6.30.19

The day was clear. None of the park-goers by Loyola University expected the rain that fell. A gathering remained, surrounding an adoring couple. The pair knelt, as an elderly woman spoke to them. They sipped sake as onlookers applauded. When the rain cleared, the couple walked off together, changing back into foxes in the park’s shadows. The woman rose, gathering the shawl that disguised her nine tails.

A young fox, disguised as a bicycle courier, took her hand.

“Beautiful wedding, my grandmother.”

“Rogers Park is kind to newcomers. I expect more foxes soon. We should paint one of the benches.”

6.27.19

“I like to think of it as the ‘Duh’ factor.”

 We spent the evening talking about everything and nothing, waiting in the car for the train that would take me home.

“Explain.”

“Say you’re ill and need my kidney. My response is ‘Duh, of course.’ No thought at all. That is family to me. If you ever need anything from me, my response is always going to be: ‘Duh, you’re my sister’.

I didn’t know those stray words would change so much. My family is now so very large, and she was the first of my found brothers and sisters.

6.26.19

 “You have to believe me-“

“I –do- believe you, Chris. But there’s a better way. .”

Chris stared at Ryan in horror. He had found Chris’ secret space, and had locked himself in with Chris, on this night of all nights. The growl built in Chris’ throat, as his body rippled in the moonlight spilling from the basement window. Soon he would-

The tap on his nose was sharp.

“No.”

Ryan’s gaze never left him, one finger raised, and the other pointed at the floor. The werewolf sat down, whimpering, as a treat was balanced on his nose.

“Good boy.”

6.23.19

After the Szechuan Sauce debacle, the executives knew there was going to be a problem. Being executives, they proceeded regardless.

In the short term, it was a success. Adding the McRib sandwich to their permanent menu brought customers back, swelling their profits past reason.

Within a week, their supply was depleted.

In a month, there were no pigs left to be had.

Beef and chicken were reconstituted, and the people demanded yet more.

The scales tipped in Hammond Indiana when a tub of sauce fell on a doomed employee.

The smell of barbecue fills the air. The hordes are coming.

6.19.19

I don my armor.

Polyester and spandex to keep me cool and limit the impact of contact.

Lacing and steel to protect my core and provide a posture that looks confident and unafraid.

Two layers of leggings to hide the damage and scarring.

My gauntlets are thick, warm and soft. Easy to touch, impossible to be touched.

My helmet turns down the noises and limits my vision to only that which I need to see.

Thus armored, I enter the arena. I have no weapons, other than my skills and my courage.

“Welcome to the stage, Lei Lei the panda!”

6.16.19

Archangel Raguel, Sixth Prince Of Heaven, drew its sword. “I am His Justice,” It spoke in a voice that carried the unyielding power of the first Flood.  “Washed in sin, by what right do you summon me? Are you a Prince of Rome? A Caliph? A particularly holy Rabbi?”

“I’m from the Maryville School for Boys. Class of 82.”

Raguel dropped its blade, afraid to meet the man’s unblinking gaze. The man effortlessly caught the sword that would cleave the seals of Revelation, and placed the point against the angel’s throat.

“Tell your boss, his children would like a word.”