She wasn’t like other girls.
She was fifty stories of ceramic and titanium, bristling with particle cannons and mass drivers, built to drive back the horrors that came from between the stars and perhaps one day bring the war to their doorsteps.
And prom was in one week…
“Have you tried… not thinking about skeletons?” my therapist asks.
I look at her.
I look at the skeleton inside her trying to trick me.
Would you rather fight one 800lb gorilla or 800 1lb gorillas that trust you as their parent?
You can’t mix skeleton and hellhound armies because the hellhounds will just bury the skeleton soldiers for later.
Peregrine falcons: Attack from above. Prey on smaller birds. Silent. Cowards.
Geese: Will land in front of a full grown man. Hiss and honk to let you know battle has commenced. Audible boss music. Brave.
YOU CAN ORDER AN AIR HORN ON AMAZON AND BRING THE FIGHT DIRECTLY TO THE GEESE.
Be the reason they have to add a section about roller skates to the employee handbook.
The barista can’t deal with the man’s ‘Don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee’ shirt.
Her mouth opens, then closes.
The line grows.
I run down a hospital corridor, clutching the mustard dispenser I liberated from the cafeteria.
Earlier I had a plan. Now I have mustard.
