You lost your chance. You can’t escape. You now have to listen to me vent all of my woes.

Timeline/World: Newfound Worlds – Erisia – Peculiar
Current Date: January 8, 1402

Character: Alessio Speziale
Race: Human
Age: 43
Current residence: Peculiar, Erisia
 

---

There are times when I wonder if I did the right thing, leaving Sadb behind. Then again, it was her decision, and I wasn’t about to force her hand. It wasn’t so much that she was wary of this new world we were headed in, but I think that even though Saoirse was gone and Sadb truly had no other connections out there in the world, there was just the one person about whom she didn’t want to leave behind.

A man I had only crossed a few times before, but Sadb had confided in me that her heart longed for him. Marriages in Rockbourne are final—or they were up until we left, I have no idea as to whether or not that has changed now. If you are wed to someone, the only way a woman may be paired to another man is through the death of her husband. Whereas the men, of course, could pick any unwed woman they wanted and do just that, wed her.

It felt barbaric, in a way. I’ve never understood it and I had no sway in changing that. When I married Saoirse, Sadb offered herself to our union so that the other choices she had would not come to be, I couldn’t blame her. She told me about the suitors that had asked for her hand and while I am biased towards my own self in that regard, the other men were not great choices.

When Gina was offered to me after the passing of her husband, I took her into the union because it felt like the right thing to do, and I have no regret whatsoever about that decision.

So that I ended up having to fake my own death worked out well for Sadb, from what little news I have received from her in the time we’ve been gone—we said we would only send or request information if it was absolutely necessary—she told me that she was now married to the man that made her heart beat true. I am happy for her.

As we were on the transport, I remember that I sort of went through what I’d done with my life. A little review of some of the more important events. Meeting Saoirse for the first time, falling in love with her. Growing fond of her sister enough to be willing to add her to our union on the same day that I took Saoirse as my wife. Meeting Gina for the first time, helping her settle into our home. All things that changed me into the man I am now.

I do remember that there was one particular memory that stood out to me on that day, and it had been on one of the last visits I’d ever had to Saoirse before she passed. The memory itself doesn’t even have to do with her. I barely remember that visit other than it was much of the same old. She complained, huffed, and ranted about how I needed to bring her back home because her children needed her. The children didn’t need her, and they were doing fine. I watched Santos slowly come alive after her removal from the house; it was a slow, almost painful process but I watched it happen.

From that visit, however, what I truly remembered was more my encounter with a nurse who was walking a patient—a younger woman who could have been Sati’s age back then—back to her room. The patient had a death grip on the nurse’s arm and was going on about—in a sweet, singsong little voice—how she had now caught the nurse, how said nurse—a patient young man, it seemed—couldn’t escape. Now, he would have to listen to her vent all of her woes.

It made me smile a little but, I think, in a way, what really made me smile is the fact that I remember that the nurse honestly looked amused by her antics, as though this was the norm for her.

Not all of the patients in the building were dangerous, violent, or required to be locked behind heavy doors and secured away. Some were there because they just had a few issues to work with and once that was taken care of, they could go home. I don’t know how long that young woman had been there or how long she would be spending there, but what I do know is that at the very least, on that day, it did look as though she was having a good day, all in all.

I don’t really know why that memory stayed with me. I don’t. I do remember even talking about the little scene to Gina when I got home after my visit to Saoirse. It made both of us smile, at least just a little. A lot of people seem to think that the psychiatric building is all screams and fights and weeping but really, it’s not.

Final Word Count: 834

I don’t care about any of this, but if it makes you happy, I won’t say another word about it.

Timeline/World: Until Tomorrow – Hopeful Beginnings
Current Date: December 20, 2028

Character: Alessio Speziale
Race: Human
Age: 43
Current residence: Klahanie, Washington
 

---

Once in a blue moon, I will have to work with an external team on a project. This is rare, something I’ve honestly never gotten used to. At this point, years down the road from the time I was first hired here and then moved up the ranks, this has happened three times. The first time it happened, I was barely present enough to warrant understanding what it was all about.

When teams have to work together, the atmosphere is usually fairly tense, people are protective of their equipment or their things, and they don’t care much to share their immaculately kept workplaces so, I get it, I do. Some are more than willing to open up their work areas for others, but the general consensus is that cleaning up after a rare, but big shared project like this is a frustration because most of the people coming in from the outside only pack up their own things quickly and go.

That’s not to say that they all are this way, I remember the last time; two of the team of ten or so stayed behind and helped straighten up everything as the setting up of their own equipment had disrupted a lot of things here. The rest had just gone on their way as though nothing had ever happened. So, I don’t blame most of my team for not caring for the idea of multi-team projects.

So, to nobody’s surprise, there were quite a few groans of dismay when I had to break in the news during my weekly meeting that we had an upcoming project—a three-month one, even—that would require us to share our space with a team from another city. They needed our facilities and thus our help with something they were working on.

We might have been a smaller work team in a smaller city, we had some of the newer technology that others didn’t have quite yet. Don’t ask me how that works out, I’ve never asked, and I have no desire to ask, not really.

On the day that the other team first started coming in—some would be making the drive daily, others would be staying at nearby accommodations for the week and driving home on the weekends—there was already a lot of grumbling but it wasn’t coming from my side of things, no. A lot of the incoming workers were complaining about how a project like this starting just six weeks before the holidays was unfair, that they didn’t want to be that far from their families and, well, all in all, there was plenty of complaining happening and I can’t really stay I blamed any of them. It was a fairly long drive, but we also had planned on giving them the two weeks surrounding Christmas and the New Year off.

There was some compromising happening, too. In a way, I feel as though some might not have known who I was, or simply didn’t care. Especially as they continued complaining about the accommodations and the rest. The last two who came in were the team leaders and just before they came up to me, I heard them talking about how they didn’t care about the idea of being here, but if it made the others happy, they wouldn’t say another word about it. It was a strange thing to overhear, and they dropped the subject altogether when they spotted me nearby.

We talked a little, I showed them to the main area we had cleared for them and their team to work, I introduced everyone to the people they would be working with and that was mostly that.

I truly can understand that people aren’t comfortable when they’re essentially forced to work in an environment that’s not usually there. Especially when that work environment is about an hour away from where you live. It makes for long drives in the mornings and evenings if you’ve opted to go home every day, but this isn’t something we decided for them. They’re here, in our facilities, out of necessity. If they’d had the equipment we do, they could have stayed in their own lab.

On that same note, had the equipment they’d needed only required a one or two-time use, they could have sent someone with the samples and that single person could have made use of the equipment, but no. This is an ongoing thing where they need to use the equipment almost on a daily basis. Thankfully, our current project has no need for this one particular piece, so there’s no need to fight over whose turn it is. I don’t think I would have had the patience to deal with that sort of thing, had it happened.

Final Word Count: 791

I like who you are now. You don’t have to change for anyone but yourself.

Timeline/World: Until Tomorrow – Family Values
Current Date: September 27, 2023

Character: Alessio Speziale
Race: Human
Age: 48
Current residence: Warwick, New York
 

---

I am not one to take long walks out at night; not by myself. Certainly not out of the neighbourhood, either. That’s not to say this place isn’t safe, but I’ve come across strange souls before while coming out of work later than I would like; especially so on those very rare, now inexistent nights I spent at the office a decade or two ago. No one is allowed to do that anymore and it’s fine.

It’s been so long, but I still remember one of the first times I had to work overnight; Scott was barely a month or two old, Saoirse was adapting to being a mother just perfectly fine and there had been the need for me to overnight just that once. I remember telling her that I’d be back around five or so the following morning and that if there were any emergencies, she could call me.

There were no emergencies, of course; the night went well. I wasn’t the only one, there was a whole team of us there on that night but I’m the one who got the short stick and with another colleague, we got tasked with going to the nearest store to pick up snacks because the area in which the vending machines sat, in our building, was locked up at night. We only had access to the main hallway and our own door on that particular night.

So, we went.

I went into a little Asian place that was only just barely further away than my colleague but that was because a lot of people had complained about wanting fancy snacks. At that point, this felt as fancy as they could get and I was willing to try new things, so why not? It’s what happened next that made sure that this particular memory would remain oddly branded in my mind. Not because I got hurt, not because I was robbed; just because of this strange homeless person I crossed on my way out.

The memory is still fairly clear, even though I know I’m probably missing out on some crucial details at this point, it’s been so long. I do remember seeing my colleague waiting for me across the street, at the intersection. I had to cross that one to join them so we could continue on our way back to the building. But as I made my way over, I was stopped by this old, rusted shopping cart coming my way at a steady pace. It wasn’t rushed but it certainly wasn’t slow either.

The homeless person pushing the car could have done with a shower, but I know that it’s hardly ever easy for them—it’s just one of those things I know I tend to take for granted most of the time, being able to shower and have all of my daily meals with no fear of going hungry. So, it wasn’t their fault. I couldn’t tell if they were male or female but that might also be my memory and the fact that this was nearly three decades ago.

I remember their voice being raspy, as they stopped next to me; the memory remains with me as my brain telling me that this was what a lifetime smoker sounded like. They told me; a stranger—they were a stranger to me; I didn’t know them—that they liked me as I was now. That I didn’t have to change for anyone but myself.

A strange statement, to say the least, but one that felt fairly profound, nonetheless. I know that I didn’t quite think that at that moment; I was just a kid out on a snack run in the middle of the night. I wasn’t mentally prepared to deal with random strangers—let alone homeless ones—telling me that sort of thing. It really was just later on that very morning, as I was driving home, that I went over the situation all over again. I remember that much. I was in the driveway, just parked, the car off, for a while. I don’t know how long, but I know it was long enough that the car had had time to cool down.

I still think about that statement now and again, I’m not sure if it came from a sane mind or not, but it felt truthful; something that should be told to more people. We shouldn’t have to change for anyone else but ourselves. Sure, if we’re on a destructive path, change is necessary and you might not like who you are, but in the long run, the change that you bring to yourself shouldn’t be for others.

It’s a value I tried to teach to all of the kids; don’t try to change someone. Don’t let them try to change you, either.

Final Word Count: 799

I can see why you think I’m a vampire, but honestly I’m just allergic to garlic and have a totally normal hatred for the sun.

 
Timeline/World: Newfound Worlds – Erisia – Peculiar
Characters: Alessio Speziale
Race: Human
Age: 42
Current residence: Peculiar, Erisia
Final Word Count: 796 words
 

---

Managing to make our way into Peculiar was no easy feat. I’m sure that some of the others had it just as hard—Erland and Agathe come to mind—and while trying to find someone to replace me had been my first idea, managing that without telling my superiors the reason why I wanted to back out of the job that I’d had for close to two decades wasn’t going to work out.

So, we had to figure something out and trying to figure that out while juggling no less than three new additions to the team was difficult until I came home so exhausted one night that Gina’s concerns about the dark rings under my eyes made an idea take root and eventually, it was how we managed to get me here.

The presence of these three new additions to the team eventually facilitated my slipping away near unseen if you would. Especially the one young woman who had tried to request to work nights but the whole building was empty at night, and we weren’t about to let someone so new work on her own at night in a building that had such high-security standards. Not when we didn’t know what she could or couldn’t do and if she could follow what she was asked to do.

I’m fairly certain that it’s her presence, in the long run, that exhausted me mentally and even somewhat physically. She always came in covered head to toe, stated that she hated the sun, and it was why she’d been hoping to work at night and, whenever someone talked about anything that had to do with garlic, she’d just excuse herself as though the word on its own was so vile she couldn’t handle it. Supposedly, she was allergic to it—I’m not saying she wasn’t, but she went to extremes about it as though just talking about it would trigger some sort of allergic reaction in her.

It was one of the reasons why I struggled some with her, in the long run. There are a lot of chemicals being handled in that lab, a lot of unknown, and if you have an allergy to certain things, even though you’re wearing all the protection necessary, you might just never know what you could come into contact with. It’s one of those things, in a way.

But really, she’s the reason we made it here. A few weeks before the expected departure, I had Gina send in a notice saying I had come down with a heavy-hitting bug and I was bedridden. That I didn’t know when I’d be back on my feet, but I would keep them updated. Within a week’s time—and a few faked test results—I’d gotten so bad that it looked as though I wouldn’t be able to make it back into work in any timely manner. A few days after most had made it into Peculiar, I tragically passed away—or so we made it seem.

We had managed to get in touch with people who worked with situations a bit like ours—so to speak, they were good about helping people move unseen—and my so-called corpse and my very distraught wife were taken away. We were moved into a little room in a little morgue-like building and after a little while, so we could make sure that the coast was clear, covered head to toe, glasses and the rest, we were on the transport to the underground and on our way to Peculiar where most of our things already had been sent.

It’s been such a big change of pace, I don’t know that I can complain. It feels good to not be cooped up in a lab day in and day out. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my job and I do miss it, but this is good for the soul, and I do just want to be with my kids and Gina. If this is where our lives are going to be now, I’ll adapt. The fresh air is crisper, it almost tastes sweet. I know that might seem like a strange thing to mention but that is what it feels like.

The air under the dome was recycled and circulated over and over again, it was clean air, it was odourless but the air out here, it’s just different. It reminds me a little of the air that was in the drop dome. I know how different that air was, even if it was from a similar source. The trees, the plants, everything in the drop zone helped with the recycling of the air if you would, and it was different from the air in the main dome.

I think we’ll do fine out here.

Don’t you have better things to do than call me a snitch?

 
Timeline/World: Until Tomorrow – Hopeful Beginnings
Characters: Alessio Speziale
Race: Human
Age: 41
Current residence: Klahanie, Washington
Final Word Count: 822 words
 

---

Up until recently, I hadn’t really had any issues with any of my workers. Honestly, everything had been going well. As far as I’d been running this place, since I’d been promoted to that spot, there hadn’t been any issues. Sure, there will always be people that don’t get along with others but, at this point in time, years down the road, which had never been an issue for me.

At least, not in the sense that I’d had to do anything about it. The few times I’d heard about it, things had been resolved not very long after things had been mentioned to me. People had been mature enough to wrap their minds around the fact that this was a work place and that people did need to work together.

Last summer, we’d brought in a few interns as we were working on a fairly big project at the time. Most of the interns were university students who were partway through their studies at that point. It was a paid internship as I know better than to try and offer unpaid internships to anyone. I don’t even know why those exist.

We had four interns in all, each was paired with a worker that had plenty of experience under their belt, so I knew that the interns would have all the information they needed to do their jobs right. That and, well, that’s the point of the partnership program. That way, they’re not just left to their own devices and there are no chances of them mucking anything up. For the most part, they didn’t handle much of the equipment, they took more notes and transcribed them than anything else, though, if their pair saw them as being ready, then they were given a chance.

During one of the somewhat quieter afternoons after most of the project had been wrapped up, I did quick rounds, just to make sure that everyone had what they might have needed to be able to do their jobs properly. Usually, after big projects, I have to place orders on materials because so much of it got used up during the work.

As I rounded a corner, two of the interns—who looked like sisters to me but were not related in any way, shape or form—were quietly arguing in a quiet hallway. I stopped by them, mostly to make sure everything was all right. Both told me it was fine, that there had been an understanding. I let them be. There was no point in forcing them to tell me anything if they didn’t want to. So long as it didn’t get in the way of work.

It was as I was walking away, that I heard one hissing at the other about how clearly, they didn’t know how to deal with their time if they had nothing better to do than snitch on them. I could have turned around and walked back to them but what good would it have done me? I left them be, finished making my way to the room where we kept everything tucked away nice and neat when not in use and I took care of making up a quick inventory, adding in what a few others had told me we were short on.

Of the four, these two left right after the big project was done, the other two lasted until the end of the summer and one even asked if they could stick around if there was any need. There’s always need, we always have room for new people, and I told them as much, though their place would be much better secured once they were done with their studies. At least, that was unless they wanted a job at the front desk and somehow, I couldn’t imagine that being the case. Not that the front desk job is a bad job, but it’s not one that requires the knowledge that this particular person had.

All in all, as I look back now, I have to ask myself why these four, in particular, were sent to us. Not that they turned out to be bad apples, the two that hadn’t gotten along all that well hadn’t given us any issues, but their work had lacked a little something. Of the two that remained, the one who left at the end, without much of a word, seemed to only have stayed for the paycheque. Only our last one had truly shown interest in the job, at least on a potential long-term.

I’m aware that, for the most part, the internships were to give them an insight on what a potential job in the field they were studying in was like, but at times, I feel like there should have just been more to their behaviour than what we were offered. Maybe I just don’t know how to read kids nowadays. Not that they were kids, but still.

What sucks the most is that I was going to propose and chickened out at the last minute.

 
Timeline/World: Until Tomorrow – Family Values
Characters: Alessio Speziale
Race: Human
Age: 46
Current residence: Warwick, New York
Final Word Count: 864 words
 

---

Usually, every other month or so, I try to hold a small lunch of sorts for all of my employees. At least, the ones present on the day of the lunch. This is a date that is marked out in advance on all public calendars available around the office. Be it on the server calendar, as well as the small one on the front desk and one actually hanging in one of the main hallways. People are aware.

Before, it used to be something that only happened twice a year. A lunch during which the meal itself was paid for by the company, as a thank you for all of the hard work the employees were doing. There wasn’t much enthusiasm for the idea at first but, after a few lunches, positive comments began to come back in and, after a bit of open, anonymous polling, it became clear that the employees were appreciating the thought. So, we went from twice a year, to once a season, and now to every other month.

It’s a time during which I also eat with them. Usually, I have so much on my desk that I don’t really have time, but I’ve made time and I try not to be a stranger to my employees. I might not be their best friend, but I certainly have no desire to be seen as their tyrant either, or that unseen force that everyone should be worried about, no. I need my employees to know that if they have any issues, I’m open to hearing about them. I try to be as fair as I can to everyone, and I work very closely with my small human resources team.

New employees aren’t all that common. Unless I have a new project coming in and a new grant attached to that, my number of employees doesn’t fluctuate much. Sure, when I have expecting mothers needing to take that upcoming time off, that brings in someone new but otherwise, most of my employees have been around for a long time at this point. Sure, there was the issue from two years ago but that’s not all that common as an event and otherwise, we haven’t really had any issues with people not fitting their jobs.

For Christmas, there was a lunch. Some might want to claim that, of course, there was a lunch for Christmas, but I know that not all of my employees celebrate the same holidays, so the fact that there was a lunch around Christmas is more due to the fact that this is the general date of the lunch, far more than anything based on the holiday. Last year, after a bit of polling, people had claimed to want to do a gift exchange, but it hadn’t worked out so well, so we hadn’t repeated the experience this year, it was all right.

People seemed just as content to have their lunch, themed a bit around the holiday, but not much. There had been a few different selections of food, enough to cover a little bit of what everyone might want to eat.

During these lunches, I feel like people just sort of let go, so to speak, of the team they work with. Everyone has their own projects to work on and they don’t mingle much with others, even during breaks. During the lunches, those projects don’t matter, people will sit with others, and they’ll just talk. I feel like this is a good team-building exercise in a sense of the whole company being a team. It’s always nice to see.

That, though, also means that during these lunches, at times, you’ll get to hear stories that you very much so would not have heard anywhere else. A father retelling the story of his daughter’s first few steps to someone who hadn’t heard the story yet, despite the fact that this daughter was now five. A mother, now with grandchildren of her own, softly telling the somewhat more heartbreaking story of her own child as they had tried to propose to the person they believed to be the love of their lives but had chickened out at the last minute and that other person was now gone from their lives.

I admit that this one story is one I have no details for, I don’t know if the departure of the one that was meant to be proposed to, is due to moving, partnering up with someone else or something so much darker. Not that I want to give much thought to that potential option, that’s just such a sad one. At times like these, for stories like these, I just like to tell myself that perhaps it simply wasn’t time. That they would find the one their heart longs for soon.

It happened to me, why should it not happen for others? I have no regrets for any of the children I have had with Saoirse, I did love her when we married, things merely didn’t work out in the long run. She is now in the past and Gina… well, I have no words. My soul is as happy as it will ever be.

They sing to me. Do you not hear their songs?

 
Timeline/World: Until Tomorrow – Hopeful Beginnings
Characters: Alessio Speziale
Race: Human
Age: 40
Final Word Count: 692 words
 

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At times, I find myself worrying quite a bit about my workers. Not that they are crazy, not that they are criminals, not that there is anything bad about them but, every now and again, one will likely have been working so long that they started to act in a way that truly baffles me and I am left to stare at them in quiet wonder.

Such was the recent case of Ricardo, who would much prefer I call him Ricky but that is something I just cannot do. It isn’t that the work place doesn’t have a friendly atmosphere but I still am the man’s boss and I try to not be an overly friendly presence while at work. If I do cross them while off work, I no longer am their boss, I am someone they know, someone they might call a friend but I don’t know that I would call Ricardo a friend, not really.

For one thing, he is closer in age to my oldest son than my own age. While this does not change the fact that he is a good and hard worker, it does change the fact that I have very few friends in that age range, most are acquaintances and others are colleagues.

Ricardo had been working on a project, on and off, for some weeks now. Over the last four days, I’d noticed that he’d been at the lab when I would first step in and he still had not left when I did. I should have realized earlier on that he was sleeping here. I try to dissuade my employees from doing that much, it’s not exactly healthy for them.

When I checked in on him, just last Wednesday, he was focused, as was the norm when he was working on something, but when I approached him, he asked me if I could hear them sing. It made me pause and look at him. He hadn’t even lifted his head from the notes he was taking but I try to not silence my footfalls when I’m walking up to someone, it makes them aware I’m coming.

Now, for a lot of people, I’m sure their first assumption would be that the person they’re speaking to is on drugs but I know better. I know what sleep deprivation does to some of my workers and, as far as Ricardo is concerned; he tends to believe he hears things. I asked him about the song, and he didn’t really give me much detail. He only told me that they were singing to him and he was wide-eyed confused that I didn’t hear their songs, myself.

It’s at that point that I mostly decided that he was truly better off heading off so I made him leave. I called a cab for him to head home because I wasn’t going to watch him get in a vehicle of his own. Not that he had one, he was one of three who came in to work via public transport, and even then, I didn’t feel safe watching him get on a bus. There was no saying he wouldn’t just fall asleep right in his seat, miss his drop and not make it anywhere near his apartment.

By calling a taxi—a company I trusted quite well—I knew that he would get dropped off and the driver would even make sure Ricardo was safely inside the apartment building before he left. The cost was just a little more expensive—something I was covering on that particular morning—but it gave you an opportunity to know that you were in the best hands.

He did get home just fine on that morning and, the following afternoon, he was back to finish working on his project, looking sheepish as could be and quietly apologizing for his behaviour. I certainly didn’t mind. I was more worried about him getting proper sleep more than him finishing up and possibly messing up somewhere because he’d been too tired to focus.

In the long run, there had been no harm done and he finished his project within a few more days.

The only good this provides is an excuse not to go to work.

 
Timeline/World: Until Tomorrow – Family Values
Characters: Alessio Speziale
Race: Human
Age: 44
Final Word Count: 837 words
 

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It’s not always easy to be the big guy in a work environment. To be the boss, the one who has the final say on things. The one who hires and, sadly, fires, people as might be necessary. I hate firing people, it makes me look back to the hiring process and scrutinize everything I’d done. I go over every little thing I remember from that day in my mind, trying to see if I can, or not, spot the signs that I clearly missed about the person I need to fire.

Of course, not every single case turns out to be this drastic, I’ve had to let go of certain employees because their usefulness to the project currently happening had waned and it was time for them to move on, but there are other, bigger issues with certain employees that really make me ask myself how I didn’t see it at first. It hasn’t happened often in my years of working here, but it still has happened and I’m just confused every time it happens.

Now, I’m the type of boss who likes to give his employees chances to prove themselves and I even tend to give them a three-strike setup. This is something they are aware of when they get hired. It’s in the handbook; it’s part of what they’re told when they first come in; when they’re given the tour; when they’re first introduced to their work.

Most of the time, everything is perfect and right, but now and again, I’ll have to deal with a rotten apple that clearly knew how to hide its bad spots at first glance and discussion. I had to deal with one such apple just a few weeks back and I still have to shake my head at how blind I must have been when they went through the interview process.

Though I think that’s the thing, all I remember from the interviews were good things. She was polite, she was dressed cleanly, and she could answer the questions I asked of her about the potential job with ease. She did seem a little haughty but just barely. Something I wanted to attribute to the fact that she was young and from a family that was well off. She probably hadn’t really had to work up until this situation.

Her new role? She manned the front desk. Not that anyone can walk in, but there are calls, there are deliveries, there are documents to be looked over and fixed up, a desk job that was a necessity for me and while it was temporary—the woman she was replacing was a new mother and she’d be back with us in a year—she seemed to be fine with it.

The first strike came only a week after she first started, she came in late. There had been no traffic issues on that day, no weather troubles and when I asked her to tell me why she was late—an hour and a half late—she could give me no excuse. At least, none besides the fact that she’d completely missed hearing her alarm. She should have called when she’d first woken up, but she hadn’t.

The second came only a few days later when she decided on going to lunch half an hour earlier than she was supposed to and she didn’t warn anyone. She came back at the usual hour she should have, making it so she’d been gone for an hour and a half and I’d had to post someone else in her spot for half an hour because of calls and deliveries—it’s strange but we get quite a few deliveries in that half-hour window before lunch.

The third and final strike happened just last week, there was a fire raging in the building next to ours when we all got there that morning, so there was tape everywhere. We were asked to keep ourselves at our assembly spot, as despite the fact that our building was perfectly safe, by the looks of things, they didn’t want to chance the wind turning. I could understand them.

So we were all outside, huddling slightly under the awning of the gazebo we’ve designated as our assembly spot. I made sure all employees were outside and we waited. She was standing just a few steps away from me, her back to everyone and talking to her phone. She was going on about the fire and how, the only good thing this provided her, was an excuse not to go into work. Now, technically speaking, we were at work, we were outside due to an emergency but work rules still applied and I waited for her to end her call before I pulled her aside, out of the gazebo and we started talking.

This rotten apple had no excuse for her behaviour, but she hated the job and ‘daddy made me do it’ and, well… I’ve been looking for someone else to fill in until Ingrid comes back.

It’s not every day I wake up missing half my eyebrow. Where’d it even go?

 
Timeline/World: Newfound Worlds – Erisia – Rockbourne Dome
Characters: Alessio Speziale
Race: Human
Age: 39
Final Word Count: 657 words
 

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Most people seem to not even be aware of what goes on where I work. I honestly think that most people don’t even know this department exists and I like it just fine that way. Trying to explain to the common folks that we study things that they know nothing about is a difficult task and those who know of us, those who seek us for a specialization usually already have some knowledge and they crave more of that knowledge.

Recently, I found myself with a newcomer on my team and I’m still not completely sure what to make of him. From what I can gather, he’s rather open to the new laws, he says he married his best friend from childhood and that makes me smile, he said he tried to place his bid three times but her father kept on refusing it until the laws changed and she’s the one who asked him to marry her. They have a young two or so years old together and that makes me believe they might have been together before the laws changed but that doesn’t change what I think about him, so long as they’re happy.

The point is, I’m not sure what to make of him because he came into work just last week with… half of his eyebrow gone. I don’t mean like… all of his left eyebrow or all of his right one with the other one still intact, no. Just about half of his right eyebrow, from the inside to the outside, was missing. As he tells me, he’s still not completely sure, himself, where it went, but he’s thinking that it might have been his son playing with something he shouldn’t have. I can’t even begin to imagine what that might have been or that he’s holding something back from me but I haven’t asked.

He laughed about it when I asked him. He probably didn’t laugh when he got his first look in the mirror. His hair’s as dark as the night and his skin is pretty pale so the lack of that partial eyebrow really stands out on him, to the point where he said he was considering just shaving both of them off to match or asking his wife to show him how to ‘paint’ it on until it grew back.

I’m honestly a little worried about him. Eyebrows don’t just randomly fall out like that unless there’s likely an illness in the body and I’d rather he not be around the lab if he’s sick. It’s not so much a heartless thought on my end more as this laboratory is a sterile environment and all those within—myself included—have to go through special decontamination chambers when we step inside and when we leave. I wouldn’t want him to be inside if his immune system is on the fritz, let alone would I want him around some of what we study if he’s not feeling his best. I don’t want our few rarer samples to be contaminated by something that really shouldn’t be there and face masks can only help so much.

I’m still trying to figure out a way to ask him if he’d be willing to be put through a few basic tests—at the hospital, not here—so that we could rule out any potential illnesses because I really don’t think his child did that to him. For one thing, there is no irritation; no sign of shaved follicles; there’s nothing. The hairs of his eyebrow truly have simply fallen out and that just doesn’t happen here, in this world. Not for no good reason and I’d like to see him live a long, healthy life if I can help it.

So yes, I’ll have to figure out a way to get him looked over but I think it’s about time for the yearly flu shots, as is, so that might be a good excuse.

Never let anyone tell you snow was light—they obviously haven’t tried shovelling their driveway.

 
Timeline/World: Urbana LaCrosse University – Hopeful Beginnings
Characters: Alessio Speziale
Race: Human
Age: 39
Final Word Count: 654 words
 

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I’m not a very big fan of snow. That is, I don’t mind snow but only in small enough quantities that it still is pretty. So I’ll enjoy snow for the first few weeks but once there’s enough for the plough trucks to roam the streets and make mountains on the edges of the yards, it becomes too much. I know it’s a childish way to look at it and I haven’t had to plough my own driveway in years but I used to.

I used to shovel the driveway by hand, much the same way I was clearing the back pathways also by hand because someone whose name shall not be mentioned wanted access to the pathways in case there was a need to use them.

Let me tell you, there never was a need. Not for that particular person though the kids loved to roam the yard when there was snow. They’d make snow-men and snow-women from the snow I’d pushed off to the side and they were just so happy.

I’m not much a complainer, everyone will tell you that I’m too passive and too mellow to complain and I didn’t when I was made to shovel pointlessly. She didn’t want the driveway to be ploughed by the trucks; she kept on complaining that they would ruin the lawn and the flower-beds. How could they? The driveway would have been delineated and they’d have kept to the driveway and just, I think I earned my first few early grey hairs through these one-sided arguments of hers.

She’d claim that it would only take a few moments because snow was light, it was fluffy and pretty but it was in the way. She’d never had to clear the snow off her car before in her life. Her car slept in the garage and well, that’s that.

I know that all of this makes me sound as though I might not have loved my first wife but I did. In a way. I loved her when I met her, I loved her when I married her but she changed after that wedding and while she gave me beautiful kids and her death was a terrible thing, it’s better now. It’s easier to face the world without the constant reminder of her presence in mine and the kids’ lives.

Call me heartless, I’m just stating the truth as it stands.

I get the driveway ploughed in the winter now; it’s just so much easier. I take turns with the kids for the back pathways and we tend to only keep one cleared. It gets daily use in the winter and that’s what makes it worth it.

Sure, snow can be light and fluffy, when it first falls and it’s a dry sort of snow—ironic considering that snow is frozen water—and it’s easy to shovel that, it’s actually pretty fun. There’s no effort required to shovel that kind of snow but when snow gets mixed in with rain, it’s a whole other thing and I don’t even want to start arguing about the weight of that thing. That’s when I pull out the small snow-plough. It’s battery-powered so it’s not the strongest thing around but it does the job of clearing out the pathway at the back. It’s especially useful after bigger storms.

Life changes, it’s weird when I look back on it and think about how things are just so different from what they were back then. Some things change for the better, others, not so much but I’d like to think that I’ve been lucky enough that my life has only changed for the better.

I’m still not very fond of snow but I’m not against a walk in the park when there’s a fine layer on the ground. The freshness of the air and the crunch of the snow under our boots is soothing, honestly.