The Lullaby of Youth

The elf moved swiftly through the shadows, his hair floating gently like seaweed. His sharp almond-shaped eyes carefully measured the surroundings, despite his celerity. He made no sound, left no trace. Not a single pebble trembled on the forest path, not a single thorn caught in his cape. Only the wind caressed his nacreous skin, and only the bark of the old oaks felt his touch. 

A night owl curiously turned its head backwards and gazed at the guest, a jackal respectfully bowed at him, a helpful firefly lit his path. That night, the crickets played a long-forgotten song on their thin violins. It was of many things and awakened many feelings: longing, loving, lamenting.  

He knew this song very well, it was his mother’s.

The lullaby of youth. 

At last, the elf slowed his pace and stopped at a round pond lit by a lunar beam. He sat on the shore stones, wrapped arms around his knees and stared at the water. His eyes contained such profound sadness — endless as the night sky and just as dark. 

The small eels hid in the depths with glum in their tiny hearts. The cattails swung their heads in sorrow, the frogs slipped under the sand. Seeing their reflection in the stranger’s dark irises, the depths of the water trembled with regret.

The elf’s piercing eyes shifted to the other side of the pond, the edges of his long thin ears twitched. A young fox was staring at him and he stared back. 

“Hello,” the fox said.

“Good evening,” the elf replied, his voice melodic but firm. 

“Will you hunt me?” The fox asked.

“I am not here to hunt.”

“Why did you come here?”

The elf lifted his head, his sunfire hair moved aside and revealed the face of a god. His beauty was awe-inspiring, outworldly ethereal. The crowns of the trees sighed. 

“I am here to listen to the song of the forest. It can be heard only on Midsummer’s Eve.”

“Why do you need to hear this song?” The fox asked.

“Why do you wish to know?” 

“I am a fox. The more I know, the better.”

“You need not concern yourself with me. Please, leave me be.”

They sat there in silence. The fox and the elf, at the two sides of the pond. 

The song floated on the summer breeze, and the bark of the trees grew sticky with sap, for it was the old beeches’ tears. The elf stood up and stepped waist-deep into the water. He slowly laid down on his back and began to float on the surface as a lonely lily. His long amber locks curled around his body like tentacles. The stranger closed his eyes and focused on the surrounding sounds. The crickets’ violins, now mixed with the whispers of the pond, increased his heartbeat. Memories of happier times flooded his mind and a silver tear ran down his marble cheek. 

“Why do you do this?” The fox interrupted the silence.

“You are still here?” The elf lifted his head and looked at the animal disapprovingly. “I asked you to leave me alone.”

“But I can’t, I need to know why you’re doing this. Otherwise, I’ll wonder until the end of my days.”

The elf sighed. He had neither the will to shoo the fox away nor the energy to argue with an animal. He continued floating on the pond’s surface weightless as a leaf.

“I am grieving, fox. Do you know of Grief?”

“All living beings know of Grief, elf. And I’m a fox and know of many more.”

“Has Grief ever visited you?”

It was the animal’s turn to stare reproachfully at the elf. 

“I’m a creature of the forest. Grief is our permanent guest as we all have to eat and we all have to be eaten.” The fox added painfully, “I lost my little ones this spring.”

Empathy sparkled in the elf’s eyes, he frowned. The stranger didn’t say anything but continued gazing at the endless sky while floating. The fox felt a heavy sorrow in her heart and whimpered quietly. 

They sat there in the summer’s eve listening to the crickets who sang about forgotten feelings, sweet sleeping memories, buried laughter. The lullaby of youth, the melody of childhood.

They both silently wept, remembering all that was gone, dreaming of all that would never be. And just as it suddenly began, the tune ceased and the forest was engulfed within heavy silence.

  The elf stood up, wrung out his golden hair, and lay on the shore. Not long after, the fox curved into a ball next to him.

“Were you grieving for your little ones?” The elf whispered.

“I thought of many things. My little ones, myself as a little one, my mother. I yearn for more children if I’ll live until next spring.”

The elf locked his eyes with the fox’s. The darkness of the forest witnessed their bond by loss and pain. Finally, the elf lifted his hand and placed his wide pale palm between the fox’s ears. He closed his eyes, whispered a chant, and a soft light flowed from his long fingers, spreading around the fox’s body. The animal looked uncertain. 

“What did you do to me?”

“You now have my blessing. You will bear children once again.” 

The fox hesitated at first, then placed her head on his lap, closing her eyes as his long fingers buried themselves in her thick orange fur. 

“Why did you need to hear this song?” 

There was a long pause. It felt as if the whole forest awaited for an answer, even the moon peeked from the clouds.

“It is the only way I can remember.”

“Instead of dwelling on the past, why not create a future?”

“There is no future for me,” the elf replied and the tree leaves trembled in despair.

“Why?”

He looked down and his celestial eyes met the fox’s gaze.

“I am the last elf.”

Illustration from “Unicorn: Warriors Eternal” by Genndy Tartakovski

A Goat Walked Into a Store

INT. OFF-LICENSE STORE - NIGHT
FRANCIS - a raccoon with horns dressed with the store's uniform is staying behind till seemingly bored as hell. He keeps looking at the clock on the till’s monitor and releases a desperate sigh.

The door opens with a ring and the goat GREGG enters. He has small feathery wings popping out from the back of his leather jacket. 

GREGG

Are you closed?

FRANCIS 

Does it seem closed?

GREGG

[chuckles]

I mean… I entered, didn't I?

FRANCIS 

[rolls eyes]

How can I help you, sir?

GREGG ignores the question, leans on the counter and looks around the store. He hums a melody and pops a gum in his mouth.

GREGG

You know, this reminds me of a joke I heard recently. A donkey, a nun and a baby walked into a bar…

FRANCIS 

[thinking]

What’s up with this guy… is he high? Do I have to kick him out?

GREGG (CONT’D)

… and then the nun says:-

FRANCIS 

[interrupts]

Do you wish to buy anything?

PUSH IN: GREGG smiles mysteriously while carefully looking around making sure that no one else is listening.

GREGG

I wish to go to the boiler room.

FRANCIS 

A-are you from maintenance?

GREGG

I’m from here. I live in the same building.

GREGG pulls out a badge.

ANGLE ON:

It’s a badge with nothing else besides the name “GREGG” on it.

FRANCIS 

[laughs nervously]

So you’re here to do a water check? That’s why you asked if we were closed, huh?

GREGG shrugs. 

ANGLE ON:

FRANCIS locks the store. 

INT. STAIRCASE SPIRALING DOWNWARDS

FRANCIS leads GREGG down a staircase. GREGG doesn’t bother using the stairs and just flies behind FRANCIS.

FRANCIS 

[thinking]

What am I doing with this weirdo here? Is he actually from maintenance? I should’ve called the manager…

INT. BOILER ROOM

FRANCIS and GREGG stand before the huge boiler. There are violent thumping sounds coming from within as if something is trying to escape. 

FRANCIS squints and while trying to figure out what is the source of the sound GREGG flies up to the center of the boiler, pulls out a mini chainsaw from his pocket and begins cutting the metal. After a few seconds water floods the basement.

FRANCIS 

[yelling annoyed while unsuccessfully trying to plug the holes in the boiler with both hands]

Aaaw, maaan! I’m so fired!

GREGG finishes cutting a huge hole in the boiler. He flies above the water unbothered. The goat takes a plastic bag out of his pocket and begins scooping out the water in the bag. He finally stops and raises the bag on the level of his eyes. He smiles and his horizontal pupils dilate.   

ANGLE ON:

There’s a GOLDEN PIRANHA with a small ribbon swimming in the plastic bag. A bubble with the words “TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH.” pops out of its mouth.

FRANCIS stares at this scene shocked and before saying anything a powerful blast followed by a fast current drags him, GREGG and GOLDEN PIRANHA out of the boiler room.

EXT. OFF-LICENSE STORE’S STREET

The shop windows shatter and the mighty current spits out FRANCIS, GREGG and GOLDEN PIRANHA (still held by GREGG)on the pavement.

GREGG happily hugs the plastic bag with the fish. FRANCIS coughs water. 

FRANCIS 

[coughing]

What the fuck, man?!

GREGG

I’m sorry! We were having a bath together, things got heated and I accidentally dropped her in the canal… 

GOLDEN PIRANHA

[popping out bubbles with text]

NOT THE FIRST TIME.

FRANCIS drains his soaked uniform and shakes his fur. He sighs, accepting the situation.

GREGG

[puts a hand on his shoulder]

I know you might get fired… let me make it up for you…

FRANCIS

Nah, man. Hated this job anyways. This is the most exciting thing that has happened to me for a long time.

GREGG

I can offer you a new job… wanna discuss it over dinner? 

FRANCIS

[shrugs]

My shift’s over and you live in this building anyways. Okay.

PULL BACK: The two figures walk to the entrance of the building. Only one street lamp works and the neighborhood seems empty and shady. 

FRANCIS [VO]

You didn’t finish the joke about the nun… 

GREGG [VO]

I forgot the punchline.

[END CREDITS]

In Peace

I'm trapped in a tunnel,

The tube galops in loops.

A noise swallows all words,

But your whispers remain.

The clock holds us down.

We hang from its arrows.

I’m yearning to drown 

In the vastness of time.

I’m caught in a fisheye

When I'm in your iris

And there is peacefulness 

In my small lucid face.

Let me stay:

In whispers, 

In seconds, 

In your eye, 

In quiet.

The Secret

“When I go back home, I have to tell her.” Mutters grandma Diddy while chewing the meat with her old teeth. Masha wipes the elder’s chin carefully and replies automatically:

“You are at your ho-“

“This place is different.” She interrupts Masha.“Back there was a fireplace, we sat around the… around this…” Her fingers pat the mahogany table looking for a clue.

“The table.” Sometimes Masha has to remind her of the simple words. Life has a cruel sense of humor – Diddy’s brain once translating Zweig brilliantly is now rotting due to the rapid development of Alzheimer. 

“Yes. We sat around it, we laughed and laughed…” The grandma’s eyes are wandering around the dish as if she is trying to reconstruct the past with the pieces of meat. She sees it all in this round mirror: meeting Tony in the ballroom, and he asks her for a dance; their daughter, Lily, playing in the living room; seeing her dancing in a bride’s dress; her granddaughter loving her: “Grandma Diddy, you are sweeter than a strawberry!”

“Strawberries for dessert!” Masha gently caresses her grandma’s hair and places the bowl on the table. Diddy loves eating sweets. She seems happy.   

The silence resonates within the walls. It spills through the girl’s ears, down her whole body filling her with a numb feeling of melancholy. Masha is afraid of death, of getting old. Diddy is the only living relative she has. The old house helps her to conquer the fears from her past.

Grandma Diddy eats her strawberries with satisfaction and thinks about her lovely granddaughter. She spreads her cracked lips into a smile. It would have been wonderful if this angel stayed in the house. But Lily went somewhere and took her kid with her. Before that she shared with her… a secret!

“When I go back home, I have to tell her.” Grandma Diddy interrupts the silence suddenly and locks her eyebrows pensively. Masha rolls her eyes. Perhaps it is the usual gibberish, but the girl’s intuition leads her asking:

“What do you have to tell whom?”

“Only the girl has to know. It is not my secret.”

“Who told you this secret?”

“Lily did. But… I have not seen her for a long time. Where is she?”

Pause. Masha inhales deeply and answers: “She passed away a little bit after my dad. What secret? What are you talking about?” Masha waits patiently staring into the grandma’s blurred gaze. Her heart beats fast, she must know her mother’s secret.

“She told me to tell the girl. To tell… her…that…” Grandma Diddy stops and narrows her eyes. She feels the blood pressure in her head. But she cannot entrust Lily’s last secret to an unknown person. She must go back home and tell Masha, her granddaughter, that Lily is not her true mother. That she is adopted. The old woman judgingly measures the girl in front of her and asks suspiciously:

“Who are you?”

A Walk in the Park

Trevor threw the ball again. Sharrow ran down the hill wagging his tail happily. His slender legs kept moving rapidly, stopped for a split second, tensed for a jump and landed back. 

“What a great catch!” Trevor spread his arms open welcoming Sharrow in an embrace. 

He was a 2-years-old axehandle hound - very well-behaved, very smart. Trevor loved his hound more than anything. 

Sharrow placed the ball gently in his owner’s palm. The man patted the hound’s pointy head, reached in his fanny pack and took out a small axe handle. The canine didn’t think twice before swallowing it eagerly.

Trevor was prepared to continue with the game when he spotted Xin heading towards them. As usual, she was out for her evening jog and her precious Kuai trotted along with her. 

Sharrow barked excitedly and ran to greet his old friend. Kuai bowed in a friendly posture. Xin’s face lit up from joy as soon as she spotted him. She stopped, kneeled and started petting Sharrow lovingly. His tail was wagging so fast it looked like a helicopter propeller. 

“Hi, Xin! Hi, Kuai!” Trevor approached them slowly, reminding himself not to seem too excited in front of Kuai. However, the big black fluffy huodou didn’t think twice and jumped over Trevor knocking him to the ground. Kuai’s front paws remained on the man’s chest pinning him down so he couldn't escape her kisses. 

“Kuai!” Xin stood up and headed eagerly to her canine.

“Alright, alright, girl!” Trevor put his hands in front of Kuai trying to escape her wet tongue. 

Xin got to them and moved Kuai away, grabbing her by her collar. 

“Bad, houdou! Look at the mess you made!” Kuai looked guilty and her ears backed away from the head. 

“No worries, really” Trevor stood up and got wet wipes from his pocket. His face was covered in charcoal. Houdous ate coals and because of that their tongues were always black. Moreover, they could breathe fire with each bark so the man was happy enough with the dirt on his face. 

“We’re really trying to improve our training lessons, but she still can’t control herself if she’s too excited…” Xin sighed observing both of the dogs chasing each other. She turned her eyes to Trevor. “You still have some dirt on your nose. I’m so sorry”

“It’s fine!” He laughed and wiped his nose. “Besides, she doesn’t bark anymore which is amazing! I’m sure she’ll be prepared to come to work with you soon enough.”

“Oh, actually, I didn’t tell you but we got our first case!” Xin smiled proudly. “That’s why I’m so eager to finish our training.”

“Really? Xin, that’s amazing!” Trevor looked at the woman admiringly, and one could read sincere happiness in his eyes. “What’s the case? If it’s not classified, of course.”

“Bunch of untrained kids got their hands on an artefact.” Xin shrugged. “Nothing so special. But it’s the best opportunity to show them what we got.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be fine. But what about the kids? Will they be extermina—”

“Orders are orders, Trevor. And once we get them, we fulfil them.”

Both of them kept silent for a while. The carelessness in the canine’s play was hypnotising. Trevor couldn’t believe that Kuai can kill someone. That the very same ball of fur he was meeting at the park for over a year now is capable of burning someone to a crisp, let alone, on command. He knew for sure that Sharrow isn’t. 

“Someone has to keep the order, Trev.” Xin broke the silence. “Look at what happened a few months ago. That unregistered magi user going berserk on the streets, murdering a bunch of random people. A baby died… We’re doing what we can and what our higher ups think it’s right for this city…”

Trevor nodded and his eyes accidentally stopped at the symbols carved in Xin’s shoulders. He didn’t have any idea what they meant. Sometimes he felt that although he knew her for years, she remained a stranger. Magi would always be foreign to normal people.

The Last Day of Summer

The first beams of the sun gently caressed the red roofs of the cottages. The fading moon embraced the stars in a motherly manner and prepared itself to sleep until the beginning of the night. The lack of clouds promised to the villagers that this might have been the last day of summer. Despite that, a cool morning dew irrigated the yellow grass which was almost completely dry after yesterday’s dreadful heat. An orchestra of crickets has already begun singing which foreshadowed hard work and sunstrokes on the field. The villagers already knew that the day might be horribly exhausting and this explained why the square was already filled with people. The sun spread its dazzling smile at the view of the human hive. 

Women gossiped to each other while pouring water from the stone fountain and their whispers mingled with the laugh of children running around carelessly. The maidens braided their long hair and carefully adjusted the edges of their dresses. Each garb was unique to the person wearing it and the design showed a masterful craftsmanship. However, it seemed that children did not care about their clothes as much - they laughed carelessly, fought each other in the mud and some were throwing wild plums at each other. Women gossiped while pouring water from the stone fountain and their whispers mingled with the crowing of roosters. Men’s morning routine began with drinking a cup of strong rakija while discussing important matters about the village’s fate, the travelers’ whereabouts and the Sultan’s new orders. Once this was done, they puffed out their cheeks while chewing hemp and played a game with lamb bones. It seemed as if today no one wanted to work hard. The village had sunk into the blissful enchantment of a summer morning. Perhaps this is why nobody noticed that the cicadas weren’t singing anymore. Some heard the howling of the dogs echoing from the outskirts of the village, but thought that the reason might be a fox. Others glimpsed a family of rats running across the square in panic, but assumed it was the fault of a naughty kid. The only observer who could see the source of this sudden turmoil was the mute sun. 

She was slowly approaching the main road of the village while limping. A long time ago God threw her out from Heaven and her neck snapped with the fall. Now she couldn’t move her head and her bony fingers with purulent wounds were spread on each side of her body, forcing the air to tremble. Her hunchback was covered with a thorn black cloak, her face was hidden by a headscarf and only a grotesque nose, covered with bubonic boils, was protruding from it. The long dark cloak revealed only her bare feet with nails sharp as knives. The ground was cracking after each of her steps and thick dust burst out of every crack up to the clear sky. Her aura drained the colors of life and every plant touching her immediately wilted and died. A confused fly struck her hand and its carcass froze on the dry palm. The figure brought the fly in front of her face, sighed and hid it in the depths of her cloak. She was deaf and spread silence everywhere around her. The figure was already near the village’s square. The only thing she craved was looking at a living creature. She wanted to see the reflection of life in others’ eyes, because the two dark pits in her skull could see only death. Then she could keep the memory of these reflections underneath her cloak forever. 

The Plague was coming.