Alexandra’s Awakening

The minute Alexandra Underwood walked through the front door she was confronted with the sight of her mother sitting at the dining room table with folded arms. Alex couldn’t help but wonder just how long she had been sitting there, waiting to pounce. She slowly lowered her books to the floor as if by some miracle she could avoid drawing her mother’s fiery attention.

I just need to make it to my room, she thought as she tried to move out of her mother’s line of sight.

“Welcome home, Alexandra.”

“Hi mom,” she tried on an overly cheerful voice. “I was just headed to my room to study.”

“Not before we have a conversation, you aren’t.”

“Look, I know I shouldn’t have messed with that kid, but he’s such a jerk!”


Alex lowered her head and bit her tongue.

“You know that we can’t use our powers among the humans.”

“I know.”

“And you know we definitely can’t use them on humans.”

“Yeah, I know. But-”

“There is no but, Alexandra.”

“So I’m just supposed to put up with the teasing?”

“You are smart, Alex. You don’t have to resort to your powers to deal with a bully like him.”


Her mother took a sharp breath in and let it out slowly. “The school called me because the young boy you assaulted is telling everyone who will listen that you made him hear and hit himself repeatedly in the head.” Continue reading

Lessone the Firste

“Magick is Intention and Power directed through Focus toward Result— Focus being the Artefact and the Worde.” — Lessone the Firste


“Morning Quinn! How’s the world treating you today?”

“Just fine, Sam. How are you?”

“Dandy. Just dandy. Do you have any phones, cameras, or data storage devices on your person?” Sam recited the script.

“Just my book. Hope that’s OK,” Quinn showed Sam the padded mailer.

“Anything good?”

The Woad Warrior, Volume 3. It’s one of my favorite comics.”

“Maybe you can lend it to me when you’re done.”

“Will do, Sam.” Quinn collected her envelope and proceeded towards her booth. Glass windows on one side of the hallway looked into the secure documents warehouse, all tall steel cages and forklifts transferring pallets of records boxes from place to place. On the other side were long, narrow corridors lined with closed doors to the scanning booths. Quinn turned down the second hall and used her key card to unlock the fourth door. Continue reading

Fall Interrupted

by Rob Conway

Never start with the weather.  It is trite to use the fancy word, but it really is just that.  Trite.  Never start a story with the weather.  So let us ignore the obvious, the fact that as I sit here pathetic and pathetic and still pathetic, something inside me metaphorically dying, the world maybe dying as well.

So, yes.  Fall.  The trees die, and yes, i know they do not actually die but they sure play the part well.  The leaves demand to be raked up, but that is a task for people that worry about such things, not people that pretend to write to justify shutting out all that is out.  But sometimes that does not help hide all that is in.

“Feeling better?”  I claimed the flu.  It is always a good time to claim flu.  “It is going around,” someone will always say, no matter when you say it.  I should be grateful that they care.  I am not.

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The Mysterious Case of the Picture Box

by Isabel Nee

Of the many odd things I have seen, one of the strangest is a certain habit I discovered during my visit to the people of the New Land. When I first arrived in the hotel I was staying at, I saw nothing amiss. Everyone there was quite pleasant, and aside from a couple incidents while trying to navigate their language, I got on quite well with most everyone. It was not until later that evening that I first became aware of an inconsistency in the otherwise normal environment.

I was investigating my room when I discovered an exceptionally large, flat box perched on a bureau near the foot of the bed. I inspected it, but could not figure out its purpose. I shrugged it off and continued about my business; however, I could not help wondering about that strange box.

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