Business Suit and Dressed-in-Goodwill

Dark-suited guards admitted the man to the eightieth-story office. "I present Dressed-in-Goodwill," one intoned. "Your ten-thirty." Business Suit turned from her floor-to-ceiling window to face the supplicant. "You have two minutes." "Yes, CEO Business Suit," said the man. "I come to beg for a revolution permit. I and many—"

"Revolution? That suggests faults are going unaddressed."

"Yes, Business Suit. I and many others suffer great financial burdens. We have nothing but our debts, and—"

"All economic measures indicate great prosperity. Do you claim them false?"

"Only that they may not measure everything. Permit a revolution, and many may live better lives."

"A revolt topples the ruling class. You suggest I have lost the mandate of the Free Market."

Dressed-in-Goodwill bowed. "The Free Market clearly favors you, but—"

"Then my reign is just and right. Permit denied. Your two minutes are up."

"Yes, great Business Suit." Dressed-in-Goodwill bowed himself out. A personal assistant stepped in.

Business Suit smiled. "Offer him a job managing an economic revitalization program that he can't refuse without feeling hypocritical, at a salary low enough he still feels righteous." The PA bowed and left.

Satisfied, Business Suit turned back to her window and surveyed her perfect domain.

Come See Me

"If you didn't come see me while I was alive," she said, "don't come see me once I'm dead." We knew she was trying to shame us into visiting, but we didn't think she'd hire a bouncer for her funeral. "Yeah, so when'd you last see her?" His high-pitched voice seemed mismatched with his nearly seven feet, black blazer over a black shirt and pants, and chinstrap beard and shaved head. He looked like he usually worked outside a nightclub, not a small Episcopal church.

"Uh, she came to my graduation. Uh, college graduation." I cleared my throat.

"So she had to come to you?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"Uh, wait!" I thought fast. "I swung by last year and had lunch with her."

"Where'd you eat?"

"Her place. Slipped my mind because I was passing through on a long road trip, y'know?"

"Nice try, kid. Next!" My cousin Linda stepped forward.

"What, lunch isn't good enough?"

"Not when you're lying." He fist-bumped Linda and let her through.

"How would you know?"

"You don't recognize me."

"Should I?"

"Well, I was living with your grandmother at the time."

I decided I was better off not thinking about Grandma just then.

To Walk

He wanted to walk, so he walked. "You'll get tired and wish you hadn't gone so far," the said. He didn't get tired. "You'll get homesick," they said. "Once you've been away too long, you'll come back." It turned out he didn't get homesick for people who told him not to walk.

"You'll get lost in the woods! Bears will eat you!" He did get lost, but as long as he was walking he didn't mind. The bears left him alone because he left them alone.

"You'll walk off the edge of the Earth," they cried. He did walk off the edge of the Earth. Drifting in the void, he relished all the walking he had done, but wondered if perhaps he should have turned.

But Flatter

"I'm tired of following this human around," said the shadow. "It's stupid." "Bored?" asked the other shadow. "Yeah, they do tend to do the same stuff over and over."

"It's not boredom!" If they hadn't been speaking in shadow-voices, which naturally travel through the shadows of sound waves, the shout would have woken up its person. "It's not. I... I want what it has. To be able to do stuff, not just whatever it does but flatter."

"Put in for a transfer," said the second. "Be the shadow of a factory or an office building for a while. Those can be real peaceful. And being so big? Really gives you perspective."

"No, I want to do things! Like the humans. It's not fair. Why don't we get to do? Act instead of react? I just want some choice!"

"Well, what do you do at night?"

"At night?"

"Yeah, you know. With the lights out, the big boss covers your shift. I like to go flying out in craters on the moon."

"We can go off duty?" Its shadow-voice was breathy, unbelieving.

"Did you even read the shadow manual?" But it was talking to empty darkness, the other shadow already gone.

As Honor Demands

"Sir Acornium, a moment! While I am sure you did not intend it, I am positive that I just now saw you digging up a delectable treat that was not your own." "My word, Sir Pufflecheeks, that accusation is as shocking as it is false. I buried that worthy meal last fall. I must demand that you rescind your statement or be prepared to defend it."

"I cannot in good conscience say otherwise, nole sir, for I know your words for false. You see, I buried that comestible myself, in that very spot!"

"You will not gainsay your accusation?"

"I cannot. And while I have no wish to do you harm, know, good sir, that I stand ready."

"Then let this be the field of honor! Have at!"

Matt elbowed Jana and pointed out the window. "Look at how wild those squirrels are going at it. They're such crazy critters!"

A Special Prescription

Mark smiled across the table. As first dates went, this was pretty good. Dan had a bashful charm that had been putting a smile on Mark's face all night. "Can I see your glasses?" Mark asked. Dan hesitated in that way that Mark found so cute. "Uh, okay." He took the thick black frames off and passed them over.

"I just want to see how bad your prescription is." Mark fitted the glasses to his face peering too closely through them to see Dan's growing nervousness. A moment later Mark whipped them off in shock. "Those... those colors! Shapes! What was that?"

Dan snatched the glasses back in a panic. "It's, uh, a special prescription. I'm twenty/four-hundred emotional recognition. These help correct for that. Makes the emotions... more clear. With colors."

"So that kind of red light I saw glowing, uh, all around you?"

Dan blushed. "Um, that's attraction. And..." he muttered something Mark couldn't make out, but Mark was pretty sure he didn't need to. Mark smiled. Dan smiled. They started holding hands.

The Finishing Touch

Daniel put the finishing touches on the tiny figurine. No bigger than his thumb, it bore every semblance of humanity. This one was a young boy, dressed for boarding school. He had a barely visible blush to his cheeks, as if he'd been running to make the bell and now stood, all propriety, hands behind his back, ready for lessons. Daniel sniffed and wiped away a tear that hadn't yet formed. He'd always wanted a child, but Jenny had died so young and he'd never had the heart to remarry. "Alan," he whispered. The name let him pretend for a moment that the hole in his heart could be filled.

"I put pressure on you to go to Eton, but you became a Radley boy instead. I was proud you made your own choice. You hated your piano lessons until you loved them. You wish people didn't call you Al. I will always love you."

Something in the mixture—the intensity of emotion, the infinite care, the perfect detail—invested the shape with life. The figurine woke as Alan, memories, emotions, and all.

Daniel put Alan on his private shelf beside dozens more immobile figurines, each as carefully painted and intensely loved.