Session June 17, 2017

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We had known one another for many years and shared office space now.
by MD

In grade school we were known as the three musketeers - or sometimes the three stooges. But that was all right - Sam, Pat and I were kindred spirits. We did everything together. So it seemed only natural that when "big tobacco" recruited all of us to work in their marketing department, we were anxious to "keep the team together" as it were. And that's how it transpired that the situation which resulted in the accompanying photograph came about.

We had known each other for many years and shared office space now. When our supervisor, Mrs. Bitterly, came into the office she led the camel directly to our doorway. Sam, Pat and I exchanged glances, but maintained our demeanor for our boss.

"I want you three to take Humphrey here for a walk. Learn his ways. Make him part of your group. And facilitate this new mascot," Mrs. Bitterly gestured towards the camel, who remained seemingly unimpassive, "so that he becomes the face of our cigarette brand."

We three did as instructed, with one modification: We changed his name to Joe. We led Joe into the desert and soon our threesome became a quartet. In fact, we decided then not to return - ever - to our jobs. And that is why our employers were forced to create a caricature for their mascot, and why Sam, Pat and I are learning how to spit. We want to be just like Joe when we grow up.

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Despite disfranchisement, the aristocracy retained some wealth.

By CC

Baron Toby von Frankfurter and his wife, Lou, were amongst the aristocracy who survived disfranchisement on October 5, 2014. In fact, as they liked to say, we didn’t just survive, we thrived! Robert insisted that in fact they throve, but Lou said don’t be old fashioned! It’s a new world now! They commemorated the day with a special photograph taken by a local cheese-maker who happened to be passing by in their old Bentley, which they had raffled off the week before in order to buy groceries. They were looking forward to slimming and felt this was the natural approach and the healthiest. The cheese maker gave them a small round of underripe cheddar and went on his way. They had gone home after the photo, hand in hand, walking down the country lane that used to belong to them but now belonged to the local council.  Robert said, isn’t it great that we can keep our most useful clothes! Lou said, who need evening gowns anyway, as she splashed through a puddle in her boots. They kissed as they passed the manor house and went to the shed out back where they had their cots and camp stove. The stars twinkled brightly overhead as the villagers held a celebratory party in the manor house. The next morning it lay in a smoking ruin, the lawn reeking of beer and chips. Robert looked out of the shed and smiled as the sun rose in the east.

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Trent looked nervously out the window at the hovering silver disk.
by TNT

Trend looked nervously out the window at the hovering silver disk. 

"It's OK folks - I'll get this one," his little brother Alec chirped at the assembled family. Alec went into the garage where his small jet aeroplane was parked. he jumped in and flew off after pulling a few wheelies and donuts in the driveway to loud roars. 

"Well, I guess that'll take care of those pesky aliens from the 4th dimension. They have no green cards and besides, Earth is full. No room for immigrants," said Trent.  Trent grinned maliciously and added "unless they are tourist - edible tourists welcome!"  

The family relaxed and laughed. Alec  was gone - one less human to feed!

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"Why did the Colonel bring you here today?," she asked.
by CT

We stand in a group for a photo shoot. We're so excited because Colonel Sergeant specifically asked us to join the day's fun. None of us are aware of the rising smoke behind us, as the Army photographer and her crew positions us - just so. 

"Why did the Colonel bring you here today?," she asked. 

We shrug. We're not sure.

"Target practice," one of her crew says.

Session June 3 2017

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He sounded like her father, promising impossible things because he wanted to believe.
by CRT

"Fairies are 
real, ya know."  His 
hair 
tousled by the 
breeze, his 
eyes sparked with 
mischief, his 
smile 
curved 
upward 
invited her to his 
world. She 
smiled.

"Oh," she 
thought. "He 
sounded like her 
father, 
promising 
impossible things 
because he 
wanted to 
believe." She 
sighed.

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Dust storms and forest fires were playing hell with the solar grid.
by MD

Rameses looked to the sky and spread his arms in exasperation. Dust storms and forest fires were playing hell with the solar grid. 

"Oh great god Ra," he chanted. "We've built your shrine in the desert, the dwelling place of the sun, to honor you and follow your commands. But, Ra," Rameses continued, "I'll be damned if I, your high priest, your chosen one, can figure out what the hell you are thinking. This is the desert! Nothing grows here. There's no water. And your shrine is now littered with the sarcophagi of the workers who've died in building this edifice. What are we going to do? You see the fires - it has destroyed the forest we planted at your command. You see the dust storms. The sand is eating away at the carved friezes. What is it you want from us?" Rameses fell prostrate and beat his arms and legs on the sand.

Just then, the skies opened up, lightning crackled and torrents - no sheets - of water rained down. Within minutes, the Nile overflowed and completely inundated the land, the shrine and Rameses himself.

"Oh, now I get it," he gurgled with his dying breath. "You wanted a condo, not a shrine. Sorry for the mix-up, great god Ra." Rameses breathed in the muddy water and abandoned his spirit to his gods.

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Maybe there were never rules at all. Maybe all we have are habits.

by TNT

Tiger Sharks

She was on vacation at the beach when she observed the tiger sharks in the water - she didn't want to swim there anymore so she walked down the pier towards the Ramada. There was no-one around. The day was balmy and tropical. Best of all she didn't see any tiger sharks in the water. Tiger sharks weren't usually dangerous and didn't attack humans very often but she'd rather err or swim somewhere safe. 

She sat at the end of the pier under the Ramada and dangled her feet in the turquoise water. After a while she leaned back against a post and closed her eyes. The lapping water lulled her into a waking dream where she dreamed she saw people in the water looking up at her expectantly and they were waiting. Waiting for me? To do something? What? She asked herself. What did all these faces expect of her?

She dreamed she slipped down into the water and joined the faces. They smiled and clapped. Then she looked closer at their mouths full of needle sharp teeth - they were the tiger sharks coming to haunt her dreams like ghosts. She had crossed the barrier of human self-consciousness and sense of individuality into the world of creatures inhuman.

Maybe there never were rules at all about this - maybe all we have are habits. The habit of being humans - one step beyond human. Only a habit.

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Without moving your head or finger, close your right eye.

by KL

We looked at each other and did not see. We faced each other with the same face and did not see.

Inside our heads we dreamed, and our dreams grew out of our heads and blossomed.

We wore our dreams like crowns of flowers and were beautiful.

You, I thought. Do you hear me? Do you know me? I thought.

The smell of crowns was heavenly.

The colors infused a deeper layer of my skin and I knew she glowed. 

Are you me? I wondered.

Are you me? She wondered.

Without moving your head or finger, close your right eye.

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 It’s time to cook dinner, she said.

By CC

John Herbert Smithson had been cross dressing for about 5 years and considered himself pretty good at it. He was so good at it that, when he went to the café downstairs, he had to hide his face in a newspaper, both to stave off advances, and to spare passers-by the cognitive dissonance of seeing his craggy nose and straggly grey beard sprouting beneath a glossy blond wig. 

Ethel, his wife, was growing less tolerant. She often said he had a multiple personality disorder, but he knew who he was, all right. He just liked to pretend. Life would have been a lot easier if he had been born a woman, he thought privately to himself. 

One day he said it aloud, tossing his blond mane as he stepped out the door on his way to the café. He shook the Wall Street Journal out of his bag and lifted it up in front of his face. He felt admiring glances falling on him and basked privately in the glow of being desirable. But suddenly a chill shadow descended as the bulk of Mrs. Smithson appeared at his side. 

“It’s time to cook dinner,” she said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Then you can wash up. Then the bathroom needs mopping.” Suddenly she ripped the paper away from his face. A chorus of groans erupted from nearby diners, and a thin scream wafted across the room from a distant table. John Herbert stood up angrily, tore off his wig and followed Ethel upstairs. Later, after he had murdered her, cleaned up and fixed his hair, he went downstairs to a neighboring café and enjoyed a pleasant evening reading the Washington Post.