The Alchemist

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“Subject 110, how do you feel today?” Asked the Alchemist.
Tisha slowly got to her feet, flexing and stretching like a cat after a long nap. Looking up at the scholarly looking old man, “Ah, Doc X is once again gracing me with his presence. If you must know, fantastic. But you can’t keep me in here forever and keep shoot me up with all kinds of weird chemicals! You do know Spider-Man is only a comic right? No mutation going on here.” She emphasized by pointing to her wrists.
The old man narrowed his eyes in annoyance, “I’m doing more for you than you could ever possible fathom. One more shot and then on to your first test. Afterward, I’ll let you sleep.” He unlocked her cell and walked in, carrying a large syringe filled with thick silver liquid, moving and swirling on its own. “Give me your right arm.”
Tisha belligerently sat on her cot, arms crossed. The orderly in the corner started cracking his knuckles and walked over to her. The girl grudgingly rolled up her sleeve, glaring at both the orderly and the doctor in equal contempt. The Alchemist plunged it into her arm, causing the girl to wince and then sigh euphorically as the chemical worked its way inside her. Then she fell onto her hands and knees, hacking and coughing, silver tinted saliva dripping and splattering on the cell floor.
“Aaah, my dear, you see? The treatments are working! Please report to the Training Room when you’re done…making a mess.”

Tiny Tale by Tiff the Traveler
Art titled Silver Lining by Emyah

Wasted Time

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Malya had gotten so lost navigating through Downtown that she didn’t realize her appointment is now in 5 minutes.
She is still 15 minutes away.
She was going to be late for sure late, and she did NOT want to lose this opportunity of a lifetime: being a writer for THE premier newspaper of the City. she was running through downtown, when the wind picked up, blowing up dust and trash, causing her to cough and wave away bits of paper. Then a large pink and black flyer hit her square in the face, she grabbed it and tried to throw it but it stuck to her fingers. The headline on the flyer caught her attention:
“ARE YOU IN NEED OF MORE TIME???
The Land of Lost Minutes is a great place to go if your Personal Time Allotment needs.”
She read the rest of the flyer in disbelief, but possibility started to slice through her doubt. This City was full of strange happenings, why couldn’t this be true as well? She was already too late for her appointment, so what did she have to lose but more time?
She made a decision.
In less than 2 minutes she was at the address listed on the flyer, a corner shop called ‘Timeless Oddities’, taking a deep breath, she pushed through the front door.

–Tiny Tale by Tiff the Traveler
–Art by Even Liu

Mystery Box

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Lesha had to know. She saw her mother sneaking in a small box, instantly igniting her curiosity.
“Mum, what is that?”
Mum turned white, looking scared “Dear, that box is none of your business, understood? You’ll get no books or dessert for a month if I catch you near it. Promise me you’ll stay away.”
Lesha sighed, “Ok, I promise.”
Lesha was true to her word. For a week. She couldn’t control herself, she HAD to open that box. She waited til Mum went to work and Nurse fell asleep, and she snuck into the back closet, and pulled out the infamous box. It was surprisingly heavy, like it was packed full of bricks. She lugged it to her room, locking the door behind her.
Finally.
Finally she could find out what is in the box! Her birthday present? All of Mum’s secrets from when she was a little girl? Candy? Candy would be nice, she thought as she spliced through the tape. She pried through the last strip, and flipped open the box.
NOT candy.

–Words Tiff the Traveler,
–Art: Out Comes the Night by Ly Lou

Flying, Snarling, Dripping, Walking

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Witches on their brooms flying,
Cats on the tombstones crying,
Moon in the sky smiling,
It’s Halloween once more!
Monsters on the move snarling,
Creatures in the woods prowling,
Imps jumping around dancing,
It’s Halloween once more!
Vampires with their fangs dripping,
Undead with their brains chewing,
Ghosts in the wind haunting,
It’s Halloween once more!
Children in costumes walking,
Parents trailing behind laughing,
Neighbors with candy giving,
It’s Halloween once more!

-Words by by Tiff the Traveler,
-Art by Ryta

Bring Back Record Players!

Walk through the front door, and the smell of old cardboard and ink, slight decay and age hits your nostrils. While at the same time, ears are greeted by the best of Chuck Berry crackling through the air, and eyes rest on a proverbial museum of music from years past. Strolling around the small store, you let your hands drift over cardboard album covers of Elvis Presley, Van Halen, and the Andrews Sisters, wishing you could take them all home. But regardless you are thrilled: you have finally found YOUR music store, because everyone should have their own! Just for a moment, you can forget about things like iTunes and Spotify, and just enjoy the authentic sound of record player music. You promise yourself that soon enough, you will buy your own player, and spend your days listening to that crackling clear music while dreaming away.

Ah, sorry I had to reminisce for a moment about last Sunday’s foray into my local records store. I think the owner is getting kind of annoyed with me because I walk through every Sunday, just to smell that cardboard, hear that music quality, and to peruse that collection. But this time, I decided to take pics and really check out all the stuff he had scattered about the store.

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I think my grandparents had one of these.

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My mom still has her collection stored somewhere and she still will not let me touch them!

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Looks like the record player and the CD are trying to console each other over the fact that they’re not used as much anymore.

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Never had the privilege of employing these to satisfy my music needs, a little before I entered the music scene, or just the scene in general haha.

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Not to date myself or anything, but I distinctly remember recording my first cassette, a beautiful memory full of neon clothes, crimped hair, and Aerosmith.

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This was a new addition: Steampunk art! It’s called Javaplex…I think it’s trying to be a coffee maker.

Music has come such a far way, with the norm now being completely digital (haven’t touched a music CD in years). It’s funny though that we have access to some of the best high quality players for music to date, but lots of us still love the sound of music coming out of a record player (definitely including me). I swear to you, nothing sounds better than Frank Sinatra crooning away from a record player nestled in the corner of the room (my room).

What do you think? What was your favorite type of music player growing up? Lemme know down below!

When an Epic Sea Battle Disappears

Art by Florian Prou

Art by Florian Prou

“WHAT HAPPENED?! How did this puddle get here?” Shouted the Museum Director, joining the Deputy in front of the painting.
It had originally depicted an epic battle between the Spanish and the British on the high seas, now it just depicted the high seas. No ships in sight. The Deputy had noticed it, and dragged in the Director from vacation. They still opened the museum, but partitioned off the room with the painting.
While the men stood there staring at the scene, a small boy trotted into the room towards the deputy and pulled on his sleeve. The Deputy forced a smile while bending down to the child’s level. “Hullo, what can I do for you? Are you lost?”
The boy looked sheepish, and he pulled out three ships from behind his back and showed the man. Ships that looked exactly like the ones originally in the painting. Still dripping wet. “I sowwie mithter” the boy said.
Trying to stay calm, the man asked “Young man, where did you get those?”
The boy looked down and stared at the ships. “I learned thith game from my muvver, but pleath don’t tell her. I can put the thips back.”
Shocked, he told the boy to wait. He asked the Director to get started on the report, and he would be there momentarily to finish it. He told the boy he wouldn’t tell a soul if he fixed the painting.
The boy smiled and walked over to the painting. Placing the ships into the puddle and placing a chubby hand onto the frame, he muttered something under his breath. The Deputy will never forget what he saw: like watching a theatre moving picture go backwards. In less than a minute, the floor was dry and the painting was fully restored except for the tiny handprint on the frame. As the boy walked out of the room, the Deputy wondered how he was going to tell the Director.