Captain Sarah Brighten, a seasoned military officer, stood at the head of the secure interrogation room. The atmosphere crackled with tension as the door swung open, revealing the bound and formidable figure of a captured alien soldier. His towering presence and intense gaze sent a chill through the room. Sarah, known for her unwavering determination, locked eyes with the alien soldier as she approached the table. Her sharp gaze met his unwavering stare, and a silent battle of wills ensues.

CAPTAIN SARAH BRIGHTEN (intense)

"We know you're not alone. Your mission, your presence on Earth. Tell us who else is here and what you're planning."

The alien soldier, his metallic armor glistening under the harsh lights, maintained a stoic silence. She leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the alien soldier across the table. She had spent hours studying his behavior, analyzing his responses, and formulating her questions meticulously. This was her opportunity to extract crucial information.

CAPTAIN SARAH BRIGHTEN (sternly)

"Who sent you here? What is the purpose of your mission on Earth?"

ALIEN SOLDIER (resolute)

"I am bound by my allegiance to remain silent."

Captain Brighten furrowed her brow, determined to break through the alien soldier's defenses.

CAPTAIN BRIGHTEN (pressing)

"Tell me about your species. Are there others like you? Are you part of an invasion?"

ALIEN SOLDIER (defiant)

"Our existence and purpose are not for your kind to comprehend."

She persisted, her voice tinged with frustration, as she attempted to peel away the layers of secrecy.

CAPTAIN SARAH (with intensity)

"What are your plans on Earth? Are you gathering intelligence, seeking resources, or plotting something more sinister?"

ALIEN SOLDIER (revealing no vulnerability)

"You will not find the answers you seek from me."

Her frustration mounting, Captain Brighten leaned back, reassessing her approach. She sensed there was more to uncover, but the alien soldier's resolve was unyielding.

CAPTAIN SARAH BRIGHTEN (curious yet determined)

"Tell me about your technology. How advanced is your civilization? Can you travel between galaxies?"

ALIEN SOLDIER (evading)

"Such knowledge is beyond your comprehension. It is not meant for human minds."

Her last question loomed before her, a risky gamble that could reveal more than she had anticipated.

CAPTAIN SARAH BRIGHTEN (cautiously)

"Are there others like you hiding among us? Blending in, concealing their true identities?"

ALIEN SOLDIER (remaining guarded)

"You will never discover our kind. We are adept at assimilation."

Captain Brighten sighed, realizing that their conversation had reached an impasse. The alien soldier's stoic resistance had frustrated her, leaving her with more questions than answers.

She relaxed her posture for a minute and as if by habit stretched her hands across the table, little realizing that her fingers were brushing against his. In that instant, a powerful surge coursed through both of them. They froze, eyes widening in simultaneous realization. The alien soldier's eyes flickered with a mix of astonishment and relief. Sarah's face mirrored the same reaction. An unexpected impulse seized her. She intertwined her hands with the alien. A surge of electricity pulsed through them, causing momentary disorientation.

Captain Brighten felt a sudden shift within herself in that fleeting moment as if a veil had been lifted from her consciousness. She gasped, her eyes widening in astonishment as she glanced down at her hand, now sporting a faint blue tattoo, matching the alien soldier's. It was a shocking realization, her human facade fading away to reveal her true nature.

Emotions surged through her, including disbelief, confusion, and a profound sense of self-discovery. She locked eyes with the unknown soldier, and in that shared gaze, their identities merged, forging an unbreakable connection that transcended the boundaries of their previous understanding.

CAPTAIN SARAH BRIGHTEN(whispering)

"No... you're one of us. How is this possible?"

ALIEN SOLDIER (genuinely surprised)

"No.. you're one of "us". I thought I was the last of our kind on this forsaken planet."

Sarah released her grip, her mind racing to comprehend the revelation. The barrier that had once separated them as adversaries now became the foundation of their connection. How did she know that the touch of their hands would unravel the enigma, bridging the gap between captor and captive, and revealing the startling connection that would reshape her understanding of herself and the world around her?

CAPTAIN SARAH BRIGHTEN (confused)

"Who are you really?"

He replied, "I was going to ask you the same..."

"How is it that you are suddenly speaking our language?"

"Again I was going to ask you that as well..."

"What? No. I'm speaking English just like you are right now..."

"Angleesh? What's that? Right now you are speaking Veruthian."

"Verudian? Isn't that a color or something? Is that the language you're speaking? Impossible!"

But deep down she knew that he was speaking the truth. OMG.

"Wait a min. If you're not speaking English... Then am I speaking in your native tongue?!"

"Yes. That's exactly right."

She looked across the room. Behind the glass walls, her teammates were staring at her with puzzled expressions.

Oh no. This does not look good. What do I do now? Fuckkk.

You once told me: It is time for you to take charge because I won’t be around for much longer.

But how do I take charge with uncertainty prowling each corner

When day breaks soon to be withered

When the alarm clock perpetrates the heinous crime of robbery

Stripping away the essence of euphoria in mockery.

Awakened by the sound of chimes rather than the pitch of your voice.

I cannot escape the deafening silence your absence forges.

As if the wreckage constructed four new walls of complete isolation,

I beg you for the motivation to march through this museum of disappointment.

Please do not take any vacations my guardian angel.

I held your hand long enough to memorize the creases of your calloused palm

And within a blink of an eye, it turned cold and pale.

Time, I attempted to make it, save it, and kill it but there was never enough of it

To express my appreciation for your mere presence.

Time, it pledges to heal all wounds, yet I still see your face in every cloud

Your reflection in every window

The replay of have a good day courses through my veins at the break of dawn

When the alarm clock strikes to obliterate happiness

Like a trophy engraved with the words, “I will be okay.”

Mom and I will be okay.

Until we meet again.

Sarah thought she might be sick as she stared at the small, white stick that rested on the bathroom counter. Her hands shook. She set the timer.

03:00. 02:59. 02:58…

She was an idiot. Plain and simple. Really, how could she have allowed this to happen? How could she have been so reckless? This wasn’t her, not really. She was a good girl. The kind of girl that never missed a lecture and always participated in class. What had she been thinking?

02:43. 02:42. 02:41…

Sarah’s stomach twisted uneasily, almost as if someone was tying her insides into knots. Her breath caught in her chest. Her hand clutched at her throat. This couldn’t be happening. Not right now. She had way too much she had to do before something like this could happen. She had another year before she finished undergrad; her summer was supposed to be spent prepping for the LSAT.

02:36. 02:35. 02:34…

How would she tell Kyle? They’d barely been together two months. What they had wasn’t serious. It was just supposed to be something casual and fun, something neither one of them had ever indulged in before. They were both experimenting, testing out the waters before they went out into the real world in a little over a year. He deserved to know, though, didn’t he? It’s not like he was a bad guy.

02:21. 02:20. 02:19…

Sarah’s hand drifted down to her abdomen. She pressed her palm against it gently. This was not how she intended to do this. She’d had a plan; it had been a really good one, too. A smart one. But plans change, and clearly hers was going to have to. She’d figure it out, though, wouldn’t she? She wasn’t stupid—at least, not most of the time. It’s not as if she’d be the first young woman to have a baby while she was still in college. She’d go to her academic advisor; they’d come up with a plan, one that was feasible. This didn’t have to be the end of the world, not entirely.

01:50. 01:49. 01:48…

Oh, God. Her parents. They were going to kill her. They’d both warned her against this very situation. They weren’t naïve enough to think that she’d never have premarital sex. That wasn’t it. But they’d told her to be safe. To always use protection. To never take any unnecessary risks, no matter how in lust or love she felt she was. They’d ensured that those words were ingrained into her mind. How had she forgotten, even for one singular moment?

01:32. 01:31. 01:30…

Sarah heard the front door of her apartment open. It was Talia, her roommate. She’d gotten home from class early. Sarah pushed the bathroom door closed and locked it. She loved and trusted Talia like a sister, but this was something she had to do on her own. She needed time to process this by herself, even if it was only for five extra minutes.

01:17. 01:16. 01:15…

How in the world was she going to be a mom? She could barely take care of herself, let alone a tiny human that would be entirely dependent upon her. Would Kyle help? She thought he would. She’d been smart enough, at the very least, to pick a guy that was worth his salt. He wasn’t someone who would just shirk his responsibilities. After all, this baby would be just as much his as it would be hers.

01:04. 01:03. 01:02…

Sarah looked in the mirror at her reflection. Her skin was light enough as it was, but right now it looked nearly translucent. She pinched her cheeks to bring some color back into them. She needed to get herself to relax, at least a little bit. What was done was done. She’d be helping no one if she keeled over because she hadn’t taken a proper breath since the timer started.

00:47. 00:46. 00:45…

She still planned to go to law school. Sure, it would be more difficult now, what with a baby in tow. But there were daycares on university campuses. It’s not like this was the 1950s. And she had to believe that Kyle would be nearby. He was a law school hopeful, just like she was. She never thought she’d pick which law school to go to based on a guy, but she was quickly realizing that she didn’t really have any other option. She would need all of the help she could get and she wasn’t too proud to ask for it.

00:22. 00:21. 00:20…

Sarah stared at the screen of her phone. The seconds kept ticking by. She’d turned the pregnancy test face-down. She couldn’t bring herself to look at it until the three minutes were up. She was nervous enough already. If she’d watched for the lines on the stick to appear, she would’ve completely lost it by now and melted into a puddle on the floor.

00:10. 00:09. 00:08…

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. What in the hell was she going to do with a baby? This was crazy. Absolutely freaking insane. Sarah reminded herself to breathe. She had to. If not for her own sake, at least for the baby’s. Oh, Lord. That sort of thinking would take some getting used to.

00:03. 00:02. 00:01…

The timer beeped. Sarah jumped, then froze. Here goes. She reached for the pregnancy test. It felt exceptionally heavy in her hand. She turned it over.

There was only one line. It was negative.

Sarah felt such a sharp sense of relief that heat pricked her eyes. They became misty.

For one unexplainable second, an emptiness washed over her. She didn’t have any other word for the feeling except loss. Just as quickly as it arrived, though, it vanished.

She slid down the bathroom wall and landed on the floor with a soft thud. Her insides still felt tangled and her chest flooded with a mix of unexpected emotions.

She had been so worried, and yet, it had only been a false alarm.

Jim Bung

June 8, 2000

I was there when shouts sounded from the lower floors. I was there when they carried the battered body of our proprietor to his room. I watched as a frantic, grim faced healer marched into the room, telling the others to remain calm.

I, unnoticed, remained hidden behind a vase stand. I saw everything.

~

The night was falling and the shadows long as the last of the staff wandered away. I crept out, and began to dance. A voice that was not male came from the room.

Hesitating, I crept close. They were talking. There was one left with him. I pressed my ear to the door, careful to keep my breathing shallow. No one must hear.

"He may have said what brought the curse, not why," a lady said. Ginny. "It has something to do with the founders. Some sin of theirs?"

"Perhaps." The proprietor could think despite being injured, evidently. "Can we trust the ghost? The first spirit was of a human, the second, not."

"He said he was there."

Ah, that'd be Pennyblighter. Always complaining and making vague moans about the curse, him. Rather dramatic for a kitchen boy.

Ginny went on, "I see. So what was the sin of theirs?"

Silence. Appeared to be thinking. I knew something more, but there was no need for it to be said. Let them figure it out if they could.

" 'whole nights together,' " the proprietor suddenly said. Was he...sad? I heard Ginny gasp in what might have been horror. The proprietor sighed, then said, "I think we know. Then who laid the curse?"

"The Church wouldn't have, they aren't that kind of people," Ginny said.

I couldn't take it anymore. In a fit of anger, I turned the knob and marched boldly in. Ginny turned to glare, the proprietor jumping in bed.

"Of course they might," I said hotly. "Plenty aren't perfect, you know. It might have been a back alley thing, or something!" My eyes glittered with the idea, but it made the proprietor look sick.

"I know," he said, shushing me with a glare when I made a triumphant sound. "but in order to lay a curse one has to be very deep into the evil side of the spiritual world."

I delicately ignored his last comment. "Well, it makes total sense that the Church would do it, they have been our enemies for years...Guys, just admit it. God made the rainbow. He's on our side."

"What of Sodom and Gomora?" the proprietor levied evenly.

"That was unjust!" I said triumphantly.

"If so, that would mean He is capable of acts that are unjust. That would make him as broken as the rest of us," the proprietor said calmly.

My face became red, and I snapped. "SHUT UP!" I screamed. "You're wrong! So very wrong!"

I saw him smile faintly, and spat his direction. "Curse," I hissed. I dashed out the door, shaking.

"Jim!" Ginny's firm voice roared. "You show respect!"

"Just don't come any deeper! The secret is ours!!!"

There is a sin

coming up second

to rape

and sitting right above

murder

and it’s the cardinal sin

of being boring.

There is no shortage

of boring damned people,

an extreme surplus of them.

They have been ruining

the world

and collapsing civilizations

since their have been civilizations

worth collapsing.

Interesting men

have always gone to war

to run their bayonets through

other interesting men

because of the needs of

boring men to feel

adequate

to grab at other

sources of power due to

their lack of being something on

their own.

Boring men

destroy interesting women

so a man with more

doesn’t steal them away

and leave him with

his dick in his his hand

and boring women

erode interesting men

from the inside

because when they

fell

In love with him for his

ways

They didn’t expect it

to be so hard to

outshine him

so they decide he

is an oppressor

and start to sharpen the

guillotine slat.

Boring people wage

terrorism

on the others of us

every day with their woes

and their boring cancerous

conversation and it chews

at the rest of our contentment

with living.

We see their rules

and their governments

and their sycophantic societies

and we decide we’d rather

be somewhere else

because if they are right

it’s too much to bear

being wrong.

So we grab

interesting tools

built by interesting

gunsmiths

and we cross the

crevasse

of fear and unknowing

and make an interesting scene

for someone else

to find

and wonder:

’How could someone do

something like that?

What a coward.

Was he sick?

Look at these scribblings

on every surface

and all those books!

He must have been sick!

Yes. He surely was.

My goodness.

Goodness me.

Anyway,

I have to get this over with.

The game is on at 7.

We (they) are playing the

(Whatever’s).’

cardinal sin numero dos.

she saw the light at the end of the road.

her heart has carried too big of a load.

her only escape is a narrow path.

she has already calculated the math.

walk a little straighter keep moving forward.

a better life is waiting in the light she heads toward.

the mental and physical abuse has cost her too much.

never thought she would escape, so close but still can't touch.

she can see the light it up ahead.

good thoughts have filled her head.

her new life will soon be shaped.

she just has to squeeze through her narrow escape.

Without a name, I tread into -

the solstice of the soul,

where dreams—unfurled like petals—drip

in pools of pearl and coal.

I wander - through parentheses

and climb the ampersand,

where hearts writhe on the canvas of

life's intricate command.

Of Sun, the orchestrator, of

each atom's dance - I'm drawn

into the silent symphony

that weeps till dusk is gone.

Look! Truth is not - a simple line

but patterns, and they twist,

in rhythms, rhymes, and reckonings,

in fog and amethyst.

A universe in lower case,

no capital can cage,

inside our hearts, the stardust speaks

beyond the written page.

One need not shout to touch the sky,

or voice the silent prayer,

the whispers of the heart will find

their way to somewhere There.

Love is more thicker than forget -

more thinner than recall,

our souls, they hold the mystery

that dwarfs this earthly hall.

In the hollow of the humming city, once painted with whispers of forgotten dreams, there existed an enigmatic alleyway, aptly named Destiny's Elbow. Along this narrow path, danced the shadows of forsaken spirits and resonated the echo of uncaptured time. This was the stage of the story of Iris, the subtle enchantress of destiny's grand tapestry.

One night, under the quivering fingers of the silver moon, the shadows bristled. A clandestine urgency punctuated the silence. Iris, with eyes reflecting the galaxy's last weeping star, found herself at the mouth of Destiny's Elbow. Around her, the nocturnal symphony of the city hummed its capricious song. Yet she knew that tonight, it sang of danger.

In her pocket, the only safeguard against the incoming tempest - a key. Not an ordinary key, mind you, but a relic from time immemorial, bathed in enigmas and carved with ancient symbols of protection. 'The Guardian of Fates,' it was called by those who knew of its existence, a celestial cipher embodying a powerful secret. A secret the whispering shadows sought.

Behind Iris, the silence shattered. An ominous figure stepped from the gossamer veil of night, eyes blazing with relentless determination. He was the herald of chaos, the seeker of control, who would, if given a chance, twist the weaves of destiny to serve his sinister whims.

"Give me the Guardian," his voice slithered into the silence, weaving a deadly charm. But Iris, the keeper of fates, would not succumb. She swallowed her fear, staring back with unyielding defiance, her heart echoing the resolute drumbeats of courage.

The chase began. Down Destiny's Elbow they danced, a macabre ballet under the voyeuristic gaze of the moon. Iris was swift, her steps a melody against the cobblestones. Yet, the hunter's determination was undying, his pace relentless, a brutal harmony to her delicate cadence.

At the end of the alleyway, she met an age-old gate. Silent, stolid, its cold countenance impassive to her plight. The key, the Guardian, hummed in her pocket. A harmonious blend of fear and hope swirled within her, giving birth to a symphony of courage. As her pursuer's laughter echoed, Iris plunged the key into the gate.

An ethereal lullaby swept across the alleyway. A spectacle of celestial magic unfurled as the ancient gate shivered under the touch of its long-lost companion. The stones trembled, the air pulsed, and a pathway opened, a portal framed by iridescent light, leading to a realm unknown.

A narrow escape, indeed. Yet, the unfathomable world that awaited her was as much a mystery as it was a haven. With a final look back, she entered, the gate closing with a sigh of finality. The figure, now just a shadow once again, stood before the silent gate, his furious roar swallowed by the music of the night.

Destiny's Elbow regained its calm, the cobblestones once again whispering forgotten dreams. The shadow-man vanished into the darkness, his presence merely a discordant note in the alley's song. And Iris, the subtle enchantress, became a legend, her story, a testament to the narrowest of escapes. The Guardian was safe, and with it, so was destiny, humming on its eternal, intricate loom.