Raul’s father was reported lost at sea soon after his son was born. When he turned thirteen, Raul set out to sea himself, determined to bring his father home.

Raul finally returned home empty-handed and told his mother the bad news. Only then did his mother admit that his father was not Captain Joseph Blighy, the famous Sea Adventurer, but Old Joe, the homeless crack addict who roamed the neighborhood begging for handouts.

Morgan Durante always dreaded reading the morning paper. The headlines were of the normally sensationalist variety, with one important caveat: this edition of the news only covered Morgan and his life.

Morgan would have liked to stop subscribing, but it was written by his ten-year-old daughter and his wife insisted they encourage her talent. Besides, the reporting was always accurate.

So Naomi found this old lamp in the attic. When she was cleaning it off, a genie appeared and granted her one wish. Before anyone could stop her, she wishes for her life to become just like in a musical.

I, on the other hand, never get to say (or sing) anything. I’m just the guy in the back trying to keep time during all the dance numbers.

We hit a fork in the road after about ten miles. She looked at me with a half-crescent smile but I pretended I didn’t notice. I just kept lookin’ forward, as if I knew somethin’ important was coming my way. But it wasn’t; I knew that. I knew we’d probably make a wrong turn and be walkin’ here for ten more miles. She ate the raspberries and licked her fingers and giggled. We’d been walking all day and all she could think about were her damn berries. Her hair smelled nice. Your hair smells nice, I told her. She knew.

From Guest Contributor Cara E. Schulte

At nine years old, every child in the land of Baywater was befriended by a talking animal that served as a guardian. On the eve of their birthdays, the children would wait with eager anticipation to meet their new companions, always hoping they would get one of the cooler animals, like a tiger or dinosaur.

At least it would scare away all the girls in his class.

Viking raiders would return from their numerous expeditions and invasions as conquering heroes and hope to receive a heroes’ welcome. Instead, they were generally greeted with indifference bordering on disdain.

The strongest Viking warriors in fact stayed home and forced their weaker counterparts to pay them tribute in food and gold.

Gerald stared at the twenty-foot tower and wondered what it could be.

When examined up close, it obviously wasn’t any kind of rock. The old man who was charging one dollar for admission explained. “This here is one of the last remaining stings from when the giant bees invaded. It’s lucky the Earth doesn’t have an allergy or we’d all be dead.”

He was the tiny king of the world’s smallest microdictatorship.

When they came to haul him off to the mental ward, they found that he’d appointed a rabid rottweiler as Minister of Defense.

People constantly ask me what the future will be like. They know my arrival in this time was accidental but they fear I’m actually fleeing some kind of apocalyptic future.

Yet they always accuse me of lying when I say that pretty much everything is the same, except we all travel by carrier pigeon.