Category Archives: Short Stories

Quick fictional stories about anything and everything with recorded audio.

The First Martian

I was raised by three parents. My mother was a very nurturing woman who made sure I always felt loved and cared for. My father was a great protector who saw that I was provided everything I needed to survive.

Then, there was earth. I was always surrounded by earth. Every book I read. Every movie I saw, even most of the pictures I had were from earth. My mother provided love, and my father provided protection, but earth provided my dreams. All I ever heard about was earth. Whose getting elected on earth. What great new technologies are being made on earth. What great new places have been gone to and explored.

There was great technology and natural beauty on Mars. Our canyons were deeper, and our mountains were higher. Our hydroponics farms and fusion generators were a new wave of technology that was unrivaled on earth, even all these years later, but it was all boring, all lifeless, all purposeless. The farms gave bland food that only served to provide for our barest nutritional needs. The mountains were as inaccessible as the moons of Jupiter. They existed, but I would never see them, and the fusion generators? Out of sight and out of mind. The lights might as well have been powered by ghosts.

My daily life was blank metal and plastic walls and formless nutritional wafers. A blank slate, that’s what my life was. A blank slate onto which I projected earth. Beyond the cold lifeless walls, I imagined not dull red earth, but vibrant grass, trees that reached for the sky, and animals. Deer peeking out from behind every bush, and squirrels scurrying through the branches of every tree. Giant cities populated by countless millions of other people. I could actually meet others my own age.

My parents told me I was the first martian. They were the only couple that had been allowed on the way mission to Mars, and I was their only child. If I was to ever know what it was like to play a real game with others my own age, or to ever know the joy of a date. I had to get off this planet. My parents told me that it wasn’t possible. No government could afford to bring us back, but… hang on, what’s that in the sky? There aren’t any meteor showers scheduled for today.

“Honey! Come down off the observation deck and get your nice clothes on!” My mother called. “The Mars settler mark 2 is landing, and honey.” My mother paused for dramatic affect. “There’s a girl on board.”

It was a dark and stormy night when I heard a voice come from the attic….

My friend jumped so high his head almost hit the ceiling.

“What was that!?” He demanded of me. My parents were away, it was stormy outside, and a deep guttural voice from above us had just asked us a question.

Before I could answer he runs to my door and locks it. He’s not a moment too soon, because there is a creaking sound from overhead as the door to the attic opens. It’s decided to come down.

“Did you hear that!?” He frantically demands, looking around desperately for something to block the door.

“It’s m…” I start to say, but he cuts me off. There are footfalls outside my door, and my friend loses it.

“It’s coming!” He shouts, diving behind my bed and covering his head. He’s shaking now, but he can’t help but look at the door as a forceful knocking sound rattles the room.

A hear a squeak from my friend as I get out of bed and move toward the door.

“Don’t touch that!” He orders as I reach for the door handle. I ignore him and open the door to be greeted by what appears to be an eight foot tall jet black yeti with fangs.

“Dude the wi-fi is out.” He tells me.

“Sorry man, I’ll go power cycle the router and see if that helps. You good up there? Any leaks?” I ask.

“Naw man, it’s all good. I was just in the middle of something you know?” He says.

“What are you doing!” My friend exclaims, flabbergasted at the interaction that is taking place.

“I tried to tell you it’s no big deal.” I inform my friend. “♪Cause I’m friends with the monster that sleeps over my head.♫”

An expedition stumbles upon an ancient group of humanoid aliens

As soon as we stepped off the Appalachian trail into the forgotten village, we were swept away by the elder. He had seven eyes and three arms, and called us each by name. The strange man gathered his people to us, and told us of their story.

We took many pictures, and if there had been cell signal, we would’ve called all our friends and colleagues immediately. This was the find of the millennium!

After being regaled by the alien village elder he took us aside one by one into his lodgings, and whenever one of us emerged we wore an expression of utter awe and peace with the world.

When it was my turn to enter into the sacred lodge I was frightened, but I had no need to worry. The village elder told me everything I knew, laid my own life story before me, and told me how it would end. He spoke of my future spouse and children. He told me that my past transgressions against my fellow man were small, and were far outweighed by my contributions.

Hours seemed to pass in that lodge, but when I had emerged a mere fifteen minutes had transpired, and I too wore an expression of peace with the world.

There was food and celebration, and when the sun began to set the villagers urged us on our way. No wanting to displease these marvelous beings, and eager to report their whereabouts, we departed.

At the outskirts of the village the elder stopped to speak with me a moment.

“My son, once you have lost sight of our village you will forget it ever existed. Every picture you took will show only shrubbery, and every face that you remember will seem to be just a tree. We live a peaceful existence and cannot have our secret spoiled, but you shall carry with you, now and always, the serenity you now feel.” I was taken aback.

“Thank you friend for your gift of serenity, but how can your secret survive? Surely someone will come through here eventually.” The elder grinned knowingly.

“My son, this is New Jersey. We’ve worked many centuries to insure that no one wants to come here. Did you not see the Jersey Shore? My name is Snooki, and I bid thee farewell.”

Edit: i have been to new jersey several times, and know a few friends from there. It is a perfectly nice place IMO, but i just couldn’t resist taking a crack :).

Everyone on earth who has had sex in the last five years dies. The remainder inherit the earth.

“Dude, don’t forget the Mentos, we can use those to make bombs.” I the elementary schooler in charge of rounding up the remaining candy at the Toy store. It was the first toy raid that Tommy allowed me to supervise. Tommy was a twenty something who said he had come back ‘from beyond the veil’, to save us once all the other adults had died. Most of the high schoolers, especially the high school girls, had died too.

“Board game section pillaged sir, they had the new settlers of catan expansion.” Another elementary schooler reported.

“Excellent, Tommy loves those games. He will be most pleased.” I tossed the kid a snickers bar as a reward.

“We need to make sure spirits are as high as possible tonight. We’re going to TP the girl’s camp tonight, and we lost three men to the spit wad catapults last time.” That reminded me. “Timothy!” I shouted to the kid who was pilfering costumes over in the toy section. “Be sure and get as much body armor as possible, and make it quick, we don’t want to get caught by the wizards.” I had never met the wizards, but Tommy assured me they existed.

They were men who hadn’t been taken. Men with long robes who kidnapped and ate little boys who took too long gathering supplies.

We heard a distant rumbling on the wind. “The wizards are coming!” I shouted. “Everybody drop what you’re doing and run for it!” Items clattered to the floor as the little vagrants dashed for the door. The little kid in charge of the candy foolishly decided to attempt to make off with all his ill gotten goods.

The rumbling grew louder as they reached the door, and the lad with the candy began to lag behind. The others didn’t notice until they were several blocks away. By then, it was too late.

“Oh look Brother Matt, it’s another group of wandering orphans. Shall we see if they need anything?” Brother Stephen asked me.

“No Brother Stephen, they look like they don’t particularly want to talk to us. On second thought, that slow one looks like he’s taken only candy from that store. I’ll bet he’s got frightfully bad cavities. We better bring him back to the abby and see to his teeth.”

Upon sneezing a man is teleported to a room with all of his….partners

“Sweetie, I’ve got a cold again. You know it’s just a matter of time.” I told my wife over the phone.

“Babe seriously? I’m still getting over last time.” She was a very innocent girl my wife. I rather admired that in her. Whenever I looked at her I saw a pure Disney princess. Someone strong like Belle, but child-like too. Kind of like Rapunzel. She really didn’t deserve this curse.

“I know. I’m downing cold medicine like an addict but I’m having a hard time holding it in. You’ve got minutes at most to prepare yourself.” She had to keep her phone on constantly now, so whenever I felt the urge coming on I would just call her to give her a little warning. That was the least I could do for her.

“Can’t you just hold your nose or something?” She begged.

“Princess I’m really doing the best I can but….but..oh no. Achoo!

All of the sudden I was alone in bed with my wife, the only girl for me.

“Babe I was in the middle of a crochet project.” She said.

“I’m sorry, but hey, it was date night anyway right?” I asked. Her girlish smile turned decidedly woman like.

“I guess I can finish it later.”

Everyone automatically goes to heaven?

“So how did you figure this out exactly?” The pope asks the government officials sent to see him about the problem.

“That’s hardly the problem.” The US official said exasperatedly. “We’re more concerned with the millions dying every day than the research that led to this.”

“All the same.” The pope said. “I have not seen the report myself, only the news stories. So tell me, how was this discovered?”

The US official sighed and put his head in his hands, but the Italian official spoke up. “There was a news story a couple months back about a couple near death experiences of death row victims who all reported seeing lights, hearing angels, and just generally having an experience of heaven when they died.” The official explained. “This prompted some psychology students to go do a survey of near death experiences of convicts which then discovered that all convicts, when they had a near death experience, reported similar visions of the afterlife. The study got leaked before it got sent out for review, and the rest is history.”

“Has the study been published?” The pope asked.

“No.” The Italian official responded.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. Contact the medical college in charge of investigating miracles, the WHO, the CDC, and any other legitimate biological research community. Have them forward you all the relevant studies on brain chemistry of people in various near death situations. They will no doubt demonstrate to you that when people nearly die their brains can enter a state similar to that of a drug addict. Dying does substantially affect brain chemistry you know. Once you get the news outlets to start circulating the studies I will contact my brethren in the Christian, Islamic, and jewish communities to begin circulating the relevant theological background. I will also personally forward to you gentlemen a few papers that have postulated the following. 1: The devil is very good at deceiving. 2: This is nothing new. 3: People who don’t actually die haven’t actually seen the after life. They do call it a ‘near’ death experience afterall.”

The haunting note

I recently did a collaborative story with my friend reddit.com/user/Luna_Lovewell . I started a story and she had the brilliant idea to continue it. The result is below, with her writing about half of the total story. See if you can guess who is who :). If you like her stuff you can find more at reddit.com/r/Luna_Lovewell

Guessing the meaning behind the note had become a game. When the lads were taking watches at night to ward off the werewolves, they would entertain themselves by postulating different theories.

Everyone had one they latched on to. Simon was of the opinion that it was an ancient symbol. A bloodrite passed down by my father to signify that I was an initiate into some secret order.

Gregory claimed it was a play on words. “D Sharp, and it’s a key. So somewhere there’s a key to some hidden treasure which is sharp and in the shape of a D.”

Peter would always think he had it right because none of the others factored in the crossbow. “Why would he only have it on the crossbow then? Why not emblazon it on his shield and armor as well? It’s not the cost surely. We have retrieved more than enough loot from our monster hunting to cover any blacksmithing expense. No, you blokes have got it all wrong. It’s a marksman achievement. There’s some tournament of the world’s best archers. They don’t want to advertise their skill lest people challenge them, but they wish to carry a symbol so other worthy marksmen know. Do we not call marksmen Sharpshooters? I cannot say for sure what the D is for, perhaps a rank. It is the fourth letter. So perhaps our comrade here is highly ranked.”

These were the most exciting theories. The others merely thought it was the key of my favorite song, and debated which of the very few composed in it was the song.

None of them were right. It was a much more personal reason. Before I had joined with the hunters a dragon attacked my cottage. I rushed to get a bow and fend the beast off. I had a bow for hunting boar and fired shot after shot at the beast, but it was no use. It carried off my wife.

She was a brave soul. She didn’t want me to be afraid, so as the beast carried her skyward, I lowered my bow, and I heard drifting through the air a song. Most other women would have screamed. In fact, all other women I’ve seen be victims in a dragon attack have shrieked loud enough to wake the dead. Not my wife. She knew that her suffering would bring me pain. So in the last moments that I saw her, she decided to comfort me with a song to let my know she was alright. A song that ended with the note D#.

I can no longer remember the words, but I still remember the note. She held that note until I could no longer hear her. I have it on my crossbow to remind me that she still might be out there, and that when next I have an opportunity to save her, I won’t miss.

I stirred from my bunk after another half-night of restless sleep, tormented by dreams of fire. Careful not to wake the other guards, I stumbled outside to the well. Damp mist shrouded the camp, leaving only blurs of buildings and hazy orange globes that marked the torches of the night watch.

I tugged at the coarse rope hanging down into the cavernous, stone-lined pit in the center of the camp. A gentle splash echoed from below, and I hauled up a bucket of cool, crisp water that captured the moonlight in its sloshing waves. I drank deeply, filling my belly and soothing my parched throat. From the wall, I heard the chatter and laughs of the guards at their posts, no doubt sneaking mead from the kitchens and wasting arrows on shadows at the treeline. I had half a mind to go reprimand them, but I could save that task for tomorrow’s briefing.

After a final gulp of water, I padded back to my cabin. The mist closed in around me, growing so dense that I could barely see my own feet. Only the bright moon was able to pierce its nebulous veil. The rusty hinges of the barracks door squeaked as I pulled it open, as if protesting that I had woken them up with my nighttime sojourn. Just as I crossed the threshold, another sound trickled through the mists. A soft whisper, lighter than the flap of a bat’s wings at dusk. It was the sound that pursued me every night through my dreams. My beautiful wife’s voice as the beast carried her back to its lair; that haunting song that I knew would end in that final D-sharp. The mists seemed to swirl in excitement upon hearing it, and I wondered (not for the first time) whether I was truly awake.

The door slammed shut behind me with a clatter as I turned and ran back outside. I bounded down the path and bounded up the rough timber steps to the guard outpost overlooking the dense swamp that marked the border between Oltaria and the neighboring Kingdom of the Dead. The voice called to me again, coming from somewhere beyond the trees.

“Do you hear that?” I asked wildly to the guards as I burst through their door. They stood wide-eyed with fear and nodded, instantly sobered by the haunting sound. The song began to fade, receding deeper into the trees, luring me out. I knew it was likely a trap; all sorts of beasts lurked in these woods, and their magics had tempted many a traveler to stray from the road, ending in a grisly death. But how had it known to use that one song? How could it mimic the soft tone of her voice? How did it know about my obsession with that final note? I had to know if she was out there, no matter the cost.

I snatched my crossbow from its peg and vaulted over the rim of the rough timber wall that guarded our fort. The guards behind me called out, thinking that the sound had driven me mad. They didn’t know about her. They didn’t know what the sound meant. My bare feet squished into the mud as I sprinted into the swamp.

“I’m coming,” I whispered to her.

The dead forest, so called because of what was in it, and what failed to come out of it. Only hunters were crazy, greedy, or desperate enough to live on its borders, and even hunters knew not to venture into the woods without plenty of backup, and plenty of daylight left. So slim was the chance of survival after dark that soldiers who failed to answer roll call at sundown were automatically listed as KIA.

I could hear my men shouting at me from the fort, but now one venture after me. When I approached the tree line, their voices died down to avoid attracting monsters, and I dove into the darkness alone.

I dropped into a crouch and drew my knife. I held my knife hand in front of me and balanced my crossbow on it. If something came at me, I would only have one shot with my ranged weapon, and I needed my knife at the ready to ward off the teeth, poisons, and claws the waited for me here.

That note, that beautiful terrible note was still ringing in the air, calling to me. It was a trap. I knew it was, but I could not help it. I would not wait another year aching to hear that voice again. That memory died here tonight, one way or the other.

The voice is getting close now. Less than fifty paces off. I cannot make out anything distinct, but there is a faint heavenly glow in the distance. It was so hauntingly otherworldly that I almost thought the dead forest had already claimed me, but this was not my first hunt. It was going to take more than mind games to deter me.

I drop to the ground, keeping my arms out in front of me, and begin slowly moving forward. The voice and the glow are stationary, there’s no hurry. I take my time, tilting my head sideways to minimize my profile, and never lifting a limb more than an inch or two off the ground.

It’s excruciatingly slow going. Moving a few feet takes minutes, and I become painfully aware of how muddy the ground is, but the mud is not my main concern. My main concern is the hissing sound that’s uncomfortably close to my head.

Grateful for my slow pace I freeze in place, not even daring to move my eyes from the point they were fixed on.

I can now hear more than a hiss. I hear a slither moving towards me from the opposite direction I’m looking at. I try to guess the species of the snake. It sounds like it could be eight or even nine feet long. That was bad. It had to be poisonous at that length. Constrictors would be over fifteen feet, and less dangerous snakes would be under three. Nine was exactly the wrong length.

I hear the flicker of its tongue as it tastes the air, searching for prey. There are rapid swishing motions as its head must be turning left and right. It’s close now. I could kick it if I had a death wish.

I tense my muscles as it closes the last few inches and touches my ribcage. I want to feel like a rock so I keep my muscles as tense as possible. Feel like stone, not flesh. I tell myself. Stone, not earth. I’m literally holding my breath as the weight of it moves onto my back, like a giant hand pressing against my side, and slowly, easily moving up my back to my shoulder.

Earth, not flesh, earth not flesh. I said it like a prayer as the head of the thing reached my shoulder blade, and out of the corner of my eye I got a glimpse of its sleek glittering black eyes. I dared not look at it lest it become startled by the sudden movement of my eyes.

The thing was pressing on me so hard that I almost exhaled from the weight of it. It was becoming a strain to keep my breath in and as the thing passed so close to my face I could’ve kissed it, a bead of sweat began to form on my head.

The feeling of the thing moving on my back, the sight of its eyes as close as those of a lover, and the tell tale drop of sweat on my head made we want to cry out and try and bring my knife to bare.

Then I hear that D# cutting through the night again, reminding me why I’m reminding. Reminding me that some things are worth kissing a viper for.

It’s just barely enough for me to hold on as the head of the thing passes by, and begins to move back into the brush. There are a few more seconds where my lungs begin to burn as the remaining few feet of serpent move off of me and into the night.

I start breathing again after I no longer hear its slithering sound, and begin my hunt for the thing crying out with my wife’s voice.

I reached a clearing in the trees: a wide, open space pitted by bogs of stagnant marsh water. The parts that were solid earth were covered by a tall, dry grass that rattled lightly in the wind. Across the field, I could see that same light glowing through the mist, brilliantly white like an angel.

I stepped forward onto the field, and the ground crunched beneath me. Bones, bleached white by centuries in the sun. Skeletal fingers still gripped a rotten wooden spear, tipped by a rusted metal diamond that had fallen into the dirt. A wicked curved dagger was stuck between two of the ribs. Patches of spiky grass poked through rusted-out holes in the armor, and moss grew over the remnants of his shield. I gingerly tried to avoid disturbing the corpse, but there was another right next to it. Dozens more, everywhere I stepped. The whole clearing was a graveyard; a forgotten battlefield of some long-ago war lost to history. They were in no shape to rise against me, but I unslung my crossbow and notched a bolt regardless; maybe the stories about the Kingdom of the Dead were true after all.

But I would have fought through the entire undead army to cross that field. The luminescent glow through the mists taunted me, urging me forward. Whatever was singing my wife’s song was waiting for me across the clearing, basking in that glow. Armor crumbled under my feet as empty eye sockets stared up at me accusingly. I felt a thousand eyes watching me from the trees as beasts lurked under the boughs; even they didn’t dare enter this clearing.

I came close enough to make it out the object. It was a box made of gleaming steel with thick rivets built to contain tremenous force; The top, however, was a translucent bubble gleaming in the night. I stepped closer, able to view the interior. Gleaming golden gears and cranking shafts scurried around frantically, around one enormous central cylinder, dotted tiny metal notches. The glow came from glass bottles with what seemed like bottled lightning.

BEAUTIFUL, ISN’T IT?” roared a voice from behind me as the ground beneath me rattled violently.

I spun, almost dropping my crossbow. The dragon had swooped in behind me and landed with a crash that sent bone fragments into the air along with a cloud of dust. His veiny red wings spread wide, blocking out the moon that was just beginning to fall. That same, scaly demon who had taken my wife all those years ago. Without another thought, I fired my crossbow bolt with a twang. It didn’t even pierce his thick, chitinous scales; the bolt just veered off, sending a shower of sparks into the mist.

“**That thing won’t help you,” he said with a smirk obvious even across his reptilian face.

“Where is she?” I answered. “I heard her!”

Touch that button next to you,” The dragon told me. I kept one eye on him, but did what he said. The device inside whirred and spun, and the soft notes of my wife’s song drifted out. I turned away from the dragon, pressing my palms against the glass. What is this device?

She’s still alive, you know,” A tear sprang to my eye as her voice became stronger, just as sweet as when she used to sing to the birds in the garden of our cottage. “Wouldn’t you want to see her again?

I fell to my knees before the beast.

“How?”

“As I told you. Simply touch the button.” The dragon ordered. It was clearly enjoying itself. Dragons were very patient beings. They could spend an entire human lifetime setting up a moment such as this. An ‘entertainment’ they called it. A sick joke that they spent unfathomable amounts of effort into just to see a mortal squirm.

“What happens then?” I asked.

“Then you take her place mortal.” The dragon crushed several skulls under his feet. I hoped he wasn’t foreshadowing what was to come.

“And what happens to her?” I ask. Forgetting that I don’t know where she is.

“She takes your place.” The dragon drags out the last word like it’s a final note in a song. He knows what drew me here. He’s mocking me.

“So you can just take her away again? And leave me trapped wherever she is?” There’s no way that I’ll let her out here. She has to be safer where she is. A whole squad of my best men couldn’t escort her safely out of here without the dragon. With the monstrosity here anything short of a legion of troops would be insufficient.

“I’ll see that she’s….taken care of.” The beast snapped its jaws. It could break grown trees in two with those powerful jaws.

“You know I can’t believe you.” I tell the flying serpent.

Fire shot skyward from its mouth, billowing upward larger than I’d seen any pillar made by human hands. It roared loud enough to wake the heaviest sleeper three leagues off, and swatted its tail through the trees, cutting down a row of strong oaks.

You also know you can’t win. So I can make a meal of you right now. Or. The thing leaned down as its face was close to me. You can make it sporting for me.

I’d have to fight the beast. There was nothing for it. My love would be in far greater danger here than any she could possibly be facing in her current location. I’d force the great brute to fight me, and then maybe when the sport was out of it he’d let her go. She’d still have to make her way through the dead forest, but perhaps the creatures would think she was under the dragon’s protection, and leave her alone.

I reach for a bolt, readying my crossbow for one final stand. Smoke rises from the dragon’s nostrils as he prepares to end this fight as soon as I start it.

Then, I hear the words. The words to the song that I hadn’t remembered for years. The tune that had followed me into spider’s caves and dragon’s lairs now finally had words to it again. My wife’s words.

Hearth and home have I prepared for you

Rest you now, your slumber’s overdue.

Seek ye peace, the world’s troubles will I mend.

And when you wake, my face will you see again.

And now I know what I must do.

I lowered my bow, defeated. The dragon looked down at me with smoldering amber eyes, savoring his victory. His massive clawed feet dug into the ground as he stomped closer, and the red, scaled tail slithered through the grass behind him, leaving a furrowed trail of dirt and bones.

Wise choice, farmer,” it told me with a heavy emphasis on the last word, mocking me. Dragons savored only the hunt; those who raised food peacefully were the lowest of the low, only good for sport. “Surrender yourself, and I will let her free

I did as I was instructed, pressing the ruby gemstone button in the center of the device. The glass covering seemed to melt, vanishing into thin air. From the interior, the gears whirred and clanked, moving quickly. The dragon leaned closer, so near that I could smell the sulphur on his breath. The large metal cylinder in the middle of the machine rose slowly and popped open with an explosion of green sparks. From inside that golden shell, a long, slender handle appeared. Carved of dark wood, almost black, tipped with a metal ball in the shape of a flower bulb.

We call it a soul rose,” The dragon explained, with a hint of awe in his voice. “It will be your home until I find my next plaything. Or until you break.” He seemed to relish the thought of the latter.

I took it from the cannister and held it gently, admiring the craftsmanship even as I felt the dark power emanating from it. The dragon scooted closer for a better look, surrounding me with his enormous leathery wings. His scaly underbelly loomed above me, blotting out the night’s stars.

“What do I do with it?”

He hummed something in his own tongue, a harsh guttural language that sounded like an avalanche. The rose sprang to life, spreading apart into delicately crafted petals of white ivory. In the center,though, razor-edged golden teeth revealed a gaping black maw.

Now, press it to your heart. Your soul will inhabit the Rose, and your wife shall return in your place.

I looked down at the device, stalling. I could still hear my wife’s song, reassuring me. Soothing my spirit. She was the strong one, putting on a brave face for my own benefit. She would be willing to make this sacrifice, going into the unknown just to save me. A tear rolled down my cheek, causing the dragon to stand tall and cackle, a ferocious noise that sounded like he was coughing up rocks.

Seek ye peace, the world’s troubles will I mend.

With one swift motion, I loaded the rose into my crossbow. I turned back to the dragon, still stretched high into the night in front of me. His eyes narrowed as he suddenly realized what I had done, and his broad wings flapped to protect his exposed belly, but it was too late. The crossbow cable snapped, and the rose soared straight through the air. Maybe not as fast as a sleek arrow would have, but it did the trick. It struck the dragon’s scaly skin right where I knew his heart would be.

A gusting wind swept through the field, rattling the tall grasses and swirling through the tree branches on the edges. The dragon stood petrified for a moment, then began to glow. First only a bit, like a far-off glimmer. Then brighter and brighter until it was more intense than the sun itself, and I had to shield my eyes.

When I looked back, the dragon had disappeared and my wife stood in the field before me.

A retired super villain is caught in the middle of a bank heist with his 6 year old daughter

“Duck Sarah.” I told her, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her under one of the tables.

“Daddy.” She said, looking at the red cape gang as they surged through the crowd waving guns and grabbing bank employees by the collar. “Daddy you told me you were done with this.” She said. Looking at me, and then looking at the villains.

“I am done Sarah.” I try to tell her, but she’s not thinking clearly. She thinks I’m in on this. That I helped them out somehow.

“Daddy you said the men with capes wouldn’t come after you anymore since you helped them safe the city.” She accused me, and started to slowly slide away.

“W-what?” I asked, confused now. She thought that the red cape gang was here for me? Did she think they were the heroes. I’m so baffled by her misinterpretation of the events that I don’t stop her when she leaps up from under the table and runs to commander cape whose talking to captain cape about the silent alarm.

“Don’t hurt him!” She says. “He’s hiding over under that table, please don’t hurt him.” She begs.

There’s something special about daughters, especially young ones. They can know that you’re one of the scummiest most rotten people on the planet, and still believe in you. They can even try and protect you from the people they think are heroes. Sarah would sit up late at night watching the old news footage of the superheroes battling it out with the supervillains, and she always cheered for the superheroes, even when I was one of the villains. Now that I find out when it really came down to it. She chose her own father over her personal heroes.

It was a bit unfortunate that the people she had chosen as heroes were actually just villains in misleading costumes, but she didn’t figure that out until commander cape put a gun to her head and captain cape trained his gun on me.

“We see you old friend.” Commander cape called out. He used to be my sidekick. “Come out with your hands up.”

I come out with my hands up, but only after I’ve thrown the table I’m sitting under at them. They both duck and my daughter hits the ground and covers her head with her hands.

Captain cape gets winged by the table and goes down. Commander cape rolls and recovers, but I’m already on top of him when he brings his gun up. I kick it out of his hands and knock him unconscious with a single punch.

Sergeant cape and private cape coming bursting out of a backroom, but they’re no match for me and I quickly lay them both out with lighting speed and agility.

Just before private cape loses consciousness he asks. “We should’ve known your superpowers were too strong.”

“Didn’t commander cape ever tell you? I don’t have any superpowers. I just did what any father would have done when their child was in danger.”

This was one was just weird(real life story)

My trip out to spend some time with the less fortunate went about 0% according to plan. I have this preconceived notion that when I go out I’ll find some homeless male in his 40s and we’ll walk to a decent restaurant(red robin level). Along the way we’ll talk about our respective lives, have a meal that lasts sixty minutes, and then we’ll part ways. That’s the scenario that goes through my head as I walk out the door, and it’s typical to deviate from that a little bit. Normally one or two elements will be missing, either there will be a language barrier, the guy will be younger, or it’ll be a woman or women. This time however, none of that happened. I can’t think of any other words to describe it better than weird.

First of all, there were a lot of people out today. I saw two sets of people at two different intersections where I haven’t seen them before. Sometimes I’ve had to drive through 4-5 miles of traffic lights before I find somebody that I can take to lunch. One of these was within a mile of my house, the other was about 2 miles out.

Second, the first two people left before I could go talk to them. I saw them, pulled into a parking lot, and walked out to meet them, but the lights were not good to me, and by the time I got across they had left. I briefly considered following them to talk to them, but that seemed super creepy to me. So I shrugged it off and got back in my car.

A few minutes later at an intersection not very far away, I see two more people, both ladies. One of them is old(I think she turned out to be in her eighties), and one of them looks closer to my age. There’s two people in need, no way both of them are going to turn down something right? Turns out they both ate before I came and refused food(although one lady did take a hot chocolate). I walk out to the first lady, and she turns me down, but we then have an hour long conversation. It was one of the(as the title of the post suggests), weirdest conversations she’d ever had.

She was a friendly lady, and had led a….rather…interesting life. During our hour long conversation I figured out the following: She’s had multiple invasive surgeries to remove internal parts of her body(stomach, back, maybe liver, teeth). She lost her dad when she was 14. She has lost three of her sons, one of whom she thought was my age. She lost her two parakeets recently(she wasn’t homeless by the way, just had trouble paying bills). She has 1 cat, but feeds seven. She was a recently converted Mormon. When she converted her best friend said he’d never speak to her again(but now he doesn’t remember saying that). Her best friend has been ‘in love with her’ since the seventies. She says he ‘loves him too’, but doesn’t really. She just feels she has to say that. And some most unpleasant details about her medical life, and the deaths of her son. This list was in no particular order because I wanted the reader to feel the same sensation of a rapid onrush of that I did when talking to her.

Sidenote, she told me I would be so happy when I finally found the right girl. 3 out of my four encounters have had this conversation. I don’t know how it keeps coming up. I don’t mention girls. I don’t talk about relationships. They usually ask if I’m with someone, but this lady just started telling me I was going to find someone amazing without any prior relationship talk. I’m not sure what to make of this. I think it could mean I come off as relationship material, or maybe desperate. I’m going to choose to believe it’s relationship material.

Second sidenote, poor people are generous. While we were talking a man gave her a few dollars. This man had one of the most beat up cars I had seen pull up to the intersection. On top of that the first lady gave me a dollar to give to the second lady. Kind of touching to think that the people who have the least give the most.

Now, about the second lady, she also had a history. During our conversation I found out the following: she doesn’t have any teeth either. Her roommate helped some people break into her apartment to steal her money and pain medication. She was recently released from the hospital. She was in the hospital because she had blood clots in her lungs (which made it even harder for her to be out in below freezing temperatures collecting money). Her land lord was semi-illegally kicking her out(details about eviction law that I have not verified personally). Someone she knew tried to frame her for a drug deal. And I think there may have been something about the other lady at the intersection, but I’m not sure.

So, needless to say, there was not the normal feel good after glow after this one. I kind of just want to curl up and watch Disney movies for a few hours. Yet, I’m still very glad that I went. I think both of these ladies needed to talk about their experiences, and just feel some human companionship for a little while. It may have been very strange, but I think it may have been necessary as well.

I know this thing whole has probably seemed disjointed, jumped around a bit, and just genuinely chaotic. If it felt that way, it was intentional. Because that’s absolutely how it felt.

To end this on a positive note, my problems seem pretty laughable right now. I feel pretty good about where I’m at in life, after hearing about all of these horrible problems. I feel like I’ve got it pretty solid right now.

As always, I’d love to hear about the experiences you guys have had with the less fortunate. I’ll read them as soon as I can. Right now, I’m gonna go watch Disney movies.

S.D.G