Lin pumped her legs as she swung back and forth on the swing-set. Children laughed, or screamed all around her, their little dramas a world apart from Lin's own as she sank into her own thoughts. Collecting, curating sensations. This was her mission for this outing. Their happiness was garish and hurt her eyes. How much longer till she could go home? She needed to be home. But she could not deny Fei these snatches of sunlight, the sensation of the wind passing through her hair, the cut of the chain under her palms. Things that had been taken from him. A child stamped into her peripheral vision. "Excuse me!" She ignored him. "You've had a veeery long turn on that swing!" "Get lost." The child, chocolate smeared cretin, gaped, then took his wobbly lower lip to petition an adult for justice. You didn't have to be so mean. "Do you want to swing or not?" Lin asked aloud, too loud, startling a nearby girl into jumping. She tugged her pinafore, a soft pink, like cotton candy. Soft like her voice. "Is it okay?" she asked. Let her have it. Lin tsked and leapt off. The pink girl wrestled the flailing chains and gave Lin a troubled look. Fei didn't speak up but Link could tell he wanted to remind her to be nice. "I am nice. I'm nice enough," Lin retorted. The girl gave Lin another look from atop the swing. "Who are you talking to?" Why are you speaking aloud? "It doesn't matter. Who cares what these people think," came Lin's terse reply. "What do you want to do next?" There came a strained silence. Lin bit the inside of her cheek, then stopped. Stop. You're ruining it. Only good feelings. Good feelings. Just come home. I've had enough. "Are you sure? I can go on the spinner again." *It's fine.* "What about the jungle gym? Or the monkey bars? There's the grass too. I can take off my shoes--" Just come home, Lin, I'm tired. Lin ignored the pink girl's expression of near panic at her one-sided outburst and turned on her heel toward the parking lot. The driver was snuffed out the smoke he'd been sneaking at the sight of her and coughed. "Done already?" "Take me home," Lin yanked the door to the car open and slammed it after her to punctuate her displeasure. "Sure thing, miss." Lin's palms began to sweat as the car passed by downtown, images passing her eyes without entering as she entered a world of her own worries. Why are you panicking? Stop panicking. You can't be like this. You can't be like this. Good feelings only. She wanted to press the heels of her hands into her eyes and scream. Instead, she smiled. At home, the grand entryway was still and empty. Mother and father in separate wings. She passed a maid in the halls as she headed towards her destination, who was careful not to smile as she nodded her head. Her expression carefully calibrated to convey sympathy, comfort, and respect. Lin paused in front of the doorway, schooled her own expression, and pressed down on the doorknob. Inside, Fei looked up from his book. Machines beeped as they monitored his life signs. An attendant fluffed pillows at the side, replacing the one behind Fei's head. She couldn't feel any of it. The pain. Not when Fei was awake at least. Sometimes, when he was asleep, he slipped. In a sick way, Lin was glad during such times. At least then, she could share her brother's pain the way she shared her joy. What little of it she had these days. It hurt to look at him. His dark hair had long fallen out years past, but somehow it never failed to startle Lin. As if, like a baby without object permanence, she would be forever surprised by her brother's sickness. "Did you have fun?" Fei asked. "I have the most fun when I'm with you. Did you have fun?" Fei gave her faint look. "The sun felt nice, I guess." Lin smiled as she came to Fei's side. No one smiled in this house. No one except her.

It was the eighth of December and Mason was performing his yearly ritual of idealistic daydreams. It was a time that left Lucas both fearful and amused. Lucas swept his eyes over the elaborate twelve month plan spread across the coffee table, and pinched his brow. He loved his boyfriend, he really did. Some days, he wanted nothing more than to squeeze him into a small ball and shove him in his pocket so he could take him to work with him, but god, was the man a bit manic and obsessive. And distracted. Mason had a plan. He had a one year plan. It was the latest plan of a series of failed plans, but he had it all worked out this time, he was certain of it. According to him, he had met the love of his life, and he could no longer slack off. His entire life was unfurling before him like an endless fragrant meadow. He just needed the courage to frolic in it! He needed to take risks and open up "unseen avenues". It had been hard leaving behind his life in small-town America, but he was convinced. This was the year he would do it. New place, new me! This had been his mantra for the past three years. Lucas took a hesitant scan of a random leaf. Body Goals - Gain ten pounds of muscle: - I want to win a wrestling match just once. ONCE. Dammit Lucas. - Lower BMI by 3% - I mean, I guess I could afford to lay off the cookies a little more... - Cardio: - train for a marathon. GDI I will NOT have my niece LAUGH in my face during TAG. - Increase deadlift by 50pds - Lucas you smug bastard. I'll show you. - Yoga - ... Lucas stifled a grin, withdrew his gaze and settled on another page. Learning Goals - Learn Spanish: - become fluent! I want to be able to order at my favorite taco place! - Learn Guitar: - no more getting stuck on Stairway to Heaven! - Learn how to watercolor: - I have all my paints in the cart. - Learn how to whittle: - this time wear gloves. emergency rooms are sucky. - Learn C++: - theres also python, javascript and loads others. Which should I pick first? Lucas' thoughts went to the stack of abandoned self-help books lying on his lover's bedside table and held his head. Mason's scream of fright came from the kitchen along with a clatter of scattering baking pans. A timer gave an alarmed beep before being silenced by a hurried slap. Suddenly the smell of burnt ginger wafted throughout the house. With a sigh, Lucas went to fetch the fire extinguisher. If he was quick, maybe he could beat the fire alarm this time. [WC: 475]

A clear sky, wondrously full of starlit and moonbeams, spread across the navy-blue nighttime. Mortals took in a lung-full of brisk night air, then frowned down as a stray cacophony of groans ruined the atmosphere he'd been brewing. The army of corpse warriors milled about aimlessly under the high tower. Freshly raised, their flesh still plump with blood and fluids. Life, draining with every moment. It wouldn't be longer than a month before they were no more than rancid, sacks of death. Mortas tired of their moaning and slammed the windows shut. They always made too much noise in the first few days of their afterlife. As if they were lamenting, and complaining of their new paradigm. This was an illusion of course, the undead had nothing in their heads but failing grey matter. The most advanced warriors had little more than walnut-sized lumps of desiccated flesh, only enough left govern the few motor functions needed to move their bodies to their conductor's will. It was a dreary life, being a lich. For the thousandth time that day, Mortas told himself he was in desperate need of a vacation. Somewhere with sunlight and tapas--even if he couldn't partake. It was hard being an animated bag of bones, but what was one to do when you were a dark lord? I'll do it, Mortas promised himself. I'll have a good look a those royal gardens of Avarus I've been meaning to visit, and then I supposed I'll have to sack the place. After all, it wasn't typical of the living to react with calm when a grand lich barged into their imperial palaces. It was the sort of thing that sparked *disagreements.* Sometimes, Mortas felt, that being a dark lord was the most tiresome job in the world. All that burning and looting, and what did it get him but more bothersome intrusions of the heroic kind. That damned Chosen One would get what was coming to him once he finished raising his fifth army. The materials had been harvested that day and needed immediate processing for the best effect. A shame. He had wanted to curl up with a nice book, but what's one to do when deadlines were looming? He spared a look at the slivers of moonlight coming in through his high windows before cracking open another grimoire. His assistants finished throwing the last body on the magic circle before retreating as he waved them away impatiently. He had so many batches of corpses to go through, he'd likely be at it all night. Just another night.

There were two dead flies on the sill, an inch apart. Lin stood in the morning light cascading though the window, and thought this was odd in in several ways. First of all, there were three maids. Why would there be a chance for not only one, but two flies to be seen together, dead and in plain sight? Secondly, why two at the same window in a house with sixty-three windows? Were they friends? "Why do you assume they were friends? They could have been enemies. Maybe they fought to the death." Fei blew the corpses aside. They tumbled into the corner and embraced. "Houseflies only live for up to twenty-eight days," Lin replied. "If they hated each other, they could have just left each other alone. Why waste their time fighting?" "They're flies. You think they can have the ability to so clearly distinguish gains and losses?" "That's true," Lin said. "But I am exercising my human nature in attributing meaning to things that are without sense. If they were friends, did they come into the house thinking they were embarking on a grand adventure? And if they were enemies, then what were they fighting over?" "Does it matter either way? They are dead." As if on cue, a maid approached and shot an embarrassed smile at the two children before sweeping the two dead flies into a dustpan. They gazed after her as she descended the spiral staircase with her cargo, shielding it from stray winds. "Do you want to play Go?" Fei asked at last. "I get black."