"dinner with your family?? like me you and your parents"

I read the text that had just arrived from Murphy. I was still riding the high of what had just happened. I had made a plan and executed it to perfection.

And as much as I hated to admit it, that was very much unlike me. See I never really made plans. I didn't think things through. I certainly never had backup plans for my backup plans like I'd just done.

"And Lucas. Are you busy? I can just tell my dad that you're busy" I texted back careful not to deviate too much from how she typed in previous messages.

Why did I know that? Don't panic. I had to figure this out. I had never been the same person twice and certainly not two days in a row.

My mind darted to her locker code. 14,22,7. I didn't just remember it from yesterday, I remembered it from the start of the school year.

My mind darted from one memory to another before being pulled to focus on the heavy footsteps rapidly approaching my door. A moment later, the door opened with her father peaking through. He looked worried for a moment but his expression slowly dissipated into a neutral one.

When a mountain downpour forces Lydia and Thomas Thompson into a cavern's shadowy embrace, Lydia's touch upon ancient runic inscriptions awakens her latent power and identity. As they emerge to find the enigmatic town of Sælicbrook—a nexus of realms and magic—Lydia is transformed into her destiny as its guardian. But as the cosmic entity Nyarlathotep stirs, intent on unraveling the threads of reality, will Lydia's newfound power be enough to stand against an eldritch horror bent on devouring all? The battle for existence looms, and only the guardians of Sælicbrook can safeguard the world from the impending darkness. Will they triumph, or will everything they know be consumed by the infinite appetite of the Crawling Chaos?

When a mountain downpour forces Lydia and Thomas Thompson into a cavern's shadowy embrace, Lydia's touch upon ancient runic inscriptions awakens her latent power and identity. As they emerge to find the enigmatic town of Sælicbrook—a nexus of realms and magic—Lydia is transformed into her destiny as its guardian. But as the cosmic entity Nyarlathotep stirs, intent on unraveling the threads of reality, will Lydia's newfound power be enough to stand against an eldritch horror bent on devouring all? The battle for existence looms, and only the guardians of Sælicbrook can safeguard the world from the impending darkness. Will they triumph, or will everything they know be consumed by the infinite appetite of the Crawling Chaos?

When a mountain downpour forces Lydia and Thomas Thompson into a cavern's shadowy embrace, Lydia's touch upon ancient runic inscriptions awakens her latent power and identity. As they emerge to find the enigmatic town of Sælicbrook—a nexus of realms and magic—Lydia is transformed into her destiny as its guardian. But as the cosmic entity Nyarlathotep stirs, intent on unraveling the threads of reality, will Lydia's newfound power be enough to stand against an eldritch horror bent on devouring all? The battle for existence looms, and only the guardians of Sælicbrook can safeguard the world from the impending darkness. Will they triumph, or will everything they know be consumed by the infinite appetite of the Crawling Chaos?

They’d Never Believe That in Court
by Lin Dale

Synopsis: Husband and wife, Judy and Ollie, were both barristers. Ollie had built up a good professional reputation and was under consideration to become circuit judge. His wife, Judy, had an even better reputation, incredibly energetic and rarely lost a case. But whereas he was white, middle-class and, of course, male, she was black, female and from a working-class background. No surprise, then, that whilst Ollie was likely to become circuit judge, Judy was still a junior barrister. But earlier that day, Judy’s lovely grandmother had died.

"I called Anson — or I thought I was calling Anson —
and I asked him the age-old question: Who was that lady I saw you with?
and he replied, That was no lady — that was Anson Charpont!"
Ross followed his narration with a throaty chuckle.

A racist, sexist politician learns how the other half lives after he swaps bodies with a young woman as punishment for a lifetime of wrongdoing.

"Here's the thing, Merope," Agent Kirchmeyer said.
"If we take what you said at face value, what do we have? Something about cylinders.
We don't know what these cylinders are. Frankly, they sound like rolls of money.
Which, of course, is nice for him, but not really remarkable,
if you know anything about the Switcher."

Suddenly, I felt a warm, wet tongue give a quick lick to my right ankle.
I yelped and scrambled my way out of the car, clutching the plastic bag.

"Hey, sorry about that!" said a young male voice. "I tried to stop her,
but you know... dogs..." as if the word dogs explained everything.

"A liability?" she repeated. "Is that what concerns you? That he's a liability?
Weren't you and I liabilities for each other?"

"The moment you told the processing people that you accept him as Anson Charpont,
he became for all intents and purposes, legal and otherwise, Anson Charpont. In every way!"

Kapitel 1: Das Amulett der Verwandlung

Unsere außergewöhnliche Reise begann in den geheimnisvollen Tiefen der unberührten Wälder Lateinamerikas, wo wir jenes antike Amulett fanden, das unser Leben auf unerwartete Weisen verändern sollte. Es war eine alte, perlmuttfarbene Schnitzarbeit mit eingravierten lateinischen Mantras, die mit Juwelen besetzt war. Als wir das lateinische Mantra leise murmelten, begann eine ungeahnte Macht von uns Besitz zu ergreifen.

The Witcher Series is copyright by Andrzej Sapkowski. This story is licensed under creative commons and derivative non-commercial fiction.

The trio moved through the deserted streets of Marabel with caution. Geralt's senses were heightened, his every step deliberate and calculated. His keen eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any signs of life or the lurking presence he sensed. The air hung heavy with an unsettling silence, broken only by the soft whispers of the wind.

With assistance from Merior!

His wishes granted,
By contract, reviewed and read,
For a blessed bed.

Leavening his bread,
Set the plate to gift his stead,
Fiancé unwed.

Soon he’d be jiggled,
And one who never fiddled,
Uniquely riddled.

The body rested,
Soon, divinely regifted,
Reincarnated.

And acclimated.
Two bodies respirited,
Deal, consummated!

"I don't know," she replied, undaunted. "But think about vampires:
how come some people get bit and die, and other people get bit and turn into vampires themselves?"

"I don't know the answer to that," I exclaimed, exasperated,
"but vampires aren't real!"

Authors Note: I did not realize I had not published this chapter before publishing chapter 5. I am sorry for any confusion and hope that you will enjoy this chapter.

When Matt said That's the protocol, it reminded me of something my grandfather told me
about his time in the Army: "The most important thing you can learn in the Army
is that there's a right way, a wrong way, and the Army way."

"How do you know which way is the Army way?" I asked him.

"It's in the manual," he replied.

He smiled and looked me in the eyes,
and in that moment I didn't like him any more.

He said, "It's pretty simple. There are links missing from the chain.
We don't have John Doe number one, and we don't have Anson Charpont.
All we have is you."

"And how is that a problem?" I asked, my mouth suddenly gone dry.

"I'm staying with her," Femke told him, while pointing at me.

"No, no, that isn't how it works."

"If that isn't how it works," she replied, "I don't think you can say it's working."

"I get the picture: The processing center looks at my old world and my new world and asks each one if they want me."

"That's a good way to put it. Then, if you're a no-go in both directions, they give you their whole-new-life bit. It's a package deal: a new name, a Greyhound bus ticket, and the offer of a shitty job that you'd never take. They walk you to the door, tell you the world is your oyster, and give you a great big swat on the butt, 'cause it's your birthday."