The13thOctober

She sniffled, and straightened, nose buried in the crook of her arm as she turned her head to watch him expectantly. "Well?" she prompted in a muffled rebuke when her patience had fled. "Well what?" She dropped her arm. "Aren't you going to say 'bless you?'" "I never do," he answered simply, and was compelled to continue a moment later. "Don't you know how it started? Back during the bubonic plague, people thought saying that would prevent it from spreading when someone sneezed. It doesn't mean anything." "So?" she furrowed. "The world could use a few more 'bless you's.'"

"Stop him, now. Catch him under your foot, like that. Don't let him get away. Grab his head." I could feel the dove's beak thrashing in my half-hearted grip, an odd slick scraping just beyond the soft ruffled feathers. "Hold him tight, don't let him get away. You're gonna have to give it a good yank." I could feel my lips shaping the echo of a question, but I was transfixed by a dark red smear on the side of my shoe, barely big enough to fit across the bird's back, barely big enough to hold it in place. "Yes, pull it off. He's in pain. We shot him, but we don't let him suffer if we can help it." I could feel the dove's neck, fragile but

"You know what I miss?" "Yeah, what's that?" "When 'the dead of night' was just a saying. And when it meant everything was quiet." He spat over the edge of the wall, and the wad of saliva exploded across the face of one of the creatures below. It didn't blink, just kept its face turned up as the incessant moan poured from its throat, like the night wind itself was blowing through its vocal chords and turning the churning mass into a wind chime of rotting flesh. "Don't do that. For all we know that was somebody's grandmother." "Yeah. Was," he said, and cursed as he spat again and hit the shoulder of the creature beside it. "Enough! How w

Breakfast was cold. Not cold cereal, he had thought to himself, but a breakfast that had been hot and was now cold. Burnt bacon, scrambled eggs, white bread. His wife left it at least an hour ago; a blank post-it sat next to the plate. A few years ago, it would have had a small note about heating it up in the microwave, a hasty good morning with a scrawled heart. Now it was just routine for routine's sake. He wondered how long it would be until she put raw food on th plate. As he started to eat the food cold, he figured he still wouldn't heat it up if she did. His car is a hybrid piece of shit. First generation, top of the line, all the ext

Let the earth take my name with my body, let it be spoken no more. Let me join the forgotten, the misremembered, the unloved. Let me be in good company.

Aha, you're finally awake. Good, I was getting so tired of the waiting. I do hope you're comfortable. They may call me wicked - and they may be right - but I am not cruel, after all. Oh? Yes, well, it does take a bit of time to adjust, I'm afraid, but you'll soon grow used to it. Now, where are my manners? I am Chrysalis, Queen of the Changelings. Well, of course you already knew that. And of course I already know who you are, but it's always best to be polite, I find. Now, why don't you introduce yourself? No? Ah, what a pretty name for such a pretty filly. I am ever so sorry for having to resort to such measures, but I'm sure they won't