All My Stories

by Edd

     Now you have heard my story of the zebra who sold his stripes to an elephant.
     And you know the story of Polaris, who was a starfish before the King of the North granted his wish.
     And you know that the wolf howls at the moon because he stays up all night and is too tired to howl at the sun.
     You know all my stories, like why the dragons are all living in volcanoes and where the Phoenix hides in Arizona.
     And you know what Sleeping Beauty dreamed about.
     And you know why her daughter was named Matilda Jane.
     Now, you know about the owl who lost to himself at chess.
     And you know about the quarrel between Summer and Winter.
     And you know about the time Thursday wanted to come before Tuesday.
     You have heard the tale of the King of the Bakers who traded his crown for a cake made of rainbows.
     And you know why evergreen trees don’t change color.
     And you know where the lioness lost her mane.
     Now, you’ve heard why turtles and pies have shells and why skunks and alarm clocks don’t.
     And you know about the cowboy who roped the moon.
     And you know about the hunter who snared his own shadow.
     That is all of my stories. I have no more. If you don’t believe me then I’ll tell you a little tale why.

One Hole Goes In. One Hole Comes Out.

by Luc Reid

See death. See death conquer. Death conquers all.

See the bloated human corpses. See the alien conquerers. The alien conquerers are squat and mauve and desolated. See them cry. What have they done?

See the alien playleader Contemptuous stride through the ruins. Contemptuous has lost his mating group. They died of a bad missile. Poor, poor mating group. Poor Contemptuous.

Contemptuous likes to play. The alien conquerers like to play. The aliens do not like to kill. They do not kill with malice aforethought.

The aliens play with good missiles. They play with xenoforming nanotechnology. Their missiles do not hurt them. Boom, boom! See?

Humans like to play, too. Why are the humans playing with missiles? They should not play with the alien conquerers. They should not play with Contemptuous. Contemptuous will be cross. Why do humans play with missiles? Sodding bastards.

Now there is movement. Look, Contemptuous, look! There is movement! There are humans! They are not all dead. Death did not conquer them.

See Contemptuous run. He runs with abandon. He runs to the humans, blaring with joy.

The humans have breathing apparatus. The humans have guns. See them shoot Contemptuous! How joyfully they shoot! Their bullets make tiny holes. One hole goes in. One hole comes out.

Contemptuous wants to play with guns. He will play, too. His nanotech symbiants are making a gun. Contemptuous shoots them. What fun to play! The humans fall down. They are good at playing.

Contemptuous loses bodily fluids. Now he is cross. Why must he lose bodily fluids? They pool on the ground like old fryer oil.

Contemptuous sees his mating group. He sees them in a vision. Stay, mating group, stay! The vision is only neurochemical. There is no afterlife. Contemptuous feels cold. Poor Contemptuous!

See darkness. Fall, darkness, fall! Darkness falls fast.