Heroes do not exist and if they did, I would not be one of them.

Happy endings do not exist, and if they did, I lost mine a long time ago.

True love does not exist, and if it did, I have long lost my love.

Peace does not exist, and if it did, I would be the reason it’s gone.

Pure hearts do not exist, and if they did, mine would be rotten.

Bad people do not exist, and if they did, the bad would worship me.

God does not exist, and if he did, he would frown upon me.

Hell does not exist, and if it did, I’d be sent further then that.

Heaven does not exist, and if it did, I would be tainted.

Perfect people do not exist, and if they did, I’d be the reason they have imperfections.

Fair rules do not exist, and if they did, I’d be the one to break them.

Villians do not exist, and if they did, I would be their role model.

No matter how good I am, or how kind, or how caring, or how sweet, I will always be the bad guy through someone’s eyes.

What a strong little mortal-

I asked you for mercy,

But you struck me with your mighty sword,

Right down my skull.

Did you not see me?

“Please...”

I begged.

“Show me mercy...”

But you did not!

Everytime I try to trap you,

Or kill you,

Or conquer you,

You always have a trick up your sleeve!

I will win.

Mark my words,

Dear friend,

The sky can't rain blood forever.

I will find a way to take you down,

My screams will become your own!

If you do not know what I'm talking about,

Then move on.

This is targeted at someone on Prose,

And they know who they are.

Tick Tock, Dear friend,

Time is running out!

You know what you've done.

Characters: Me, 3 brothers, mom, dad.

So when I was much younger (Somewhere around 4 years old) my family was on a trip, and we were all driving around for some time. Now, if nothing wrong had happened, I would not be writing this, so here’s what went on:

One of my brothers had this huge bag of Twizzlers, which he had refused to share with the rest of us. My dad had warned him not to eat the whole thing, but him also being really little, he did not listen. Yes, he ate the ENTIRE bag in ONE hour!

So after a while on our little road trip, my brother started to feel sick. My dad starts yelling at him saying:

“WELL I TOLD YOU NOT TO EAT THE WHOLE BAG”

And my mom was like:

“Well you should have paid more attention to him!”

So an argument breaks out about the eaten bag of Twizzlers.

Now me and my other 2 siblings didn’t get a single treat from the bag my brother ate. So we got hungry.

Me: MOMMMM! I’M HUNGRY!!!

Mom: Oh hang on sweetie....

Brother: I feel so sick!

Dad: WELL I WARNED YOU-

So we are all screaming at one another, and I just break out in tears at my hunger issue. My other 2 siblings are also crying, and my dad and older brother are yelling back and forth about the Twizzlers bag.

Dad: OK! THEY WON’T STOP SCREAMING!

Mom: Can’t we just stop somewhere to eat?

Dad: WHERE ARE WE GONNA GO!?

Siblings&me: I’M HUNGRY!!!

Mom: ANYWHERE!!!

So we all decided to stop at a restaurant. We all get out of the car, and we are just YELLING at one another! I’m crying, 2 of my brothers are arguing now about their need for food, my older brother is complaining about how sick he feels, my mom is yelling at my dad about his bad supervising skills, my dad is grabbing a Ziploc bag in case my brother throws up, and despite our chaos, we walk inside.

Now let me be clear, this place is nearly EMPTY!!! There is almost no one here, except for a few people, and those few people are really quiet.

So...Just imagine an empty restaurant. It’s quiet and peaceful. Then all of a sudden the front door bursts open, and a family of 6 walks inside screaming at one another!

The manager is glaring at us, but decides to seat us anyway. We weave our way between everyone, (Keep in mind we are all yelling, and I’m crying) and before we even sit down all the way, my older brother throws up into the Ziploc bag!

We didn’t even sit down yet! And he vomits in the bag! Just note that this is a Ziploc bag, so it is CLEAR! You can see the Puke, and it’s all red because of the candy he had!

Think things were bad enough? Well, they will get worse. The bag had a hole in it. So all the red puke is just spraying out the side of the bag, my dad is screaming at us to move away from the bag, my mom is trying to contain my 2 brothers, and I’m still crying about my hunger problem! Everyone....everyone...was staring at us!

My dad decided we should leave, and we rushed out of the restaurant, spreading vomit all over the floor and the people we pass by. And we’re still YELLING!

We just paid for the trouble, and left the restaurant with empty stomachs, a leaking bag of puke, and in a very miserable mood.

We argued the whole way back.

What great memories!

I was appalled as I stared unblinking in the mirror. My husband kept biting his lips not to laugh, clearly unfazed and, unbelievably entertained.

“How can you laugh?” I asked in my new baritone. He burst out laughing again.

“How can you not laugh? This is priceless. All these years I’ve always said you were more like a guy than a woman and now, here we are.”

“Not funny! You were talking about my attitude not…not… this!” I shouted, cringing at the sound of my voice and the new appendage staring back at me in the mirror.

“But you bringin’ sexy back, yeah!” he started singing Timberlake’s old song and wiggling his hips.

“Are you nuts??? How are we going to explain this to people? What will we tell Tommy? Hey sweetie, Mom woke up a man this morning. But don’t worry, she’s…he’s…still your mom. What the heck? And what about my mom? She’s going to flip.”

“Tommy will be fine. You know him. He takes everything in stride. And your mom doesn’t know who you are anyway any more so what difference does it make?"

“Not funny.”

“Wasn’t trying to be funny, babe. It’s the truth.” He put his arm around me. He was still bigger than me. I had a nice build, but I was a little guy. LOL. A little guy. “We’ll get through this. I mean, you woke up and boom, beard and balls. Maybe you’ll wake up tomorrow and it will be boom, boobs are back.” He tried not to laugh. Unsuccessfully.

“We can only hope,” I sighed. “In the meantime, what do we do?”

“Go with the flow, babe. Act like everything is normal.”

“I am NOT having sex with you!”

“Hahahahaha! You’re not my type, babe. Sorry. No offense.” He kissed my cheek. “I kind of get why you always want me to shave before I kiss you.” He started laughing again.

“Shut. Up.” I left the bathroom. “I’m going to the gym.”

“Hey,” he shouted as he turned on the shower. “Watch out for the women! You’re a real hottie. Fresh meat!”

I slammed the bedroom door.

****

And then I immediately opened it, running back to the bathroom.

“I can’t go to the gym! This body does not have a membership there.”

Hoots from behind the shower curtain.

“Give me a sec. I’ll bring you as a guest and then go to work from there. Okay?”

“Who am I? I have no ID as this, this…aaaaaah!” I ended on a groan.

“We’ll say you’re your brother and you were robbed while clubbing last night and don’t have any ID right now.”

“I don’t have a brother!”

“Babe, you’re also not a guy most of the time,” he cracked up laughing again.

“Maybe I’ll just stay home and try to sleep and see if I’m me again when I wake up.”

He turned off the water.

“Don’t give in to the invisible forces at work! Take the bull by the horns! Go out there and live it up as a guy!” He said as he toweled off. “Look at it as an opportunity to see how the other half lives. Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to be a guy?”

I rolled my eyes. “You wouldn’t be this chipper if you woke up as a woman.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But that’s not what we’re dealing with here.” He put his hands on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, babe. Everything will be fine.” Then he hugged me. My little guy woke up. Awkward!

“Oh my god!” I screeched (a baritone man screech), pushing my husband away.

“I’m sorry, hon,” he said practically crying from laughing so hard as he walked into our bedroom. “You’ll have to learn to control that.” More laughter. “Think about, puppies and kittens and babies or something.”

“I hate you!” I said.

“Clearly, you love me,” he replied, gagging on his laughter.

He got me into the gym no problem. Everyone at the front desk was really nice to my brother, telling me what a nice sister I have, always smiling and cheerful. It was pleasantly weird and then awkward when one said, “I thought Gabrielle was an only child?”

“Ha ha,” I respond, “she probably likes to think so, but, no such luck. She’s stuck with me.”

It got worse.

I have always prided myself on being able to appreciate both feminine and masculine beauty. I soon discovered that that may not be something you do when you’re new to being a man. Or ever as a man. Think adolescent boy in front of a class at school, his crush smiles at him and all of a sudden, his pants have a tent out front. Yep. The hottest woman at the gym walked by in what anyone else would consider lycra underwear, breasts spilling out of the top, hanging over a six pack belly. I smiled as she walked by and felt a little tingly down below. She looked at me like she ate something nasty and kept walking. At the same time, I realized the tingling was more like a rush…and I immediately put my gym bag in front of me, surely eight shades of purple at this point.

I walk/ran to the locker room, oops, sorry ladies, turned around and ran into the men’s locker room and sat on the nearest bench. Puppies, kittens, babies, puppies, kittens, babies.

“You okay, dude?”

I look up, and the sex god of the gym is standing in front of me. Naked. Well hung does not begin to describe what I was looking at. Directly in front of me. I dragged my eyes upward and said, “Yeah, thanks.”

“You sure? You look a little uptight. You need to relax some. I’m heading to the sauna. Want to come with?”

At which point I notice that he is GROWING right before my eyes. Sex god is gay?!?! Inside I squeal and think there would be some really disappointed women in the gym. At the same time, I grab my bag, scoot up and away from IT, and say, “Uh, no, but thanks, really. I’m not a fan of saunas. But, um, have a good time. Bye!” the last said as I ran out the door.

I managed to run ten miles on the treadmill, stretch and leave the gym without any more mishaps. Thank god.

As per my usual, I stopped at Starbucks on my way home.

“Hey, Chris!” I said to my favorite barista.

“Hey,” he replied politely to the stranger that was me. I forgot.

“I’ll have a grande hot chocolate, please.”

“Right away. That will be $4.57.”

I show him the app on my phone. He scans it. Then he looks at me suspiciously. “Whose phone is that?”

“Mine,” I say.

“I don’t think so,” he says a little menacingly.

Oh, right. “I should say, it’s my sister’s. She loaned it to me because, uh, I was robbed last night and I have no phone, no money or ID right now.”

“Gabrielle doesn’t have any siblings,” he says looking like he’s about to come around the counter and make me submit. (Note: Chris is a body builder when he’s not making diabetes-inducing coffee drinks). I think, jeez, have I told the whole world I am an only child?

I say, “It’s a long story. Forget the hot chocolate. Thanks, bye!” and run out of the store.

I hop in the car and drive to the supermarket. There’s a Starbucks in there and I can get my morning hot chocolate and pick up some groceries. Duh! I should have done that in the first place.

Or not.

I grab a basket as I enter the store and saunter over to the Starbucks counter.

“May I help you?”

“Grande hot chocolate, please.”

“$4.57.”

I hold up my phone, think better of it and hand her a $5 bill.

“Here’s your change, sir,” she says, smiling sweetly. “I’ll have your drink ready in a moment.”

I look around for a guy and realize I am sir, smile and say, “Thanks, miss.”

I roam around the supermarket with my hot chocolate, picking up what I need. In the meat department, a pretty young woman smiles at me a little sultrily, sticks out her chest, licks her lips and asks me what’s the best cut of beef to grill.

“Uh, personally, I like skirt or hanger steak; but, I suspect most people prefer ribeye or porterhouse. Of course, you can’t go wrong with filet mignon.” By this time, she was way into my personal space.

“Thanks. My name is Lily.” She put out her hand for me to shake and held on as she continued. “I’m having some friends over tonight for a barbecue…I would love to have you…”

Tingling, I pulled my hand back and said, “Um, thanks? But, um, my hus…my spouse and I have plans. You have a great day, Lily!” I spun around and headed for check out.

Would this day never end?

At home, I put the groceries away, put the coffee on and then went to shower…where I discovered the only perk to being a guy. Just saying, I could get used to that.

Dressed and in front of my computer with my coffee, I responded to emails, rescheduled my 12:00 Zoom call for the following week (tomorrow might be too soon; I was hopeful that eventually I would be me again) and edited two reports.

Around 3:00, the doorbell rang. I debated not answering. I should have listened to that little voice. It was my neighbor, Jean.

“Hi, Jean,” I said.

“Um, hi. Who are you?” How stupid can I get?

“I’m Gabrielle’s broth- friend. She had to step out for a while. Can I help you?”

“Oh. I just wanted to see if I could borrow the lawn mower. My grass is out of control.”

“I’m sure that wouldn’t be a problem. Even better,” I continued, now excited about being a guy, “I can do it for you.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine. I’ll do it,” she replied, looking a little uncomfortable.

“I would love to! And I know Gabrielle and Evan would never forgive me if I didn’t help you out.”

She smiled, “Evan’s great. He always lends everyone on the block a hand.” She paused, looking in my eyes. “Okay, if you really don’t mind, thanks. I’m at 10 Kingsland – three houses down on the left.”

“I know. I mean, Okay, be there in five.”

It was a hot day, so I pulled an Evan and stripped off my shirt mid-mowing. I was dripping. I thought I looked pretty good with the sprinkling of hair on my chest, hard belly (albeit sans six-pack) and nicely muscled arms. I’m bringing sexy back, yeah!

When I finished, Jean came out with a tall glass of something cold. Had she changed her clothes? I didn’t remember seeing that much cleavage before. I wiped my sweaty face with my shirt.

“Hey, thanks so much,” she said as she handed me the glass. “Lemonade,” she continued, preempting my question. And then, “I realized, I don’t even know your name.”

“Thanks. Oh, um, My name. I have a name. And it’s a boy’s name.”

“Mulan,” she said, laughing.

“Haha, yeah. Tommy loved that movie growing up.”

“My girls, too. And what is your boy’s name?” she said with a smile.

“Oh, um, Steve. Steve, um, Smith. Yeah, Steve Smith.”

“Well, would you like to come sit on the porch for a bit, Steve Smith? It’s cooler there,” Jean asked with what I finally realized was a bit of a flirtatious voice. She touched my arm.

I tingled. Crap. I gulped down the lemonade. “Great lemonade, Jean! Thanks! Raincheck on the porch. Gotta go! Bye!” I said as I pushed the lawn mower down the street.

“Hope to see you again, Steve!” she said waving from her driveway.

Right. Not.

Home again, I took another shower. There is more than one reason teenage boys take multiple showers a day.

When Evan came home, I briefed him on my day (to shouts of laughter) and suggested we cancel our reservations and just eat at home.

“C’mon babe. We’ve been looking forward to trying this new restaurant for weeks!”

“Evannnnnn,” I whined…whining doesn’t sound the same in baritone.

“It’ll be great. No one to recognize you and your lack of siblings, good food, good drinks, we come home, go to sleep and with any luck you wake up tomorrow and everything is back to normal.”

We actually did manage to have a delicious meal without meeting anyone we knew. The waitress flirted with both of us. I thought it was amusing. He got jealous. Seriously. Jealous.

“You know we’re still married, babe, right?” he whispered.

“What? Of course. Why would you even ask that?”

“You’re flirting with the waitress.”

I laughed out loud. “Uh, no. She’s flirting with me. And with you. You don’t see me getting all caveman on you, do you?”

“I’m not a caveman. I know what I know. Are you finished? Let’s get the check.”

“Wow! Are you serious? Evan, I am your wife. I am not flirting with the waitress.”

“Fine. Whatever. I’m tired. Let’s go home.”

Could this day be over? Please!

The waitress brought the check, we paid, we left.

We drove home in silence.

Getting ready for bed, I said, “I’m sorry you’re upset. I really wasn’t flirting.”

“It’s okay. It was just a weird evening, I think.”

“Ha, you should have been me all day. It was one for the books.”

“How do we do this?”

“What?”

“Sleep.”

“What? Put your head on the pillow, close your eyes…”

“You know what I mean. We always cuddle…”

“Ah, well, I’m still your wife, despite the little guy.”

He laughed. “Yeah. Soooo weird. C’mere, babe.”

“We are not having sex,” I said.

“Yeah, no, we’re not. But we are going to cuddle.”

I turned out the light and he curved himself around me. Soon, we were both asleep.

In the morning, I looked down and I had breasts again and no little guy. As I turned over to face him, I said, “Evan! I’m back!” Then, I groaned, “Oh no. No no no no no no no no no no.”

Next to me was a beautiful woman.

I always thought sunrises would look different on Mars. I expected a spectacle I’d never seen before, but instead I got an ’80s dystopian Hollywood movie. There is no colorful light show, just a bland evaporation and shades of endless ochre. The Ochre Planet, they should have called it. But I guess things look different from afar, just like the Earth, hanging carelessly in the distance, as if it wasn’t actually rotting away, slowly, but surely. Light takes 182 seconds to reach us, so if home would go away forever, we wouldn’t know for three minutes and a heartbeat. A few of us have fled the doom, thinking we could cheat our destinies, but time is merciless and drags us all into the abyss that feeds on our greed. We haven’t escaped, we just extended the leash. It’s ironic, we look for hope on this barren planet that bears the name of the god on the altar of which we have sacrificed our home. But in spite of all this, when I think about tomorrow in the hazy twilight of the martian dawn, the Earth always rises in the East.

You know the end is coming, what would be called a ‘happily never after’. So you need some questions answered. They’ll sound prying, forcing a withered rose to open its petals, but they won’t give it away, if you tread carefully.

The first one you ask is the most obvious. It’s multifaceted, smashed into the confines of a few one syllable words.

“Why do you do this?”

His lip curls into a smirk. As if you should see the answer already, like you’re stumbling around blindfolded.

The plane is humming, purring, like a sleeping cat. The plane is preparing to descend, descend into an undoing.

Your palms are sweaty. That’s always been a problem of yours, but now, it’s impossible not to notice. You grip the leather armrests, hoping they’ll hold your sanity down.

You nearly expect him not to respond, to laugh it off and shove it away, but he speaks, keeping his head turned away, shielding it from your judgement.

“What drives humanity is the want of what you can’t have. But I have it all. So, I find joy, motivation, in the next best thing. I want what is wrong.”

This makes sense. It’s slimy, disgusting, like a bucket of toads, but it makes sense.

This will be painful. Well, on to the next question.

“Do you regret what you’ve done?”

This time he actually laughs. Explosive chuckles that bounce around the plane’s cabin.

“No. I never will. The world is meant to be exploited. I’ve been taking, taking, taking, and it’s been giving, giving, giving. Sometimes it throws things at me, sometimes I have to put in a little effort. But I always get what I want. I’ll suck this world dry, if it’s going to let me.”

There’s more, but the plane is swooping down now. On to the final question, the one you can ask now because you’re so close to reality.

“What if you get caught?”

A sigh. A breathy, exhausted one. A twinkle in his eyes.

“I won’t. I have money. I know they say ‘money can’t buy everything’. That’s true. But you know what?”

He pauses.

“It can buy enough. Money can’t buy love, but it can buy compliance. It can’t buy happiness, but it can buy distraction. It can’t buy back the past, but it can buy silence in the future. Money is everyone’s undoing. Throw enough at a problem and you can get it to disappear. I can’t fall, because I can rebuild my pedestal in an instant.”

And then he’s done.

These questions had caused a big bang, of sorts. Your loathing had been miniscule, nearly invisible. Now, everything had expanded into infinity, making a giant, bubbling mess.

He deserves this.

The plane lands, coasts down the runway. You’re excited now. Justice will be served. This man considered the world to be his playground, and someone set fire to it while he wasn’t looking.

It will burn.