The Novella Life of Illuscia Nester Himawari

There was once a boy in Burma named Soe Than. He was poor, and an orphan, and worked all his days as a laborer. The rest of the time, he painted. Soe Than had no brushes, so he used sticks, and cloth, and even with just these things painted such amazing pictures that people would marvel. Many of his paintings were of things he’d never seen, like tall distant mountains, grey and blue and ringed in mist or wide green rivers all jade green, or tigers. Always tigers. Most often, tigers. After his day laboring he would sit under a teak tree and people would come and watch, and this simple boy’s fame as an artist spread throughout the village, and even through the province. Then one day Soe Than was visited by a Nat, who came to him as he painted and swirled around him all foggy spirit and said “I have a gift for you. Paint the world.” And when Soe Than woke as if from a dream, he was holding a golden paintbrush. Soe Than dipped the brush, and began to paint. First he ...

Mommy... Johnny brought a gun to school, He told his friends that it was cool, And when he pulled the trigger back, It shot with a great crack. Mommy, I was a good girl, I did What I was told, I went to school, I got straight A's, I even got the gold! But Mommy, when I went to school that day, I never said good-bye, I'm sorry Mommy, I had to go, But Mommy, please don't cry. When Johnny shot the gun, He hit me and another, And all because Johnny, Got the gun from his older brother. Mommy, please tell Daddy; That I love him very much, And please tell Trevor; my boyfriend; That it wasn't just a crush. And tell my little sister; That she is the only one now, And tell my dear sweet grandmother; I'll be waiting for her now, And tell my wonderful friends; That they always were the best; Mommy, I'm not the first, I'm no better than the rest. Mommy, tell my teachers; I won't show up for class, And never to forget this, And please ...

I used to live in New Jersey in an old Victorian, right in the smack dab middle of the boonies. Where I lived, cell phones rarely get reception. Back a few decades ago, when I was a kid, a housing development went up. Big places. They cleared a few miles of the Barrens for it. It was a stones throw from my place. Once the places were finished, people moved in. City people, really. It was either old people or new families with real young kids. People that wanted to either wind their life down or start a new one up. Nothing special. I knew a handful of the kids through elementary school, but none of them were exactly my age. They were normal. When the people moved in, my mom made an effort to meet everyone, with us being so close and all. There was one guy that stuck out in my mind, mainly because he was bald, yet young. Probably 38 at the oldest, I want to say. My mom said not to say anything because he might have a disease or something like that. Years went by. I grew up and went into...

Incident Report: The Kiamuck Event Summary: The exact details of the origin of the event are still being investigated, but some information has been retrieved. The event began at 01:47 October 21st 2004 at the loading docks located 20 miles from Kiamuck, Nunavut. The loading dock was utilized by the local populace to offload supplies from passing shipping vessels. Due to the topography of the waters around the island, an unusually deep channel was present along the shore, allowing large tankers to easily maneuver around the island and providing an effective shortcut back to shipping lanes. The island was used as a refueling and resupply depot for vessels leaving the inner islands, and the town that sprung up had a population estimated at 137 people. The town was located on the southeast side of the island, due to the presence of a small protected bay and a sheltering hill line on that side of the island. Also of importance was a small industrial compound that had been set up on the we...

I want to start off by saying if you want an answer at the end, prepare to be disappointed. There just isn't one. I was an intern at Nickelodeon Studios for a year in 2005 for my degree in animation. It wasn't paid of course, most internships aren't, but it did have some perks beyond education. To adults it might not seem like a big one, but most kids at the time would shit themselves over it. Since I worked directly with the editors and animators, I got to view the new episodes days before they aired. I'll get right to it without giving too many unnecessary details. They had very recently made the Spongebob movie and the entire staff was somewhat sapped of creativity so it took them longer to start up the season. But the delay lasted longer for more upsetting reasons. There was a problem with the series 4 premier that set everyone and everything back for several months. Me and two other interns were in the editing room along with the lead animators and sound editors fo...

I never saw the ocean till I was nineteen, and if I ever see it again it will be too goddamn soon. I was a child, coming out of the train, fresh from Amarillo, into San Diego and all her glory. The sight of it, all that water and the blind crushing power of the surf, filled me with dread. I’d seen water before, lakes, plenty big, but that was nothing like this. I don’t think I can describe what it was like that first time, and further more, I’m not sure I care too. You can imagine the state I was in when a few weeks later they gave me a rifle and put me on a boat. When I stopped vomiting up everything that I ate, I decided that I might not kill myself after all. Not being able to see the land, and that ceaseless chaotic, rocking of the waves; I remember thinking that the war had to be a step up from this. Kids can be so fucking stupid. I had such a giddy sense of glee when I saw the island, and it’s solid banks. They transferred us to a smaller boat in the middle of the ni...

Normally you sleep soundly, but the thunderstorm raging outside is stirring you from your sleep. You begin to doze, then another crash jolts you awake. The cycle lasts most of the night. So you lay there, eyes open and outward, looking at your room stretching out before you in oblong shadows. Your eyes move from nameless object, to object, until you reach your mirror, sitting adjacent to you across the room. Suddenly a flash of lighting, and the mirror flickers in illumination. For a scant second the mirror revels to you dozens of faces, silhouettes within its frame, mouths open and eyes blackened. They stare out at you, their black pupils fixed upon your face. Then it is done. Are you sure of what you have seen? Unsettled, you don’t sleep for the rest of the evening. The next morning you remove the mirror from your wall and toss it in the trash. It didn’t matter if the vision you had seen was of truth or falsehood, you wanted to be rid of that mirror. In fact, you scrap e...

If you are the type who eats out regularly, one day a stranger might join you at the table. This stranger will always appear to be of your age and sex, and he (if it is a he) will only appear if you are alone. No matter what style of restaurant it is, he will always be carrying his own plate of food. After a few seconds, he will look directly at you and say, “You seem like an interesting person. May I know you better?” Say yes, and he will begin to ask you questions about yourself in between bites. These questions will be innocuous enough at first: what your name is, what you do for a living, and so forth, but should you open your mouth to answer, you will be forced to tell the truth, even if you do not consciously know what the truth is. Remain silent, and the stranger will scowl at you, pick up his plate, and leave. You will never see him again. If you do indulge his questions, however, they will grow darker and darker as the food leaves his plate, and it will become hard...