The Purity of Want

So there I was, worshipping the porcelain god, when I puked up my face. Not like my face came off my skull or some shit like that. No, this was a floppy, skin-mask version of my face floating on a raft of puke-green half-digested tater tots on a scum of cheap booze. Naturally, I stared at it in shock, blinking. At least until it blinked back at me. "What the f—"

"I am your inner desire," it said in my voice. "Through the purity of your want, I have manifested to realize your dream. Simply state what you seek and it shall be yours."

I'm not going to lie. I vomited on it. Once it got done spitting and blinking its eyes clear, I said, "If you're for real, shouldn't you know what I want already? Why not just give it to me, man?"

"You must give voice to your desires to bring them to life," it said. "If you cannot accept your need, it will never come to you." It spit out more watery vomit. "Say it! Speak your will!"

Yeah, I flushed that thing down with my puke. It screamed all the way. Sketchy as fuck, that thing.

Its Time to Leave

Dear everyone I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore its time to leave. To Mom its not your fault You did all you could do for me and more. I love you lots an want you to not worry about me I'm in a better place. Dont stay with Gary hes no good for you you know it.

To Dad I'm coming to see you. I think God whated me with you thats why He took you so I would follow.

To Stan I'll miss you most of all. Your the best baby brother any girl could have and I'm so glad you can have a good life now I won't be in the way all the time. Mom will have the extra money for you to do better with.

To Missus Kravaughg who lives in the walls I know you loovd me because you didn't kkill us all cause I sound like your daughter from when you were alife. I'm sorry but I can't bear the response ability no more. Please don't blame my family its not their fault.

Bye

The shadowed walls darkened. Her mother lowered the tearstained note looking aggrieved and confused, but only for a moment.

How Are You Feeling?

"So, Ms Rodriguez, how have you been feeling this week?" He leaned back in his chair. She looked uncertain. "What are you feeling when you ask me that, Mr Penzer?"

"Doctor Penzer, please."

"Um, yes. Sorry, Dr Penzer. But you know how it helps when my therapist opens up."

###

It was another week. "I think that's where my drive to help people came from. What about you? What made you who you are today?"

He started to sweat. "I'm... I'm afraid our time is up. Since you're my last client today, I'm leaving. You can see yourself out." He rushed home.

###

"What do you read?" he asked.

"A lot of psychology papers, and fiction with deep internal conflicts in the characters."

"Taking an interest in my profession, are you?"

"You might say that. What do you read?" He hesitated. "You know our deal, Dr Penzer. I give, you give. It's your turn."

"All right." His gaze drifted off into the middle distance. "I like spy thrillers, mostly. They take me into the hero, make me feel..."

"Feel what?"

"Like I'm someone else." He looked at her. "I'm not the therapist here, am I?"

She smiled warmly. "Welcome back, Mr Penzer."

Look at My Ear

"Now look at my ear." The optometrist tapped his left ear, and I focused there. He shined a bright light at my eye, then at the side, and froze. "No fuckin' way," he murmured. "What? What is it?" I tried not to move. "Is everything okay?"

"Just... wait. Don't move." He nearly tripped over his stool in his rush out the door. A moment later he returned with an older woman. "We found it, ma'am."

"You'll get a commendation for this," she said. "If you're not another eager beaver wasting my time." She sounded hard, like she had seen everything twice over. She settled onto the optometrist's stool. "Look at my ear, please."

I looked. With her shining her light and peering at god-knows-what, I tried not to move and said, "What is it? Is it something bad?"

"On the contrary, Ms Rezaei," she said. "It's what we've been looking for all these years."

"Looking for?"

"You didn't think we looked into people's eyes just to correct vision, did you? God, no. We've been searching for something."

"And I have it?"

"And you have it." Her smile was joyful, but not kind. "Now we just have to get it out."

Just a Few Yards Ahead

Fred turned the corner and hurried down the sidewalk. Over his shoulder, he saw Old Lady Barcat watching from the yard of the house on the corner, judgment in her eyes. She turned, and Fred followed her glance to see Ophelia Turner coming around the corner behind him. He tried to hurry, but he couldn't keep up the pace. She gained on him. He turned the next corner and saw his home, the path up to his door, just a few yards ahead. With a deep breath, he marshalled his reserves for the last dash just as Ophelia turned the corner behind him.

She wouldn't have reached him except the neighbor boy had left his scooter on the sidewalk again. She leapt on and, with a precarious balance, rolled not past Fred but through him, sending him spinning to the ground.

Dizzy, Fred picked himself up. Farther down the sidewalk, Ophelia hopped off the scooter and laughed. He looked around and his stomach sank. She had knocked him past his sidewalk, all the way back to where he'd started. Now, he'd have to walk all the way around the block again if he wanted to get home.

"Sorry," she yelled.

This Can't Be Boring

"Another big zero." Philamena punched a few keys in the console and looked out the cockpit window. It wasn't glass but some kind of steel-hard polylaminate. Some techie had called it transparent aluminum and snorted out his Coke. "You sound disappointed." Her copilot Lamar leaned back, his feet up on his inactive console.

Philamena stared through the window at the planet spinning below them, a crescent of light against a field of stars, three moons in varying degrees of states of wax and wane. "I am. You think I'm doing this for my health?"

"Sure, we all appreciate the paycheck," Lamar said, "but you don't care about exploring new worlds? We're only the fourth team sent out, this can't be boring for you."

"No, it's not." She sighed. "There's just so much promise to finding the right planet, the fact that no one has yet makes me kinda..."

"Yeah, it would be really nice," Lamar said. "You sure about those readings?"

"Dead sure. Artificial EM fields, night-time light patterns, all the standards. This world's inhabited." They shared a moment of silence. "Well, maybe we can use the next one. Prepare for translation."

"Translation, aye." A moment later, they weren't there.

In the Sacred Union

"We declare these three travelers in life bound in the sacred union of friendship, which can never be broken." The fifth-grader sprinkled playground sand over the first-graders and lowered her arms. A pair of fourth-graders removed the ritual headdress, a ripped kickball dangling with tattered jump ropes. Without a further word, she walked away. "That's right," Jean said. "Friends forever." She brought in Sam and Alex for a hug, and they held each other tight, grinning and laughing together.

"Nothing can split us apart," said Sam. He put his hand up, and the other two high-fived him at the same moment, a Musketeers moment. Some of their other friends clapped them on the backs, bumped fists, or gave them words of congratulations on finding their official best friends.

"Let's play kickball," Alex said. The three of them ran down to the field with their other friends. A few minutes later, Manny made Janet the first pick for his team. All eyes turned to Jean, captaining the other team.

She ignored the other kids, looking at Sam, and then Alex. Her stomach fell. Picking one would hurt the other. No choice was right.

"I resign as kickball team captain," she said.