Revelation
by Melody Chen
I have seen the world as it is but I have not yet seen the world as a giver. I hear the slight murmur
of groan and thud beneath the earth − yearning to utter its language that the haughty two-legs,
treading upon its head, has turned its back. It is not quite right to not comprehend the language of
the world that has governed all bodies of moving, existential things. Just like you and me, we
have not found this ultimate revelation that has been coded in our genes. The irony of the
intuitive, superior object of interest has, in reality, been Earth's revelation all along − the
deviation of her own intended making. Or rather, can we turn things around? We have
discovered to extend our bodies 238,900 miles away to the moon. We have discovered the key to
unlocking the way out of influenza. We have discovered mathematics, marched the path of
history, and composed music and literature. Nevertheless, discovery is different from revelation.
The act of discovery terminates at a certain point of your life, but revelation exceeds a human's
life (possible for eternity). What if an acquisition of that one language of the world would end
world extreme poverty? The world would definitely have more altruism and empathy. What if
we can end racial, gender, or any stereotypes? We can if we acknowledge that we are all 100%
interconnected with our species and the biosphere. The universe is, indeed, a string that ties the
living and earth. The world, moreover, is a surreptitious giver that we have yet to pronounce
known. By treading in someone's shoes or exploring the great outdoors, the world would
definitely be a rather kind place to appreciate.
of groan and thud beneath the earth − yearning to utter its language that the haughty two-legs,
treading upon its head, has turned its back. It is not quite right to not comprehend the language of
the world that has governed all bodies of moving, existential things. Just like you and me, we
have not found this ultimate revelation that has been coded in our genes. The irony of the
intuitive, superior object of interest has, in reality, been Earth's revelation all along − the
deviation of her own intended making. Or rather, can we turn things around? We have
discovered to extend our bodies 238,900 miles away to the moon. We have discovered the key to
unlocking the way out of influenza. We have discovered mathematics, marched the path of
history, and composed music and literature. Nevertheless, discovery is different from revelation.
The act of discovery terminates at a certain point of your life, but revelation exceeds a human's
life (possible for eternity). What if an acquisition of that one language of the world would end
world extreme poverty? The world would definitely have more altruism and empathy. What if
we can end racial, gender, or any stereotypes? We can if we acknowledge that we are all 100%
interconnected with our species and the biosphere. The universe is, indeed, a string that ties the
living and earth. The world, moreover, is a surreptitious giver that we have yet to pronounce
known. By treading in someone's shoes or exploring the great outdoors, the world would
definitely be a rather kind place to appreciate.
The Hunted
by Cassandra Phan
“Are you sure we’re safe here?”
Silvester peeked out from behind plaid curtains. The wall of aged evergreen trees with creaking branches would be their guardians. Silvester tore his eyes away to place them on a graying woman with leaves and flowers clinging to her hair.
“Are you sure you weren’t followed?” The old woman shot back. Silvester crossed his arms with a frown as the old woman hobbled to a kettle. As she made her way to a petite patio table, the air became infused with cocoa undertones. The woman set two steaming mugs in front of her other guests. A much younger woman with striking gray eyes and reddish freckles to match her cropped hair sat across from an impish man with shaggy brown locks.
“Thank you Mrs. Dwi,” murmured the young woman.
“Ah, I’m delighted honey,” crooned Mrs. Dwi, “now tell me again, was Lizzie your name?”
“Liza.”
Mrs. Dwi took a seat and faced the impish man.
“And your name again?”
“Osvaldo.”
“Well that’s no Andrew or Susy. You must be foreign.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Well I’ve traveled all over the world as you probably already know,” the old woman winked, “only one reason you’d come out all this way to meet a kook.”
Liza nodded and produced a worn book with duct tape covering the title. Liza pulled back the tape to reveal glittering cursive underneath.
The Glossary of Misunderstood Magical Creatures
Mrs. Dwi squealed with delight.
“We have some questions about your book,” Osvaldo said.
“Not just about my book,” the woman interrupted, “but about my fourth guest too. Bring him out. I want to see him.”
Silvester swore and feverishly ran around the room checking locked doors and curtained windows.
“Settle down you nervous wreck and trust me,” Mrs. Dwi said, “there’s no one for a hundred miles to knock on that door. And the forest is so dense, no drone is going to peek through those windows.” Mrs. Dwi’s assurances didn’t satisfy Silvester, but he rested against the wall and cracked his knuckles. Mrs. Dwi turned back to Osvaldo who had fetched something from his knapsack.
“Oh he’s beautiful! Where did you find him?”
The “he” in question was a jet black baby dragon with gleaming, golden horns who was nestled in Osvaldo’s arms, purring. Osvaldo passed the dragon to Mrs. Dwi’s arms. The dragon sleepily picked his head up and unraveled. His eyes were a shimmering gold and mystified Mrs. Dwi.
“Where did you find him?”
The 3 human guests glanced at each other. Silvester’s frowns became darker and his body racked with nerves. Finally, Liza piped up.
“The Department of Unknown Anomalies. Property of the United States Government.”
That information gave Mrs. Dwi quite a start. Minutes later she was still thinking so strenuously of the matter that she didn’t notice the dragon had climbed out of her lap and began to roll around in the blankets piled on her bed. It wasn’t until the dragon began to screech did Mrs. Dwi’s senses return to reality. The poor thing had gotten wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. He was frantically rolling around, blind and confused. Mrs. Dwi went to her bedside, cooing. She stopped when she heard a cough coming from the blanket. There it was again. And another one. And another one. Mrs. Dwi peered curiously at the pile until she jumped back in alarm. The blankets had caught fire. The fire grew with such speed and strength that the blankets were soon turned to ash and the fire had spread to the bed’s wooden frame. Silvester sprung into action. He grabbed the fire extinguisher from a shelf on his left, pulled the pin, and aimed. The only thing left was the dragon sitting on the bed frame, surrounded by a pile of ash. A jangling came from Liza’s seat. The dragon made his way to the table were Liza had some keys. She gave them to the dragon along with a spoon to amuse himself with.
“He likes shiny objects,” Liza explained.
“Well of course he does honey,” Mrs. Dwi nodded, “he’s a dragon.” Mrs. Dwi then picked up her book, flipped through some pages, and began to read.
Most dragons I’ve come across are traditional dragons in the misguided sense. Huge, bat-winged, and fire breathers. Dragons do guard treasures its true. But this act is not done out of greed. Dragons have no use for treasures. They cannot eat it nor drink it nor does it bring them pleasure. Dragons are much smarter than humans and are thus not tempted by the follies of mankind. Contrary to popular belief, dragons are hoarders of gold for the good of mankind. It is a dragon’s duty to guard treasure from man because they know that should mankind ever possess the treasures of the world, their greed would destroy all. Perhaps one day, man may prove themselves worthy and the dragons may allow them access to their guarded wonders. But we have failed this countlessely in the past, and personally, the future seems to be no different.
Mrs. Dwi closed the book and folded her hands over it.
“We already know what’s written in the book,” Silvester snapped, “we didn’t come all this way to hear you repeat the same information.”
“Do not bark at me young man,” Mrs. Dwi warned, “you are a guest in my house.”
“Oh I’m sorry,” Silvester said, his voice growing shrill, “why don’t we sit around and have some more tea and cookies!”
“Silvester,” Osvaldo scolded, “calm down. I’m sorry Mrs. Dwi. I do have some simple questions though. How do we transport a dragon? How do they find treasures?” Mrs. Dwi began to reply but was interrupted.
“This is bad,” Silvester babbled, “this is very bad.”
“You’ve said that before,” Osvaldo said, staring at his lap.
“Well it seemed worth repeating because no one seems to give a damn about the fact that we are currently being hunted by the US government!”
“We’re perfectly aware of that,” Liza said, “that’s why we’re here.”
“I had my doubts about coming here,” Osvaldo said, “we did find your book sitting in the fiction section.”
“Those monsters,” Mrs. Dwi muttered, “I have told them a thousand times but they think I am just some old kook who writes well.”
“Anyways,” Mrs. Dwi continued, “what can I tell you.”
“It’s more what you can do for us,” Liza said, “we want you to hide and protect the dragon.”
“You ask too much.”
“Mrs. Dwi, we have no other options,” Liza begged, “we don’t kn-”
“I don’t need the US government breaking down my door,” Mrs. Dwi clutched her head, “and I can not have a dragon living with me! I live in a wooden house in the middle of a forest if you had not noticed.”
“What are we supposed to do with him then?” Silvester began to pace.
“Why don’t we go to Argentina like I suggested in the first place,” Osvaldo said, “I know a guy there who would be happy to care for the dragon.”
“Whatever the plan is one thing is for certain, we can not let the government take him back,” Mrs. Dwi said tracing a puckered scar on the dragon’s back, “look at what they do to him.”
“Actually,” Liza chuckled nervously, “that’s my fault.” Mrs. Dwi stared at her incredulously.
“I oversaw the research of magical creatures,” Liza explained, “I said yes to the experiments we did on them. Though looking back now, I realize it’s more like torture.”
“Them,” Mrs. Dwi asked, “there are more dragons?”
“No, he’s the only one,” Liza said, “but there are other creatures. Faes, warlocks, gnomes, mermaids, the list goes on. The fairy tales from our childhoods, the monsters, the magic, the creatures...they’re all real. When the government realized this, they spent a great deal of resources tracking creatures down. It was for the good of the world, they told me. Experimenting on these creatures would help us understand them and be less afraid. Keeping it a secret from the public would help prevent chaos.”
Mrs. Dwi was cradling the dragon.
“And you believed them?”
“I did,” Liza replied, “I understood that the public wouldn’t be able to handle the information. We can’t even handle the differences in our own species. Do you really think we would have any peace if they found out there were other creatures with powers they couldn’t understand. We’re still the same people who burned witches at the stake.” A realization hit Mrs. Dwi and she glanced wearily at her guests.
“Do you all work for the government?”
Silvester and Osvaldo bowed their heads. That was a yes.
“We’ve severed out ties to them,” Silvester explained, “we’re trying to do the right thing for once. We want to help these creatures. Even if it’s only saving one dragon.”
“You have to go off the grid,” Mrs. Dwi began, “I have a special diary about my travels. What I learned from each creature. What they eat, their abilities. All of the information you will need to take care of the dragon.”
“Wait,” Silvester interrupted, “that’s not the plan.”
“But it’s the only way,” Mrs. Dwi replied, “you want to right some wrongs and save this dragon you have to sacrifice some luxuries.”
“Luxuries! We’re talking about our entire lives,” Silvester argued, “We’re supposed to give up on our friends and family? Future spouses and children? Bowling and movie theaters? I’m not that much of a hero.”
“I’m in.” Liza stared straight ahead but her voice never wavered.
Osvaldo never said a word. He just stared at his lap. Silvester thought he saw his hands twitch. No, there was definitely something there. It seemed to be emitting a faint glow. Silvester careened towards him to get a better look.
“What are you doing? Is that a phone?”
Osvaldo jumped up, trying to shove the phone in his pocket. Silvester grabbed his wrists to keep him from doing just that. They began shoving each other and wrestling. Silvester reaching desperately for the phone while Osvaldo attempted to shield it. The dragon became so alarmed that it began scratching wildly at the wall and shooting little puffs of flame at it. Mrs. Dwi sprang at the dragon. She pried him away from the wall and stroked him in an effort to calm him down. Liza grabbed the fire extinguisher to make sure they did not die in an inferno.
Osvaldo and Silvester were still struggling for the phone in the middle of the room. Osvaldo used one arm to hold Silvester back and the other held the phone at a distance from Silvester’s outreached hand.
“This has gone on long enough,” Liza said as she yanked the phone from Osvaldo’s hand. Silvester shoved Osvaldo off of him and Liza handed him the phone.
“You’re such an idiot! You know they can track these,” Silvester yelled, “are you trying to spend the rest of your life in prison?”
Osvaldo lunged at Silvester. Liza swung the fire extinguisher like a baseball bat and hit Osvaldo square in the face. He crumpled to the floor. The dragon squaked in Mrs. Dwi’s arms and flapped his wings. Mrs. Dwi gave the dragon to Liza. The dragon climbed onto Liza’s shoulders and wrapped himself around her neck.
Silvester scrolled through Osvaldo’s phone. His eyes flashed with rage as they scanned the messages.
“What was he hiding?” Liza eyed Osvaldo’s body warily, fire extinguisher in hand.
“He planned to sell the dragon to the highest bidder.”
“I told you we shouldn’t have trusted him,” Liza replied, “who has an escape plan ready on a rooftop?”
“He said he admired what we were doing and wanted to help,” Silvester argued, “and we didn’t have many options on that roof.”
“Are you defending him?”
“No, but what I am doing is freaking out!”
“We have to do the right thing,” Liza said stroking his tail, “we’re responsible for all of the pain he’s had to go through. We need to protect him. We need go somewhere far away where the government can’t find us.”
“I don’t want to go far away,” Silvester was hysterical, “I don’t want to be on the run.”
“What are we going to do then,” Liza said, “just sit here and wait for the government to find us? Are you just going to curl into a ball and wish it away? Are you goi-”
“Maybe I’ll just leave!”
Silvester took a couple of steps backwards. He was panting. Liza turned around, the blow from his words was too much to bear. She didn’t want this to end with her being all alone.
Mrs. Dwi sat with her face in her hands. She was just trying to live out the end of her days peacefully. Then, Mrs. Dwi perked up and spoke.
“Maybe you don’t have to sacrifice everything.”
Liza kept her back turned but Silvester looked at her curiously. Mrs. Dwi rummaged around her pots and pans before triumphantly revealing a leather journal with a huge purple stain on the cover.
“This,” she began, waving the journal in the air, “is the private diary I kept while globe trotting and meeting all sorts of magical creatures.” Silvester glanced at the journal in confusion.
“How is that supposed to help us get the government off our backs?” Mrs. Dwi whacked him in the arm with the journal.
“If you could stay quiet for a few breaths I’ll tell you.” Silvester bit his lip to keep himself from responding.
“On my travels, I met a dragon.” At this proclamation, Liza turned around. Mrs. Dwi smiled at her and continued.
“And this dragon was a full grown, monstrous beauty. Big enough to crush a whole town underfoot I’d say. She was marvelous. Absolutely stunning.” Mrs. Dwi had drifted off into memories and Liza and Silvester waited with bated breath.
“If you could find her, I’m sure she’ll hide you all and care for the baby. That way you don’t have to hide forever.”
“Mrs. Dwi that’s wonderful news,” Liza gushed, “why didn’t you tell us this earlier?”
“I promised her that I’d keep her existence a secret. I promised her that I wouldn’t reveal her location so that she could live in peace,” Mrs. Dwi replied, “but this baby dragon needs someone to look after him.”
Silvester hadn’t made a sound since Mrs. Dwi’s announcement. He was still pondering his decision and the monumental consequences when Mrs. Dwi’s landline phone gave a sharp ring, startling every creature in the room. Mrs. Dwi gingerly picked up the phone. Silvester did not dare meet Liza’s eyes.
Mrs. Dwi’s phone call was not going well. The longer she listened on the phone, the more fretful she grew. She paced the room, bit her nails, and tore at her hair. Mrs. Dwi ended the call with a quick thank you before turning to her guests.
“You have to leave,” she said staring at the dragon then to Osvaldo’s body, “quickly.” Silvester stayed rooted until he got an explanation.
“Who was that on the phone? What did they tell you?” Mrs. Dwi peeked out of several windows before she spoke.
“That was a close friend from town. He said a bunch of black vehicles just pulled in. There are agents who are questioning the town folk, and they are headed towards the forest.” Silvester’s face became pale.
“Shit.”
“That’s right honey,” Mrs. Dwi hobbled over to Silvester, pressing the journal into his hands, “now you have to make a decision. Quickly please, we’re on a clock.” Silvester stared at the journal, weighing the consequences in his mind. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
“You wanted to do the right thing for once in your life,” Liza whispered, “do it again. Please.”
The dragon stood on Liza’s shoulder and stared straight into the depths of Silvester’s eyes. The dragon smiled triumphantly because he knew the answer. Liza breathed a sigh of relief and clapped him on the shoulder.
“What do we do with him?” Silvester nudged Osvaldo’s body.
“If we leave him to the government he’ll spill on everything,” Liza said.
“Yes he will,” Silvester crouched down, “but we can’t take him with us.”
“There’s not much to do about the matter,” Mrs. Dwi said, “you’ll have to leave him here and hope he gets amnesia.”
“What about you?” Liza made her way to the old woman and took her hands.
“I’ll slow you down,” Mrs. Dwi replied, “you’ll have to leave me here.” She pushed a key into Liza’s hands.
“I’ve got a car hidden in the forest about 5 minutes due north,” Mrs. Dwi explained, “and don’t you worry your head about the things I’ll reveal Silvester. I am an old lady prone to forgetfulness.” She winked. Mrs. Dwi faced the dragon and stroked his head. He nuzzled against her.
“Goodbye little one, “ she murmured, “I hope you find peace.” Silvester gave a nod and the three guests stepped out the back door. Liza cradled the dragon while Silvester thumbed the journal’s pages.
“I’ve always wanted to see the world,” Liza said. Silvester looked at her and then at the dragon.
“We will,” he said while petting the dragon’s head. Liza stared into the trees.
“The greatest adventure of our lives,” she murmured.
“And the most dangerous one,” Silvester replied.
Together, they plunged into the forest.
Silvester peeked out from behind plaid curtains. The wall of aged evergreen trees with creaking branches would be their guardians. Silvester tore his eyes away to place them on a graying woman with leaves and flowers clinging to her hair.
“Are you sure you weren’t followed?” The old woman shot back. Silvester crossed his arms with a frown as the old woman hobbled to a kettle. As she made her way to a petite patio table, the air became infused with cocoa undertones. The woman set two steaming mugs in front of her other guests. A much younger woman with striking gray eyes and reddish freckles to match her cropped hair sat across from an impish man with shaggy brown locks.
“Thank you Mrs. Dwi,” murmured the young woman.
“Ah, I’m delighted honey,” crooned Mrs. Dwi, “now tell me again, was Lizzie your name?”
“Liza.”
Mrs. Dwi took a seat and faced the impish man.
“And your name again?”
“Osvaldo.”
“Well that’s no Andrew or Susy. You must be foreign.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Well I’ve traveled all over the world as you probably already know,” the old woman winked, “only one reason you’d come out all this way to meet a kook.”
Liza nodded and produced a worn book with duct tape covering the title. Liza pulled back the tape to reveal glittering cursive underneath.
The Glossary of Misunderstood Magical Creatures
Mrs. Dwi squealed with delight.
“We have some questions about your book,” Osvaldo said.
“Not just about my book,” the woman interrupted, “but about my fourth guest too. Bring him out. I want to see him.”
Silvester swore and feverishly ran around the room checking locked doors and curtained windows.
“Settle down you nervous wreck and trust me,” Mrs. Dwi said, “there’s no one for a hundred miles to knock on that door. And the forest is so dense, no drone is going to peek through those windows.” Mrs. Dwi’s assurances didn’t satisfy Silvester, but he rested against the wall and cracked his knuckles. Mrs. Dwi turned back to Osvaldo who had fetched something from his knapsack.
“Oh he’s beautiful! Where did you find him?”
The “he” in question was a jet black baby dragon with gleaming, golden horns who was nestled in Osvaldo’s arms, purring. Osvaldo passed the dragon to Mrs. Dwi’s arms. The dragon sleepily picked his head up and unraveled. His eyes were a shimmering gold and mystified Mrs. Dwi.
“Where did you find him?”
The 3 human guests glanced at each other. Silvester’s frowns became darker and his body racked with nerves. Finally, Liza piped up.
“The Department of Unknown Anomalies. Property of the United States Government.”
That information gave Mrs. Dwi quite a start. Minutes later she was still thinking so strenuously of the matter that she didn’t notice the dragon had climbed out of her lap and began to roll around in the blankets piled on her bed. It wasn’t until the dragon began to screech did Mrs. Dwi’s senses return to reality. The poor thing had gotten wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. He was frantically rolling around, blind and confused. Mrs. Dwi went to her bedside, cooing. She stopped when she heard a cough coming from the blanket. There it was again. And another one. And another one. Mrs. Dwi peered curiously at the pile until she jumped back in alarm. The blankets had caught fire. The fire grew with such speed and strength that the blankets were soon turned to ash and the fire had spread to the bed’s wooden frame. Silvester sprung into action. He grabbed the fire extinguisher from a shelf on his left, pulled the pin, and aimed. The only thing left was the dragon sitting on the bed frame, surrounded by a pile of ash. A jangling came from Liza’s seat. The dragon made his way to the table were Liza had some keys. She gave them to the dragon along with a spoon to amuse himself with.
“He likes shiny objects,” Liza explained.
“Well of course he does honey,” Mrs. Dwi nodded, “he’s a dragon.” Mrs. Dwi then picked up her book, flipped through some pages, and began to read.
Most dragons I’ve come across are traditional dragons in the misguided sense. Huge, bat-winged, and fire breathers. Dragons do guard treasures its true. But this act is not done out of greed. Dragons have no use for treasures. They cannot eat it nor drink it nor does it bring them pleasure. Dragons are much smarter than humans and are thus not tempted by the follies of mankind. Contrary to popular belief, dragons are hoarders of gold for the good of mankind. It is a dragon’s duty to guard treasure from man because they know that should mankind ever possess the treasures of the world, their greed would destroy all. Perhaps one day, man may prove themselves worthy and the dragons may allow them access to their guarded wonders. But we have failed this countlessely in the past, and personally, the future seems to be no different.
Mrs. Dwi closed the book and folded her hands over it.
“We already know what’s written in the book,” Silvester snapped, “we didn’t come all this way to hear you repeat the same information.”
“Do not bark at me young man,” Mrs. Dwi warned, “you are a guest in my house.”
“Oh I’m sorry,” Silvester said, his voice growing shrill, “why don’t we sit around and have some more tea and cookies!”
“Silvester,” Osvaldo scolded, “calm down. I’m sorry Mrs. Dwi. I do have some simple questions though. How do we transport a dragon? How do they find treasures?” Mrs. Dwi began to reply but was interrupted.
“This is bad,” Silvester babbled, “this is very bad.”
“You’ve said that before,” Osvaldo said, staring at his lap.
“Well it seemed worth repeating because no one seems to give a damn about the fact that we are currently being hunted by the US government!”
“We’re perfectly aware of that,” Liza said, “that’s why we’re here.”
“I had my doubts about coming here,” Osvaldo said, “we did find your book sitting in the fiction section.”
“Those monsters,” Mrs. Dwi muttered, “I have told them a thousand times but they think I am just some old kook who writes well.”
“Anyways,” Mrs. Dwi continued, “what can I tell you.”
“It’s more what you can do for us,” Liza said, “we want you to hide and protect the dragon.”
“You ask too much.”
“Mrs. Dwi, we have no other options,” Liza begged, “we don’t kn-”
“I don’t need the US government breaking down my door,” Mrs. Dwi clutched her head, “and I can not have a dragon living with me! I live in a wooden house in the middle of a forest if you had not noticed.”
“What are we supposed to do with him then?” Silvester began to pace.
“Why don’t we go to Argentina like I suggested in the first place,” Osvaldo said, “I know a guy there who would be happy to care for the dragon.”
“Whatever the plan is one thing is for certain, we can not let the government take him back,” Mrs. Dwi said tracing a puckered scar on the dragon’s back, “look at what they do to him.”
“Actually,” Liza chuckled nervously, “that’s my fault.” Mrs. Dwi stared at her incredulously.
“I oversaw the research of magical creatures,” Liza explained, “I said yes to the experiments we did on them. Though looking back now, I realize it’s more like torture.”
“Them,” Mrs. Dwi asked, “there are more dragons?”
“No, he’s the only one,” Liza said, “but there are other creatures. Faes, warlocks, gnomes, mermaids, the list goes on. The fairy tales from our childhoods, the monsters, the magic, the creatures...they’re all real. When the government realized this, they spent a great deal of resources tracking creatures down. It was for the good of the world, they told me. Experimenting on these creatures would help us understand them and be less afraid. Keeping it a secret from the public would help prevent chaos.”
Mrs. Dwi was cradling the dragon.
“And you believed them?”
“I did,” Liza replied, “I understood that the public wouldn’t be able to handle the information. We can’t even handle the differences in our own species. Do you really think we would have any peace if they found out there were other creatures with powers they couldn’t understand. We’re still the same people who burned witches at the stake.” A realization hit Mrs. Dwi and she glanced wearily at her guests.
“Do you all work for the government?”
Silvester and Osvaldo bowed their heads. That was a yes.
“We’ve severed out ties to them,” Silvester explained, “we’re trying to do the right thing for once. We want to help these creatures. Even if it’s only saving one dragon.”
“You have to go off the grid,” Mrs. Dwi began, “I have a special diary about my travels. What I learned from each creature. What they eat, their abilities. All of the information you will need to take care of the dragon.”
“Wait,” Silvester interrupted, “that’s not the plan.”
“But it’s the only way,” Mrs. Dwi replied, “you want to right some wrongs and save this dragon you have to sacrifice some luxuries.”
“Luxuries! We’re talking about our entire lives,” Silvester argued, “We’re supposed to give up on our friends and family? Future spouses and children? Bowling and movie theaters? I’m not that much of a hero.”
“I’m in.” Liza stared straight ahead but her voice never wavered.
Osvaldo never said a word. He just stared at his lap. Silvester thought he saw his hands twitch. No, there was definitely something there. It seemed to be emitting a faint glow. Silvester careened towards him to get a better look.
“What are you doing? Is that a phone?”
Osvaldo jumped up, trying to shove the phone in his pocket. Silvester grabbed his wrists to keep him from doing just that. They began shoving each other and wrestling. Silvester reaching desperately for the phone while Osvaldo attempted to shield it. The dragon became so alarmed that it began scratching wildly at the wall and shooting little puffs of flame at it. Mrs. Dwi sprang at the dragon. She pried him away from the wall and stroked him in an effort to calm him down. Liza grabbed the fire extinguisher to make sure they did not die in an inferno.
Osvaldo and Silvester were still struggling for the phone in the middle of the room. Osvaldo used one arm to hold Silvester back and the other held the phone at a distance from Silvester’s outreached hand.
“This has gone on long enough,” Liza said as she yanked the phone from Osvaldo’s hand. Silvester shoved Osvaldo off of him and Liza handed him the phone.
“You’re such an idiot! You know they can track these,” Silvester yelled, “are you trying to spend the rest of your life in prison?”
Osvaldo lunged at Silvester. Liza swung the fire extinguisher like a baseball bat and hit Osvaldo square in the face. He crumpled to the floor. The dragon squaked in Mrs. Dwi’s arms and flapped his wings. Mrs. Dwi gave the dragon to Liza. The dragon climbed onto Liza’s shoulders and wrapped himself around her neck.
Silvester scrolled through Osvaldo’s phone. His eyes flashed with rage as they scanned the messages.
“What was he hiding?” Liza eyed Osvaldo’s body warily, fire extinguisher in hand.
“He planned to sell the dragon to the highest bidder.”
“I told you we shouldn’t have trusted him,” Liza replied, “who has an escape plan ready on a rooftop?”
“He said he admired what we were doing and wanted to help,” Silvester argued, “and we didn’t have many options on that roof.”
“Are you defending him?”
“No, but what I am doing is freaking out!”
“We have to do the right thing,” Liza said stroking his tail, “we’re responsible for all of the pain he’s had to go through. We need to protect him. We need go somewhere far away where the government can’t find us.”
“I don’t want to go far away,” Silvester was hysterical, “I don’t want to be on the run.”
“What are we going to do then,” Liza said, “just sit here and wait for the government to find us? Are you just going to curl into a ball and wish it away? Are you goi-”
“Maybe I’ll just leave!”
Silvester took a couple of steps backwards. He was panting. Liza turned around, the blow from his words was too much to bear. She didn’t want this to end with her being all alone.
Mrs. Dwi sat with her face in her hands. She was just trying to live out the end of her days peacefully. Then, Mrs. Dwi perked up and spoke.
“Maybe you don’t have to sacrifice everything.”
Liza kept her back turned but Silvester looked at her curiously. Mrs. Dwi rummaged around her pots and pans before triumphantly revealing a leather journal with a huge purple stain on the cover.
“This,” she began, waving the journal in the air, “is the private diary I kept while globe trotting and meeting all sorts of magical creatures.” Silvester glanced at the journal in confusion.
“How is that supposed to help us get the government off our backs?” Mrs. Dwi whacked him in the arm with the journal.
“If you could stay quiet for a few breaths I’ll tell you.” Silvester bit his lip to keep himself from responding.
“On my travels, I met a dragon.” At this proclamation, Liza turned around. Mrs. Dwi smiled at her and continued.
“And this dragon was a full grown, monstrous beauty. Big enough to crush a whole town underfoot I’d say. She was marvelous. Absolutely stunning.” Mrs. Dwi had drifted off into memories and Liza and Silvester waited with bated breath.
“If you could find her, I’m sure she’ll hide you all and care for the baby. That way you don’t have to hide forever.”
“Mrs. Dwi that’s wonderful news,” Liza gushed, “why didn’t you tell us this earlier?”
“I promised her that I’d keep her existence a secret. I promised her that I wouldn’t reveal her location so that she could live in peace,” Mrs. Dwi replied, “but this baby dragon needs someone to look after him.”
Silvester hadn’t made a sound since Mrs. Dwi’s announcement. He was still pondering his decision and the monumental consequences when Mrs. Dwi’s landline phone gave a sharp ring, startling every creature in the room. Mrs. Dwi gingerly picked up the phone. Silvester did not dare meet Liza’s eyes.
Mrs. Dwi’s phone call was not going well. The longer she listened on the phone, the more fretful she grew. She paced the room, bit her nails, and tore at her hair. Mrs. Dwi ended the call with a quick thank you before turning to her guests.
“You have to leave,” she said staring at the dragon then to Osvaldo’s body, “quickly.” Silvester stayed rooted until he got an explanation.
“Who was that on the phone? What did they tell you?” Mrs. Dwi peeked out of several windows before she spoke.
“That was a close friend from town. He said a bunch of black vehicles just pulled in. There are agents who are questioning the town folk, and they are headed towards the forest.” Silvester’s face became pale.
“Shit.”
“That’s right honey,” Mrs. Dwi hobbled over to Silvester, pressing the journal into his hands, “now you have to make a decision. Quickly please, we’re on a clock.” Silvester stared at the journal, weighing the consequences in his mind. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
“You wanted to do the right thing for once in your life,” Liza whispered, “do it again. Please.”
The dragon stood on Liza’s shoulder and stared straight into the depths of Silvester’s eyes. The dragon smiled triumphantly because he knew the answer. Liza breathed a sigh of relief and clapped him on the shoulder.
“What do we do with him?” Silvester nudged Osvaldo’s body.
“If we leave him to the government he’ll spill on everything,” Liza said.
“Yes he will,” Silvester crouched down, “but we can’t take him with us.”
“There’s not much to do about the matter,” Mrs. Dwi said, “you’ll have to leave him here and hope he gets amnesia.”
“What about you?” Liza made her way to the old woman and took her hands.
“I’ll slow you down,” Mrs. Dwi replied, “you’ll have to leave me here.” She pushed a key into Liza’s hands.
“I’ve got a car hidden in the forest about 5 minutes due north,” Mrs. Dwi explained, “and don’t you worry your head about the things I’ll reveal Silvester. I am an old lady prone to forgetfulness.” She winked. Mrs. Dwi faced the dragon and stroked his head. He nuzzled against her.
“Goodbye little one, “ she murmured, “I hope you find peace.” Silvester gave a nod and the three guests stepped out the back door. Liza cradled the dragon while Silvester thumbed the journal’s pages.
“I’ve always wanted to see the world,” Liza said. Silvester looked at her and then at the dragon.
“We will,” he said while petting the dragon’s head. Liza stared into the trees.
“The greatest adventure of our lives,” she murmured.
“And the most dangerous one,” Silvester replied.
Together, they plunged into the forest.
The Eternal Friendship
by Melody Chen
Ripe with fragrance, the vast coat of the tree shudder as the rhythmic summer breeze sifts in,
cascading a burst of mild scent and sunshine in the air. The pulsing veins of his youthful limbs
pump his blossoming health as he gathers his accomplishments with modesty. The wondrous tree
would extend his arms to various birds, rodents, and insects in his humble home as he protects
them from the violent war of the external reality. However, soon, the sun would breathe out a
final warmth of farewell for a while before embarking on his journey away from Earth. The
viridescence would hereafter decay into the hue of the setting sun as children entertain
themselves with the piles of dying leaves. At this moment, the sun has made its way to the far
ends of Mother Earth - as he sets his heavy head to rest. For he has performed the most difficult
toil than any man and woman have labored - feeding the tree, offering a clear route for sailors,
and manifesting the bright hope of day. Without the comforting presence of the sun, the bright
sunset tree has resorted to a period of depression as many of his animals he has harbored has
deserted his widespread arm. He began shedding his coat of armor as he incessantly implores for
his forsaken friend. Upon days of misery, alas, the sun's footsteps back has awakened the tree
and roused the sparrows, squirrels, and flies. Dandelions have sprouted as each day mark the
looming warmth and presence of the sun. From the gaiety of their near distance, the tree decides
to dress up for the occasion of the celebration of summer. They happily reunite and waltz in the
gentle breeze of the merriest season of all - summer.
cascading a burst of mild scent and sunshine in the air. The pulsing veins of his youthful limbs
pump his blossoming health as he gathers his accomplishments with modesty. The wondrous tree
would extend his arms to various birds, rodents, and insects in his humble home as he protects
them from the violent war of the external reality. However, soon, the sun would breathe out a
final warmth of farewell for a while before embarking on his journey away from Earth. The
viridescence would hereafter decay into the hue of the setting sun as children entertain
themselves with the piles of dying leaves. At this moment, the sun has made its way to the far
ends of Mother Earth - as he sets his heavy head to rest. For he has performed the most difficult
toil than any man and woman have labored - feeding the tree, offering a clear route for sailors,
and manifesting the bright hope of day. Without the comforting presence of the sun, the bright
sunset tree has resorted to a period of depression as many of his animals he has harbored has
deserted his widespread arm. He began shedding his coat of armor as he incessantly implores for
his forsaken friend. Upon days of misery, alas, the sun's footsteps back has awakened the tree
and roused the sparrows, squirrels, and flies. Dandelions have sprouted as each day mark the
looming warmth and presence of the sun. From the gaiety of their near distance, the tree decides
to dress up for the occasion of the celebration of summer. They happily reunite and waltz in the
gentle breeze of the merriest season of all - summer.
Decompressed
by Luka Maeda
The Fool has sunken his feet into the sand his millionth time.
Days (or has it been weeks?) before, he had been able to distinguish each particle that rested upon one another and found beauty in the delicacy of each bead. But now, all of it merged into one extended plain of black tar. The same image of sand has been filtered with haze — the kind that you can rub your eyes to make your sight clear again, except it never gets clear.
Eyes blinded, the Fool drunkenly navigates through this isolated world knowing he will never escape from this sand inferno. His body sways with the forges of the dunes, restlessly dancing for the sun God Ra. Though the inside of his skull had turned into brain soup and his internal organs into warm mush, he huddles in his trench coat, covering his face from the roar of sand. He also carries a leather briefcase. Inside is a bible, a bottle of Tylenol, and a polaroid of his ma in her mid-30’s, red eyed and cross-legged on a kitchen stool in Trenton. The Fool wasn’t religious nor did he believe in a God, but he thinks the bible will come in handy someday.
He has no recollection of entering such desert, such hell. Daylight seems to never cease here. He drags his loafers in the sand as if he were scraping the cream of the Oreos and then lets his feet succumb into the sand again, the sand rushing into his Oxford socks. The Fool does not stop. He is pretty sure he had passed the sickle-looking tree at least twenty times, but he does not stop. He is afraid of the sun God Ra, for he had the power to suspend things in air forever, skin to skin with his rays. He had seen it before to a woman when he had still lived in New Jersey. He hid behind a set of tall hedges during hide and go seek and saw her lifelessly ascend into the sky with nothing on but a bathrobe and wet hair. Her hair frizzled by the touch of His rays. He gasped and Michael had found him.
He very much wishes for iced water and a teaspoon of honey now, but death was more attainable. The bottle of tylenol alone wasn’t enough but he wasn’t sure if dehydration will ever kill him because he would have been dead by now. When he was fifteen, the Fool had stole his parent’s car to drive past 7 Eleven and past the library to nowhere. He had bought a bottle of Coke, but realizes he didn’t like the taste so he threw the bottle to the side of the street and watch the glass shatter. The Fool would lick the Coke off the sidewalk now if he could.
He feels his cheeks have caved in and a frowzy beard had replace his buccal fat. He hasn’t seen a reflection of himself in a long time, but he imagines his eyes bloodshot. Even though the temperature must have been over one hundred degrees, the Fool felt cold. It’s as if his innards were all rebuilt into their original molds and were frozen from the absence of human affection. He wanted the sun God to hug him. He passed the sickle-looking tree again.
He senses someone watching him; someone besides the sun God. It wasn’t the sun God because its presence was very warm and fuzzy, like the belly of a house cat. He wondered if it was the woman in her bathrobe, watching him from above. If it was, he wanted to tell the woman that it’ll be okay and that he and her both will leave this hellhole someday. And he whispered exactly that to the sand, hoping she would still hear him.
Days (or has it been weeks?) before, he had been able to distinguish each particle that rested upon one another and found beauty in the delicacy of each bead. But now, all of it merged into one extended plain of black tar. The same image of sand has been filtered with haze — the kind that you can rub your eyes to make your sight clear again, except it never gets clear.
Eyes blinded, the Fool drunkenly navigates through this isolated world knowing he will never escape from this sand inferno. His body sways with the forges of the dunes, restlessly dancing for the sun God Ra. Though the inside of his skull had turned into brain soup and his internal organs into warm mush, he huddles in his trench coat, covering his face from the roar of sand. He also carries a leather briefcase. Inside is a bible, a bottle of Tylenol, and a polaroid of his ma in her mid-30’s, red eyed and cross-legged on a kitchen stool in Trenton. The Fool wasn’t religious nor did he believe in a God, but he thinks the bible will come in handy someday.
He has no recollection of entering such desert, such hell. Daylight seems to never cease here. He drags his loafers in the sand as if he were scraping the cream of the Oreos and then lets his feet succumb into the sand again, the sand rushing into his Oxford socks. The Fool does not stop. He is pretty sure he had passed the sickle-looking tree at least twenty times, but he does not stop. He is afraid of the sun God Ra, for he had the power to suspend things in air forever, skin to skin with his rays. He had seen it before to a woman when he had still lived in New Jersey. He hid behind a set of tall hedges during hide and go seek and saw her lifelessly ascend into the sky with nothing on but a bathrobe and wet hair. Her hair frizzled by the touch of His rays. He gasped and Michael had found him.
He very much wishes for iced water and a teaspoon of honey now, but death was more attainable. The bottle of tylenol alone wasn’t enough but he wasn’t sure if dehydration will ever kill him because he would have been dead by now. When he was fifteen, the Fool had stole his parent’s car to drive past 7 Eleven and past the library to nowhere. He had bought a bottle of Coke, but realizes he didn’t like the taste so he threw the bottle to the side of the street and watch the glass shatter. The Fool would lick the Coke off the sidewalk now if he could.
He feels his cheeks have caved in and a frowzy beard had replace his buccal fat. He hasn’t seen a reflection of himself in a long time, but he imagines his eyes bloodshot. Even though the temperature must have been over one hundred degrees, the Fool felt cold. It’s as if his innards were all rebuilt into their original molds and were frozen from the absence of human affection. He wanted the sun God to hug him. He passed the sickle-looking tree again.
He senses someone watching him; someone besides the sun God. It wasn’t the sun God because its presence was very warm and fuzzy, like the belly of a house cat. He wondered if it was the woman in her bathrobe, watching him from above. If it was, he wanted to tell the woman that it’ll be okay and that he and her both will leave this hellhole someday. And he whispered exactly that to the sand, hoping she would still hear him.