I only remember that dark, windy night. The accident. I was having a dreadful headache. I hit the wrong pedal, I accelerated. From there on, I can't remember anything, just me waking up in an ambulance. I couldn't hear anything, just my own breath hyperventilating. Immediately, I arrived at the hospital and the nurses took me to a private room to be checked. It was bizarre that they checked me constantly, which led me to believe I was very injured. I was trying to sleep when I heard a doctor entering the room. When I opened my eyes, I saw a tall man with a white coat. He said that I needed to be transferred to another hospital where I could be monitored by specialized equipment. They took me to a black van where I couldn't see anything through the windows. They started talking. I couldn't hear any words from the stress I was experiencing. Abruptly, I started feeling very dizzy. —Do you know where you are?— That was the first thing I heard after waking up. I was sitting in a chair looking at the wall, zoned out. I just got transferred or at least that was what they told me. Apparently, there was an accident; I can't remember anything. —Pass patient 16 to a room, he is not answering— No, no, no. What room? Get me out of here. I got to the room. I want to get out of this place, yet I don't even remember my name. I just want to get out. —Get me out of here— I repeated to myself while the people in white coats were connecting stuff to my body. I don't want this, make it stop! —Get me out of here— I yelled, but apparently, no one heard me. —Get me out of here— I cried out for help, again no one heard. I was trembling. I couldn't feel my body, which to be honest, I didn't even recognize as mine anymore. My heartbeat quickened. Tick tock I heard a clock. —Get me out of here!— Tick tock. —Get me out— Tick tock. —Get me— Abruptly, everything went dark. Silence. I wasn't dead, I couldn't be. —Patient 16– then everything was bright again. —You blacked out— said the man in a white coat. Then everything went back to normal, if normal is the word to define this whole situation. The past days, the doctor said I've made improvement both physically and mentally. I don't know how I made progress if I never felt off. However, I do experience nightmares, and I don't like the looks I am getting from the people in white coats. They seem as if they are hiding something. The doctor said fresh air would be good for me and that I needed to go for a walk. I don't like going for walks, it scares me. The voices in the halls scare me; nevertheless, I'll go later. I don't know where I could end up. I evaded the halls; I couldn't help myself. They're too scary, so I made my way through the garden. I ended up in a forest with yellowish-leaves. I lost track of time. There were stones on the ground with names of people, also there was a big hole that looked as if it was going to be filled up soon. I panicked; I don't like to panic because of the voices, the voices that come from nowhere. They talked about death. I refuse to think I'm going insane because if there is one thing I am is sane. Rain poured down, it felt like acid. As the rain showered on my shoulders, I ran. ——— My phone rang; I picked it up wondering what could've happened so late at night. —Dr. Collins here— I answered. —Yeah Collins, I've got a patient here; he's outside. He's at the yard, you know, the yard— he emphasized, it was obvious he was at the graveyard, but why? —Also this patient doesn't match any of the files I have here, Is he a…— —Patient of mine?— I interrupted, anyone could be hearing. —Yes, yes he is. I'm on my way— then I hung up. Before I left I checked on our latest operating procedures on our “volunteers”; most of them were still in progress. I went quickly to the main lobby. Once the door opened, the cold wind of late autumn night flew through my coat, down the hall Dr. Bailey spotted me. —Collins!— she called my attention. —Bailey— I responded. —Our procedure with 66 was a succes, yet there is a patient outside, patient 16– she stated. It couldn't be 16 he was… —I'll hurry, thank you— I interrupted my thoughts and arrived at the CCTV room. —Stephan?— —Hello sir, you see the patient, he's been staring at that stone for at least ten minutes— I then saw him turn around. When he saw the camera, he ran into the woods. I had to go. —Sir, there's a gate, after our last escape we reinforced it— I left without answering. ——— I felt scared, the eye on the wall, it looked at me. I ran into the woods. The voices kept screaming, sounds of pain. Someone screamed. I felt whimpering, the voices were no longer there, no more screams. There was a thunderstorm. A shower of lighting hit the ground. As the last strike hit, so did my body, and everything went cold.

While rummaging through his op-ed notes, which he had barely jotted down, as he stood up to leave, Rufus sighed, as his mind or rather what was left of his sanity began to take a plunge into the abyss of what he called ‘the nihilist's cave'. It had been a rough day, as he had been staring at the blank Word document for hours, just waiting for the divine intervention after which he could start summoning his magical word prowess but all to no avail; the only highlight of the day remaining to be that of the scuffle he had with the Executive Editor-in-Chief of the newspaper, about his previous article being provocative. Rufus had come out with blazing guns, all pointed towards the Editor, declaring him as a threat to the ‘real' journalism; yes, Rufus was extremely protective of his work, be it good or bad. Anyways, now he was reminiscing and thus, going down a rollercoaster of emotions, with clouds of emptiness and a grief unbeknown surging throughout his heart, making him feel nauseous. He clinched the edge of his desk as hard as he can, such that his hands were soon red as a freshly pluck cherry. His mind gradually filled with doubts: was his work really magical or did he even have a passion for journalism? Amidst the war raging through his mind, he felt like a loser, as simple and as basic as that. ‘Your work is losing its quality, Rufus.' ‘Your articles don't exude that energy anymore.' ‘Don't you think that this career may not be the right choice for the person like you?' Colleagues' rants, boss' remarks, and a part of his own soul were simply breaking him into shards of nothingness, at the moment. The cab that he had booked had left after waiting for half an hour. Yet, here he was, alone in the office, slowly succumbing to despair. He remembered the Sales Manager job, Dad had told him about, just a week ago, when he had asked him for some money to pay the rent, because his writing job at the local newspaper hadn't been paying him much, as he hadn't been able to feature for some weeks now. He thought that maybe he should apply for that job, with a dilapidated state of mind. The prospect of writing down the resignation letter for his current job, soon surfaced up. Putting his op-ed notes back, he switched on his old Dell laptop, which at least took ten minutes to light up. Navigating the cursor, through the tiny alleys, surrounded by app icons, he finally reached his destination: the same blank Word document which he had stared at, the entire day. As he was going to complete the first sentence of his resignation letter, his phone beeped; it was an Instagram notification. A woman named Philly had direct messaged Rufus, while sharing one of his written pieces, which he had uploaded on his blog page. ‘OMG, I am in awe of how beautifully you write!!! TBH, I think you have made my day!' As he read the message, tears swelled up, his mind cleared and remembered his Literature teacher's words, ‘Rufus, People won't necessarily read what you write, let alone like it. So just remember that you just have to write on and on. That's what makes out the best of the writers.' The divine intervention that he'd sought the entire day for writing had finally come; it was simply a two-liner message on Instagram. He couldn't thank Philly more. Whenever he rethinks about resignation, Rufus remembers that day and Philly. It is the smallest of messages which may mean the whole world to anyone.

On a rainy day, the drivers hooked their horns while waiting for the traffic to flow again. Nearly 45 minutes to 60 mins of cars backed up from the highways, and the drivers began to be impatient with each other until the patrol police officers controlled the traffic, allowing people that get to their destination. Over by the pizzeria, Nicholas' Seeker, I begin my work shift by checking to see if screens need to sort out, restacking the boxes, grabbing sauces from the coolers, and refilling the parmesan and powder sugar shakers. As hours pass through the evening, orders flood the screens within minutes; Simon, the general manager, told us to kick into high gear. When I saw the food items flowing out from the oven, I suffered from a panic freeze and silently imagined daydreaming. Rosa and Lisa saw me freeze in my imagination and woke me up with a musical shake on my body. Immediately I woke up and witnessed food items dropping on the ground like a gumball machine. While they work on new and remake orders, Lisa, Rosa, and I speed us boxing orders as road runners dodge the coyote's traps. After four to five hours of rush orders, the screens started to clear, and everyone took a short break while eating, snacking, or drinking. While some days can run smoothly, there are days where it's out of control and let course take its wheel. That's why I kept pushing and let my mind run free. Next time we have rush orders, I'll bring my lucky pants and hat.

A peaceful and rapid rain poured over the State of Texas. People hook their horns to the nearest front cars while waiting for the green light to turn on. The ground begins to create puddles that spread wildly like a portal. Over by the pizzeria place, Nicholas' Seeker, Kyla clocked in to prepare for her shift. She placed her purse inside the office while grabbing her drinks from the oven. Kyla checks to see if anything needs to complete before starting her day. She became one of the recognized employees the customers enjoyed seeing daily. Everyone loves the smile on her face, which helps them keep faith that their day runs smoothly. One of the managers, Rosa, waits for her to take over the oven and layer a chicken box and bread box. "Hola!" Kyla shouted. "Hey, mama. I'll be back. I need a smoke break," Rosa said before walking away. "Gotta it. Leave it to me," Kyla said. The general manager Simon returned from the restroom and washed his hands before jumping onto the makeline and telling the workers to load the three ovens. The orders flood the screen, triggering the workers to kick into high gear and make these orders quickly. "Kyla, we're loading all three ovens. Let us know if you need help," Bella said. As the food items pile close together, she breaks a sweat and immediately needs assistance at the oven. Brie and Lisa ran to Kyla's aid to help her. "Brie, read the tickets, and I'll help Kyla," Lisa said. Brie nods and begins reading the tickets. Even with three workers, the oven pushes the food out like a vending machine dropping candy or snacks. Kyla's speed could be better, which makes her feel low self-esteem and silent from speaking. "Come on, Kyla. Let's push forward and worry less about everything else," Brie said. "How nice of you, Brie? I want to go fast like Sonic or Road Runner, yet I can't kick into high gear. I'm like a sloth, who sleep all day and night, and come to work feeling like a zombie," Kyla said while laughing softly. "Oh, yea? I didn't sleep last night because my neighbor committing a mistake in front of my house was okay. I came in two hours late from my shift time after finding out what they did," Lisa said as she laughed. Kyla and Brie couldn't contain their inner laughter and release it. As the last food items were boxed and sent to the customers, Rosa returned from her break and saw them sweating off their bodies. "Rosa? I thought you left," Brie said shockingly. "You said you promised to come back and left me to dust with these orders," Kyla said. "Well, excuse me, miss! I came in early this morning and carried these heavy boxes myself without help. Afterward, my back hurt, and I dislocated my ankle went I slipped onto the floor," Rosa said. The ladies looked awkward and walked away for a short break before another round of rush orders. Kyla sighed as she barely survived the short period of food items coming out quickly; however, with the help of her coworkers and managers, she managed to do little work while they picked up the slick.

She lay sprawled on the couch as sunlight slowly warmed her body. For Agnes, it didn't get any better than that. Everyone told her that she was gorgeous, and she knew she was: one foot tall, piercing copper eyes with the softest black hair imaginable that covered her entire body, and a resting facial expression that can only be described as a person impatiently waiting to speak with the manager. Gorgeous was the only word that made sense. The humans, or staff to Agnes, shouldn't be back to the office until later so she planned her day: napping until whenever the hell she felt like getting up, eat some food, and wait to glare at her staff when they walk in the door. “DING DONG!” Agnes jumped and stared. She knew that sound. That sound came from somewhere above and usually indicated that her staff was arriving. Why are they here? She didn't even get a chance to take a nap or have her fourth breakfast. Agnes rolled over, sat back on her legs, and glared at the front door. The door slowly opened and one of the humans walked in. They walked over to her and Agnes, a gracious host, allowed three (only three) strokes of her hair before she needed to get on with her day. Shortly after, the other human came home. What the hell is going on?! Why are they both here?! Both seemed frantic which was amusing to Agnes. She kept hearing “COVID” and “stay at home”, but Agnes isn't bilingual, so she ignored the words while purring at the chaos. Time went on and Agnes saw the days getting longer. WHY ARE THEY STILL HERE?! Everything is all wrong! Agnes is unable to sun herself in her favorite spots because one of the stupid humans put something called “desk” in her morning nap spot, the other is on the phone CONSTANTLY, and both are here…. every…freaking…day. What did she do to deserve this?! Agnes acknowledged that she could have been nicer, allowed for more hair strokes (employees deserve bonuses), and could have encouraged autonomy but damn it she had a schedule! While she did her share of complaining, she did notice some perks with them being there. She was able to get her favorite snacks throughout the ENTIRE day, began a rigorous cardio routine because the humans released the very fast red bug from the small silver tube that flies along the floor while Agnes sprinted to keep up, and she finally trained them to stroke her hair in a way that was enjoyable for both parties. One of the humans also made space on the thing called “desk” which has now become her primary napping spot. Agnes missed her alone time, but she started to see the benefit of working with her employees. As time went on, Agnes noticed the humans weren't as annoying as they were before. In fact, she enjoyed their presence! She greeted them when they walked into the room, allowed for them to pet her as many times as they wanted, and couldn't wait to nap with her staff on “desk”. Subtly, her staff would be away from the office for periods of time which worried her, but they were still at the office most of the time. This changed when the word “vaccine” started to creep into her ears. Being the most intelligent of her kind, Agnes learned that “vaccine” was going to allow her employees to leave the office for longer periods of time. She became frantic. Does this mean that the one named “Ben” won't be talking to her while they are both at “desk”? Will the one called “Michael” not be giving Agnes snacks throughout the day? What's going to happen to the little red bug in the tube if they are not released? She needed to know and was determined to keep her staff at the office indefinitely. Agnes created a three-step mission that would interfere with anyone attempting to leave. First, she planned to throw her entire body weight on their clothes before they change. There was NO WAY they would be able to move her. Next, she would sit in front of the kitchen counter where her humans get something to drink. Clearly, they wouldn't dare to move past. If all else failed, she would rub her hair against their legs while purring to emotionally manipulate her staff. The staff loved the silkiness of her hair. Unfortunately for Agnes, her plans haven't worked, but she is hopeful and consistent. Each day, Agnes continues her efforts to keep her staff at the office, and each day her staff thwarts her plans. While this may be defeating for some, it is not for Agnes. She knows that they will be coming home and knows that they will be so happy to see her when they walk through the door. Agnes fondly remembers playing video games with her staff, weaving between their legs while they are cooking, watching movies that scare the one called “Michael” while making the one called “Ben” laugh, and waking up from her many naps to see her staff working away. Today, Agnes sits on “desk” and watches her humans walk out of sight. She knows that they will be back, tomorrow is another day, and her plan will work. But right now, Agnes can't help but wish that they were still here.

Being a Nigerian, Yoruba, Muslim girl makes my life different from every other teenage girl's life except for those who share the same attributes with me; those who are Yorubas, Nigerians and are Muslims. I'm dark, and I love my melanin skin so much. It suits me perfectly. Yes, I am beautiful. I learnt to appreciate my beauty when I grew up amidst those who admired me. They admired my large, round eyes and my well tinted eyelids. Just as you've thought, everything about me is admirable, maybe that's why I'm called Awoke ( My traditional Yoruba name_ someone we see to pamper). Living in Nigeria, I had to go through the 6-3-3-4 system, which means 1 year pre-primary, 6 years primary, 3 years junior secondary, 3 years senior secondary and 4 years tertiary education. Tertiary education covers universities, polytechnics and educational colleges. Though, the four years wasn't static all through. It depended on the course one studied. I had to leave a little, in search for the best. My choices were revolving around me, and the time was ticking along with it. That was what I, Aliyah Yunus, had to go through, and I was halfway there already. I was really anxious. I wanted to know the outcome as I held my phone closely to my face, waiting to receive an SMS from 55019. It was the 2021 JAMB (Joint Admission Matriculation Board) examination I wanted to register for. I had been trying my luck for the past three weeks. Most of my classmates already got their ten-digits profile code and they were already taken by the school to the JAMB office to get them registered for that year's examination. “Dear Yunus Aliyah,…….” I received the message I've been longing for. I read it line by line, as my hands trembled in excitement. I screamed, causing my brothers, Mubarak and Ikhlas to rush in. I smiled at them and said, “They've sent it!” They laughed, walking out of the room. I followed them and went to inform Mom. She was happy too. I knew I could have waited till he got home, but I called Dad on phone immediately and told him too. I couldn't see his face though, but I could imagined the smile on his face when he said, “Congratulations, Baby girl!” They were all happy for me. It worths it actually, because I remembered that after what Mom said to me that Sunday, I decided to focus on studying and let my worries fade. But when I tried it on Monday, and it failed again. I couldn't even hold back my tears. Then on Tuesday, the school registrar, advised the rest of us to get a new SIM card with our NIN {National Identity Card}, then use it for the registration. I decided to skip school on Wednesday. I went with for the SIM card. I took a long time before I could all get it done. I was told to wait for some hours before trying to make use of the SIM card for the registration. So on Friday, after I returned from school, I quickly took my phone and tried it. I fixed my eyes to the screen of the phone, staring intently at it when the message came in. I was happy that night. “Aunty Aliyah!” My little brother, Tasleem, called out, breaking me out of my reverie. He is the last born of the family and he is so cute. I turned to him and said, “ It's Sister Aliyah, not Aunty. Okay?” He looked at me for a while as if he was studying something on my body before he finally replied with a nod. Most Nigerian children do mix the title “aunty” and “sister” together. And I find it somewhat annoying. He wanted me to help him with his school assignments, which I gladly did. It was in the afternoon on Saturday, we just finished taking our lunch when my siblings decided to watch a movie, Columbiana on MN-movies, DSTV. I decided to read my physics. When it comes to physics, there's always that lackadaisical look on my face. So I always tried my best in studying it more than other subjects. I couldn't afford to fail it. I'd sit for it in the upcoming JAMB exam. It was also one of the five main courses in my Ordinary level (O'level) exams that would be accessed for my admission into University. “Static electricity” I murmured to myself as I opened my textbook. After two hours of studying, I went to the living room. I grabbed the remote and sat on the sofa. I excitedly switched to watching on of my favorite shows, “Botched”. My brothers hate it so much because they found the plastic surgeries done on the show disgusting. Though I do not fancy being a plastic surgeon, studying medicine has been my utmost goal. To study that gracious course called MEDICINE AND SURGERY in any of the Nigerian universities, especially in schools like Obafemi Awolowo University (OAU) in Ile-Ife, University of Ibadan (UI) in Ibadan, University of Ilorin in Ilorin (UNILORIN) or other federal and state universities, one has to work really hard. I had it in mind that I would go to OAU with Aisha and Jamal, who wanted to study Pharmacy and Computer engineering respectively. I already knew the implication, which was to study really hard to pass my exams.

​I find it annoying that most people when they say 'I love fish' feel no need to specify 'dead' and 'fried'. Some people throw in the word 'to' in the middle but that is hardly the point I am trying to make. That one kind of conveys both meanings at the same time. It kills two birds with one arrow. Or two fish with a bait, to be hilarious. Anyway, the conversation Finn and Gill were having wasn't any better than this. "The weather is fine but it cod be better." Gill hummed in a shrill voice, banging her beer can hard on the table. "Oh dolphinately." added Finn as he cackled, slapping his hands on his lap. "Holy Carp! You are krilling me" Gill said from the other side. Her voice had hit the roof of her pitch. She could as well be in an Acapella. "Oh Cod! It cannot get Betta than that!" Finn replied gulping down his can in one go, spitting out half of it in middle of giggles. "Finn, that one was eel-y eel-y good! Oh my god, could this night get any punnier?" Gill replied as she choked herself laughing. The next minute she jumped of the stool, her stomach paining from all the manic energy. She needed to stop. "You need to clam down, buddy" Finn shouted at her as she walked around trying to stop laughing. Her entrails hurt from the vibrating. She was getting a little dizzy. Less from the beer, more from the puns. "I got one more, Gill! It is an FIN-teresting one" Finn lost it too at this one. He was rocking in quivers of laughs, spit falling out, jaws hurting, beer raining around. And Gill joined in, chuckling even harder than she was at the start. "Ok stop now. I can't laugh... Haaaaaaaa..... No really... You are such a pain in the ass!" she said hoola-hooping into another cackle. "Do you mean, pain in the BASS?! HEEEEEEE! GET IT? PAIN IN THE... BASS." More laughter. More spit. More eyes looking at them, two drunkards laughing there bass off. "Ok we need to stop. Otherwise we'll have to get tr-OUT!" Gill said as she slipped and banged her head on the barstool, then got up and continued to laugh in an even stronger fit. "Yeah, yeah, they will probably call the oooo-fish-ials on us." More laughter. "You don't want the cops as your anemonenies" It was finally time that they settled down back into their seats rubbing their bellies. The people around were probably glaring at them. But they were too late to care at this point. "I can't Fink of anemone" Finn said. Gill smiled. The joke was done. It didn't feel that funny anymore. The fading laughter brought back the ichthyologist. "So, this is it. I am leaving tomorrow" she said rubbing her head and throwing her hair back. "Yeah... Tomorrow... You better solve the Freshwater Fish Paradox." She smiled and chuckled a little. "You are making it sound like it's a big deal. It's just a research. To study the patterns in freshwater fishes and extrapolate data to account for their evolution." "Yeah, I don't know, that sure sounds like it's a big deal." "You were saying something earlier? Before the puns?" she said. "Oh, I guess I was. I... I don't really remember now." Silence. "I will tell you if I remember." "Yeah." The waiter walked in, his face knotted in disgust. The puddles of beer around the floor were enough to trigger his mood from bad to foul. But as he reached the table, he managed to pull the most artificial fake smile. "Here's your prawns, sir! Anything else?" "No that would be all!" The sight of prawns brought a smile back on their faces. "You know, when you first told me that you love fish?" Another giggle. "Yeah I do." "Right. I had thought you liked... Eating fish." Yet another giggle. The blushing kind. "I know." "Okay, you know what. I... I like you." The blood in his face was hot. Looking in her eyes, he could see the same. The smiling lips flattened into surprise. It felt like an infinity. In-fin-ity. Stop it. It's not the time for puns. She halted there, completely still for a moment. And then slowly, the smile grew back. And it grew larger. "So... You want me to be your Gill-friend?"

Gayatri had a basement in her house. It was basically a store room for all the old discarded things. If Gayatri ever needed to replace anything in her house then first she would look for its replacement in the store room below and if found something useful then she would use it. One day, she realized that a bulb in her kitchen wasn't turning on. "Well it seems I am going to need a bulb", she said to herself, "Let's see if the basement has one." and she went to the basement. In the short time of her reaching the basement, all the sleeping old things woke up after hearing what she said. These things would always get excited when Gayatri needed something and they would get anxious to see who will finally leave the dirty store room. In fact, all of those things used to pray for such a circumstance to come when Gayatri will need something and finally they will be put to some good use rather than living there , because some of those things were living in that pile of garbage since a very long time. And among those very old things was an old dirty glass bowl. Aside from the fact that it was dusty, the bowl was actually beautiful. It was small and had designs of the flowers fantastically crafted on it! After knowing that Gayatri was coming down in the basement to look for something she needs, the bowl woke up from a long sleep and said to himself with deep hope, "At last! Gayatri is coming here after a long time! I wish at least today she will notice me in this pile and who knows? She might pick me !" Upon hearing these words, a lamp hung above the lying bowl, opened and rolled his 'flashing' eyes on the bowl, he laughed at the bowl's unrealistic hope and said, "Stupid! Did you not hear Gayatri's words? She needs a lamp at this moment and that's what she is coming to look for here, so obviously she is going to find out that I am a what she requires more than any of you. I will finally be free from this pile of garbage and live in Gayatri's kitchen to brighten up the surrounding! So tell me, bowl, how can you hope so foolishly for her to pick you? What would Gayatri do with you?" A smile appeared on the bowl's face by the lamp's question but the smile had a bit of sorrow in it. He answered, "My friend, Gayatri was just nine years old when her aaji (grandmother) bought me for her. She used to make Gayatri's favourite rice kheer and feed it from me to her. Gayatri loved eating by her aaji's hand and I loved watching them being so happy together. Some time went by and our beloved aaji passed away, both me and Gayatri were sunken in sadness. As the days passed by, Gayatri stopped eating kheer as her aaji was not there to make it and feed it to her which eventually made her ignore me. A few more months passed and while rearranging some of the things in the house, Gayatri's parents accidently put me in this store room, since then I have been living here. I still remember the laughter, the joy Gayatri had with her aaji and those memories are the only thing giving me hope that someday Gayatri will notice me and I will share those precious memories with her again.", the weeping bowl looked at the lamp and said, "You asked me what would Gayatri use me for? But my friend, sometimes the memories of the past attached to a thing are worth more than its use for the present." The lamp, after hearing this, regretted acting rudely with the bowl and in an instant he decided to make up for it! He flashed his light so brightly on the bowl that the light was getting reflected off its glass! At the same moment, Gayatri entered the store room. With light shining so bright on the bowl, she noticed the bowl first, not the lamp! She came forward and picked up the bowl. After staring at it for just few moments, her eyes filled up with tears... As if the bowl was radiating the rays of memories, she recalled all the happiness of the childhood and more importantly, she remembered the smile of her aaji, as sweet as the kheer she used to make. For her memories' sake, Gayatri decided to clean the bowl and take it with her. Before leaving, she also took the lamp but suddenly, the lamp went out! "It was working just fine when I entered!", she was confused and even tried turning the switch on and off but nothing happened, the lamp wasn't turning on. "Ah! It must have gone off just at this moment. Never mind, maybe I should just buy a new one.", Gayatri thought and left the store room with the bowl, but before leaving with Gayatri, the bowl expressed his gratitude to the lamp, "Thank you friend! I won't ever be able to repay your debt! But tell me, why did you turn off yourself on purpose when you could've also left this place today with me?" The lamp smiled and answered, "Because my friend, I realized my true purpose today! Instead of living upstairs, I would like to stay here and enlighten the priceless memories hidden under this dusty precious garbage!" And Gayatri shut the door of the store room. THE END.

As a child, I would spend every summer vacation in Beijing. Every morning, I would wake up to my grandparents announcing the arrival of breakfast from the local farmer's market. “妞妞,” they would say softly. “We brought breakfast!” I would wake up every morning to the smell of delicious food and their beaming faces, arms adorned in plastic bags. There would always be tea eggs: Glorious, salty, delicious bombs of goodness encased in a cracked shell with brining liquid nestled comfortably in its crevices. I feel my mouth watering as I envision biting into the tender egg white, browned by a potion of soy sauce and tea leaves, my teeth sinking into the golden sun, the center of this eggy universe. My grandmother's (姥姥） love language was food. I distinctly remember her chasing me with a mantou in hand, calling, “Just one more bite!” She always reminded me to eat more, as I was a picky eater as a child, and at dinner time, my rice bowl would inexplicably refill every time I looked away. I pretended not to notice. It's been eight years since 姥姥 passed. Yesterday, I had tea eggs for breakfast. As I brought one to my mouth, I felt my throat clench up. I feel guilty about enjoying this treat without her. But then I remembered her reminders for me to eat more la, and I know that she would've wanted me to eat it. I swallowed the egg with difficulty as tears rolled down my cheeks. But I couldn't tell if they were tears of joy or sadness.

Temperatures are heading into the hundreds today making it the hottest day of the year so far. But I'm not complaining. Unlike some, I have the luxury of keeping myself cool during these sweltering days. With the touch of a button, I will have my AC unit running and the whole house will be like living in an igloo. Unfortunately, when I got to press the button, nothing happens. But I'm not in panic mode yet. Perhaps someone just accidently unplugged it in the middle of the night. However, I see the unit is still plugged in. OK, a little panic is setting in. I hit the button again several times, hoping it was just a minor glitch, but again, nothing. Now, I am in full panic mode. I head to the computer, wiping the sweat that is already dripping down my brown, and search repair men in my area. There are only two and one of them appears to be on vacation for the summer. Of course, he is. I call up the other one, and after three rings, he picks up, easing my nerves a little. I explain my situation to him and asks him if it is possible if he could help me. It turns out his day is full and won't be available until tomorrow. " Tomorrow?" I say in disbelief. I have no choice but to agree to it. He would be there sometime between 10AM and 3PM. I thank him for his time and hang up. With no AC or fans, I am forced to spend the day in a sweltering heat. I can feel the sweat dripping down my back and my clothes are sticking to my body. I could not take it anymore and headed outside. The sun is burning down on me, but I escape it by taking shelter under the only tree that is growing in my backyard. I turn on the hose and gently spray myself with it. It's so welcoming on my warm skin. It's like Heaven. Until the water aggravates a giant wasp hanging around and it turns its sights on me. " GO AWAY!" I shout, swatting my hand at it. I can feel it trying to get into my hair. I hurry to turn off the water and run back inside. I don't think the outside is for me. Upon my return to the inside, I found it felt hotter indoors than out. I've had enough. I gather a tank top and shorts and head to take a cold shower. The feeling of the pounding cold water on my body is probably the best feeling in the world at this point. I never want to leave but the water bill would be massive. Fresh out of the bath with a cold glass of water and collapse on the couch. The hot air is not doing me any favorite. Despite the cold shower, the sweat just keeps coming. The phone rings and I lazily answer it. It turns out to be the repair man from earlier. He had a cancellation and is able to squeeze me in. Delighted and thrilled, I immediately say yes and dance a small jig around my living room and tell him I'll be waiting. I hang up the phone and sit on the couch, drinking my water and wait. Hours would pass, and still no sign of the repair man. I'm starting to have many doubts that he is going to show. My body is completely drenched in a sticky sweat I pick up my glass and try to take a drink only to discover the water is gone and the ice is melted. I head to the front window and peek outside. To my surprise, the repair has finally arrived. I nearly hug him as he starts in on the job. I allow him to do his magic as I wait in the kitchen. After an hour or so passes, the repair man returns to the kitchen and looks rather grim. " I hate to break it to you miss, but your AC unit went out and the part I need to fix it, well, I don't have it," he said to me. " What do you mean you don't have it?" " I'll have to order it for you, and I'll let you know when it comes in." " How long is that going to take?" " Oh, about three days or so. I suggest you buy a fan or two. The next few days are going to be unbearable. Good day, ma'am," he said, tipping his hat at me as he exits the house. " Three days?" I said, slowly sitting back down. " Three days?" Then the repair man poked his head inside and said: " Three unbearable days." " Oh," I groaned, resting my head on the table. At least it felt cool.

Rose was born in a frozen land. She knew nothing but winter. To protect her from the cold, her body began covering itself with ice. It kept the small bits of warmth inside, and didn't let them out. Ice covered her skin in layers. Rose couldn't sense what she touched. It felt like her body belonged to someone else, someone cold and numb. Rose traveled through miles of icy lands, reaching out to things that looked warm. Flowers, birds, shiny stones. Rose was putting them into her frozen palms to see if it would warm them up. Bright colors, loud sounds, tasty foods looked warm, but didn't feel like it. Rose walked and walked, far ahead. Dark nights started to intertwine with days. She was in a new land. The snow drifts roze up to the sky and turned into clouds, soft like cotton blankets. The air was warm, yet something inside of Rose stayed cold. She couldn't walk anymore. Her legs collapsed. She layed, eyes closed. Under the eyelids was frosty darkness, deep like the polar night. Rose reached out trying to catch its endlessness in her palms. She begged to be rescued, to be warm. To find out what warmth even feels like. Then she sensed something. Rose opened her eyes. The Sun was looking at her. It was the first time she saw it. As if all the light of the world gathered in one place. Each of the rays embraced Rose. She felt the ice on her skin melting. She cried for the first time in her life. Rose could move again, even dance, like the butterfly that once visited her dreams. She could. But she didn't want to. Even when layers of ice melted, something inside of her stayed cold. As if some part of the winter still lived in her. Rose glanced up, through her tears and said: "Thank you, Sun. I wanted to feel warm and safe. I thought that when I would, all of the dark memories would melt away. I would forget and never feel cold again. But now, I want to keep them, even the painful ones. Maybe, one day I will become my own sun. And I will warm them up. I will shine on this part of me, no one else can reach, and give it love". Rose smiled. From the puddles of melted ices her reflection looked up at her. She had a crown of shiny beams around her head. *** P.S. First time posting. I'm overwhelmed and excited at the same time. Please, share your thoughts about the story! I'm ready for the feedback. And scared of it at the same time ;)

It's windy outside, the breeze blowing strongly in the air as the waves collide against another, crashing alongside the clock that can't seem to stop ticking as I look up to see the pitch-black sky hovering above and its thunder of roars that are as loud as my ears can hear. BANG! Another life is lost amidst the chaos as the room is filled with screams that are as loud as the thunder itself. Who am I to blame for the noise they have made for what has yet to come is only the beginning. "Everybody stay calm! I repeat, stay calm!", The unfortunate soul yells as if his life depended on it, as he repeats the same line all over again like a broken record, "Everybody stay calm! I repeat, stay calm!". The fellow crew member should have never spoken, if he continues as it is now he'd be the next target, a target of example. "Everybody stay calm! I repeat, stay-" BANG! A shot rings in the air which creates more room for chaos as I glide to the scene across the deck and glance upon the figure meters away from me. The soul that was left to die has now begun to rise again with his blood dropping across the once brownish-looking floor becoming a puddle of blood. Luck must be on his side because the only part of his body that got injured was his left leg. “Are you okay sir? Do you need any help?” I ask with a plastered glazed look full of concern. I help the man up and guide him to the nearest cabin room that I could find and lay him down to rest. The rain is descending fast alongside the thunder making the atmosphere intense and chaotic, “I'll be fine for now, thanks for the help ma'am!'' as he strides along the path towards the door. “Where can you possibly go in that condition?” I asked just before he got a chance to turn the knob handle. “The situation is getting worse and worse by the minute, if we don't do something now then who knows what would become of us”, he moves me to the side and proceeds to leave the room. Why does he want to proceed with this so desperately? The thought seems to keep lingering in my head as I try to find a place to take cover for the night. BOOM! A loud noise comes that seems to seep through to even the deepest parts of the ship. As I headed towards the scene I saw the blessed ambitious soul throughout the distance. I stop and take a quick look at what lies in front of me. Lifeless bodies are seen along with the impact caused by the small yet effective explosion. The number of people on this ride has been chopped down to ½ and there is only a handful of us left. The once bright soul has now become dim as he witnesses the scene in front of him. “This is all my fault, this is all my fault!” As he mutters over and over the same lines non-stop. “Get yourself together!” I say grabbing his full attention, “Aren't you the one who said if we don't do something now it will only get worse and worse? We still got time!”, I yell as I try to convince him that it's not too late. Why do I try to convince this person? It feels like I have gone soft… a change of heart perhaps? At this rate, I might just ruin the plan. BANG! Another shot rings across the room and the people who have come out begin to panic. Fully recharged like a phone in need of charging, he says, “Let's gather and calm the people as we find an escape route!”. I along with the blessed soul split up to gather the panicked people who were fortunately away from harm's way. “The Captain is dead and the boat is sinking! What are we to do now!?”, exclaims the elegantly dressed lady. I begin to search desperately for means we can use to escape when I realize that there's an island near us. “We can escape through the back door, it's the closest and safest way. As we hurriedly escorted the calm-panicked people towards the exit, BANG! Another shot rings through the air but this time thankfully, everyone's been escorted and nobody's been shot. BANG! A flabbergasted look is being shown across the soul's face as he says, “Why does it have to be you?”. It's just the three of us, two against one yet, it seems like one of us cannot seem to choose sides. -The End-

Wealth provided by the mineral rich soil of the land doesn't cross Jimmy's mind as he works in his mother's garden. It was her health that furrowed his brow. She had fallen ill months ago, becoming bed ridden shortly thereafter. She was a very closed off person, an introvert one might say; Jimmy had only known her to be stern and reclusive, even in his own upbringing. Jimmy had not seen his mother past his 18th birthday, shortly after his father's passing. Jimmy went on to become an entrepreneur, trying his hand at one business venture after another. He failed at every avenue, stocks yielding low and Covid laying him lower. However, he lived his life his way, without the yoke laid upon him by the hands of others. Life was hard, but he was still breathing. He had not heard from his mother since reaching adulthood, and his immediate exodus from her domicile; although he had not sought her out either. It came as a surprise to him when a man claiming to be her physician called him and said Jimmy's mother had fallen ill, that she wanted him to come tend to her garden until she got better. Jimmy's mother was very protective of "HER" garden. It was the one thing she truly cared for… "more than me even," he mused. She did not deserve respect, but Jimmy's father instilled a very strong ethical will within Jimmy. He did as he was asked. Jimmy went to his mother's home every day to tend to her garden. He would garden for over an hour then leave. He never went into her home. She never called on him or asked to see him, nor did he to her. This carried on for months, Jimmy a man of his word and a good son… for his "father's sake" Jimmy would tell himself. One afternoon, Jimmy pulled into the driveway of his mother's home to see an ambulance outside along the street. It was beginning to pull away… no flashing lights… no sirens. An old man in a black suit with greying black hair approached Jimmy with a solemn expression. "Jimmy, I take it?" The voice of his mother's physician. "I regret to inform you, but your mother has passed away." Jimmy stared at the man for a moment then turned coldly to walk to the garden. As he went to where he usually begins his tending, he noticed a mound of freshly turned soil. Jimmy kneeled down and shifted the soil to find a metal box. He looked at the physician who smiled and walked away. Jimmy opened the box to find an envelope inside. Within the envelope were two sheets of paper. Lettering upon the first read: "I'm sorry, I love you." A Deed to the home was signed over to Jimmy. Pictures were in there too, pictures of Jimmy throughout his life…past to present. His mother was always there, loving him the only way she knew how… from afar. (Image courtesy of Chris Yang unsplash.com)

Today is the day. Me and my twin sister's twelfth birthday, the birthday we have been looking forward to since we were six. It is a day of adventure, too. August 31, 2021—the day Marisol and I get to go into the Majikoa Woods. I have heard the legend a thousand times. Every time I visit my grandparents' house, or one of my mom's friends comes over, someone tells me and Marisol the story of the Wishing Tree, found in the Majikoa Woods. It is said to be just half a mile north from my house. Mom has never let us go into the woods because she doesn't believe in the Tree. She says she doesn't want us to be disappointed when we don't find it. But we kept asking and asking to go. When we were eight, she gave in and told us she would let us go when we turned twelve. She has always hoped and hoped we would grow out of believing in the Tree, but we never have. We are determined. The Wishing Tree grants one wish to anyone who comes. Marisol and I have had the same wish in mind for ages—I want Dad to come back. He left for Afghanistan seven years ago to fight. I can still feel the warm bear hug he gave me at the airport, trying to silence his tears. I can still see his green and brown camo uniform moving through the gate room. Marisol and I have never told Mom our wish—we have always told her we wanted to wish for money or new makeup. We didn't want to make her sad by telling her what we wanted most was Dad. She can't stand seeing us missing him and being upset. When I woke up today, just a few minutes ago, I jumped out of bed and tumbled onto my sister's, Marisol's, bed. I landed on her arm, so she groaned and pushed me away. She massaged her arm and quickly realized what day it was. A humongous, excited smile spread across her face. Now we are running down the stairs towards the kitchen. Mom hands us plates of pancakes and a platter of bacon. Marisol and I wolf down our meal, excited for the day to come. We don't want presents for our birthday. We don't even want a party. All we want is for Dad to come home. After breakfast, Marisol and I slide into jeans and T-shirts. We tie hoodies around our waists in case we get cold, and we put on our timberland boots. It is not long before Mom woefully says goodbye and we walk out the door. It is quite warm outside. There is a breeze that blows my hair around. I take a hairband from my wrist and tie my hair into a low ponytail. Marisol and I face the woods, giddy and excited. “Let's go, Lucille!” exclaims Marisol. I nod. We sprint to the tree line and then start walking north, careful not to trip on any logs or rocks. The view from the inside of the woods is amazing. The trees are everywhere, overlapping each other, which makes the woods more like a forest. The sunlight becomes tinted green when it passes through the trees' canopies, illuminating everything with a soft, chartreuse glow. Dragonflies and bees zoom through the bushes and trees, trying to avoid the slow, fluttering butterflies. According to the legend, the Wishing Tree is taller and thicker than the other trees, adorned with pastel pink flowers. When you make a wish, you're supposed to place your hand on the trunk and tell the tree your wish. Pretty simple. After about twenty minutes of walking, I spot a thick tree trunk in the distance. “Over there!” I yell, pointing. “Look!” We jog to the trunk and look up at the branches. I cannot explain just how much excitement I feel when I see the trademark pastel pink flowers that bloom on every inch of every branch. We found the Wishing Tree. It really does exist. Marisol outstretches her hand to touch the tree. I stay silent, watching her. She closes her eyes and says, “I wish for Dad to be home.” I swear I see the tree sparkle a little. Marisol removes her hand and motions for me to make my wish. I then place my hand on the trunk and close my eyes, just as Marisol did. The bark is rough and scratchy, like any other tree in the woods. This is the moment I've always been waiting for. “I wish for Dad to be home,” I say. I remove my hand and smile. Marisol and I bow to the tree, just as the legend instructed us to do. We begin our journey back to the house, following the same route we took to get to the tree. I only had one wish, and I used it for the biggest desire of my life. Now all I can do is wait. When Marisol and I reach our house's yard, we see a taxi pulling out of our driveway. They probably went to the wrong house. I turn the doorknob and I am surprised to see my mom hugging someone in an army uniform. Dad. Marisol and I run up to him, our eyes flooded with tears. He encases us in one of his signature bear hugs. I breathe in his warm scent: apples and cinnamon, with a hint of pine. It is a familiar scent, one that`` I smell when I bundle myself in his old, fleece blanket at night. Love and happiness course through me, overpowering everything else. My dad is home. My family is whole again. Wishes do come true.

Walking around crowds of people everyday feeling empty and being envious of those who've already captured their image of 'happiness'. It gets old.. days feeling as if they're getting longer by the second, not wanting to be around anymore but the same moment wanting a purpose to be around. A side character in those big important peoples lives.. I've accepted that- What is life's purpose ? Have you found it yet ? how do you find it.. how could you just make such a big choice at such an age.. "Where do you see yourself in 10-20 years ?" This is the very question that troubles me the most because I was asked this at the mere age of what? -10? Most kids that age say they want to be things you'd predict them to say, things such as an astronaut, doctors, lawyers or the president. When those kids grow and learn more they realize that life isn't as simple as saying a few statements and they come true. Someone once asked me "Would your 10 year old self be proud of the person you've become ?" and my answer to that was "They wouldn't even recognize me" i've changed so much in the midst of 5 years and with that change I've come to realize so much at such a young age. If only I could relive the best parts of my childhood all over again.. not having to acknowledge the things that hurt, nor the problems that come with your actions and always living in the moment. I wish to find something that'll make me feel as if I'm not just a wandering soul, as if I have purpose, something to allow me to feel "human". Something to fill the void within me. I've thought of so many things but yet none really interest me in a way of wanting to do it for a living. When will I find my passion ? Will I ever find it ? When will it all be too late ? No one knows and that's what's daunting.. not being able to know what's going to happen next without living it whether it being good or bad I wish that I could see things with the same curiosity and emotion as I once did.. I wish I could be as passionate about something as much as everyone else is, I envy everyone for that ability. The ability to dream, to keep dreaming, to have endless hope, to have the perfect mindset for all those things. If I could just do that would this empty feeling disappear? I yearn for something, someone, or an opportunity to cross paths with me, something to open my eyes.. something to fill the void within me.