The Hospital Morgue

It was cold, really cold in here she thought. She threw off the blanket and tried to sit up. She rammed her head against the ceiling. Was she dreaming? She sat up again scrunching down to avoid hitting her head. The ceiling was maybe two feet from the bed. She felt around in the darkness and only felt the cold sides of this room she was in or better yet this box she was in. What the heck was happening. She started to shake and then screamed as loud as she could. Nothing, no one! Her neck throbbed as if it had been torn open. She tried to figure a way out of this cold box but she could not find a latch on what appeared to be a door at the end of the long box. Then a thought struck her. Was she in a coffin? Was she buried alive? She screamed again. Nothing! Oh my God, Oh My God she thought I have been buried alive. Who would do this? How did they do it? She did not remember much from the party the night before. All she remembered was dancing and drinking and people dressed in crazy costumes. She had spent weeks deciding the perfect costume for the Halloween party. She had found the delicate white silk dress at a thrift store and then splattered it with fake blood. She had painstakingly painted on the bite marks for her costume. She had gotten so many compliments on her Vampire's Victims costume. Then the very good looking guy dressed as Dracula had found her. She was sure it was true love, they had spent the entire evening together. But then it all went hazy and she could not remember the rest of the evening and now she was buried alive in this steel box. She began to scream and kick and cry and then light at the end of the tunnel. She was slowly pulled out of the steel box. She blinked at the bright light. Looking around she saw that she was in a hospital morgue. She sat up touched her neck and realized that the bite marks were not the result of her make-up. He was standing with his hand held out for her. She put her hand in his and stood up.

" Ah my little victim, the night is ours." Dracula said

The Queens Law

The Queen stood on the small balcony over looking the parade area. She was pleased, the preparations for tomorrows celebration were almost complete and every thing looked wonderful. She turned and walked back into the palace with a satisfied smile on her face. She decide to retire to her rooms for the evening and prepare herself for the next days celebration. She slept that night secure in herself and the laws she had set forth for this land. She was ,to her mind, a wonderful leader and tomorrows celebration would reinforce all the good that had happened since she had come to power.
The next morning she dressed with care in her brilliant blue sparkly frock and proceeded to the same balcony on which she had observed the preparations the day before. The parade ground was crowded with her subjects and a loud cheer went up when she stepped out on the balcony. This was it, the culmination of everything she had just spent the last year doing. A celebration of her first year as Queen. When she had passed her first decree she was uncertain how her people would take it but they had accepted it without reserve and once that decree had been put into action and all the humans eliminated it was easier to impose her rule on her subjects.
She stepped forward to the railing of the balcony raised her hand for silence and a hush fell over the crowd. " Friends, Robots and countrymen lend me your audio sensors......"

Dream Job

What do you do for a living he asked? She looked at him seriously and said, " I sell world Peace." he laughed thinking she was joking, " No really what do you do?" It was the same every time, they always laughed, no one ever took her seriously. But what she said was the truth, although admittedly she did say it to be cute and funny. It invariably worked, people laughed and thought she was charming and clever. She would then explain she was a fundraiser for an organization that was working toward the ultimate goal of world peace by eradicating poverty, etc, etc. They would nod their head and say the same thing, " Who doesn't want world peace." So she used the line often and the result was always the same, but she believed most people really did not get it, that the idea of real World Peace was so foreign to them that they could never understand that when she said it she really meant it. Sometimes at night she would fall asleep thinking about all the things that needed to be done at work and just like any job there were little annoyances she had to take care off and as she fell asleep sometimes these would be in her head but as she dreamed on those nights it was never about the annoyances but about a world full of peace and happiness for everyone, she knew it was a cliche but when she awoke on those mornings after such dreams she felt energized and would smile into her cereal bowl in the morning thinking about how best to sell her product.

Sorry, No Scribble

The teacher had written this on his first piece of art that fateful day in first grade. When he read it his little mind rebelled. Who was she to judge that his scribble was not art. So from that day forward he refused to draw anything but scribbles. They were beautiful in there simplicity. Each time his drawings would come back with comments about his scribbling when he was asked to draw a house or his family. He did not care his teacher was a philistine. In High School his scribblings got darker and richer with color, but all the while he continued to fail every art class he took. But he cared not for their F's and continued to scribble his heart out. Perhaps no one would ever see what he saw in those beautiful colorful scribbles. In college he continued with his art. Having given up hope that anyone would recognize the true beauty of his work he was surprised to be asked to exhibit his art in the annual College Art Show. When he won the first prize he was even more Surprised. 15 Years later he was still surprised of his success. His Art sold for millions and was displayed in every major Art Museum in the world. That first Art Teacher had even sent him a note after his first major exhibit. " I was wrong, scribble all you want!"