Your stomach does this funny lift, when they activate the anti-grav. Nothing crazy, like you'd get if you were on a roller coaster, but my dad, he was never a roller-coaster guy. He had it in his head that the train was going to crash, clutched the armrests with both hands and focused on his breathing. Little shallow breaths, in-out, in-out, over and over for the whole thirty clicks it took to get into low orbit.
"Dad, it's fine. We're safe," I said. "Nothing's going to happen to the train, okay?" I clean up broken dreams. It pays decent. Hygiene is important, so I always use gloves.
I've heard it said that people should clean up their own messes. I'm biased, I suppose, but that sounds too much like handing suiciders a gun and a mop. Nasty business, that. On Monday, Avalonia Joia stormed into my office, shut the door behind herself, and sat in the chair across from my desk, all without saying a word. She crossed her arms and sighed. Her hair was long and golden, her eyes were opalescent and her skin was as clear as day. She had never been called to my office before, but that didn't mean I didn't know exactly who she was when I saw the name on the principal's note. Everyone knew who she was.
"Hi, you must be Avalonia," I faked a smile. "My name is Ms. Kaley, and I'm the guidance counselor. My job is to talk to students, see how they are doing--"
by Peter M Ball
Published on Dec 2, 2016
by Andrew Gilstrap
Mom snatches my notebook from my hands. "What the hell is this?" "It's a zombie story."
Published on Dec 1, 2016
by Jez Patterson
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by Thomas D. Ladson
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by Stephen S. Power
1. Explaining to your kids that they're all still siblings, no matter which of your wombs they came from. Besides, most days you can't remember who came from where yourself.
Published on Nov 28, 2016
by Tori Stubbs
Published on Nov 25, 2016