in Nashville with her normal family. However, that didn’t last long when she saw that she was entirely alone. She called her parents and said that everything was fine. Both of her parents were on their way to work so they didn’t talk long. Somewhat relieved, but still feeling like garbage, she stared out at the road ahead of her. “Great, here’s hoping I don’t get attacked,” she muttered to herself.

Even though she turned on her music, she couldn’t get Tod and Eli out of her head. She was angry at them, angry at Tod for keeping it a secret for so long, angry at them for arguing. But more than that, she missed them and she wanted to help them. She remembered Eli had said something about granting wishes. Maybe she could wish for something and they’d hear her. She cleared her throat, even though she wasn’t even going to say her wish out loud, and thought hard.

*** Continue reading Line of Gemini – Part 12

Line of Gemini – Part 11

The cold night air took away Tod’s breath as the woman hauled him through the sky, toward the stars. “Hey, wait,” he tried to say, but the words wouldn’t form in his throat, and even if they had, he knew they wouldn’t have made a difference. They climbed higher and higher until Tod saw a gleam of gold below them – their planet. He could see the mountains from here.

“You know we can’t get through the barrier,” he said. “Not without Eli.” The only way he and Eli could go back in the first place was if they combined their energy and called for the other Gemini to help them. Tod going through alone – it would disturb the balance and their universe would fight against it. Without Eli, Tod was little more than a human.

The woman scoffed. “Well, guess you finally got lucky, Tadraz. I found a loophole.”

Tadraz. My real name. He grimaced. Her fingers latched onto his.

“Wait, what?” He tried to pull away. “What are you doing?”

He could feel her power coursing through his body. “No. No!” He tried to struggle, but she was much too strong. In a moment, she had merged with him and Tod was gone, seeing the world through her eyes, battling with her thoughts. It wasn’t long before her power overcame his and he blacked out.

***

Her name was Isolde and she was going to bring peace to the world. Well, that was the plan anyway. She pulled her hood down, watching Tod as he lay there on the floor. She crouched by his side, pushing his sweaty hair away from his forehead. “Poor baby,” she said.

“Isolde!” a voice echoed in her ear and she heard the familiar clomp of hooves. Smiling, Isolde leaped to her feet to see her father coming her way.

“Daddy,” she said, rushing over to him. “Look.” She pointed at Tod’s body.

Her father laughed. “I’m proud of you.” He kissed her forehead, then stooped lower to look at Tod, his muscles creaking with age. “What is he wearing? You can’t expect to march to the palace with him looking like that.”

She eyed Tod’s strange outfit. “Dad, you know the humans have weird superstitions. Obviously, those plastic things don’t work against us.” She pointed at Tod’s necklace.  

Her father was a Taurus, since the line of Cassiopeia was all female. Horns sprouted from his head and tattoos burned into his skin flickered in the light.

“Certainly not.” He chuckled, running a hand over his beard. “So, did someone else get Eli?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’m sure they will.”

“Well, I’m proud of you. You’re going to be queen.”

“Finally. We worked so hard.” She felt the warm light getting steadily warmer inside her and the smile on her face grew brighter. She’d tell her father later. He’d be so happy.

***  

“Tod’s gone?” Sunny yelled. She couldn’t believe it. She shook her head. “You were supposed to be watching out for each other.” Her voice trembled.

“I know – I know. It just happened so fast. I’ll find him, don’t worry,” Eli said. Better than anyone, he knew that was what he had to do.

“I’ll come,” Sunny said.

“No,” Eli said. “No, you go back home. You can’t come. You’re a human and you’ll die on our planet.”

“But you can’t even get home without Tod,” she protested.

“I’ll find a way,” Eli said, pushing past her.

Sunny ran after him. “But wait, you can’t just leave me – ”

He didn’t answer, slamming the door. Sunny wanted to run after him, but she knew he was right. There was nothing she could do – she was a human. She’d never hated being a human so much before. It always seemed like it was a gift – make a mistake, well, you’re only human. But now it was what was preventing her from helping her friends.

She checked the time. It was three o’clock in the morning. How worse could this trip get? She’d have to go home, tell her parents what happened. She just imagined how that would go.

“So the boys we adopted, they’re actually aliens from another planet. On the way to Nashville, we got attacked by this woman, who’s also from that planet, but they killed her, so it’s all good, right? But then another came to our hotel and kidnapped Tod. Of course I can’t do anything, so Eli left to go after him. And I didn’t even get to see the solar eclipse. That’s what I’m really bummed about.” Sunny burst into tears. She knew her parents wouldn’t believe her. Her dad would probably say something like, “Cocaine is a hell of a drug,” and her mom would think she was crazy.

Hey, even she thought she was crazy. She remembered that she hadn’t called her parents to tell them that they’d gotten here all right but she figured it was too late now. She lay back on her bed and rubbed her eyes, inhaling shakily. It would be fine. She’d go home, she’d make up a story, say that they found another family – it didn’t matter.

She’d just forget about them.

But she knew that wasn’t going to happen.

Graveyard Shift – Part 1

It’s around 4 AM when the group of cloaked figures wanders into the little backwoods gas station. There are around half a dozen of them, shrouded entirely by heaps of dark fabric, moving in near-perfect unison, and huddled so tightly that Mickey can’t quite get an exact headcount. She clears her throat as they pass by the counter, hoping to get her new co-worker-in-training’s attention. Sid looks up from the stool he has stationed just across from her, in the one corner of the store with decent phone signal, and Mickey nods in the general direction of the group—who, she now notices, are haloed by what looks like a dark haze of shifting fog (or maybe one of them is vaping. It’s honestly difficult to tell.) They seem to float along the ground rather than walk (that one’s a bit harder to justify.)

“What the fuck,” Sid mouths silently. As the figures turn down the snack cake aisle, he shuffles over to her side behind the counter.

“Who—what—the hell is that?” Sid whispers. Well, tries to whisper. He’s only been working there less than a week, but Mickey can tell the kid is jumpy even on a regular night, and now his voice is loud enough to alert the dead.

“Out-of-towners?” Mickey guesses.

Before they can discuss it further, the cloaked figures round the corner again and slowly creep towards the register. Sid ducks behind her, as if she will somehow be able to protect him from whatever horrors lurk underneath those cloaks.

Mickey looks closely at the figure that stands closest to her but can’t see anything like a face in the darkly draped hood. He (Or she? They?) extends a single hand, mottled grey skin stretched tight across a very visible bone structure. The figure, or maybe the whole group of them, makes a low hissing sound like the air is being let out of a tire.

Line of Gemini – Part 9

They rolled into the hotel around 10 o’clock and after they checked into their room, Sunny flopped down on one of the beds. “Man, I’m exhausted. I hope this silly eclipse is worth it.”

Tod sat down on the bed opposite and pulled off his shoes. Eli stayed standing. Do you really like Sunny…in that way? Eli’s thoughts were harsh and cold.

Hey, none of your business. And so what if I do?

We need to go back. I’m serious about this. You don’t know what it’s like up there. You can’t just run away from who you are.

Watch me.

Sunny tilted her head. “I’m sensing some tension in this room,” she proclaimed. “What’s going on? Talk it out.”

Eli just shrugged his shoulders, turning away from Tod and moving aside the curtain to stare out at the Nashville skyline.

“Don’t you need each other to use your powers?” Sunny tried. “What if more people try to attack us?” She got to her feet. Her voice was higher than she meant for it be, but she didn’t care. These boys were driving her crazy.

“It’s fine, Sunny,” Eli said, his tone turning cold. “Just stay out of this, okay? It doesn’t concern you.”

At his words, Sunny shrunk against the nightstand, rubbing her thumb against her knuckle. “Okay. Geez.”

“Eli – ” Tod said.

“Just shut up,” Sunny said, not even knowing why she said it. She knew Tod had just been trying to stand up for her. For some reason, she felt close to tears and she angrily turned away, staring at a picture of a purple river cutting through silhouetted trees, a sliver of a moon pasted in the upper right-hand corner. She stared at the stars sprinkled around the moon and then looked back at Eli and Tod.

Tod looked up at her, and Sunny saw the helplessness in his eyes, but she didn’t stay focused on him long before turning straight to Eli.

She looks right through me, Tod thought. Like I’m invisible.

“Of course she does,” Eli said aloud.

Sunny didn’t bother to ask, even though her stomach ached with not knowing. “Well, I’m going to bed,” she said. “Do you sleep?”

Eli nodded. “Some – “

Tod said, “We’ll just stay up and make sure that no one else is coming after us. Go to sleep.”

Sunny saw the softness in his gaze, the tender look that she must have missed a thousand times. She nodded thankfully. “Okay. Um, I’ll see you tomorrow.” After she went to the bathroom to get dressed she slipped under the covers. She’d never been afraid of the boys before, but now everything was different. She felt like she was in a room with two complete strangers. And looking up at the blank ceiling, she didn’t feel like sleeping.

Blasphemy; Part 2

Her husband decides to quit his job as an accountant to work at the group’s new soup kitchen full time. It’ll be fine, she tells herself. Her salary is enough to pay the bills, and he seems so much happier now. Who is she to take away his newfound sense of purpose?

Then, she starts finding the bank statements. Part of her is glad they never agreed to get joint accounts. All his savings start bleeding into the coffers of this group that calls itself “The New Era.” She knows what it is, but she can’t bring herself to say it.

Her husband says he still doesn’t believe in the religious stuff, but he starts to look at her like she’s a heretic. She calls around to see if there’s anything she can do, but everyone gives her the same response: “He’s a grown man; he can make his own decisions.” His mother tells her that she should be proud of all the good work he’s doing, dedicating his life to take care of the poor and elderly.

Before long some of the members of the group start talking about moving out to a compound in Arizona that The Father wants to build. Her husband says that he isn’t sure what that has to do with charity, but that he understands why everyone wants a place of their own. “People can be so judgmental nowadays,” he says.

Then one day, it happens: “Maybe there’s really something true about all the God stuff,” he says.

“I think you’re in a cult,” she tells him, and she can feel it crack the rift between them wide open. By the end of the month, they start signing the divorce papers.

She starts smoking again the day his mother calls, months later, begging her to stop him from moving out to the Arizona desert with a bunch of crazies. She tries to call him, but he’s blocked her number. She’s never considered herself a religious sort of person, but she prays for him. She prays for all of them.

Feral – Part 2

When I get him home and haul his massive grey-and-dusty-brown striped body out of the carrier, I see death sparkling in his eyes. The bit of his tail that didn’t have to be amputated flicks manically. He sinks his teeth into my wrist and as I drop him I think to myself: Yeah, that’s fair. I, too, had been pretty pissed off when I was forced to go to a hospital against my will, and I could only be held for 72 hours. Technically, I could have left Hades there forever.

He swipes his claws against my lower calf, blood blooming up slowly in their wake, and now I’m a little irritated. Because I hadn’t left him there forever. I had picked him up and given him a ride home. That was more than anyone had ever done for me.

The irritation fades quickly as he scratches the front door to be let out. My landlord, an avid bird-watcher, hates when I let Hades roam the neighborhood. “That thing is a killing machine,” he told me once. I let him out anyway, figuring he’s been cooped up for long enough. Fuck birds, what have they ever done for me?

For half the night, I try to get him to come back inside. He’s nowhere to be found. I start to wonder if this has been the final straw, if the promise of a steady source of food and shelter is no longer enough for him to stick around.

Thankfully, there’s a dead mole on my doorstep the next morning. I’m not sure how I got to a point in my life where a motionless and slowly rotting rodent on my front porch would be considered a positive, but here we are. The mole isn’t torn to shreds like Hades’ prey usually is, so I nudge it a few times with a rolled-up newspaper to make sure it’s not just stunned. Hades hangs back, pacing like he’s waiting for my reaction. I figure it’s either meant to be a gift or a threat— ‘Take me to get stuck like a pincushion again, and you’re next,’ he might be saying. I lean down to pet him behind the ears, and he allows the touch without hesitation or bodily harm.

“A bloodless kill. That takes skill, man. Good job,” I tell him. He makes a low, rough noise that sounds almost like a growl. It takes me a moment to realize that he’s purring.

Dahlia’s Secret; Part 2

“Ryan? Little Dowler, is that you? My, my, boy, have you grown!”

 

Ryan’s frown shifted into a brief grimace before he planted a courteous smile on his face and stood up to meet the newcomer.

August Elwood was a portly man, middle-aged, with a magnificent dark blond walrus mustache that nearly covered his mouth and curled upward elegantly at the tips. His head, most likely balding to begin with, was shaved and shiny, and his blue eyes twinkled as he looked Ryan up and down. Mr. Elwood had been a close friend of Ryan’s father, but the pair had had something of a falling out over half a decade before. While Ryan had not known Mr. Elwood well enough to care at the time, he could only guess that it had been some sort of business dispute. As he grew older, Ryan learned that Mr. Elwood and his father had been partners in banking—indeed, Dowler & Elwood remained to that day one of the preeminent banks of the area… despite the withdrawal of one of its founders.

“Good morning, Mr. Elwood,” Ryan said with a nod, gesturing instinctively towards the seat across from him at the table before he could stop himself.

The large man nodded in thanks before pulling up the chair. He was dressed in a fashionable black morning coat, the buttons of his shirt straining as he took his seat. In comparison to Ryan’s tweed jacket and tan pants, Mr. Elwood cut the image of an elite on business—what a banker would need at Clydesport, however, was beyond Ryan’s guess. A waiter boy rushed forward, but Mr. Elwood was quick to wave him away with a gruff “coffee.”

“So,” Mr. Elwood started, retrieving a handkerchief from a pocket and wiping his bald head, “what has it been? Three years? Four?”

Ryan smiled politely but offered no reply. Luckily Mr. Elwood was not looking for one, as he simply nodded sagely at the young man’s silence and continued: “Too long. How’s your father doing, by the by?”

“Well.”

In truth, Ryan had no idea how his father was doing—not for nearly two years now. After undertaking his current job, Ryan thought it far better to remove himself from any sort of home environment. What Mr. Elwood’s words did do, however, was make him wonder; wonder about his father, his mother, and Mary. It was hard to keep the smile plastered on his face as the old banker took his coffee with a muffled “thank you” from the serving boy.

“Good, good.” Mr. Elwood drew from another pocket a silver hip-flask, which he proceeded to upend over the porcelain cup. “Of course, I’ve seen Edward out and about. Good man, your father. Respectable.”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed behind his stained spectacles. “What brings you out to Clydesport so early, Mr. Elwood?”

Ryan’s question seemed to catch the older man by surprise, and he nearly coughed as he lowered his drink. Before he could answer, however, Ryan continued. “Surely an expansion out here would be a waste? No need for banks while fishermen are happy to sleep on stuffed cots.”

Mr. Elwood chuckled, but his face visibly tightened. “Oh, nothing special… a deal that I would like to be present for.”

Though his words were offhanded, it was easy to guess that Elwood was hiding something. Ryan pondered this for several moments, but did not want to push the subject—he was too, after all—and so took the older man’s words with a nod and turned his gaze out over the cresting waves.

There was an awkward silence between the two, which ended when Mr. Elwood seemed to spot several suited men that he knew further down the pier. The banker’s farewell was hurried, but its sincerity puzzled Ryan as the older gentleman rose from his chair and bustled away with a nod.

Blasphemy; Part 1

Her husband tells her that he’s found god and that he’s working at that old folks home next to the bank. Not the real god, he says. That’s all metaphorical bullshit he uses to make a point, he says. C’mon Laura, don’t give me that look, he says.

Her love looks at her with a fire in his eyes that she hasn’t seen since they met back in college. He talks about all the charity work his new guru does, all the good he’s trying to spread around in this awful world. She mistakes the feeling bubbling up in the pit of her stomach for pride.

He starts going to meetings at an old church on Dogwood Street that’d been renovated into a house. He starts bringing home pamphlets and thin, vanity-published books with titles like “The Prophetic Soul” and “A New Era of God’s Light” that all read like cookie cutter philosophy steeped in gibberish and presented as gospel. Her husband tells her that all the religion stuff doesn’t matter, it’s the charity work he’s interested in. He defiantly doesn’t think this guy is really capital-g God. She figures he’s a smart man, too smart to get involved with something he can’t handle.

She goes to a meeting with him, once. A few dozen people sit around a bony man with wild brown hair who calls himself The Father. He tells them about the design of the universe and smiles at her like he’s got every answer to every question she’s ever had. For a moment, she believes that he might. When reality seeps back in, she feels like she’s been dunked in ice water. When they get back home she locks herself in the upstairs bathroom and smokes the half-pack of Marlboros that she’s been keeping hidden under the sink—one-by-one. She puffs the smoke out the little bathroom window, the way she used to back in High School; if she focuses on the burning in her lungs then everything feels like it’ll be okay.

Feral; Part 1

The veterinarian has thick, wire-rimmed glasses and he fidgets with the bandages on his hands when he takes me back to the examination room. While I sign the paperwork for my cat’s yearly shots and check-up, he clears his throat to get my attention.

“Uh, Ma’am. Miss Hughes, uh, I think—” I stare at him and tap the pen in my hand against the metal exam table. He clears his throat again. “I think your cat might be a bit…Feral.”

“And?” I ask.

“That means he might never be as tame as the average cat, especially if he was caught as an adult…” I know what it means, prick, I think. He says it slow, enunciates like he’s talking to a six-year-old whose puppy started foaming at the mouth.

“Is there anything else wrong with him?” I ask.

“Ah, no. Otherwise, he seems to be in perfect health,” he says, picking at the edge of one of his bandages. I feel a sharp stab of pride.

I leave the office quickly, with my hissing cat carrier and the pamphlet on cat behavior that the vet ever-so-kindly staples to my receipt. Once we’re in the safety of my car I say, “He acts like I don’t know what kind of animal lives in my own home.” The cat carrier strapped into the passenger seat yowls in agreement. “That’s right, Hades. Total asshole.”

I adopted Hades two weeks after I stuffed all of my shit into suitcases and moved out of my parent’s house. (“Adopted” here means “ran across four lanes of traffic to pick him up off the side of a highway.”) I named him for the fact that, when I found him, he looked like he had dragged himself out of the deepest part of the Underworld. I have never had a roommate who liked him. I have never dated someone who liked him. I have never met another human being who liked him.