Tuesday, August 15, 2006
BELLE LETTRe
A Belle the Cat Production * Summer‘06 * Volume Three * Issue Two
“R E S T”
When you have a world of time to relax, what do you do with it? There has not been a lot of relaxing lately. During the first half of this year, there has been quite a bit of internet browsing, house searching, unpacking, packing, job searching, thinking, meeting, eating, shopping and all the other stuff that take up time that honestly, I would probably rather spend (and would be better spent) relaxing.
So, it’s summer. Time to relax. Once upon a time, in a land far away, summer was so hot that all the animals would set aside their differences and sit at the watering hole together. Many people do not know this, but in July and August, the lions in Africa eat nothing but banana smoothies made for them by the monkey baristas.
This is especially important in mysteries. Many traditional detective stories have a scene where the detective goes over what they know. Sometimes it is with a partner over a cup of coffee, sometimes with a bartender while drinking a Pabst (note: people do not drink Pabst in real life, only in stories), and often, it is with their own thoughts as they eat Chinese food or kielbasa or a bologna sandwich. This is quite a trick of writers to give their character something to do as opposed to just sitting there and thinking (and it means they get to use the phrase 'chew thoughtfully.')
It is also important for our everyday lives. We all need a watering hole because, let’s face it (no, do we have to?) - life is not relaxing. No one is fooling themselves thinking that African lions aren’t eyeballing the young antelope at the river oxbow, trying to determine if they have enough energy in this heat to bite his little hooves off. It’s a lot of work to relax. I suppose some people (and animals) can do it more easily, but most of us are stuck trying to squeeze as much as we can out of every free second we have before someone makes meat smoothies of us. This isn’t a bad thing, I suppose, as long as no one gets heat stroke.
Special thanks to Pat, TEA, DMV, Jennifer, Rebecca and Nor for contributing to this issue.
TeMP
By S. Bartash
When building C was built, the ventilation was laid out incorrectly. This was due, so the legend went, to the fact that one of the founders wanted a salad bar and the other wanted a make-your-own- pasta bar. Since both of these were obviously needed for an office building cafeteria, the founders both kept sneaking in to the planning office and altering the blueprint until, when all was said and done, they ended up with both. However, the unconventional layout of having two such items occupying the space originally reserved for just one meant that the now-skewed layout sent the vents from the cafeteria right through the main supply closet; the long and the short of which meant that most of the office supplies smelled disconcertingly like garlic alfredo sauce.
This ended up being the tipping point for Rachel Emmy, who had retreated into the closet to escape the miserable reality of her worklife. She crouched in the far corner of the closet, between a box of discarded file folders with “archive” lazily scrawled on the side, and the Bin of Pens, a magical place where one could find hundreds of different colors of barely-working writing utensils. She sobbed into her hands as the smells of fresh Italian toppings drifted over her. It struck her how utterly purposeless her job was, what a sham the whole of Albright Company was, and how every inch of the complex was created out of this false sense of importance. What was everyone really doing here? It was all just a battle of pasta vs. salad, of one-upmanship, and what did they end up with? Rachel sniffed a dribble from her nose and choked on the beastly scent of dry erase markers and fresh marinara.
It had all stated so well. Fresh out of college, she had registered with the same temporary staffing service her sister had, and got a job as a writer at one of the largest advertising and public relations firms in the city. She thought back to the interview she’d had with her current coworker and only work-friend Nicoli and… she squinched her eyes shut at the thought of… Beatrix.
“You realize this position will never be made permanent” Beatrix had said.
‘Who says that in an interview,’ Rachel wondered now. She should have realized right then that this woman, this Beatrix, her new boss, cared for her about as much as she cared about toilet paper - glad it was there to take her shit. Rachel had
worked for Albright for six months now, and had yet to write a single press release.
“Sure, we want you to be a specialist, but really, we’re all generalists. We all have to be able to do each other’s jobs.” This translated to, “when we all go off to a conference, you have to be able to stay behind and do everything and then take the fall when it all goes to hell.”
Her head began to spin. She had been a PR intern all through her senior year. She knew about editor outreach and networking, she knew how ad layout worked, she realized the need for special events and all the planning that went into them. She impressed her interviewers with samples of brochures and articles she had created while still in college. She was excited by the prospect of working in the fast-paced agency world, and honestly, she was not afraid to do the “grunt work” that was obviously required of a new employee.
She just didn’t expect to also be asked to serve as nursemaid and caretaker to the neediest women she had ever met.
Nicoli came to Rachel Emmy one day. “Has Beatrix asked you to take her to the airport yet?”
“No. Why wouldn’t she just take a cab?”
Nicoli said, “you know, I don’t know if anyone has ever had enough guts to ask her that. Go ahead, I’m sure we’d all be interested to know.”
“Will I be reimbursed for my gas mileage?”
Nicoli just laughed.
In the car with her boss, Rachel screwed up enough courage to pose this innocent question.
“Why would I take a cab when you’re going this way anyways?” Beatrix shot back, adjusting her in hair the sun shade mirror. “We all have to look at ways to save the company money. In fact, you and I should talk about carpooling.”
Rachel gulped. “Should I fill out a mileage reimbursement form for this?”
Beatrix turned her grey eyes at Rachel. “Why would you do that? Didn’t I just say that this is a way to save the company money? It’s after hours anyway and you’re heading home.”
In her supply closet respite, Rachel wondered why she hadn’t left then. But she knew why. It would have been an admission of defeat. And Rachel was damned if she was going to quit her very first job after a matter of weeks.
The next problem came when, the very next day, she arrived to work fifteen minutes early only to find her message light blinking with no less than four messages from Beatrix.
“Rachel, can you fax the following items to me at my hotel….”
Rachel raced to Beatrix’s office, which was of course locked. She grabbed a passing janitor and had him let her in.
“Rachel, I still haven’t seen those faxes. Can you send them the moment you get it? I thought you’d be in by now. Ten minutes early is usually the norm when you’re just starting out….”
Papers in hand, she looked frantically for the hotel fax number, which Beatrix had neglected to leave on her message. After finding the name of the conference and the hotel on an email (sent by Nicoli, who had set up the reservation), she scurried over to the fax machine.
“Still waiting for those faxes. Thought you’d be in by now. You need to get a cellphone so I can get a hold of you. This is ridiculous...”
Rachel waited impatiently as the fax machine went through it’s warm up cycle.
“Hi. Just forget those faxes. Now it’s too late. Thanks.”
Rachel was just feeding the last fax into the machine at two minutes to eight when the vile dripping sarcasm of that final word sliced across the empty office.
Nicoli walked in. “Morning sunshine.”
Just then Rachel’s phone started ringing.
With a sinking feeling, she picked it up.
“Albright Company, this is Rachel.”
“Well, glad you decided to show up. You probably haven’t even listened to your messages yet, but we’ll talk about that when I get back. It’s actually a good thing you didn’t send the fax yet since those papers are incorrect. Go ahead and put this address on them and then fax them to me. I’ll be waiting...”
“Oh don’t worry about that,” Nicoli said when Rachel explained the situation with trembling lip. “That woman has no organizational skills whatsoever. With the number of mistakes she’s made on contracts and purchase orders, it’s a wonder she hasn’t ended up in jail. Don’t even
That was just in the beginning. The most recent situation, the one that had resulted in the near-destruction of a $100,000 crystal chandelier, the one that had sent Rachel into the oregano-scented supply closet, was The APE Party.
It had sounded so good on paper. The Association of Professional Entrepreneurs (APE) had decided to hold their 10th annual editor and high-end customer soirée at the chic Dolores Memorial Ballroom in the old Christenson Hotel. Beatrix kept saying she’d take over the planning as soon as she was done organizing her office (considering how many boxes of old files she kept setting out for the janitor to return to the supply closet, it seemed a never-ending task), and so it fell to Rachel to set up the cocktail hour, dinner, and evening entertainment with the hotel. Rachel had finalized the meal (after Beatrix and Nicoli went downtown to taste test various menus) and Nicoli helped her compile the guest list. It was all planned and it would be beautiful.
Rachel gave Beatrix weekly updates and smiled when she was able to answer each of her “have you done this yet” questions.
That was, until Beatrix asked, “Have you reserved the inflatable birthday cake?”
It slipped out before Rachel had a chance to stop it, “the WHAT?”
Beatrix tapped her long maroon nails on the conference table. Nicoli drew back noticeably. “This is their 10th anniversary. Don’t you think we should have something special for them? Don’t you remember the party I told you about that I went to last fall? They had a huge inflatable birthday cake at the entrance. It was what everyone was talking about.” Her attention wavered from Rachel and she drew all of her staff into her scathing glance. “We have to think about the “WOW” factor here, people. I can’t be the only one with any creativity, am I?”
So in the eleventh hour, Nicoli and Rachel called every party rental store in the area, but to no avail. Beatrix had headed out early, but sent an email from her handheld with a link to a warehouse located half way across the country. “like thiz,” said the message, and sure enough, when Rachel clicked on it, there was a huge inflatable birthday cake. Using Nicoli’s company credit card, they ordered it to be shipped overnight express directly to the hotel.
Of course, being a temp, Rachel was not able to attend the actual party, but she got a play by play from Nicoli the next morning.
“Well, I got there two hours early to help with setup, and the inflatable hadn’t arrived yet. This was actually good, since it gave me time to explain what was coming with the hotel staff. They said the only place with a tall enough ceiling was not at the entrance, but in the actual ballroom.”
Nicoli raised his hands above his head. “The ceiling is gloriously high, but hung with these strings of big, fat light bulbs, and right in the center, this huge chandelier.”
“Oh no,” Rachel moaned.
“Don’t rush me,” Nicoli said. “The early guests began to arrive, and right at the elbow of the director of APE was Beatrix. You could see her scanning the room for the cake, and I was able to dodge her for about an hour. Finally, she cornered me, and lo and behold, what should arrive to save me but the Fed Ex delivery man. I had to quickly explain to Beatrix that the cake would have to be set up in the ballroom, and so she decided that we would use it as an introduction to the director’s before-dinner speech. She went back to the director and explained that, after he said a few words about the 10th Anniversary, we had planned a special treat.”
“She told him we’d planned it that way,” Rachel told more than asked. Nicoli nodded.
“So a few hotel people help me unpack this massive nylon thing, which must have last been used out of door since it’s covered in dried mud and smells of cat urine, and we unstring no less than three fan cords. The hotel people are getting visibly agitated at this stage and are frantically trying to locate their facility electrician. But Beatrix pays them no heed and barrels forth, keeping things on schedule. She has the director on stage waiting to give his speech, we’re fighting with this mess of cords and fans, Beatrix gives us the signal and we have no choice but to plug the thing in.
“For a moment, nothing happens, but then all three fans kick in with a roar like a tornado, and sure enough, the thing rises from the floor, mesmerizing us all with its three flaccid candles that slowly grow more and more rigid. Little did we know their were actually four candles, and just as the thing hits what we think is full inflation, that last candle springs erect with a snap, knocking into the chandelier, causing it to swing back and forth perilously.”
“Oh my god,” said Rachel. “It didn’t fall.”
“No no no, but the fans blew a fuse and the whole place went dark until the generators kicked in.”
Rachel leaned back against the wall of her cubical, which swayed dangerous as she burst into laughter. “Oh my god, this is insane.”
“What is insane?” Beatrix said, rounding the corner. “Nearly loosing us the APE contract? Do
you see what comes from not planning these events carefully? I knew I shouldn’t have left a temp in charge, but I thought I could trust you with this, Rachel.”
Rachel swallowed her laughter as Beatrix slapped a pile of papers down on the desk. “This is the hotel contract. Do you think you can handle simply making a copy of this and getting it up to legal? Or do I need to do that as well.”
Rachel didn’t want to let it get to her. She wanted to be the kind of person who would fling the document back at Beatrix and tell her to shove it. But she couldn’t fight the itchiness at the back of her throat, the burning at the corners of her eyes, and so she ended up bawling in the supply closet. Amongst all the boxes of Beatrix’s old files.
Rachel wiped her nose on her sleeve. A thought flitted through her mind like a bird freed from it’s cage. She tentatively lifted the lid of the box marked “archive” and looked down at the files. Thumbing through them, she came upon one that said “earnings.”
Rachel decided that the hotel contract wasn’t the only thing she’d be making copies of and taking to legal.
The farthest hill from our house
By rebecca
The night sky shown bright and silent over the small Wyoming ranch. Stella and her grandfather sat under the quiet sky, taking turns peering into his old telescope. His large hands rested on her shoulders, warming them in the chill night, as she put her eye up to the scope and looked in. These were her favorite moments, sitting close to him, knowing that her awe at the stars above them made him smile down on her. Her "oohs" and "aahhs" were followed by his chuckling. He delighted in sharing his love of the stars with her, his greatest fan and most loyal listener. She patiently listened to every story behind the great constellations and stars they explored together. These were his favorite moments too. He would name the constellation she was looking at. She would then repeat it quietly to herself, as though it was some great secret he was passing on to her for safe keeping, secrets he shared with no one else but her. His strong hands steadied the telescope and his bright eyes were as full of wonder as hers were. His soft deep voice kept her engaged for hours, as she listened to him talk quietly about the stars, moons, planets and galaxies above. He wasn't old, not as grandfathers go, in his early fifties at the time. Their late night rendezvous with the stars were especially dear to her since they occurred so infrequently. He was often gone, working among the very planets that they gazed upon that night. He was strong and tall and had a nice face, but his eyes were what she remembered most, and always missed the most. Whenever he returned home they sparkled like that stars above at the first sight of her. That’s how she new he loved her, loved her more than the stars he shared with her. Even though she was nearly thirteen, a fact she'd been reminding her father of for weeks, she still felt like a little child next to him, all of her pre-teen angst and insecurities laid aside by his reassuring and attentive presence.
On this particular night they were out so late that her father finally came looking for them, finding them on the top of the furthest hill from the house, where the light from the ranch would not disturb their star-gazing. Neither of them noticed him as he approached, although somewhere in the back of her head she knew they were out too late and that father wouldn't be happy with either of them, but she wasn't going to say anything. And so her father came out to find them on the hilltop.
"I thought you'd be back some time ago," he said to her, expecting a reason for their lateness. She didn't have one for him. She didn't know why her grandfather had kept them out so late, not that they had a watch or anything. She had figured that her grandfather had just lost track of time and she wasn't going to remind him of her bedtime. She didn't know what to say to her father. Her grandfather didn't seem to have even noticed him yet.
"It's way past her bed-time," her father said, this time talking directly to her grandfather.
"Its not that late, Jim. " her grandfather responded, not bothering to look up from the telescope as he continued to search for their next constellation to explore.
Stella was looking at her father. Jim was looking at his father. Stella's grandfather continued looking in the telescope, making adjustments and slightly annoyed that Jim had interrupted their time together. Stella looked back and forth between the two men and then to her father for a few moments. Finally, she asked, "Just one more?"
He took a deep breath and glanced upward with a slight grimace on his face, "Okay, but I'm starting back to the house. Five more minutes. We have to get up early."
"Okay, " Stella said, trying not to look too relieved or happy.
He turned around and walked back to the house, looking up now and again and shaking his head. Her grandfather stepped away from the telescope to let her look at the constellation he had found for her. She put the scope up to her eye, closed her other eye and looked. But there wasn't anything in the scope, nothing special anyhow. Just a couple of minor distant stars. She couldn't even recall their names. She looked up at her grandfather, puzzled.
He just smiled and said, "This time I'm going to say hello. Wait until October and then watch for me. It will be dark enough early in the evening and you should be able to see it without missing your bedtime. You won't be able to miss it if you're watching for it."
She wasn't sure exactly what he meant. He would often point the telescope towards Venus and say "That's where we’re headed." Or point it at the moon and show her the spot they had landed at during his last trip, but there was no planet or moon in the scope this time. There wasn't anything in the scope. She looked again and then looked at him. He said, "Just watch and you'll see it." She took note of the telescope setting and said, "Okay." He packed up the telescope, handed it her and they walked back to the house.
As they walked slowly back to the house, emerging out of the hillside darkness into the light of the yard she wondered why he let them stay out so late. Her father and grandfather hadn't exactly agreed on how to raise her but her grandfather usually went along with her father's rules, including bedtimes. He'd never kept her out so late before. And what was so special about the bit of night sky he had shown her? Why was he going there? Where was it?
The next morning they got up early and took her grandfather to the airport. It was June and she knew he wouldn't be back for many months. She started to miss him at once.
NoRAH’S DREAMS
6/9/06
2 p.m.
The whole family was on a trip, and Brian and Donnie were there. All of a sudden I was seated in the pew of a huge church with a lot of other people. I realized, this is Sarah and Donnie’s wedding! It was a surprise they hadn’t told Lucy or me, so we were in regular street clothes.
The “production” began after a long pause that caused me to wonder if Donnie had cold feet, but I could then see the procession start in from outside—it was like 30 people long! Tons of bridesmaids, people I didn’t know, but all dressed in matching colors of pastel pink and purple (yuck!), like sweaters and stuff. This guy behind me was talking really loud and I told him to shut up as it was my sister’s wedding!
But then the wedding turned into this song and dance number! It had costumed crazy people all over, the congregation was singing and dancing, someone dressed up as Santa Claus was there, and the speaker was this guy dressed up in this huge green round fish-like costume talking like a cartoon!
Ends up Sarah had hired a group of people who put on these sorts of “shows.” I had to go to my car to get something, and it was in a parking ramp (at this point I realize the wedding is in Cleveland). I get held up by this guy with a knife and then this guy with a gun, and I am trying to make it back to the musical production called Sarah and Donnie’s Wedding but I can’t get back! I had these high-heeled boots on and the weather was just terrible, black ice stuff on the pavement. I tried to take a city bus back to the church but didn’t have any money.
By the time I got back it was over! When I was at my car I had a stack of mail I’d grabbed there, and it had the invite from the company who put Sarah’s wedding on saying to dress casually. When I got back to the church Sarah yelled at me for getting on
the guy’s case who was talking during the ceremony! She said it wasn’t supposed to be a quiet affair. I realized that at this point!
5/31/2006
5:30 a.m.
Donnie’s car didn’t work. He says to me “hitchhiker Donnie.” And I say, “no, I’ll drive you to work.” We actually end up walking. Graduation is going on and there are teenage hoodlums everywhere. Donnie babbles about my car getting painted and tipped over and I say where? What car? We walk past a hurt puppy. I am sad because I know we can’t have a puppy, but I pick it up just in case I have time to get it to the shelter. We get to Donnie’s work and I am afraid they might tell him to go home and take the day off.
Then I’m back at home, watching The Simpson’s do a parody of Fantasia with Grandpa Simpson dancing with an elephant. There is water all over the bathroom and wet towels soaking everything up. When Donnie gets home, we walk down to an ocean pier to look for the aliens. A little kid is totally getting in our way and messing with us. We choose to ignore him, but a few times, he is so annoying I physically push him.
Finally we arrive at the cruise ship. We were pretty sure the whole alien thing was a hoax, but we wanted something to do anyways. Kathy Bates is there and totally believes the aliens are real. Finally, they show up, in a big pink bubbly thing. They dump off a naked Davy Jones (from the Monkees, not the sailor) and he is played by Carapace, an English wrestler who weighs eight stone (this makes me realize that it is a hoax, since it’s not the real Davy Jones.) It flutters down messages and flies away, zooming under the water and shooting up a string of bubbles.
Kathy Bates drops a piece of gum in a revolving door and goes into the ground trying to pick it up.
Dragon Warrior III
By TEA
The Characters:
Hiro = Our Hero
Miharu = Next door neighbor to Hiro, childhood friend, one of the best fighters in the palace guard
Taro = Heavy-drinking soldier
Kumiko = Spooky, cat loving magic user
The Story Thus Far:
Hiro has been sent on a mission by the king. He and his companions are to seek out the evil Baramos, a task that Hiro’s long lost father Ortega failed to achieve. Their next step is a journey north to retrieve a key from the tower of Najima in order to open the Travel Door and start their quest.
Chapter 3:
“The Tower of Najima”
“Is there an echo in here, Miharu? The Tower of Najima!” I said a little exasperated. I didn’t really want to get into a conversation; I wanted to think. I was hoping Miharu would chose to be as silent as Kumiko, but I had no such luck.
“So what’s in this old tower anyway?” a slightly tipsy Taro asked.
“A key. We need it,’ Kumiko replied simply.
“Oh. Ok,” Taro replied even more simply.
“Why can’t you just be like that? You have to know everything!” I cried at Miharu.
“Damn right I do! And besides, you tell me everything anyway! It’s just most times I don’t have to ask. This Mr. Mysterioso sh*t is new,” she shot back. Then, her eyes flickered over Kumiko and suddenly she brightened.
“Oh, I think I see now…” she smirked.
I was not in the mood for this game.
“Listen here you little…”
“Perhaps we should think of heading out? It’s getting late,” Kumiko interrupted smoothly yet firmly. She seemed to be getting impatient with our bickering. I was too.
“Yes, of course. Let’s go,” I stated and turned pointedly.
“Oh wait!” Taro shouted suddenly. “We have supplies for everyone,” he beamed as though he was very proud of the fact. “And, we can sell our old equipment back to the shop too!”
“I’ll take care of that,” Miharu volunteered. “I’ll be able to get the most money for the stuff.”
This was true. Miharu had a way with people, a smooth-talker, especially when it came to bargaining. We each geared up and sent Miharu with to work on the shopkeepers.
“I like this leather armor,” I commented to Taro, trying to make small-talk until Miharu returned. That was not a good idea…
“Oh yeah, man! This is some choice stuff for this little island. Good enough to replace my old stuff. Sh*t! That stuff was shredded to bits! And did you see the suit I found Miharu? She’ll be able to do all her hi-ya-cha-cha-cha sh*t in that thinner leather. Awesome! And… Hey! Kumiko, show him your new knife! That’s a magic knife there. Perfect for a wizard! Now just wait until we get to Romaly! We’ll be able to buy even better sh*t!”
Kumiko gave Taro and I a reproachful look and produced the small knife. I think she wanted to test it out on Taro who was now talking to her cats about various weapons he wanted to obtain. I shrugged helplessly.
“It is a nice knife,” I offered.
She just shook her head and put the knife away. Thankfully, I saw Miharu coming back down the path. She looked very pleased with herself.
“Suckers,” she chuckled and produced much more money than the old gear deserved. But that’s what we were counting on.
“You’re shameless,” I joked and we finally got started.
Just a short walk south of Reeve took us to a small grove of trees on the outskirts of the Forests to the East. A few yards into the grove there’s a small cleared field with an old ramshackle building that used to be a jail of some sorts.
“What are we doing here?” Taro asked looking doubtfully at the building. It was obvious that no one had been here in years. “There isn’t anybody here, is there?”
“No,” I replied. “But at on time there was. And I guess that person went to the Tower a lot because… look!”
“Big deal,” Taro protested. “The basement!”
“The basement of the Tower,” Miharu grinned as I revealed a long dark set of stairs leading down into nothingness.
“Ah! Excellent,” Kumiko nodded to her staff and produced a glowing ball at the tip that lit up an area large enough for us all to walk in. Her cats went bounding right into the darkness ahead of us. “Shall we then?” and she turned and started down the stairs.
“Let’s go,” I said to Taro and we followed along with Miharu.
We had been lucky up until that point and I knew our luck was about to run out. We hadn’t had to deal with anything worse than a few Slimes and possessed Ravens. But I knew the monsters in the tower were going to be much more challenging and dangerous. I was happy to have so many companions. Especially Kumiko.
The fat white cat came trotting back to Kumiko and began rubbing up against her leg. I thought I saw another flicker of a smile, but I couldn’t be certain. The cat left to strike out ahead of us again and a short while later the small black one came back purring. I realized they were our look-outs and smiled myself. Kumiko winked at the little black cat and it ran ahead. This time, I definitely saw a smirk from her!
“So, what’s with this key?” Miharu finally asked.
“I’m not really sure,” I admitted. “The Elder just told me an old man in the Tower has a key that the thief Bakor made and that we need it for the journey. After this, we’re going to the Cave of Enticement so we’ll probably have to use it there.”
“I know, I know. The Elder said he’ll take care of that. We’ll see him again before we leave.”
Before Miharu could reply there was a loud hiss from one of the cats, then an even louder hiss from something else.
“Miromi! Momo!’ Kumiko called.
Huh, so that’s their names, I thought to myself. Then I didn’t think about much as the cats were chased to us by the most hideous mutant frog I’d ever seen. It was easily the size of three of the palace guard dogs and twice as fat. It half hopped, half oozed towards us dripping poisonous looking mucus from its long blue tongue.
“Be careful of the poison!” Taro shouted drawing his axe.
“Miharu, let us handle this one. I don’t want you to get to close and get poisoned,” I called to her.
“Like hell!” she began to protest.
“No, he’s right,” Kumiko said. “We can’t afford to stop now if anyone gets hurt needlessly. We’ll keep our distance from this beast.”
Taro and I were inching around the disgusting frog to surround it. Suddenly it turned and saw us. With another terrible hiss it spit at Taro, who rolled out of the way just in time. I took the opportunity to lunge and slash at it with my sword. I connected and the monster squealed in pain as thick black goo dripped from the wound and sizzled on the floor. I quickly wiped off my sword before it ate right through!
From the corner of my eye I saw Kumiko finish some sort of incantation and raise her staff.
“Blaze!!” she cried and a stream of fire shot out and struck the frog. It screamed and tried to hop away, but I had wounded it. Pretty soon, it gurgled its defeat and stopped moving. The magical fire disappeared as it died.
“Well alright Wizard-lady!” Taro beamed. “Nicely done!”
“Let’s go,” I laughed. “The stairs are just up ahead.”
To Be Continued…
Next: Chapter 4-
“The Tower of Najima… again...”
Commute
By PAt
I drive to work
Everyday.
Twenty-three miles
There.
Twenty-three miles
Back.
Every working day
Except for
Labor Day
And Teacher’s Convention
(two days)
and workshop day
and Thanksgiving Break
(two days)
and Christmas / New Year Break
(six days not counting weekends)
and In-Service Day
and President’s Day
and spring Break
(six days not counting weekends)
and Good Friday
and Memorial Day
and Summer.
Forty-six miles.
Round Trip.
Until today.
SCHOOL’S OUT!
Awakened
By Jennifer Ann Bywaters
At rest and turbulent the same,
With thoughts of you I sit and be;
A heart elated and afraid
My spirit squawks at me.
Unafraid and bold I've been,
Through ordeals immense;
Resilient and determined always
Hope and joy brought hence.
Today the shock of knowing you,
Brings to me a dream long lost
A light extinguished in the pain,
Of events my corrupting did frost.
Your arrival does a return to Me,
To my being warrant,
And in my heart joy does abound
Bellowing up a torrent.
A fool I now know I had not been,
To be confident in the perception
Belief in something greater still
Is not deception.
