From "The Vagabond King" by James Conway

Like some impassioned conquistador, driven mad from the heat and humidity of the deepest jungle, I slashed my way through the vines and undergrowth and longed to lay siege to her city, that legendary city of gold that all boys my age know must exist. For, behind the walls of that city, was a secret garden where nightingales sang, fountains laughed beneath the stars and plump, pendulous fruits strained at the bending branches of trees. And, enclosed behind the high walls of her most secret garden, grew the rarest of flowers which opened its velvet petals and unfolded its musty fragrance beneath the yellow moon.

From "Rostov Rising" by Roger Bourke White Jr.

Ifrit Zaneem is telling the history of Ifrits and Dragons in the Plane of Fire...

“Tell me more about Queen Almidahl,” I said to Zaneem.

“When we Ifrits first came to this plane, she was First Guardian of the Red Dragons. It was she who led the Dragons against us when we first sought to make a home here.

“At first they hurt us grievously. We lived as furtive beings on the edges of the realm and many of our kind did flee elsewhere, as the Dragons wished. But with time those of us who stayed became stronger and adapted to this realm, so that we not only became immune to Dragon breath but came to enjoy it! Ah … I may not be able to experience the joys of the heart that you and the Queen discussed, but you cannot experience the joys of being bathed from head to toe in Dragon flame.

“After that change came about, we Ifrits found ourselves seeking Dragons out. They could still hurt us if we were not careful, but we would bait them to breathe on us, then scamper away. Those who now live in the city went one step further: They captured young Reds and trained them to be pets. There are now many in the city."

From "Frothy Coffee Stories" by Tabitca Cope

He tried to blend into the back ground, another grey suited man, in a sea of grey suits all leaving their grey offices to head their grey way home. He hoped they went home to a warm family to bring some light into their lives, as she had to his. He looked ahead, the problem would be once she went over the bridge as the crowd would disperse and head for the station and he would still be there following her. She was heading past the bridge and down to the riverside. There wouldn’t be many places to hide once she hit the path. Both sides of the path had been cleared of bushes so no one could hide there and spring out on the unwary. He had applauded it at the time now he wished they had left some in situ. He considered and then pulled out a plastic cagoule from his pocket and a woolly pull on hat. Dressed in these his suit was covered and he looked like someone walking a dog. Satisfied he followed her down.

From "Covert Dreams" by Michael Meyer

It was 1984 and people were doing crazy things to other people in the name of one thing or another, and Dabbie Hodson could see it clearly. She had but seconds to live. And just because she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She was helpless to do anything about it, but her eyes would be her weapon. They would remain open, probing, pleading, rebelling.

“I really don’t know that much.” She repeated this over and over, but seemingly on deaf ears, until she realized the terrible choice of words she had used. That much? What was that supposed to mean? How was he to take such a thing?

From "Not Forgotten" by Bonnie Taylor

Lilly sat alone, listening to the nothingness and staring at the flickering candle on the table. The fire cracked and snapped and she turned her attention there. She stared in to the flames, humming away like a secret machine systematically eating at the logs and crumbling them in to bright red bricks below.  Was there something else in there? Lilly could swear she saw something else in the fire. She tilted her head and looked from another angle. The apparition was getting larger and closer. Lilly slid from the couch and crawled toward the fire. There seemed to be something in there moving independently from the flame. As she reached the hearth the fire cracked and she turned away not wanting to get embers in her eyes or face. When she turned back to the fire, it was there. It was staring at her as large as life. She could see every freckle, every little laugh line. It was her mothers’ face in the fire. As quickly as Lilly made the connection in her mind, the face disappeared. Lilly shook her head and sighed, “Imagination really sucks!”

From "The Presence - The Presents" by Anne LaMonte

Anne took an incorrect medication that is killing her.

 

It was April Fool’s Day when a doctor looked Anne straight in her eyes stating that if her bleeding didn’t stop, she’d be dead by the end of the day.  That announcement was NOT a bad joke.  That would not be funny, anyway!  Unbelievable thoughts raced through Anne’s mind as she heard that her fever must break before she could receive a blood transfusion.  Without it, there was NOT much hope!  This news shook Anne to her soul. She finally heard that her bruising indicated internal bleeding that might kill her.  

About three in the afternoon, she heard Father Joe’s shuffle coming down the hallway.

Without delay, that priest started anointing his sick parishioner.  As his healing hands moved over Anne’s forehead- with God as her witness- her body felt on fire.  Her tears flowed through his prayers. Without uttering a word, she remained mystified as he finished his sacramental blessing then left her hospital room.... she stopped crying because Anne felt a comforting “presence.”  It lulled her into very sound sleep.

After midnight, as a night nurse took Anne’s vital signs...

From "My ArmOR" by Cynthia Meyers-Hanson

I was thrown- like a rag doll- crushing my left arm; a ‘man of the cloth’ delivers an explanation for my fall...

 

“What’s a deliverance minister do? Does he play a banjo riverside?” I joked.

 

“It’s similar to an exorcist,” My brother explained.  

 

I dodged thoughts as my sibling, an ex-preacher, spoke about freeing evil entities. “It’s scary work!”  Before I asked for clarification, he continued, “When you goad an evil spirit, they attack more trying to control you.  If you free them from entanglement with another’s soul, they need a place to go so they haunt and taunt you.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“They need to own a body, so they come after you.”

 

Days later, I stood with a Deliverance Minister joking about dueling banjos.  He prayed over some people asking God to relieve them of curses and sins as well as show them the path away from the power of the devil.  A mighty wind blew in as he prayed; when some of us gathered looked up a nearby car had a message license plate that read, “Get Out!” How apropos!