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Tia

The door swings on its creaky hinge as me, my parents, and my brother walk into the pet hospital. I’m hit with a wave of wet dog, bird cage, and cat pee, desperately masked with several fruity smelling air fresheners. Two steps forward in and the smell of alcohol reminds us why we’re here.  Tia squirms slightly in my arms, clearly reacting to the same smells. Smells that for a Border Collie are amplified ten-fold. I look down at her gentle face as it turns up to mine. I hold her in my arms, because the leash felt wrong. She’s wrapped in a white sheet. Something to keep her warm, something clean, something new and expensive, something to show that she was noble, something to keep the dirt off her precious fur when she’s laid to rest in the ravine under the apple tree. I wonder if she knows why we’re here. I can’t tell if the light in her dark brown eyes is a question or a goodbye. I remember carrying her like this when I had just become a teenager, I thought I was so strong. She fought
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The Madonna Mission: P O S T F A C E

Over the next ten years the remaining populations of the CW and NWO gathered from across the Earth under the leadership of Adam Fismor and Martin Rocha. A representative government was established that held leaders accountable in limited offices that were checked and balanced in power. Accountability for partisanship was especially monitored and established.  The CW and NWO disbanded their organizations and united as citizens of Eden. In these ten years, construction of large interplanetary vessels began.  Two were sufficient for earth's population, which now settled at only several thousand.  A ship resembling the Madonna was constructed to carry Ava, Megan, Misty, and Brooklyn. Also aboard this ship was a crew of 20 people who would help settle Eden.  After 12 years of Cryogenic sleep the crew arrived at the entrance of the wormhole. The three days traveling through the wormhole it is rumored were spent in the company of the ICs. The 20 crew members present along with Ava, Megan,

Red Cross

Elders Reid and Walker sat in silence after having finished a long day of tracting. As they drove through a frigid Canadian snow storm, their sore legs sank deep into the warm seats of their Nissan Rogue.  “Pull over!”  Reid, a tall lanky boy in his early 20’s, pointed at a man in a red coat standing at the side of the road.  Walker, sitting in the driver’s seat, noticed the man and rolled his eyes. “Elder Reid. It’s past curfew.” Reid leaned forward, tapping quickly on his thigh as they neared the man in red. “I know, I know. But I feel good about this.”  Walker pulled the car over. “Well I don’t.”  REID ROLLED DOWN THE window, “What are you still doing out?”  Reid felt his stomach roll with worry. The name, Justus, hung from a lanyard dangling in front of the man’s red coat – a coat too thin for Canadian winters. Through a thick Nigerian accent, Justus shivered out a response, “I’m waiting to be picked up. I work for Red Cross – getting surveys.”  Justus pointed to the red cross tape

Tiny Tyrant

  The orange – well, the clementine – sits peacefully in my pocket unaware of its impending doom.  What a completely wild transformation. “Orange” to “Clementine.” It’s simply smaller and sweeter – easier to peel and cuter.  Perhaps that last note alone justifies changing the first letter of the word from “O” to “C”, but the rest seems obnoxious. Getting smaller earned the baby four more letters? Absurd.  Anyways – regardless of the name – it only has moments left to live.  Now on the table – so perfectly tossable. It will either meet its end decaying in my belly or dashed against some brick wall rotting in the dirt under a bush. Dying next to a lost dusty debit card. I’m inside and the whale-like sonic calls from my belly demands consumption.   I puncture the skin. My fingernails are short – but after years of breeding, the orange skin has lost all its strength and is only about as strong as the tootoo-like wrapping that cups a Reese’s. Perfectly peelable.  I commence my unique shedd

Three Love Songs

First is from the one that’s filled with fear, Listen close and you will likely hear Long and fond drones on the song that’s wrong: “Prove your love and read my mind right now. Hit the mark and do not ask me how Know what triggers me before I do Or I will bleed all over you. “You must live to give me what I need – Broken, faithful, thoughtless heartless steed. You should know where I want us to go Kick and prod until you know.” Second song is from my voice within; A secret silent solemn hidden hymn. Now alone I own this homely tone:  “I was young and hoped that older me Always thought and worked to keep me free. Now I’m old and lost the little boy – Shunned him for her fragile joy. “Though we fight and bite and steal and cry You will always be my little guy. Though our bond is one we cannot see We will make our selfs good company.” Third comes from the one I thought I’d lost, Her kiss and touch it came at such great cost. Blue, you flew and coo the truest tune: “We had gone our separat

The Madonna Mission: P H A S E 7

[NWO airship, picture taken from the top of a refueling tower] The crew were kept as prisoners for the remainder of Storm.  At the end of Storm season the women were escorted out of the large bunker. At the exit of the base Anita successfully broke free of the guards. She disarmed one guard and   the others put their guns down. She demanded the other women to run free. They did so. Ava begged Anita to go with them. Anita refused. Anita left Ava to find General Rocha. Ava and the other women ran and took shelter in rocks near the entrance to hide from gunfire.  WHEN ANITA GOT TO General Rocha’s quarters she found him in a drunken stupor. Anita confined him to a chair and held him at gunpoint.  — Editing Team MARTIN ROCHA: RECOLLECTION:   I’d be surprised if she understood me. “This is how you repay me for letting you leave?” Something like that. I can’t remember if I said anything else.  I wanted to provoke her, show her she didn’t frighten me. I waited for her to say something, I was r