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She prepares for another day of protest. More and more, people realise the system has to change and fast.

The more resistance they face, the greater their desperation and resolve.

She grabs her helmet and shield. In the riot police van, she wonders how long until she joins the protesters.

I can’t believe they are making me wait. My grandma makes the best strawberry cake in the world and I saw it in her kitchen, still I have to wait. Lunch was good, too. But it’s really the cake I want.

There’s a swing in Grandma’s garden and I love the way it makes my stomach go all woozy. Back and forth. I can go so high, watch my feet against the blue sky and the white clouds. I can smell the strawberries from up here.

‘Come inside, Rose! Time for tea!’

‘Coming, Mum!’

I jump off the swing. Mum is waiting for me at the back door and gives me a hug. She holds on a bit too long and too tight, so I wiggle out of her arms and run inside.

Dad is there, his face a bit red. Weird, Grandma’s house always feels nice and chilly to me.

Mum sits down. The way she sinks into the chair, she looks smaller than at home. She looks down at the table.

Grandma frowns at me. I wonder when she is going to serve the cake.

‘Bella, you really ought to teach your daughter to-’

Dad says very quietly, ‘Mother, I told you, I am not going to accept any more of this.’

‘Well, I am just trying to help! If your wife doesn’t know how to raise your child properly-’

‘That’s it! Bella and Rose, we’re going home!’

Nobody listens to my protests so I end up in the car with them. They both start speaking at the same time.

‘Thank you-’ and ‘Forgive me, I’m sorry I let this go on for so long!’

On the way home they buy me chocolate biscuits. The way Mum looks at Dad makes them taste even better than strawberry cake.

‘First time?’

The technician directs me to the illuminated pad. Wonder what gave me away.

‘Just sign here… Initial there… Move as little as possible.’

Everyone I know has tried this and I need to get to Hamburg fast.

I realise something is wrong as soon as I materialise.

‘Oh, your nose got lost in the teleport. Happens sometimes!’

Her shrugging is not at all helpful.

My word of advice? Always read the fine print.

I watch the blood leaving my body, warm and rich and red.

My brother wanted to show me his new car and something was wrong with the brakes. He had worked hard to earn the money for this red machine of his dreams. Just to have it veer off the road on our first trip together.

I don‘t remember much. The motor screaming. My brother shouting. The sky jumping underneath us, then back up again.

Weird how our future can be decided in a short moment. Some people get out of a crash with hardly a scratch, some are not so lucky.

I wonder if he ever thought about his dream car being the colour of blood. Should he have chosen the blue one instead?

The bag is almost full now. About a pint. I had to beg them to let me do this and hope it helps save him.

I lie in wait, hiding in the dark. Today she stays up later than usual, which delays my evening plans. To my surprise, she watches a film about a serial killer. Wonder what made her take an interest in that one.

I don’t want to use force. Yet. I bet I could make her fall unconscious but I actually enjoy her being unaware of my presence.

Cleaning her teeth. She even sets a timer and follows the same brushing pattern every night. It makes my skin crawl. Well, figuratively.

I observe patiently as she applies her night cream, undresses, hangs her clothes across a rack, puts on a pyjama and goes to bed. Finally!

Eyes closed, her breathing slows down. I give her fifteen minutes to really sink into deep sleep. The waiting just increases my anticipation and I pass the time imagining my hands squeezing a neck, listening to the gurgling.

She twitches and moans, and I try to calm down, so she does too. Neither of us will benefit from last minute confusion.

When she is asleep at last, I stretch and rise up from my hiding place. This is what I live for, these few delicious hours every night when I am free.

From the inside, I open her eyes, move her body upright, put on the clothes from the back of the wardrobe she hasn’t yet found out are there.

Then the two of us walk, as one, out into the night for some more revenge.

Bea waits under the cinema marquee. The February rain is not enough to sour her mood, she is looking forward to watching another comedy with Max. Before COVID, this had been a regular activity for them.

One great thing about their friendship is that they have so much in common. Their tastes in music, in food and video games.

What she also appreciates is their absolute lack of complication. They are just here to enjoy a few laughs together.

At last, Max comes running, his hair wet. For a moment he looks deep into Bea’s eyes. He takes a long breath, then pulls a single red rose from his coat.

‘Happy Valentine’s Day!’

Bea cringes. So much for ‘just friends’.

Siblings cry, dancing across the Wall.

He jogs around the corner in search of a secluded place. Opens his bag and swears.

‘Again!’

He considers flashing home to pick it up. Wonders if it’s worth it squeezing himself into the lycra suit.

In the end, for the first time, he saves the day without his mask.

After calling the funeral home, I am on my way to meet my sister to sort Grandma’s belongings. Now she is my only family left.

I still can’t believe it. There was so much to discover in Grandma’s crammed little house with the garden full of flowers and herbs. We used to laugh so much together.

Now we have to decide what is worth selling and dump the rest. The thought makes my throat feel tight and my heart hurt.

May is waiting at the house and I am struck by how much she resembles Grandma. We haven’t seen each other in years and her eyes are completely dry.

‘Hi June, let’s not drag this out. I don’t think there is anything in here I want to keep, so if you want anything, feel free.’

‘Good to see you too.’

Inside, I am hit with the familiar smell of dust and incense. I make a beeline for the photo albums and stuff them into my bag, no need to open them to know what’s inside.

May shakes her head.

‘If you ask me, none of this will make any money. Wait, what is that?’

I follow her into the kitchen and realise she is talking about the blue and white porcelain pot on the shelf.

‘It’s her cookie jar. Or that’s what she called it. There never were any cookies in there. Well, that’s what she told me.’

‘Looks antique.’

Both of us grab it at the same time and I manage to catch the lid. Also some cookies falling out. May stares at them.

‘June, do you remember the three of us baking when we were little?’

An hour later we are on the floor, laughing our heads off at the old photos. I guess Grandma would have approved.

The envelope was addressed to him. No sender, but on the front it said ‘Don’t miss your chance!’ in red.

Inside, he found a sealed paper bag and a letter:

You have been chosen to see the future! Open your present now!

He felt the bag, rolled his eyes, but broke the seal anyway. There was nothing in there, so he decided this was just a prank. He threw the whole thing away, ignoring the tingling down his spine.

That day, for the first time in his life, he won all rounds of poker with his neighbours.

On the second day, he asked for and was granted the promotion he had spent years waiting for.

But on the third day, he woke up screaming. He ran outside in his flannel robe, eyes wide, pale as a ghost.

When the people laughed at his warnings, he wished he still didn’t know.

‘Oxygen level still falling,’ the computer chirped.

Bella, the science officer, was out cold from the drink the Pikor had served. As the mission’s diplomat, Lara had known to not partake.

She checked the electrolyser chamber manual again. There didn’t seem to be any technical problems.

‘Computer, is the release valve blocked?’

‘No obstruction detectable.’

Lara scratched her head. ‘Send the distress signal again! How far to the Bismarck?’

‘Signal sent. The Bismarck is 0.16 light years away.’

‘ETA?’

‘Estimated meeting in about 3 hours.’

‘Will the oxygen last?’

‘Life support failure in 1 hour.’

Lara closed her eyes and counted to ten. Mental Health class paid off now. However. In hindsight, she should have been as attentive in Basic Engineering.

At least Lara remembered the microleak detection lesson. She fished the vacuwand out of the drawer and went to work checking the entire damn shuttle.

Nothing.

The oxygen countdown display was now at five minutes. Lara counted to twenty.

She shook Bella again, hard.

Nothing.

The mediwand said she was alright, just unconscious.

Feeling woozy, Lara asked, ‘Computer! Can’t you do something about the oxygen level?’

‘I can run a diagnostic and attempt to repair any malfunctions.’

‘What? Well, go ahead then!’

When Lara woke up, she could see the Bismarck through the front screen.

‘Computer, why did you let me run around and panic? Why didn’t you tell me you could save us?’

‘You never asked.’

Lara made a mental note to improve diplomatic relations with the AI.

‘And now for my last trick!’

It took a lot for Frank to maintain the smile. One of them had been asleep in the last row for fifteen minutes. David, the manager, wouldn’t stop goofing around on stage with the props. Frank made a mental note to never accept a gig at this office supply company again.

‘Soooooo, any volunteers?’ he asked. ‘The lady in the purple dress? No?’

The paper people sat and stared.

‘This is your once in a lifetime chance to…’

He whispered, ‘Vanish from sight!’

‘Aahh, I’ll do it!’

Frank blinked. David grinned and bowed in advance. The woman in purple hid her face in her hands.

‘Ooooookaaaaaay! An applause for David! Now step into this cabinet here! But don’t touch anything in there!’

Frank shut the door, tapped his wand against the cabinet and mumbled under his breath. Then, his gaze on his audience, he threw the door open.

For the first time this afternoon, people clapped and whooped: David had vanished!

Frank chuckled, ‘Not to worry, you’ll get him back in a second!’

Tap, mumble, open door, pose, wait… What?

David was still gone. Frank shook the cabinet. Crouched inside. Scratched his nose.

‘Um. I’ll sort it!’

‘Oh, don’t worry,’ The purple lady gently pushed him offstage. ‘Look at the time, I bet you have a train to catch. Here’s your cheque and some extra! We’ll post your props! ’

Later, at the station, Frank decided to take up juggling as a side job.

Alex runs until he is out of breath, cursing. Had he knocked, he wouldn’t have seen Charlie change.

The other boys are waiting for them.

He thinks of his father watching the news.

‘There’s something wrong with the parents if kids turn out that way! Glad you have your head on straight, son!’

Wrapping yourself like that? He has trouble breathing, just from imagining it.

Charlie arrives late, arms crossed in front of their chest, glancing at Alex. Alex grins and pats his friend on the back, more roughly than usual.

‘Hey, there you are! Let’s chat up some girls!’

Here in the forest, the two of them are safe. At least for now. She has given birth before, but she has almost no recollection of the other two children.

Each time, the guards came and took them away shortly afterwards. She could hear them crying for days, because they kept them close by, out of sight but not out of hearing range. Whenever she stood at the gate and called for them through the bars, someone came eventually and pushed her back. Shouted at her to shut up.

Two days ago she saw a chance to escape through a gap in the electric fence around the compound and took it. She ran and ran. Through the mud. Into the forest. Stumbling through the undergrowth. Until she had to lie down, exhausted but free at last.

He was born tonight. She doesn’t realise how lucky she was that things went so well. She cleaned him as best she could, kept him safe and warm. He latched on hungrily and drank until he fell asleep, closed those big brown eyes. She has no plans for what she is going to do tomorrow. She has never been here, in the outside world.

She is tired too, but he smells so soft and sweet, she can’t get enough of him, his pink nose. She listens to him breathing. The tiny bull calf has the same black and white face markings as his father, but she doesn’t know that. She never even met him.

A woman squats beside the fire, her gaze fixed on the stones in her hands. One is heavy, the other sharp. She hits the flint blade one last time, smiling at the sparks. She is ready for the next attack.

At dawn, the king rides in front of his army. They know the enemy is behind the hills. They know there is little hope for this battle to bring them victory after years of war. Still, the king raises his sword, catching the sunlight. They roar and run forward.

In the trenches, a soldier reads letters from home. The ink is almost worn away and the paper is thin from folding and unfolding. He is so immersed in the words of love that he only sees the streak of light seconds before it hits the ground. The grenade explodes a safe distance away from him. Shortly afterwards, he hears the screaming.

The streets are decorated in black, white and red. Young men march to the music of a military band. They parade past their families, their boots polished to an immaculate shine, blinding their eyes to what lies ahead.

On a Wednesday, a soldier who never signed up for any of this, runs from a house, his eyes wide. He throws up against a tree. In his mind he replays the way the flames reflected on the pool of blood.

The same man, a father now, pulls the belt from his trousers and holds the gleaming buckle in his shaking hand. His daughter has no idea why this happens every Wednesday.

The same daughter, a mother now, sees her son squatting beside a pile of shards. His eyes glisten with tears. She grips the broomstick hard and makes a decision.

‘I’ve never liked that vase. Come, give me a hug.’

The pupil was furious with the master.

‘What is all this Zen good for, if I still don’t understand it?’

The master sat and smiled.

‘Why do you keep all the explanations to yourself? Why can’t you make this simple?’

‘The answers are simple. But I can’t make them easy.’

Tania cut the last threads, and lifted the gown up from the worktop. When she shook it, the royal blue skirt billowed like an ocean wave, the black velvet top shimmered in the lamplight. She held it close to her body and tried a few twirls.

Jesmin had been watching. ‘If I wasn’t your best friend, I’d be jealous of your talent!’

Tania already saw herself swaying across the dancefloor.

Until Mr Hossen burst in.

‘Who do you think you are? Hang it with the other ones and return to work! I don’t pay you for dreaming!’

The dress swung back and forth on the rail as Tania bent over the next one she would never be able to afford.

Caitlin ties her long auburn hair together. She does not want it to get caught while weaving her last spell.

The liquid in the small bottle is clear and viscous. She adds a length of wool and finally a stopper. She draws sigils in the air that create orange echo images within the liquid. Almost done.

She sneaks into the chapel and hides the flask underneath the lectern. Upon her leaving, sacrificial candles light up all at once.

Two days later, Caitlin dies on a pyre. The night after, the entire village burns to the ground, starting from the chapel.

This has never happened to Priscilla. She has heard about ‘tossing and turning’. It’s even more annoying than she could have ever imagined.

The clock tells her it’s three in the morning. She gets up and walks into the kitchen to get some water. She shouldn’t have eaten the entire vegetable bake.

Back in bed, Priscilla worries that this might be hormonal. Lots of friends her age talk about waking up from sweating too much. She doesn’t feel particularly warm, though. On the contrary, her bed is as comfortable as always, the blanket snug, her pillow just the right level of soft.

She wonders if she should read something when she hears a tiny voice griping from somewhere under her bed, ‘I know! First the sand shortage, suddenly I have to take over Ernie’s route, and I am pretty sure they’re not going to pay me overtime. Yeah, tell me about it! Oh!’

The small person now standing on Priscilla’s bedside table stares at her, frozen.

‘You can see me? Erm…’

He has a tiny device on his belt which he hits repeatedly with his free hand. He sighs, then reaches deep into a tiny bag.

‘Nothing to see here, it’s aaaaall just a dream!’

The last thing she sees is a tiny handful of sparkling sand thrown her way. She can still hear the voice, just not filter out any words.

‘Okay, I am back, Ernie’s last is done. Hope she won’t find out about the sock goblins next!’

Laura lay on her settee, her right arm flung across her eyes. Crumpled up tissues already covered the carpet, yet she reached for another one to blow her nose again.

Today Lily would leave her. After a wonderful week of watching TV, cuddling, napping together, talking over breakfast. Laura sniffled and wiped her eyes.

Lily came in and looked around.

‘Would you like another bite before you have to go? There are leftovers.’

Laura got one more plate from the kitchen, but Lily only stared at the food until the door bell rang.

‘Thank you! If it hadn’t been urgent, I would never have asked you!’

‘Looking after your cat was a pleasure. What’s a bit of allergy among friends?’

She was mentally preparing for yet another interview when the man thrust his arm through the closing doors of the lift. She had already illuminated the button she needed. He pushed it again.

She rolled her eyes and wiped her forehead. This summer heat was an extra nuisance. At least the colour of her dress made her feel somewhat happy with herself this Monday morning.

She recognized him from the photo. The same smart suit and slick hairstyle. Halfway up, she realised he was also looking at her, but not from the corner of his eyes. He stared at the region below her neck, his grin showing teeth.

At their stop he left first, only to have to ring the bell at the door to the offices. She unlocked it and brushed past, saying ‘I can’t wait for you to explain why you are the right person for the job.’

Someone dies.

They always have a cuppa at 5pm.

After lunch, Lydia left on her bike to see a friend.

Henry chooses her favourite loose leaf.

Lydia‘s cup has gone cold by the time his mobile rings.

‘Now, what exactly is bothering you about this assignment?’ Brigid leaned back and steepled her fingers.

‘I don’t know – the word doesn’t inspire me. Or it inspires me too much. It’s what I ended up not making a career of and I can’t write about that.’

‘Who says that you have to? Who says you can’t skip today?’

‘It’s a challenge. You are meant to accept it and just do it. I can’t just, you know – arrrgh!’

‘Where did you say you name was from?’

‘It’s German. Bit old-fashioned’

‘Hm.’

‘The e is long.’

‘Right.’

Brigid tilted her head and continued. ‘What would you say is the upside to this task?’

Meta sighed and closed her eyes. ‘Not much comes to mind. Of course, I could be reasonable and talk about how it’s good for me and my discipline. But today I just feel stuck.’

‘I guess that some very mean person signed you up for this without asking you?’

‘Ha ha, not helping!’

Brigid smiled. ‘I am not here to help, at least not in the way you seem to be hoping for. You know that. Tell me, what is the worst thing that could happen if you just started typing?’

Meta looked at her hands. ‘I might not find a perfect ending,’ she murmured.

‘And what if your story did not have the perfect ending?’

Meta stood up. ‘This is not working. I should write about the mother showing her daughter how to ride a bike after all.’

Where was Yolanthe with the Agrimony? Even in the silent darkness, Lexa felt the sun already gaining strength again. If she didn’t succeed before the end of the eclipse, the unfinished spell would blow up in her face.

Lexa preferred planning for contingencies over improvising. Today, however, she had had to prepare in a hurry.

Her hands shook when she dropped the ammonite into the cauldron, but too late: All at the same time, flames lit up the village, the shadows dissolved and the sigils on the ground exploded.

From her almost empty bag she pulled her last tool. The sword, stuck in there at the last minute, flashed in the sunlight.

Time to make the dragon pay for Yolanthe.

Her home looked the same as before the accident.

She sniffed the air, trying to remember. Nothing. No memory and no sensation.

The tree outside had been bare, hadn’t it?

It was not because of the loss of smell that she never found the sign saying ‘Specimen 456, switched 04/23’.

Only one lamp now, have to save energy. I thought we had time, but the fires reached Denmark yesterday. There go the last crops.

Those weather scientists should have spoken up sooner, people should have elected better politicians, instead of blocking roads or debating plastic straws.

My dad thought bigger. Built a lucrative business. Before he died from that chicken bug. Why wasn’t anything done about biosecurity while there was still time?

Mercs roaming the streets. Nobody has money left to pay them, even my millions are gone. Now they are just looking for revenge.

I check the steel doors to my underground bunker, when I hear them shouting outside. There is a click and the single lamp goes out.

The prince looked from the slain ogre to the woman he had just saved. After a few seconds, the hunter master cleared his throat and wiggled his left hand.

‘Your highness…’

The prince blinked. ‘Oh, of course!’

He reached into his pocket to produce a huge diamond ring which sparkled in the sunlight. As he held it out to the woman, her eyes went wide, her hand clutching her chest.

‘Um. I’m supposed to marry you now. If that’s alright with you?’

When she politely declined, he let out a deep breath and grinned. Happily ever after was overrated.

‘Mildred, you have to come over, it‘s happened again!‘ The mayor sounded out of breath over the telephone.

Mildred’s clock said that it was 8am on a Saturday morning. He would have to pay her overtime.

‘Of course, Mayor Brown, I’ll be with you shortly!‘

She finished her coffee. Someone really wanted to get on the mayor’s last nerves.

Mildred left her bike at the entrance to the park. There he was, sweating and red in the face.

‘There! How am I going to look in the pictures for the Rotary event on Monday?’

He gestured to the fresh beds of pink and white primulas in the middle of the green. The lovely springtime impression they made was marred by the fact that they formed letters. The message read:

POMPOUS GIT!

‘That’s a bit harsh Mr. Brown. I wonder what kind of person would do this. Maybe they should spend some time with you, find out what you are really like.’

‘Thank you, Mildred. But is there any way we can get this repaired in time? I want it flawless! Is there anyone I can rely on?’

‘I can ask around, but they are all very busy in spring. Also, it’ll be difficult to just make the letters disappear. Do we have the funds for rolled turf?’

‘Again? I don’t think the council will agree.’

‘Strange, Mayor Jones never had that kind of problem with them.’

‘Maybe because he always did what they wanted?’

Mildred gazed at the mayor.

‘Do you want me to call the turf company for a quote?’

‘Yes! Do you really have to retire next month?’

Mildred laughed. ‘I do, this is all getting a bit too exciting!’

Back home she rang her nephew’s landscaping company and thanked them for the excellent work arranging the primulas.

‘If the stone age people hadn’t used leather, they wouldn’t have survived!’

So much for a quiet Sunday breakfast.

‘Dad, we are not stone age people.’

‘So you think plastic shoes are good for the environment?’

She gritted her teeth. ‘They’re hemp. Have you seen what is involved in the tanning industry?’

‘This vegan thing is just another phase. Like your hair used to be purple.’

She took a moment to really look at her father. His angry face. Then she said the magic words that finally shut him up:

‘It doesn’t change the fact that I still love you.’

They said I wouldn’t remember, but I do. I have been able to sit for a month, yet still no articulation, tongue all untrained.

Today we are visiting mom’s friend. She has a baby too, Cissa. She has lots of toys.

Cubes with letters on. I reach for them with my clumsy fingers, to send out a message at last. Cissa kicks the blocks apart and smirks.

I look into her eyes: She remembers too.