“So… exactly how many high school fantasies are we fulfilling right now?” Paul asks as I tune my bass guitar, and I can’t help but smirk as I can already guess how the impending argument will go.

“Bit inappropriate to ask about MY high school fantasies, but I’ll let it slide,” Stuart replies, and I sense my opportunity to chip in.

“If it helps, Paul, I’m wondering the same thing,” I say, chuckling at the mock-offended look on my mentor’s face.

“…Okay, yes, every music student dreams of playing in a garage band in an actual garage,” Stuart concedes.

“Some members of the family, maybe, might be sad to see me go. But the family as a unit? As some sort of community?” I shook my head. “It’s like I’ve knocked over a beehive or something.”

Her dark eyes were thoughtful, weighing my words. “Maybe it needed to be knocked over.”

I was working in one of the Florida theme parks, not the big D world but still one that attracted a lot of tourists. The concept was mainly centered on water skiing and fast boats. For some of the other tourists we had beautiful gardens, with acres of flowers on display at all times, spread among some natural Florida landscape.

The attraction that held the most interest for me was the Southern Belles, attired in their gorgeous dresses a pleasant sight for tourist or visitor as they walked through the gardens. Of course, especially for this particular park employee.

I would like to share one of the rabbit holes my mind goes down:

See, I was watching this documentary on the formation of the moon, and for some reason I started thinking "what if we had ended up with 2 moons, instead of 1?"

Now there is a bunch of physics that would be in play in this situation, but since I don't understand it, I am going to skip it, and just talk about the effect on humans (assuming we evolved on this alternate Earth).

Chapter 11

When the Roses walked home, they all felt that they had done well. Willow was happy at how her singing group were improving, Wendy was happy at the result of her work with what Ashley called a ‘nesting’ program, and Ashley with the thought that they would be able to cater for more in the club.

A Hillbilly Funeral 
by
Rebecca Anna Coleman
Part Three of Three

I found my uncle stumbling around the small bathroom of the church. He was drunk as a jude, and the moment he spotted me out of the corner of his beady eyes he stumbled toward me. His eyes were glazed over and his breath reeked of cheap, corn whiskey. When he was mere inches from me, he reached out and placed both of his hands upon my shoulder. 

I left Earth in 2437, and it has been a long time, but I have no idea how long. Tens of thousands of the days here, but I don’t know how long the days are. However long ago that was, I arrived as a blob of slime.

Jo comes up with a solution to Ashley's missing suitcase, which leads to an unexpected outcome.

The cafeteria was buzzing with sound, as usual. Clanking metal flatware and clacking plastic trays mixed with the hum of conversation and the frequent echoes of laughter. Jeremy Joad, sitting all alone at the broken table in the far corner, didn’t hear any of it. His cheap earbuds blasting heavy metal music from his ten-year-old Android phone drowned out the world. He picked at his bland meal, hoping to survive another day.

The first email I received was a shock. It was addressed to Christy. I looked at what email account I had signed on to, then took a deep breath. Someone knew about Christy and had sent an email to my male email account.

Christy,
Don’t you just love the new spring fashions? The sundresses are to just die for! Hope to see you in one soon.

I re-read it five times, trying to believe that it was just a mistake. Someone getting the wrong email address… yeah, that was what had happened. I quickly deleted it and made sure my cache was empty.