Wombat Stew

On our wedding anniversary, I ask my husband, Luke Blackburn, to buy me some fish stew. Since I'm in my first trimester, I keep vomiting every now and then due to morning sickness. Right now, I have an intense craving for fish stew. But Luke comes home empty-handed in the middle of the night. He claims that he's completely forgotten about my request. I don't say anything at all. All I notice is a strand of long hair sticking to Luke's collar that doesn't belong to me. Some time later, I see the fish stew I never got to eat in a photo that Luke's colleague, Ruby Pollard, has uploaded to her social media feed. The caption reads, "Luke ordered this dish for me. He knows that I love fish stew from this particular restaurant the most. I'm so touched by his gesture!" In the photo, I see a pair of familiar hands picking out fish bones from the meat tenderly just for Ruby.

At Opaline Corp, the lowest-performing employee had to eat a plate of pasta mixed with live worms. This time, Tristan Crocker lost three clients and landed dead last. To keep Tristan from feeling singled out, my wife, Wendy Kline, hit me with a nine-million-dollar performance penalty because I showed up one minute late while sick—even though I'd brought in three million in revenue. Just like that, I became the first employee in company history with negative earnings. Grinning, Tristan shoved the plate toward me. "Wendy updated the company rules last night to keep everyone in line. Anyone who's late gets penalized three times their performance. You always said mistakes deserve punishment. Now that it's your turn, you're not backing out, right?" Every eye in the room locked on me, waiting for me to lose it. Wendy quickly sent me a message: [The nine million is only on paper. It's not a real fine. With your talent, you'll earn it back in three months. Tristan's allergic to worms. If he ends up in the hospital over a punishment, it'll damage the company's reputation. And if people hear we punished an outsider, that'll look even worse.] [You're my husband. You're one of us. I love you, which is why I'm giving you the chance to show some leadership.] [Once this blows over, I'll give you an extra twenty dollars a month, okay?] When I didn't reply, she finally snapped. "Company rules apply to everyone, even the top performer. If you don't like it, you're free to leave." I nodded, unclipped my badge, and set it on the table. "Fine. I quit." I looked at her. "And while we're at it, let's get divorced."

No one has seen him, No one can tell what he looks like, No one can tell if he's human, wolf, dragon, elf or vampire. We've only heard his very deep, hoarse voice that doesn't sound so humanly. We only know he's a ruthless beast, And that beast is the king of all supernatural creatures -he is King Wymond. He is an abomination -a mistake made by the moon goddess. There are rumors that he is immortal -are there still any immortals in this age? He walks the lands every night and kills any soul that crosses path with him or it, He never lets anyone see him and doesn't attend public meetings. He's always inside his palace, with those two big gates locking him away and isolating him from the world. Weird! How did he ended up becoming the king then? Every five years, girls who have come of age (18years to 25years), from different species (werewolves, vampires, witches, elves and dragons) are taken to his palace. We don't know why they are taken there, And we dare not ask why, because asking why is death penalty. And strangely, all the girls taken to the palace always come back alive, but they end up losing their memories of what had happened in there. No one has enough courage to investigate and find out what's going on -investigating is like walking into the valley of death. These are stories my grandma always told me when I was a kid, I don't know if they are real or if she was saying those things just to scare me. But I still couldn't help but wonder if it's true, Why does those girls end up losing their memories? Could there be a deep secret behind those closed, big gates?

Danny James is moving across country. California to Wisconsin to live with her best friend who she met online. Once arriving, she puts in an application to be a tour guide at the local zoo. When she got the job, she went in to meet the animals. "Lions, Tigers, and Bears, oh my!" After meeting them, she's assigned her job. After days of working there, she grew fond of the wolves. They were so interesting to her.

There's a little shop downstairs that sells organ soup. It's always packed with customers. People line up as if bewitched, eager for a bowl. I've often wondered what secret ingredient made their soup so irresistible. This afternoon, I finally found my answer. Floating in my bowl was a piece of human skin—inked with a tattoo I knew all too well. It was the one etched on my boyfriend's arm.

On a trip to Chicily, my wife, Rosa Stone, and her first love, Jack Cud, insisted on feeding wild, starving wolves. I simply reminded them, "You might attract more hungry wolves." They turned on me, calling me a heartless monster. In the end, I was right. A pack of wolves really did show up. They circled the car, watching us hungrily. Jack was bitten by one. To my surprise, Rosa kicked me out of the car, yelling, "Jack is hurt! He needs to be taken to the hospital! Distract the wolves, I'll come back for you!" I watched them drive away, leaving me behind, surrounded by hungry wolves closing in from all sides. My heart sank. But, Rosa forgot one thing—I was a great Wolvesmith.