Story 59. Written by Jim Waitlord

We bought two more websites. The first one is like, you put in what you've studied, what you love doing, your skills, where you live, all that stuff, and it tells you what to do with your life, what job to get, how to make money, and how to be happy for the rest of your days. It's awesome because some genius built it, someone way smarter than any AI, and it keeps getting even smarter. It's called talenttoactionplan.com. You just plug in a few things, and boom, you get solid advice. It's only five dollars. You have to pay because, let's be real, if it was free you'd think it was junk. But for the price of a burger, you get your whole life sorted. This tech is cutting-edge, like nothing else out there. We can do this because we have a connection to the future and get our info straight from the source. It can also tell your fortune; ask anything, and it'll give you an answer. But maybe by asking, you're actually making the answer happen yourself. You’re shaping your own future. You’ll probably never know for sure—did I do that, or did the site already know what was up?

The other site is a whole new art form. You give them info about yourself and how you feel, and an artist creates a picture just for you that you can get tattooed. It's called emmarally-art.com. And this is just the beginning. This art thing will branch out into other stuff too, like painting and movies. Each image is numbered, so yours will be totally unique. Someone else could get the same tattoo, but it would be like they’re stealing your life story. The site will hire talented artists who will design a custom tattoo for anyone who wants one and pays up. If someone with one of these tattoos dies, the skin can be taken off and displayed as art, if that's what they wanted. And the person lives on forever through the art.

When I was younger, I don't even remember when exactly, like k+1 years ago, I met this super powerful genie. They said they'd grant me two wishes. So, first, I wished to always have a carrot in my backpack. And second, I wished to stay young forever. Maybe religious people messed up by only asking Jesus for eternal life, not eternal youth. Anyway, the point is, this is the why behind everything. Everything else is just, you know, what happens because of it.

I was driving past the cemetery and thought, all sarcastic, "Yeah, cemeteries are full of indispensable people." And then I felt the dead, like, seeping into me.

March 31, 6:32 PM

The end

The Legend of Spring

Written by: Rosa J. Vargas

April 3, 2:45 AM

Two guys working public works are standing by the dumpster. Their job is to take the dirt that the other guys shovel into wheelbarrows and dump it in the dumpster. There are three guys digging and three guys shoveling. One team's ahead of them, and the other's behind them. The wheelbarrows usually come one at a time, but sometimes they get there at the same time. It's early spring, still kinda cold. They have the easiest job. They're just chatting while they work. The taller guy says, "I have a unique talent." "I'm really good at drawing." "I wanna be a tattoo artist because that's how I wanna use my skills." "Think you could help me make that happen?" The other guy's like, "Totally!" "Just do a few drawings, like some pretty girl's face or something, and I'll join some tattoo groups online and we'll try to sell them." "You don't even have to do the tattooing." "Whoever buys the drawing can get it done." "Actually, we could even do custom tattoos." "We'll ask clients about themselves, like what their personality is like and stuff, and you can make unique designs that are numbered and only for that person." They get all hyped up thinking about it, the tall guy about being an artist and the short guy about getting rich managing him. The next day, same job. The tall guy gives the short guy the drawing he did last night. He says it took him three hours. The short guy opens it up all excited, and it's just some abstract drawing, nothing special. He's like, "This isn't a girl's face." The taller guy says, "Well, I can't draw faces, just abstract stuff." The short guy says, "Here, I'll show you." He flips the paper over and draws two faces in like two seconds. They keep talking. The short guy says, "There are two colors: black and red." "That could be our signature style." "We'll only use those two colors, or, well, you will." The tall guy says, "True. Tattoos are solid; there's no empty space on them." They decide the tall guy will color the drawing by tomorrow. On the third day, when they get to the dumpster, the short guy asks, "So, did you finish it?" The tall guy says, "Not yet, but get this—I showed your drawings to my mom, and she said they were really good! She actually liked them, unlike my drawings!" Time passes, wheelbarrows come and go. People with disabilities are handing out flyers on the street. The tall guy says, "Look at that person, I can't tell if they're a guy or a girl!" The short guy says, "Definitely a girl." "But let's ask anyway." When the person gets close, the short guy's like, "Can I have one?" He takes a flyer and asks, "What's your name?" The person says, "Emma." And the short guy's like, "Hey, wanna marry me?" Emma, who is indeed a girl, blushes and gives the short guy a flirty look before hurrying off, embarrassed. They get back to work. The short guy says, "You know who Vasarely was?" "A famous painter, graphic artist." "Let's combine our names, and that'll be our art style." "Like, emmarally-art!" The tall guy isn't into it, but the short guy won't let it go. "It'll be huge! All you gotta do is write 'emmarally' or 'emmarally-art' on your drawing when you color it in." The tall guy says he's too chicken to do that. The short guy takes the drawing and writes "emmarally" on his own sketches. "See? Easy!" Next morning, back at work. "Did you do it?" "Yeah, but I didn't write 'emmarally'." "I'll do it then." Just then, the boss comes over and tells the short guy he's off dumpster duty and has been reassigned to mowing lawns. He has to learn how to use the mower today. He doesn't even get to look at the drawing. He starts learning to mow, but the mower's super loud, they don't give him earplugs, and the whole thing sucks. He quits. He never sees the tall guy again. He's doing his own thing now, days are going by. He's waiting for his last paycheck. It finally comes, but it's tiny because they took out the cost of the work clothes. He has to seriously consider quitting smoking or not paying his phone bill just to make ends meet. But he decides those things are less important; he's buying the emmarally-art.com domain, no matter what. Since he has nothing to do, he's biking around town and runs into another friend, the medium-sized one. This is before he got his last check. He tells his friend about the emmarally idea. His friend thinks it’s not bad. "They sell framed pictures for almost nothing at those thrift stores." "We should buy them and repaint them." "Then sell them online." "And make a website." "emmarally-art.com." So now the short guy is sitting at his computer writing this. The money's in his account, and tomorrow he's meeting his friend to tell him they're doing this thing. It’s an art form. They could even sell art by psychiatric patients. Art made by people with mental illness, painting subconsciously or while listening to music, or just by people who think they're artists. The medium-sized friend is actually pretty good at drawing and painting. Who knows what'll happen?

3:51

Little one, come closer!

You're too far away,

I can't hear you!

Come closer!

Are you living the life you wanted?

I've waited so long to hold your hand.

A new wind's blowing, I'll move on.

But you should know, in everything,

It's always been you I'm looking for!

I was cold and wet,

Waited for you long enough.

Tell me what's going on with you!

If a new wind blows, tell me and

I’ll move on.

Little one, come closer!

Come closer!

But you should know, in everything,

It’s always been you I’m looking for!

4:01

A cross on a hillside,

A burning angel dances

Around the blazing sun.

A cross on a hillside