7. Ong Kong

"Sir, initial reports are in." Orjty looked far too pleased with himself.

The Captain sighed as he looked up from his console. He had been busy fiddling with the oglydinks and the last thing he wanted to do was read whatever garbled report these planetists had cobbled together. "What does it say, give me the short version."

"Sir it's quite fascinating. We observed the inhabitants for a period of no less then 13 quablocks. Something like  the time it takes for this planet to circle it's star. We estimated that a full season would give us at least an intial assessment period, long enough to make some basic assumptions. However, I must stress that we are of course only scratching the surface, so to speak."

"Yes yes, so what did you find out. What is the dominant species on this planet?" The captain reached for the Hoklink. delicious they were, if one could subdue them enough to eat them.

"It's a rather odd species sir. Small, extremely squishy and quite odd looking. Instead of growing their own protective coverings, they seem to make them from organic materials grown. They are not very agile, strong or fast. We had to wonder how they became the dominant species." Orjty looked quite excited, squishy organic species being his particular favorite to study. The captain his his suspicions on why.

"Intelligent?" The captain bit into another hoklink, ignoring the little squeel.

"We had to assume so sir, because they do have technology of some interesting standards. What interested us more was the speed at which they seem to be developing new technologies, as inferior as it is compared to our own." Orjty looked nervous.

"Did you study the species as an entirety or pick any particular tribe?" The captain felt this was a good, sciency question to ask, better to hide how little he understood what planetists did.

"That... would be difficult. Specially with the time frame we were given. We picked what we thought was a good representative of the species. We picked an island on sector 149. It is a small island which as far as we can figure the natives call Ong Kong."

"Ong Krong?" garbled the Captain. "What an odd name. Why did you pick this spot?"

"Well, we wanted either a tribe or subspecies that was sufficiently well advanced to best respresent the species. Sector 149 showed a very dense population within a small space. We also noted a great abundance of high structures, far more then anything surrounding, intricate pathways and of course, this sector was an incredibly bright spot on the dark side of the planet. There were of course many other brightly lit settlements but we chose this sector for the great variety of subspecies that seems to cohabit quite well."

"Is sector 149 the only place with these statistics?" The captain sat back and rumbled his Grblplon. He could use a sip of Wfbm right now.

"Well no, not precisely. There were other sectors that could have yielded usable data... but we tossed a hooblecrod to decide and Sector 149 was it."

To be honest, the captain didn't care how the decision was made. "Alright, and so what did you find out?"

"They seem to be intelligent..." Orjty trailed off.

"But?" prompted the captain.

"Well, it's rather interesting, while they do boast some interesting technological advances in recent years, they have done so little with it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well... "

"Spit it out, Orjty. I don't have all day."

"Perhaps I should put it this way, They build these entertainment units and almost every individual seems engrossed in them. They spend almost all their waking hours staring at these units as if connected on a subatomic neural level. They have big ones at home that flashes images at them. They have different units that they are connected to via primitive consoles and even tiny ones they carry around. While some productive activities such as communications are performed on this consoles, for the most part they seem to be used to observe images."

"What kind of images?"

"Well.. it's very strange, they stare all day at images of another species they seem to revere to some extent. It's a small four legged creature with soft outer follicular coverings, pointy ears that emits a sound like 'Miaow'. They will watch all day if they could."

"Surely they don't do this all day. What is their society like?"

"That is fascinating also. In this Ong Kong. The species seems to be divided into two genders."

"Only two?!" exclaimed the captain. Orjty nodded. "How terribly boring. Go on."

"Yes well, they are divided into something they call man and woman. Womans seem to spend a lot of time trading pieces of paper or swiping this strange piece of plastic for items to cover themselves with. They spend much of their time adorning themselves. It seems the more garish the combinations of colors and textures or outlandish, the better."

"And these... mans?" The captain fumbled saying the words.

"Well they will adorn themselves also but to some lesser extent. This is a species that seems to like fast things.  They spend quite a lot of time zipping about great distances. I have posited a theory in my report that much of their mating ritual occurs while speeding about. I have personally observed, at great risk to myself, some of these mating rituals in their underground transport systems."

"Do explain," said the captain in spite of himself. Who didn't like hearing about mating rituals?

"Well, some males seem to work hard to increase their own scent emissions as a sort of attractant to females. They may not bathe for a long period of time and insure oral uncleanliness. In the close confined spaces of their underground transports, the species will often force themselves in almost to bursting point. My theory is that inside these transports, their heady scents will be better scented by as many females as possible and the competition of other males can be better judged."

"Fascinating."

"Yes and other behaviors have been observed. It seems to be extremely unpopular to give up seating units to the elderly or infirm, especially by the more sexually mature. Perhaps as a way of asserting their dominance or perhaps attraction is heightened by inconsiderate behaviors."

"Very interesting, anything else?"

"We have observed gatherings of large groups together in different places. They often carry large placards or signs and loudly proclaim things. The best we have determined is that they are angry about something. We haven't yet ascertained the purpose of these loud noisy gatherings but considering how frequently they have been observed in this behavior, we surmise that this has some sort of reverential element such as worship. Perhaps they have a primitive practice of celebrating complaint."

The captain shook his head, "all this is interesting, but the question we came here to answer was this. Are they advanced enough to make contact with. Will our species benefit from any contact whatsoever?"

At this Orjty looked a little worried. "Sir, this is a fascinating planet and I hope to be granted permission to return for more research studies, however I am not sure they are suitably advanced."

"You need to be more specific," snapped the captain.

"I do not believe they are advanced enough. Indeed, I fear they never will be."

"That is a rather alarming assessment," said the captain.

Orjty shook his head sadly. "Well, sir, While they have built a quaint city of more then a thousand fairly high structures and designed some rather sweet if piddly transport units, their planet is dying around them. It's rather disheartening to see so many other inhabitants of this planet struggling to survive while they have not even figure out that what they throw out doesn't necessarily go away. They haven't even figured out the basics in waste management sir. It does not bode well for them as a species nor does it commend them as an even remotely advanced species, sir and if they continue on this course, their planet will be irrevocably changed."

"They haven't figure out waste management?"

"They bury the bulk of their waste sir, their recycling efforts are too small to be even considered."

"Oh dear nebulae. A species that doesn't consider waste management as paramount is not a species worth talking to."

"Exactly sir. I suggest we return to show our findings to the council. The next course of action should be decided by them."

"Yes Yes... " the captain considered awhile, "Imagine if our waste management systems were as backwards as theirs," he laughed.

"We'd be swimming in our own fglydoos!"Orjty finished for him laughing.

Yes it was rather sad sometimes how rarely they encountered a planet with a species worth talking to, but one had to have standards!

6. Stitches and Jesus

"Jesus will take care of you," she says.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" is my instant reaction but I'm quick enough to stop the words from actually leaving my mouth. I shouldn't say anything. I should be polite. I can't take out my anger on her. I can't stand to look at her however. She's short, fat with the most masculine haircut. That incredibly unflattering police uniform doesn't help with her lumpy dumpy figure. Do they deliberately design those uniforms to be as ugly as possible? They look alright on men. They must design them to be extra ugly on women. Why am I thinking about this?

Everyone is staring at me. Why? oh because I have my own personal police woman shadow. She's smiling at me. Her expression is sympathetic. How am I supposed to react? I have no idea. I inch away. I dont want to be associated with her.

"Dont worry, Jesus loves you. Dont worry." She wont leave me alone. She's always two feet away.
"If you accept Jesus into your heart, he will take away all your sorrows. Come with me to church. I will show you."

"Shut the FUCK up," I want to say. Instead, I say "I did go to church. I went to church since I was little. It didn't help."

"Jesus can take away all your sorrows." She's smiling, but her eyes are so earnest and vacant at the same time. How does she do that? And did she not hear me?A nurse comes and starts to lead me away. Vapid Jesus freak follows me. She never touches me but she's spouting Jesus phrases still. I have no idea what is happening. God I am tired. What time is it?

Suddenly I'm in a room, sitting at some small table with my arm stretched out. The nurse is taking off the makeshit bandage the paramedics put on it. I think it should hurt. It doesn't. Can't feel a thing.

A boy arrives. What is he a nurse? An intern? He pulls on gloves, grabs a stitching needle and thread. Shit he's my doctor. How old is he? 12?

"Hold Jesus in your heart. He will give you courage." Fundie policewoman now looks concerned. She looks like he wants to hold my other hand. I sit on it just to keep it away from her. I'm watching her face, amused. Why is she looking so scared, it's my arm.

I'm quiet for the local aneasthetic, but boydoc doens't wait to stick that curved needle into the ragged edges of my skin. "FUCK!" I cry. I was bracing for the syringe but not the sewing. He doesn't pause. He looks Irritated. Tired. As if he might just be home asleep if he didn't have to sit here stitching up this batshitcrazy patient. "you aren't very good at this are you?" I ask. Probably shouldn't. He's only on the first cut. There's several more.

Eleven stitches total. Fundie police keeps saying Jesus, Jesus. I follow her with my mouth shut. I'm back in the police cab. I'm at the station, giving a statement. It all seems to have gone so fast but that can't be right. The clock tells me hours have passed. It's 2am.

The police ask lots of questions about exactly what time. Exactly where. Exactly how. They dont ask about how long it's been going on. How many years. What else happened in the years before. They dont ask why I did what I did. That's the strangest part.

Then again, I wouldn't know how to answer. Why did I do it? I dont know. It seemed like a good idea at the time? Too flippant.

Why did I do it? To get attention? Too pathetic.

Why did I do it?  I wanted to mess up myself on the outside to show how messed up I was on the inside? Too weird.

Honestly? I dont know why I put myself in hospital. I didn't plan on it. It was probably the better option then putting someone else in hospital

"Jesus loves you. Come to church with me and you will see!" says Fundie police hag as she drives me home.

"I tried Jesus, he's not taking my calls. I'm going to try Satan instead," I say as close the police car door. I glimpse her face, it's funny but I don't linger to enjoy it. I go up to my apartment. It's empty. For the moment. I know he'll be back. They'll keep him in the station at least overnight. Something about drunken disorderly. They can't charge him with anyone else. He'll be back. But for now, I have a little peace and quiet. Just for that, I'm grateful to my stitches. At least I get that much. Jesus couldn't do better.

5. Inside the Tank

Day 67. MY captivity continues. I remember well my abduction, the sudden wrenching from my home into some strange cell with walls made of some unknown material. I was with another, a strange to me at the time, though we have now become quite well acquainted. It hardly seemed possible that such horrors could be happening to us. I can only imagine that my abductors have other plans then to eat me as I am still alive.

Day 71. More captors have joined me and my fellow abductee. They are different species from us, but still welcome for the company they bring. However I fear for their lives. They are so small and fragile. My brother and I have conferred and we agree that we must treat these newcomers with sensitivity.

Day 75. Our days are endless drudging bores. We swim in endless circles and become alive only when our captors dump flaky dry and tasteless food at us. Oh how I dream of happier days.

Day79. Our smaller brethren seem to be faring well, too well perhaps. We thought them weak, but they wreak havoc on our days. So much energy that cannot be contained in such a small space. I almost wish for the days when we lived alone.


Day 84. It seemed that one of our smaller brethren was pregnant. Our small cell is now infused with tiny fry, darting this way and that. I had a moment of panic fearing that overcrowding may be an issue. I am not proud of it, but out of fear, I may have eaten several of the fry. In my defense, space is limited and I must think of the future!

Day 94. I wish there was some way to communicate with our captors. My brother is quiet. I wonder if he misses home as I do.

Day 95. My brother grows sicker. I now fear for his health. If only we could find a way to help him. Surely those who keep us, with their advanced technologies could help us. I swam frantically, trying to communicate with sign language, bubbles, interpretive dance. Nothing worked.

Day 99. My Brother has passed. Our Captors took his corpse. We were not afforded a funeral. I seethe with anger and frustrations. I am am alone with these smaller irritating ones.

Day 113. My black mood has lifted. If I am to live in this hellhole then I must make the best of it. I turn to Philosophy as my solace. What is the meaning of life in a Tank? I will figure it out.

Day 143. Have found a new hobby. I will learn to swim upside down! 

Day 157. Have discovered that if I swim in funny wiggles, I am rewarded with extra Food!

Day 199. I love food!

Day 253. Bubbles!

4. A party of many

Jojo was a bit of a bitch. Everyone had to agree on it. Oh she wasn't utterly hateful, but it would have been better if she were, then at least she would have been worthy of respect. No, Jojo was only mildly worthy of disdain. Angela did not usually dislike people quite so easily but the party invites had instructed people to come with at least one bottle of wine. Jojo brought none. She had also come dressed like a hobo. No, Angela would smile and be polite, but she hoped Jojo would leave soon.

Jack was enjoying this party. He enjoyed it so much more now that Ms May was here. Perhaps she would dance with him tonight. Jack had had a crush on her since he met her. She was so refined, with a lovely smile that made his knees weak. He loved her long wavy hair, her beautiful kind eyes and her hands. He loved the jokes she told, the way she made people laugh. Jack watched Ms May go around the room. Maybe he would pluck up the courage to talk to her tonight, though he would have to do it quickly. Mik was sure to make his move on her, that hound dog made a move on anything that moved. Jack took another swig. Soon.

The music was dull. The food mediocre. Ga In was bored. There were so many strangers. She knew Angela and Jack and a few others, but Angela was a social butterfly. Always so many friends. Why had she come? Because of Soo Jin who was at this moment sampling the table of food. Ga In didn't like parties like this. "Lets go," she whispered to Soo Jin when she came with a paper cup of cheap wine.
"we can't leave yet. It would be rude. Angela would be gutted if we left before they cut the cake," hissed Soo Jin quietly. Then she handed Ga In her paper cup. "dont worry, it should be soon. Angela loves cake." Soo Jin rolled her eyes and made a face. Ga In laughed. Soo Jin was normally quiet but sometimes she would do something funny and outrageous. Ga In liked her, but she was also wary. Soo Jin could be moody and short tempered. That's why she came, Soo Jin was scared to come alone, so she made Ga In come with her. Ga In had to come, to support Soo Jin.

The cake was the highlight of the evening, or at least it was supposed to be. Then the presents starting coming out of bags. Nicky panicked. She sort of assumed presents were not required. Nicky hardly knew Angela, she was rather broke at the moment, working part time wasn't paying well AND they were not 14 anymore. Surely Presents weren't required. Unfortunately, Nicky was worried and she told Phina who was sitting next to her.
"Don't worry. I got your back. I'll say we got our present together."
"you sure? i'll pay you for half of it," whispered Nicky.
"Nah, dont worry about it, quick sign the card." Phina handed over a brightly coloured card and a pen as Angela was busy opening another present, gushing loudly over how much she loved it. Phina waited till last and then said "this is from Me and Nicky." Nicky was very grateful. She was new in town and so unsure but Phina was so helpful. Phina was outgoing and generous.Nicky wished she could be more like her.

Jarrod laughed as he walked. He liked Angela, superficial and vain as she was but her parties could be boring. At least now they were finally heading out to the pubs. He might even pick up someone. He had had his eye on Jack all night. Such a cute boy. Pity he was straight. So was Mik the other hot man. No matter, he might pick up tonight. He saw Eliza walking ahead and cought up with her. "eliza," he purred into her ear. "been looking everywhere for you."
"eliza smiled icily, "you know i dont like that name." Jarrod winked at her. "you gonna pick up tonight?" she asked.
"of course honey, what else do I have to do. You should to," he said, "that Mik's had his eye on you all night."
"that player? please..." Eliza was feigning disinterest. Jarrod saw right through it. That was the problem with Eliza. she couldn't hide anything. She wore her heart on her sleeve and couldn't lie. That's probably why he hung out with her so much. He could trust her not to keep anything from him. Mik didn't deserve her, but she could also use a good shagging and he told her. Eliza answered with her most evil look. It was excessively cute.

Mik watched his prey. She danced under the pretty light. He'd been waiting to make his move just until the right moment. It was now. Just enough alcohol had been drunk so she would be fairly pliable but not too much to make the night a failure. Mik sidled into the dance floor and began to dance up to her. If he could get her tonight, it would be a good night. He knew why Angela had invited him, but pity, Angela was not his type. far too thin and bitchy. He liked his girls more soft and sweet. Just like what he had in his arms right now. He smiled as she melted against him. Yep, This one was in the bag. What was her name again? Beth or something similar.

Morning light streamed through the curtains waking up the girl in the bed. She got up slowly with a grimace. the figure beside her grunted and just shifted his face away. The Girl went into the toilet and washed her face and rinsed out her mouth. She looked at the mirror, saw a pale face with dark shadows under the eyes stare back. Who was this girl that was yet again in some guy's bed. Some guy she barely knew. Who was this girl who's face looked haunted. Oh god, she'd have to go home in the same clothes. Again. Walk of shame. Again. She looked down at her naked body. Not as thin as she'd like. Nowhere near as pretty. Made so much uglier by the thin scars on belly and legs. Scars in places that would not be noticable. Few boys noticed until the next morning which was why she made it a habit to wake before they did. Before they could see in the light of day. This way, they wouldn't know that they had just fucked a mental chick.

She looked back in the mirror. Who was this girl? She was a slut. A mentally unstable slut with huge issues. She was a slut who pretended to enjoy parties, who drank not because it was fun but because it helped her forget. She was a girl who dressed in baggy clothes to hide herself and told jokes to distract everyone. Her Father called her Josephina Elizabeth May. Her mother called her Soo Jin May. She called herself messed up May. Her friends all called her different names, Mik had called her babydoll last night.Yeuch.

Who was she? She wasn't sure. She doubted if anyone knew.

3. The man who lost his penis

Norman was a very normal middle aged man. Entirely predictable with a rumbling paunch, hunched hairy shoulders and feet that let off hefty fetid fumes whenever he removed his socks. Norman lived alone in an apartment that desperately needed the attentions of a gay man with genius level interior design skills. It could also have defeated an obsessive compulsive cleaner.

Norman worked as a truck driver, delivering Ice-cream of particular quality. It was far too sweet with hardly enough real cream in it, but Norman didn't mind. He never ate any of it anyways.

As a truck driver, Norman Prized his truck and always keep it in good working condition, well oiled and as clean as he felt was masculine. He liked to go for drinks after work with several other truck drivers, sharing daily tribulations and victories over pints of cheap beer. He was not usually a heavy drinker.

On his birthday however, he decided he had earned a night out on the town. What was 45 years of life on earth worth if he couldn't risk his liver now and then. Cheap, uninspiring beer was guzzled down aplenty. Off key songs were sung with piercing gusto with his mates and Norman retired to his apartment a little closer to the morning then usual, barely making it to his bed before conciousness abandoned him.

The next morning heralded with cottony vile tasting mouth and an unpleasent sensation above his head, similar to the feeling one might have if a leper gnome had taken up residence in one's skull and was merrily throwing explosives around.

Norman got up painfully. He brushed out the vile dryness in his mouth. He blearly whiffed his hairy armpits and realised only a long hot shower might help. He threw down his clothes, wondering whose vomit stained his knee and turned on the faucet. He enjoyed the feeling of clean hot water slushing away the previous days grime. He look down leisurely and felt something strange. Something was missing.

Norman was a sensible man. What he was witnessing was impossible. There had to be a logical explanation. He was angling himself in a funny way. He just couldn't see around his unhealthy belly. He was still drunk.But careful investigations with his eyes and hands and his most strained contortions still didn't reveal his mose prized possession. It was a definite fact. His penis was missing! So were his family jewels!

In an utter panic, Normal threw on his clothes and ran down to the street. He cursed at the taxis that rushed past and made obscene gestures. When one mercifully stopped, Norman frenziedly directed it towards the hospital. He screeched insanely when traffic blocked his cab just a block away from the hospital and feeling reckless, he ran the rest of the way.

Not being a man who did any exercise normally, when Norman reached the ER, his red face, bulging eyes, gasping lungs and general mien of being at death's door convinced the doctors of the seriousness of his condition. He was swiftly taken in to see a doctor and his nurse.

"What is the problem?" asked a lean young looking man and the nurse took his pulse and blood pressure.

"I've lost my penis!" Norman gasped. The doctor asked for him to repeat.  "I'VE LOST MY PENIS!" he yelled. For a full minute, the doctor and pretty nurse looked over him with wide eyes.

"I see," said the doctor. "please wait here a moment," he said before leaving.

Norman was feeling quite frustrated until a team of men in white appeared and suddenly Norman was escorted rather ungracefully, he was busy struggling and shouting, to a ward clearly filled with crazy people. He was also unceremoniosly sedated.

It was two days before Norman got to see another doctor. He was quite calm at this point. Sedatives were becoming his new best friend.

"So, what brings you here?" asked a friendly older lady in ugly glasses and frizzy hair. There was a sign on her desk, probably her name but Norman couldn't read it. He calmly repeated what he had told his previous doctor. "I see, and where exactly did you loose it?" she asked.

"I dont know" said Norman, "That's why i'm so worried."

The frizzy haired doctor seemed to think carefully for awhile then carefully said, "Is it possible you never had one to begin with?"

Norman thought this was preposterous, "I am a man!" he stated, "I must have a penis!"

"That is very true," she said slowly. "A man probably would have a penis." Doctor frizzy adjusted her spectacles, "however, are you sure you are a man?"

Norman was outraged. "How dare you question my masculinity? I would know who and what I am wouldn't I?!"

"It is possible to sometimes get confused," said Doctor frizzy. "It's quite common during times of stress. Sometimes one needs to take a moment to take some stock of the situation. You might like to try it."

Norman's outrage hadn't abated, but now curiosity rose it's perky head. It was true he hadn't really considered himself in awhile. In fact, now that he reflected on it, he hadn't seen his penis in awhile. couldn't remember when to be perfectly frank. Still, "I know I am a man," he said with just a tad of uncertainty. "I shave every morning."

"So do some women," said Doctor frizzy.

"I have a very hairy chest... and back!" insisted Norman. Doctor frizzy inclined her head and repeated her previous phrase. "I drive a truck. I like to watch football.... and I have no interest in dresses." Doctor frizzy at this point only stared back knowingly. Norman began to feel uncomfortable. His last point wasn't true. "Well, ok I do like to wear dresses... but only in private!"

"Why would you want to hide a part of yourself?"

"Because... because... men dont wear dresses." Norman looking down at his hospital issued pajamas's. The knees were faded down and his hands lay on top. Now as he considered them, it was quite apparent that his hands were quite... feminine. under the loose buttons, his chest wasn't that hairy after all and perhaps he didn't really have moobs...

"What if you are not a man?"

Norman considered it. "But how could I be a woman?"

"Perhaps you dont want to be?" Doctor frizzy now smiled sympathetically.

"Why not?"

"You will have to tell me, I couldn't possibly tell you," said Doctor Frizzy taking off her glasses to clean them.

"Well, perhaps it's because... I would be a very ugly woman and ... well... I've never been interested in men and... to do the things I want to do, I have to be a man.

"What if you could be quite an attractive woman who is also interested in women and likes to do the things you do?" offered Doctor frizzy calmly.

Norman thought about it. It was quite hard and he was sure his brain was overheating just a little. It was all because of those silly sedatives. "Well, if that were true..." he began, "then perhaps... It's ok that I lost my penis."

"Perhaps you never needed it anyways," said Doctor frizzy.

"Without it, I couldn't say I was a man, could I?" offered Norman. An affirmative no was delivered back. "I suppose I'll have to change some things. I can't call myself Norman."

"Try Norma."

Norman considered it. Yes, Norma was quite fine, and at least now, he... well she.. .could wear that pretty yellow and blue dress she'd bought a year ago. Well wear it outside at least. "Thank you Doctor frizzy!" She said standing up to shake the doctor's hand.

"That's not my name," said the doctor with a smile, "But we can talk about that in our next session," she said shaking Norma's hand.

2. Thea's True Love

Dorothea Smith, known to most of her friends as Thea was an only child of divorced parents. Brown haired and relatively slim, she liked to bemoan how plain she was while harboring the secret fantasy that she was in fact a ravishing beauty hidden behind nondescript clothes and unimpressive hairstyles.

She had been above average in school but had no real ambition. She did not keep up with current affairs, had little interest in politics or the arts. She did not particularly like to read but thought herself literary as she had read the Twilight series a grand total of fifty times. They were her particular favourite.

She liked to fantasize about glittering vampires but she felt she was sensible enough to keep her more common fantasies to the idea that she might meet a handsome, rich man who would adore her. Just like Edward Cullen adored Bella.

So enamored was she with her ideal fantasy man that when she considered a potential mate, she discarded him quickly if he did not match her ideal of Edward Cullenish. She of course was saving herself for marriage. The day she finally gave up her virginity, it had to be perfect.

She met many men who disapointed her. She began to despair that she might ever find her Edward. She had a horrifying vision of herself single, alone and old! It was a terrifying vision that left in cold sweat so it was a wonderful day that she met Evan.

Evan worked in some sort of finance field, Thea didn't really care what exactly, so he was quite rich and he was also handsome. Brown hair and blue eyes and a body that was just to die for! He was also quite the gentleman, pulling out chairs and bringing her flowers. He did have a rather cold smile, strange habit of smelling her hair and could be distracted during their dates, busy on his phone, but he was everything she ever dreamed of so it wasn't long before they were engaged.

Thea had of course made it quite clear that she was a lady and would not engage in anything indecent before the marriage and Evan had been... mostly understanding. Course Thea was finding it hard to wait and so when after a night out with Evan when he pressed her a little more bluntly and insistently then usual, Thea gave in. Engaged was almost married, she surmised so it was still alright.

The night was wonderful, if she did say so herself and the nights after just as good. She was absolutely sure that the wedding and honeymoon would be even better. This had to be true love. She was sure of it.

The wedding was a dream. Her father grumbled about the money being spent and perhaps there was one insident involving punch  and the best man but otherwise everything was lovely. Evan even read out the speech she had written for him with a smile, though it was a pretty frigid smile. However, the honeymoon had to be cut short, Evan was so busy with his work. Still it was a consolation that Evan had an apartment right in the city overlooking the park. This was real estate worth dying for.

And die she did. Evan liked warm home cooked meals and he also had a temper. Thea often struggled to have a meal ready and warm. One night, having waited hours, Evan called saying he was in a cab on his way. She rushed to put the chicken pie she baked back in the oven to warm up when there was a very loud, very bright explosion.

By the time the white light and ringing in her ears faded, Thea found herself back in her apartment except it was daytime and the house was filled with people wearing black. Conversations talked of the gas explosion. a faulty oven. Evan was in the centre with many words of condolences floating around him. It only took Thea a few minutes to realise she was floating and that no one could see her to surmise that she was very much a ghost. This was not in her life plan and her tantrum would have been fearsome had anyone been able to see it.

Over the coming months Thea stayed close to the apartment. partially because she felt that true love like what she had with Evan could not be abandoned but mostly because she found she couldn't go far. at least no outside the building, though she could explore the other apartments.

Thea longed to hold Evan, to touch him and kiss him. She had rather naughty thoughts involving what they had done together in bed, and she would linger on the sheet reminiscing. There was just one problem with staying in the apartment. Evan was hardly in it. Understandably, she thought, he was too distraught to stay. 

utterly bored, she began to spy on other tenents. there were old people, some strange people abd some people with children. the ones she became interested in the most was couples. one couple lived in a messy house and liked to play computer games with each other as much as they could. another watched movies together and took walks in the park. Another was a gay couple, something she felt was wrong but it warmed her heart to see them cooking and cleaning together. there was a couple with a small child, tired and frazzled and yet still taking the time to hold and kiss each other.

There was one other couple who seemed to do nothing but.. well... have sex. Thea floated above watching with wonder. Thea had thought she knew wonderful sex, but now... well she began to wonder. Evan never lasted anywhere near as long and now, she wondered if he might have been a little selfish, or perhaps very selfish. Thea had never imagined that sex could be so varied and interesting and especially never wondered what it should be like for her. she had only ever thought of it in terms of "magical" without knowing what that meant. till now.

IT wasn't just the sex that started to make her feel disgruntled. Evan was not sweet or kind. he had never washed the dishes or helped with little chores. He had never surprised her with kisses or hugs, just the occasional look to demand sex. He had stopped buying flowers for her the moment they had married.

Sick of watching the writhing passionate sessions, the tender sweet touches, respectful considerations and just the wealth of little loves from the other tenants, Thea floated back to her apartment. Perhaps when she saw Evan again, she would remember why she loved him so much.

She waited hours in the apartment alone until Evan finally came back. With another woman. Thea watched him lead her to the living room. She carried a bouquet of roses. Thea watched Evan pour her wine. He plied her with extravagant compliments and when his date became quite pliable and giggly, he led her to the bed, undressed her a little hurriedly and had the most passionless and mundane sex that Thea had seen so far. It was pretty familiar except Thea was not the one under him convinced that lackluster lovemaking was somehow extraordinary.

Evan fell asleep snoring and Thea fumed. What on earth had she died for? What had her life been about? Was this it? really? A life that revolved around a fantasy that did nothing but limit what she saw and how she saw it. It was only know that she realised how many shades of love there was and she had seen.. not even one.

She had wasted her life, she would be damned if she wasted her death. Thea smiled at the prostrate figure of Evan lying besides the rumpled figure of the drunk girl who's taut expression spoke volumes of her unspent frustrations. Thea went to the table and with an agnry swipe knocked a vase noisly to the ground.

Evan woke with a start, though his drunk date slept on. The look on his face was priceless. Thea smiled as she contemplated the second of many poltergeist hauntings she would have fun with.

1. Bubble People

There are some people for whom, the sun does no shine. Our personal Stellar orb with all its fiery brilliance can usually trusted to illuminate and warm quite most things, specially during the day. however there are some that appear to be walking and living quite normally out in the open air almost completely indistinguishable from others. They seem to sweat under the heat, lather sun screen on, wear bright colours to pay homage to the sun's light and even smile as normal as can be. They seem to be in the world and most people are unaware that for them, the world around them is on another dimension.

For some people, they live and breath under a strangely invisible and all too powerful bubble. This bubble serves no other purpose then to block the most wonderful and brilliant of things the world has to offer. It is not that the people cannot see what fancies lie beyond the bubble. They may see, hear or even feel such wonders but is behind a thick numbing shield that dampens and defeats the senses. Like a giant, thicker then reasonable condom for the mind. The difference would be between hearing about cool swimming pool on a hot day and actually swimming in one or seeing a picture of a delicious cake as apposed to eating one.

There are many people who live in such conditions. One such person was a normal looking, if slightly overweight, girl called Moira. Unique circumstances may have created a rather thick wall of her bubble but there had been times when her bubble's exterior had popped long enough for her to know what happiness and joy felt like, looked like and even tasted like. This usually only served to highlight the truly despairing dullness within the bubble but Moira was not one to sit back and accept the inevitable. 

Having tried most other means to break through the bubble, to escape perhaps even destroy the boundaries that kept the world so distantly away from her, she finally decided one day that brute force did not work. She could not break the walls of her metaphorical prison, nor could she run away the farthest distance never being enough, nor could she try to bring the outside world into hers as few were brave enough to linger within the gaping, miserable cold. So Moira came up with a completely new solution. If she could not go out to experiance the wonder and beauty of the world, or make the world come to her, she would create her own world.

To do this, she allowed herself to dream and worked hard not to dream of empty cold plains, or dark dreary settings but strained to imagine colours and music. She pictured sunsets and brilliant starry skies. She imagined warm fires and furs and wonderful music and sounds. To help herself dream, she began to write. She wrote about unicorns and princesses, of kings and emperors. She wrote about magic and mysteries.

It seemed a small solace at first until one day while tiring of the strain to enjoy some real world wonder that she could barely feel, She withdrew back into her bubble and found to her wonder that there lay an entire universe within. A universe she had created with what little was available to her. This universe was far superior in some ways as she was in complete control of it. In her world were creatures never seen, architectures never built, cultures never studied.

Moira began to feel slightly sad. Not the bitter sadness she felt living in her bubble, but a compassionate sadness that others would never know this world. She assumed that others may have created their own universes within their bubbles and she wondered why it was not possible to share these worlds. How many vast worlds were created and then faded away having never been seen except by one. It hardly seemed fair.

Then one day, Moira understood why she had written down some stories from her universe. Here was her world condensed into what seemed like dry little symbols that would leap out once one started to read them. And Moira was not the only one would could read. She began to share her scribbles. They were not perfect, nothing was, but they could convey at least to some extent what had been exclusively hers and as more people began to share in her strange creations, something wonderful happened. The walls of her bubble thinned and faded away. Moira had succeeded in inviting the world in and as she moved to greet those who ventured in, she found herself leaving her bubble. It took no effort, no strain. It hardly hurt.

When the euphoria faded and the people tiring left, the bubble started to return but Moira was not afraid or worried. She had found her secret weapon. All she needed to do was to keep creating wonders and write them down to share them. There was no empty cold despair that was so vast that it could not be filled by imagination.