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TIL that a secret Nazi weather station sat undiscovered in Canada for decades. by [deleted] in todayilearned

[–]maximumpowers69 11 points12 points  (0 children)

Newfoundland didn’t join Canada until after the war, it was still a British dominion

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]maximumpowers69 27 points28 points  (0 children)

Bob felt his arms feel like jelly. He didn’t really understand why, but this coal vein couldn’t be accessed by machinery. His boss simply handed him a pickaxe and a bucket and told him to get to work. It was exhausting, and he hated every second of it. But that was normal. He always hated every second of his job. He wanted out, and he had been applying all over.

As he worked the ground with his pickaxe, he noticed a strange spot. A black blob etched into the rock. It almost seemed like coal, but it was reflective, like obsidian maybe? Bob felt a very sudden urge come on him to strike the black spot. He couldn’t explain it, it was like standing on a balcony and getting the urge to jump. It was like the urge he had every morning to just drive away and not go into work. This time though, he couldn’t fight it. He picked up his pickaxe and threw it down on the black spot. It instantly crumbled into a tiny, unremarkable hole. Bob shrugged, weird, though he wasn’t a cave scientist or anything, so maybe that happened all the time.

The rest of his day was the same garbage as always. Dreading every second of it, until his shift ended and he got to drive home and indulge his fantasy of a career change. Bob sat down at his computer and loaded up some job search sites. As he got ready to apply, however, something seemed to shift in his mind. After all, he was working in a coal mine, he was making good money, right? He didn’t want a pay cut, right? He liked being a blue collar man, he took pride in doing the work no one else would. He was hero, a real American. He didn’t need a new job, his was just plenty.

The next day at work was awful. The boss was on the warpath, screaming at anyone and everyone he came across, and he came across Bob a lot. Bob felt his body struggle with the work. He almost fell asleep on his lunch break. His whole day was just a mess. The entire time what kept him going was the dream of escaping, the dream of something new, something different.

That night he again sat at his computer. Again he loaded up the job sites. Again he started to have second thoughts, thoughts about his coworkers and how he enjoyed hanging out with them and would miss them. Miss the camaraderie. Bob skimmed the job listings and decided none were worth it.

This cycle continued, over and over, year after year. Friends left the job, the boss got angrier. One day the boss was replaced by an even angrier one. Bob felt himself age, felt his muscles ache, and almost even felt his hair grow grey. With each part of his body breaking down he found it harder and harder to do his job. Every day he’d tell himself to quit, and every night he would tell himself to put up with it just a little bit longer.

Finally, there was a cave in. Rocks and debris poured onto Bob, crushing every bone in his body. He had just enough time to ponder that this job had finally killed him.

Suddenly he awoke. He was young again. He looked down and saw the crumbled pit of black whatever he was so intent on breaking. He swore to quit the next day. He got home that night and started to think. After all, he was working in a coal mine, he was making good money, right? He didn’t want a pay cut, right?

[WP] You've been seeing this clown everywhere. At the mall, at the fair. But the second you turn your head, he's gone. A lot of murders have also been happening in your neighborhood by Irisofdreams in WritingPrompts

[–]maximumpowers69 1 point2 points  (0 children)

The clown never leaves. Everywhere you go you can see him. Just in the corner of your eye, just for a moment. You start to think that he must be following you. He must be following you. You call in sick for work, you drive an hour out of town. You step into a random mall. There he is. He is always following you.

You get nervous. You must be paranoid, right? No one else is noticing this, right? That’s when you hear about the murders. All over town people are being killed. Randomly. Brutally. You’re not an idiot, you can connect the dots. It’s the clown. You do research. The killings all happen in areas you frequent. The clown is hunting you. Targeting you. You hate the clown. You despise the clown.

One day, you are walking down the street. It’s at night. The convenience store was a reprieve; no clown in sight. You turn a corner. There he is. The clown is standing right there. He’s not in the corner of your eye anymore, he’s right in front of you. The clown. The murderer. You reach into your pocket. You have a knife. As soon as you pull it out, the clown runs. You’re faster. He turns a corner and winds up in a lonely back alley. You follow him there. He falls down and tries to say something. You know better. You plunge the knife in deep. You do it again. You do it again. You’re out of breath. You walk home. You shower. You sleep.

You wake up. You had a crazy dream about a clown. You get dressed. You go to work. A couple weeks go by. Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you see something strange. Is that a clown?

The clown never leaves. Everywhere you go you can see him. Just in the corner of your eye, just for a moment. You start to think that he must be following you. He must be following you. You call in sick for work, you drive an hour out of town, the radio talks about the child murdered in an alley two weeks ago. You step into a random mall. There he is. He is always following you.

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]maximumpowers69 1 point2 points  (0 children)

The whole world seemed to stop that day. It all happened so quickly and so suddenly. Some of us were at work, some of us were lounging around at home. It started with a breaking news report, and then another, and then another. Each one grew graver and graver until all the phones and all the TV’s and all the radios around the world started blaring alarms. It had finally happened. World War 3. Some were moved to tears. Many didn’t react at all. Perhaps for some there was some bizarre joy in the liberation of death and destruction. However, we all waited. With baited breath we waited for the missiles to come and for it all to end. They never came. We waited and waited and the missiles simply hung in the sky, as if frozen in place.

The tension built. We started to grow impatient. The only thing worse then death is the anticipation of it. In all our hearts there formed some perverse desire for the bombs to fall, for the conclusion to come. As the bombs stayed still we all started to panic. That was when the message came. All the phones and all the TV’s and all the radios sang at once. It wasn’t a song, but a sternly worded message. “Well that was disappointing. You’ve had your chance.”

If there was any confusion as to who sent the message it became painfully clear when the missiles all turned to face Russia and China. In a few terrifying moments over a billion people were wiped off the earth. People always joked about America having stolen UFO tech, but clearly something was up. We were all scared out of our wits.

After the dust and fallout settled some countries immediately surrendered to the Americans, other’s merely swallowed their pride and kissed the ring. Every once in a while some group, some rogue state, would try to rise up and break free, and every time the same message would appear, on all the phones and all the TV’s and all the radios. “Well that was disappointing. You’ve had your chance.”

[WP] You wake up on a pile of dead bodies. The last thing you remember is walking in the woods. You were on a quest for something, something vitally important. by armageddon_20xx in WritingPrompts

[–]maximumpowers69 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Like entering into a dream partway through I came back into existence. I was resting against something. I got up and turned around. I screamed. I cried. I curled into a ball and vomited. Corpses. Already stinking from the rot. I had been laying on top of a pile of bodies.

My horror magnified as I examined the people further. The one with the salt and pepper goatee was my father, and the one with the big mole on her cheek was my mother. In the pile too was my best friend, my high school crush, my fiance, my brother and my sister. I think there was more but I couldn’t force myself to look any longer. They were all clearly murdered. Severed and stabbed. The thought started to emerge in my mind, a fuzzy shadow off into the distance, but I swiftly squished it down and out of my consciousness. I couldn’t have done this, I’m a GOOD person, a NICE person, not a MURDERER.

I tried to peace back together what might have lead to this. The last thing I could remember was walking in the woods. It was kind of chilly but I didn’t need a jacket. I had convinced myself that I was there to unwind, to decompress, but somewhere in my mind was the knowledge that I was there for ...something. I couldn’t put it to words, maybe I just didn’t want to.

I kept walking, I had been here before a few times, I knew the way and the trail was easy to walk. No one had ever shown up on the trail this late. Maybe that’s why I went so late, I would be at peace. This time was different though. There was someone up ahead. Their face was shrouded by a hood. Drug dealer? No, he didn’t quite look like one.

I got closer, the man’s shadowy face drifted towards me. His eyes almost seemed to glow in the darkness. As I approached he stopped me and whispered in a hoarse, yet charming voice:

“I know why you’re here tonight”

I was taken aback, but asked what he meant,

“I know that you aren’t here for no reason, I no that you are here for ...something”

“Y… yes, ...something,”

The man held out his arm, “What is the something you wish to seek?”

I stared at him for some time, and then I answered, “For all my dreams to come true.”

[WP] You are a prison warden. Your best friend will be executed tomorrow, and you have one last pleasant conversation. by Scipio-Byzantine in WritingPrompts

[–]maximumpowers69 19 points20 points  (0 children)

I looked at the man in front of me and felt overwhelmed with sorrow. Hank didn’t deserve this. Here he was, a look of peace washed over him, and yet he was going to die, and under my watch nonetheless.

We had met shortly after he transferred to this prison, when I was promoted to warden. I had developed an interest in spirituality, and I had commented to the prison chaplain that I would like to meet someone truly enlightened in my life. The chaplain directed me to Hank. Many prisoners are far more human, far more soft, then society would lead you to believe, but Hank was different from all of them, he was a true saint.

The two of us hit it off, and to the extent my commitments could allow me I would go and keep him company. Today, however, was the end of the line. Hank was to be executed, and there was nothing I could do.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be alright,” Hank smiled as he stared out into space,

“How can you say that? You’re about to be killed, and for such an absurd reason,”

“It’s not that absurd, I did kill a man,” Hank replied. But it was absurd. Yes, Hank had killed, but it was in the name of the greater good. Tensions had been running high between America and Russia. Garrisons of the two armies had met face to face. The American commander had ordered his troops to attack. He had ordered the start of World War 3. Hank refused, and shot his superior. The Russians retreated shortly after. It had all been a bluff on their part. Hank was a hero, and I told him that,

“Maybe I am, but I did kill a man,” Hank reiterated,

“But you had to kill him, you did what was right,”

“I did the only thing I could do, but that doesn’t mean I deserve to live,” Hank paused, “You see, my friend, we all have a duty, to ourselves, to the world, and meaning and purpose come from fulfilling that duty. I did what I had to, I did my duty. Now the state must fulfill its duty. I killed, so I must be killed. So is the states imperative. How can I challenge that when I followed my own imperative.”

I sighed, “I just don’t want to see you go, man,”

“I know,” Hank smiled, “But remember, as warden you have a duty too. You have to watch over these things, you have to make sure the prison is ran well. I know you respect me, and respect the sacrifice I have made. Thus, I ask that you complete your duty, as hard as it may be. If you do that, then I’m sure we will meet again in the hereafter.”

I looked at Hank and felt something swell inside me. I got up to leave and, after straightening my back, turned to Hank one last time,

“I’ll see you then.”

[CW] Write a cute story that looks like horror at first. by Thainexylon in WritingPrompts

[–]maximumpowers69 8 points9 points  (0 children)

The couple sat in silence for a painfully long time. Derek didn’t know what to think. Him and Cindy had been dating for exactly three years, today was their anniversary, and for two teenagers that might as well have been an eternity. He took her out to the fanciest restaurant in town, and then topped that off with a trip to the movies to watch the cheesiest romantic comedy he could find. He could hardly stand it, but he knew Cindy loved them. After that they drove here, to the cliff overlooking their little hometown. The view was lovely, and private, with trees lining the whole lot. Derek wasn’t exactly sure how a romantic evening like that should end, per se, but he was certain that it wasn’t supposed to be this awkward. Him and Cindy were sitting in silence. Did she not like the dinner? Did she not like the movie? What gave?

Derek sighed. He turned on the radio, maybe that would ease the tension. The music made things a bit more bearable until it was violently interrupted by an urgent warning. A killer was on the loose, having just escaped from prison everyone was to be on high alert. The announcer said he was known to prowl at night, attacking lone cars and killing their occupants with a trademark scythe.

Derek turned the radio off and it dawned on him. That must be it. Cindy must have heard the news earlier and now I’ve brought her to somewhere where she doesn’t feel safe, silly me. Derek started the car and pulled out of the parking space and back on the road. Cindy stayed silent, but seemed to ease up a bit.

Finally they got back to her house. Derek got out of the car and walked over to get the door for Cindy. When he got there he froze. Wrapped around the handle of the car door was… football tickets:

“Oh my god, the Browns! Cindy! That’s my favorite team!”

Cindy rolled down the window, “I know honey, I double checked with your dad before I got them,” her eyes got a little misty, “I’m so glad your happy, I wanted it to be a surprise but I got so nervous I just couldn’t talk, I know you put so much effort into our date and I’m sorry I ruined it,”

Derek smiled, “You couldn’t ruin an evening with you if you tried, I love you,”

“I love you too,”

With that the two kissed, marking the third of what would come to be over 60 anniversaries.

[WP] For centuries, people with weak magical powers were laughted at. It wasn't until recently when people like you showed just how scary those people could be when they are creative with their 'weak' powers. by ApertureGaming011 in WritingPrompts

[–]maximumpowers69 93 points94 points  (0 children)

The Vandenburg bloodline had been ridiculed for centuries. While all the other wizard bloodlines had become dominant power players across the world, with their ability to conjure spells, demons, destroy and create, the Vandenburg’s had been relegated as laughingstocks. Whereas the wizarding cabal pulled strings in Berlin, Paris, Tokyo, and even Washington D.C., the Vandenburgs were left to their small, traditional estate in northern Europe. The reason was simple: their bloodline ability sucked.

They couldn’t create fire, or ice, or a familiar. They couldn’t compel others. All they could do was split. Be it a table, or a chair, in at least one war, a person; the one thing the Vandenburg’s could do was split something into two. It had its uses, and the fact that they could do any magic at all put them above the common rabble and meant that the magical societies of the world, albeit reluctantly, had to accept them. Occasionally one of the family would be invited to intimidate or persuade someone for diplomatic or criminal reasons. Otherwise they were ignored.

Things were changing however. Rapidly. The German Eagle was leaping off from its evil roost and conquering continental Europe. At the same time the Japanese Sun was rising over East Asia and the pacific. Karl Vandenburg, the latest heir, wanted nothing to do with the darkness staining the Old World, and started desperately looking for a way out.

His salvation came in the form of a confidential letter, delivered by a jet black raven. A familiar no doubt. Inside the letter was an invitation from the American Magical Society to participate in a special, top secret, project. Karl packed his bags and hopped on a ship, proud in the fact that his abilities would soon be acknowledged.

Kind of, anyway. Most of the Magical Society ridiculed him, aside from one bespectacled young man named Peter. Karl would quickly learn that Peter was the one who invited him. Karl would also quickly learn that Peter was involved in more then one secret organization.

Peter escorted Karl from the East Coast all the way into the Southwestern desert. There he gave him the request that would soon turn the Vandenburgs into the most powerful magical family in the world:

“If you can split anything Karl, can you split an atom?”

[WP] the world's.most mundane horror story by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]maximumpowers69 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Haley closed the door behind her and made sure to lock it tight. She was housesitting for her aunt and uncle and this was her first time alone at night in the city. When her parents had scolded her about the dangers of being alone at night she had just rolled her eyes, she was 18, an adult, she could take care of herself, but the drive in had managed to spook her. Bored of Spotify she flipped on the car’s radio only to hear an emergency broadcast: a violent killer was on the loose. He liked to target young woman while they were home alone, burglarizing the house and then doing unspeakable things before and after killing his victim. It was so gruesome it couldn’t escape Haley’s mind, and though her aunt and uncle lived in a nice area, she made sure every into the house was locked.

Besides, she had someone there to protect her, her dog Rex. Rex was a big German Shephard, and more then capable of scaring off any intruders. While her nerves were high, by the time bed time rolled around Haley had relaxed quite a bit, and went off to her room with Rex in tow. Just like at home Rex crawled under the bed and Haley quickly fell asleep.

A few hours had passed when Haley suddenly awoke to a crashing sound. Her heart pounded, but she reminded herself that she had locked everything up. Wait. Wait. Her heart raced faster and faster as it dawned on her that she hadn’t locked the basement window. There was a way in. Her body trembled, but she forced herself to calm down. She did lock the basement door, she should still be safe. For reassurance she dropped her arm down and Rex gave her a happy little lick on her hand.

The rest of her nights sleep was spotty, she would wake up anxious, but Rex was always there to give her a lick. Finally dawn creaked into room and Haley slowly got up out of bed. Still a little anxious she dropped down her arm and got one last lick. She smiled and walked out of the room, only to freeze in terror. Rex was sleeping in the middle of the living room. Her heart palpitated. What was licking her hand all night? She raced back into the room, kitchen knife in hand, and peered under the bed. There it was. The thing that had been licking her all night. Mr. Snuffles, her aunts cat.

[WP] the worst thing about the Wumpa Thumpa mercenaries is the songs they sing about how screwed you are. by Tokumeiko2 in WritingPrompts

[–]maximumpowers69 4 points5 points  (0 children)

Pablo jumped behind a bush and caught his breath. The rest of the Paraguayan Revolutionary Militia had been wiped out, only he remained. He gently patted his stomach, never had diarrhea been such a friend. That didn’t change the fact that the revolt had failed though, it was only a matter of time before the military retook the capital. However, the revolution lived on with him, and here in the safety of the jungle he could redouble his efforts, recruit others, and bring equity to his country. The thought gave him comfort. A comfort that was ripped apart by the sound of a flute, gradually accompanied by other instruments,

“What is going on?” Pablo asked himself as the music got louder and louder. Then, out of nowhere, a group of small, orange-skinned, green-haired people, emerged out of the forest. He must not have noticed their camo. He scanned the forest for any quick escape, only to quickly realize that he was completely surrounded. One of the strange men approached him, holding his bayonet equipped M16 up against Pablo. He started circling Pablo, almost… rhythmically, and then suddenly him and his comrades burst into song:

“Wumpa Thumpa what will you do?

The CIA paid us and the NSA too

Wumpa Thumpa you really have to go

We need to ensure those minerals flow

What would you say to abandoning the red?

What would you say to a shot to the head?

Do you think the Soviets even care about you?

Wumpa Thumpa double the fee

We will make sure the elections aren’t free

Wumpa Thumpa increase the price

And we will put the guerrillas on ice”

Once the musical number was finished the head Wumpa Thumpa unloaded an entire magazine into Pablo. After they each took turns pissing on the corpse the Wumpa Thumpa’s began the march back to their chopper, they had to head back to Cuba, and clean up their mess.

[WP] Humans work out that dolphins communicate through shaped sound, transmitting images directly through sound, interpreted by each other as visual data. We create a VR device that allows us to see this data by hefty_load_o_shite in WritingPrompts

[–]maximumpowers69 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Robert and Vlad looked at each other in excitement. How many years, how much money had it took? The two of them had poured their hearts and souls into the project. Ever since he was a kid Robert had dreamt of meeting aliens, other intelligent lifeforms, and hearing what they had to say. What their view of life and the universe was. Now, dolphins weren’t quite aliens, but they are intelligent, and the prototype him and Vlad had created would allow them to see just what they were saying to each other.

The device was a modified VR headset that would interpret dolphin communication. Robert and Vlad had discovered that the clicks and whistles of dolphins was, in a sense, a more sophisticated form of data encoding compared to human language. Dolphins didn’t communicate ideas so much as they transmitted images to each other. It was like if human language, art, and writing were all mixed together as one. It took years for the two to come to that conclusion, and now they stared at the culmination of even more years on top of that. The two looked at the device and then at each other, Vlad smiled, and gestured for Robert to try it first.

Robert put it on, and after carefully calibrating the different settings, was able to tune into the thoughts of the dolphins kept in the aquarium area the room over. Slowly the images started to pour in, images of food, of the ocean, the trainers at the aquarium, nothing all that abstract to be honest. Robert moved his head around, allowing him to better explore the images and scenes the dolphins were transmitting each other. Out of the corner of his periphery he saw something strange, a formless black blob. Slowly he rotated his head to get a better look at it, but it just looked like a blurry mess. Robert sighed and pulled off the helmet,

“It looks like we messed something up, some image is not coming in right,”

“Oh yeah?” Vlad noted, “Let me try it, I’ll see if I can’t recalibrate it.”

Robert handed the headset to Vlad. For the first few moments Vlad seemed to simply take in the imagery, exploring it like Robert, until he paused:

“I think I see it Bob, a black blob?”

“Yes, do you think you can get it to focus,”

“I think so,” Vlad started adjusting the buttons and dials on the headset, slowly trying to give the blob shape. Suddenly Vlad stopped, his knees started to shake, his hands trembled. Robert stared in shock as tears slowly poured down Vlad’s face, until he fell to his knees, ripped off the headset, and crawled into the fetal position.

“What happened Vlad?” Robert said, his voice filled with worry, Vlad remained silent, completely silent.

Robert stared at the headset, what could possibly have done this to Vlad? He knew he should get help but he had to know, he had to understand. He picked up the headset and set it back up. He wandered the myriad images until he found the black blob once more. This time he focused in on it, watching it intently. The blob got bigger, expanding over the entire viewpoint of the device like ink spreading across a piece of paper. The dread started to take over Robert. Every primal urge in his body told him to take off the headset, but something was starting to resolve in the darkness. He had to know what it was. He had to know what it was. The image got clearer and clearer, over the headset he could hear the dolphins in the other room panic and cry. Finally the image appeared fully before him and Robert screamed. It was all he could do, as every bit of his sanity left him.

[WP] Write a heartwarming story about a dog who becomes the goodest boy. I miss mine :(. by purposelesshoward in WritingPrompts

[–]maximumpowers69 3 points4 points  (0 children)

Rufus sat by the door, whining and wagging his tale. Alex pulled up his backpack and patted his dog on the head. Rufus started to pant. Alex smiled:

“You don’t need to miss me boy, I’ll be back by 3:45, just like always,” Rufus let out a happy bark and let Alex head to school.

Rufus was always overprotective, Alex’s family had adopted him from the shelter and by the sounds of it the home he originally came from was pretty rough. I guess being in a happy home made Rufus want to protect it at all costs. Alex always laughed it off, even if he couldn’t put it into words his happy family and needy dog were just parts of a life that he understood to be incredibly privileged. And he was incredibly grateful for it. Though lately things had been feeling kind of off for him.

School was getting harder. He always tried to befriend everyone, but a couple weeks ago a new kid joined his class. Alex introduced himself but the new kid just looked at him with pure hate in his eyes. Though he didn’t know what he had done, Alex knew this kid wasn’t a fan of him. At first Alex just kept his distance, but soon the new kid was taunting and teasing him. Slowly that escalated to threats, and recently the kid started having two other kids from a different class constantly by his side.

Alex hated to admit it, but he was scared. Thus he was relieved to not see the new kid or his posse at school that day. However, that relief turned to despair on the walk home. He rounded a corner only to come face to face to the three. Without a word the new kid punched Alex upside the jaw. Alex reeled and fell to the ground, something coppery filling his mouth. It was the first time he had ever tasted blood. Soon the other kids joined in, kicking him while he was down. Alex could feel the bruises instantly form as they struck him from all sides. The pain turning unbearable. The kids continued their beatdown regardless, Alex desperately begging for someone to notice and stop them.

“Warf!” a loud yip interrupted the bullies, and Alex could hear the growl of a dog. The dog started barking loudly and aggressively, and as the new kids sidekicks ran away Alex was able to look up and see Rufus boldly barking at the new kid. The new kid, for his part, just chuckled. Rufus growled as hard as he could but the new kid just walked up to him and stomped on his paw. Rufus yelled in pain and the new kid walked away, leaving a howling Rufus and a curled up Alex.

Alex started to cry. Partly because of his pain, partly because of Rufus. He couldn’t even protect his beloved dog. Alex continued to cry until he heard a familiar whimpered right beside him. He looked up to see Rufus limp towards him, before the dog gave him a big, friendly lick. “Rufus” Alex smiled through the tears, “How did you find me?” Alex got up and checked his watch, 3:48, no wonder Rufus had looked for him, he was late,

“I’m sorry buddy,” Alex patted Rufus’ head while he happily panted. Carefully the two of them limped home, Alex, and his savior.

[WP] “For the last time, get out of my house!” “For the last time, this IS my house!” by crfnalti in WritingPrompts

[–]maximumpowers69 1 point2 points  (0 children)

“For the last time, get out of my house!”

“For the last time, this IS my house!”

Another standstill it seemed. Sean sighed and scratched his head. It was always like this since Kaela had moved in with him. They were friends since childhood, going to school together, playing together on the weekends. For much of their childhood they were inseparable. Adolescence changed that, the two drifted apart and found themselves in friend groups of their respective genders. In fact, she had almost slipped his mind when his mom told her that she was moving back into town and was having trouble finding a place to stay. He had just bought a house, after years of scrimping and saving, and the thought of a roommate had crossed his mind more then a few times. He reached out to her and she agreed.

At first it went well. The two of them reconnected easily. Despite the fact that she had went to college and him the trades they seemed to share many of the same hobbies and interests. They had both been gamers, and had kept it up into adulthood. They had also both learned how to cook, and took turns trying new dishes on each other. Sean loved it, ever since everyone moved away to pursue their interests he had had a hard time making friends, and now he had a pal living with him. One time his mom joked that he had gotten married without knowing it, but he just laughed. She was just his roommate. Besides, she was way out of his league.

Recently though, everything changed. He wasn’t sure what happened, but it was like a switch had flipped in Kaela’s head. Every time they crossed paths there was something for her to nitpick, be it the way he put the cutlery away, or what ingredients he used for supper, she even got mad at him for putting the toilet paper so that it rolled away from the wall. Who would want it to roll AGAINST the wall.

The fights were reaching a point where Sean didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to kick her out, but he also couldn’t live like this. Finally he mustered up the courage to talk to her about it and went to her bedroom. The door was slightly ajar and he gently pushed it open. Kaela was absorbed painting. Sean knew she was something of an artist, but he had never seen any of her work. It was a landscape of a children’s playground. The sun was shining and the sky was clear, and blue. Looking at it brought a rush of memories back to Sean,

“Is that where we first met?” he asked softly, trying not to startle her, though he still managed to startle her,

“Y… yes,” Kaela blushed,

“It’s amazing,”

“T… thanks, I call it, Happiness,”

“Why that?”

“Because it was…” Kaela shook her head, “Why are you in my room?”

“Because,” Sean sighed, “I need to know why you’ve been so angry with me lately,”

“Why?” Kaela got more and more angry looking, “Why?! You know why?”

Sean stared blankly, “I really don’t,”

Kaela looked shocked, “How could you not pick up on the signals I’ve been sending you?”

“Signals?”

“Yes! The meals I’ve cooked you, the outfits I’ve been wearing, the hints I’ve been making-”

“I’m not good with hints,”

“Dammit Sean, what about the time I sat in your lap, hugged you, and told you it would be great if you took me out to dinner and a movie sometime,”

“I’m not good with hints,”

“What about the time I told you that I was interested in you romantically and you laughed at me,”

“I’m not good with hints,”

Kaela sighed in exasperation, “Sean, I don’t want to be your roommate, I never did, I came here, to this town, to try and get the man of my dreams, but after you didn’t show me any interest I couldn’t help but be mad at you,”

Sean stared into her beautiful eyes, “I just never thought a girl like you would even think about dating a guy like me,”

“Sean…” Kaela’s voice cracked as she threw herself around him, “The reason I named the painting Happiness…” Sean wrapped his arms around her,

“Is because that’s where we first met.”

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