101 Words

Dalshia, my distant light,

I have arrived at my Uncle Eratribe’s property to find it in complete disrepair. Unfortunately, his bequest will require no small amount of renovation.

Even from orbit, my sensors detected that the water was polluted and the natural resources depleted.

If that were not enough, there is a vermin infestation. At first, they seemed reclusive and frightened but now they’ve become aggressive, attacking with tiny stings and bites. I will send for you when they are removed; however, it may be quite some time as I have heard exterminating humans is notoriously difficult.

All my love,

Baltenar

Everything is a scintillating gold: my coat, my watch, the day outside. Music from the rows of bangles adorning my sisters’ arms rings in my ears. But, there’s no tinkle on Ammi’s wrists, no gold sequins on her pastel dupatta.

Waiters wear starched turbans, and banquet tables release aromas, but, I have no appetite.

All eyes are on me. I say “Qubool Hai” when asked the third time. Congratulations echo in the hall. Ammi dabs her eyes and smiles. Elders bless me, but none of the hands carry the same weight and warmth as your palm on my head, my Abba.

“Shit.”

She hadn’t gotten a corkscrew. She added it to the list of things she’d buy another time, when she had money. Turned out unemployment was possible despite her naive beliefs otherwise.

She twisted a knife, and the bottle slid away from her, off the counter.

She cried, not for broken glass or spilled wine. The summer was almost over and she had no pay stubs or wild memories to show for it. Her roommate was no more than a ghost who laughed behind a closed door. She hadn’t written, except for her signature on the lease.

She grieved that most.

With trembling fingers, Dan reached down to his friend’s waist. He heard the urgent radio chatter.

“Suspect is on foot, heading east on Mulberry towards Main.”

His heart racing, Dan began running down Mulberry Street.

He spotted the punk, wearing the black sweatshirt witnesses described. His feet pounding the pavement, Dan caught his quarry, pushing him against a fence, his pistol in his hand.

“Hey!” the kid yelled.

“You killed Joe,” Dan growled through gritted teeth. “I’m gonna finish the job he started.”

He put his gun away and reached for the handcuffs he’d taken from Joe’s belt.

“You’re under arrest.”

Friends and Colleagues:

After seventeen years, it’s time for me, your faithful IT Director, to say goodbye.

But first, I have to ask: If you had access to the firm’s entire email store—like I did—wouldn’t you, at least occasionally, be tempted to sneak a peek?

And if you learned that a former partner sued the firm for discrimination—a partner who claimed that management fired her because she had “unnatural abilities”—wouldn’t you like the inside scoop?

I’ll bet you would.

Well, my time is up. Should you like to meet for drinks, drop me a line!

Kirk out.

This is our last cup together before going in separate directions. I wanted it to be somewhere special.

You chose a Wendy’s by the highway.

We own no furniture together and instead discuss ownership of memories.

I wanna keep all of mine. You’d like to keep one or two.

Which?

No answer.

Only one minute left of the hour you granted. After this cup, I won’t get even a glimpse into your life.

I try thinking of some last words…you can take them with you—and like magic they’ll keep you safe.

But you never believed in magic, any kind.