Posts Tagged ‘growing up’

Genres:

Cast of Wonders 105: Black Hole Sun


Black Hole Sun

by Kelli Owen and Alethea Kontis

User Profiles:

Erica “Sunshine” Lukac
Age: 15
princessunnie@gmail.com
Twitter: SunnieLu
Following: 22 Followers: 17

 

Seth Williams
Age: 17
notgoth555@gmail.com
Twitter: notgoth555
Following: 0 Followers: 1


From: Princessunnie@gmail.com
To: notgoth555@gmail.com
Subject: Messages to the Black Hole

Hey, Captain Blackheart!

Mom was shopping today — she’s having some weird cravings with this new baby. She and Ron haven’t decided on a name yet. I’m calling him Surprise. Sunshine and Surprise. won’t we be a pair? Anyway…she bought a ham at the store (do you know how hard it is to find a ham when it’s not Thanksgiving?) and I remembered that funny story you told me about the crazy homeless woman trying to shoplift that ham. I hadn’t thought about that in forever. And then I remembered something else you said that day at the park — about how you were always crap at emails but if I kept sending messages to the Black Hole that you’d read them. So….hi! And I hope you’re okay. And I made an A in English — can you believe it? And i painted my toenails blue. And I think Mom and I are going to see Memory of Angels at the Roxy on Friday night and you’re welcome to join us even though I know you won’t. But I had to ask anyway. You’re always my first Impossible Thing before breakfast.

Hugs, grass blades, and bubbles!
xox

Sunnie

(Continue Reading…)

Genres: , ,

Cast of Wonders 99: Little Wonders 3 – Scary Stories


Come With Me

by Beth Hull

Everything about her suggested impermanence.

Maybe that’s why we were drawn to her.

It wasn’t just the ethereal blond waves of her hair, or the goth-pale skin of her slender hands. It was her total, absolute ease at being the new student in our tightly-knit prep school.

She drifted into junior home room on a lotus-scented breeze.

Every guy sucked in a breath, and the girls—we don’t know what the girls were doing because we could see only her.

“Come with me,” she said, singling each of us out. For a day, for an hour, for a week we were her best friends, her lovers, her confidantes. But none of us knew anything about her—not where she was from, not the school she went to before ours, not even her name.

“Call me Beatrice,” she said.

“I’m Circe,” she said.

Morgan. Hermione. Rebecca. Medea. Anne. She was all; she was none.
(Continue Reading…)