Plastic Prison

“What color eyes would you like?” The doctor asked, but Abby didn’t hear him. She was too busy thinking about things, her mind always working overtime. It was the second time the doctor had to ask.

“Mrs. Dastion, I know you’ve taken and passed the appropriate tests and paid the appropriate fees, but if you can’t keep your mind settled on your child, what makes you so certain you’re ready to have one?”

Abby’s face flushed. She wanted to tell him to shut up, that she was going to be a very good mother.

“Brown,” was all that came out.

Daddy's Vineyard

“It’s haunted.”

Tray stopped writing and looked up. His leather chair creaked at the sudden movement.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, a half-smile on his face. “People aren’t buying it because, it’s haunted?”

“That’s right,” Dan said. He had a how-do-you-like-that-shit smile on his face. Tray didn’t like it much at all.

“How long has it been up for sale? A couple months?” he began paging through papers that were scattered across the oak.

“Twenty years.”

The Reaper's Dance

Sebastian loved the theatre. It was a whimsical dance between reality and illusion, a dance that allowed his inner self – his soul - to change shape and express its most secret desires.

Sebastian understood it, understood the stage and its grand purpose. He understood why generations of people returned to the wooden planks of the theatre, century after century – whether it was Sophocles or Shakespeare – to watch as the players told their stories.

It was the allure of timelessness - the taint of oblivion that slid over the plays, speaking of divinity and mysticism. That is why Sebastian loved the theatre. He understood it, and it seemed to understand him.

Humanity's Perfection

It was a perfect day, as far as John could tell. Looking out a window he could see people gathering outside, all members of the media; they had arrived on time. It took them a while to get situated and to set up their equipment, but it took no longer than John expected. Their type always took a while.

John couldn’t wait to see their faces.

The clouds seemed to whip by swiftly for such a windless day. It made them seem giddy and carefree, and yet wild with excitement. John felt a similar way. He was bursting with glee, but as the man in charge he needed to be the epitome of composure. His many years of experience as a businessman helped with that.

Alright, well that's it for now. By the way, if you'd like to review and critique, or just read the rest of any of these stories, feel free to email me at ohanson@fit.edu