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The sky lights up with greens and blues and reds, drops of colour raining down from the sky like tears. All around, a dozen undergrads look up watching them fall as though crash landing lights are the most wondrous thing they’ve ever seen. Like they don’t realize what child’s play the scene is. Julianna can’t be bothered to be impressed. Sure, the array of colours is a bit of a surprise- filling the tubes up in a drunken stupor leaves a bit to be desired of one’s memory- but she’s made better displays before. You didn’t run a store on the crappy explosives that they sold in bulk when it was time to be patriotic. No, she’d had a grander scheme for the night, driving two hours east into the mountains. Underneath the droplets of light, a soft echo sounded, followed soon by a red glow.

Listening to the gasps and running of the people around her a minute later, the blonde sipped at the glass bottle in her hand. “Pretty,” she murmured, eyeing the destruction. The explosion, minor as it has been had still hit a ten metre radius, with the fire starting to creep well beyond those boundaries. It’d be extinguished soon enough, with a bit of an inquiry after, but it didn’t matter. With any luck, they’d have something to actually celebrate before long. Like liberty.


Word Count: 229
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The streets of New York were no less intimidating during the day than they had been the night before. People were still walking around at top speed, off to this or that, taking in the redhead with her purse clutched to her side with little interest. Being in the big city was like being invisible- she'd actualyl been run into by a teenager on a skateboard who'd simply waved it off with a shrug before tearing off. Still, she'd sworn that she wouldn't just stay cooped up in her hotel room, instead enjoying her time in the biggest place the small town southern girl ever expected to see.

"Toto, we're a long way from Kansas," she informed the dog shaped charm dangling from her cellphone. Her very long dead cellphone that was. Originally, New York was just a stopover on the way to Maine, a chance to do some sightseeing in her beloved country. Maybe go up the Statue of Liberty, eat a pizza, and then hop back on a bus at the depot. With her phone battery dying in Ohio and her parents off at Aunt Sherry's second wedding- "my hussy sister's gone and gotten herself knocked up hasn't she?" her mother had drawled down the phone when the invitation had arrived- there wasn't any way to continue. No number to call for help or cop who had a yearly barbeque she went to. For the first time in her twenty-one years, Elli was effectively alone.

Still, the first two days had been alright. She'd checked into the Hilton, her father's credit card firmly in hand and then hit the streets. She might as well experience the world, rather than the small college town she'd grown up in. With the state university a ten minute drive away, she'd partied near home, the students from Texas or Colorado the only real difference from the group she'd hung out with before. A perfectly insulated world, safe and comfortable. Breaking out hadn't been to do, the first place she'd walked in- a true to form New York pizza place open as late as eleven o'clock!- filled with artsy types who'd spent the ten minutes after she'd placed an order asking her to repeat this or that, declaring her a 'proper redneck' when they heard her name. The joke was on them of course; Elli Mae certainly wasn't her real first name, that being a secret she hated to divulge.

After that, it had been a college bar, some art studio in the Upper West Side, a bed with a stranger. All the sort of thing good girls from Manhattan, Kansas never did. Flushed, she'd grabbed her things and fled, only to get lost before the crackle of the intercom and the woman with a pet rat to have half a clue as to how to return to her hotel room.

Instead, she was stranded...somewhere, wearing last night's clothes and somehow still blending into the background like anyone else. She'd made it through what seemed like downtown Seoul to her, the Korean signs mixed with two old ladies arguing in Mandarin, not that which was which mattered to someone who'd only seen and heard the two in movies. From there, she'd made it to the street she was on now, thrift shops and places selling fresh duck side by side in an order that made sense only here. All she wanted was a coffee and some directions, gosh darn it! With her summer clearly shaping itself into Elli Mae's Great New York Adventure, all she needed was a little advice from a nice stranger! Was that too much to ask?

Probably. Sighing, she reshouldered her bag carefully, walking unsteadily towards something called the Bean Hut, with hopes that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't going to be a place that sold lima beans.


Word Count: 639
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The first day of summer vacation went down in the Melnyk house just as it did every year. Sian, their darling adult daughter, wandered in around five in the morning, planning to nap before heading off to work. Liam Melnyk Senior left an hour later, briefcase under his shoulder and a cereal bar between his teeth. After that, the house was quiet and peaceful- at least for the meantime.

Sometime after dawn, the teenage member of the family still half buried under pillows, the chaos began. Half a dozen grade schoolers wandered through the front door, fairly benign at the time, only to start rising in decibels as the hours got later. Forget sleeping until noon. By ten o'clock, the only option for Liam was to crawl out of bed and down the stairs. Resigned, he slid the phone beside his head open, pulling up the message he'd drafted earlier.

Hopefully, a certain Mr. Morgan wouldn't be overly bothered by the letter, already three screens long on the device. In it, he'd accepted before jotting out a series of questions and statements, discussing the full possible interface of the video game. Not that he could really be blamed for it. If the man was going to write that it was a video game 'in the simplest terms' then he was just going to have to question what it was in more detailed terms. What self-respecting person would possibly let something like this go with a blunt acceptance?

Jabbing off a 'quick' ending- another three paragraphs leaving every possible way to connect him and an excited ranting about the possibilities the interface he assumed they had would offer that could hardly be considered short- Liam rolled out of bed, tugging the drawstrings of his pants tighter and heading down the stairs.

"Liam, Liam, Liam!" the combined shouts and waves from the little demons came the second his foot hit the bottom step. Greeting the handful of children with a grin, the boy quickly lifted and spun the two nearest kindergarteners, causing the delighted shrieks to escalate. Putting them down, he made it to the kitchen, popping his head around the corner.

Tapping on the cupboard, the harried looking woman inside spun around, balancing the containers in her hands as she did. "Good morning baby. Did you sleep well?"

Shrugging, the teen rotated his right fist over the left, cocking his head to the side. "In the pot," the answer was managed between lids being popped off and tossed into the sink. Nodding in thanks, he quickly poured the drink into a cup, gesturing with his free hand as fast as he could before heading to the door. Alright, so maybe his explanation hadn't been properly conveyed, but at least he could talk while drinking, unlike the rest of the world.

Bouncing over to the laptop, he tapped in the keys, syncing the phone with it as he gulped back the coffee. Taking the trip to the post box would take less than a minute, as running out bare footed was a little less dangerous in July. He'd definitely gotten that lecture enough times to know better. Or at least, he ought to know better. Sometimes a jog in bare feet during October was exactly what the body needed. The illnesses weren't, but the adrenaline was perfect for training for track. About the only sport he could get away with joining. Being a team player was a lot harder when you needed either both hands or a cell phone just to carry a conversation.

Bouncing in the seat as he waited for the file to upload, Liam shifted uncomfortably. Patience was not one of his virtues. No way, no how. Waiting for someone to finish talking was the worst. Sure, interrupting people was always rude, but sometimes he just had to get it out there. Besides, if he wasn't always so eager, he'd never have typing skills as strong as they were. Of course, then he'd end up a sad, alone recluse with no-one to hang out with during the summer vacation because most of his friends were off at training camps...

Well, avoiding two out of three was at least a pass. Better than his math exam, at any rate. Throwing in the printer shortcut as soon as the window popped up, Liam nearly snatched the paper out of the printer, dashing back through the main room and past the eight year olds who seemed to have started a wrestling tournament to the front door. Heading to a new world, with revolutionary video games. Throwing it open to the sound of giggling teenage girls, Liam paused, closing it again.

For starters, he might want to grab a shirt though.


Word Count: 788
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Important holidays tend to pass me by. Thanksgiving, Family Day, Labour Day, whatever the other half dozen are... in my life, they simply don’t exist. Of course, growing up, Family Day really didn’t exist- as the expert on all things Alberta, I was expected to explain once it became a national event- though I still couldn’t tell you when it is without fact checking. Labour Day is in September at the beginning; Thanksgiving is...October or November. The American one overlaps with their football, so if I knew when that was... well, no matter. For the past two years, none of these celebrations or days off have really mattered to my life. I never have classes on Mondays- they’re all on Mondays, right?- and it isn’t as though I have anyone around to spend it with anyways.

Labour Day usually involves sleeping off the altitude adjustment, slowly catching up with the rest of the city, and unpacking two suitcases, a duffel bag, and clothes that have been stuffed away wherever possible. Thanksgiving- alright, so I did nothing for Thanksgiving, sue me. Cooking and eating a gigantic meal by yourself isn’t quite the same; it’s like being the little girl with no friends eating her cake alone. So forgive me if I choose to spend the third of this holy trinity of days off in bed, a cup of coffee in hand and every good war movie ever made playing in the background. If I really remember what makes the holiday- most likely from a friendly reminder of why the day is off bounds for roadtrips- I might even call home. Assuming of course, they’re not out living their lives.

Word Count: 278
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She comes in with the gust of cool January air and two of my brothers’ girlfriends- future daughter-in-laws, a part of her wants, needing some female presence- behind her. Takes in the chaos that has destroyed her neat, decorated house; absorbs the laughter at her dining room table and smiles. The conversation involves less talking and more bellowing, swatting and “NO NO NO MAN”s than most people- and certainly the neighbours- can handle, but she enjoys it. Most of the conversation is unintelligible, between the overlay of voices and her deaf ear, but her four children all being in a good mood at once is worth the pain.

Reaching for the camera, she turns around, hoping to for once get a proper family picture, the type that involve sweet smiles and clasped hands. Hands flapping in all directions, she sheppards four drunken fools to one side of the table. No-one pauses as the eldest and tallest smacks his head against the light fixture; these things happen, like being twenty and having three step-children and one more for good luck. Instead, she tosses out requests over the din of a continued argument over why one son isn’t number one at his work, and instructions for the perfect rye and coke: “Mark I can’t see your head; squish in moppet; Mike, look at me a second; Kev, Kevin, Kev; everyone smile!”

For a second it works, even if the faces are all turned slightly to watch other things: the game, a whiskey bottle, a beloved girlfriend. Spurred on, the tiny woman- made shorter by the two amazons by her side, avidly discussing Sex and the City- tries again. The moment’s long broken, a well timed jibe causing her daughter to peel away, hair frozen in mid-swoosh, twins leaning back at the same time high-fiving, eldest backing into a mirror once again. It doesn’t go the way she planned, though nothing ever does. Under the new wave of arguments and discussions and break downs of stats and the best rum “no seriously, it was sogood (sogood, soogood and soogoo all being proper adjectives)” she retreats a few steps, still amused, still content, still glad that they’re all going home tonight so she can get some bloody sleep, still the outlaw despite all the years past. It was never the plan, but there’s no way to convince her it wasn’t fate that she ended up surrounded by freaks who love her.

Word Count: 407
Okay,uhm you're super good at writing.I'll take a shot at it. (I'm no good,sorry.)




Petals falling,the air scented of sticky,sweet honey.A single girl's shadow twirled upon the damp grass among the flowered meadow.Daisies,tulips,and lilacs were planted anomously across the acres,I sprinted across the field.Flowered vines,slung around my ankles I was being quickly being pulled away from her,the shadow."Come!" I screamed,my young lungs shouting for my life."Please,don't fade"The words weakly slipped out of my mouth as I had to vicously fight the tightening rope vines.The victorious sound of a obnoxiously noisy snap as I had done it!They're gone,the agony of the tugging on my small ankles was gone.Digging my thin nails into the brown,rich soil,I lifted my head."You are now a moon-kissed flower,you may bloom into the brightest of whites and blues and greys.But you only can acheive this",A gorgeously narrow face structure faced me,it's voice came across as a female's.It's flesh was a pitch black color,as the shadowy female's face did not have any features.She stroked my flushed face with the back of her petite hand,it seemed so real.The way she gently pet my cheek with the smoother side of her hand made me smile and blush."Don't leave" I breathed into her ear,"Never,my flower." The mysteriously attractive figure dramaticly wrapped her long arms around my stiff shoulders.Feeling pressure on my back I figured she was massaging me or something similar,she claimed that her job was done for now and lightly kissed me on my temple.
Reality leaked through a window as I sluggishly peeled my eyes open.I made an effort to sit up,as a pair of green and orange eyes spied on me."Goodmorning,sweet Evangiline" Fox purred,"It's nearly six o'clock you know." The weight of myself was unexpectedly light as I had,had much rest.I tripped on my silk pink night gown and violently crashed to oak flooring instead of my graceful attempt of crawling out of bed."Oh my!" The pale servant cried as he was already by my side,checking me for any kind of injury."Did you hear that?" Fox was already certainly sidetracked by a faint noise even I couldn't hear."I'm positive it was nothing",my English accented voice bounced off the walls of the spacy bedroom as he lifted my fragile body off the spotless floorboards.Fox treated me as if I were an expensive painting,or an untouchable diamond as he held me with much care and love.I snuggled into the soft matierial of the suit he was clothed in as we tapped down the hallways into my dressing room.He flashed a purely happy grin and pecked me on the head tenderly.It vaguely reminded me of the figure of darkness tending to me with such respect and care.Fox set me down,my bare feet made a racket as I dashed into my oversized dressing room to find Petal,the tailor,and creator of all my formal,daily,and slumbering clothing found in my dressing room.Her graying hair didn't take effect of her ageless face and figure,Petal reminded me of silent watercress twirling playfully in ponds,teasing the koi or minnows.Her smiling blue eyes greeted me as she held out her delicate arms in a signal of a hug.I darted into her arms,embracing her warmth and overflowing love.She scented of pomegranates and always had,I knew her since my second birthday when we inherited the victorian towers we live in now."Okay,Miss Evangiline I made a new dress that Mrs.Saphire accepted into being a daily cloth!" She enthuisiasticly announced,"Cover your emeralds,Evangiline!" Her eager voice shed excitment onto me,I closed my eyes lids tightly and concentrated more on other senses.I felt the presence of something in front of me and reopened my bright green eyes,an elegant dress dangled in from of me.Crimson red,it was a ruffle tier in the back with roses holding it up.It was an inch higher then knee length and had top frilled stockings that match the look.


>o< I'm no good,but I think I'm average for being in grade school.

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