Display Cabinet eyed her latest prey: a man seeking a present for his mistress. His demeanour made it clear that he sought something to impress, not something to give with love.

Display breathed her siren message, audible to him alone. “Reach out for me, for what’s inside me. I’m all yours.”

The man reached out, felt Display’s silky touch. “I’d like the diamond bracelet in that cabinet please.” Ten minutes later he was gone, having paid twice what the bracelet was worth.

The owner patted the cabinet’s top. “That’s why I only use the best display cabinets,” she said, smugly.

Carlos struggled for a decision. Should he pursue a relationship with Alice?
The chemistry was there, no doubt about that.

But . . . he couldn’t get near her without serious allergic reactions. The last one had been life-threatening.

She swore it wasn’t, couldn’t be, her cat.

Still, did it really matter what it was? He just couldn’t afford it. He was self -employed, and until ACA kicked in, he couldn’t pay for any more trips to the emergency room -- not to mention the danger to his health and life.

So he made a firm New Year’s resolution.

“Phew, what a year,” reflected Catherine, noting how nice it was not to feel the customary disappointment she usually experienced on the last day of December.

Career dissatisfaction had marked earlier years – a feeling of being stuck in a rut and unable to escape. This time she had made the leap, abandoning a safe office job for the uncertainties of freelancing and a vow to become a published writer.

Sometimes, dream achievement takes a different form from what was originally intended. Publication, via rather a few 100-word stories on a website, had proved to be very satisfying indeed.

Rejoice posted this in two parts on the same (final) day in 2013. We've chosen to print them as one single post so that they read better on this blog.

PART ONE

It had been a busy morning at the office. I couldn’t wait to go out for some fresh air. As I was leaving, the phone rang. I answered it and thought I recognised the voice of the Accountant who’d been asking me out. He’d been quiet lately and I concluded that he’d lost interest. This was going to be a good day after all.

With my heart beating a little faster I smiled and said, “Hey, stranger…”

The voice cut in. “Ms Jackson your test results are back. You need to come to the surgery as soon as possible."


PART TWO

The doctor looked up as she walked into his office, “Ah, Ms Jackson, you’re here. Please take a seat.”

He pulled out an envelope from his drawer, opened his mouth to speak and hesitated.

“Why don’t you just tell me what it says?” she pleaded.

He pulled out a sheet of paper which he placed in front of her. The words jumped out at her, then she screamed, “I’ve made it into medical school!”

It was a tender moment as father and daughter hugged each other. It was a good day after all.

"This is a test. It is only a test. Had this been a real emergency, you would have been directed to tune into your local Emergency Broadcast Channel for further information and instructions. The following signal will last for ten seconds; your usual programming will then resume."

The blaring shrieking scream of the siren began for its ten-second life and then stopped. The soap opera resumed but was suddenly interrupted by the same annoying siren.

"This is an announcement of the Emergency Broadcast System. There's been a disaster. All residents of Smallville, Kansas must immediately evacuate to the high school gym."

I rode the bus home with an excruciating headache. It ruthlessly crept its way across my skull, painfully slithering its way through every narrow curve of my brain.

While at work, sharp claws had dug deep below the norm, and I was forced to excuse myself. I asked to go home.

My eyes were watering, bloodshot, while standing in the back isle of the bus, holding on to the overhead metal bar they offer their standing passengers.

"Ah, my stop is coming up," reaching for the cord to stop.

Darkness.

I held him in my arms. We both knew he shouldn't be here. I kissed his face, and he tenderly touched mine. We lay together for what seemed like such a short time, cuddling, caressing.
Then he said, "I have to go. She'll be looking for me."
We both knew it had to be.
Then, slowly, Alice's cat got up and left.

What’s this I feel on the side of my neck? I could swear it’s ... gills. Better go for a swim in the ocean to test them out. Wow! So many moving creatures, colorful vegetation, sights I’d never seen. And check out the sun’s light filtering dimly through the roof of the water’s surface. Who knew all I was missing from dry land? And the feeling of swimming without worrying about air? Exhilarating. Call me a believer. I may have found a new underwater home.

Carlos awoke in the emergency room. He remembered nothing of how he got there. A woman in blue scrubs and one in a white jacket stood nearby.

“Extreme allergic reaction,” explained the one in white. “He got here just in time. Check his blood pressure again, and if it’s OK, he can go.”

The woman in blue put a cuff on his arm, pumped it up, read a gauge and smiled. “There’s someone waiting for you,” she told him.

Alice hurried in, wearing a concerned expression and the same faux fur coat.

Carlos sneezed. Sneezed again. And again.

The tears won't stop. Who am I to play God? The face of Kali, the yellow lab, will be with me forever. My writing partner for 14 years, now what? Void. Empty. Sad. The adjectives are endless -- the holidays will never be the same.

Dear oh dear oh dear – what was a girl to do? A (potential) new man comes into her life and yet he appeared to suffer a terrible affliction.

“You could give up the cat,” a voice whispered in her ear. It actually sounded like Danny. Was he trying to push her into another's arms?

Alice was torn. Carlos was so... impressive. Her cat was so... Well, what was the cat?

“One of those new breeds!” the cat snapped in her ears. “The ones bred specially for people with allergies. Whatever he's sneezing at, it AIN'T me.”

1. A beautiful row of four italic 1’s, crème colored. Address numbers. A family lived there. Four people. Perfect. Yes, you’d think but you’d be wrong.

Always, only, and forever - one + one + one + one; can you believe it, not once did a single one ever honestly meet any one of the others?
Someone should have cut the house into four thick squares and left some breathing room. There would have been fewer screams, less pain, and safer lonesomeness.
One by one they left with their shadows and their secrets.
1111 now equals four luscious Bougainvillea flowers.

The fight to take our lives back is over!
Oh, yes, logic and reason were very relieved to return to the fold of collective human intelligences, and realigned the trust.

Finally, all enterprise is time-sensitive and simultaneously enhances ecological wellbeing on Earth and in our species.

Discover. Exercise. Elevate.
Service must address and evolve contemporary needs. Service rendered, everyone moves on. Next?

Clean air has finally stopped making us dizzy.
The taste in veggies is back.
Earth is not parceled and owned.
We are denizens of a richly diversified world.

No locks on the door, no one to fear.
2014?

Alice screamed inwardly: another telesales phone call.

“Good evening, madam. I’m calling from Wenceslas Energy. Can we interest you in one of our new winter fuel packages?”

“No.”

“You’re using solid fuel – kindling. Is that correct?”

“Yes, but – ”

“We can offer a better deal than your existing supplier.”

“But my kindling is free!” Alice yelled.

“Sign up today, we’ll throw in a free meal, with complimentary wine.”

“Just one meal?”

The caller sighed. “We ARE a commercial organisation, madam.” There was silence, then he said, “So can I interest you, madam?”

Silence.

“Madam?”

But the phone had gone dead....

Carlos awoke in the emergency room. He remembered nothing of how he got there. A woman in blue scrubs and one in a white jacket stood nearby.

“Extreme allergic reaction,” said the one in white. “He got here just in time. Check his blood pressure again, and if it’s OK, he can go.”

The woman in blue put a cuff on his arm, pumped it up, read a gauge and smiled. “There’s someone waiting for you,” she told him.

Alice hurried in, wearing a concerned expression and the same faux fur coat.

Carlos sneezed. Sneezed again. And again.

Three wise men were waiting patiently for the trans-desert express.

Jimmy said, “Thankfully we’re old enough to get free travel nowadays, boys. The cost of the fares is skyrocketing.”

“What’s your gift?” Tam asked. “I’m taking chocolate coins wrapped in gold paper.”

“Frankinsence deodorant,” Jimmy replied. “You, Willie?”

“Myrrh baby lotion.”

Suddenly, they were blinded by a dazzling light in the sky. Fumbling vainly for their spectacles, they realised too late that their bus was sailing past their stop - without them.

“Damn,” said Jimmy. “When’s the next one?”

Willie checked the app on his mobile. “Twelve days from now.”

Carlos was ecstatic. At last he had met Alice. She had agreed to meet him for a drink, and had actually arrived a few minutes before he did. They were hitting it off. They seemed to have interests in common and a similar outlook on life.

When she said she must go, he asked for her phone number and she gave it to him. Things were looking good. He went to fetch her coat, and brushed a few stray hairs off its sleeve.

Then – disaster. He suddenly sneezed. He couldn’t stop sneezing, couldn’t talk, could hardly breathe.

“Do it!”
“Why?”
“Because I said so!”
“No.”
They hit me. “Do it now!”
My body trembled. My head trembled. My mind shook.
I didn’t want to. My life would never be the same.
Those dagger hard eyes sure scare me.
Does it matter that I know right from wrong?
No.
It’s hurt or be hurt, right?
My whole life shook.
I didn’t want to die but if I did what they said my life –as I knew it – was over.
I knew what I had to do.
Did I have the courage?
Was my life that important?
Yes.

He follows me from room to room, and if he wakes and finds me gone he tracks me round the house, his nose pressed to the floor.
His eyes and ears no longer serve, but his nose is keen as when he was a pup. And once he finds where I have gone, he digs a place that never seems to be quite right.
He turns around a couple of times, then comes to lie beside me.
There is no greater love.

No humans or animals were harmed in the making of this story.


Demi appeared confident as she marched down the Milan catwalk, but she was worried. She’d spotted it on each of her four previous forays to the end of the stage, and back, too. It really shouldn’t have been a problem, but now the lighting had been darkened to show off her dazzlingly-sequined dress.

Then it happened. Her stilleto heel went straight into the tiny hole left in the floor by a careless set-constructor. At first she tripped to an abrupt halt, then the ultimate nightmare – the heel sheared off completely, leaving her feeling as naked as the day she was born.

Gloria, for you and others weary of cats....

To crown their brief and furious affair, she bought a cat. Knowing her only briefly, his passion easily incorporated the presence of a cat. To each, the cat seemed to symbolize a fruit of their new life together, a nascent family that was perhaps their ultimate purpose. The cat predictably ingratiated itself into the relationship. Was her enamored attention diverted from him, if just a bit? Was his masculine independence more evident in his playful jealousy? Of course, who left who was not a pressing issue for long. Few things are less interesting to a cat that mere human affection.

The little girl ran after the wave receding back into the ocean and stood there, her tiny feet sinking slightly in the wet sand.
“Come bb-back,” she called, “come bb-back!”
Then, she stood silent and still, waiting, and watching the imperceptible densification of water molecules color the sea different. Smiling, she patted her chubby, bare thighs. Yes, yes, the sea was rising, getting ready.
Yes, yes, her giggle erupted. Yes, yes, her hands shot in the air and her body got ready to run.
Yes, yes, the wave was coming for her!
Now!
It was beyond exciting...it was life!

He was back in Keshequa Junction and the girls were dead. There was a loaded shotgun on the back porch wall behind the violins and a rusty washing machine beside a bullet-riddled refrigerator. Customers wore overalls, plaid and denim, tipping the wine, catching the morning buzz after the graveyard shift. Then he was in school, the end of the school year, field day, and amazing games and races, spoon, water balloon, sack, three-legged, angel food, and dinosaur erasers at the strawberry festival while a school band played, “In the Good Old Summerime.”

At 8 am Pam balanced precariously on a chair and managed to hitch her leg up over the bottom half of the storm door. Her exploratory foot sank into the snow. Momentarily she panicked. What if I can't dig myself in again? Shoveling 12 cubic feet of snow took an hour. No truck yet. She just managed to squeeze through the door.

Baking and washing dishes finally thawed her fingers. She returned to the balcony, another 15 cubic feet disappeared. Paperwork filled the evening. UPS never came. At 9 pm the text came: Sorry. Send package back. You have Dad's.

Tingling – the first sensation I ever remember feeling. It spread from outer points inward, strengthened, increased, and . . . I came into being. At first I felt no body, no substance. Just effervescence. Then slowly, gently I felt myself coalesce as air around me continued cooling deliciously.

Gradually I became aware of a most beautiful creature before me, like a bit of perfectly-formed lace. She gazed at me. ”You’re beautiful.” Newly born we were, yet our destiny sang within us. ”Shall we dance?” Slowly, lightly, we began our descent, circling, dancing, floating, among millions of our newborn kin.