Dragon Quest Diaries #2

Image Credit: Leidy E., Spartanburg, SC The author's comments: See description for #1 Dearest Journal, I did wonderfully down in the mortal town of Angel Falls today. However, as soon as I got there, someone was speaking of me. It sounded as if he was doubting the Celestrians’ existence. It was a slightly rotten little mortal named Ivor, speaking with his friend, Hugo. Ivor was telling poor, patient Hugo that he could’ve sworn the name on the guardian statue in the town had said Aquila before, and that now it says Arabella. How odd that a mere human would notice such a thing, it is meant for them to forget when a new Celestrian obtains responsibility of the town. Anyhow, I gave him a little… tap on the back of the head. A young boy in the village asked me to after all, and Almighty, he needed it. After that slight run-in I hovered over to the church, where an older woman was searching for a ring. I took it on as my personal responsibility as the town guardian to find it, and oddly enough, it was a small brown dog on the other side of the bridge that helped me. I’m not one to take assumptions on whether or not the dog could sense my presence, but no sooner did I walk up to it, that it walked over to exactly the spot where the woman’s ring was. Fancy that. After helping the woman, I cleaned out an older man’s stable for him. Rather disgusting work, but I did gather some benevolessence, and I made the poor guy happy. As soon as I left the stable, I saw Aquila awaiting me on the bridge. I was a little distraught that he felt the need to check up on my work, but of course I could not be rude. Aquila informed me that I was doing well, but that I had to remember not only to help living mortals, but non-living as well. When I gave him a strange look, he pointed out a ghost standing to the left of the bridge and nodded for me to go to it. As I walked over to it, the ghost seemed rather happy to see me. “No one else has bothered to give me the time of day recently,” he said sadly. I politely informed him that the reason could possibly be because he was dead, and he was quite surprised. “Well… I had no idea. I guess I can stop hanging around here, and move on then, eh?” I smiled and nodded as the ghost-man flew gently into the sky in a beautiful cloud of blue. Lovely thing, the decent into heaven is. I returned to the bridge where Aquila stood, hoping he’d be pleased. “Good work, Arabella. I was right about you being ready for this.” He said distractedly, obviously only half paying attention. He was looking up to the sky at something. I looked up and saw a rectangular golden figure with a shine to it, shooting through the starry sky. I heard the whistle and knew that it was the Starflight Express, a flying train that’s supposed to be for the emergency transport of Celestrians. I’ve heard many rumors that its even run by fairies, fancy that. Aquila pulled himself out of the daze and stated that we should get back to the observary. Nodding silently, I pushed my white wings to the ground, propelling me upward. Flying is quite a perk of being a Celestrian. Feeling the wind through your hair and the freedom of soaring… there’s really nothing that could ever compare to it. I’m not sure what I would do without my lovely wings, but I know life wouldn’t be quite so grand. Flying up into the observary, Aquila turned to me and said, “I’ll report to Apus Major myself. You simply come up to Yggdrasil to offer the bennevolance when you’re ready,” I nodded in respect before dashing to my quarters. I simply had to jot down what had happened before I go up to the world tree. Yggdrasil should have just enough bennevolance now to bear the fruits, Fyggs, so this shall be an important night. I think I’ll even bring you with me in case I should need to go somewhere. Wish me luck on a big night. Love, Arabella



MIRIAM STEIN: Pizza

When I was 62, I ordered a pizza to go. “Ready in fifteen minutes,” the teenaged server mumbled. Returning to pay, I remembered I forgot To request the reduced price for elders. “Is it too late to ask for the senior discount?” “I already gave it to you,” he said. Miriam Stein is a social … Continue reading MIRIAM STEIN: Pizza →

STORY OF THE WEEK: March 17

The story of the week for March 11 to 15 is… Anniversary by Susan Gale Wickes

RAN WALKER: Behind His Back

Shortly after Greg woke to discover his vertebrae had permanently fused with his wife’s while they’d slept, he became curious if she had been complaining to her friends about him behind his back. When she awoke screaming, desperate to pull away from him, he smiled, realizing it didn’t matter anymore. Ran Walker is burrowing himself … Continue reading RAN WALKER: Behind His Back →

DAVID DEREY: Whipped

“Whipped!” we used to shout, mocking him, all those times he couldn’t join on bar nights. When he could, she’d always call him home early. Those phone calls cracked us up. We made women’s voices, and passionately screamed his name while he shushed us. “Hanged,” police told us one day. David Derey wrote this story.

ANNE M LOGAN: Tranquility

She prepared her coffee, added her favorite creamer, carried it to her sitting place, placed her coffee, picked up her chosen pen and journal. Nesting into her tranquil spot, she turned to the blank page. Suddenly, the phone rang. “Hello.” “Is this Kate Morgan?” “Yes.” “We hate to inform you…” Anne Logan is a consultant, … Continue reading ANNE M LOGAN: Tranquility →