Gaming Junkie

I turned on my console.  Which one, you say?  It was actually one of the older ones.

In the basement, my gaming room is like a command center.  Three computers, all connected on-line.  I have more than one of the latest consoles, just in case one of them breaks down.  I also have consoles from every generation.  I have a bookshelf, but it doesn’t have a single book in it.  It is filled with games.  Games from every era.  There are so many that there are actually 4 bookshelves just to store all the games.  Even with that much shelf space, I still have stacks of games that I can’t put anywhere.  My fifth bookshelf has strategy guides, programming manuals, and several video game reference books.

I’m the master when it comes to video games.  My friends always say “Zack, can you help me with this?”  or “Zack, can you help me build my computer?”  I do have to say that I’m a total techie, and a champion at video gaming.  I have won several competitions, and have tested several new games.

My goal is to design the next great video game.  The landscape would be breathtaking and the difficulty would be fair.  More challenging areas would be designed for those who want it.

Right now, I’m drained, so I’ll down another energy drink.  I’ll update my blog and check out the latest in video gaming news.  I have several things that need to be done before I call it a night.

As for girls, I am actually kind of busy to be dating them right now.  If they will join me in a multiplayer game, I would be more than happy to hang out with them.  I’ll even let them collect the spoils on my next dungeon raid.

Back to the older console,  I turned it on, and began playing.  After mere moments, I tied one of my all-time records.  One of many I have set.

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©2012  K. L. Walker

Ice Cream My Way

Molly looked out the window.  It was a sunny day, and really hot outside.  She heard the sound of music.  It was the magical, colorful music you would hear on a hot summer day.  The sound of an ice cream truck.

The sound got louder and louder.  With that, Molly ran outside and down to the end of the driveway.  She had five dollars in her hands.  She knew exactly what she wanted.

The ice cream truck finally came into view, and stopped by the driveway.  The stand opened, with the ice cream man standing behind it.

“So, what will it be today, young lady?” The ice cream man asked her.

“I’ll have the everything ice cream,” Molly asked with a smile.

“Five dollars, please.” The ice cream man requested.

Molly gave him the five dollars and received a pint of everything ice cream.  And that’s just what it was.  Molly entered the house and got a spoon from the kitchen.  The ice cream tasted like whatever flavor she wanted.  “I want strawberry,” she said with a smile.

After Molly tasted the ice cream, the flavor was indeed what she said.  Strawberry.  She then tried some other flavors.  Her next spoonful was butter scotch.  The one after that was cookies and cream.  After that, was chocolate fudge.  The ice cream was indeed magical, and only the ice cream man knew the secret to making it.

Molly then wanted bubble gum ice cream.  With that, her next spoonful tasted like bubble gum.  After that, it was mint chocolate chip, vanilla, chocolate chip cookie dough, Oreo and rainbow sherbet.  Molly ate every bite, each one a different flavor.  And every flavor was good to the last spoonful.

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©2012  K. L. Walker

Dead End Job

Frank looked at the clock and scowled.  1:30 again.  Time to go to work again.

Frank had his work shirt on, with work pants and a cap.  He totally hated his job.  Minimum wage was all that they paid him.

Frank drove off to work.  The place where he worked was Joe’s Pizza.  He hated working at Joe’s.  So much repetition.  Same pizzas, same work, same part-time schedule.

Despite all this, Frank put on his poker face.  It was an expression that he wore well and used it to hide his negative attitude toward the place where he worked.

Once at Joe’s Pizza, Frank began working.  Frank didn’t mess around.  He was a very good worker.  He just didn’t enjoy the work.

Frank longed for a job where he could express his creative talent.  A job where he could spend numerous hours writing and actually get paid for it.  This is the kind of work that Frank longed for.  However, this work is only a hobby for Frank.  Hobbies don’t make any money.  Getting published does.

As Frank worked, the dream of being published lingered in his mind.  With that, he worked hard at Joe’s Pizza, unwilling to let that dream go.  He sheeted out the dough.  He made the breadsticks.  He prepared the salads and wings.  He worked as hard as he could, longing to pursue his dream when he got home.

While Frank was in a dead end job right now, he hoped that someday that he would get out of it.

“Someday….” Frank sighed.  “I surely hope that happens.”

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©2012  K. L. Walker

Saying Goodbye

It was late July.  That’s when it happened.  The saddest part about it was that it happened without warning.

This loss is not of a person, but of a cat.  An orange, striped cat named Tigger.

Of all the love and affection that he wanted,  I made sure that I pet him.  But how I wish that I could’ve done more.

There were times where I was on the computer, and all he wanted was to be pet.  Someone to pay attention to him.

During my last official week with him, my sister called.  She wanted to know how Tigger was doing.  I told her that he was doing fine.  She then gave me one last request.  She told me to hug Tigger for her.

When I saw Tigger, I did just that.  I hugged him, showing him that I cared.

During the last night that I saw Tigger, he was outside on the lawn in the backyard.  When my mom tried to pet him,  he wasn’t happy.  He wasn’t in a very good mood.  It was like he was trying to tell her something.  Perhaps it might have been that he was going to die soon.

It might have been just that.  The next day, he didn’t come back.  Several more days passed after that.  Still no sign of that lovable orange cat.

With that, it was now official.  Tigger died in the woods.  He was 12, and will be missed by all who knew him.

With Tigger gone, the loneliness began to set in.  My mom has always had a cat, but never a smoky gray one like she wanted.  The search now began for a new cat.  Not a replacement, for no cat can replace Tigger.  Not a replacement at all, but a new cat that we could all grow to love.  With that, the search officially began….

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©2012  K. L. Walker

Sunburn

Haley entered with her mother, father and younger brother, Hayden.

Something bothered Haley.  She winced, cringing with pain.

“Did you have fun at the beach today, Haley?” The mother asked her.

“Mommy, it hurts!”  Haley cried, holding back tears.

The mother frowned.  “What’s wrong, Haley?”

“There’s red on my skin, mommy….” she whimpered.  “It’s red and it hurts.”

The mother looked at her in embarrassment.  Didn’t I cover every inch of her body with suntan lotion?  I must have missed a spot…. “Haley honey, that’s a sunburn,” she told her.  “Show mommy where it hurts.”

Haley reached her hand over the back of her neck, and felt all down that area.  “Ow!  It hurts!”

The mother looked at the sunburned area on the back of her daughter’s neck and hugged her.  “Oh Haley!  You got burned real bad there.  Let mommy put something on it to make it feel better.”

The mother took Haley to the bathroom.

At this time, Haley was writhing in pain.  “Mommy, it hurts!  Please get rid of this pain!”

The mother opened up the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of lidocaine gel.  “Here.  Let me rub this on the back of your neck.  It will make it feel better, I promise.”

Haley looked at her mother, wiping away her tears.  “I hope this works, because it still hurts.”

The mother squirted out some lidocaine gel, until she had a large glob on her hand.  She then began rubbing the glob on the back of Haley’s neck, until it was completely rubbed in.  “Feel better, honey?”

Haley smiled.  “Yes mommy!  A lot better.  When will the sunburn go away?”

The mother looked at Haley’s sunburn.  “In a couple weeks.  Just be patient, dear.  You’re five-years old.  You can handle it.”

Haley sighed.  Stupid sunburn, she thought.  Listening to her mother, she ignored the sunburn.  With the lidocaine, it didn’t hurt as much.  With that, she entered the living room and began playing with her toys.

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©2012  K. L. Walker

No Parole

Matt squinted his eyes, tying to stay awake.

It was another sleepless night, since it was so noisy in the cell.

Looking at the tally written on the wall, he sighed.  Of his total sentence, he served 15 years.  For the last five of these years, he was on  good behavior.  Hopefully, his case will get re-evaluated, or maybe he can get a pardon granted to him.

All Matt knew is that he learned his lesson.  He was a changed man, not like the man he was when they first threw him in there.  Yes, that life was full of trouble, but it’s not the life he lives anymore.

Matt was grateful.  If it wasn’t for that chaplain that visited, he wouldn’t know where he would be.

Looking at the wall, Matt sighed.  He only had the rest of his life to go.  Closing his eyes, he imagined himself in a different place.  This is how he kept his sanity while he was there.  With his eyes closed, he didn’t see his orange jumpsuit.  He was wearing something different.

Finally, Matt opened his eyes.  He sat down and began reading  the one book that influenced him the most….

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©2012  K. L. Walker

For the Fans

Jim got off the airplane and walked through the concourse at a brisk pace.  There was a book signing in twenty minutes.  Because of the delay, his plane didn’t arrive on time.

As fast as he could, Jim ran down the conveyor that was filled with people, all going in one direction.  Another conveyor went in the opposite direction.

This book signing was important for Jim.  This was his next best-seller.  Already having two best-sellers in the past, he didn’t want to leave any of his fans disappointed.

Finally, Jim was outside of the airport.  10 minutes remained.  Jim called down a taxi and entered it.

“To Borders, on 5th and Broadway.” He ordered the cab driver, handing him some extra cash as an incentive for him to go faster.

The cab driver pressed down on the accelerator.  He was fast.  But regardless of how fast he was, Jim was already going to be late.  The cab slowed down and stopped behind a bunch of other cars.  There was a traffic jam.  With that, it was certain.  Jim was not going to make it to his book signing on time.

Jim sighed, and called the book store on his smart phone.  “This is Jim,” he told the manager of the store.  “I am going to be a little late.  You might want to tell everyone else who is there.  My plane came in late, so please let them know.  Be there as soon as I can.  Bye.”

Jim hung up and sighed, when he saw the traffic jam.  In looking at all the cars in the New York City traffic, a sudden realization came upon Jim.  This was going to take a while….

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©2012  K. L. Walker

The Punishment

Natalie scowled, as she stared at her daughter Sidney, who was throwing a temper tantrum in the laundromat parking lot.

“I wanna go home!!!!” Sidney whined.

Natalie sighed.  “Sidney, stop it right now! We can’t go home until the laundry’s done.  Please calm down.”

Sidney wouldn’t listen.  She only screamed louder.  “I WANNA GO HOME!!!!”

Natalie, already frustrated, gave Sidney her pacifier.  “Use this, honey.”

Sidney threw the pacifier back at her face.  “NO! I wanna go home, mommy!  I WANNA GO HOME!!!!!”

Suddenly, a man came out of the laundromat, carrying two bags of laundry.  At the sight of Sidney and Natalie, he  put the laundry in his car and left as quick as he could.

Natalie still needed to get her laundry.  Well, it wasn’t just her laundry.  It was hers and Sidney’s.  Natalie picked up the pacifier.  “Here, Sidney.  Let’s go back inside and get our laundry.”

Sidney stomped her feet on the ground and screamed.  “NO!  I WANNA GO HOME!!!!”

“Fine.  You’re waiting in the car.  I’m getting the laundry.”

Natalie put Sidney in her car seat and gave her the pacifier.  “Mommy is not happy with you at all, Sidney.  I’ll be back with the laundry.”

Natalie re-entered the laundromat, her face red with embarrassment.  Why does she have to do this every week?  There were some people who yelled at her that were still there.

“Learn to control your child, lady!” One of them shouted.

Natalie sighed, and went to the dryers.  All of her laundry was done.  She began filling her five bags of laundry.  After the bags were filled, she carried them out in two trips.

After all the laundry was in, she closed the trunk and entered the car.   Sidney was sitting in her car seat, sucking on her pacifier, all sad and worn out from screaming.

Natalie pulled out of the laundromat.  “Sidney, you are in big trouble when we get home.”

Sidney removed her pacifier.  “No trouble, mommy…”

Natalie nodded.  “Oh yes you are.  You will be punished when you get home.”

Sidney began to cry.  “Don’t punish me, mommy!”

“You embarrassed me at the laundromat again.  You threw a big fit there and in the parking lot.  You are getting punished for that.”

Sidney began to scream again.  “Don’t punish me, mommy!  DON’T PUNISH ME!!!!!!”

“Oh! Now you’re DEFINITELY going to get punished!”

“Na-ah!”

“Oh, you are.  You just talked back.”

“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!”

Natalie sighed.  “Sidney, you have just turned four.  Is this how a four-year old girl is supposed to act?

Sidney continued whining.  “No, mommy….”

“Well, shouldn’t a four-year old girl be punished when they throw a fit?”

“NOOOOO!!!!”  Sidney screamed loudly.

Natalie continued driving, and the arguing continued until they got home.

Natalie let Sidney out of her car seat and got her laundry out of the car.  With her husband being gone on a business trip, she had her hands full for the next two weeks.  She entered the house with Sidney and three bags of laundry.  “Sit there in the living room,” she told her.

Natalie went back out to the car to get her remaining things: her last two bags of laundry, her purse and her diaper bag.  She then closed the trunk and the car and entered the house.

Once in the house, she grabbed a wooden paddle and approached Sidney.  She removed her jeans and her diaper.  “Bend down,” Natalie ordered.

“No!” Sidney shouted.

“I said, BEND DOWN!”

Sidney listened, and she bent down.

During the next couple minutes, Sidney was screaming in pain.  “Ow! OW!!!!! That hurts, mommy!!!!!”

Natalie redressed Sidney.  “Now Sidney, do you know why you got spanked?”

Sidney was in tears.  “I….I was a bad girl!”

“And why were you a bad girl?”

“I threw….a fit.”

“Now, what do you say, when you’ve been bad?”

“I’m…sorry, mommy!”

Natalie looked sternly at Sidney.  “Good.  But you are still in trouble.  There will be no ice cream on Friday.  If you are a good girl….”

Before Natalie could finish, Sidney started screaming again.  “I WANT MY ICE CREAM!!!!!”

Natalie sighed.  “Do you want the paddle again?”

“NO!”

“Now, go to your room.  It’s time for your nap.  I want you to think about what you’ve done.  After your nap, I want you to apologize.”

Sidney sadly walked off to her room.

Natalie sighed.  She made Sidney her bottle.  When is she going to stop using this?  She then took the bottle to Sidney, who was lying down in her crib.  She gave her the bottle and left the room.

After that, things got quiet in the house.  Natalie began to think about Sidney, and the ways that she has behaved in the past.

Natalie cried.  It is official.  I AM a failure as a parent….

Even to her, the word failure was an understatement.  She was the worst parent in the world.  Her only daughter Sidney is four.  She still sleeps in a crib. She still drinks from a bottle.  She still needs her pacifier.  She still isn’t toilet trained and she can’t even dress herself.

To all her friends, she was called a pushover.  “Why do you let her walk all over you?” they ask her.

Natalie took offense to this.  I mean, it’s not like she hasn’t tried.  Oh, how she tried!  According to her, she has tried harder than any other mother to raise her child.  Pushover? I’ve tried everything and nothing has worked.  How do you raise an impossible child?  Any other kid is teachable, but not Sidney….

For Sidney, everything was a fight.  When Sidney was almost two,   Natalie tried to get her to use the sippy cups.  Sidney, however, refused, and wanted to use the bottle instead.  She even forced her to use the cups by taking way her bottle.  When she did this, Sidney threw a fit.  Every week, she tried the sippy cups on Sidney, and took away her bottle.  Every week, she threw a fit.  Finally, when Sidney was three and a half, she gave up.

Natalie’s next battle with Sidney was with her crib.  One day, when Sidney was almost three, she bought her a beautiful new bed.  Big mistake.  Sidney totally hated it, and threw a fit until she got her crib back.

Besides that, there were numerous other battles that Natalie had to fight Sidney with.  The battles against Sidney’s stuffed rabbit (no other rabbit would do), Sidney’s tattered blanket and especially Sidney’s pacifier.  In each of these battles, Natalie fought long and hard.  But in the end, she lost.

But Natalie’s biggest failure would have to be her inability to toilet train Sidney.  Before Sidney turned two, Natalie showed her the potty.  She even bought a potty for Sidney, but she showed no interest.  Maybe a few more months and she’ll be ready….  After a few months, she got the same response from Sidney.  Not interested.  At three, Natalie was desperate.  She bought every book she could on toilet training and used all the techniques.  She even showed Sidney a few cartoons on DVD.  Sidney just didn’t want to learn.  Numerous times, she let Sidney watch her go to the bathroom, hoping that Sidney would get the idea.  Instead of watching her, Sidney would rather play with her toys.  While Natalie has given up on pretty much everything else, she wasn’t about to give up on this one.  This was the only thing that Sidney did not fight with Natalie about, because she just wasn’t interested.

Natalie sighed.  Why doesn’t she want to learn?  She doesn’t even let me know when she needs to be changed!

A couple hours passed.  At that time, Natalie decided to check on Sidney.  Her nap should be done by now….

Natalie entered Sidney’s room.  Sidney sat in her crib, sucking on her pacifier. Her bottle sat nearby her, all empty.  “So, big girl,” Natalie stated, “do you have anything that you want to say to me?”

Sidney took out her pacifier and climbed out of the crib.  She then ran up to Natalie and hugged her.  “I’m sorry, mommy…..”

Natalie needed to hear it again.  “What was that, my girl?”

Sidney looked up at her with a sad face.  “I’m sorry, mommy!”

“So, did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes I did, mommy.”

“So, what are you going to do next time you want something and can’t get it?”

“Be a good girl.”

Natalie was moved, but she still wanted to be sure.  “You know that I am still a little upset about what happened at the laundromat.  There is still no ice cream on Friday.  But, if you are a good girl all the rest of this week, I may change my mind.”

At that, Sidney smiled, and jumped up and down.  “I’ll be a good girl!”

For Natalie, it was so relieving to see her girl like this.  She is usually only happy when she gets what she wants.

Natalie’s attention then went to the empty bottle laying in the crib.  At that, she sighed.  That’s right.   I have to change her….

Natalie laid Sidney down and changed her.  After that, she showed Sidney her potty, telling her how she needs to start using that.  Sidney walked away.  Natalie smiled, and walked toward Sidney.  “Sidney, you know that good girls use the potty.  You want to be a good girl, don’t you?”

Sidney nodded.  “Uh-huh!”

“Then be a good girl and let me know when you need to go next time, okay?’

“Okay mommy!”

Hours passed.  Amazingly, Sidney kept her promise.  For the first time, she used the potty.

The days passed.  Sidney was a good girl, just like she promised.  For the first time, she did not throw a fit and she minded her mother.  For Natalie, it was a miracle.  Sidney has never behaved so well like this before.  While Natalie was not able to fix all of Sidney’s habits, her being obedient was a start.

Finally, it was Friday.

Sidney, all excited, ran toward Natalie with a big smile on her face.  “Mommy!  Can I have my ice cream now?”

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©2012  K. L. Walker

Presentation Day

Tina was nervous.  This was the day that she had to give her presentation at work.  Weeks ago, she was asked to give a 7 minute presentation on workplace safety.  While Tina knew a lot about workplace safety, she really didn’t spend that much time practicing.

With merely 3 hours remaining before her presentation, Tina sat in her office, quietly practicing her presentation.  This was going to get done.  She knew what she was going to say.  She just needed to organize her ideas into a clear and coherent message.  And this message had to be condensed into 7 minutes.

With too much material already, Tina started cutting material out of her speech.  For safety hazards, she omitted a few, decided that she would only outline the most important ones.  For the safety precautions, she removed a few steps and shortened a few others.  If anything, she could direct everyone to the website at the end of her presentation.  Also, with her being the expert on the topic, anyone could talk to her at the end if they had any questions.

With the speech hovering around 7 minutes Tina was now confident.  With an hour remaining, she knew that she could give this speech.  All she needed now was to polish her speech.  A few gestures, and vocal variety, when she explained certain scenarios regarding safety in the workplace.  The other thing she needed to polish was her conclusion.  Other than that, Tina was ready.  If done well, she knew that she could get that nice promotion.  A bonus would also be added to that.   With that, Tina  took a deep breath, and spent the remainder of her time practicing….

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©2012  K. L. Walker

Soup of Ages

The man was baffled.  He had no idea how he got here.

The only thing that he could remember was being at the Renaissance fair.  After that, a blinding flash.  And then, he woke up.

He awakened next to a mysterious building in a small medieval town.  The building had a strange smoke spewing out of the chimney.

Curious of this, the man entered the building.  In the building, he noticed a long hallway of cauldrons, all of them with steam flowing up from them.

The man then approached the cauldron.  He grabbed the spoon to take a sip.

“My, you’ve come fast!  A customer at last!”

The man gasped.  “Wha….? You startled me.”

The man suddenly noticed a mysterious figure standing next to him.  It was a hooded old man, with a long white beard and a walking stick.  “Taste and try, the soups are nigh.”

The man was confused.  He was also starting to get hungry. “There are strange smells in these soups.  What’s in them?”

“That, I can’t tell.  But they all work quite well….”

“Work?  What do you mean?  Are these soups spiked?”

“A voice for a taste.  For a cup, a day you will waste.  A bowl for a year.  For a cauldron, a lifetime you will bear.”

The man scowled.  He was now frustrated.  “Is that some kind of riddle?  Now, how much do these soups cost?”

The old robed man smiled.  “Tastes are free!  The rest cost a fee.”

“How much?  I’m starving here!”

“How much, you say?  Here’s what you pay.  An hour’s wages for a cup, with a day that will perk you up.  A month’s wages for a bowl, with a year that will make you whole.  A year’s wages for a pot, and a happy lifetime is what you got.”

The man began to growl.  “What does all this mean?  And do you have to always speak in rhyme?”

The old robed man began to snicker.  “Don’t ask me.  Just try them and see!”

The man sighed, and began looking at all the cauldrons.  Above each cauldron, he noticed a sign.  “Age 3?  Age 4?  Age 5? What flavors are these soups?”

“Try and see!  The tastes are free!”

The man walked down the whole length of the room,  the hallway was long, which was weird to him since the building didn’t look that big from the outside.  As he was walking, he noticed cauldron after cauldron, each emitting their own strange smells.  Finally, he got to the last cauldron.  “Age 100?  What is in these soups?””

“Stop asking and see.  Try a taste, just for me.”

The man sighed, and walked back down the long hallway.  He began to smell the cauldron marked “Age 2”.  As he sniffed the cauldron, a flood of memories entered his mind. He could smell everything that he ever experienced when he was just two. Pleasant smells and horrible smells.  Every smell that he could remember from that age was there.

The man then grabbed the enormous wooden spoon, and filled it with the steaming hot broth.  He then poured it into his mouth.

Almost instantly, every single thought that he had when he was two years old entered his mind.  “Soup taste stwange….” he said in a much younger voice.

Suddenly, he cupped his hand over his mouth.  “What was that?” He said, now in his normal voice.

The old robed man tapped the man with his walking stick.  “Don’t you remember?  Can’t you see?  A taste for a voice!  That one was free!

“That was weird,” The man said, shaking his head.  “I would rather forget being that age, seriously.”

“From youth to sage, I’ve every age!  Try more and see!  The tastes are free!”

The man walked a little ways down the hallway, past all the cauldrons with single digit ages.  The man then saw the cauldron marked “Age 14”.  Now this was a fun age!  He thought.  I had so much fun back then….He then smelled the cauldron, and could smell every smell that he experienced when he was 14.  After that, he tasted the soup.  “I love this flavor!” he shouted in his 14-year old voice.

After this, the man proceeded to try some other soups.  He tried ages 17, 18, 21, 25 and 28.  Each of them brought back fond memories and familiar smells.  With each of them, his voice sounded the age he tasted.

He kept tasting, age after age until he got to his current age: 35.  He already knew what that soup tasted like, so he turned to the mysterious old robed man.  “I’ll have a whole cauldron of age 35,” he told him.  “I know this is a dream, and I will awaken from it very soon.”

The robed man smiled.  “A year’s wages, then!  And you can have the cauldron.”

The man opened up his wallet and pulled out a few 20’s.  “I don’t know if this will cover it, but here.”

The robed man frowned.  “That paper will not do.  It is gold I need from you.”

The man sighed.  “This is all I have.  Will you accept any other form of payment?”

“There is nary a thing I can do.  Our dealings are through.”

“Are you sure about this?  I am starving!”

“Sure as one could guess, that is, unless….”

The man stared at him impatiently.  “Unless what?  I could wake up any minute!”

The robed man smiled, and got out a tattered piece of parchment.  “The king came by today.  An extra cauldron, he did pay.  For the age, he didn’t say. So, just choose one anyway.”

“So he paid for an extra one and didn’t pick it up?”

“Indeed!  What a waste!  He left with great haste!  So that’s what I can do.  A free cauldron for you.”

With that, the man ate as much as he wanted from the cauldron marked “age 35”.  Since he was 35, his age didn’t change.  The more he ate of the soup, the more he liked it.

Weeks passed.  The man didn’t wake up like he hoped he would.  Everyday, he kept eating the soup.  It kept him well nourished and healthy.  After eating the soup for about a month, the cauldron was finally gone.

The man then left the mysterious building.  After being here for a month, he was now wondering how he was ever going to leave.  As soon as he wondered, he woke up.

The man was at the Renaissance fair.  It was only a dream.

But as the years passed, the man realized that it wasn’t a dream.  After a decade, he realized that he was still 35.  A couple more decades passed.  He was the same age.

Then, he remembered the words from the old robed man: “A voice for a taste.  For a cup, a day you will waste.  A bowl for a year.  For a cauldron, a lifetime you will bear.”

After reciting these words a few times in his head, the words that stuck out were  “For a cauldron, a lifetime you will bear.”

Those very words haunted the man.  As he heard those words, he realized that the taste of that soup was still in his mouth.  The taste has been there for all those years, and he finally realized it.

So the man lived on, remaining at the age of 35 for the rest of his life.

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©2012  K. L. Walker

The Chance

William stood there, frozen in fear.  He was very nervous.

Right next to him sat the girl of his dreams.  Valerie Greenwood.  He wanted to ask her out, but he was too afraid to.

“Do it.” A voice said.

“Come on, Will!  Ask her out!” Another voice said.

William took his seat, shaking his head.  “I can’t, you guys….”

One of the guys smirked.  “Why not?  Are you chicken?”

“Come on.” The other one said.  “You know you want to.”

William sighed.  He knew that if he refused, he would never be able to live it down.  So he got up and approached Valerie.  “Hi Valerie….You look nice today….”

Valerie looked at William and smiled.  “Well thanks.”

William  sighed.   Not like that, you idiot!  He thought.  You need to say it with more confidence!  He looked at Valerie again, and focused, his heart beating extremely fast.  “So Valerie….Are you doing anything tonight?”

Valerie shook her head.  “Well, I do have homework tonight. But other than that, I’m not doing anything.  Why?”

William stared at Valerie in complete terror.  This was the moment he was waiting for.  Was he really going to ask her out, or will he blow it in front of his friends?  William gulped, gathered all the composure he could, and began speaking….

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

The Gift of Time

A curse.  That’s what it was.  At least he thought it was.

Zachary Willowbrook looked at himself with regret.  Zachary was special.  This was what his mother always told him.  But why did it have to happen?  Zachary didn’t know.  All he knew is that it happened.

One might even argue that what Zachary was born with was a gift.  Going back to the beginning, Zachary Willowbrook was born on February 29, 2004 in the city of Nimbleburg, Ohio.  It was not apparent then that there was anything wrong with Zachary.

Upon leaving the hospital, Zachary was a normal child.  His mother was so excited to have her first child.  The father was especially proud, since he would be able to have a son to raise.

As the time passed, it was then that they noticed that something was different about Zachary.  This occurred about a month later, in the evening.

The mother approached the phone.

The father shrugged his shoulders and sighed.  “What’s the problem, Stacy?”

Stacy began to sniff, and wiped away a tear.  “Davy, our child is not normal.”

David frowned.  Even though he preferred the name David, she still called him “Davy”.  Looking at the worry in his wife’s face, he decided that tonight was not the night to argue.  “What do you mean he’s not normal?”

“Haven’t you seen him?  It’s been exactly one month since we took him home from the hospital, and he doesn’t look any more than a week old!”

“Just give it some time, honey.  Maybe there is some kind of delay in his development.”

Stacy placed the phone back on the receiver.  “I hope you’re right, Davy. He’ll surely grow in the next few months, won’t he?”

Three more months passed.  There were several more sleepless nights, with each parent taking turns tending to Zachary.  One sleepless night in particular was nearing an important milestone.

David squinted his eyes and placed his hands over his ears.  “Your turn.  I tended to him last time.”

Stacy staggered out of bed, barely able to keep her eyes open.  “No it’s not.” she yawned.  “I changed him last time. It’s your turn.”

David closed his eyes and groaned.  “He’s crying now.  You go see him.  Stacy?”

The crying got louder.

David grabbed his wife and began shaking her.  “Stacy!  Wake up!”

Stacy awakened, her eyes wide open and squinting.  “What?  What is it?”

Stacy listened to the cry. “Oh.  It’s our son.  Did you see him yet?”

“No.  I thought it was your turn.”

Stacy scowled.  “Let’s both see him!”

David sighed and quietly moaned.  “But I’m tired….”

“So am I, Davy!  Tired or not, we got to take care of Zachary.”

Stacy, in her nightgown, put on her robe and grabbed David by the hand.  He was wearing just a T-shirt and red briefs.

They ran to Zachary’s room.  From last time, Zachary didn’t look much different.  His face looked a little older, but that was about it.

Stacy picked Zachary up out of his crib and rocked him back and forth.  “What’s wrong, Zacky wacky?”

Zachary looked at Stacy and smiled.  “B-b-b-b….!….aa!”

David yawned.  “Shouldn’t we change him?”

Stacy shook her head.  “No.  I changed him an hour ago.  He doesn’t smell like he needs to be changed again, either.”  Stacy sat Zachary back down in his crib.  He was now falling asleep.  Upon looking back at him, she began to shake her head.  “No….”

David placed his hand on Stacy’s arm.  “What’s wrong, honey?”

Stacy placed her hand on her face.  “Shouldn’t he look older than this by now?  Davy, it’s been 4 months since we had Zachary.  He doesn’t even look like he’s 4 months old.”

“How old does he look to you?

“I don’t know!  Maybe about a month old.”

“Stacy.  You’re worrying too much.  Just give it more time.  He’ll grow.”

Stacy hugged David, as she wiped away a tear.  “I hope you’re right, Davy.  I hope you’re right.”

Both David and Stacy left Zachary’s room, their eyelids still heavy.  This left Zachary all alone.  He slept peacefully in his blue crib.  His blue crib sat in a room surrounded by blue.  Different shades of blue.  Baby blues and darker shades of blue for his crib.

Stacy designed what she believed was the perfect room for a baby boy.  According to her, she was quite successful.  A banner of different animals ran the whole perimeter of the room.  Everything was spaced evenly apart from each other.  The changing table, the dresser, the crib and the rocking chair.  The room was clean, with everything neatly organized and everything in its place.

Zachary slept on.  He was greeted by pleasant dreams, which brought a smile to his face.  During that night, he didn’t wake up again.  At least not until morning.

Eight more months passed.  It was now March 1, 2005.  Looking at the calendar, Stacy cried.  With Zachary being born on February 29th, she could not celebrate his birthday this year.

And how bad she wanted to celebrate his birthday!  She had everything thing planned.  Balloons, toys, her family, and a tiny cake, just for Zachary.  When she saw the date, she decided to cancel everything.

When David saw her do this, he was shocked.  “Why did you cancel?” he said with a sigh.  “We can still celebrate his birthday, even though it’s not the 29th.”

Stacy shook her head.  “No! His birthday is going to be celebrated on the 29th!  Now Davy, how would you feel if your birthday was not celebrated on the same day?”

“I wouldn’t like that.  So, now what?  Do we celebrate his birthday in 2008, when he’s four?”

Stacy stared at David, with a crazed look on her face.  “Yes.  And we can make it an even bigger celebration, since it only comes around every four years.  Let’s do that, okay Davy?”

It’s David….David quietly muttered to himself.  “Alright honey.  We’ll do that.”

With it being one year since Zachary was born, Stacy started to worry again.  She brought David into the room and pointed her finger at Zachary.  “Does this look like a one-year old to you?!”  Stacy shouted.  “Tell me, David.”

David hesitated.  “Well….”

“TELL ME!!!!”

“He doesn’t, honey.  Not at all!”

“We’re taking him to a doctor. Something is definitely wrong with him.”

And with that, Stacy set up the appointment with the pediatrician.  She picked up Zachary and carried him to the car.  She fastened him in his car seat.  She and David got in the car and drove to the doctor’s office.

Dr. Miller carefully examined Zachary.  After running a few brief tests, he spoke to Stacy.

“Your child is very healthy,” he told her.

“He’s not,” Stacy argued, shaking her head.

“Let me explain,” Dr. Miller said.  “Now Stacy, how old is your child?”

“Zachary is one.”

“Now that is something that troubles me.  After looking at your child, he clearly looks about 3 months old to me.  A very healthy 3 month old, but nowhere near 12 months.  His development is normal.  His bones, muscles, everything.  What’s not normal is his aging.  Now, what day was he born?”

“On a Sunday.”

“I mean, what date?”

“February 29th.  About last year exactly.”

Dr. Miller smiled.  “But it’s March 1st today.  Your child was born on a leap year.  Even more rare, on a leap day.  Even with this being so, your child should age normally.”

Stacy sighed.  “But he’s not!  Has this even happened before?”

Dr. Miller shook his head.  “Oh heavens, no!  In all the years of my profession, I remember one other patient that was born on February 29th.  It was a girl named Madelyn and she aged normally.  Your case is special.  I have never seen anything like it before.  With this being the case, I don’t know why it’s happening.”

Stacy was now in tears.  “How are we going to treat Zachary?  He doesn’t age!”

“It seems like he is aging to me.  Just very slowly.”

“At what rate is he aging?  How can we speed up his aging process?”

Dr. Miller stared at Stacy.  “Calm down.  I don’t know how fast he’s aging, but I know how we can figure this out.  Bring him in next year.  We’ll see if he’s twelve months then.  Hopefully, everything should balance and the aging should catch up.  As for speeding up the aging process, I don’t have an answer for that.  I am not an expert in that field.”

Still sobbing, Stacie got up and left the room with Zachary.

David sighed.  “She’s upset.  We’ll see you next year, doc.”

With that, another year passed.  Stacy was now eight months pregnant with her second child.  The date was March 1, 2006. Exactly one year later.

With that, Zachary looked a little older.  Not much different. Just slightly older.

After coming back from Dr. Miller, Stacy now knew how slow Zachary was aging.  Zachary was now two, but the pediatrician placed his age at 6 months.  “Three months, Davy!” Stacy sobbed.  “Zachary is only aging three months a year!”

Stacy couldn’t figure it out, and neither could David.  All they knew is that they had a special child.  A child blessed with the gift of time.

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

My Muse

I have writer’s block.  I’m staring at a blank screen, unable to think of another word.

Thinking in my head, I think and contemplate, trying to find the source of my trouble.  It was then that I realized that my muse was gone.

Then it made perfect sense.  This was why I was unable to churn beautiful words.  To thrive on the page and type like there’s no tomorrow.  She left me, and has gone into hiding.

Immediately, I get up from my seat to look for her.  If I could see my muse right now, I could explain to you what she looked like.  How she sounds, thinks, tastes and smells.

Yes.  My muse has a distinct smell.  One that I will explain if I can find her.

My search begins in the house.  I look everywhere.  She is not in the house.

I then go out to the car, looking by the driver’s seat.  She is not in the car.

I then go for a drive, and enter the city.  I drive up and down every place that I have seen her before.  She is not in the city.

Oh, my beautiful muse!  My vixen of creativity that has brought into formation great mirth and creativity flowing through my veins.  Where are you?

I look around the supermarket.  She is not in the supermarket.

I then go to the library.  Surely she is here!  Hiding among the books.  The numerous volumes and endless words.  This is where most muses like to hide.

But not mine.  Not today.  I looked everywhere in the library.  She is not in the library.

Being totally discouraged, I drive home.  My muse cannot be found anywhere.  My cure for writer’s block will not be found today.  How can I be a geyser of creativity, gushing with words without my beautiful muse to guide me?  She is a maiden of imagination, but alas, she is nowhere to be found.

Entering the brink of depression, I walk down the hallway.  I climbed into my melancholy state, touting it well, wearing the emotion like a suit.

Just as I was beginning to feast on sadness, I entered my room.  There my muse sat, as if she was waiting for me.

She sat in my thinking chair, a chair that I often used to think of good ideas.  Oh, my muse!  I am now drenched with happiness.

How shall I explain her to you?  If you were to stare at her, you would be completely under her spell.  The very sight of her puts me into a creative trance.  And if you stare at her long enough, you will see everything that is inside her.  An entire sea of unformed characters.  Yes.  She is the one who makes them.  Who calls them all into existence.

And that is only the beginning of her features.  Entire worlds exist inside of her.  Worlds ready to be unleashed in the form of words and ink.  I have seen medieval countrysides, beautiful mountain valleys, breathtaking cities and seemingly endless beaches inside of her.  She is clothed with creativity, a colorful tapestry that adorns her body.  Her colorful gown is stained with these beautiful worlds.  The void of formless characters is clearly visible in her eyes.

I glanced at my muse, staring at her with great delight.  She is healthy.  The vibrant colors are a clear indication of this.

Believe me.  I have seen my muse when she was sick.  During that time, she was a pale shade of gray.  A dull and sickly figure.  Frail and weak.  Her worlds are not very exciting or colorful.  This is all you need to know about her, as this is a clearly neglected muse that has not been nourished properly.

My muse speaks to me.  Her voice is a symphony of many voices, each one sounding different.  Each voice is a different character, with a different personality.  Her voice is soft and velvety.  Sweet like honey.  I quietly listen to her words, devouring each one as I hear them.  It was a quiet invitation.  It was a plea of urgency.  I nodded in agreement as I listened.

Her smell is breathtaking.  Imagine every wonderful scent that you have ever smelled before.  The smell is almost impossible for me to describe.  When I am around her, I smell roses, apples, lavender, ginger, jasmine and various aloes and perfumes.  Every time I’m around her, I smell a new fragrance.  As the smells blend together, it is hard to determine what the actual smell is.  To sum it up, it is the smell of creativity.  The smell of beauty.

Listening to my muse, I approach her.  She smiles as I grab her.  I hoist her up and thrust her directly into my head.

Upon impact, my muse dissolves into my head.  She has become a mist, that ignites into a radiant light.  The bright mist is absorbed into my brain.

Full of joy and creativity, I run downstairs to the den, where the blank computer screen was.  Using the muse that is now alive in me, I begin to compose beautiful words, successfully outlining a tale like no other.  The tale is the journey to find my muse.  Her creativity is what helped make this tale.  The finding of her and the description of her all culminating into a perfect fusion of man and creativity.

The union is complete, as is this tale.

To all writers who struggle trying to find your muse, I hope this encourages you all.  And, if you are a lady, imagine the muse in the opposite gender.  Whoever you are, the muse can be found.  Find that muse and create.  You most certainly will.

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

Faster

Billy ran through the yard with the lawn mower, going up and down each row as fast as he could.

Shortly after he started, he turned off the mower.  “Done!” He said.

The mother exited the house and looked at the lawn.  “Billy,” she said, “You are not done.  Look at those rows.  There are still clumps of tall grass on some of them.  You need to do the whole thing again.”

“Again?!” Billy cried.  “Okay mom….”

Billy turned on the mower and started running.  “Faster!” he shouted.  “I need to get it done faster!”

The mother was not in the house yet, and noticed that Billy was running.  “BILLY!” she shouted.

Billy couldn’t hear the mother.  The lawn mower was too loud for him to hear her.

The mother whistled loudly, and stood right in the path where Billy was mowing.  “Turn that lawn mower off, now.”

Billy turned off the lawn mower, and stared at her with an impatient look on his face.  “What is it, mom?”

The mother looked at the lawn again.  “Look at the lawn Billy.  You are still not doing it right.  Start over, and do it again.  And I DON’T want to see you run with that mower.  Understand?”

“Yes mom….” Billy sighed.

“If I see you run with that mower again, you are in big trouble!  Go slower and do it right.”

Billy turned the mower on again, he wasn’t running now, but he was still moving fast.

The mother was still outside.  She motioned for him to turn the mower off again.

Billy turned the mower off again and sighed.  “What?! I’m not running!”

“You’re still going too fast,” The mother told him.  “Go slower.”

Billy turned the mower on once again. He began moving at a steady pace.

When the mother saw this, she smiled and went back in.

Even after his mother went in, Billy didn’t want to chance it.  In his mind, he was running, getting the lawn cut as fast as he could.  “Faster, faster faster!” he said, smiling.

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

The Laundromat

My washer broke down.  So now I’m here, at the laundromat.

My clothes are all organized.  I have my whites in one bag and colors in another.  I have a bag filled with quarters, so I’m ready to go.

My first load is already in, so I’m sitting here.  Bored.  Bored after a long, lonely night of working the night shift.

A mother comes in with her daughter.  She has a couple bags with her.  Those are probably her laundry.  She also carried her purse and another larger bag.  This was probably her diaper bag.

The daughter starts to cry and the mother comforts her.  The daughter begins to cry even more.  She refuses to be comforted.

In my frustration, I almost told that lady to quiet her daughter.  I have had a long night.  I don’t need to hear a crying baby.  I just want to get my clothes washed.

The first load is done.  I take that out and put it in the dryer.  I then put the next load in – the colors.

At this time, the mother was finally able to quiet the daughter.  She gives her a sucker.  I don’t know what flavor it was.  I’m guessing it was a cherry one.

To my misfortune, the mother and the daughter take a seat next to me.  The mother uses the nearby washer and then sits down.  The daughter is tired. She falls asleep and the sucker falls out of her mouth and onto the floor.  The mother quietly sighs and picks up the sucker, throwing it away in a nearby trash bin.  The daughter is still asleep.

A man comes in, carrying three garbage bags.  He places them on the floor and leaves.  He comes back in with three more garbage bags.  He leaves and comes back one more time, carrying three bags once again.  That’s nine bags of laundry altogether.

The daughter is still asleep.  She is in the chair next to me, quietly breathing in and out.

I smell an odor.  I look at the daughter and sigh in disgust.  Fortunately, the mother came back.  She had two empty garbage bags next to her and three full ones.  She sits next to her daughter and patiently waits.

The man dumps all his clothes into a washer, trying to stuff it with as many clothes as he can.  He tries to close the lid, but he can’t.

An old lady comes in, carrying just one garbage bag.  She finds an empty washer and pours all the clothes in.

I notice more people here.  A boy staring at the washer, mesmerized by all the colors.  A teenager looking bored, waiting for his clothes to wash.  Finally he gets out his phone and starts playing some game on it.

My focus returns to the odor, which has gotten stronger.  The daughter is still sleeping.  The mother is still waiting.

The man sighs, and gives up trying to stuff all his clothes in.  He removes a few pairs of pants, a handful of socks and a couple pairs of underwear and closes the washer.  Even then, it barely fit.

The old lady was sitting down, quietly working on what looked like a crossword puzzle.  I couldn’t tell from where I was sitting.

The second load was finally done.  What a relief.  I quietly got up from my chair and escaped the odor.  My whites were almost dry, but not quite.  Quietly sighing, I put my colors in another dryer.

I sit down and return to the odor, which at this time is unbearable.  I almost said something to the mother, but I bit my tongue and kept quiet.

Shortly after I sat down, the daughter woke up.  She stretched her little hands and yawned.  The mother saw that she was awake.  She placed the daughter on the floor and got her to her feet.  She then grabbed her by the hand, quickly guiding her into the bathroom.  Good riddance.

The man filled up a fourth washer with laundry.  Even then, he wasn’t done. He still had two garbage bags to go.

The old lady got up.  Her one load was done, so she took out the load and put it into the dryer.

I got up and checked my laundry.  My whites were done and my colors were halfway done.  I took the whites out of the dryer and put them back into the garbage bag.  I then took the bag with me and sat down.

The mother came back with the daughter.  The mother sat the daughter down in the chair and checked on her laundry.

The daughter looked at me and smiled.  I sniffed the air again.  The odor was almost gone.  I then looked at the daughter and managed a smile.

The daughter then asked me a lot of questions.  The first one had to do with what I was smelling.  With each answer I gave her, she kept asking why. She then asked who I was, and various other questions.

At about this time, the mother came back.  She looked at me and apologized, telling me that her daughter talks to everyone, including strangers.  With that, I nodded, telling her that it was okay.

The mother than tried to quiet the daughter. The daughter was getting antsy.

The old lady took her bag of clean clothes and left.

The man finally put the last of his laundry in, and was switching a few of his finished loads into dryers.

The daughter squirmed around on the chair and started to act fussy.  She wanted to leave the laundromat, but the mother told her that they couldn’t leave yet.  Almost losing her patience, she walks quickly away to check on her laundry.  All five of her garbage bags were empty.

The daughter was now in a crying fit.  I wasn’t going to deal with this.  I checked on my colors.  Ten more minutes.

I returned to the chair, with the mother returning at the same time.  The daughter’s temper tantrum continued.  I couldn’t take it anymore.  I yelled at the mother, telling her to quiet her daughter.  The mother was almost in tears.  To make things worse, other customers were yelling at her.  The man with the nine bags of laundry was extremely angry.

The mother, totally red with embarrassment spanked her whining and screaming daughter and took her out of the laundromat.

I checked the colors again.  They were done.  I quickly filled my other bag and walked out, carrying two clean bags of laundry.

I could still hear the daughter, crying and screaming in the parking lot.  The mother tried calming the daughter, but she kept screaming louder.

I put my laundry in the car and drove off.

With all that went on at the laundromat, one thing is certain.  I need to get myself a new washer, and fast!

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

Crash and Burn

Brad opened his eyes.  Everything was a blur.  He could hear the sound of beeping.

The room that he was in was sterile, and he could see several people surrounding him.  What’s going on here?

“He’s regaining consciousness.”  A nurse said.

“Heart rate is increasing and becoming steady.” Another said.

Brad’s vision became a blur.  It was all a blur to him.

Before this, all Brad could remember is driving on his motorcycle.  He was leaving a bar and on his way home.  Suddenly, he started to nod off.  His motorcycle veered off the road.  That’s all that he could remember.

“Where….Where am I?”  Brad said in confusion.

“You’re in the hospital, Brad.” A doctor told him.  “Someone found you in a ditch, off the side of the road.  The motorcycle was nearby, all busted.  You should be lucky that you are alive.”

Brad didn’t know what to say.  All that he wanted to do was get home.  He didn’t want to be all confined in this hospital.  He wanted to be free.  But when he tried to move, all that he could feel was pain.

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

Birthday Wish

Cindy stepped out of her room and sighed.  The house was quiet.  Too quiet.

In the kitchen sat a birthday cake.  It was a round marble cake with five candles.  Her mom made it before she left.

Both of her parents were not there.  Cindy sighed.  I won’t be able to have this cake until they come home tonight….

Cindy stared at the cake.  She couldn’t wait any longer.  Getting out the matches, she lit the five candles all by herself.  She felt proud doing this, considering this was her first time.

Very quietly, she sang “Happy Birthday to You” to herself..

After that, Cindy closed her eyes and wished with all her might.  A tear rolled down her cheek.  “I wish I had a friend….” she sniffed.

Right after she blew out the candles, there was a flash in the room.  A great big genie appeared.

The genie smiled, and looked at Cindy.  “Happy birthday, Cindy!”

Cindy smiled.  “Who are you?”

“I am a genie!”  The genie told her.  “You wished for a friend, right?  I will be your friend today, and will grant you any wish that you want.   And unlike my friends, I will give you unlimited wishes, but for today only!”

Cindy giggled with excitement.  She looked at herself and frowned.  “I wish I was older….”

The genie frowned.  “How old?  I can’t grant the wish unless you tell me.”

Cindy looked at a toy car that she used for one of her Barbie dolls.  “I wish I was old enough to drive, like mommy and daddy!”

The genie waved his hands.  “Your wish is my command!”

Cindy suddenly flashed and she grew taller.  She was now 16 years old.

Cindy giggled again.  “I can now drive like mommy and daddy!  I wish that mommy and daddy was home early from work.”

The genie waved his hands again.  “Your wish is my command!”

Seconds later, both cars entered the driveway.  Her parents entered the house and noticed Cindy, who was now 16.

Cindy beamed with excitement.  “Mommy!”

Cindy’s mother stared at her in shock.  “Cindy?  Is that you?  No!  It can’t be!  Miss.  I don’t know what you’re doing in our house, but have you seen our daughter?  We came home early to celebrate her birthday.  She just turned 5 today….”

Cindy hugged her mother.  “It’s me, mommy.  I lit the candles and made a wish and this genie appeared!  He’s going to give me unlimited wishes because it’s my birthday.  I wished that I was old enough to drive and for you and daddy to be home early from work.  Both wishes came true!  Isn’t this great, mommy?”

The mother stared at her daughter in disbelief.  “You’ve grown so much, honey.  I don’t know why this is happening.  You may be old enough to drive, but you’re still five years old on the inside.  You don’t act anything like a teenager…..”

Cindy pouted.  “You’re wrong, mommy.  I’ll show you I can drive.  I wish that I knew how to drive!”

The genie, now hidden from view waved his hands at Cindy.  “Your wish is my command!”

Cindy flashed.  This made her smile.  “Did you see him, mommy?”

The mother frowned.  “See who?  I don’t see anyone, honey.”

Cindy quietly sighed.  Maybe only I can see him….

Cindy walked out to the red minivan and got inside it.  “Let’s go for a ride, mommy and daddy!”

The father entered the car and shook his head.  “You are not driving.  You are only five-years old.”

“It’s my birthday, daddy.  I want you and mommy to ride with me.”

The father shrugged his shoulders.  “Okay….Let’s go.”

The mother got in and sat in the passenger seat.  The father sat in the seat behind her.

Cindy started up the car and pulled out of the driveway.  Surprisingly, she ended up driving really well.  She drove around the city and down the highway.  Cindy then stopped at one intersection.  “See? I know how to drive!”

The mother shook her head and stared at the father.  “Don’t you think that it’s strange that our little girl can drive?”

The father sighed and shrugged his shoulders.  “None of this is real.  It’s a dream and pretty soon I’ll wake up.”

“We must be having the same dream then.  I hope you’re right.”

Cindy continued driving and entered downtown.  “This city is boring….” she sighed.  “I wish that this city was a giant amusement park, with ponies, and ribbons and beautiful colors….”

The genie waved her hands at Cindy and granted her wish.  The skyscrapers became rides of every kind.

Cindy’s wishing continued.  She wished for an enormous castle for her to live in the center of the amusement park.  She also wished for giant stuffed animals and trees that grew candy.  She wished for talking bears, rabbits, cats and stuffed animals.  She made numerous other wishes that a five-year old would wish for.  The list is so long that I will spare listing everything.

The mother managed an artificial smile.  “I am glad that you are enjoying your birthday, honey.  Why don’t you wish your self back to your own sweet self….”

Cindy shook her head.  “Don’t be silly, mommy.  If I did that, I wouldn’t be old enough to drive.”

The mother sighed.  When is this dream going to end?

Cindy continued wishing.  The father and mother could no longer see the world that they lived in.  It was no longer the world that they knew.  It was now a five-year old’s paradise.  Everything that Cindy loved was there, and everything was full of color.

Cindy then opened up her presents.  All the gifts were pretty much everything that she wished for, of course.

After the presents, Cindy moved on to the birthday cake.  It was an enormous cake that she wished for, with five candles on it.  It was much bigger than the cake that her mother made.

The mother shot a double take.  “It should be 16 candles, honey.”

Cindy shook her hand.  “But I’m five, mommy!”

“You don’t look five to me.”

“I know what you’re trying to do mommy, and it’s not gonna work!  I’m five, and I’m staying old enough to drive!”

Cindy wished for the candles to be lit.  They then sang “Happy Birthday to You”.  After that, she wished that the candles were all blown out.

The cake was then cut.  Cindy and her parents ate part of the cake.  It was a marble cake, like the one her mother made.  This was eaten with vanilla ice cream.

After that, it was time for bed.  Cindy, still having the appearance of a teenager, put her pajamas on.  She then brushed her teeth.

Cindy looked at the mirror and sighed.  “Why are these bulges on me?”

Cindy shrugged her shoulders.  She kissed her mother and father good night and went to bed in her elegantly decorated chamber of the castle.

The genie hovered over Cindy and smiled.  “You sure gave me a work out today.  But I needed it.  You still have three more hours to make wishes.  If you need anything, just let me know.”

Cindy thought for a while and then smiled.  “I wish that everyday was my birthday!”

The genie waved his hands at Cindy.  “Your wish is my command!”

The next day came.  Everything was back to normal.  Cindy was five-years old again.

Cindy stepped out of her room.  The house was quiet, once again.

In the kitchen sat the same birthday cake.  It was a round marble cake with five candles.  Her mom made it before she left.

Upon seeing that cake, Cindy smiled.  Grinning from ear to ear, Cindy knew that this day was going to be a whole lot of fun….

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©2012  K. L. Walker

A Dream Come True

Zuna woke up.  She wore the royal gown that a princess would wear.  She was in an opulently decorated palace, sitting on a richly decorated bed.

“It came true,” She smiled.  “I really am a princess.”

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Zuna! Open up now!”

Zuna sighed.  “Yes mother….”

Zuna opened up the door to her room to find her mother standing there, frowning.

“Zuna,” she scolded, “You are not a princess.  If the king found out that you had this dream, you would be in big trouble!  Now turn back this instant!”

“No!” Zuna shouted.  “I wanna be a princess!”

Her mother sighed.  “Fine.  We’ll do it the hard way….”

Zuna’s mother cast magic on herself to make herself fall asleep.

Almost instantly, Zuna’s clothes changed back into pajamas.  She was no longer a princess.  The palace transformed back into a normal house.

Zuna’s mother woke up.  “There.  I dreamed this place back to normal again.  Don’t have that dream again or you will be in big trouble, glimpta!”

Zuna sighed.  “Yes mother….”

Since it was still dark, the mother sent Zuna back to bed.  “Sweet dreams, my glimpta.” she told her.

Her mother left the room.

Zuna closed her eyes and smiled.  Her pajamas became a royal gown and the house became a palace.  The door to her mother’s  room became locked.  Zuna then grew ten times her size.

Her mother, though, was still sleeping.  And it’s a good thing that she was.  Zuna was going to be in a lot of trouble when she wakes up….

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©2012  K. L. Walker

Windfall

Sam roamed the alleys of the city.  He didn’t do this by choice.  He HAD  to.

Sam lost everything.  When the company that he worked for went bankrupt, he lost his job.  In just a few months, he ran out of money.

Suddenly, Sam felt hungry. He usually rummaged the dumpsters for food, but he didn’t want to get sick again.  It wasn’t something that he wanted to do.  With his old job, he could eat anything he wanted.

Now, Sam was just standing outside of a drug store.  That’s when he suddenly noticed some guy exiting, holding a bunch of lottery tickets.  He was holding so many tickets that one of them fell out of his hand.  This ticket fell right next to Sam.

Sam was about to walk away from the ticket, but he didn’t.  Instead, he picked it up.  The numbers read as follows: 8 40 22 41 87 12.

The next day, Sam approached a coffee shop.  He usually went there in the morning to beg for food.  With that, he took the ticket with him and entered.

Since Sam found that ticket, it went everywhere with him.  Not that it mattered, he thought.  This wasn’t going to be the winning ticket, right?

As Sam was about to beg, he noticed the TV.  It was on a local news channel.  It was currently discussing the lottery numbers from last night.

“Last night’s numbers for the $248 million jackpot were 8, 40, 22, 41, 87 and 12.” The news anchor announced.

Sam looked at his ticket, and then at the numbers on the television screen.  Sure enough, they were all the same.

At this, Sam started to cry.  His life was about to be totally different….

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©2012  K. L. Walker