Tarnished

By Iola Foxx


A five-year-old sits next to me on the plane.

“Hey.” I smile. “I’ve got a piece of gold in my pocket.”

“No way, cool! Can I see it?”

“Sure thing, buddy.” I pull out the foil remains of a chocolate coin.

“That isn’t gold.”

“I know, but I like to pretend it is.”

“That’s stupid.”

Pre-Apocalyptic

By Iola Foxx


Turn on the TV. Static.
Try the internet. HTTP 404.
Try the phone. Dial tone.
Try the radio. More static.

The end of the world is coming, but this isn’t the beginning. The end hasn’t started yet.

No news. No instructions. Just static.

It gives new meaning to “there will be no warning,” doesn’t it?

Road Trip

By Iola Foxx (Based on a true story)


Being stuffed into the back seat of a car at night isn’t especially entertaining. Thick fog only offered a view of oncoming headlights, and it was too dark to read. One hope left…

“I’m booooooored! Can we do something? Pleeease?”

“Fine!” My brother shot me a dark glare. “I spy a car. Guess the model.”

Grasshopper

by Iola Foxx


I once watched a grasshopper gnaw upon a single blade of summer grass underneath the searing noon sun. He sat and chewed, as if savoring the plant’s vitality. The wind rustled the grass, and for a fleeting moment, they were one.

Winter has fallen. That blade is now imprisoned in frost.

I miss the grasshopper.

Hunting Game

by Iola Foxx


I’m running. He’s chasing. Ha-ha, he’ll never catch up! Okay, stay focused. Wouldn’t be any fun if he actually caught me.

Ahead, my den. I dive in. Safe. I win again.

No, he’s digging! Unfair! Cheating! Retaliate!

I bite, squirm, yip, claw. He shies, whines, runs to his master.

Master has a gun.

Game over.

Along For The Ride

by Iola Foxx


“So where do you get off?”

“The fifth stop.”

I grab the first window seat. I hate taking the bus. It’s agonizingly boring, so I stare at traffic and imagine I can fly over it all, or turn into a cheetah and zip between vehicles, or sometimes--

“Hey.”

“Huh? What?”

“You just missed your stop.”

All Aboard

by Iola Foxx


“So buddy, let me get this straight. You snuck onto the train without a ticket?”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t know it was gonna crash.”

“So you purposely stole your passage?”

“Yep, guess so.”

“I see…”

The angel checked his clipboard.

“Ok, sit tight buddy. The bus to Hell should arrive in about five minutes.”