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Cranberry Winters Issue 03
...---***Cranberry Winters***---...
(hidden faces)
Issue 3, April 1996
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TABLE of CONTENTS
- _A bland note from the editor
- _Wodniw eht Tuo_, a vignette
- _Teprac eht no Doolb S'ereht, Christopher Stolle
- _Ylf Ot_, a short story
- _Dog_, a poem
- _Shpargotohp_, a short story
_From the nebulus replacing the mind of the editor_
6 April, 1996
Once again I am only now getting to work on the third edition of
the magazine, two days before it is to be distributed. This reminds me
of my middle school newspaper days, when I waited to the last moment and
wrote five or six articles. I work well under pressure. Actually, it
could be said that I don't work at all unless under pressure.
I am looking for all sorts of "quality" submissions. I trust
that contributors will make the distinction between yesterday's garbage
and a masterpiece, or something resembling. As editor of one of only
two hundred thousand magazines on the Internet, I might be pushing it to
ask even for something resembling. I've lost track of all of the "Star
Trek" or "Dungeons and Dragons" stories sent to me.
I hope you enjoy this issue of Cranberry Winters (hidden faces).
If you did - or even if you hated it - drop me a note. I'm not always
this dry...
Deborah
_Out the Window_
Deborah Bryan
19 June, 1994
I thought that when she said that all things would change given
time, she was talking about her cat. And how that fluffball turns into a
bush come winter. But no, she was talking about us.
I wonder what's taking her so long in the bathroom.
_There's Blood on the Carpet_
Christopher Stolle
shadows have spoken
as pain is gone
but in the rubble
there resides a memory
and a dream on ball and chain
while in each crevice
of a deed or sacrifice
there's a river of fear
and the possibility of hate
but now is the time
for tears,
collapsed heroes,
and destruction
to stop
_To Fly_
Deborah Bryan
May 7, 1994
'Oh, come on, Joey. Who's it going to hurt if you were to come with
me?' Joey peered over the edge of the cliff and couldn't help but think
that his going over the edge of a cliff would hurt quite a few people.
His parents wouldn't be too pleased, but that wouldn't bother him too
much. Hello, it couldn't bother him too much. Not if he were to try
flying with that insane friend of his, Joey. He was certain that it
would bother Heather, the girl who had been writing him love letters for
the past three months. He couldn't imagine that she would really get a
kick out of seeing his body melded with the land down there, flatter
than a pancake.
Man, it was a LONG way down.
But none of this really was much of a hindrance to him. He could ljust
imagine how it would feel those last few seconds... fall, fall, fall, and
a final splat. This was a thought that was not all that appealing to
him, to say the least.
'You say that I'm not going to fall. But I don't believe you. I
remember when you said that Bob wouldn't mind me taking his lunch... and
he beat me up really bad. You think I'm gonna believe you when you tell
me that I can just fly down this cliff? Couldn't you try for a lower
height at first, like from your toilet or something?'
Joey looked at Jonathan and shook his head. 'You don't believe me, then?'
'Only kids believe in the tooth fairy.'
'We _are_ kids, Johnny.'
'Nah-ah. I'm not a kid. But you can be a kid if you want.'
'You're nine, Johnny. You've gotta believe in something.'
'I do. I believe deep down inside that if I listen to you and jump over
that cliff, I'm gonna end up splattered all over the ground hundreds of
feet below.' With this, Joey sighed, took a step closer to the edge.
Jonathan began to panic. Sure, Joey had done his share of insane things,
but talking about flying over a cliff was alot different than actually
trying it out. That wasn't just a little bit crazy, that was truly
insane. Joey could be seriously hurt.
'You're not really gonna do it are you Joey? Please?'
'Yeah I am. But that was why I aksed you along. I thought you might
want to. But I don't want you to now. If you tried- but you wouldn't-
it wouldn't work. You're too against it.' Jonathan was bewildered as to
what Joey meant.
With these last words of Joey's, Joey jumped over the edge. This wasn't
suicidal, for Jonathan knew exactly what he was doing. And while
Jonathan screamed, he looked over the edge, to see his friend's rapidly
falling body...
And then, Joey disappeared.
Jonathan didn't know how he had done it, but Joey had disappeared. He
hadn't fallen and hit the fields below, he hadn't flown. He had simply
disappeared. This was a story Jonathan knew he couldn't tell his
parents. In fact, even in his state of shock, he was extremely glad that
he had not told his parents where he was going or what he was doing. He
felt bad for Joey's parents, but he knew that there was nothing that he
could do.
Jonathan stared over the edge of that cliff for a long while before going
home. At one point, he started to cry, but then decided that Joey must
really have known what he was doing.
As Jonathan grew older, he wondered what would have happened had he
gone with his friend Joey. He couldn't begin to imagine. And he
couldn't find the courage or the energy within himself to imagine for
himself, or to jump, and to perhaps see what his friend had seen.
_GOD_
Deborah Bryan
19 June, 1995
The fears of a people
And the death of a God
The bright sunshine to burn us
Ruin us. Destroy us.
No longer the able
And a heaven that lies beyond
Our reach,
Our desire
Into hell, great pits of fire.
So we are alone
Rampant hatred, no love
But without a god to judge us.
Ruin us. Destroy us.
Loss of innocence no longer bemoaned
And the grat He no longer above
And a world that lines in ruins
Our pain,
Our pain alone.
So little left to know.
Small few of us remain,
And still we wonder why.
We need no god to destroy us, nor sun, nor flames
We destroy, we destroy us.
No longer the pain
No time for goodbyes
Nor remembrance,
Nor fear.
No longer anything sacred, nothing left to hold dear.
_Photographs_
Deborah Bryan
26 April, 1995
For months, I had carried a photograph of myself (nothing spectacular, simply
a photograph showing a smiling, skating newly nine-year-old at her party.
Something small to cheer me up. It was a reminder, I suppose, that I had
been happy once; maybe I could be happy again.
`==='
Adam found me, I remember, clutching my photograph in dead sleep. Gone.
Insomnia finally showing benefits - the medication I'd hoarded away became my
saviour.
`==='
Who am I? I don't remember anymore, and I remember less as each moment passes.
Death is soothing in that way - not just a BANG! Oops, you're gone, so long!
Very laid-back. You know. "Wait, who was I yesterday?" It's not so lonely,
this fading away. There's no one to talk to, don't know how we'd talk in the
first place, don't know what we'd say. "Hi, I'm nameless. Dead, too." "Hey,
you too?" I think we'd all get pretty bored.
But I can feel 'em. I know they're there, wondering when all memories will
fade, the moment when "I" disappears, drifts away, fade lights, exit stage.
`==='
Adam calls the number --- it evades me now ... the one that brings the noises,
the people, the lights ... he is screaming, tears slide down his face ...
someone tries to calm him. Then, blackness. For a little while, anyhow.
I think, back then, it seemed to me that I should feel something, anything ...
my fiancee screaming, crying, me dead.
Not such a big deal, though. He'll get over it. Yes.
`==='
Feel vague now . Names ... Adam. Melissa. Jesse. Aaron. So many names.
No faces to match ... not anymore.
`==='
Here ... go ... 'bye ... was a blast ... beautiful ...
Oh ... over ... was right ... fade ... go way ...
love you
...
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To contribute, mail
brideb@efn.org
To receive this monthly, mail
brideb@efn.org
You can find my webpage at
http://www.efn.org/~brideb/Deb
Thank you for reading!
