《Twilit Tales》


 It Wasnt a Girl

    On the TV, some fuckface--not me--had won the goddamn, motherfucking lottery. I watched his young, uncalloused hands holding that little paper stub that was his ticket to never working another day in his life. No way did he deserve even a penny of it.


    I curled my fist and my lips spit the words out, like venom from a cobra''s mouth. "I''d kill to have that kind of money. I swear, I''d fucking kill someone."


    "Now, hold on there, friend," came a softly amused voice, just out of sight. "You sound like you might really mean that."


    I turned my head to the side, unsure of what I''d see when my eyes got there. A strange man sat there in the armchair to my left. He was all in shadow, except for a band across his bright, rust colored eyes.


    I turned back to the TV, feeling a thrill of fear--and excitement. "...Maybe I do. I''m just so tired of seeing assholes luck into ten times more money than I''ve ever made in my whole life. When''s my turn?" I turned back to the man.


    "Right now, if you''d like." His tone was light, but he was watching me closely.


    "Get the fuck out of here. I''m no murderer."


    "No. But I am. And it''s easier than you think."


    I looked away and caught the stupid rich kid shaking someone''s hand on TV, flushed with unearned happiness. I hesitated only a moment before speaking again.


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    "How easy?"


    "Instantaneous. No pain. And it''s no one you''ve even met."


    One thought gave me pause. "It wouldn''t be a girl, right? I couldn''t let a girl--"


    "No. It''s not a girl."


    I found myself nodding. "I could see myself agreeing to that... Okay. But I want double what this fucker got, okay?" I could have sworn I''d heard a laugh of agreement. But when I turned back, he was gone.


    The envelope came two days later, and I opened it in the same chair the man had sat in that night. My own little ticket was inside. The lottery in my state boasted a record breaking jackpot right now--more than I''d asked for--and soon it would be mine.


    Then the door slammed. I looked up to see my wife stumble in, holding her stomach. Her face was stoic, but when she saw me, it crumpled. She slid to the floor, weeping as if her heart would break.


    I was there in a flash. "Oh God, what''s wrong? Is the baby--"


    She shook her head. "He''s gone. No heartbeat. I don''t know what happened, he was so healthy every other time, but--" Her voice was lost in sobs.


    I hugged her numbly, feeling my world come crashing down, one thought leaping to the front of my mind. "He?" I said. "He? I thought they told us last time it was a girl?"


    "No," she said. "It wasn''t a girl."

 God Willing

    They met by chance on a morning walk when the air was crisp and cold.


    "Millie! Oh my goodness, it''s so good to see you!"


    "Hello Ruby, it''s nice to see you, too."


    "I''ve been so worried about you since I heard about Jasper. How have you been holding up?"


    "Oh... it hasn''t been easy... but I''m getting by. I just keep reminding myself it''s good that God took him when He did. He wasn''t sick, but after all, he was getting so old."


    "Old? But Millie... he was the same age as you, right?"


    "Yes, but... Well, God willing, I still have some years left in me."


    "Yes, God willing. Live your life by God''s commands and you''ll be all right."


    "That''s what I keep telling myself."


    "And how is the new little one settling in?"


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    "He''s... he''s really a handful. He''s cute, but he''s so noisy and busy all the time. God smiles upon him though, and he has his health and his charm."


    "Yes, God is so good to little ones. I do pray He doesn''t forget to smile upon you, too, though. I mean, Jasper was only, what? Middle aged?"


    "Barely. And as I get older, I fear... I fear God''s grace will slip from me, too... And then, maybe God will want to take me, too..."


    "Hush, Millie! You mustn''t talk like that! God loves you!"


    "I think He does. But I thought He loved Jasper, too, yet here we are."


    "Oh Millie."


    "It''s been nice to see you, Ruby. Keep looking for me on these walks. God doesn''t take me out as much as He used to."


    "I will, Millie. Good luck."


    And with that, the two dogs continued taking their walks with their owners.

 In Compliance

    SaveMart 2141 was closed. Like greater than 95% of similar grocery stores, SaveMart 2141 had been closed for 1,321 days. Like 100% of similar grocery stores, SaveMart 2141 was staffed exclusively by robots.


    Required regulations stated 50% of robot staff must have human recognition software, and SaveMart 2141 was in compliance with these regulations. StockBot2, the bearer of such software, paused in its work when it detected the frenzied, erratic sound of something pounding on the door. It rolled out from behind the silent, darkened aisles and its cameras registered two moving shapes. StockBot2 did not register the shabbiness of the clothes, the different sizes of the two shapes (tall and very short), nor did it bother to compare their incredible thinness to the round and padded human customers it had stocked among only three years ago. It simply registered that they were humans.


    "Customers," StockBot2 reported. It conveyed this information electronically, and made no sound. "Customers at door."


    Required regulations stated 50% of robot staff must have managerial software giving them the ability to make executive decisions, and SaveMart 2141 was in compliance with these regulations. StockBot1, the bearer of such software, paused in its work at StockBot2''s report. StockBot1 checked this new knowledge against its knowledge of store protocol.


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    "Incorrect," StockBot1 responded. "We are closed. They are not customers."


    "Non-customer humans at door," StockBot2 corrected himself, and returned to work.


    Moments later, both robots paused again in their work at the sound of a crash. StockBot2 rolled out and surveyed the door again. The tall human had thrown a non-store object against the glass doors. The glass was unaffected. The tall human had picked up the non-store object again.


    "Humans disobeying store protocol at door," StockBot2 noted, updating his assessment.


    StockBot1 heard this second piece of information and considered his managerial software. It weighed what it had learned against what it was programmed to do. It was dealing with humans who were not customers, and these humans were disobeying store protocol. StockBot1 made an executive decision, the third in his 762 days.


    "They are trespassing." StockBot1 decided. "Security systems alerted. Return to work."


    StockBots 1 and 2 returned to work. They did not pause in their work at the sound of the security systems, nor did they record any of the sounds they heard from SecurityBots 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, or 8, nor did they record any of the sounds they heard from the trespassers. StockBot2 checked once to see if the glass was unaffected, which it was.


    Soon there was no more noise, and StockBots 1 and 2 completed their work, returned to their charging receptacles, and slept.

 You Get What You Pay For

    "Yeah, you like this, baby?" she whispers as she pulls her thin t-shirt over her head, arching her back to keep her breasts well in view of the webcam perched atop her monitor. Light slants in through the closed curtains in her room. It''s a messy room, a college girl''s room, rundown and half bare. She probably needs the money. I just need to watch.


    "Yeah, yeah..." I coo back in my dark room, fumbling with the zipper on my pants. Diana is my favorite. Look at her cute, flat stomach, still with the belly ring she probably got in high school. So young. Her small white breasts almost glow in the light coming from her wide-open window.


    Wait, wide-open? When did...?


    My mouth drops as a man dressed in black swings a fist into Diana''s face, sending her sprawling with a cry. She hits the ground with a thump so hard I almost feel it. Wait... did I feel that?


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    The man picks her before I can blink, and swings her into a wall facefirst. Dark drops hit her keyboard, but that''s not what I''m looking at. I''m looking at the picture frame that just jumped off the wall of my apartment. The wall that I share with a neighbor I''ve never met.


    The man is ripping her clothes off and I hear her crying¡ªcrying from my webcam... and through the wall. Every thump as the man drags her to the bed reaches my ears twice.


    Oh God. Diana is my neighbor. She lives right next door--and I can save her from this, from being raped, from being murdered!


    Or I can watch.

 Stop Sign

    Brian Mayhew never saw it coming.


    When the rusty red truck blew a stop sign right in front of his motorcycle, he had seconds to stop--seconds that were robbed from him by the ice beginning to glaze over the road as night really got going. The collision shattered the quiet of the empty road, shattered the truck''s front headlight, and shattered Brian''s helmet as he flipped over the bike''s front end and struck the slick, freezing asphalt.


    The truck stopped with a screech, and Brian rolled dizzily to his feet. He grabbed his head, his body, his legs--and was astonished to realize he was unhurt.


    A man jumped out of the truck, hollering. "Oh God, no! No!! Are you okay?"


    Brian stared down at himself, barely believing it. "I''m... I''m fine."


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    "Holy Christ," the man said. "You are so... you are so lucky!"


    "I know," Brian gasped. He looked at his motorcycle. It had been crushed under the truck''s heavy front wheels. A total loss.


    "I can''t believe you survived that! Jesus! You must be the luckiest guy on the planet! Nice lawyer job, sweet wife, little baby girl--Christ, even your house--God, I could puke it''s all so perfect!"


    Brian looked up at the man for the first time. His breath caught in his throat.


    "I''m sorry for hitting you," said the man who looked like Brian''s exact twin. He pulled out a pistol. "But I''m mostly sorry you lived."


    Brian''s mouth was so dry, he could hardly speak. "Who are you?"


    The man smiled sadly. "Well, now... I''m Brian Mayhew."

 Some Kind of Miracle

    Thank God she''s finally asleep.


    They warned me that I''d lose sleep, that babies cry a lot when they''re little, and I thought I was prepared... but I never expected this.


    Getting jolted awake every ten minutes at night by those shrill shrieks--heart pounding, thinking every time she''s being stabbed, strangled, eaten by wolves--no one could make those heart stopping screams unless they were dying! But every time she''s okay. My husband tells me it''s normal, but what does he know? He''s been out of town for two weeks so far, and it''s been just me and her, me and her...


    It felt sometimes like me versus her--and she was winning. I was shaking, dropping things, ready to drop dead from tiredness, but still she kept wailing, crying, keening like a lamb being slaughtered, while I tried to hold myself together but all really I wanted to do was grab her and shake her and scream SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!!


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    But now... Oh, thank God she''s asleep. She''s never slept this well before, and I''m sleeping well too, and I think I can feel my sanity coming back. I can hardly believe my luck.


    I keep tiptoeing around the house so I don''t wake her up. I don''t even dare go into her nursery.


    She''s been asleep for three days straight so far and it''s like some kind of miracle.