TickTockAs far as I can remember, dogs don't usually come with a large, fully functioning clock face imbedded into their abdomens. They do drool a lot though, and this one was living up to that part of his species' reputation.
"I am TickTock, Defender of Time. I have come a long way from the land of Phantom Tollbooth to give you a message."
Beads of spittle fall from droopy jowls to the rhythm of ticks and tocks.
"Phantom Tollbooth? Like that book we had to read in middle school?"
"Yes. I needed to take a form which you would recognize and respond to, so I pulled this image from your memory."
"OK. Why the weird name? The dog in the book was called... huh, I can't remember. Something to do with clocks though."
"I only know what you do. Tick and Tock were both choices that appeared to me when I scanned your memories, so I decided to merge them."
"I don't think I like the idea of some strange dog I've never seen reading my mind, or appearing out of nowhere in my bedroom for that mat
Sight- Mask Maker IChapter 1- And so it begins
The mask lay broken on the floor, and that was the last that was heard of the mask maker.
I remember how it all began
I smiled at Jasper, begging him to tell me where we were going. All he told me so far was that we were having a proper date but then he contradicted himself by telling the cab driver to go to the airport.
We slowly walked to the checkout desk. Jasper put me down and we slowly walked to the desk where you buy the tickets. I heard Jasper say it was Italy, where we were going. I smiled to myself. I always wanted to go to Italy. Italy is such a nice place.
In the little television that said the flight schedule and our flight to Italy was leaving in half an hour. We walked through the airport quickly through all the security checks. Not many of the officers checked us. We just walked past all the checks. We walked in silence but both of us were smiling for no apparent reason. We got to th
After allHeavy snow.
Roads were kept closed all day.
Day went away quickly, blue to gold to pink to purple
stretched itself, stretching with it my soul I spent so much time sewing on its edges
until the street lamps turned on
oddly two by two
and evening found me alone in front of the fireplace
opening manufactured wishing cards from several foundations for my eightieth Christmas.
Card by card my moves grew heavier.
"You have to slow down!" you cried out.
"Set your priorities! Think about your personal life a bit!"
Oh, for chrissakes put yourself where you belong in this world.
What priorities? Love isn't for the 25-year-olds.
We have an individual future, a career, we lack time - at least I do.
December was really cold that year, ash coloured clouds passing quickly and freezing wind creeping through your trousers
along your spine
all the way up to your neck.
Ten minutes ago I was staring blankly at the water currents flowing down the shut maple door.
Like the water b
Hope Left In The Box
Conner flips a page of his magazine.
I just keep standing there, looking down at him, shaking with each new wave of fury that courses through me like the beginning waves of a terrible coastal storm. Hands balled into fists, tears dripping down my cheeks while I try to pretend they aren't there at all."No, you don't get it. I'm really pissed off."
Flip. "I heard you. It's understandable. I'd be angry, too."
Without thought, I lash out and yank the magazine from his steady hands, ripping it apart and throwing the scattered pieces like jagged snowflakes around the room. "WHY DOES HE DO THINGS LIKE THIS!?" I roar, my chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes wider than they should have been. "A LOVING GOD? REALLY? WHAT SORT OF LOVER MURDERS A PERSON?"
Conner looks up at me, blinks twice, and reaches for an identical magazine in his school bag. "Our God does lots of things we don't understand. In fact, I think it's probably one of the most important things
Friendship Dances Her face seemed made of flint when she looked that way. Grandma wanted to take her old wagon down to the southern reservation. It was up to me to show her the truth she already knew. Like all of us did she also had an Indian name, one not often used since that was our way. Now she only used Grandma Susan. It used to be Susie when her husband was alive, but times changed, he died, and Grandma's English name changed too.
Grandma Susan followed me to the river to look at her wagon, now with its four wooden wheels sort of thinned out and sinking into the earth. That was the way it should be and she knew it. Grandma only wanted to remember when it was her covered wagon and preferred way to travel. The two big horses that used to pull it were in the earth already.
"That was a good wagon, Anna," she said. "Your Grandpa and me went all over in that thing. It's sure feelin poorly now though, ain't it?"