Like Old Times 2

"Tell us who took the seal or I'll put my fist through your throat," she said. "Woah, woah, woah," I pulled her off him. "We don't need to hurt this person. Look, I'm sorry," I said to him.

"Like hell we don't," she said. She shoved me. "He's not gonna help without some encouragement."

"We can offer incentives other than freedom from violence, you know."

"Like what, a toaster? A pretty little benefits package?" She shoved me again. "This? This is why our marriage failed. You could never go the distance. You just don't push through to get the job done."

"You're blaming the divorce on my lack of trying? Really?" I shoved her back. "Lady, I tried. I tried like hell. What killed it was your complete inflexibility. Your way or the highway, over and over, and I eventually chose the highway."

"Yeah?" she said, "well maybe you'd like my fist through your--"

"Shut up," I said, "he's talking."

"I said," said the guy, "the seal's at the Ouroboros Club on 43rd."

"Huh," I said. "That was surprisingly easy."

"Anything to not hear you two fighting like an old--," he muttered.

So she punched him in the throat anyway.

Like Old Times

I was drowning. I'm pretty sure I'd done something to deserve it, but deserving it didn't mean I liked it. Strong hands pulled me up and into fresh air. After vomiting up the water, I said, "Okay, I'll tell you everything."

"I don't wanna know anything," said the gorilla holding me. Then she pushed me under the water again. Damn. Sometimes I regret divorcing her.

Next time she pulled me up, she slapped the water out of me. "Now tell me where the idol is."

"I thought you didn't want to know anything?" I gave her a leaky grin. Whoops. Back under I went.

We tried it again. This time I said, "Listen. You know I'm a stubborn SOB. I'd rather drown than tell you what I know. You'd rather kill me than not get the idol." She tensed to push me under again. "But, butbutbut," I said, "we could partner up." I could tell she liked the idea by the way she didn't go back to drowning me. "It'll be like old times, except without the fights and the sex." I looked up at her. "Unless you'd prefer it with the sex?"

One more drowning later, we were partners.

Reverse House

Beneath the bed lies a door. Through this door lies the reverse house, the space that fills all the walls and floors, all the blocked-off areas you could never get to otherwise. Reverse people live there. They are adults who let you stay up as long as you want and don't make you go to school. They are the siblings who are nice and let you play with their toys. You can watch any movies you want. The cookies are on the bottom shelf of the cupboard, the spoons are stored next to the ice cream, and the salads are nowhere to be found. The zucchini is in the trash.

When you go to the reverse house, you have to be careful. You never know if one of your real parents might come in and clean your room. And if they do, will they put boxes underneath your bed and block the door?

How long do you stay? Can you afford to be trapped in the reverse house forever? If you can't get back, will you miss your real family? Or will you be happy with a life of pancakes and play time, all that you want and more, forever?

A Bit More Time

Quick quick quick! Gotta get there before two, she said, and the bus was late and slow and dropped me at 1:54 and now I gotta move quick quick quick. Said she could help but only if I'm quick quick! Down the street, past the butcher, turn left, then the second right. Was that a right? Do alleys count or only streets? I don't know. If it was Google Maps I'd know, but this is creepy old woman directions and I don't know.

Creepy old women count the alleys, they've gotta count them, so stop staring and run past and count: one the alley, two the street, right and hey.

I've never seen this street before.

Where did this street come from?

Is that really a cobblestone road? Are those buildings made of wood? I've never heard of this part of town. Woah, horse! And why's that guy staring like he sees an alien?

Okay, back, reverse direction, turning right one way means turning left the other way...

There's no street there now. Is that guy walking toward me really wearing a sword?

Maybe I shouldn't've asked that weird old woman for more time before my report was due.

Tread on Me

"Comeoncomeoncomeonnnnnn," said the tile, "step on me. C'mon!" The bathroom door swung open and someone walked in, missing the tile by one-fifth of a tilewidth. "Maaaaaaan," the tile said.

"Don't worry, 54," said nearby 73. "I'm sure you'll get stepped on soon. No reason to worry about it."

"I know, I know, but this is my ten-thousandth time. It's big!"

"Ohhh," said 73, "you'll be in the ten-kay club."

"Right!" cried 54. "And maybe, you know," it stopped.

"Maybe...?"

"Maybe when I'm in the ten-kay, 211 will be interested in me."

"Ohh, 211? Man, 211 is hot. Ho-o-o-ot."

"I know, right?"

"But totally attached to 240."

"Yeah, I know. And why wouldn't it be? 240 is totally awesome. 240 gets stepped on, like, all the time."

"And it's so nice about it, too."

As if on cue, 240 yelled across the floor. "Hey 54! Just heard about your near miss. No worries, man, you'll hit ten-kay any time now. You're awesome, bud!"

"See?" said 73. "Who wouldn't want to get next to a tile like that?"

"What's so great about getting stepped on," growled 1 from behind the propped-open bathroom door.

"Nothing, 1," said 54, "you just don't get it."

Unpleasantly of Cucumber

Her glass of water tasted unpleasantly of cucumber. In the end, that was what pushed her over the edge. Sitting in the judge's chambers, kept waiting for hours just to see an officious appointed individual who unreasonably had some say over how she used her home. The blast shattered the windows into shards, the largest smaller than a grain of sand, and demolished the heavy oak door. Splinters flew into the marble courthouse hall outside. Alarms rang throughout the building.

Security skidded to a stop in front of the ruins of the door and found her sitting comfortably in the judge's office, a small smirk on her face. Everything around her was crushed, shredded, pulverized, or generally annihilated.

"What happened?" cried one guard. "Ma'am, are you all right?" asked another.

"I'm fine," she said, languid. "But perhaps I shan't wait for the judge any longer."

She strode out of the hall, ignoring the guards' entreaties to wait, to see a doctor, to answer some questions. She passed the judge, who breathlessly wondered, "What happened to my office?"

"In the future," she said in passing, I recommend you not tell a wizard that she may not zone her home for magic."

Escape from the Lost City

It burst from the wall of the crypt without warning, a venomous-green thing shining with a searing light that filled the chamber with angled shadows. A moment after it appeared it knocked Justine across the room. Her head hit the wall, and as the room went black she watched the monster advancing on Yesmin. When she opened her eyes, Yesmin was pulling her out of the crypt. The chamber where the demon had ambushed them was bright with red and green, blood human and otherworldly mixed in garish abstraction.

"J- j- j--" stuttered Yesmin.

"Justine," said Justine. Yesmin nodded. She shook her head and stumbled, and Justine noticed cuts, some still bleeding, all over her partner. She found her feet and started leading Yesmin through the streets of the abandoned city. "This way," she said. "How did you kill it?"

"Didn't," said Yesmin. "Couldn't. Had to get out." She stopped and doubled over against a wall.

"You did great," said Justine. "I can't believe you held it off long enough to get me out."

"Didn't," she said. "Couldn't. Had to get out." She retched, and her open mouth cast a burning green light on the street of the old city.