Part I

“I think I’m going to run away.” I said, and set down my glass.
“Where would you go?” He asked, as if escape were a viable possibility.  Two girls were looking at me from across the room.  Under the dim bar lights and cigarette haze, they seemed to give off their own glow, one full and sensual like dark chocolate, eyes like liquid gold, the other striking and angular with startlingly red hair.  They were holding hands.  At the table next to them a man and woman were deep in conversation, their foreheads nearly touching.  In the opposite corner a beautiful woman sat alone with her wine glass.  Her long dark hair mostly hid her face.  She brushed her cheek with a hand.
“What’s the matter with Good?  Is she crying?” I motioned toward her.  My friend re-lit his pipe.  He ran a hand through his gray hair.  Looked exhausted.
“He left her again.”  Poor thing.  She took it like a champ, but this was becoming unpleasant.  “Worst thing is the sisters over there’ve been givin’er a hard time.”  Soul whispered something to the redhead and she laughed, green eyes flashing my direction again.
“Are they really sisters?” I asked.  I mean one was black and I was pretty sure Romance was Irish.  She had an accent, but it might’ve been faked.
“Ha! And I’m their father.”  His eyes crinkled and he exhaled vanilla smoke, shaking his head.
“Just a sec.” I said, picking up my glass and crossing the room.  I set it on Good’s table and sat down across from her.  She looked up and I saw the tears still on her face, but her eyes were clear and when she spoke here voice was steady.
“Where will you go when you run away?” She asked.

When All One Governs Are Spades

    She suspects that she is somehow intrinsically incapable of contentment.  She beats her fists bloody against the walls of her “prison,” then weeps at the door to be let back in.  She wonders if happiness forsakes her because she never looks hard enough, or because she looks in the wrong place.  It is simple and impossible to prove nonexistence.  Figuring it is probably her fault, she wishes someone would just tell her how to be happy. The problem is that someone already has.  She’d listened to him (more than one “him,” in fact,) and he was wrong.  He is always wrong.

Indie Day

There’s something irreplaceably fantastic about the perfectly soundtracked day.  It’s a difficult thing to master due to extenuating circumstances like work and radio, not to mention availability.  But when the sun rises to Andrew Bird, Modest Mouse carries you to lunch and and the live version of that one song by that hot redhead you have a crush on sings you home again, you wonder why it doesn’t happen every day.  You clean your house to Hello Saferide and the Department of Eagles.  Black morning sneaks up on As Tall As Lions, but you won’t sleep because tomorrow will be ordinary.

The End

In the few awkward moments between when the world existed and when it didn’t anymore, we all just sort of stood there wondering if we should sing or something.  It was weird to think that the only songs left were the ones in our heads but we tried not to dwell on it.  Too depressing.  The princess hummed a little, but I don’t think she understood what was happening.  Sienna cried quietly into her hands and God bless the prophet for not saying “I told you so.”  The wizard looked as though this were the best show he’d seen in years.

The Long Awaited, Much Anticipated Arrival Of The Wizard

“The Harry Potter costume is a bit much, don’t you think?”  I asked.  The wizard looked irked.  He cleaned his glasses carefully.
“Tell me about your princess.”
“She’s malfunctioning.” I said. “Sienna thinks she’s blown a fuse.”
“Did you try changing it?” The wizard put his glasses back on.
“Changing what?”
“The fuse.”  The frames were empty.  His eyes blinked back at us through empty space.  I wondered what he’d cleaned.
“What do you mean?”
The wizard sighed.
“The world is ending.” said the prophet hopefully.
“Is it?” The wizard looked intrigued.
“Is he an idiot?”  Sienna whispered.  I didn’t know.

In The Event Of A Crash Landing

“What, exactly will save her from?  I mean, if the world ends…”
“Just because this world ends doesn’t mean all worlds have to.” I said.  The prophet looked confused.
“How will you get her there?”
“Do you think she’ll hurt herself?”  I asked, observing the princess.
“I don’t think she can do much damage.  Her circuits are already on the fritz and she’ll probably need a complete systems overhaul.  Might as well enjoy herself now.”  Sienna smiled for the first time.
“How will you get her there?” The prophet was relentless.
“Not sure.” I yawned. “Wait for the wizard I suppose.

The End of the World

“The world is ending.” said the Prophet, observing the princess kicking herself repeatedly in the face.
“You think everything means the world is ending.” said Sienna mildly.
“That’s because it is, and it does.” the Prophet looked put out.
“Every Prophet for a thousand years has predicted the end of the world.” I said.  “What makes you so lucky?”  The princess stopped kicking.
“What if the world actually is ending?” Sienna looked at me.
“We’d save the princess.”
“Why?” asked the prophet.  We looked at him.  He changed tactics.  “How?”
“I’m not sure.” I said. “Wait for the wizard, I suppose.”

The Malfunctioning Princess

(For Madelyn, the first princess to malfunction, and Sienna, who looked after her.)

“The princess is malfunctioning again.”
“Again?  Really?  What is it this time?”
“I’m not sure.  I think she might’ve blown a fuse or something.  Her regulation seems off.”
The princess’s white dress glows faintly in the gathering dark.  We watch her running lopsidedly down  the side of the ravine into a tree.  She rebounds and runs into it again.  Faint high-pitched yells drift up to us.
“Well, what shall we do?” I ask.
“I-I’m not sure.” She looks nonplussed.  The princess stops running into the tree and now appears to be biting it.  “Wait for the wizard, I suppose.”

Another 55 Word Story About The End Of The World

It happened in the middle of the day too.  A nice day.  No nuclear winter or smog covering, just your typical, beautiful September morning.  Last One was the first to see it coming, which is actually a little strange.

Huh, She thought, squinting at the sky a week before her wedding. Well this just sucks.

Looking Back

It’s an odd thing to look back on the end of the world. It’s not typically what one thinks one would remember, although it’s unforgettable. I wish I could say I made it through by hitching a lift on a flying saucer or something else awesome, but seriously, those things don’t happen in real life.