I’m thrilled and frustrated at the same time. I asked those who wanted to enter their submission to email me their name. A few did that and never submitted their stories. Please, please don’t sign up if you can’t follow through. I take a fair amount of time making prizes, etc.

Ok, rant over.

Congratulations on your wonderful stories, Don and Marsha. Don chose the eyeglasses bookmark, and Marsha’s prize will be the eReader case.

Here are their stories. Enjoy them, and feel free to give them kind feedback.

Don McCann’s Story:

The More Things Change . . .

Prompt #1: People can enter worlds through books, and you’ve just entered a book locked inside a museum for centuries.

One

The door Niles forced his way through clearly pre-dated the library—pre-dated anything he could think of, in fact.  He was following a sound only he seemed to hear.  Everyone else was tucked into quiet conversations, or engrossed in their computers and smartphones.  He continued and, once through the door, the sound became a dull, gray glow, quietly beckoning.

There . . . a book.

The imposing tome, almost six inches thick, sat on the waist-high pedestal that seemed to be the only furnishing in the office-sized chamber.  Looking around, he found that, aside from the book, and some dusty cobwebs, he was the only other thing in the room.  The faint glow increased as he stepped closer and . . . and the book was opening!  He stopped suddenly.  When he stopped, the book stopped, the cover and first few pages raised a scant inch from the other pages.  Frowning, he took a step . . . the book opened more.  Eyes wide, he continued forward and, as he did, the book opened fully, the cover now completely resting on the dust-covered stone.  When he finally dared to read the words displayed on the open page, something in his soul clicked . . .

How to Travel

. . . and, in a daze, he read further.  Finally, six hours later, long after the library had closed, he shut the book and looked around him, no longer seeing the dusty chamber where he’d started his afternoon.  Instead, he saw the clear and shining meaning of his very existence.

The next day, Niles walked away from his job, and into . . . something else . . . 

Two

Walking into headquarters, Javen was comforted, as she always was, by the French script carved into the steel above the heavy glass doors.

plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose

<The more things change, the more they stay the same>

They certainly would if she had anything to say about it—which, of course, she did.  After all, that’s what they paid her for.

Three

Niles ran.  Drenched with sweat, heaving breaths almost sobbing trying to fill his lungs, he somehow managed to put on more speed and careened around the corner.  Ducking into the basement stairwell of an abandoned clothing store, he rolled quickly through the doorway and froze.  Hearing the unmuffled roar of the motorcycles nearing, then passing his location, he didn’t let himself relax until the powerful sounds faded completely. 

Gasping out the breath he’d been holding, he collapsed, heedless of the glass that littered the floor.  After a few minutes, he felt it was safe and slowly levered to his feet.  About to walk back through the doorway, his eyes caught on a flash of color.  Picking up the swatch of yellow cloth, his eyes filled with angry tears, seeing the six-pointed star stitched into the fabric.

The people chasing him were not the enemy he’d expected.  Even though they dressed the same, like him, they did not belong here.  He had no idea who they were, or why they were trying to stop him, but he couldn’t let them.  Not when he was so close to saving her.  Saving everyone.

Four

Norenson and Javen stood at rigid attention, not even daring to breathe.

“Again?  He escaped.  Again?”

Javen cleared her throat, “Commander, we . . . we believe The Entity is helping him.  It’s as if—”

“Of course, it’s helping him!”  Nichols shouted, “That’s what it does!  The more it helps him, the longer it stays out, the longer it stays out, the stronger it gets, the stronger it gets, the closer it gets to its goal and, if it achieves its goal . . .”  She shook her head, “Why am I wasting my time with you two?  You know the story as well as anyone.  Go find Niles, find The Entity and stop all this!”  Her voice grew faint with the import of her words, “Before it stops everything.”

Five

Niles didn’t have an elaborate plan.  Fortunately, he didn’t need one.  A quick slice to the jugular; up close to watch the life fade from his enemy’s eyes as he used the last seconds to explain why this was happening—and, that was it.  He was as ready as he would ever be.

Sitting in the alley behind a men’s dormitory in Vienna, he was dressed even worse than the poor souls who filled the place night after night.  He had to be, though.  It was the only way in.  And, once in, it would be a simple matter to locate his quarry and exact his revenge.

Or rather, his grandmother’s revenge.

After following his target for a week, he knew the man would be returning to this homeless shelter in a few hours.  He actually had a fairly good idea where he was right now, but didn’t want to risk getting caught in a crowd.  The histories didn’t go into great detail about where he sold his wares, but this shelter was recorded in multiple accounts, so here he sat.

Soon, grandmother.  Soon . . .

Six

“The Holocaust, huh?  That’s messed up.”

“Yeah,” Norenson nodded.  “He says she was with the only group that survived.  Her group had to stand in the yard, naked and freezing, watching while ten other groups walked into the showers.”  His voice trailed off at the grisly images that played in his head.

“And . . . ?”  Javen prompted.

“Yeah . . . she told him she thought they were getting real showers this time because they . . . they heard the spraying of the water and saw . . . steam rising from the building.”

Javen was silent a moment.  Then, “That wasn’t water?”

He shook his head.

“And . . . that wasn’t steam?”

Another shake.

Neither spoke for a few moments, jackboots echoing sharply in the alley behind the dormitory.  Then, “Javen?”

“Yeah?”

“What would you do?”

They’d never had this conversation before, but they’d both thought about it.  It’s not that they disagreed with people trying to make things better.  It’s just that . . . it never worked.  There were hours and hours of archive footage of the results and it was always the same.  People came back, having averted this, or that crisis and, things were better.  For a while.  But, invariably, within three months—never longer—chaos, disaster, and death.  Always death.  And, things were always worse. 

Always.

Once they’d learned how to undo all the ‘good deeds’, it became a simple matter to stop them before they happened.  Well, simple in principle.  The mechanics behind it all was far beyond her comprehension.  But, it worked flawlessly, every time.  Fortunately.  She shuddered to think of what would happen—what had happened—if it hadn’t.

Dinosaurs running rampant through crowded cities . . .

Earth’s population enslaved, being herded into enormous alien spaceships . . .

Huge chunks of the planet simply melting off and falling into space . . .

Worse had happened—much worse—but these were the images that stayed with her.

They possessed the technology to reverse every catastrophe, so they couldn’t stop now—even in the face of—

Norenson went on, “It’s just one life, Javen.  One life to save—”

“Six million,” she interrupted harshly.  “I know, but we can’t Norenson.”  She grabbed his arm and spun him around, “We . . . can’t!”

Stopped there in the alley, the frigid wind howled around them like screams.  She didn’t have to ask him to think about it.  She knew he was.  They’d both watched the same footage, over and over.  Their training was nothing, if not thorough.

“I know,” he whispered.  “I know what would happen.  It’s just . . . sometimes, I hate this job.”

“I know,” she relaxed her grip.  “Me, too.”  She started walking again, “But, we have work to do.”

Seven

Lying on the filthy pallet, looking at the back of his enemy’s head, Niles could hear his grandmother sobbing in her sleep, reliving the horrors she’d experienced at Buchenwald.  She would tell the tale at every Feast Day; how the men were taken directly to the “showers”, never to been seen again.  But, the women, she said, the women had it much worse.  At least, for the men, it was over quickly.  When they marched the women to the “showers”, they had to stand on that freezing tile floor for hours on end, waiting for the inevitable hissing of the gas (they were not supposed to know about that, she whispered, but they’d all heard the stories).  Then, laughing at their tears and terror, the guards would file into the room.  Her voice always faded here.  And then the real horrors would start, she whispered.

Tears coursing down his face, Niles sat up.  Stifling his sobs, he slipped the gleaming blade from his sleeve.  Darting forward, he gripped his enemy’s shoulder.  “Adolf!” he spat, harsh voice barely above a whisper.  “My grandmother’s name was Sara, and you—”

“Wha—?”  Startled, he jerked from sleep.  In his nightmare, an angry man was yelling something about his grandmother.  Awake now, he sat up and looked around the stifling room.  As he was on most nights, Adolf Hitler was surrounded by filthy, foul-smelling men like himself.  Hearing only guttural snores, he lay down and fell back into a fitful sleep, where he dreamed of a life far from this suffocating poverty.  A life of power he knew he deserved.

Eight

Nichols took The Entity from Javen, “Thank you.”  Staring down at the innocent looking lifeform at the bottom of the vault between them, she could feel its power sucking at her, like talons sunk into her head, pulling her down.  Like the Djinn of old, it transformed itself into something familiar and, once it drew you in, promised you anything . . . everything.  Right now, they had it locked into its last form—an ancient book—but she knew, if it were released, there was no telling what form it would take—or what promises it would make.

“Commander . . . ?”

Flinching as Javen’s voice yanked her from the abyss, Nichols slammed the vault closed and spun the locking lever.  As soon as she’d done this, her mind cleared and the room swam back into view.  She took a shuddering breath and fixed them both with her serious gaze, “I know this was difficult, but you know full well what it means.  For all of us.”

They nodded.  Norenson opened his mouth, but never got to speak.

“Yes, Commander,” Javen nodded formally.  “Plus ça change . . .”

“Plus c’est la même chose. . .” Norenson finished weakly.

Turning, Nichols locked the vault into a special portal in the wall behind her desk.  “Now, get of here, both of you,” she turned back to them.  “I’ll see you back here in two weeks for your next assignment.”

“Yes, Commander.”

After they were gone, Commander Nichols was assembling her report when she jumped at a dull clap that seemed to compress the air around her.  It subsided after a few seconds, leaving her with an ominous sense of foreboding.  Abruptly, she turned to the wall behind her and quickly opened the portal.

The Entity was gone.

Nine

Not speaking, Norenson started up at the French script carved into the steel above the heavy glass doors.  Then, one tear sliding down his cheek, “You know, sometimes . . .”

“I know.  Me, too.”

Ten

The door Niles found clearly pre-dated the library—pre-dated anything he could think of, in fact.  He was following a sound only he seemed to hear.  Everyone else was tucked into quiet conversations, or engrossed in their computers, and smartphones.  He continued and, as he reached for the door, he jumped at a dull clap that seemed to compress the air around him.  It subsided after a few seconds, leaving him with a strangely empty sensation.  Abruptly, before he could change his mind, he yanked the door open and . . .

Nothing.

Niles peered about the empty room, seeing only cobwebs, dust and an empty pedestal.  When he approached it, he could tell it once held something—a book, perhaps—but, no more.  Oddly relieved, he left, shutting the ancient door behind him.

Marsha Ablowitz’s Story:

Bright Blue eyes
Prompt #2 By Marsha Ablowitz words 1,223
It was strange to be grocery shopping with Dad. It had always been Mom who picked Kitty up after school Thursdays and took her to the big new Safeway on 16th.
Avenue. After packing the groceries in the car they would go for a treat and ‘girl time’.
Would Dad take her for a treat? Would he talk to her about Mom? He looked sad and distracted as his little daughter helped him find the soup section and the fresh meat section. Then at the checkout Kitty saw that tall dark checkout clerk, Star, with the bright blue eyes. Kitty hoped dad would go to the self-check out but instead he pushed the cart into Star’s row. She batted her eyes at daddy as she began gracefully sliding the groceries through the checkout and bagging them.
“I’m so sorry about your wife, Joe.”
Daddy jerked in surprise. “Sorry, do I know you? Did you know Nadia?”
“She was beautiful. She sure loved her dark roast coffee.”
“Yes, she drank a lot of coffee in her last weeks.”
“I see you like lemon ginger tea, Joe.” Star caressed the yellow tea box. She stared at Joe. He looked at her hesitantly and reading her name tag said quietly:

“Yes Star. I like that tea.”
“Well, I will be seeing you again soon Joe… and dear little Kitty. Take care.”
Leaving the grocery store Dad was confused. He asked Kitty if Star was friends with Mom. Kitty didn’t think so. Should she tell Dad about that time with the egg? She and Mom were in the checkout and Star had slipped Kitty a mini chocolate egg while stroking Mom’s
bag of dark roast? Mom had seen Star handing Kitty the chocolate egg and gasped. Mom was so angry that she was swearing as she slammed the shopping cart out the exit and grabbed the egg from Kitty hurling it into the garbage bin. “Stay away from that woman!”
she said. “Don’t take anything she gives you. Don’t even look at her.” Kitty didn’t know how to tell that story to Dad so she just said,”I don’t know if Star was ever mom’s friend.”
Soon as they got home Dad rushed to make himself a pot of lemon ginger tea. He fidgeted while it steeped and gulped it down hot. Then he had another cup and slipped it slowly. An unpleasant scent of tea filled the kitchen. Kitty felt strange. Why did the tea 2 smell rotten? Why was Daddy just sitting there staring intently at his teacup? It was weird to see him sit so still for so long. Usually he was up doing stuff. It was like what happened to Mommy when she started drinking pots of coffee. It was getting late, way past dinner time. Kitty’s stomach rumbled. Where was Mommy? Where was dinner? Oh of course,
stupid Kitty, Mommy was lying still buried in the cemetery and Dad did not want to talk about it. Tears began running down Kitty’s cheeks. She wished Daddy would notice and hug her. Finally he looked up and reached to gently touch her cheek. Then he handed her the well-used box of Kleenex and moved to the counter to air fry steaks and instant french fries. Kitty didn’t usually like steak, but it was late and she was hungry. They ate quickly without talking. By the time dinner was over and she had helped load the dishwasher it
was time to get ready for bed.
“Go upstairs Kitty and brush your teeth. I’ll clean up here and come up soon to tuck you in.”
“Yes daddy.”
Kitty didn’t want to leave Daddy but she followed the rules. While she was changing into her pjs she heard the doorbell ring. A woman was at the door talking to Dad.
“I was just walking down the street and noticed you in the kitchen. Come out to the yard for a minute Joe. The moon is so full and bright.”
“Oh Star, what a surprise. Yes I’ll grab my jacket.”
“Tell Kitty you’ll be up soon to tuck her in.”
“Yes, sure … .Hey Kitty sweety, I’m just going out to the garden for a minute.
I’ll be up soon to tuck you in.”
Kitty thought Dad’s voice sounded strange. She felt an urge to run downstairs and pull him back from the front door. She needed to say “ Don’t go outside dad. Please, please, stay with me.” But her legs were frozen. She stood there next to her bed stumbling to pull on her pjs. “Daddy, I need you daddy.” Silently she crept to the window and peered outside through the curtains. Why was she so frightened to look down in her own yard?
She was almost terrified to see Dad with that Star woman. The moon was so bright that the trees were sparkling. There stood Dad speaking to a dark lady. He was looking at Star, not at the moon. He put his arms around her. She seemed to melt as he pulled her close to
him and kissed her deeply. Kitty had never seen Daddy kiss Mommy like that and she wondered why she couldn’t stop shaking. She felt a stab of pain as she saw Star look up at the window. Star’s eyes stared right at her and flashed blue. Then Star’s whole body turned smokey and faded away. Kitty stumbled back from the window gasping. It was
coming for her next. She needed to hide. She couldn’t escape outside to the yard. The thing was there. If she crawled under the bed it would find her. Where could she go?
Mommy once told her, “If ever danger comes you must quickly hide in the closet and not say a word.” Then Kitty had watched Mommy take a small velvet bag from her pocket and sprinkled dust from the bag all around the closet door. Was the dust still there? Would the
door shut tight?
Kitty heard the front house door open and heavy footsteps crossed the living room and started up the stairs. Maybe it was daddy coming like he said he would. But why did it feel dangerous like something was coming to kill her? And she knew this time she would not go to heaven. She squatted in the closet making herself small.Her head was
pounding and she bit back a sob. Mommy said to stay quiet in the closet. Footsteps were coming down the hall. Her bedroom door opened. The daddy person sighed. “Kitty sweety, it’s me, why are you hiding?” It sounded just like Daddy and Kitty was about to fling open
the closet door and rush to hug him. But something stopped her. He didn’t smell like Daddy. He smelled like knife sharp smoke. “Come out darling. It’s time for bed.” He stepped over to the closet and reached for the door knob but something stopped him.
“O.K. sweety. We’ll play it your way.” He squatted down close to the closet door and spoke in his gentle loving voice. “It’s safe to come out now Sweety. Come to bed and we’ll talk.”
Through the keyhole Kitty could see daddy’s kind face and bright blue eyes. Tears poured down Kitty’s cheeks. She knew her daddy had green eyes.