Cassie was guarding her family's sheep herd on their ranch in eastern Montana when she sensed a disturbance at the edge of the flock. Gathering her rifle, Cassie waded through the frightened sheep until she came upon an old wolf. The animal appeared to be starving and also had a crippled leg.
The merciful thing to do would be to put the wolf down, but Cassie didn't have the heart to do it. Instead, she went and got her lunch and slowly fed it to the emaciated animal.
Cassie sat on a rock and watched the old wolf gobble down her ham sandwich, cookies, and banana bread. "I wish I had more to give you bud, but that's all I brought," she said to the wolf. The animal seemed to understand and limped back into the dark woods. "Merry Christmas Mr. Wolf," Cassie said into the night.
All of the warning lights on Jake's instrument panel lit up at once and his car stopped cold. He repeatedly tried to get the car started again, but it was no use. Trying his cell phone was also futile since he was in the middle of nowhere.
Jake exited the car and looked around. Off in the distance there appeared to be some kind of farmhouse. He locked the car and started walking.
By late afternoon, Jake had reached the farmhouse.Threshers and other equipment rusted in the big yard. A grey-muzzled lab gave a half-hearted protest to his arrival and then settled back to his nap.
Jake knocked on the weathered door and a woman that he estimated to be in her early eighties answered the door. "I'm sorry to bother you, but my car broke down and I need to use your phone." Without a word, the old woman opened the door, and pointed to a wall-mounted phone in the kitchen.
While using the phone, Jake studied the photos that lined the walls of the kitchen. The farm was once filled with children and activity and he couldn't help but feel a terrible loss.
When he had finished with his call, Jake thanked the woman and departed the house. The napping dog huffed a little but took no other action. For just a moment, he thought he heard the good-natured shouting of men as they brought in the harvest and then it was gone.
Ambassador Warner looked at his news feed: No wars, no riots, no criminal activity, no civil disturbances of any kind. His current diplomatic assignment was a newly discovered planet about twenty light-years from Earth.
The dominant species on the planet was an intelligent bovine-like creature called the "Kastus." Ambassador Warner found the Kastus to be warm and pleasant but they were also boring as hell. Since being posted to the Kastus homeworld he had not had anything even close to resembling a diplomatic crisis.
After one particularly boring day, Warner fantasized about creating a little excitement. The Kastus diet consisted of a variety of grasses grown by a network of computer-directed robots. After a bit of hacking, Warner was able to make some changes to the network and left a few signs that a sub-species of the Kastus called the"Jyfis" were responsible for the intrusion.
Warner's next step was to blow up a Jyfis building and leave clues that the Kastus were responsible. It wasn't long before he had a small-scale war going and he couldn't remember being so happy.
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David Andrews awoke suddenly from the most vivid dream that he had ever had. There was a boy he had once gone to school with in the dream, and the boy was trying to tell him something.
Tyler Evans had been David's classmate fifty years before and one day he just disappeared. As far as David could remember, no trace was ever found of Tyler.
David had not thought of Tyler in years and found it odd that he would be dreaming about him and what was the message that Tyler was trying to tell him?
The next night, Tyler once again appeared to David in a dream and David found himself in an old playground where the kids would sometimes go after school. Tyler was happily playing on a swing set and then dark clouds appeared overhead.
The playground was on the other side of town and out of curiosity, David decided to take a drive over there. As he expected, the playground had long since been abandoned. The swingsets and other equipment were broken and rusted. A large sign indicated that a new government housing project was going to be constructed at the site.
David stared at the dilapidated swing set and suddenly Tyler was there. Still eight years old, Tyler smiled at him. "Is it really you Tyler?" David asked. The boy looked away as if remembering something from long ago.
"There was a man... a stranger...he did terrible things, but when it was over, I came back here. There were lots of kids to play with back then." David looked over the deserted playground. Indeed, all the kids were gone.
From somewhere, Tyler produced a bright red ball and he and David played kickball until the streetlights came on and it was time to go home.
Riley quickly glanced around him to make sure it was safe and than launched the rotten tomato at the school bus driver.
The tomato impacted the back of the driver and splattered in all directions. Angrily, the driver pulled into a nearly empty parking lot and then stood and faced his passengers.
"I'm not going to ask who did it" the driver began "because I already know and that person will be appropriately punished." he then returned to his seat and directed the bus back into traffic.
Riley didn't believe that he had been seen when he threw the tomato and yet he wondered about the driver's ominous statement. What did "appropriately punished" mean anyway?
Because Riley lived way out in the country he was usually the last stop. As the bus approached Riley's house he felt the vehicle begin to accelerate instead of slowing down.
Riley yelled at the driver but the bus continued to go faster and faster. Corn and wheat fields passed by in a blur and in no time at all, they were leaving farm country and heading through suburbs and cities.
After what seemed like several hours, the bus approached a large body of water. In terror, Riley felt the bus plunge into the water but instead of sinking it glided on the surface. Eventually the water gave way to land once again and Riley watched as the bus raced down narrow roads and six-lane freeways.
In despair, Riley began to cry and eventually drifted off to sleep. Sometime later he was awakened by a loud noise-the bus had finally stopped and he was home. As he was leaving the bus, Riley glanced at the grinning driver. "You be sure and have a nice day" the man said as he opened the exit door.
Brian Sanders was looking for a parking space at his job when he saw a car from his distant past appear in his rearview mirror for just an instant.
A forty year old memory came flooding back to his mind. It was the last race of the year-Jack Taylor with his pitch- black Buick 442 and he with his 69 Chevelle SS.
At the start, Taylor jumped ahead, but Brian eventually caught up and won the race. Even after the race the two had remained casual friends, but after graduation, Jack split for California and that was the last Brian had heard from him.
A week later the old Buick appeared again and this time Brian decided to follow it. The black car headed out of town until it came to an old salvage yard and then disappeared somewhere in the labyrinth of old wrecks.
Brian went into the office and found a man in overalls squinting at a computer. "What can I do for you sir?" the old man asked Brian. "I'm looking for a car." Brian answered.
"Any particular kind of car?" the old man asked. "A 1968 pitch-black Buick 442." Brian replied. The old man got up and motioned for Brian to follow. Together then went out into the yard and walked to the end of a long series of junk cars.
"Here it is" the old man said pointing to a twisted pile of wreckage. "The owner was killed in a race back in 81. I kept it as a memorial of sorts"
Brian walked around the rusted hulk remembering his long ago youth. "Did you know Taylor?" the old man asked. "Yeah, but I never knew he ended up here" Brian answered.
At dusk, Brian left the salvage yard and watched as its sign shrunk to a small square in his rearview mirror and then disappeared altogether.
