Tanya Archives

April 2, 2007

Tanya:Untitled

“Dear God. My head,” she moaned. She choked back a dry heave as the hot water ran over her pounding temples.

Last night had been… what? They’d taken Tom’s car to the club. He called her maddeningly beautiful. They danced, drank, kissed, drank. He worshipped the ground she walked on. The nicest guy she’d ever known.

And she’d left the club with Gary. She shook her aching head, confused. “That can’t be right…”

And then she remembered the look on Tom’s face as she left the club. It was true. She sat on the floor of the shower and sobbed.

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June 29, 2007

Tanya: Memories

Denny O’Reardon was my first, in Poughkeepsie. He was an older guy, married with two kids. Just looking for a good time. Then Joey Something in Toronto. Single, cute. Young.

Bobby Sinclair in Boston was my favorite. He was fast and wild, and had a sweet Corvette. After that there were two girls, but that was just a phase.

Tom was my latest. I ended that last night, downtown. They say you get numb, that it starts to matter less. But I remember the gleam of the knife and the blood, and still feel the rush, from every single one.

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July 10, 2007

Tanya: Nearly

“Oh my god, George. The water’s almost up to the door of the car. Come ON!”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“You’ve got the kids, right, Cindy? Ok, strap them in. I’m just going to grab some bottled water from the pantry.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Honey, the water’s still rising. Get out here.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Ok, I’m coming. Stop crying.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Mommy, where’s Mickey?”

“I love you. I love... woof.”

“Jesus, George. Get the DOG.

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July 11, 2007

Tanya: Love Grenade

“This is wonderful,” Butterfly shrieked. “The end of war. Peace will reign throughout the world!”

The news had come out that morning, a Love Grenade had been developed by the government. An impromptu gathering had formed on the National Mall, and happy hippies abounded.

“Everyone will put down their weapons and seek friendship with their enemies,” Cactus agreed. “Finally they’ll stop fighting and sing Kumbaya.”

The scientists watched on television as the joyful speakers celebrated their new weapon. “They obviously didn’t read the details. Should we tell them?”

“That it’s concentrated toxic waste from Love Canal? Why spoil their mood?”

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August 8, 2007

Tanya: Peach

She pulled the small bottle from the receiving end of the still, and replaced it with another. Peach this week. The supply ship wouldn’t be around for another eight months, so they were left to provide for themselves.

Peach was the terraboy Jake’s favorite, and she’d made it just for him. He’d had a bad week, accidentally jacking the air off from shift commander Sharpton’s work suit, three days before. He’d been legally cleared, but was still utterly despondent.

She remembered how Sharpton had dishonored her baby sister, corked the two bottles, and hitched to the bar, to comfort the Earthy.

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October 1, 2007

Tanya: Untitled

My wife holds me tightly in the darkness as my shaking slows, the visions of breaking glass and slumping bodies still burning in my mind.

The first gunman came into the office quietly, unnoticed. The other started yelling just seconds before the first began firing, startling us into looking the wrong way. Running the wrong way. Then nothing but filing cabinets blowing apart, phones disintegrating. Blood splattering in slow motion across a photo of someone’s daughter, dressed as a clown.

Twenty-eight years ago, and now I only wake myself screaming about twice a month. I’m sure my wife appreciates that.

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October 2, 2007

Tanya: Less Than Infinity

Clackety-clack.

The monkey thought about his mama monkey, who had nursed and cared for him in the jungle so many years ago. She was lost, eaten by a leopard.

Clackety-clack.

He scratched his fuzzy cheek and thought of his sisters, with whom he had cuddled and groomed in the trees, even a few months ago. He missed them to the point of despair.

Clackety-clack.

So lonely in this cage, in this sterile lab, far from his own kind.

Clackety-clack.

“To be, or not to be, that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer…” he typed.

Clackety-clack.

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October 3, 2007

Tanya: Untitled

“I’m so glad I finally found you,” I sighed, slumping into the seat next to her. “I have so much to explain…”

The young blonde looked up from her margarita, bemused. Right for her to be mad.

“I missed you every day. You and your mama. I hired…”

She edged her chair away, sneering. I’d been asking for this.

“I hired a private detective to find you, Karen. I want to make it right. Make up for walking out. Please…”

But when I tried to hug her, The Girl Who Was Not Karen suddenly became The Girl With The Taser.

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October 11, 2007

Tanya: Untitled

“What’s that?” the tourist lady asked him, as they exited the subway.

“Huh? What’s what?” he replied.

She pointed up at the featureless, silvery-grey disk hovering high above the Chrysler Building. “That round thing up there.”

After a moment, his eyes seemed to change focus. “Oh, that’s been there for months. I don’t know what it is.” He shook his head dazedly and walked away. The tourist continued to stare.

A mile above her head, Watcher 632 nodded approvingly as the pedestrian stopped seeing the ship again. Across the room, the monitor showed another disk settling over the Sears Tower.

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October 12, 2007

Tanya: Untitled

I got the call as I was finishing up a robbery case, and drove out to the farm to investigate.

Sure enough, there were four bodies up in the hayloft. Two girls -- a pretty redhead and a brunette with glasses -- plus a blonde guy and a dog. I never did figure out how the dog got up there.

The only survivor was a skinny guy, obviously stoned off his ass, shaking and crying.

I knew within minutes that there was no case, though. Textbook breaking and entering. Old Man Jenkins was fully within his rights to shoot them.

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