The rock where my sister died dominated the landscape like a giant defrocked mushroom.

My parents were standing beside me, waiting for my response as I looked up at the seaweed and the striations. I wasn't sure what they wanted me to feel.

"It's cold," I said.

"We were just up on that ledge," said mom. "The tide was coming in, but the sun was setting and we wanted to watch it."

"Thought we'd just wade back to shore afterwards," added dad.

"But I lost my balance and slipped. Pregnancy does that to you sometimes, messes with your inner ear....

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The snow had hardened overnight and was crisp now. It wasn't what you would call a cold day and Fran had left her jacket unbuttoned. She was looking at the children off in the distance.
"I'd forgotten that it was today."
Alan was looking farther away.
"I wasn't looking forward to it or anything."
He reached in his pocket and found and empty packet of cigarettes.
"Dammit."
"When did they start doing it?"
"I don't know, maybe 3 or 4 years ago."
"Do you remember the first one?"
"No. It's just a thing that happens."
She felt very bad then...

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I jumped.

I know it was dumb but at the time I didn't really think I had any other choice. Besides, it's not like I really thought about it. I just did it. Just took that leap. Stepped off the edge without looking down first. He was coming after me and my instinct took over and I am now lying in the bed that I made.

Of course I had the choice of socking that guy at the bar, the one who chased me, the one weighing about 300 pounds and all of that muscle. Of course I could have...

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"Quack quack quack!"

*Translation: OH NO! BP!

"Quack quack quack quack."

*Translation: I'll have to move to another pond now...

"Quack quack..."

*Translation: Stupid #$#@%$%$#^#$ humans.

"Quack quack quack..."

*Translation: Or maybe I'll just steal all their rubber duckies. See how they like losing something.

"QUAAAACKKK!"

*Translation: MWAHAHAHAHHAHAHA

Mr Duckie went to become the Robin Hook of all ducks, stealing rubber duckies from all the human children and all the grownups who still like flotation toys. Right now he has a large organization, SOPWRD (Save Our Pond With Rubber Duckies) and has declared Ernie from Sesame Street as Duck Worlds...

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If I had a box full of pounds from every time someone said if I had a pound for every time
It would probably have like £50 in it
Because although that's a common phrase
It doesn't come up THAT often
Think about it
How many times have you actually heard someone use that phrase
Probably like fifty
Yeah?
I thought so
So next time
Put a pound somewhere you can forget it
And then when you find it
You'll remember this story
And that way
As long as you are alive
So am I
And if you told it...

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Gradually.

That was the secret, wasn't it? Build up their trust or indifference, either one would do, like in that fable about the mouse and the lion. First it was hello over the mail as they each made their way back to their separate apartments, next? Why, after months of chit chat, it was coffee shared in the buildings laundrymat. More chance meetings, more talk about incidentals, info on her fake bio. There was no need for him to learn of her unpleasant past. He would only get the wrong idea.

It wasn't really lying, not when she was honest...

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"I hate you! Get out of my face!"

Wow. That's just the way any teenage girl wants to start her day: the most popular guy in school declares in front of the entire gym class that he hates her guts.

Well, that's just the story of my life these days. Everyone who's anyone hates me. As if to emphesize that point, a red ball crashes into my face, knocking off my glasses.

"Simmons! You're out!" the gym teacher's voice echoes though the gym.

So, I go settle on the bleachers with the rest of the people out of the most...

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The power of flight could be transferred.

When Marisa first discovered this, she was thrilled. As far as she knew, other 'birds' could only fly themselves, the envy of other humans. Being part of the elite wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Envy was a problem. Bitterness led to hate led to violence.

Her mother had told her to hide her abilities, that others would fear and resent her. But this new ability changed everything; didn't it? Instead of hating her, she could grant that power to others. What wouldn't those stranded on the land give to be...

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"Constellation of freckles."

I made a face. "Oh, that's going on the list."

She nodded with a degree of authority - she hadn't needed me to tell her it belonged on our list of paticularly purple prose, our list of phrases that were to be avoided at all costs.

"Can you even get a constellation of freckles?"

"Well, of course you can, it's an arrangement - it's the implication I resent. That freckles are like stars - who'd have starry freckles? You can't wish on a freckle."

"You could. I think that could be quite a romantic scene."

"Depends on...

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Heating nothing as I refrigerate.

Eating nothing as my body preserves.

We eat and are ultimately eaten.

Preheated, chilled and given to grubs.

We are products for sightless feeders.

Put a tag on me and ship me in a box.

Deliver me to the earth, to be opened up.

Reclined, collapsed, softened and served.

This oven of nothing is heated anyway.

I stare at the flames to assert my intention.

I am alive for now. For now.

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