Melody Black The interrogation room door opened with a bang, and I glanced up with a neutral expression. Two officers, both wearing grim expressions, took their seats in front of me. The taller, younger man held a thin yellow file in his hands.
“Miss Black,” the shorter officer started, steepling his hands together. “Do you have any idea why you’ve been brought in this evening?”
I indicated the cuffs around my wrists with a tilt of my head. “I can only assume it’s something serious.”
The younger man slipped a photo from the yellow file. “Can you confirm that this is you?”
I gave the grainy picture a cursory glance. “Well,” I replied, “it certainly looks like me.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that, although this person bears a rather striking resemblance to me, I can say for certain it isn’t.
Flower PowerPink roses, white lilies, lilac freesias and cream stocks.
Now, how would you describe this beautiful bunch of flowers? Yes—how about you?
A ‘stunning bouquet’. Yes, that’s absolutely right—well remembered! When thrown directly at the head, this kind of bouquet can stun an attacker for up to 30 seconds.
I shall demonstrate a few throwing techniques for you.
You can throw… underarm!
Or… overarm!
Or, if it’s possible for you to turn your back on your assailant, there is always… ‘The Bride’!
Oh. Oops. Is he… OK? Is he breathing? Oh, lovely. Just pop him into the recovery position then and we’ll crack on.
Next we have the glancing-blow posies. These are used simply to distract the assailant so that someone more heavily armed has time to get into position—maybe with a stunning bouquet, or perhaps even a wreath. But wreaths are only used in extreme circumstances. They don’t call them funeral flow
The Dragon and the Golden Man Once upon a time there was a thief named Rashid. At first he found great wealth and had many wondrous adventures, but as his fame spread people began to grow wise to his tricks, and Rashid grew hungry. One day, having not eaten anything for a considerable time, he did something he had wanted never to do: he crept inside the great burial mound that lay not far out of town, and which all knew to be cursed.
Within the mound, which was ringed round by standing stones, Rashid found vast piles of treasure. The thief needed no torch to see the riches he had discovered, for the quantity of gold there was so great, its lustre so brilliant, that it gave off its own light. However, though hungry, Rashid was not foolish. He took only a single golden cup, that surely could not be missed. And so Rashid stole quietly away, and neither wraith nor fiend nor devil pursued him from that place.
First, Rashid took the golden cup to the
FFM 2014: FaithHenry walked up the steps and kneeled on the cold stone floor, silently hoping that his white chinos wouldn’t stain. Holding the ritual coin pressed between his fingers, he raised both hands in supplication and tried not to blink as the Dispensary Agent splashed water on his forehead and made the sign of the Well above Henry’s head.
“Proceed” The Dispensary Agent called out in a ringing voice.
Henry thought he was overdoing the robed acolyte thing a bit, especially as he only looked about eighteen years old and still had acne. Was he really supposed to take this teenager seriously as the supposed representative of a mystical force?
Henry lowered his eyes to the watery depths, or tried to, the wall was a little too high to see over comfortably. For the second time in as many minutes he deeply regretted his choice of white pants for the occasion, and shuffled forward slightly to get a better view. Of course it wasn’t really his fault, he’d been brought
The HelpLike ants, the clones paraded in a circle between the car and the kitchen, hauling the bags of groceries inside.
“Really, honey?” Gordon Gregory asked.
“Why not?” Dr. Sharon Gregory said with a shrug. “I had some leftover bio-matter and overbooked myself this morning.”
“And it didn’t occur to you to ask for some… help?” Gregory sidestepped as one of the clones nearly staggered into him, barely able to see over the bulk pack of toilet paper Michelle had purchased.
“And ruin your vacation? You work hard, honey. I can’t imagine what it’s even like battling supervillains all day. You deserve a break.” She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek.
“I just… I don’t know. Doesn’t this violate some ethical rules or something?”
“Jury’s still out on that.”
“And I’m just not comfortable with these things running around the house with our kids.
FFM12: Lies are Bad and Don't Talk to BirdsThe silver prince lived in the far off land of Nomas. He was a good prince who loved his people. As much as he loved them and as much as they loved him, there was one thing that kept peace and harmony from the kingdom.<da:thumb id="467499361"/>
The silver prince told lies.
Most of the time, they were little lies. If the royal shirt maker asked what color shirt he wanted him to make, he might say red when he really wanted a blue shirt. When the cook asked if he liked roast beef for dinner, he might say yes when he really wanted chicken legs. When his lies were discovered, he didn't understand why it was wrong. He'd told them what they wanted to hear. What did it matter if it wasn't the truth?
The silver prince was walking in the royal rock gardens when he saw a crow land atop one of the big, marble boulders. It carried something shiny clasped in its beak.
“Hello, Crow, what have you got in your beak?” he asked. In the land of Nomas, it wasn't unusual to talk to birds or for them to talk back. The cro
Gregory and the Blueberries One fine morning, Gregory the hedgehog was out walking through the forest. The morning air was crisp and cool, Gregory became hungry. He wondered if he could find something good to eat.
Then he smelled something delicious close by. He followed his nose right to a blueberry bush. There were more ripe, plump blueberries than Gregory could count. His tummy growled at the sight of them, so he sat down to eat.
Before he knew it, he had eaten every single blueberry on the bush. He had eaten so many blueberries that his tummy ached, so he decided to go home and sleep until he felt better.
When he woke up, Gregory felt much better, so he decided to find his friends and ask them to play.
But when he got to the clearing, he saw that his friends were unhappy.
“What’s going on?”
Bethany was crying when she looked up at Gregory. “Someone ate all my blueberries! I was saving them
The Alien Who Didn't Fit InOnce there was an alien named Krrg, whose parents wanted to send him to school on planet Earth. His father bought him a rucksack, and his mother made him a special suit to disguise him as a human.
“Do your best to fit in,” said his mother as she kissed him goodbye at the school gate.
“I will!” said Krrg, waving as he went inside.
The teacher introduced Krrg to the class. “Everyone, this is Craig,” she said. “I want you all to make him feel welcome. Do you want to tell everyone about yourself, Craig?”
Krrg stepped forward, his hands held neatly behind his back. He couldn’t tell them he was an alien, so he lied. “My name is Craig, and I am a normal human child. I like jigsaw puzzles.”
The class didn’t seem to think he was very interesting.
“Thank you, Craig,” said the teacher. “You can sit down now.”
The first subject of the day was maths. Krrg was especially good at maths, and the questions h
FFM 2014: PulaOnce upon a time in in a small village in Botswana, there was a little girl named Lesedi who was very naughty.
While out walking one day Lesedi came across Mma Rammala cooking porridge for her breakfast. Mma Rammala had forgotten her bowl and went to fetch it, and seeing the porridge untended Lesedi decided she was hungry and ate it.
When Mma Rammala returned to find her cooking pot empty she cried out in shock.
“Lesedi, what has happened to the porridge I was making for my breakfast?”
“Impi the Vervet Monkey took it,’ Lesedi said, and pointed to the tree where he was sitting. “I tried to stop him, but my legs are not fast enough and I couldn’t reach him in time to stop him eating everything.
“You greedy Monkey!” Mma Rammala scolded. “How dare you eat all my breakfast!”
“But I didn’t do it!” Impi cried.
“I don’t believe you. You are a liar and a thief!” Said Mma Rammala and turned her
Sicklefox Once upon a time there was a naughty boy. He was about your age, if I’m not mistaken. This naughty boy loved to run and jump and play with his friends, but more than anything he loved sweet things. So when he spied the baker coming down the street with two trays of iced buns, he wasted no time in running over to him.
“Aren’t you afraid carrying all those buns?” asked the naughty little boy.
“Afraid?” asked the baker. “Of course not—why would I be?”
“Why,” lied the naughty boy, “because Sicklefox likes nothing better than iced buns, and I hear he is nearby. If he finds you, he’ll cut out your tongue and eat it.”
The baker stopped. This was new to him, but all had heard tales of Sicklefox and all knew them to be true.
“Perhaps I should take half,” said
FFM13: Birth of a Dark WizardAlana stared at the letter, her stomach churning. The rejection hadn't been that much of a surprise, but it was still hard to swallow. She had high marks in all her classes and it still hadn't been enough for Master Hector. He had chosen another apprentice for the apprenticeship.<da:thumb id="467584855"/>
Again.
“Just work harder. It will turn out right, “ Douglas said.
She stared at him until he looked away. This was the fifth time she'd been rejected. Officially, the reasons had all been the same, “You're just not what we're looking for.” Unofficially, she'd been informed she would never be what they were looking for---she should quit now and find a nice young man to occupy her time. She wasn't wanted here. If it wasn't for her father, she would have been laughed out before she finished applying.
“Just work harder,” she repeated.
He had to know he said the wrong thing again. She complained enough already about all the kitchen work the master wizards had given her. She scrub
Delicacies (FFM Day 11)"To Whom it May Concern:
There's a footprint on my back that will tell you all you need to know about the local homeowner's association. Paying attention? Good. Let me start at the beginning.
Seven months ago, my wife became pregnant. With two little boys already, we knew our two-bedroom couldn't sustain us much longer. We began looking for something new. Now, you need to understand something. My wife is the sweetest, most normal creature I know...unless she's pregnant. I know what you're thinking. "ALL pregnant women can be terrors, those fluctuating hormones and the back pain alone would..."
No. You aren't understanding.
You see, my wife is an alien. No, I don't mean she's from Cuba or Mexico or Peru. She doesn't have a green card. She isn't here illegally. I mean she's an alien. And when she's pregnant, her old quirks come out. Bright purple scales; long webbed toes; a strange obsession w
The Ideal BookshelfAlice's Adventures in Wonderland would sit on the end, propped up by an ampersand. We read it together when we were eight, if you recall. Some of the words were unfamiliar, but the riddles and poems made us giggle, and we dreamed of Cheshire cats and had our mad tea parties in the attic. We longed for our own Wonderland where anything impossible would be.
Next would be The Perks of Being a Wallflower, which helped us through that awful transition period between childhood and adulthood. You were the mysterious someone I wrote to, always sending my love, even though we'd never meet face to face.
Beside Perks--you hated it when I called it that--would be Memoirs of a Geisha, the book that changed our lives. We became homesick for places we'd never been, wanting to experience it all--dance like a geisha, hunt exotic animals in Africa, storm the Bastille. After that book, we'd nev
OscarI remember how excited the stadium was that day. Track events hardly ever draw so much attention, but I could see at least half my school in the stands. It was an incredible rush to see them out, hear them cheer like I'd never heard anyone cheer for me before.
I lined up, ready for the four hundred yard dash. I'd never been so prepared. Every muscle in my body felt like taut strings, prepared to make beautiful music. I walked past the school mascot, Oscar the Bull (the fifth of his name, though it was rarely brought up). I took my mark, and when the starting pistol was shot, I dashed like I'd never run before.
What I'd failed to realize was that I had a spare shirt hanging out of the back of my pants, caught in my elastic band. Oscar did not appreciate the flapping red cloth that trailed behind me. I thought at first that it was simply more excitement from the crowd when I started running, which drove me on faster than I'd ever gone.
I set both a personal best time and a school record
Narelle's New PetOne day when Narelle was walking through the woods, she happened upon a most curious thing: there was a little dragon curled up under a big oak tree. The dragon looked quite sad; its large, golden eyes stared at the ground, and it barely stirred as she approached it.
"Are you okay?" Narelle asked, carefully approaching the dragon. "Did you lose your mother?"
The dragon turned its head toward Narelle and let out a sigh, smoke rising from its nostrils. It didn't frown--that would be silly, dragons can't frown, after all--but Narelle could tell it was lonely. It opened its mouth and made a groaning sound.
"Are you hungry?" Narelle asked, tilting her head to the side.
The dragon groaned again and a bit more smoke rose from its nostrils.
Narelle patted its head and smiled.
"I'll be right back, okay? Stay right here."
She ran through the woods, weaving her way between the trees, until she came to its edge and saw her house. Her father was carrying firewood
Three BrothersNot long ago, in a town not so different from ours, there live three brothers. The oldest was Don. He was very tall and very strong. The middle child was named Ron, and he was very smart. Like Don, Ron was also very tall.
The youngest was Jon. Unlike his brothers, Jon was not tall or strong or smart. He had to work harder at everything just to keep up with his classmates and his brothers. This made Jon a hard worker.
Like many older brothers, Don and Ron liked to play tricks on Jon. Despite their sometimes mean pranks, Jon wanted more than anything to be like his big brothers, so he followed them everywhere. Don and Ron did not like their little brother tagging along, but their mom often forced them to let him come.
One sunny summer day, Ron and Don went out to play in the park across from their house. “Take your little brother with you,” Mom ordered. The two boys groaned and moaned, but they knew arguing would do no good.
Exited to join them on an adventure, Job grabbed hi
