Throwing Plans Out the Window
“Mom wouldn’t like you ignoring me.” Silence. “You should be flattered I based a character off of you.”
Matt dropped the boards he was carrying beside the carriage, the clatter and thunking echoing through the tight alley. He side-eyed his brother before kneeling to return to his project. Fixing an old west carriage with a Hydra bite.
He tries to do something nice for his free-loading, head in the clouds younger sibling. And his reward? Being trapped in that same brother’s novel in a town with no electricity or indoor plumbing. He wanted out.
Now.
Searching the Stars for Redemption
Trix flicked on the ship’s main channel. “We’re about thirty minutes from Deimos. Prepare for stable orbit.” After turning off the speaker, she reached around her console to turn various knobs and pull switches. Stars lay beyond her cockpit window, the culmination of a childhood dream.
One she’d shared.
The feelings of betrayal were now moot. What good was holding a grudge when her twin couldn’t beg for forgiveness anyway? Orville had been traveling the stars for years with the absolute best. He probably didn’t remember the sister he’d left behind.
Static came over the channel before Dustin hollered, “Isn’t this where the Star Jumper lost contact?”
Waste of a Life
Lifeless button eyes stared at the young man. He stroked the worn limbs of the poorly sewn doll, its simple dress torn at the hem. Ash smeared the white fabric.
Heavy boots echoed near.
He shoved the toy into his desk drawer before the door swung wide.
“Your father requests you, Lord Quaid.”
Consuming Fiction Through Firsthand Encounters
Matt glared at the plate, unseasoned turkey and crumbly stuffing falling over the sides. He despised the misshapen fork he’d used the last week, loathed the wooden inn that reminded him where he was.
The table jostled, food spilling. Greg made more of a raucous when he planted a leatherbound book in front of him. “You won’t believe this.” He threw the cover open and adjusted his glasses. “The town of Whifflemore was founded in 1153 by Commodore Whiffle and his partner, Trevor More.” Elation colored his pale cheeks while his lanky limbs danced wildly. “They have history books of everything I developed for my story!”
Secret Identities and Deceptive Motives
We stalled at the corner.
Adeline poked her head around before whipping back into position beside me. She held up three fingers, then pointed across the street and held up five. Three bots ahead, move on five.
I think.
She focused on the street, counting down with her fingers.
Knees bent, I mentally prepared to jog.
Ambitious Plans for Untold Rewards
Ripe dates thudded into the eager boy’s hand. With a sly smile, he pocketed his payment and ran across the stone streets. He took his place at the corner, waving his arms like frail fairy wings to catch the attention of potential buyers.
“Is it wise, sir?” Quaid leaned against the rugged stone of the colosseum.
Jax had to weave through the crowd of people entering and exiting the white palace of commerce. He swiped a couple wallets on his way and snatched an apple from a woman’s shopping bag. Tossing his ill-gotten wages to his lieutenant, he said, “A little marketing fairy gets our job done while we focus on more important matters.”
When Past Trials Affect Future Progress
Boxes of bolts and screws. Spools of wire stacked. Hooks with tools I’d never seen before.
“Don’t touch that.”
I pulled my hand away, glancing at Adeline on her perch.
Curls piled atop her head in a stretched out scrunchie, she disassembled her newfound part and scraped dried blood off the panels. She’d tap the side of her goggles periodically, a whirring emanating before she pursued smaller pieces in the gizmo.
Quietly setting a stool by her workstation, I tried to understand what was so fascinating about the part. It made a good bludgeon during our escape, but otherwise I didn’t see the importance.
Turning Imagination into Living Realms
Clattering. Clacking. Screeching.
Matthew pulled the pillow tighter around his head, burying his face in the stuffy sheets. Just an hour of peace. That’s all he desired.
A massive crash and a squeal of fright.
He groaned. Rolling out of bed, Matt dragged his calloused hand across his stubble-ridden cheek. The door slid open to a darkened hall, light streaming through a crack further down. Pillow grazing the dirty floor, he trudged to Greg’s study.
At least, that was the intended purpose.
Repeating Events for Improved Outcomes
I walked through the blackened forest, heavy clouds guarding the heavens. Light rain pattered my shoulders. Covered in ash, the small cottage exuded foreboding. Yet I didn’t see the aftermath.
I saw the before.
A soothing sense of déjà vu washed over me. My grandparents seemed to stand on the porch, waiting patiently for me to race up the creaky steps. Every winter had been a little different, but the view had never changed. Nestled in the forest, the cottage looked out to the mountain peaks where the sun set every evening.
Stars Apart from True Advance
Stars and debris enveloped the pod. Limited power, no communications. Yet nothing compared to the betrayal on Trix’s face.
Orville remembered the sudden call to the administrator’s office. Sweat beaded on his neck until he opened the door. Face to face with Benjamin Quail, the first astronaut to land on Mars, he lost his tongue. Jaw practically unhinged, he gawked at the legend before him.