Letters from A.R.E., First of Seven, 23 January 18--

My dear comrade, I cannot find anywhere else to turn; I implore that you excuse me for not remaining true to our once strong truce and law of anonymity in the face of imminent danger.  Even now, I am sure that I am exposing ourselves to even more hostility, as my own safety--recent events have shown--is no longer of importance to any concerned.  Do not misunderstand me, my dear friend, I do not for a moment blame you for my present dilemma.  I take full responsibilities for the consequences of which I have brought upon myself.  
Au Revoir--A.R.E.

Wishing on a Star

   Not every girl can be a princess.  They may wish on a star every night before they bundle under the covers with their favorite stuffed pony, but how many of their wishes ever come true?
   To be admired, respected, to make a difference in the world, those were my wishes when my father named me heir to the throne.
   I guess his advisers had something "less strenuous" in mind.

Eternal Mother, Hathor

   On a starless, rainy night, eight hundred women stood their ground, defending the temple of Hathor against the anger of blood-hungry men.  Each man bore the talisman of Anubis, the god of death.  And every woman was marked with the ankh, the symbol for eternal life.
   The men wanted the women's sons for war and their daughters for love.  The men demanded the children be given into their care.  They claimed that they would provide for their young minds and show them worlds beyond their homeland.  The boys who could not soldier would serve, and the girls who could not bare would please the men with song and dance.  The men insisted that Hathor would be pleased to have her children embody the essence of her godly strengths.
   The women, unfooled, walked backward, chins high, forming a solid barrier to the temple's entrance.
   "You forget one thing," the women said.  "Hathor is also the goddess of motherhood.  And you will never make her children chattel to be abused, cattle to be saddled and stained, or shields in battle.  Her children are her own.  Protected."  
   The women never turned their backs to the men, and as one they shouted as fire rose from the trenches before them, "And you shall never have them!"

A Day in Paradise

   In the middle of the street, steam burst skyward, rattling the manhole cover, whistling like a kettle.  The people on the sidewalks and in the bumper to bumper traffic looked around, hoping someone would answer their question: what is going on?
   A jogger slowed to a stop, took out his earbud, and leaned toward a woman in a black two-piece suit.  "Is that sulfer--?"
   No one expected lava.

The Inner Struggle of a Troubled Soul

   You know that point when everything is going so fast and you know that you can't stop something terrible from happening, but you rush in slow-motion to try to stop the inevitable anyway?
   Yeah, I had one of those days.
   One of those years, actually.
   If you ever thought life was easy, or that you could be in complete control of your destiny...then you haven't yet lived.

A Little Green for a Sunday Afternoon

   Friends, James and Antonio grabbed their sunflower seeds and gloves, ready for a lazy Sunday afternoon tossing the ball around the park, but they weren't expecting to see Antonio's youngest sister, Nicole waiting for them.
   "Nikki!" Antonio called.  "Does mom know you're here?"
   She tossed her ball in the air, caught it, and blew a bubble with a loud pop, "'Course she does!"  Her bushy brown hair helped fill in her too-big baseball cap, but her worn glove fit just right.
   James, who had always thought of Nicole as the sister he never had, crossed his arms and crooked an eyebrow at the young girl, "Did she know you were here all alone?"
   "Ahh," she said, "don't gimme that."  She adjusted her cap and hit her glove.  "I'm with you guys.  You were just late."  She jumped from one foot to the other.  "Come on.  Let's play!"
   As Nicole ran to the park's ball field, the boys groaned and dragged their feet through the grass.
   "Welp," James said, "we can't just send her home."
   Antonio tilted his head in thought, "Or can we?" 
   By supper time, James and Nicole were chasing one another around the bases, while Antonio stood on the pitcher's mound, announcing the play-by-play with his fist as a microphone.  

Sailing in Deep, Dark Waters

   To many men, drunken hours on a midnight ship have not been the friendliest of times--as for me, well, the company is fine and although the bar is closed, the drinks keep coming.  It is quite an anomaly, I would suppose.  But perhaps not.
   My partner and I abandoned the dance floor hours ago.  We had a laugh and shared a drink, but an unpleasant odor from heaven knows where stifled our amorous mood rather quickly.  We joined a party of card players.  It was silly, but soon my money was on the table, and there I was gambling without my wits about me.
   They even got me to put up my yacht.
   I had hoped for it to be a rewarding evening, yet here I am with my dinner jacket in one hand and my empty wallet in the other.  
   My dance partner was the big winner and left without a word but had a big smile just for me.
   Boy, do I hate sharks.

Perpetual Agony

   It was a heavily overcast day.
   That morning's thunder storm had rattled everyone in the family.
   The mother and father were lying in bed, holding one another, when their children ran screaming into the master bedroom.
   The mother caressed the children while the father remained aloof.

                                             ...

   Today was a day just like that one had been all those years ago.
   Only...
   The children cried and the father remained aloof.