Alison Weirdly

Suddenly, the temperature dropped. The box that Marco was carrying was labeled “fragile,” and until he took that final step up onto the porch, his foremost fear had been tripping and dropping that box. But then he saw her standing at the doorway of his new house.

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The Monstrous and Curious

Some people claim they dreamt of the creature before its vast shadow soared overhead and landed on the top of a young redwood.

Most of us have dreamt of it at this point. A gargantuan pterosaur with gold-and-blue feathers like a modern macaw.

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Encounter With Ship 47

“It’s my favorite chief mechanic,” the captain said. I looked to my left and saw her smiling as she glided toward me.

“I bet you say that to all the chief mechanics,” I said, feeling the tablet tucked under my hand slide a little as sweat suddenly appeared on my fingertips.

“I do, but I only mean it when I say it to you.”

I chuckled. We joined up and started down the main concourse, both on the way to our duties as the first shift of the day started.

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The Desk of Professor West

I’d seen pictures of his desk, several of them. They were slightly different, but there was one thing in common with every single one. It was cluttered. Piles of files, pencils lying in constant danger of rolling off the edge, a half-empty cup of coffee or tea or maybe flat soda, a wadded up piece of paper, a stack of books, no two of them aligned at the edges. It seemed like the desk of someone who would start working on every idea that popped into his head, so he wouldn’t forgot. A person who didn’t use sticky notes or devices to help him remember. But in the most recent picture I saw of Professor West’s desk, all of that was gone. There was just one thing left on the desk, a letter addressed to someone he’d never met before in his life, and who’d never met him.

A letter addressed to me.

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The Surgeon’s Secretary

“Here, you see?” the surgeon said, as he pointed with his scalpel. “At the nexus of the heart and the brain? Between the eyes and the throat, right at the back of the mouth, where the voice is on the verge of emerging?”

The secretary peered past the gleaming scalpel and tilted her head. There was nothing to see at the moment, other than the expected anatomy inside the mouth. The corpse that lay on the dissection table had been long vacated. But the surgeon claimed that he had cut through at just the right time, the fleeting moment right after certain death.

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Transdimensional Top Hat

“Maybe this is my destiny,” Ro said, as she swept the top hat off the table and perched it on her head.

She spun around to show her cousin who laughed, gave her a thumbs up, and continued browsing the crates full of old magazines.

The two were at an estate sale that had intrigued Ro because it was for the former belongings of a magician.

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The Shadow of Victoria Lockhart

Victoria Lockhart, like many of those in both the cast and crew of her feature film debut, had heard about their director. His genius. And his…moods. That’s what they were called back then. Moods. And only directors were allowed to have. She’d been so excited on her first day. Even after she saw him throw a chair at one of the writers. Even after she’d seen him take a swing at the cinematographer. Even after she’d heard him say things to his assistant in front of everyone that made the woman crumple at his feet in tears. Victoria told herself that she would never trigger his ire. She would make him adore her, respect her, and treat her as gently as he treated that favorite suede jacket of his.

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