Take Your Pick

This was supposed to be a weekend of fun for the Cohen family. Little Rafael was supposed to be at home with his chill babysitter while his parents went on a romantic getaway to a special hotel for adults only. He was going to order takeout, and stay up all night watching the R rated films he wasn't allowed to. That is, until the babysitter got some severe food poisoning, and there wasn't anyone who could care for the young boy at the last minute. It was also too late to cancel the trip to get a refund. So here he was, bored out of his wits while his parents stood at the front desk doing everything they could to convince the hotel to let him stay.

After what felt like forever, they finally convinced the employee manning the front desk to take it up to the manager, who took one look at Rafael playing on his Switch Lite, and smirked. "Don't worry," he told his parents. "You're not the first couple to end up in this predicament here. We have a special procedure for moments like this." 

He then nodded to the concierge, who nodded back and left her post. The woman held a hand out to Rafael with a warm smile. "Come on," she said. "I'll take you to a super special room while your parents work out all the boring stuff."

Rafael followed her as she led them through an unmarked door. As they left, he heard the manager say, "how would you like an upgrade for your troubles? A cute couple like you should love our hon-" before the door closed on him.

A few twisty corridors later, and Rafael found himself inside a sterile room with dark walls, and modern furniture. Off to the side, he could see a small bathroom that was just as bland. It looked more like a doctor's office than a playroom. Why they thought this was a good place to wait was beyond him. At least the lobby had that cool water fountain and a few plants to brighten up the room.

The woman hadn't followed him inside, so he made himself uncomfortable on one of the dull chairs until she burst through the door carrying a cumbersome cardboard box. She stopped in the center and carefully tipped its contents out onto the floor. Rafael's eyes widened, it was a bunch of toys! A very weird selection of toys. Cuddly toys, action figures, board games, trading cards, even a few game consoles. He could feel his hands twitching as he wanted to rummage through himself, but the concierge lady stopped him.

"Ah-ah-ah," she chided. "You're only allowed to choose one toy. Then we'll begin the process."

Only one toy!? Rafael frowned. That was hardly fair when there were dozens to choose from. And he had to be the only kid at the resort, it wasn't like he had to share! Still, there was a sense that this was an important decision. He quickly discarded the girls toys like the plushies and the dolls from the equation, not wanting to even touch them. Then he reluctantly discarded the video game consoles, since there was no TV to connect them to. In the end, from the meager selection left, he reached out and grabbed a colorful 9x9 square cube. 

The woman nodded her head in approval. "Ah, the Rubik's Cube. An interesting choice. The most popular Christmas gift in 1980, if you didn't know. Not too old, but still a little retro." She ruffled his hair with a smile, and pointed back to the chairs. "Now go and sit down while the grown ups work out this little mess you've managed to put us in."

What About The Ritual

 PART ONE

The past week has been one of the strangest in my life, and yet also one of the best experiences I've had in a long time. Now, as the week was drawing to a close, there was a sense of melancholy, the kind you felt as your vacation was drawing to a close. I wasn't quite ready to go back to the way things were, yet I'd certainly had my fill. All I had to do now was pack my suitcase. Or rather, find Greg and get him to do it. Technically, it was his, after all.

I hadn't heard much from him this morning. It was like he was avoiding me, drawing out the inevitable. Which was ridiculous, he was the one who had gotten the worst end of the stick this week! And yet, I couldn't find him anywhere in the house.

Eventually, I thought to check the back yard, and there he was, resting on the porch. He was topless, stood in the last beams of the available sun, and quietly puffing on a cigar, which made me frown. "Hey," I called out as I approached. "What are you doing out here for?"

"Soaking in the sun, smoking a cigar." He replied nonchalantly.

"I can see that," I grumbled. "I just wish you would've asked first. Those cigars were a gift, I don't like wasting them on such frivolities."

He merely grunted, and blew a puff of smoke out into the breeze. "Believe me, I already know." He tapped his bald noggin with a grin. "I figured it was a special occassion for me. The last chance I'd have to smoke one, given how you're supposed to -" He paused for a second. "How I'm supposed to head home today."

"Yeah, yeah. Just wrap it up quick. We still have to do the ritual before your mom gets here, or you'll be stuck being Grandpa Greg until Thanksgiving, at least."

"MbeIwntbgrmpagreg," he grumbled under his breath. Something nonsensical, before he raised his voice. "Maybe you should pack if you really wanna get rid of me that badly."

"Excuse me?"

"Pack my bags while I finish this cigar. Or else it'll go to waste. Then we can do the whole switcharoo."

I tried to think of a comeback, but I could only grumble. As much as I hate him smoking my vintage cigars, I also don't want it to be wasted halfway in. And it wasn't as if Greg had packed much, I could be done in half an hour, tops. Besides, I was done arguing about these totems once again. I gave him a final death glare, before turning back to the house with a huff.

A Ritual

It started as a hypothetical. Not even that. I wasn't even the one who introduced the idea. And now our lives have been flipped, traded, intertwined. But I'm getting ahead of myself... Many decades back, whilst backpacking through Europe, I picked up a pair of of totems from an antique shop. I didn't understand the significance of them back then, I just thought they looked like unusual knick-knacks. The person who sold them to me surely didn't know either, I'm sure they can't have. Or they wouldn't have sold them to me for so cheap...

Those totems still sit on my bookshelf alongside all the other various tchotchkes I've acquired over the years. I'd never even thought to look into their origins. Why would I? They were mass-produced tat for all I knew. It wasn't until my grandson, Greg, took a sudden interest in them. I was looking after him for the week while his mother went on one of her business trips. And as soon as he arrived, he made a bee-line for my bookshelf, and plucked them right off the top. He then went off on some tirade about a documentary he'd seen on the internet about old-world rituals. Apparently, these totems were used as part of a ritual that would allow two people to air grievances by putting themselves in the other's position, and working through their issues together. Or that's how it sounded to me.

"Nuh-uh," Greg sighed with a shake of his head. "The guy on YouTube literally said they swapped minds."

"Exactly. They swapped their thoughts and troubles to better understand each other's position, and come to a mutual agreement." 

"You're not getting it, Gramps." Greg took the totems, and swapped them around in his hands. "They swapped for real life, body and mind. They each became the other!"

"Don't be ridiculous," I spat, upset by the very notion. "It's clearly metaphorical."

Suddenly, a mischievous smile crept across Greg's face. "If it's so metaphorical, why don't we give it a try?"

Hijacked

Charlie's fingers danced across the aged leather pouch, eager to empty it of its goods. He grinned as metal clattered against the surface of his desk, admiring the emerald studded ring that fell from within. He'd had his eye on it for a while. It was calling out to him, begging him to buy it. He checked that antique store almost daily, hoping someone else wouldn't snatch it up before he had the chance. Then finally, he'd saved enough money, and here it was, in his possession. He lifted it up in his hands, admiring the simple design.

"Finally! It's been years!"

He gasped, and spun around. "Hello?" Charlie called out to his empty house. "Dad? Are you home?"

"I ain't your dad, kid!"

There it was again! A deep voice that was so clear in his head, it was as if they were in the room with him. Yet there was nobody about. "Who are you?" He called out. "Where are you!?"

"Cool it, kid. I'm right here in your hands."

He looked at the ring in his palm. "Wait... My ring can talk?"

"Not talk, per say," the voice explained. "More like mental communication via physical contact. I'm in your mind, kid."

"Oh... Well I'd prefer it if you weren't, Mystery Voice."

As Charlie proceeded to place the ring back on the table, the voice called out. "Woah, woah, woah!" It screeched, bringing him to a sudden halt. "Ain't you curious as to why I'm communicating with you?"

He was. But Charlie also knew that nothing good could ever come from cursed jewellery. Yet he couldn't unclench his fist. He sighed. "Okay, I'll bite."

Not Always Greener

I pulled up outside my old house and sighed. I can't believe it's really been a month. I thought it was going to be a breeze. Hell, I even thought I'd conveniently misplace the brooch, and never go back. But modern teen life definitely wasn't how I imagined it would be. I'm almost glad to be going back to living my old life, even if it wasn't exciting. It was a mistake to consider playing out my fantasy. At least I know Brent is going to be pleased to get back to his own life too...

I knocked on the front door, and was a little dismayed when Frank opened the door. It was strange to see him after a full month. It was crazy how much I missed his beautiful face, his warm touch... "Oh, Gerald," he said with a smile. "What a surprise! I wish you'd called ahead, I was just about to head out."

I was surprised. Didn't Brent let him know I was coming? We did mark today's date down in our phones, just in case we forgot. I smiled and nodded, saying, "Don't worry, I just came by to see my uncle. We have things to discuss."

"He's outside in his usual spot," Frank replied, patting me on the shoulder as he left. I shuddered at his touch, I couldn't wait for things to get back to normal. He turned on his heel, then added, "If you stick around for dinner, I'm making my famous meatloaf."

I waved him goodbye, knowing I would definitely be around for dinner. His meatloaf really was the best. I couldn't wait to sit at the dinner table with him, gossiping about the neighbors, and complaining about work. It's the little things you miss... 

Ring of Desire

Tension was brewing between Martin and his Uncle Jim. He was staying with him while the rest of his family went upstate to support his brother's debate team in the regionals. Martin had hoped he'd be alone for the week, but staying with his uncle was a nice alternative. They were kindred spirits, both enjoying the same music, the same movies, and the same baseball team. The only problem was that Martin's easygoing nature clashed with Jim's sternness. So when he switched off the TV, claiming the upcoming game would be on too late, Martin didn't take it well. As he stomped upstairs to his room. Jim called out, "Where are you going, little man?"

Martin huffed, "I'm gonna play Minecraft."

"At this hour?" Jim asked. "If you can't sleep, isn't there any homework you could do? Or maybe you could clean your room a little. Dirty clothes belong in the laundry, after all."

Martin ignored him and slammed his door. He didn't think he could last another day with his constant rules. So he reached into his bedside table, and pulled out a tacky looking ring, the kind you might get for 500 tickets as an arcade prize. Except, Martin had bought the ring from a thrift store for a dollar. It was no ordinary ring, it had strange powers. It could grant any desire of the person using it. From making the bed to changing the universe, there were no limits to what the ring could achieve. The powers would last until the day he discovered his ultimate desire. At that moment, the ring would vanish, sensing he would no longer have the need for it. It could take hours, or it could take years. He knew this, of course, because the ring told him when he first put it on.

Pep Talk

 

Okay... You're okay... So you're suddenly big and hairy and old... But that's fine! You'll find a way to...to not be big a-and hairy and...old... Just be cool, you're just a normal guy who's washing his hands, and you're gonna... AH!

I leap back from the sink and clutch my chest, before whipping my hand away as it brushes against my chest hair... Ugh, it still sounds weird to say it. My chest hair. I have chest hair. And stomach hair. And back hair, ew... I grip the edge of the sink to stop my legs from collapsing again, and exhale a deep sigh. I need to ground myself, and recall what happened...

Vignettes: Black Friday

For the first time ever, the Magic Curiosities Emporium is having its very own Black Friday sale, and it's all thanks to me. It's been a few years since Master Mitawi offered me the opportunity to work under him as his apprentice. Well, more like forced me after aging me thirty-something years and refusing to turn me back into a teenager, but that's water under the bridge! I've grown to enjoy my line of work, and I've improved in my own magical skills. In fact, it was me who suggested we join the other shops in Black Friday. Mitawi was unconvinced, until I explained how we could deliver magic while reducing waste. We have so much junk in storage, stuff we couldn't even give away because it doesn't work right, or needs to be disposed of properly, or could be "dangerous" if you sold it and how could you even suggest giving a child one of... Ahem... So, we're having a little clearance sale while it's the right time for it.

The bulk of our clearance comes from expired potions. Yup, even potions have use-by dates and when they're no longer viable for consumption, we have a very delicate and complicated process of neutralising the effects before dumping them. Because the potions are still magic, and will still do what's intended. It's just that they come bundled with unwanted side effects. Or maybe it's a welcome side effect, It depends on who you ask. We do also have the occasional non-potion item on sale as well. Products we can't sell due to them being packaged wrong, or they don't work quite as intended. Normally they'd be locked away until their magical properties wear off. Now we're selling them at highly discounted prices! We've made quite a few sales today, which made my master happy, and of course, the ensuing chaos we created was a fun bonus.

Cursed Necklace

Learn A Lesson

Crystal Changes

Lose The Beard

The Stocking

Vacation Favor

Who Had It Tougher

Adventures in Babysitting

Christina knocked on the door to her next door neighbour's house. She had agreed to babysit their son for the day to allow them to attend a conference downtown at the last minute. She had made previous arrangements that she wasn't happy to cancel but it seemed urgent and they offered to pay her a decent amount. As she was starting college that year, any source of income was desirable to her. Tony answered the door and greeted her enthusiastically. He was a cute 3 year old who was usually easy to handle, but could quickly get troublesome at the worst of times.

Ignored 4

Ignored 3

Ignored 2

Ignored

Ignored 3

Ignored

Ignored 2

Just Like The Movies

Emmett grumbled as he slowly trudged through the rain soaked streets. He'd missed the last bus home for the second time that week after his biology teacher caught him passing notes. It wasn't even that big a deal, yet he was still forced to spend an hour after school. He spent the time fuming about his teacher and wishing he could just be finished with school. Alas, he still had several years to go. To make matters worse, he hadn't even bought an umbrella or jacket with him as the day had started out so bright and warm. Now he was soaked to the bone and only halfway home. Emmett crossed the road and ducked into the woods without a second thought. Its secluded pathway winded through an overgrown nature reserve that ended somewhere near to his house. It was a longer route than walking the streets, but it was far drier and rather scenic. His parents often warned him that it was dangerous to walk through alone but he'd done so many times before without trouble. He thought he was old enough to be wary of his surroundings by now.

While Emmett listened to music with headphones in, he wasn't as aware as he believed himself to be. About 5 minutes into his walk, he caught his foot under an exposed tree root and fell roughly to the ground. He dug into his pockets to make sure his phone hadn't cracked, then attended to his aching body. Although he felt sore from the impact, nothing felt broken to his relief. Just as he was about to pull himself up, Emmett caught a glimpse of something sticking out from underneath the root. It had to be something important if it was buried in the woods, it wouldn't even be noticeable unless you were on the ground like Emmett was. After a bit of struggle, he finally managed to pull out a thick, wooden carving of a person. Its features were crudely carved into a menacing glare, while its faded, painted body looked like it was boldly coloured in the past. In its clawed hands, it held what looked like a ball with faint markings around the outside.