A "Guardian Angel"

I take a deep breath as the figure exits the building. They are so beautiful. The way they walk, the way the dress- absolutely exquisite. I follow them, discretely of course (they can't know about me just yet, the time is not right) as they walk. I know where they are going but I still follow behind anyway. I pretend that we are walking together. Their phone rings and they answer it. I feel a stab of jealousy. They should be talking to me. Their intoxicating voice should be echoing through my ears, not the ears of someone else who does not appreciate and love them the way I do. They laugh, a heavenly sound, and the jealousy renews. They should be laughing at my jokes. I follow them until they return home, watching and absorbing their every move. The jealousy still smolders. It has been long enough. Tonight, I will make myself known. I will let them know that they have a "guardian angel" that loves them and is watching over them.

Insta-Learn

"You can learn anything! Insta-Learn lets you download new knowledge and skills directly into your brain. No more grueling training sessions, no more boring lectures! Learn what you want when you want!"
     I gave a small grunt after the commercial ended. When I was younger, I had wanted to use Insta-Learn to learn as much as I could. Now, not so much.
     Ever since I was little, my dad had taken me to what little "wild" remained and had taught me how to survive on my own, without technology and amenities. He had also taught me basic medical techniques, and how to read, write, do math, cook, sew, and fight. He taught me all of these, and a few more, without ever letting me use Insta-Learn.
     At first, I thought it was kinda cool to learn things the "old-fashioned" way; but as I grew older I started to resent it. I didn't want to be dragged out to the middle of nowhere to spend my days and nights with no technology, hot water, or bed. I didn't want to learn skills that I would probably never use; but my dad never relented. He never really explained why he made me learn things this way, he only ever said "Character trumps talent."
     I didn't stop resenting the lessons until it was too late to thank him for them. A few years ago, I hand the unfortunate experience of having to use, not only one of the skills, but all of them in order to survive. I also learned the short-comings of Insta-Learn. It was hard to access the stored skills in the "wild", and while the brain may know how to do something, the body does not necessarily understand how to perform it. Therefore, my hard work and hard won skills made me smarter and faster than the "Insta-Learners."
     As my dad always said, "Character trumps talent." Talent will only take you so far, but hard work will take you farther. Thanks, dad.

The Orphans

Mikhal shushed the children behind him. Then, he cautiously peeked around the corner. They were still there. They had been chasing them for three blocks. All because Jered had punched that rich kid a few days ago. Now, by order of the mayor, all the homeless kids in this area were being rounded up and placed in orphanages or workhouses.  They wouldn't last long there. Ari would be sent back to her abusive father, once they figured out that he was a nobleman. Tym, who was sickly, would probably be worked to death. Jered would last the longest. He was a fighter. He would probably manage to run away again. Mikhal would never make it to an orphanage or workhouse. He was too old, he'd be conscripted into the army. The only reason he hadn't left after the order was passed was Jered. His little brother was such a hothead. He didn't blame Jered for punching the mayor's son, the brat had deserved it. He just wished Jered would show restraint once in awhile. Tym and Ari needed him too. They didn't have older siblings, and other groups didn't want the burden of a sick kid and a girl. He couldn't leave. He had hoped to hoard enough supplies to move them to another city, but now they would have to start over.



Art by: John Foster

Pink

Pink. Just the word made her cringe. It made her think of cheerleaders, ballerinas, and all things "girly girl." Wearing it was worse. It made her feel all delicate and proper. She'd read the words "courtly fluffcake" somewhere and that was how she felt wearing pink. Black was better, or even a dark grey. Her mother always said that black was a depressing color, the color of sadness. That wasn't how she felt. She was happy, in her quiet way. Black made her happy, pink did not. She could hide from unwanted attention in black. Girls in pink stood out. People watched their every move. They were expected to behave a certain way, all proper and poised and...... bubbly. Girls in black, well, they could be a little more...unpredictable when they wanted. Girls in black could be proper, but they could also be improper and no one would think twice about it. They could quietly disappear and no one would notice.