It was still as visible to me as if I were looking at it now. She was standing against the back wall, her hair double braided, wearing her blue flowered summer dress that matched her eyes. Her feet were bare, except the anklet she never took off, given to her by an old lover. She cherished that thing more than any other possession she kept, and the way she maintained the shine on it, you would have thought it was new.

A fire was bellowing loudly, dancing color into the otherwise dim room that had a single wooden chair, only feet away. The tattered rug on the floor, a family heirloom as it were, making it’s comforting presence ever known, something she despised. It could have been the faded color, or the fact that even though she was the recipient, she felt guilty that it had been hers for the taking.

I remained still, by the open door leading into her bedroom where a sweet smell occasionally graced my nostril, interrupting my breathing pattern as I stopped to take it in. I had missed the top button of my shirt and was fumbling with it as I watched her. A strand of hair had pulled loose and she tucked it behind her ear.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” she asks me, a hint of concern edged her voice.

I let out a breath and stare at my dirty boots. ” I don’t know. We’ll be heading toward the front at a command. It’s going to be dark soon, and you know he likes to strike in the night.” As I closed my mouth a feeling swept over me that this would indeed be the last time my eyes could behold her beauty.

“I’ll pray for you.” she said as she clasp her hands and turned away from the window to face me. “I know you don’t believe it, but I think it helps.”

A comment like that usually brought a frown to my face, but I held it. I had not prayed since He took my father, eight years ago. “Thank you.” I pulled on my winter coat before crossing the room. She fell into my arms in one last embrace, tears welled within her bottomless eyes. “Keep well.” I kissed her forehead then headed out the door.

Two young men stood on a street corner across from an orange brick church behind a green steel fence. The day was hot and still. They made small talk as they enjoyed some ice cream they had just purchased from a mobile vendor. Each of them had sun bleached blond hair from the countless hours they had spent going door to door, inviting people to listen to a message they traveled across the world to tell. Their shoes were scuffed and coated in the orange dirt that was found every where, and even though they had been polished that morning, as they did each morning, they looked worn and old.

The sky was clear as far as they could see except for a large dark cloud far away behind the church building. It got quiet. The temperature dropped noticeably as a gust of wind pulled through their clothing.  It felt good as they had gone the entire day with no wind to help cool them, and their water was already gone. They looked once again at the cloud which had nearly cut the distance between them by half in only a few seconds.

Ignoring a prompting to head for cover somewhere, they held out their arms as another gust of wind brought the temperature down and cooled them. It was as if someone had cut the sky open, they were both instantly drenched to the bone. The rain came down so fast and hard that they had nowhere to run. They quickly dashed across the street and stood by the pillars on each side of the gate. The wind was blowing so hard they could not even hear each other when they yelled at how awesome the storm was. They got out their camera’s and took pictures of each other.

It wasn’t long before the air was so cold, their lips turned blue and they began to shiver. What was this storm and where did it come from? But as quickly as it came, it stopped, as if the faucet had been closed and the storm clouds were gone. They stood in unbelief and the day was hot and calm again, now thankful to be soaking wet.

The two of them stood in the doorway, holding hankies over their noses and mouths. Smoke still rose from heaps of burned books and clothing that littered the fire eaten floor. In every scene they had investigated, every call they had answered, nothing had been as devastating as what they saw before them. Sixteen black, charred skeletons were seen in various locations around the room, and it was apparent that they weren’t all adults.

The early morning sky still dark enough to hide the fine detail, yet light enough to prevent you from cracking your shin on the coffee table. The constant race against time and other drivers, even though you are never late. The inconsiderate people drinking their cup of joe, super latte espresso mix to wire them for the day, even though they understand once they get to work, the rush ends and they fight to keep their bloodshot eyes from closing.

Something I see everyday. People have become so cold, always thinking about themselves and not necessarily about their safety. Cutting corners, using the least amount of time and effort to get the job done. “It will do for now.” never gets the red flag anymore. Satisfied with mediocrity. The only one making the effort to do a good job is always overlooked and often ridiculed for being the bosses work dog. Negatives.

But after all the turmoil, after the mad rush of anger, frustration and hate, I return home, where a loving wife and two adorable children make it all worth it. With smiles that could melt through an iceberg, arms that hug tighter than the strongest vice, and words that erase the burdens of the day.

This is what I see everyday.

Her legs were crossed at the ankles. Laying on her stomach, propped up on her arms, she held a large book. Jamie, her mother, stepped closer to the door and peered through the inch gap between the door and the frame. She was singing a tune, many of the words were not fully enunciated which brought a smile to Jamie’s face. It was a song she had not fully learned yet. The floor creaked under her weight making Sariah turn to face the door.

She grinned widely. “Hi mommy,” she beamed.

Jamie pushed the door open and crossed to sit beside her daughter. “Hi baby,” she said as she pulled Sariah’s brown hair out of her eyes. “What are you looking at?” she asked Sariah closed the book and allowed her mother to read. “Maps?” she nodded.

Sariah opened the book again and began to trace the dotted lines “I like to follow them and pretend they make patterns,” she said.

Jamie laughed. “I think they do sometimes,” she reached over and traced one of the rivers until it met Sariah’s hand. They laughed together.

The room had a warm feel to it. The light cream colored curtains blocked the direct sunlight, yet allowed the light to fill the room. The carpet, also a lighter neutral color, was soft and felt new. Not that it was a big room, but the furniture that was present did not subtract from the available space for an eight year old to play in. He sat with his toy firetruck set and imagined he was amid the turmoil and the heroes saving the innocent people within the burning houses. Even though this event happened many many years ago, and the room’s detail had faded from memory, he never forgot the feeling.

As hard as I try, I really can’t think of anything. There was a time when I was with some friends driving down a gravel road. The drivers name is Daniel, he’s from England. He was showing off his smooth technique by flipping the car left and right without ever losing control of the vehicle. I was impressed that he actually tossed gravel up onto the hood of the car, something I had never seen before. I don’t mean a few rocks, more like a handful or two of dirt and rock. I tried a few weeks later… yeah that wasn’t very smart. I almost flipped the car. I have to say that I had never driven a car on two wheels.

She had been down this road before. That was many years ago, when she was a child. Things were much different now. The open alley was cluttered with old cardboard boxes, newspapers and tenants who were chased off daily only to return night after night. She let out a sigh, she would have to take the long way around. It was too late to be running through the alleyway, even though her house was on the other side, there had been too many crimes committed in her childhood playground.

The street lamps were humming softly in florescent tones while the light rain kept rhythm. An occasional car would pass, squeezing the water from the road, which sounded like an applaud emitting from an audience. Up ahead on the opposite side of the road, the lights of a police car, ambulance and fire truck, made up the light show for the entire block. She was the star.

The corner of her mouth pulled into a smile. Although it took longer to get from point A to point B, she was glad to be accompanied with the music of nature and civilization.

My friends laughed as I pulled back the dark purple and blue satin curtain into Madame Curioso’s shrine to the other world. A puff of incense blew past my head like a cloud of exhaust from a ten year old diesel truck, burning my eyes. I blinked and felt my friends shove me into the mysterious dome-shaped room.

“Welcome… Seth,” came a soothing voice. It took a second for my eyes to adjust, then I saw the faint blue glow emitting from the crystal ball on a short table. Did she just say my name? “Come closer, dear. Madame Curioso knows all. You seek love, money, success.”

I rolled my eyes. Who isn’t seeking those things? “What can you tell me?” I played along. I didn’t think she had moved, but she was standing right before me.

“Do not mock the ancestral ways of communication with the departed,” she warned. “It’s not everyday you get a chance to glimpse into the future, find out what’s awaiting you.”

I felt her cold fingers wrap around my hands and pull me to my knees before the illuminating orb. “Okay.” I was curious after all.

She moved in such fluid motions, it was almost ghost-like. “Now, gaze into your future,” she said and reached her skeletal fingers over the ball and touched it with her finger tips. I sat on the edge of the small stool, shoulders hunched forward. I squinted, while fidgeting with my hands. The orb turned a shade of red, then white filling the room. I was transfixed on the images before me. I felt myself lift from my chair, coming closer and closer to the hypnotizing colors emitting from within this small glass object which seemed to be growing.

The wind came from nowhere and pulled at my clothing. I heard a crack of lightning and a crash of thunder, all the while the ball grew. I realized soon that my clothing was growing too. My jewelry fell from my fingers which were small and childlike and fell to the table. I shivered as my clothing fell from my body. I crawled through the neck of my shirt and placed my hands on the ball. I had shrunk so small it was now five or six times my size.

This couldn’t be happening. I heard Madame Curioso laugh and loom down at me from behind the ball. She was getting bigger and bigger, or I was getting smaller. My hand brushed up against a knob on the ball which I instantly jerked away from. But to get out of the site of Madame Curioso, I rushed against the knob, turning it, and stumbled through the ball into a dark thick room. The knob disappeared behind me and I heard whispering. “Who’s there?” I called out. My voice was shaking. All noise from the outside ceased.

“There’s nothing to go back to now,” a woman said. “It wont be too long before you go insane like the others.”

I sat down on the ground and wrapped my arms around my legs. “Is there no way out?” I asked?

She laughed. “Even if there were. I think were about the size of mice.”

Madame Curioso picked up the ball and returned it to the case. She walked back through a doorway to the front of her display and pressed a button. Mechanical arms pulled her tent into the back of her wagon and she sat down on the patient horses. “Yup!” She commanded and the horses began the slow walk away from the circus.

The same group of girls that had been there since this year of school had started were all watching me as I walked around the corner. They had either not yet begun their endless gossiping that kept them occupied through the lunch hour, or they had stopped as they saw me come.

I smiled confidently at them and they turned their faces back into the center of the circle. I checked my blouse and skirt to be sure I hadn’t spilled something on my uniform. I shrugged when I noticed nothing out of the ordinary, and fished a pen from my purse.

I looked up at the steps into Jeuno High to see Xi. He was there as usual, standing with his jacket slung over his shoulder as if the world owed him something. His black hair was sticking out everywhere, the common way of styling hair now, with his bangs hanging over his eyes. His shirt was untucked on the right and his tie was skewed. He looked good, standing among his friends who were completely envious of him, and told jokes to pass the time between our lunch break and our afternoon final.

As I closed the gap between us, his friends glanced in my direction and he followed their gaze. I watched his eyes pass up my body and finally meet my eyes. As I passed him, I purposefully dropped my pen and watched him turn around slowly and pick it up for me. His smile widened as he extended his hand in my direction, and I couldn’t help smiling myself.

“Did you drop this?” he asked me. His voice was so angelic I had to hold myself back. I nodded and took the pen from his hand and returned it to my purse.

“I did, thank you.” I managed. He stepped closer and placed his hand against the wall next to my head.

“How have you been this year Mikado?” I could smell the cologne and I tried to hide the fact that I was inhaling as much of it as I could. I nodded and began to get hot as he stepped closer. I slid my purse to my elbow and crossed my arms over my book. He would think I was weird for being in an AP Math class.

“I’ve had a great year, Xi.” I managed to blurt out. I dropped my eyes as he put his other hand against the wall, blocking all my exits. I stepped backward into the cold brick wall.

“What are your plans after school today?” He asked. I shook my head and realized that I was meeting Niko after school. She was American and her real name was Nicole, but we all called her Niko. I didn’t realize he had dropped his hand and stepped closer until I felt his fingers clutch mine. I could feel my cheeks getting red as he gently took my hand and brought it to his lips. A kiss.

“I’m uh…” I stammered as my heart beat into my throat. “I’m sure you can aim better than that.” I didn’t think, I just grabbed his face and leaned in to kiss him. It was an awkward kiss and I tried to ignore the catcalls coming from his friends, but this was something I had wanted since I met him two years ago.

I let him go and pushed his arm out of my way as I hurried into the school. I’m sure I would hear about that later.