...---***Cranberry Winters***---... (hidden faces) Issue 3, April 1996 -------------------- 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 ... --------------------- 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!