EXCERPTS

Do You Believe In Magic?

By

Jewel Adams

Chapter One

“Come on, Ali. Pleazzz come with me.”

“Evie, I have so much to do, can’t we stay here and watch a movie?”

“It isn’t the same, this is in a theater. Besides, you will really liked the movie, Ali. The Captain is handsome and everyone rides horses.”

“Good looking, huh?” She ruffled Evie’s blonde curls, swallowing down her agitation that she’d have to be in her eighties just know who the actor might be. Watching an old, black and white movie about the old west just wasn’t in her plans for the night. Neither was babysitting her godchild, Evie. “How do you know he is handsome?”

“Oh, my friend told me.”

“One of your friends went to see this movie?”

The girl nodded her head.

What kind of parents give their ten year olds tickets to a rundown theater, to watch old movies? Ali picked up the tickets and looked at them. They looked as old as the movie probably would be. “Are you sure your mom gave you the tickets, Evie?”

“Oh yeah, she got them from some charity event.” Evie’s little girl face lit up as she looked at Ali and took hold of her hand. “You will like it, Ali. It is so nice back in the old days.”

“I am sure I will.” God, she sounded like a kid, herself. It must be babysitting that did this to her, a grown woman just didn’t do this anymore, even if Tracey was her cousin. If Ali were honest, she would admit what she just didn’t like about the situation.

Evie wasn’t just hungry for attention, she must be starved for it to want her godmother as company. Ali didn’t think most kids would want to go see an ancient movie. “Where did you say she got these tickets, Evie?”

“I think she said a ‘silent auction’ or something like that.”

Now that, Ali could believe. Tracey carried the charity event queen label, along with her other activities. So many that she had no time for little Evie. Like tonight, another class or other. “Alright Evie, but after this movie is over I need to get home and do the work I brought home.”

“Oh, it won’t take long, you’ll see”

“I need to change first.”

Evie followed her into the bedroom.

“You better start thinking about the place.”

“Why?” Ali slipped out of her work suit and kicked off her heels, half listening to the girl.

“The movie is in this small town, what would you want to be back then?”

As she walked past Evie to the dresser, she twisted Evie’s pigtail. “Don’t push your luck, Evie. I’m going, and right now all I want to see is some good looking dude on that screen.”

The giggling Evie fell back on the bed.

When she pulled on her sweater, Ali looked at the girl. “What’s so funny?”

 “Oh Ali, you have Chet.”

“Hmm, he’s definitely good looking, but forget the have part.” Ali recalled their conversation from last night, he certainly didn’t agree with her standards.

 “Ali, your ideas are archaic.”

 “I don’t think waiting until we’re married, to go to bed with you, is an ancient philosophy.”

 “The is the twentieth-first century Ali, wake up!”

Ali closed her eyes over how hard he slammed her door, “It’s how I feel...”

“What is Ali?”

She brought her attention back to the girl. “Nothing, honey. Where were we?”

“We are going to the movies.”

“Right.” Ali held up the tickets before slipping them into her jean pocket

“We should live in the old west.”

She gave Evie a rueful look. “Oh sure and what could I be?”

“My mother?”

Ali rolled her eyes up to the ceiling.

“Sister?”

“You’ve no imagination Evie, but sister does sound better.”

“You could be a teacher. In the movie the lady is a school marm.”

Ali conjured up the image of a spectacled spinster. “It doesn’t sound very flattering.”

“You are prettier than she is and she gets the cowboy.”

“He better be tall, dark, and extremely handsome if I have to teach a room full of kids.”

Ali reached out and started tickling Evie. “Come on, we better get to this theater of yours.”

* * * *

“You have to sit here, Ali.”

Ali followed the girl down the dimly lit aisle, glad that she stopped half way. Leaning back to see any movie wasn’t something Ali wanted to experience. Seeing as the place was empty, they could have any seat they wanted.

On the drive here, Evie never stopped talking. She explained to Ali that they needed to do a wishing game at the theater. Ali just nodded, deciding she’d play along with the girl.

Ali lowered herself down into the seat beside Evie.

“Now we have to think together about the same thing.”

“Set the stage?” At the girl’s questioning look, Ali took the lead, trying to make the evening fun for Evie. “I see blue sky all around.”

Evie chimed in, “And mountains, big ones.”

“Green grass and rolling hills.”

“Looks pretty, Ali.”

“Now what do we do, Evie?” The girl’s attention was on the movie starting to play.

“We close our eyes and wait.”

Ali wondered how they would watch the movie. “What about the movie, Evie?”

The girl asked for the tickets. When Ali held them out, Evie took hold of them, but didn’t take them.

“It is starting, Ali, so we need to begin our wishes.”

“Pretend we are there and the movie works its magic.” Thankfully, Evie was still too young to hear Ali’s sarcasm.

“See, it’s easy, Ali.”

Maybe Evie’s game wasn’t so bad. The girl needed the escape it lent from her rocky home life. What with Tracey and Bob always at each other, Ali couldn’t see the harm.

“You have to close your eyes, Ali.”

“Right. I forgot, sorry.”

It proved hard to play along, the movie was beginning, and Ali kept thinking about all the work waiting for her at home. She watched the opening credits roll by and wondered why Evie would want to watch an old western.

“Ali, you aren’t playing.”

“Yes I am, I was just wondering how we will know when it works.”

“Oh, you will know.”

Ali took a deep breath and forced her eyes to shut. She tried to clear her mind, whispering to herself “Blue sky, mountains and green rolling hills...”

She let her mind go with the imaginary scene, she could hear gunshots and racing horses from the movie. Ali began to relax under the spell’s silent peace. A strange feeling of calm washed over her as if she were floating on a cloud. Snow capped mountains encircled the expanse of countryside. Wild flowers covered the open slopes of the hills moving past. A rocking sensation rolled over her, she smiled and wondered how Evie was doing.

Ali sighed, letting the tranquility block out reality...if only for a little while.

But a sudden lurch jarred Ali out of her peaceful dream.

She blinked furiously against the glaring sunlight. “What...sunlight?”

Ali bit her lip to silence what she didn’t want to hear, but her senses betrayed her efforts.

The changes came at her like arrows. The assault’s speed left her breathless as one reality slipped pass and became replaced by another foreign one.

“Evie?” Ali didn’t like the fear she heard in her voice.

Shaking her head against what she felt and still refused to let her mind comprehend, Ali flatly refused to let this go any further!

She took a steadying breath and silently laughed at what she almost allowed herself to believe. Old theaters and movies didn’t make the imagination come alive. She forced her eyes open to seek out the old row of seats…

What came made her denial strengthen against the frightening reality taking hold of her. She squeezed her eyes shut, and forced them to reopen, sure she’d been overcome by Evie’s game.

“No!...it can’t be real.” The stage coach…Oh God, it really is one. Another rut sent the coach swaying and she bounced all over the seat. Automatically her hand reached out to grip the open door frame. Ali couldn’t breathe over what shouldn’t be there to hold.

“Evie?”

Ali turned against the swaying, thankful that she found the girl beside her. She reached for her, “Evie?”

The girl looked up at her with the same confusion Ali felt. “Come here, honey.”

Evie needed no coaxing to accept Ali’s embrace.

“Lady, get down!”

Her mouth opened more from the realization that a man sat across from them than his shouted order.

The curse he directed at her was nothing compared to the blast of the gun in his hand that cut loose.

Ali instinctively fell over Evie to shield her. “What is going on?” She shouted over the blasting noise.

“Are you blind?” He cursed and kept shooting. “Damn Easterners. Stay down or those arrows the redskins are shooting will give you the answer!”

“Indians?”

Ali’s gasps drew Evie’s frightened whimper. “Ali, I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“I know, Evie.” The swish and thud above their heads confirmed all the man’s threatening words. The arrow wasn’t imaginary, neither was the fear it instilled.

“Hush, Evie, it will be okay.”

“Ali, it’s not right, what happened?”

“I don’t know, honey, I don’t know.” The arguments waged inside her head that none of this could be happening. A stupid old movie couldn’t make something this crazy happen. Could it?

Another bone jarring jolt of the stagecoach made her teeth bite down against the answer.

Arrows kept flying, she could hear the war-hoops of the attacking men, yet all she could do was look at the clothes on Evie and then herself.

“Calico?” The tiny flower print dress looked a far cry from her jeans. Her hand rose and touched the bonnet secured by the satin blow under her chin. A light, short traveling cape fell about her shoulders. Ali truly wished it could shield them from the danger.

“Ugh!”

She looked up at the man’s cry. Ali swallowed her scream over the arrow protruding from the man’s chest.

“Ali!”

“Don’t look, Evie.”

The sideway lean of the coach stole her transfixed gaze from the dead man. A bare arm and hand moved about the open door panel, followed by the painted chest.

“Oh, no way!”

Looking to the man for help, she groaned. She tried to look away, catching the site of the gun still clutched in his lifeless hold. “I’m not really doing this…” Ali kept repeating the lie as she pried his fingers away from the weapon.

It took both hands for her to hold the heavy gun up and point it at the Indian now fully in view, clinging to the door. His eyes went to the weapon, then her. The vicious sneer that crossed his face sent ice through her veins. When he raised his arm, she saw the knife, the gun in her hands fired as if it held its own agenda.

The horrible scream filled her ears. Dropping the gun, she tried to block it out with her hands, but Evie demanded her attention. Cradling the child in her arms, Ali heard the reassuring words she spoke to Evie, while she silently demanded that they be brought back!

Ali gave up the effort over the new sound of a bugle and the slowing of the stagecoach.

“Where is it?” She scrambled about the floor with her hands, searching under the folds of dress material for the gun, nearly crying when she finally felt the warm metal.

“Evie, stay behind me.”

She held the gun before her. Ali waited for the next savage to appear. Her only thought was to protect Evie, nothing else mattered any more…

Meanwhile… Back at the Ranch

By

Bridghid Parkinson

The Twilight Marquee Theater retained the charm from when it originally started. The sconces on the wall were cleaned off and new light bulbs put in, but whether the lights complied with modern electrical code became a point of contention as the girls sat down. Making hasty note of the exits, the people situated themselves in the center seats, several rows away from the front.

The nagging sadness of her failed relationship ebbed as the loneliness gave way to a new sense of independence. I want to enjoy a night out with friends, popcorn and chocolate!

Charlene enjoyed the chance to soak in the environment of the old theater that she’d seen only in old photos.

The foam in the chairs smelled musty but even the stiff springs felt better than seats in modern theaters, which were hard and crowded. Charlene moved her cell phone to the sweater pocket just to make sure she didn’t hit a speed dial key when she sat down. Settling into the chair, she looked around the walls.

This old theater would close its doors forever. Rumors from the City Council indicated efforts to have it declared a historic site with possible plans for renovating the theater to a stage for community stage productions and an auditorium. The theater management had to raise revenue to keep the doors open and specialty parties became a local feature. Not every theater could envelop the participants in an old movie atmosphere and for the weekly ‘girl’s night out’, this was the perfect choice to go see an old movie.

During the opening frames and credits of the special feature, she saw a stagecoach, a horse and buggy, and a man riding down a long winding road on a horse.

Charlene flinched when the blue light came. She thought there were special lights coming up in the auditorium until the whole theater disappeared around her.

* * * *

Every beautiful woman,

Has a beautiful dream to follow.

* * * *

Charlene first noticed her popcorn tasted odd.

When the light settled, she looked around and she now stood in the middle of a small field. The reason her popcorn tasted funny was that she now held a bucket of cracked corn chicken feed.

Something isn’t making sense here, she thought.

She looked down at her dress. What caught her attention first were the boobs that were suddenly sticking out in front of her body like missiles. Oh, God, she thought, I had never hoped to have a rack like this without plastic surgery.

The dress felt tight around her waist but the long skirts hung full and lacy around her feet. The dress might be red but she couldn’t be sure because all of the colors around her seemed strange. She felt her hair. Her short curls were gone and she had a sausage curl hairstyle piled on the top of her head, and hair-sprayed so hard it could have withstood a hurricane. She felt the tight corset that hugged every detail from under her arms to her waist. She discovered metal bindings sewn into a heavy fabric, with lace that barely covered her nipples. The costume felt comfortable, but it was snug, to say the least. Lordy, if I sneeze, I will pop out of this outfit and there will be no secrets.

She ran her hands over the skirt. She could feel the lacy, satin underskirts and from the feel on her legs, she knew she was bareback. She didn’t even have a thong under the skirts but she could feel the strap from the bottom of the garter belt, down to the top band of the stockings on her leg.

“You better get cracking,” the old black woman said from the porch. Charlene turned and found the enormous old house and a barn nearby with the sounds of horses and sheep. “We’ve got a heap more chores to do!”

She looked at the ground and there were chickens all around her pecking at the feed on the ground.

“Miss Laura’s in a bad mood today,” another woman said.

“Should I be worried?” Charlene asked.

“Oh, yeah! You can tell she’s new here!” several of the other women laughed. Everyone started clapping to a rhythm.

Charlene heard the guitar starting to pick up the rhythm with an old tin sounding, honky-tonk piano. Looking around the yard, she couldn’t see any musicians, but the girls sang around her.

------

Watch your mouth, don’t swear, and please sit up right!

The customer likes a lady that’s bright!

We start up the chores at the break of daylight!

Those are Miss Laura’s Ranch rules!

------

Dress like a lady when shopping downtown!

Hold your head high and don’t wear a frown!

Don’t worry your head with gossip in town!

These are Miss Laura’s Ranch rules!

------

Men come to find a special little thrill!

We have to be sure that they get their fill!

Then come back again, the gentleman will!

These are Miss Laura’s Ranch rules!

------

Surrounded by all the singing women in old-time costumes like Charlene’s, they pushed her from one group to another. They wore layers of lace peeking out from under the skirts flaunted like an old style Vaudeville can-can show and they paired outfits with corsets, fishnet stockings and high heels. The women kicked up their heels and began singing about the ranch like it was an old barn dance.

Charlene didn’t know the words to the song, but just watched. She felt tempted to add a ‘Yee-ha!’ but restrained herself. The others finished scattering the chicken feed while they were singing and the women started pushing her to the front porch so she tossed the feed from her bucket and followed them to the steps.

The girls introduced Charlene to Miss Emaline, the middle-aged black woman who wore a crisp apron and a tightly buttoned dress. She rang the dinner bell on the front porch and started singing,

------

Talk to me, honey, and I’ll never tell!

But follow her rules or you’re gonna catch hell!

Come to the table when I ring the bell!

These are Miss Laura’s Ranch rules!

------

Mind your manners if the men talk to you!

Say ‘Yes, Sir and No Sir’, ‘Please’ and ‘Thank You’!

But if you get rude, it’s a day you’ll rue!

Follow Miss Laura’s Ranch rules!

------

All of the music came to a discordant stop with the bang of the door on the front porch. An older woman came out wearing a saloon costume and dark makeup. She said flatly, “You will mind my rules or pack up your bags! We don’t have time to sing and lolly-gag! We have work to do, or I’ll be a nag! Follow my little Ranch Rules!”

She turned, walking back in the front door and everyone looked somber. Charlene thought how much fun that song could have been if she not stopped it, but even Miss Laura’s own words were still in the beat of the original music.

Everyone quietly walked inside and Miss Emaline escorted the group of costumed women to the dining room.

* * * *

Meanwhile… somewhere in California…

Castleblanca

By

Mae Powers

Sila listened restlessly as the soft music from the old forties movie Casablanca filtered through her mind. She yawned. Not that she found the enticing movie boring, but she’d been up restless for several nights, worrying about her missing friend Samantha. The last she’d learned was that Samantha came to this theater to see Casablanca on the big screen before the old theater closed down permanently here in town.

It wasn’t long before her mind wandered from watching the old flick, and her eyes suddenly became tired. She felt as if she were fighting sleep and invading dreams. As time went by, her eyelids became heavier. She felt a coldness creeping in on her system and everything around her started becoming layered with an unusual looking blue-violet fog. It soon enveloped her.

She became alert enough to know that her body was dissolving, or it felt like it. The old music played on, but the theater was no longer where she sat. Instead, the blue mist of film noir residue swirled over her, bringing her to some eerie, alternate realm.

She found herself sitting on the edge of a bed in this beautiful elegant bedroom with a silky, shiny blue gown laid out on the bed as if just for her. She sat there looking over the room. It didn’t look like a regular bedroom or any fancy hotel that she’d been to. Not that she’d been to a lot. It looked like a room in a castle. Not that it made any sense to her either. She finally got her bearings and stood up. However, before she could take another step, a door crept open.

She jerked her head automatically and turned her body in the direction that the sounds came from. The main door to the large room swung open. A strawberry-blonde haired woman with blue eyes and dressed in a sparkling black velvet gown stood momentarily in the doorway. Samantha entered the bedroom with a tall man dressed in a white evening jacket and black slacks coming hurriedly in behind her.

Sila glanced at her friend in disbelief, not sure if the dream state was real or not. “Samantha, tell me you’re part of my dream.”

The strange man quickly shut the door as Samantha ran over and flung her arms around Sila. “Oh gosh I’m so glad to see you, Sila. The last two weeks have been crazy.”

“Two weeks? You’ve been missing since early Friday afternoon. It’s been nearly two days, Sammie.” Sila exclaimed as she tried to balance herself, while hugging her friend.

Samantha was nearly as tall as she was flat-footed, but in the heels, the woman wore to match the evening gown, Sammie matched Sila’s five feet eight inches of height. Still, the younger woman almost unbalanced Sila with the fierce hugs.

“Not in this universe.”

“Who is your friend, Samantha?”

At the deep voice, Samantha and she broke apart. That’s when Sila finally took stock of the man that came in behind her friend. Her lips trembled and she knew her eyes slightly widened with the surprise she felt inwardly, upon viewing the incredibly handsome man. Incredibly fucking sexy, she added to herself.

He looked like a taller, more stalwart version of the screen stage idol, Humphrey Bogart, with the suave good looks, and muscle bound, tall body deliciously clothed in an elegant shirt, a white dinner jacket, and black slacks. His feet were encased in a shiny pair of shoes, while his dark brown hair was softly slicked down, making him look like a cross between a vampire and a hard-boiled detective from the 1940s film noir movies.

“Oh,” Samantha finally stopped suffocating her and broke away. “This is Sila, my closest friend. She’s from the alternate world I told you I came from, Ryk.” Samantha pulled Sila closer to the man. Up close she could see his ears were slightly pointed and his brows thick. And those luscious dark eyes of his were compelling her to think highly immoral thoughts. “Sila, this is my host and owner of Castleblanca, Count Ryk deBlanca.

“Welcome to Castleblanca,” she nearly creamed when he spoke in that eerily beautiful hard voice. His full mouth with its slight jagged scar tilted into a half snarl, a half smile. “It is my pleasure to meet you finally, Sila. Samantha has told me and my comrade Lazzus quite a bit about you. She never mentioned how stunningly beautiful you are.”

“We don’t have time for your flirting right now, Ryk. We need to fill Sila in on what’s happening before the Demoniacs get here. And I have to change and get back to the piano before they do. Now go away and find Laz. Give me some time with my friend, while you and he decide the best way to get out of here tonight, like you promised.”

“You are too dramatic, sweet Samantha, but I will take care of you and your paramour, my friend, just as promised. It’s a pleasure, I’ll see you later, kid.” Ryk smiled in Sila’s direction and she could have sworn she saw a set of gleaming incisors, which his delicious tongue flecked teasingly. Then he turned away and quickly left the room.

Sila flopped back down on the bed. “What the hell is going on, Samantha.”

Samantha chuckled. “You should be use to alternate worlds, Sila. You’re a gaming geek and programmer. I got stuck in this realm after visiting that theater we were going to. The ticket felt warm in my hand and I was awake when this blue fog just enclosed me and I wound up here in this room. Of course it is Ryk's room, and he’s sharing one with Laz right now, but it makes sense I’d go into Bogart’s or the main character’s bedroom. But I would have liked ending up in Laz’s since that was the character I drooled over the most in the movie...”

“Stop rattling, Samantha!” she hated raising her voice to her friend, but sometimes Sammie could just rattle on indefinitely. “Those tickets or that theatre takes people to movieland? This is a castle, not Rick’s Bar and Grill.”

“Rick had a classy club in the movie. Count Ryk has an upscale resort here, kind of a bed and breakfast complete with an elegant film noir dinner club. I am his piano player.” Samantha went on talking as if she wasn’t offended by the curt yell. “I wound up in his room after I was whisked away, but Lazzus was here visiting him at the time and I couldn’t’ help but fall in love with Laz. Now my poor Laz has to be hidden away from the Demoniacs who are the enemies of the Vamplars and rule this beautifully morbid world, well most of it.”

When Samantha stopped to breath, Sila jumped up and put a hand over her friend’s mouth. “Ok, take a break girl. So, you’re telling me this is a land taken over by some bad group called the Demoniacs and this Lazzus or Laz, is like a resistance fighter or something and Count Ryk a Bogie-look-alike, sorta, is trying to help Lazzus get away before these Demoniacs catch on to who Laz is or what he’s doing? Do we have that right?”

Samantha shook her head. “I promise to speak slower and less...if ya take...oh much better.”

Sila laughed as she removed her hand and Samantha sat down with her. “Ok go slow. I just got here. How can it be two weeks here and only two days back home gone by?”

“The alternate time realty thingy. It’s a good thing I beta test your games, kid.”

“Hey I’m older than you, why does everyone call me kid?”

“You look like a sweet kid with that impish face of yours and that short bob you always have your hair cut in.”

Sila ran a hand through her almost white blonde hair. Though near thirty, she guess she did have an impish, almost kid look to her. Though not as full figured as her friend, she still had enough that showed she was a full-grown woman.

“Well never mind, how come he was escorting you here then, and not the guy you are interested in?”

“Half-human, half vamps like Ryk have good hearing. Laz was in the room already, Ryk and I were on our way to meet him when he said he heard someone in here. This room is down the hall from Laz’s.”

“Oh.” Sila blinked her eyes, trying to take it all in. “So, if Ryk’s a vampire half-breed, what is Laz?”

“Oh he’s as human as you and I...well ok he’s part Demoniac. The Demoniacs are trying to take over this free part of their realm, but Laz is a resistance leader. He and Ryk, on the sly, have been trying to find ways to stop them from taking over. You got to admit, this is no worse than the games you write and program for a living.”

Sila had to agree with that point. If she could make wild alternate world holographic games that seemed real, why couldn’t there be real alternate type worlds not so far off from the games she programmed?

“So they want to imprison Laz for leading a resistance group. I suppose, you have to get him out of this realm or town? Like Laszlo in the movie.”

“Oh no, it’s Ryk I need to get out, but he won’t go. Ryk and Laz are cousins. Laz gets their anger up, but they can’t imprison him cause it’s against their international laws.”

Sila sat on the bed. “Ok this is getting a bit convoluted. Don’t you want to go home?”

“I couldn’t leave Laz, and I have no one, other than you and a few other good friends. And they went to the movie theater too. Did something happen to Keely or Alena?”

“Keely is the one that reminded me you came here, I’ve been looking for you all over. Alena hasn’t called me come to think of it, but Keely said she was with her the other day so I don’t think either one of them are missing.”

Samantha joined her on the bed, her face becoming serious. “I’m happy here with Laz. I am glad you got pelted into here. Maybe you can convince Ryk to get out of town. I don’t know how you’d get him back to our world...”

“Hold on a minute!” Sila stopped her quickly. “I thought I was dreaming at first. I finally realize it’s all real and I want to get you out of here. There has to be some way. And why is it these pesky Demoniacs are after Ryk and not Laz, since he is your resistance fighter?”

Reel-to-Real

By

Mila Ramos

Chapter One

Five years ago, Moira Castle couldn’t tell you her favorite color or the type of food she liked. She couldn’t tell you much about anything personal. All she remembered was waking up in a hospital bed on a cold September morning. Nurses stated she had been found unconscious in the Saintark River and stayed that way for well over three years. The only traces of her former life were a battered journal she had in an old purse and a Celtic wedding band with blue sapphire diamonds forming half the infinity symbol. No other forms of identification were found at the time of recovery. Her life was a blank page but at least she knew her name.

She began searching for the life she once had, but without knowing the starting point, it was hard to see the end. During the time of her coma, nothing in the newspapers or the media showed acknowledgement of recognition.

After some time, she gave up and accepted the truth and made way in her new life. She hated the toll the unknown had on her heart. Each search that ended with no answers added new wounds and deeper fears. There were lonely nights ridden with insomnia, she stayed up and watched figures out the window. There were idle fantasies and hopes one of those shadows would materialize into something recognizable but it never happened that way.

Vulnerability in its particular malevolent form of solitude tore at the base of her soul. She tried to deny it, she even tried to suppress the loneliness and the pain, but it was useless. Every uncertain emotion of the unknown sent her heart into rages of tears as her mind screamed with grievance. And that is precisely what it was—injustice; it was unfair that her mind couldn’t remember what her heart wished.

The tears came from the hidden placed inside a woman’s heart that saved fanciful dreams and tucked them away when there was nothing left to believe in. No woman should ever have to feel that in her life.

Those moments she looked down to the glittering, and exotically designed ring on her left hand. Who was it that shared the other half of the infinity ring? What type of man was he? Her only link revealed a past that was as mysterious as the circumstances that had led her to Castle Memorial Hospital. It took some time to officially re-establish herself within society.

A new last name, social security number, and driver’s license was the first of many steps in the search of familiarity. Adopting the name Castle from the Castle Memorial Hospital, Moira referred to the doctors and nurses, the only people she knew, as her family and friends who had taken care of her. It was through this experience she made friends with Nurse Kasey Newton and Dr. Sean Macat.

Now, here she was, two years after regaining consciousness, and five years after she severed the ties of her previous life. She was living life as a movie editor in Saintark, Georgia, listening to the rambling of her best friend, Kasey, trying to guess her past.

“I’ve got it Mo! You were the Queen of Sheba!”

Moira chuckled under her breath as she tried to focus on her work. “Is that the best you can come up with Kasey?”

“Well you didn’t like the Princess of Wales idea,” her friend commented as she bit into her pizza with gusto.

“The Princess of Wales died genius.”

“Or so they think that’s what really happened. Little did they know she was alive and well, living as a movie editor?”

“Here we go again,” Moira mumbled to herself as she hid a wave of laughter and pushed up her glasses.

“I heard that.”

“So, tell me. How long are we going to play this guessing game?” Moira asked as she continued reading the manuscript before her.

“Until one of my answers is the truth or Matthew McConaughey comes to marry you.”

“He’s a movie star, Kasey.”

“And you’re a script editor, amazing isn’t it?” She smiled wide.

Shaking her head and leaving her friend to her outrageous thinking, Moira continued with her editing. She usually did revisions on the weekends but exploration was on her mind for the following days. She wanted to venture and discover the areas of the town she considered her home.

More important matters were on her mind, which geared the exploration, but for now venturing outside of her apartment for leisure instead of work was the goal. As she absent-mindedly twirled her wedding band, once again thoughts of who held the other half of the infinity ring echoed in her mind.

Femme Fatale

by

Olivia Lorenz

“What the hell just happened?”

Sophie scrambled to her feet, yelping as her bag tumbled from her knees onto the ground to spill out a whole bunch of feminine clutter: lipstick, compact, purse, a spare pair of nylons…

Nylons? Since when did you wear nylons, Sophie Price?

Hurriedly gathering the offending items and shoving them back into her bag, she glanced down and saw that she was indeed wearing nylons, and what’s more, she’d better be grateful for that spare pair—because what with landing on her ass in the middle of nowhere, she’d just put a run in them.

Last time she’d looked, she’d been wearing a pair of jeans and one of those ironic Hello Kitty t-shirts with a black pullover tied over her shoulders in what she always hoped was a French chic style. Her hair had been tied with a scrunchie because she couldn’t be bothered to do anything with it until she’d gone to Sergio’s for a cut and touch-up on her roots. She’d hardly been dressed to kill, but she’d only been meeting her sister for a movie-thon at the local cinema.

But now… Now she was wearing a dogtooth skirt suit with a boxy jacket that nipped in at the waist, a pencil skirt that reached to just below her knees, a pair of elegant strappy heels, black satin gloves and what felt like a beret on her head. And nylons. She was wearing nylons, with a suspender belt and everything, and it felt…draughty. Maybe in the right circumstances it could be sexy, but right now was not one of those moments.

Her hair was now a glossy chestnut shade, and it was loose. She could feel it tumbling over her shoulders in elegant waves. It was the kind of style that, if she’d had it done for real at home, she’d have spent the whole night wandering around trying not to move her head.

“Okay,” Sophie muttered, snapping her bag shut. “This is too weird. Too, too weird.” She had another thought and opened the bag again, rifling through it. She opened the compact and glanced into the mirror, checking her reflection. Yes, it was still her. Or at least, her features were still the same, even if the make-up wasn’t. Gone was the ‘nude lips, big eyes’ look she’d been perfecting over the last few months, and in its place was a strong, yet ultra-feminine look: pale matte complexion, a touch of blush, minimal eye-shadow yet plenty of mascara, disdainful brows and bold lips.

Sophie studied her new look. It suited her, she decided, and then she dropped the compact back into her bag and continued to search through it. Where was her phone? God, she hoped she hadn’t lost it again. It had a shell-pink cover that had looked cute in the shop, but in reality it scratched really badly. She was always dropping it and forgetting where she’d put it. Jen, her sister, kept telling her to strap it to her wrist or something, just so she’d know where it was…

“Jen!”

Sophie closed her bag again and stood up, looking around. She didn’t take in any of the surroundings at first: her main thought was for her sister.

Jennifer sat on the side of road, holding her head in her hands. Sophie went over to her, and as she moved, it was as if the world moved, too: as if her few steps across the road towards her sister were a signal for life to begin again.

A car honked at her and Sophie jumped, startled by the antiquated sound. The car was low-slung and black, with running boards along the side, the kind of car only found in museums…or seen in old movies. She hurried out of its way and crouched down beside Jen, putting an arm around her and taking her hand.

“Jen, are you okay?” She gazed down at her sister, who was dressed in wide black trousers and a white jacket with a twisted gold trim. Her hair wasn’t too different from real life: a blonde bob with curls at the ends, a deceptively simple style that took her about an hour to achieve. Now the curls were drooping a little as Jen ran her hands through her hair and tried a wobbly smile.

“Think so. I’m just a bit dizzy, that’s all.”

Sophie frowned. Jen looked ready to throw up. Her skin was pale and her hand was clammy. “Do you remember what happened?”

Jen shook her head and then groaned at the movement. “We were at the movies. Went to see that film noir screening, back-to-back 1940s classics… I remember we went out after The Maltese Falcon to get some popcorn…”

“You had a huge hot-dog,” Sophie told her. “With extra onions.”

“Maybe that’s why I feel so sick.” Jen huddled on the pavement. “What then? You were going to check the parking meter…”

“And then I decided not to bother because it was raining,” Sophie said. “It wasn’t just raining, there was a full-blown storm going on out there! I wasn’t going to go outside in all that weather just to check the meter.”

“I bet we’ve got a ticket.”

“Maybe, but right now we’ve got bigger things to worry about,” Sophie said. “So you don’t remember what happened at the start of The Big Sleep?”

Jen wrinkled her nose, perplexed. “Of course I do, it’s when Marlowe goes to the Sternwood’s place and he meets the general in the orchid house.”

“Not in the film, silly. I mean you don’t remember what happened to us.” Sophie looked at her hopefully. “The storm? The thunder so loud you couldn’t hear the dialogue? Then something weird happened. I guess a strike of lightning or something must’ve shorted out the electrics…”

“The screen went all fuzzy,” Jen recalled with effort, still rubbing her head. “And then it went dark. You screamed…”

“No, that was you. I never scream.”

Jen’s smile was weak. “You scream at spiders.”

“That’s different,” Sophie said. “I’m not scared of the dark, or power-cuts, or…or even sudden transportations from one world into another.”

“What?”

“Look around you.” Sophie waved a hand and tried to give her sister a confident smile. “I don’t think we’re in Kansas any more, Jen.”

The sisters gazed at their surroundings, taking it all in for the first time.

They were sitting on the pavement of a wide street, opposite a bookseller, a boutique and a funeral director’s. The shop fronts were painted in dark colours, green and burgundy, and had frosted glass with elegant black lettering and blinds at the doors. The street was clean, with not even a speck of dirt let alone a discarded Coke can or sandwich wrapper. The cars that drove past at speeds that could only be described as sedate were either black—Sophie recognised Ford’s signature colour, at least—or cream.

The people going about their business were immaculately dressed in sharp suits and classy outfits. Even the down-at-heels looked good. They cast the occasional glance down at the two women, but no one approached them. This was obviously a place where people kept to themselves and tried not to get involved in anything out of the ordinary. Usually that was exactly what Sophie would have done, but this time she was out of the ordinary and she thought she could use some help.

It was quiet. No pollution. No queues. The air had a slightly faded quality, like that of a sepia photograph: slightly under-exposed, although they could see things clearly. It seemed to tint the buildings, the cars and the people, creating a feeling of illusion and impermanence. Sophie could only hope that it was, and that she and Jen would soon be on their way home.

Finally Jen found her voice. “Oh, God. What the…? How could this happen?”

“You know,” said Sophie as lightly as she could, “while I’d love to find an answer to that question, I don’t think it’s going to help us as much as an answer to ‘How do we get the hell out of here?”

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