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  1. i drew another boinkkle because why not. hewkii sharing a love friend moment link: http://orig00.deviantart.net/38e8/f/2017/106/d/e/thanks_for_the_swimming_lessons_by_reier-db63mwp.png speedpaint or whatever video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ESd0xzRt5VI
  2. Perp

    Afterword

    A F T E R W O R D The deep-orange suns were sinking into the horizon, sending shimmers of light on the cracked, worn path. Its dark surface was warm against the traveller's tired feet, if somewhat rough and dry. The traveller wondered why the path shimmered like it did in the dry seasons; some sort of magic, perhaps? The local shaman said so. He’d pointed to the suns setting on the horizon, on a day like this, telling the traveller that fire leapt from them and illuminated the path, causing it to shimmer. The traveller, being curious, asked how, and why they did that. The shaman had just clicked his teeth and shrugged. He said the suns were weary; they set fire to the path and sky so that the night could be lit while they rested. Both he and the traveller were skeptical of that, though. The sky oft filled with clouds, even at after sundown, obscuring the glowing starlight. The traveller didn’t like the clouds. They were omens of the blowing wind, kicking up dust and getting sand in his eyes and joints. That wasn’t the case today, however. The traveller could see no clouds. There was just enough light so that he could see the village just up ahead. The white flags just outside the temple were easy to spot. The shamans who inhabited the temple claimed it and the flags were older than all of the ancestors of the village - they said the Spirits had left the temple behind for their great-grandfathers to discover. Had there been no light to illuminate the path, the traveller could still smell the temple before he saw it. The thick scent of iron, like the smell of the metalworker’s forge, permeated the air around the ancient structure. The smell emanated from the numerous piles of metallic flakes, scattered around the temple’s courtyard. The piles had other objects within them, shaped plates, like that of armor, which were made of a strange material, almost like stone. The shamans strictly forbade any from touching or modifying the piles. They claimed that the Spirits had used these piles as incenses, and enchanting perfumes from whatever rites they practiced. Therefore, the piles were the property of the the Spirits, and they were not to be touched by the unclean. The traveller considered how these strange, smelling piles could have been anyone’s property. Even stranger were the symbols atop the external spire of the temple: The traveller didn’t know what they meant, neither did the shamans, but they claimed they were the symbols of the Spirits. He shook his head and moved on, walking into the village, where more concrete matters awaited him.
  3. Christian Rider recently lost his father to cancer. The loss hit Christian hard. He grew up admiring his father. They spent all of their free time together going fishing, bowling, and playing or watching sports. Now he no longer played or went to the lake. He just slept or sat on the sofa. It had been over a month since his death, but Christian couldn't get over the fact that he had lost his best friend, and that everything in his hometown reminded him of him. So he went to his mother and asked if they would go away for the rest of the summer. She agreed and the next day, they left for his grandma's, who lived one state over in Minnesota. Once settled, Christian went for run around the town, while mom spoke with grandma. He ran for several blocks before he stopped for a breath. The sun was already beginning to set, so he decided to head back. As he turned to track back, he noticed someting blue floating in the sky. With closer observation through squinting and walking towards it, he determined it to be a balloon with what appeared to be some black writing on its sides. It chalked it up to having had blown away from some kid or adult at a birthday party or other celebration. He didn't think it came from around here though, since he could hear no laughter or any other sounds or signs that would signify the fact that a party was occurring. He assumed it probably got caught by the breeze from earlier and blew to this neighborhood and got caught on some telephone wire or tree branch or whatever else that got into its path, luckily without bursting. There was no wind now, so it must've just been released from its prison, and began its upward journey to meet the clouds or get hit by a plane or bird or something. He so wished he could be free like the balloon from all the pain he was feeling, but all he could do was shrug and jog back home. He ate supper, thanked his grandma for letting them come and stay there for awhile, and for the supper she prepared, before retiring to his room to go to sleep. He slept most of the next day until his mom made him get up and have brunch with his grandma and her. Afterwards, he flipped through the channels on the tv for awhile until he landed on a Twins' game. He and his dad used to watch them all the time during the last bit of the school year until summer vacation. His dad grew up here with his mom, dad, and sister, so they were his favorite team. His dad's dad used to take his father to the games until he became an adult, got married, and moved away for a great job opportunity. Soon after, his mother became pregnant with Christian. His father promised to one day take Christian to a Twins' game, but now that wouldn't be happening. Christian became sad remembering his father's words, so he turned off the TV and went to go for another run. After running several blocks like he did the day before, he stopped and stood beneath the shade of a tree. He then watched the sun go down over the lake just across the road, atop the hill overlooking it. He had noticed the shimmery blue water reflecting the sunlight off the surface of the water and found himself walking towards it. He sat there watching the people walking along the sand of the small lake and saw some kids swimming and splashing water at each other. He listened to the laughter and screams of the children and got lost in the sounds and beauty that was below him. It didn't last long though, as he saw a father chasing his young daughter around, before lifing her high into the air and bringing him back to his chest. Soon memories poured from his head and reached his heart, releasing a single tear, which found its way past the barrier he had put up after his death. As the sun began disappearing, he stood up and began his walk back. When he got back to the street, he noticed another blue balloon floating above the houses across the street. He thought it was just a coincidence, that maybe it too had gotten stuck, or maybe both had been tied to a pole or something, and they were slowly breaking free. He ignored it as he continued home, but after dinner, he went to his room and laid in his bed, unable to fall asleep and staring at the ceiling, because he couldn't ignore it anymore. He thought he could forget about that silly balloon, but his blue walls and the blue shirt his grandma was wearing, didn't help him to do so. He decided he would go back again tomorrow and see that it was nothing more than a mere coincidence. The next morning, while Christian's mother and grandmother were eating breakfast, they saw him appear before them. Their jaws dropped at the fact that he was awake so early and that he had wished them a 'good' morning. He grabbed two pancakes from the stack on the plate and a glass of milk before going back to his room. They didn't understand what caused this change in Christian. Later on in the day, his grandmother got a bigger shock. He asked if she knew where he could find a set of binoculars. She told him that his grandfather had put it in a box that he took to the basement, but that it was such a mess down there, she didn't know where he had put it, or if he'd be able to find. Later she walked by the basement door and heard strange noises. When she opened the door and went down the stairs, she noticed that it was clean. All the boxes were placed on the shelves near the back wall and that they were marked, while the floor appeared to have been swept. She heard a noise to the left and saw Christian carrying the final box over to the shelves. On the desk next to him, were the binoculars. After placing the final box on a shelf, he turned to see his grandma descend the last two stairs with huge eyes staring at him. He explained that it took him awhile to find the box and since he wasn't busy with anything else, he just kept going after he found them. She tried to hold back tears as she went to hug him. She was so happy, she wanted to cook his favorite meal; lemon pepper chicken with mashed potatoes and sweet corn. They both went back upstairs and Christian took a quick shower while his grandma prepared supper. After his shower, Christian threw on a tee and some jeans, grabbed the binoculars, and told his grandma that he would back and that there was something he had to do before supper was done. Her only words were 'okay'. He saw the sun was starting to fade, so he ran until he reached his destination. He brought the binoculars to his face and began searching for a possible balloon drifting in the small breeze this evening. He waited ten minutes, looking through the binoculars at the houses where the balloons could've came from. The sun was close to gone and he knew supper was probably done. He was filled with disappointment, half-hoping the balloons weren't some sort of coincidence, so he put the binoculars arond his neck He then pulled them back off as he saw it; a blue balloon appeared above the trees. He looked through the binoculars at the backs of houses until he saw a figure moving around. He then went over and peered over the bush beside the fence of the figure's backyard. There was a girl about his age with short blonde hair staring up at the balloon. Although he was curious why she was letting off these balloons every night, he quickly shyed away from communicating with her. He turned to leave, but then heard the girl speak. "Hey!" He looked back as she was making the last couple of strides to the fence, so he turned back and walked up to her. "What are you doing?" "Nothing. I was just taking a walk and I noticed your balloon." "So you were watching me?" "No. No. It's just that I've been seeing your balloons for the last couple of nights and I was wondering where they came from is all." "What's your name?" "Christian." "Oh! I am sorry to hear about your dad. Your grandmother was telling me about your father and about you after it happened." "You know my grandmother?" "Yea. I live with my grandma and your grandma comes over a couple times a week to play bridge with my grandma and a few other grandparents in the neighborhood. I join them once in awhile as well when I don't have homework or work to do. She hadn't come for a few weeks and I had heard from my grandma about her losing her son. She came about four days ago to play again and she began telling us about him and about you." "Oh I see." "Yea! My name is Trinity by the way. So...how are you handling it? Have things gotten better for you? " "I don't know. Just one day at a time, I guess." "I know how you feel. I lost my parents seven years ago in a car accident." "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" "Don't worry! It's alright! I mean at first I thought it was the end of the world, but after the first couple of weeks, my grandma gave me an idea to help me get through the pain I was feeling of losing them." "What was that?" "Come on. I'll show you." She opened the latch on the gate and invited him into the backyard. He followed her to the stairs and waited as she went inside. She emerged a few moments later with a bag of balloons, some sort of a tank, and two black markers. She opened the bag and placed it in front of Christian. "Here. Pick one." "What for?" "You'll see. Now pick your favorite one." He stared at her for a moment before reaching into the bag and pulling out a green one. She placed the bag on the porch step and went up to the tank. She filled them up with air and he tied them off. "Okay. Now take this marker and write down everything you want to say to your father. Write until you run out of room. I'll do the same." "I don't think I can do that. I don't even know what to write." "Write anything you want. Tell him how you feel or what's new in your life or how much you miss him. It doesn't matter what you write as long as it comes from the heart." "I guess I'll try." They both sit down on the porch with their balloons between their legs as they write. Christian wrote how much he missed his father and how he was staying with grandma for awhile and that mom was doing well. He wrote until he ran out of room on the balloon. Trinity then told him to stand up and follow her. He followed her to the middle of the backyard, cradling the balloon carefully in his arms. "Alright! Now what?" "Isn't it obvious? You let it go and it'll fly up above the clouds to your father, so he can see what you wrote." She tossed hers up to the air and it began to go higher and higher. She turned to see Christian staring at his balloon still in his hands. She then went over and grabbed one of his hands and held it tight. "It'll be okay. Trust me. This helped me so much when I lost my parents. I was so happy that my grandma had helped me find a way to send messages to my mother and father. She actually works at a party store and that's how we have the helium tank, so when she saw how much I was hurting, she thought this was worth a shot, and I did it. I was still sad, but I felt a huge sense of relief as well. I've been doing it almost every day since and I only use blue balloons because that was their favorite color. You can do this too, okay?" He looked at her for a moment in her hazel eyes and then released the balloon. It rose above them and relief washed over Christian's body. She was right. It felt so good to have written all of it down on that balloon and release it. He watched it until it disappeared and then turned to Trinity and thanked her for giving him the balloon and marker. They talked for a few minutes more until he realized his grandma and mother were waiting for him. She told him he could come back again if he wanted and that she always did it at sunset because she remembered watching the sun go down with her parents on their porch swing with she was younger. He agreed to come back and hurried home; he had much to think about.
  4. The Best Thing to Say Kate Huong was awakened in the morning by the ringing of a phone. She opened her eyes and blinked them sleepily. Her momentary disorientation faded fast; she was not at home but in the tidy if small guest bedroom of her grandparents’ house, lying on one bed while her younger brother, Zachary, lay on the one to her left. Yes. In her grandparents’ house. But only Grandmom was home. Her stomach grew suddenly upset. In response, she curled up and shifted underneath her blankets, too cold to forsake their comfort. The digital clock on the bedside drawer read 6:38 AM. Too early. Kate shut her eyes again, hoping sleep would follow soon after. The ringing stopped. Her grandmother’s voice filled the silence in its place. “...Yes... Right, I understand... Thank you...” Click. Kate tried opening her eyes again. She could hear more voices now: her parents engaging Grandmom in conversation. The murmurs proceeded for perhaps a minute; then footsteps approached the guest bedroom, the door opened, and Grandmom delivered the news. * * * The Saturday morning was cold in the manner of most autumn morns, but it was not unpleasant. The Huongs, however, had no time to enjoy it. They, plus Grandmom, were packed in their well-worn black Chevy Equinox and off to the hospital within minutes. Zach, as most twelve-year-old boys would, complained about the lack of breakfast but was stymied by his mother’s terse censures. This, said Mom, was more important. They entered the hospital, where the parents and grandmother whisked the children through hallways that looked the same, into a set of elevators with mirrored interiors, and down another hallway into one of the patient wings. Grandpop’s room number was engraved in Kate’s memory as it was in the gold plate that was mounted beside the door. He was wheezing weakly when his family entered. Transparent pipes ran up his nostrils and, Kate had been told, down into his throat. Kate had asked her grandfather on a visit some weeks ago if the pipes bothered him, and her parents had made very clear on their way back home that such questions should not (the word “not” was emphatically iterated and reiterated) be asked of a patient, and Kate had learned in her sixteen years of life that vocal disagreement with her parents would accomplish nothing. The question about the pipes seemed moot then and there, in Grandpop’s ascetic white hospital room, as he took what the doctors said would be his last breaths and Kate’s stomach levitated. When Grandmom got nervous, she also got fussy, hence why she was asking for the second time if the doctor to whom she was speaking had given Grandpop painkillers. “Yes,” said the doctor, a dark-skinned woman with braided hair and a nameplate on her medical coat that read Von Dyke, and she proceeded to list a series of names that sounded more dangerous than helpful. Grandmom seemed appeased. The doctor left soon afterward. Alone now, the Huongs crowded round the bed. Grandpop’s eyes seemed closed, but his eyelids were twitching. “Can you hear me, John?” asked Grandmom; Grandpop seemed to nod slightly, but the movement could have been involuntary. “Shh,” said Mom unnecessarily. “Come on, now, tell Grandpop how much you love him. Zach, you first.” Zach took his place by Grandpop’s head, leaned over, and said, “I love you, Grandpop.” He paused, trying to think of more words, but then sucked in a breath and held it as he moved aside for Kate. Grandpop’s breaths sounded more painful up close. Kate bent her knees to move her mouth nearer to Grandpop’s ear but couldn’t speak. She breathed through her nose to calm her jittery nerves and thought. “I love you” seemed inadequate, but “we’ll miss you” was too depressing; “get better soon” was out of the question, as was a simple goodbye; and Kate, at this moment, felt nowhere near eloquent enough to vocalize, without being depressing, how hollow she felt and how sorry she was that her Grandpop wouldn’t live to see her and Zach grow to adulthood. She felt acutely the barriers of spoken language and, on a whim, wished Grandpop could read her mind. But he couldn’t. Kate knew that. She also knew that her whispered, “I love you too, Grandpop; we all do,” was not the right thing to be saying. If it wasn’t the best thing to say, though, what was? She sat soberly on the chair nearest the window as her parents and Grandmom said their goodbyes. The sky outside was streaked with clouds that glowed with incandescent colors, red and orange and gold: a beautiful sunrise, but when she was called to leave the room with Zach and her parents led them to the hospital cafeteria, she could only think of sunsets.
  5. PB & J Matt was crushed. His friends told him had a flair for the dramatic, but this time, he was not exaggerating. His heart, crushed. His happiness, crushed. His mind, crushed. His body, crushed. Well, maybe not his body. That would be unfortunate. “Hey, man, how’s it going?” Ryan slapped him across the shoulder as he swaggered by. The guy could never simply walk, could he? Matt gave his best grin. “Great, just fantastic.” “You sure?” His mouth was concerned, but his eyes were laughing. “Thought I saw you had a spill on the waves out there.” Matt wanted to punch him. He didn’t. “Yeah, fine.” “Let me know if you need any help, all right?” The lifeguard punched him again, this time on the opposite shoulder. “I’m getting on the stand now.” As soon as Ryan continued his strut to the lifeguard stand, Matt stomped off, sand puffing up in little white clouds with each step. That guy. On top of everything else… He stopped himself from muttering a few appropriate curses as a family tramped onto the beach and crossed his path, lugging their cooler, chairs, umbrella, and buckets full of plastic toys. He could have moved around the train of people, but his muscles were too sore for him to be overexerting them. So he waited. For all he knew, it could have been a railroad crossing. The twin red-headed boys galloped ahead, yelling about finding sharks. Then the pregnant mother and a swarm of elementary-aged girls inched along, squealing something unintelligible. A toddler boy came tripping along next. A beautiful girl with golden hair and freckles speckling her arms held the little boy’s hand. Matt didn’t stare. They moved by too quickly for that. So he ambled closer to the water, his surfboard tucked underneath his arm, and plopped down onto the sand. As he closed his eyes and lay his head down, he felt the late afternoon sun baking his skin. He knew he’d wake up looking like a lobster, but he didn’t care anymore. He couldn’t believe his misfortune. He had been sitting on the beach after his humiliating fall on the waves, minding his own business. His delicious roast beef and provolone sandwich on a hoagie roll was on the sand, just waiting for him. So he waited till his hands dried, unwrapped the perfect specimen, and opened his mouth to sink his teeth into that delicious sandwich. Then it was gone. Quick as lighting, the evil gull darted in, snagged his entire sandwich, and flew out. Matt’s stomach rumbled. He was so hungry he could have eaten a cow. Well, if he couldn’t eat, he might as well sleep. **** The scream jerked him awake. His eyes flew open, and he jumped to his feet. He instantly saw two heads in the water, disappearing and reappearing. A quick glance at the lifeguard stand revealed it to be empty. Ryan was already in the water, his arms cutting through the choppy waves like butter. At least he was doing his job. Matt watched for a few seconds before he realized the kids were panicking. Ryan couldn’t do it alone. Matt leapt in. He was on swim team at school, but none of that mattered now. He reached them in fourteen strokes. The two red-headed boys were kicking and flailing their limbs in every possible direction. The ‘rescue’, if that’s what it was called, was a blur. Matt just knew he somehow got back to shore, a five-year-old boy in tow. Miraculously, the boy hadn’t strangled him in the process. His mother scooped him up, and the entire family swooped around them. Matt got lost somewhere in the fringes of the circle. So he strolled a little farther down the beach and dropped down to the sand. He wasn’t much of an artist, but the sunset was pretty, a swirl of purple and orange and yellow. Suddenly his stomach let out a monstrous growl. “Shush,” he ordered. “Matt?” He turned and stared. It was the beautiful girl with the golden hair. “Are you Matt? Ryan told me that was your name,” she explained and smiled brilliantly. “Uh, yeah,” he nodded. “I wanted to say-” “You saved my life!” Matt felt a pair of chubby little arms squeezing his neck. Trying not to cough dramatically, he simply extricated himself from the clutches of the boy. “Yeah, kid,” he said, awkwardly. “How about making a huge sand fort with your brother now?” The boy’s eyes grew huge. “Jeremy!” He yelled, running off. “That fort will be bigger than the beach,” the girl said seriously, her brown twinkling. “Thank you.” She sat down next to him. “Well, you’re welcome.” Matt didn’t know what else to say. “Oh, want a sandwich? My mom made too many.” Without waiting for him to accept it, she handed him a sandwich. “Sorry. It’s only PB and J.” Matt looked at the sandwich, then at the sunset, and then back at the girl. He was a whole man again. ***** -JG
  6. The beat-up old car loudly ground to a halt a few feet from the shore. As the ignition shut off, the door flung open, and out stepped a disheveled man in his late twenties. He adjusted his sunglasses and looked out over the lake, watching the sun slowly descend towards the horizon. It’s almost time. He sat down on the bumper of his car and pulled out his phone. Pressing a few buttons brought up a string of text messages, all from an anonymous sender, but each beginning with the same four letters: JANE. The phone suddenly rang, nearly making him drop it in shock. Scrambling onto his feet, he answered, “Hello?!” “…m…” The voice on the other end of the line was garbled with static. Even still, he recognized it immediately. “To…Tom…Tom, can yo…er me?” He sighed with relief. “Barely. Is it time?” “Not qui…but we’re almo…ady. Just hold on—the connection should stabi…as we get closer.” “Alright. Just tell me when.” Tom walked around to the back of his car and opened the trunk. Inside was a bizarre radio-like device labeled in an unknown alphabet, with an extendable antenna that, at its highest, reached three feet above the roof of the car. “It’s ready,” Tom reported. “Waiting for your signal.” “Okay. Heh…the waiting is the worst part, isn’t it?” “It’s bad, but…I wouldn’t say it’s the worst part.” There was no reply. Tom watched as the sun fell lower and lower, each second feeling like an hour. At last, the phone spoke up, “Alright, counting down! 5…4…3…2…1…now!” With one fluid motion, Tom flipped a switch on the radio and turned its dial to the maximum setting. An earsplitting noise filled the air, making Tom wince, but he endured and watched as the sun finally began to pass the horizon. The air around him felt heavy, and a feeling akin to blacking out washed over him. He grabbed the car to steady himself. Before very long, the feeling passed, and he stood up again. “Tom?” The voice wasn’t coming from the phone. Tom turned around to find that the road he had travelled had vanished, replaced by a mirror duplicate of the shoreline, trapping him on a tiny spit of land. Another car sat on the opposite shore, and next to it stood a smiling young woman in a lab coat. Tom felt his emotions surge. Fighting back tears, he whispered, “…Jane…” The two of them rushed towards each other, locking into a firm embrace and sharing a passionate kiss. When their connection was broken, Tom tentatively reached up and brushed his hand against Jane’s face. “Nice to see you again,” Jane chuckled. Gently wriggling free of Tom’s arms, she strode over to his car and examined the device before looking up at the sky. The sun had also been duplicated, placing the reunion squarely between two equally magnificent sunsets. “You said you found something?” Tom asked as he walked up beside her. “You know, about why this only works on the equinox?” Jane nodded. “I did. The technology over here is much more advanced—you could almost call it magic. It turns out that dimensions run in paths similar to planets, and the equinox brings our worlds exactly parallel to each other. Further research has shown that a proper mix of sunlight and moonlight, when exposed to a compatible radio disturbance, create a transdimensional phenomenon that allows temporary melding of…” She looked over at Tom, who was furrowing his brow in confusion. “…Er…broadcasting the right signal in the right place at the right time pulls both worlds together temporarily.” “Oh,” Tom said. “That makes sense…I guess.” Jane smiled, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “Don’t worry about it. The point is, we’re able to see each other, at least for a little while.” Tom tried to smile, but it was short-lived. Jane took a few wandering steps and went back to staring up at the heavens. “…I still haven’t figured out exactly what caused me to be thrown over here, though,” she quietly admitted. “Even this world’s science has its limits. In the end…I’m too powerless to bring us together for real.” Tom put a hand on her shoulder. “This is real. It may be temporary, but it’s real. And it’s all because of your work.” Jane closed her eyes and grasped Tom’s hand. “…Thanks.” She turned around to face Tom. “So…what do you want to do?” “To be honest, I was hoping we could just talk. You know, like we always used to.” “That sounds perfect.” So they talked. They sat down and held each other close, talking about whatever came to mind as they watched the rays from both suns slowly fade from the sky. Every now and then they would pause to cry, pause to laugh, or pause to kiss. They treasured each moment, but they could do nothing to halt the passage of time. Both suns had set, and the last traces of their light were quickly being erased by the night. “…I think it’s time,” Jane said. Tom nodded. “I know.” They stood up and walked closer to the water. Tom wrapped his arms around Jane, trying his best to stop from trembling. “It’ll be alright, Tom. I’ll keep working. There has to be some way to recreate the portal, and I promise I’ll find it.” “Just don’t overwork yourself, alright? I don’t like having to wait so long to see you, but it would be worse if you burned out.” “Hehe. You’re always so worried about me.” The darkness thickened around them. Tom braced himself for what he knew was coming. Taking a deep breath, Jane whispered, “Tom…I love you.” “I love you too, J—“ In an instant she disappeared from his arms. The last light of the day was gone, and the road back had returned. Tom was alone once more. This is the worst part, he thought.
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