100/100 -16-

“Can I keep it?”

He stared at the thing on the floor, cheerfully enveloping half of a sneaker. It moved like a protoplasm, but was covered in soft russet fur. He tried poking at it, but it wobbled threateningly. His daughter, though, was able to pick it and the shoe up without a problem, while it burbled and bubbled. She smiled down at it so possessively, almost threateningly. He swallowed down his fear. All the ‘raising a mad scientist’ books said this was a possibility. Preteens vacillated between science and madness. There really was only one solution:

“Ask your mother.”

100/100 -15-

“It’s a tough trick,” said the magician, rolling his sleeves. “Most people use a wax bullet. Palm a bullet in the mouth, when the bullet is fired, it disintegrates in the air, and you pretend to catch it in your teeth. Mine requires more skill. Control the powder, reduce the velocity, and time it –just- right…”

“But that wasn’t the bullet tonight.”

The magician nodded, kicking the assistant as he lay dead on the floor. “I lost a lot of teeth getting it right. Replaced them with steel. He made his play, and all I had to do was smile.”

100/100 -14-

She sat on the edge of the lagoon, wiping her eyes, looking down at the paperwork. Twenty months of waiting, and it all came down to a single piece of paper, stamped, sealed and signed. She had been to court, she pleaded her case. A rabbit hopped over to her, nudging a daisy.

“You can always reapply.” Said the rabbit. “This isn’t the only court, and you –are- a refugee. Nearly anyone from your home is a refugee. It’s why you all come here.
She nodded sadly, her antennae bobbing. “That’s the problem. Every fairy has been chased by dragons.”

100/100 -13-

She stared at the blank sheet of paper. She tried to open its secret with music, chiming spheres, and countless cans of red bull. But her clock read that she’d been at this too long, and she would have to face the consequences. She scribbled a sentence, stuffed it in her bag, and cycled it over to her Faculty Advisor. She stormed the office and thrust it in the advisor’s hands, who waved her out of the room. The next day, an envelope appeared in the mail, containing her single page:

‘Let There Be Light’.

Underneath, in red pen: ‘Good.’

100/100 -12-

The spring rains had ended, and the forest of the Great Valley bloomed. Coyotes wandered, stalking the peacocks as they made their mating calls. Palms grew with conifers, and fresh flowering plants grew through the cracks in the vast grids of asphalt. Vines covered the towers as swallows made their nests. Wild sage grew upon the hills facing the valley, as bobcat mothers taught their kittens to hunt. All around the Great Valley, Nature was at peace.

And with a grunt and a groan, the last zombie in the world collapsed from starvation at the corner of Hollywood and Vine.

100/100 -11-

“And three…Two…One…Awaken.”

Farmer Ben blinked several times as the audience laughed, and the hypnotist helped him up off the chair. They laughed and cheered when he got on his overalls, and picked up his pitchfork. He chewed on his tobacco, peering in the dark. He saw feathered shapes in the dark, the laughter transforming into clucking. Hundreds of chickens were laughing at him, drinking their chicken drinks, and putting on airs. No god damned chicken was going to laugh at him as he took the pitchfork to them.

The hypnotist sighed. This was why you didn’t break from the script.

100/100 -10-

Talafiara, the queen of the fairies, sat alone in the marble garden atop the Harold Washington library. At every corner of the building, the great Bronze Owls searched the city and beyond. Beneath her, the amassed knowledge of the world was stacked in half a dozen layers, hovering over a glyph that contained the city’s past and future. Her guards wandered the stacks disguised as hipsters and the homeless. She bit the nail of her thumb as she curled tighter on her throne, eyes searching every entrance. She might return. The girl who said fairies were nonsense. She just might…