Author: Derek Chatwood

The problem with most wishing machines was, of course, that they worked. When nine year old Drake Marshall brought his Wishing Machine in for show and tell, Miss Marsh thought it was a nicely done magic trick when a large toad appeared from just an empty cardboard box. Sally Spencer tried it and wished that mean Timmy Hawkins would turn into a fish, and everyone laughed, but Miss Marsh could have sworn she heard screams coming from a classroom down the hall. But the recess bell rang and the sound was drowned out. The Wishing Machine was transported to the worst possible place for a Wishing Machine: the playground.

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When asked about the videogame based on the dangerous and popular 1930s aerial sport, Hubert “Boss Hugh” Odworthy, the last known Sky Jouster still alive, got a little cranky.

“The game is rubbish,” Boss Hugh barked. “It wasn’t nothing like that. First off they didn’t use no wings to fly. Have you seen an ostrich son? Them tiny li’l flappers wouldn’t get them up off a nap, nevermind the ground.” Boss Hugh angrily flicked his cigar nub out the open window, checked if the nurse was around, and lit another. He continued, smiling. “When you were goin’ tap tappity tap on them buttons kid? you weren’t flapping her wings, you were pulling her finger!” With that Boss Hugh rolled back with a cackling laugh, that soon turned to wet rumbly cough.

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She wasn’t very good at her job. Couldn’t type, couldn’t file, and her coffee was shit. Booth treated her worse, berated her constantly, the dresses two sizes too small, the cloud of cheap perfume hanging over her, and those ridiculous sunglasses she insisted on wearing.

Now she was dead, and the only person who cared was just about the worst detective in the city. She was a terrible secretary, but she was Booth’s terrible secretary. The least he could do was be a terrible detective for her.

Architectural study of a street/facade in Bucharest, Romania.

Mom: Back so soon? I thought you were going to get ice cream after the movie?
Hannah: MOMMY THEY’RE DEAD! THEY’RE ALL DEAD!
Mom: What? What happened?!
Dad: It’s ok, she’s ok, no one is dead. The uh, the movie was just a little more.. intense than we thought it-
Hannah: WHY DID THEY HAVE TO DIE MOMMY? I DON’T WANT THEM TO DIE!!!
Mom: I don’t understand, I thought it was an animated kids’ movie!
Dad: Yeah I uh, sort of skipped the reviews. Turns out it was less Toy Story, and more like Animal Farm meets Schindler’s List.
Mom: Oh no.
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The tag was holding well. Liz reminded herself to thank Hank for the idea of a shark tag to track them. It was a little dicey spearing them, but she had really good data on their feeding and migration patterns now, totally worth the change of underwear.

Ms. Lonely Heart was heading back to the high school. Over the last month, since the tag was active, Lonely Heart followed the same loop through town, ending at the school every seven days. Exactly seven days.

Of course it was dangerous, following her, but Liz hadn’t seen a herd in ages. They moved on weeks ago to where the food was. But Lonely Heart stayed. why did she stay? She was thin, almost emaciated. Fresh blood on her, probably a small animal. No real predation left for her here anymore. Just the school. Liz followed her inside, hearing the whole team screaming in her head to not be so fucking stupid. But she was on to something.

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So I noticed recently that drunk people do some really stupid things.

The plan is simple. Print these out, maybe make some stickers, and put them up in various bar bathrooms around town.

See just how much stupid is possible.

The End.

Elsa: “No we can’t open the box, not ever. Uncle Erwin forbids it.”

Inga: “How long has his cat been in there?”

Elsa: “A long time. Since I was very young. But Uncle Erwin says if we open it, or even peek inside, then we might kill it.”

Inga: “But surely the cat is long dead by now.”

Elsa: “It is strange, but I don’t think so. There is no smell, you see. A rat died in a trap behind the wall once, and it took weeks to figure out where that horrible odor came from. But the box has never smelled, not even a little, not once. Uncle Erwin says the cat is both alive and dead, as if it is trapped in both states at once.”

Inga: “What would happen if we looked inside?”

Elsa: “Different things maybe, it’s kind of confusing. One time Uncle Erwin said just peeking inside will either save the cat or kill it. But then another time he said the moment we peek we would make two different universes, one where the cat lives and one where it dies.“

Inga: “Remarkable! To think all of that could happen from just putting a cat in a box. So what is in that larger box, by the window?”

Elsa: “That’s Aunt Annemarie. We can’t open that one either. I will admit, that one smelled quite a lot.”

100+ years as a mid-galactic pleasure cruiser, this t-bird got a complete refit as an inter-galactic capable taxi, fully rated for wormhole transit, full atmo entry/exit (non-acidic only), two passenger cryo. Complete maintenance/refit logs going back 120 years, she still has twice that ahead of her. Powerplant is dual singularity, half life of 170 million years. Needs new upholstery, wipers have trouble with gas clouds. Price is firm, but will consider discount with percentage of gross if she runs as a cab (Business plan required.)

Jakeem remembered what it was like before the sharks. He could play in the park, and go swimming. Now the only sky he saw, was through steel reinforced wire and glass. He asked his Dad why it happened, but doesn’t think he really knows. His Dad said it just happened, somehow. We did something wrong, broke the oceans somehow, and sharks just started flying. All of them.

Jakeem asked his Dad how do they fix it, but doesn’t think he knows that, either. His Dad told him they just have to figure it out, or learn how to live with them until it can get figured out. It might take a long time. It also, his Dad’s voice going kind of soft, might never happen.

Jakeem looked up at them, through the wire. And hoped it got fixed someday.