All That Glitters
by Cheryll (Gabby) Ganzel
Sarah smiled as she watched her new husband Daniel dance with Rose, one of her bridesmaids. She could tell from across the dance floor that Rose was as smitten by Daniel as she was. What woman wouldn't be? He was always the most handsome man in the room, the best dressed, the best dancer, the best everything. He had a way of making you feel you were the only woman that mattered. You were special. There was no place he would rather be, than be with you.
Sarah couldn't stop smiling. She was giddy with love and happiness. Okay, so maybe three glasses of champagne helped a little. Still, she couldn't believe how lucky she was.
Daniel waltzed into her life, literally, about a year ago. She had been taking ballroom dance lessons at Studio 9 and once every three months they held a dance. All the women wore their most beautiful ballroom gowns and the men dressed in their best rented tuxedos.
Sarah stood watching the dancers. A soft warm breath caressed her skin, sending shivers down her spine as an unfamiliar voice whispered in her ear, "Sarah, may I have this dance?"
A strong, firm hand guided her to the dance floor. She turned and faced her partner, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.
"The Viennese Waltz, my favorite," he said as they glided across the floor. "I'm Daniel. Nice to meet you Sarah."
"How did you know my name was Sarah?"
"Why wouldn't I know the name of the most beautiful woman I've ever seen?" He smiled at her. She had always thought of herself as average, neither beautiful nor unattractive, but tonight, she did feel beautiful. He made her feel beautiful. Before the first dance was over, she was completely lost, totally in love.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
"May I have this dance?"
Sarah turned to face her partner. "I have a better idea. Let's see if we can escape this crowd for a few minutes."
Daniel smiled down at her. "Great idea. I'll grab a couple of glasses of champagne and meet you in your father's study. We can sneak out and go down to the beach from there."
"I think you should go first and I'll grab the champagne. If I leave you alone, all these women will be dragging you out on the dance floor. I won't see you for hours!"
Daniel laughed and kissed her softly. "Okay, I'm out of here. See you in a few minutes."
Daniel headed for the study, deftly dodging a couple of would be dance partners. Sarah grabbed a couple of glasses of champagne and followed close behind.
Strong waves pounded the dark sand just a few yards away. Hidden by beach grass, they embraced, relieved to finally escape their wedding guests. Daniel sat behind Sarah, tucking her against him and wrapping his arms around her. He kissed her ear and the side of her neck. "I love you," he whispered.
"I love you! I can't wait until tomorrow. I finally get to see your home, our home."
"You've seen it hundreds of times."
"Only in pictures. Tomorrow I get to see it for real."
"Are you sure you don't want to go on a honeymoon first? We can go any where in the world you want, Paris, Rome, London."
"No, being with you in our home will be honeymoon enough for me. I don't want to share you with crowds of strangers."
Suddenly he stopped kissing her. His arms grew tense. "Sarah, there's something I need to tell you. It's about Claire."
She leaned her head back and looked up at him. "Claire?"
He stood and pulled her up with him. "Claire is my first wife."
"Why didn't you tell me you were married before? So I'm your second wife. Just about everybody's been married before. I just don't understand why you didn't tell me."
"You're not my second wife either."
"WHAT? So I'm your third wife?"
"Fourth, actually."
"Oh for God's sake! Do you always wait until your wedding night to tell your new wife about all the old wives?"
"Usually I wait until after the honeymoon, and then I send the other wives on vacation for a couple of weeks until my new wife has a chance to get used to..."
"WHAT?" What do you mean, you send them on vacation? You're still married to them? They still live in the house? Your house?"
"Yes, I couldn't send Bonnie or Claire on vacation because the babies are due in a few weeks and Janet didn't want to go without them."
"BABIES! They are going to have BABIES?"
"Don't worry. It's a huge house. There's plenty of room for everyone."
Sarah screamed and ran back toward the house. Daniel followed close behind her.
He stood across from her on the other side of her father's desk. "Sarah, we can work this out. You may not be my first wife, but you are the love of my life."
Sarah opened the desk drawer and pulled out her father's pistol. She held it steady, using both hands. "Well, if I can't be first, at least I'll be last," she said and gently squeezed the trigger.
Snowdrift
by Tessa Blue Jones
Needles. That's what it feels like on the bottoms of my feet. Icy needles coming clear through my footed pajamas.
Footed pajamas? Why am I wearing something so ludicrous, anyway? The wide yellow and black stripes contrast weirdly with glowing white snow, bright despite the blackness of night. I look like some sort of mutant bumblebee. When did I get these? I don't remember changing clothes. Come to think of it, I don't remember anything other than Being Here.
Blowing snow piles in drifts high up on the trunks of fully-laden cherry trees. Wait. What? Cherries in winter? I reach up, pluck a cherry and put it to my nose. It smells like a cherry. When I put it in my mouth and bite it, the juice running down my throat is sweet, rich and cold. But not frozen. I spit out the seed and grab a few more cherries, then stop as I sense movement to my side.
Instantly I hunker down, making myself as small as possible.
It's another person, dressed in those same stupid pajamas, flailing through a deep snowdrift about 25 yards away. A fellow bumblebee. He doesn't see me so I holler and wave wildly to him. He turns, takes one look at me, and flees.
I squat there in the snow, stupidly, unable to move, unable to think, unable to breathe. Then I realize I've been holding my breath. The air whooshes out of my lungs. When I take another breath, the cold sears my lungs like fire. I'm starting to shiver now, so I get up and move in the same direction of my fellow bumblebee.
The snow stops, and in the distance I see a light, flickering, moving around. A flashlight? Searchlight? Walking turns into a jog and then to a flat-out run as I try to catch up to it. Or to the guy. To anything or anyone that can give me some answers.
I'm almost out of the cherry grove when the ground starts a violent shaking. Earthquake! I fall flat on my back, snow spilling over my face and snaking into my pajamas. I gasp, but wait until the shaking stops before leaping up to jiggle the snow out of my clothes. Cold. So cold. Have I ever been warm? I can't remember.
A fresh round of snow blows into my face. I squint my eyes and keep them on the flickering light. I follow it so I can leave this place and go back to… what? Where? I struggle to remember but everything in my brain is a blank canvas. It feels like the landscape of white, drifting snow, numb and silent. I trudge on.
It's getting stronger now, some sort of illuminating beam, making eerie patterns on the snow as it shines through the fully-leafed limbs of some sort of nut tree. I ignore my tummy in favor of tracking down the light.
There. My fellow bumblebee from earlier is just ahead. He's got his back to me and the muscles in his upper back are bulging as he tries to push… what? What is he doing? I reach him, finally, just as the snow swirls its last. He flings a wild look over his shoulder at me.
Oh. My. God.
The landscape abruptly ends, snow piled high as my knees. There is darkness beyond, except for a thin beam of light coming from outside the window. No, not window, exactly. It's curved as it thrusts up then disappears in the darkness. I join him in pushing against the cold glass, until I see something come toward
us. I shrink away in horror.
A hand. A giant, three-fingered green hand, with circular pads for fingertips. I feel an upward lift and I see myself reflected dozens of times in its multifaceted eye. The hand moves us away from its eye and gives us a sharp shake, which makes the guy and I clutch each other in an attempt to stay upright.
Earthquake.
One more sudden jolt and then everything stills. Everything but our screams, that is, which are muffled by newly-falling snow.
The thin beam of light moves on. I run back to the glass and stare as the creature picks up another glass globe, giving it a violent shake before putting it back down. It watches the swirling snow inside the glass. Apparently we're all on some kind of shelf, and as the creature picked up a third, the second globe teeters at the edge then falls.
The green thing puts the third globe down and bends over. When it straightens up, I see it has pieces of shattered glass and two people in its hand. They are utterly still and look like broken dolls. One pad-tipped finger pushes at the yellow and black striped pajamas, but they don't move. It tosses them aside. They lie, forlornly, in a bent and twisted pile on the shelf.
My bumblebee-dressed partner and I stare at them, then at each other. In unison, we turn and run back the way we came (the middle?) grabbing nuts and cherries as we go, stuffing them inside our footed pajamas, falling down repeatedly as the child/alien shakes our new world.
You just can't argue with reality.