I looked at the passport, and then back up at the woman standing in front of me.
"Are you serious?" I asked, a puzzled look on my face.
She looked sad.
"What is to be funny?" she said, her broken English somehow endearing.
"I don't know how they do things in..." I turned her passport over, and looked at the country name listed. It took up three lines, and many of the letters just looked like squiggles to me. "...your home country, but over here we do things differently."
"Is me!" she smiled, and I felt my tough exterior melting...
I stood on the old wooden bed I always slept in. There was always a window up high and I would always look up to it at noon and see the clock chime. There were so much out there waiting for me to learn. I wanted to go out there, explore the world, make real friends. But I couldn't. My name is Ginnadi Mistaikov. My anonymous parents dropped me to an orphanage when I was very young because they thought I would make a fool of them because of my skinniness and ugliness.
The matrons in the orphan always called...
Heavy midnight. The crawl of the planchette under our fingertips. The triptych was coming alive. One creature sprang from the painted panel. A beast, horned and elephantine, illuminated by the moon through the cellar window.
It spoke to us through the board:
“Extradimensional bovine dreamfeeders graze upon fronds that sprout from the heads of sleepers. These dreams—long, lush, iridescent fancies rooted in neuronic soil and flowering up into the night—are their food.
“The beasts lumber through a meadow of musing at night, their jaws drooling plasmic sludge, their snorts ruffling moppet heads from across the chasm of dimension. They pass...
A bathroom break. A broken TiVo. Who would have thought that in the two minutes that it takes to pee he would have tore the TiVo from the wall and promptly thrown it out the window. On the other hand, there would be no need to rush the bathroom breaks anymore.
A long sigh escaped my mouth as I suddenly realized that she saved me. Saved me from the meaningless drone that is the TV. All those sitcoms, so little value. And yet, I hated her. Hated that I would no longer be able to waste hours watching re-runs of...
I held it at arm's length. The would seemed to shake as I looked over the orb. My thoughts started to take a turn for the worse. I invision the sky grew dark and I alone in a vast ocean the orb was what I think was the sun storm clouds started to gather and the sea became rougher, I held the orb there still at arms length, then without warning the world went dark and the noise of the waves left me to be alone still with the orb.
In hindsight, the solution was simple. But Tim hadn't thought that five minutes ago.
The boy pounded the keyboard furiously; letters, numbers and symbols flashing across the screen.
Dave peered over the other boys shoulder, tentatively.
"Are you sure you can do this?" he asked.
Tim ignored this comment. Of course he could do it. Yes, they would detect the hack in a matter of minutes, but he never doubted his ability to circumvent their security before then.
He began to type faster, his fingers a blur.
Dave stepped back, sweat beginning to bead his head. If they could get...
'Kenya.'
I looked up from my book. 'Huh?'
'Kenya.'
'Can I what?'
'No, the country. Kenya.'
'Yeah, okay, in Africa. What about it?'
'We found him there. He's working in an aid camp for Somalian refugees.'
'Him? Who?'
'You know who I'm talking about.'
I put the book down, forgetting it. 'How certain are you of this? There can be absolutely no mistake, understand?'
'Positive identification. No question.'
'Anecdotal or visual? We need to be sure.'
'Oh, absolutely visual. A low flying drone picked him up leaving a market. He had a couple of bags of veggies and a rack...
Maybe we all do. Maybe we all did. Precious things like our youth framed by handle bars, the hole dug beside the roots.
When I first got the hang of whistling, I sang at the birds. But I was just the needle through which they thread. Winter was rolling down those cooling autumn hills. The flocks were heading south for those mountains.
There was gold in those mountains, precious like the air between a frame.
I am in Palm Springs the sun the haze the people I am in focus everything behind me is a blur an attractive sexy blur. I am in focus, focus with a lower case f. I want to tell you something I want to tell you what it feels like all hot and steamy the way chilled alcohol burns and tingles demands more my throat loose my toes free the smell of grass the smell of pools. I want to tell you something something about time about memory about thinking that things would never end never get bad I want...
"What the hell does that mean!"
Rena tried to understand the words on the paper clutched in her hand as she curled up on the couch. "Gram?" she whispered into the phone, "What did they say?"
"Oh, just a little of this and that, you know, dear. When you get old, they all end up sounding the same. It's always something, honey."
"Geez." Rena breathed for a moment. "I don't even know what to say, Gramma. I wish it wasn't like this. Do you think you'll be able to come visit this year?" Rena immediately regretted the question; it just...