Chapter 12

Sunday morning, they were up and ready for church. Willow showed her parents the pathway across the field, and it was a pleasant stroll in the morning sun. At the church, they saw Maisie and Gina arriving, so the girls left the adults to talk and went up to prepare the organ for the morning service. Willow asked if Gina wanted to play the arrival music, and she sat at the keyboard and started doodling Bach and Beethoven piano pieces.

The world was crumbling around Ethan, piece by piece.

Three days had passed since Jordan's machine had transformed her, and the aftermath was unfolding in ways she couldn't have imagined. What had started as a desperate attempt to hide from her parents while Jordan tried to fix his mistake had evolved into something far worse.

Ethan sat alone at a corner table in Crystal Hall, pushing her food around her plate without much enthusiasm. The massive geodesic dome cafeteria buzzed with lunchtime activity, students of all descriptions moving between the various food stations and tables. Sunlight streamed through the transparent panels, illuminating the central fountain and tropical arboretum that gave the space its distinctive character.

The bedroom door slammed with such force that the framed diploma on the wall tilted sideways. Ethan didn't bother to fix it. She collapsed onto her bed, staring at the ceiling she'd gazed at for the past seventeen years of her life. The same ceiling, the same room, but everything else had changed.

©2025 SammyC

Chapter 10

On Sunday morning, the Rose family were at the church as the bells started their peal. Today, because it wasn’t a special occasion, the Reverend Russell was wearing a grey suit and his clerical collar. He welcomed them when they arrived.

“Good morning, good people. A little bird told me that my organist was tickling the ivories in a den of iniquity last night. One of my wardens rang me from the club to let me hear some of the festivities. It sounded like a good time. Are you ready for today, Willow?”

The Carnival of Time
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman
A Legend of Zelda Fanfiction
I am not claiming ownership of the Legend of Zelda

I could not believe the reflection that greeted me in the mirror. The smooth glass surface reflected the image of a young woman, one with golden blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes. This young woman wore a powder blue dress that had a rose colored silken sash tied around the waist. And on her dainty feet were leather sandals that had thin strips of leather wrapping around her ankles.

"You look fabulous," Teresa said, parting Taylor's hair down the middle and combing it down the sides. Teresa must have seen skeptical disbelief in Taylor's face, because she continued, "Absolutely. Hold still just a moment, while I touch up your eye-liner. There. You'll be the darling of the Ball."

The September sun beat down on Ethan's back as he lounged in Jordan's backyard, a half-empty can of soda warming beside him. It was one of those lazy weekend afternoons where time seemed to stretch endlessly, a welcome break from the first few weeks of their senior year that had already proven to be more demanding than expected.

Chapter 9

On the way home she told her mother about her day, telling her that she had played enough hymns to fill a church. She gave herself a break from her room after dinner, going outside and walking from the house to the end of the road and back until the light was fading. It felt good to move after being sat at the keyboard all day.

There was a scream from one of the girls as two doors slammed shut and the car roared to life. Hank reversed out of the garage at full speed that I thought the car would jump the curb and drive into the park. The car lurched forward and then drove up Driftwood Ave to one of three exits out of the neighborhood.

I was ostracized for most of my junior year in high school.

It was all my sister’s fault. Well, perhaps not all of it but if she hadn’t forced me to save her bacon, twice, all this would never have happened, so I blame her, and only her for what happened.

This story was inspired by Emma Anne Tate’s story Gullible Travails posted in February. At the time I mentioned that I could twist it and mangle it ,,,, (I also might have mentioned stomping but that was silly).

Chapter 8

Willow told her mother about her day on the way home, then allowed Wendy to tell her how her day at work was. They arrived home before Ashley and started preparing dinner together after they had changed. Willow was finding soothing to be preparing vegetables and learning how to cook, something that most girls go through well before they reach their teens.

Chapter 7

Ashley looked at the picture and then had to put his hand on the nearest support.

“That’s the picture. Why have you got it?”

“Before you start hyperventilating, let’s sit in down and I’ll tell you who he is.”

They went and sat in a pew and Rupert laid out the family history, as he knew it.

Celeste Rawlins pulled her jacket tighter against the evening chill, grateful she'd thought to bring an extra layer. October nights in Millridge were unpredictable—sometimes clinging to late summer warmth, other times plunging into winter's preview. Tonight was definitely leaning toward the latter.

The Millridge College campus was bathed in the gentle glow of autumn sunshine, golden light filtering through the maple trees that lined the quad. Traci Walholme checked her watch for the third time in ten minutes, her foot tapping an impatient rhythm against the weathered brick pathway. Celeste was late, which wasn't like her at all.

The Carnival of Time
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman
A Legend of Zelda Fanfiction
I am not claiming ownership of the Legend of Zelda

The sun had finally set over the hills that surrounded the ranch. The cows had been brought in from pasture and were now locked safety in their barn. The moon was hidden behind a bank of dark storm clouds and one could feel rain in the wind that was blowing across the fields. Mom had a worried looked as she looked toward the direction of town. It was like she was doubting the wisdom of making a late night milk run.