BRACE FOR IMPACT

 

 "BRACE FOR IMPACT!!! BRACE FOR IMPAAAAAAAAAA................AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! 

I can't feel my legs...

 I CAN'T FEEL MY LEGS! HELP ME! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

 

Gloria reaches across the bed and shakes him hard. "Wake up, Tony! Wake up! It's just a dream! WAKE UP, TONY!"

Tony gasps, shudders, shakes himself, pulls his legs up to his chest. Sits up sobbing.

Gloria wraps her arms around him, cooing and calming.

"Tell me what happened, Tony. Was it the same as the other times?"

"Always the same, Always. Always. I fall off the platform and the subway train smashes into me and I fall under it. I'm not trying to jump - it's as if something pushes me but there's nobody standing near me. I always make sure to stay away from other people when waiting for the train." 

"Do you want me to get you some warm milk?"

"No, thanks. I'd probably just puke it up." Yawns... sniffles. 

"Why do you think you keep having this dream, sweetheart?" 

"I don't know. I have it every time I've seen this one guy for a reading, even though the cards never say that he's suicidal or that an accident will happen to him. Nothing indicates a Tower moment for him. I always check where Uranus is transiting his Natal chart but it's not in a position that would indicate sudden accidents. I don't get it."

"How long has this been going on?"

"He comes once a month. This is the 3rd time I've had this nightmare after seeing him the day before. I have an awful feeling that it's fated for him but he has every reason to want to live. He's met someone that he wants to spend more time with. He has a couple of kids that he adores. He gets along with his ex. His job is going well and he's up for a promotion. It makes no sense." 

"Maybe this will happen in the future?"

"Maybe, but why am I haunted by it?"

"Maybe you're supposed to warn him to avoid subway stations?"

"For how long - the rest of his life? That's not practical." 

"Do you think you can get back to sleep now, honey? It's almost 5."

"Gloria. I'm so glad that I have you near me when I get this dream. The rest of the time, your snoring drives me crazy!"

They both chuckle.

"I can see that you're more relaxed now, so let's get some rest."

"There's one thing that eases my mind - he said he'll be going to Bangkok next week for business so he should be safe there. Good night, sweetheart."

Two weeks later...

"Gloria! You know the guy who made me have those horrible subway nightmares? He's dead! His girlfriend just called me. She was with him when it happened. In Bangkok. They were in the MRT. A train was entering the station. Suddenly a ghost appeared next to Will and shoved him in front of the incoming train and then VANISHED! Disappeared! When she looked for Will, he was under the train screaming that he couldn't feel his legs. IT WAS MY DREAM ALL OVER AGAIN! It happened! I failed him. I should have warned him. I never thought he would take the subway in Thailand! Never!"

"Honey, cancel your appointments for the rest of the day. I'll meet you at home. You need some time to process this, Tony. Please. Let's go home. " 

"Not yet, Gloria. I have to think about this. I didn't check for accidents during his holiday because I thought he'd be safe half a world away. I should have checked the subway signs in that dream. I would have known then. I failed that man. I can't rest until I find out what triggered this. I need to know what symbolizes a ghost in the Tarot and in the Astrology. Right now, I don't have a clue." 

"Who pushed him, though - ghost... or girlfriend stoned out of her mind? Lots of drugs in Bangkok. That's how Willy died - OD in hotel room. When researching signs and omens, check into that."

"Thank you, Gloria. That's an avenue to explore. I'll check some charts and books as soon as I get home. I'll do a Relocation chart. Order a pizza, will ya? With pineapple. I'll be up late tonight doing research." 

 

 ©Ellen Pepper 2025

 

 The Stink of Betrayal

by Ellen Pepper 

 

Maria's fingers hover over the keyboard; writing a reply to the man who betrayed her and now, after months of silence, has decided that he had made a mistake and wants back into her life.

 Joshua,

What do you want from me? What kind of situation/relationship/friendship do you intend to have with me?

The reason I ask is that I want to be with a man who is quite content to be with me alone - a man who doesn't swan off and entertain other women for shits and giggles.
I am a loyal, faithful person who does not carry on with more than one man at a time. I focus on my partner. That's what I deserve in return. That's all I will tolerate from now on.

If all you want from me is friendship, fine. Describe what friendship looks like to you so I know where I'd stand. I may not decide that your concept of friendship matches mine.
I don't want any more surprises. 

What I want is a man who won't lie to me. Won't be mendacious. Won't lie by omission. 

I should have protected myself. I shouldn't have trusted you to be the man you presented yourself to be. I thought you were real but you weren't, were you? You put on a good show. Problem is, you put on that same show for others. It was your courtship dance. I see that now. Very charming but, ultimately, as inauthentic as a creosote tan.

And now, in thinking it over...perhaps it would be wiser to just let this go. I will never be able to replicate the same trust that I had before my eyes were opened to your disloyalty and deception.

 I was told the truth by someone who had first-hand knowledge of what you did. The truth always comes out and, when it does, it stinks of betrayal.

 After reading it over, Maria clicks Send and watches it vanish into the ether. She does not expect a reply. 

 ©Ellen Pepper 2025

Liar's Lair

 

LIAR'S LAIR

by Ellen Pepper

 

Liam opens the email when he sees who the sender was.

"She told me everything. You lied."

Liam sits back in his ergonomic chair and inhales deeply.  

"I know about the relentless flirting. The joking. The affection. How you were falling in love with each other. I know everything."

Liam shudders, but reads on...

"While you told me that she meant nothing to you, you were telling her the opposite. She believed you. I believe her." 

Liam's hand shakes as he pulls the coffee cup to his lips. 

"I trusted you to be truthful. I was wrong to trust you. My gut was telling me that something was going on between the two of you. I asked you questions. You lied. It was easy for you to lie because my feelings didn't matter anymore after you'd found her."

Liam nods in agreement. 

"I'm not impressed. I'm revolted. I thought you had integrity. I was wrong about that, too. You'll be happy to know that I've lost interest in knowing you. It must be a relief to know that you'll never hear from me again. It's my parting gift to you."

Liam smiles, a long, slow grin.

"I've spoken to your brother about you and your atrocious behaviour. He was also unimpressed and apologized on behalf of your family."

For the first time, Liam stiffens his posture and sits upright. His jaw tenses. His brother is someone he idolizes. If he has lost respect for Liam, there may be no going back.  He grimaces.

"I've found someone new since you ghosted me. He's much better for my peace of mind than you ever were. He's more talented. Kinder. He's not someone that causes others to feel that they're walking on eggshells lest they set off his temper when they disagree with him. "

Liam thinks he knows who she is talking about. He clenches his fist. He doesn't want her but he doesn't want anyone else to have her, especially that man.  

"Oh, and the other woman that you used in order to have a reason to jettison me? Yeah, she's still suicidal after you ghosted her, too. She still asks daily, "Why did he desert me? Everything was fine the day before - we were laughing and flirting and carrying on having a fine friendship and then he vanished without a word! WHY? WHY? WHY? If I only knew why, I could make peace with it. He must have a good excuse. maybe he's had a relapse of his substance abuse? Maybe he had a mental breakdown? Why can't he just tell me?"

"This is what you've done to her. She's a good and decent person.  You, on the other hand, have shown yourself to be very cruel - lacking a conscience, seeing how much harm you've done. Karma is not on your side in this matter. "

Liam snarls at the monitor and swears under his breath.

"The only way for you to atone is to come clean with her. Apologize to her. There's no point in apologizing to me because I really don't give a shit anymore. You aren't the man I thought you were at all. I'm repulsed by your conduct. From now on, everything between us will be toxic. Your actions have poisoned any future contact."

Liam sits very still for a few potent moments.

Then he shouts in rage, banging his balled fist on his desk and wails, "Nobody has ever fucking understood me!"

 

 ©Ellen Pepper 2025

OBSESSION

 "She's going to break your heart. Take my word for it. Then, when she's done with you, she'll break your spirit."

"No, Esme, I've loved her from the first time I saw her. She's perfect for me."

"Listen to me, Jimmy. I'm your older sister and I've seen a lot more of life than you have. I can tell what kind of person she is by what's she's doing. As soon as her cohort from Harrow Secondary was shipped over to our school after hers was shut down, the first thing she did was join the Cheerleader Squad. Not the Book Club. Not the Science Club.  Do you know why?"

 "Because she's beautiful?"

"Because she's superficial. She's hungry for popularity. I bet her plan is to marry a football player straight out of high school and spend the rest of her life making and raising babies. You, on the other hand, have a functional brain - you want to be a scientist, or writer or medic of some sort. You're going to spend the next ten years going to school. You won't be able to afford a growing family. You won't have the time because you'll be studying. She'll never understand the life of the mind because she doesn't have one."

"But, I love her, Esme. I can't get her out of my mind."

"Face it, Jimmy. You want to fuck her. At your age, that's pretty well your default ambition."

"No, I love her. And she'll love me, too. You'll see!"

And that's when Jimmy began his project to somehow get the girl of his dreams to fall in love with him. Her name was Honey McIntyre. Her hair was thick and blonde. Her eyes pale blue. Peaches and cream complexion. Medium height and weight. Always dressed in the latest fashion. Her father owned a construction company. They lived in the best part of town. 

Jimmy's family, on the other hand, was struggling financially. His father was intermittently unemployed due to a personality disorder. Also, he was a drunk. His mother ran an unsuccessful clothing shop. Jimmy knew that the only way for him to get ahead in life was to become a professional something or other, which meant he had to find a way to attend an institution of higher learning that provided scholarships and other benefits.

Meanwhile, not only could he not focus on studying, but his mind would not shift away from thoughts of Honey. When he dreamed, Honey was there. When he woke up, he saw Honey in his mind. When he showered, he couldn't resist the urge to... He thought of her all the time - even while writing exams.

One day, he "accidentally" bumped into her in the hall between classes. The scent of her hair connected immediately with his groin. Feeling awkward, instead of saying that he was sorry, he blurted out, "Honey, I love you!"

Honey was about to say that the bump was no big deal but was unable to speak for a moment.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" She asked as she looked him up and down with aversion. She could see instantly that he was not her type of person.

"No, sorry. No, you don't. You don't know me. Sorry." Jimmy stumbled off to the boy's restroom and wept quietly in a stall.  

 Jimmy started leaving little notes and gifts taped to her locker without signing them. Honey was thrilled at first because she thought that her secret admirer might be on the football squad.

Then Jimmy started watching Honey's home from the park across the street. One night, she looked out her window and saw him sitting on the bench staring at her. She began to feel anxious. When she noticed that he was there every night that week. she told her father about it and he went to speak with the stalker. Jimmy ran away when he spotted the man approaching him.

Jimmy's scholastic standing began to drop inexorably. He couldn't focus on studying. He spent most of his time daydreaming. Meanwhile, Honey's father had him followed by a private security firm.

Two men from that firm roughed him up the next time he was at the bench in the park. They warned him away from Honey and threatened him with broken limbs and worse if he didn't lay off. 

When Honey started dating a quarterback, Jimmy began to lose his mind. He left notes filled with lies about the guy on her locker. He tried to start a smear campaign so she'd stop dating him. He booby trapped the dude's car door so he'd get a shock when trying to open it. He flattened his tires. He called the golf club where the guy worked part time  and blackened his reputation.

When the cops finally came to arrest him, he claimed that he loved Honey and that they would be married soon. Honey was brought in for questioning with her father and she verified that he'd been stalking and frightening her and that they weren't even friends, let alone engaged. 

 At the trial, Honey mostly told the truth but her fear that he'd be released caused her to embellish and several lies were told. Those lies had to do with Jimmy threatening to kidnap and rape her. She was believed because...she was Honey and rich and beautiful and the quintessential stalking victim.

The judge tried to be impartial but Honey seemed to need protection - a fragile flower of femininity. Her father was the judge's best golfing buddy, so Jimmy spent the next 10 years not in school preparing to become a professional something or other, but instead was in prison. When he came out, no school would have him. Moral turpitude being the reason given.

 Esme knew that it would come to this. And so it did. What she didn't know all those years before was that Honey would be involved in a car accident on the way to a party in senior year. Four girls in a Honda Civic rear-ended a transport truck. Two were decapitated. Honey, in the back seat, both legs broken, skull fractured. She lived, but not well. Paralyzed from the waist down, she gained so much weight that she had to have a custom-built wheelchair. She never walked again. She never married. She died in her 40s of an opiate overdose.

Jimmy eventually became a best-selling author and several of his novels were made into Hollywood movies. He married 3 times and fathered 5 children. His first book was titled "Obsession".

 ©Ellen Pepper 2025

An Ending

 

An Ending

Look down the winding road,
until no more road can be seen.
Is there a singular man ambling along 
with a knapsack on his back;
wearing ancient hobnailed boots?

The man is looking for a way to end.
He waited patiently for Death to take him, but...
Time went on, years went by and
he yet lives.

In all of his time,
he was rowdy, and wild, and unfettered and 
alive.
Bowing down to no one.
Living in this moment,
or that.

He lived without attachment -
no family, no lovers, no wife, no friends.
He was content with that lack.
Nothing disturbed his equanimity.

Well, nothing, other than
the fact that he didn't die.
No matter how recklessly he tore through life.
Nothing would kill him.

When he began to tire of Life,
as one does without commitments,
he beckoned to Death,
indicating his willingness to be taken away.

Death gave him no reply.
You could say that Death ghosted him.

He didn't want to directly suicide,
because he saw that as cheating.
Instead, he ran into traffic. 
It stopped and he was saved.

He jumped off a cliff.
Unfortunately, he was caught in mid-air by a parachutist,
and survived again.
He waded far out to sea hoping to drown.
A friendly dolphin rescued him.

So now, he rambles along this winding road.
He's lost interest in dying.
He knows his time will eventually come.
He will bide until then.

On a Tuesday in May of his 92nd year,
a cyclist will lose control and drive 
into the old man's fragile body
and end his life.

As he awakens on the Other Side, 
he'll sit up and say...
"What took so damn long, anyway?"

"You were given a life sentence - no time off for good behaviour."
...will be the amused reply.

"I behaved badly," he’ll admit.

"Why yes. Oh, yes, you did." The Elders will chuckle mirthfully, and then, “Ishmael, you spent 50 years as a member of a violent biker gang. We are amused by your delicate admission of behaving badly, considering the murders and other crimes against humanity of which you were culpable. Surely you’re familiar with the saying ‘Only the good die young.’ Had you done more good, you’d have had an earlier release.”

Ishmael sighs, “Now you tell me? Now?”

An Elder states, “You were given a conscience. You chose to ignore it.”

©Ellen Pepper 2025

Fireflies

 

Fireflies

Twenty minutes past sunset.
Mid-July.
Cats and kittens sprawled out on the deck.
A hundred million fireflies bursting into sight,
like little bits of magic in the night.

The temperature 86F. 
Humidity 91%.
The sky a dark blue velvet.
Only seen in summer.

Grass still green in the fading light.
A kitten races across the lawn,
trying to catch...

The fireflies. 
Flashing. Fading. Flashing. Fading. Flashing.
The felines watch in fascination.
Enchanted.

A human stands at the window gazing out 
seeing peace, tranquility,
a world without horrors,
no news updates.
Just life being lived by unburdened critters.

This is...bliss.


©Ellen Pepper 2025

SECOND CHANCE SALOON

 

Maître Alchimiste: On the shelf to your left, you'll find a flagon containing fricasseed newt tongues in apricot jelly.
You'll want to mix it with elm sperm after midnight at the New Moon.
 Allow the mixture to coagulate for a fortnight (bringing it to the Full Moon) and then you must heat it to a boil and add a goblet full of the urine of a pregnant horse. Allow it to cool. Add a handful of saffron and cinnamon. Don't skip this step or the taste will gag you.

Isisdora: What on earth are we doing? 

Maître Alchimiste:  Alchemy - combining elements to create new things or, in this particular case, to manifest a desired outcome. 

Isisdora: Must I pepper you with questions or will you simply tell your plans for this...this...stinking goop?

M.A.: This is a recipe that will provide you with LAFS - Love At First Sight - something that all maidens of your natality dream of. 

Isisdora: Piffle! I no longer trust falling in love at first sight. It's killed me more than once. It always ends in buckets of pain and blood.

M.A.: Ah, but it inspires your creativity, does it not, Maîtresse des Arts? Are you saying that you don't want this recipe? 

Isisdora: I do not want this particular recipe, no. What I'd like in its place is a way to increase creativity without having to withstand another failed romance, if you don't mind.

M.A.: Sigh! Very well then - I'll consult the Lacnunga - my book of remedies. I'll make use of the nine sacred  herbs: mugwort, plantain, shepherd’s purse, nettle, bettony, chamomile, crab apple, chervil, fennel. If it doesn't increase your artistic genius, at the very least if will clear up any skin conditions that you may suffer from.
No matter, it will work like a charm because it is a charm. Oh! How I amuse myself.

Isisdora: I must be on my way, Maître. Send me a turtledove to announce when this spell has been completed.

M.A. : Oh no, no, no, no, no, Maîtresse! You must fully participate in this ritual to bring it to fruition. Tomorrow night at dusk, you must present yourself to my charm circle in the forest. Are you familiar with it? It's west of the mere and four steps backward from the bent pine.

Isisdora: What shall I wear for this ritual?

M.A.: Nothing. We will be sky-clad.

Isisdora: Uh, no. I suspect an ulterior motive on your part. I've heard what you get up to with the village maidens in your charm circle. I'm not like the other girls; you should know this by now.

M.A.: Ah ha ha ha! You have me there, don't you? All right, wear a gown of gold.

Isisdora: I'll be all in blue.

M.A.: Am I getting old?

Isisdora: Oh no, not you. 

M.A.: Be off with you, ya lttle scamp - I have spell-casting to do. 

On the morrow, the two meet to greet the dusk and cast the spell. However, the alchemist has shifted the focus of the intention. He plans to cause Isisdora to suffer LAFS for him against her Will. He doesn't realize the power that she holds against the magic of those who have their own benefits in mind while casting spells.

The spell in question:
Take the fragment of the tip of a toenail, add man seed together with blood from a cat… Pound the seed and add mandrake root and put it in a cup of summer wine. Recite the spell seven times over it and have the woman drink it in the fading light of day. Thus, the drinking will cause LAFS with the first man encountered.

After the magic has been completed...but the charmed fluid not yet drunk...

M.A.: There! That was easier than I thought it would be. Here have a little sip of the prepared beverage. You'll be flying high with ideas in no time - trust me!

Isisdora: My father always warned me not to trust anyone who says "trust me" because it means they cannot be trusted. I suspect a ruse on your part. Have a little sip to prove that this is no trick.

M.A.: Oh, I couldn't! This is meant for you, my sweet. Really. I shouldn't. It could be hazardous to a male.

Isisdora: Drink it! Now! Or there will be hell to pay!

M.A.: There are worse things than hell to pay. I didn't prepare a counter spell.

Isisdora: DRINK IT NOW!

M.A.:  Please, no. Please...be merciful.

Isisdora: (raises her arms and inhales deeply).

M.A.: Wait! WAIT! I will do your bidding! (takes a small sip)

Isisdora: MORE! Drink it down! 

M.A.: (weeps as he guzzles it down)

Suddenly, a masked horseman rides into the clearing. Maître Alchimiste falls to his knees as his eyes take on an admiring gaze. He's besotted. He's smitten. He's infatuated with the broken-down Knight of the Second Chance Saloon riding his old gray mare.
Isisdora laughs merrily at his fate.

Isisdora: How long does this spell last, Maître Alchimiste?

M.A.: Not long enough, I'm afraid - I want to love this man forever. He's my Knight in Shining Armoire! 

Isisdora: He's furniture to you? 

M.A.: The finest closet a man can find.

Isisdora: Let this be a lesson to you - never use magic if you intend to take advantage of the petitioner. Now you'll learn the hard way just what having LAFS entails.


©Ellen Pepper 2025


 

A Story for Κάρολος

 

 

"Where have I been all your life?"

Belle: "Why are you speaking to me?"

"I heard you orating before the philosophers. You know more than you let on. Also, you're wearing a fetching gown."

Belle: "This old sheet? It's just a little scrap of cloth I found in the agora at Thessaloniki when I travelled through there. What do you want with me? Who are you?"

Damon: "My name is Κάρολος but you can call me Damon Eudoxus Lysander. Some refer to me as Xenophon because I am recently come from Massalia, in Gaul. I'm Professor of the Humors."

Belle: "And why do you detain me?"

Damon: "I am offering you an invitation to join a forum group that I organize. We're philosophers who spend much of our time discussing the meaning of life and how the living of it can be improved. I’ve heard you speak to the crowd at the agora lately and I found your ideas to be novel and fascinating."

Belle: "Really? A man who heeds a woman's speech? That's unprecedented in the land of my birth. What does a Professor of Humors concern himself with, pray tell?"

Damon: " Ah, now that's a tale that calls for a shared beverage. Shall we rest a while and savor Ellinikós kafés together?"

Belle: "It's a fine idea but I must return to my father's house in time for the evening meal. Perhaps we can meet again on the morrow."

Damon: "As you wish, lady. Say, who are you? I don't know your name."

Belle: "I am called Belle... but I'm known to be a beast because of my fiery temper and easily roused rage. A man scorned me and, for that, my demeanour took a turn for the worst. Men fear my fury...and rightly so. I do not suffer fools gladly."

Damon: "Do you suffer fools at all?"

Belle: "Don't test my patience, there's precious little of it."

Damon (with a grin): "I will attempt to please you, Belle."

-----------------------------------------------------
When next they met, Damon laid out for Belle the theory of the Four Humors initially developed by Hippocrates in which it was proposed that health and temperament must have a balance of the four humors (fluids) in the body: blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm. *

Belle was fascinated and asked Damon to become her mentor.

Damon: "Are you certain that this is a viable choice for you? After all, I am a man and you claim to despise men. Would I be endangered by maintaining propinquity with you?"

Belle: "Are you certain that you want to ride so close to the edge of the roof by teasing me, good sir? Don't you fear my scorching choler if I take offence?"

Damon: "Belle, I sense that you already know that my high regard for you is revealed by my harmless banter. I see no need to give you reason to cause a commotion. Come, let us dine and discuss the humors, now that you are to be my student."

-------------------------------------------------

They met to talk
and talk they did.
He taught her Humor.
Was spared her grit.

Belle learned to laugh
and trust
and learned that some
are not all.

Unlike other suitors,
he listened to her.
Unlike herself,
Belle was kind to him.

To be continued...

©Ellen Pepper 2025

*https://psychologyfor.com/the-theory-of-the-four-humors-by-hippocrates/
ref: https://ellenpepper.substack.com/p/ma-belle-dame-sans-merci

Oh, Susanna

 

 

Oh, Susanna

by Ellen Pepper

Susanna: Doc, the medication is hampering my cognitive abilities and decimating my memory.

Doc: In what way? Can you be specific?

Susanna: It's like this, see - I have to think about thinking now. Before I started with the meds, and during my time of being non-compliant, I was able to simply think of things. Now, I have to make plans to think.
For instance: I'm standing at the sink and realize that I need to get something in the fridge.
I start walking the 6 feet to the fridge but with the first step, my mind goes blank about the reason I'm going there. With each step, I search my memory to no avail. Then, I decide to wait until I'm actually standing before the open fridge to jog my memory.

Door open, I am still blank.

I look over at the sink and realize that I hadn't been standing there at all, I'd been at the counter preparing a salad and that what I needed in the fridge was the container of Feta cheese. 
It's not as simple as just thinking that I should grab the cheese and doing so - it takes more thought than it should.
My mind isn't working properly anymore.
What can we do to fix this?

Doc: It strikes me that you are simply over-thinking. You're making too much of simple tasks.

Susanna: Exactly my point - my cognition and memory are obviously affected by these meds.

Doc: I disagree - your overthinking is nothing more than a symptom of anxiety about having to take medications to stave off the fact that you are dying. You're in denial. 
Look at it this way: you are able to observe and be conscious of how your mind is working, therefore your mind is working...just differently. 
Your memory is lagging a bit but still functional - you may forget the cheese, for instance, but you haven't forgotten what cheese is and what it's used for, correct?
Your memory is functional.

Susanna: I don't think that you are taking this seriously enough. I'm very disturbed about this and want to rectify it somehow. Immediately, if possible.
Can't you prescribe different meds that won't have this effect?

Doc: Susanna, you must acknowledge that none of this matters because you'll be dead within 3 months. There's no way out. There's no cure. Surely you can cope with alternate ways of thinking for 3 months? Put on your big girl panties and deal with the fact that you're terminal.

Susanna: Oh Doc, your compassion and empathy overwhelm me. Thank you most graciously for being direct and honest. I can only hope that you are given the same response when you next consult a physician.
By the way, you don't have 3 more months. You'll be dead before me. A sudden accident. You'll greet me when I reach the Other Side. Mark my words.

Doc: That's enough for today. Let's meet again next Thursday.

Susanna: No. Sorry, Doc - you won't be able to make it. Thanks for everything. See you soon.

Dr Witherspoon died in her own home. She  was the victim of a plane crashing into her house on the following Wednesday.

 

©Ellen Pepper 2025

  
 

WHEEL of DESTINY

 
They all died...eventually. All of them, though they damn well desired to die sooner than they did.

They all died - those misbegotten creatures who doomed their fellow humans to pain, suffering and premature death by assenting to the notorious Murder Bill put forth by Satan's minion, the Demented Orange Despot. They passed it on the 3rd of July 2025 because they'd planned to have a holiday on July 4th - what should have been Independence Day.

The People had finally rebelled when they realized that their elected representatives had come together to destroy the lives of their constituents. 
They grabbed their sacred guns and headed to Washington DC to teach the murderers by proxy that the People were even more dangerous than the blackmail that Trunt et al had held over their heads,
Millions of angry Americans came by truck, car, train, plane and tractor - armed and dangerous. 

The Army, Marine Corps, Navy, Air Force, and Coast Guard were called in to defend the city. Told to prepare to fight to the death to save those who had consigned others to suffering and death.

The guilty politicians having heard of the revolutionaries advancing toward the city, made a hasty retreat to their holiday homes, thinking they'd be safe there. They were wrong, but we'll get to that.

The critical degree was reached a week after the call to arms was made on radio and via internet. 

40 million people descended on DC with rage in their hearts. 

They tore the place apart and the military joined in the melee because they are humans and their friends and families are human and everyone who isn't a billionaire or corporation would be damaged by this steamrolled bill.

In every city and on every road and highway, millions more stood in silence. The media, seeking advertising dollars, sent reporters who tried to interview some of them until they were murdered by furious folk who held them responsible for not reporting the facts to the public long before the so-called government went insane and became fascistic. The media representatives were killed because their bosses were in hiding and couldn't be found by the mob.

Meanwhile, there was a groundswell of raiders rounding up politicians wherever they were found and putting them on trucks to be taken to Florida's newly opened and notorious Alligator Auschwitz, originally meant to be used for the ethnic cleansing of brown-skinned humans who were abducted and held regardless of their proof of citizenry or lack of criminal charges.

 After a few weeks, almost all of the still-living politicians were imprisoned there to suffer the extreme heat, high humidity, insects, lack of nutrition, filthy, disease-ridden water, lack of hygiene facilities, and, of course, the site's much vaunted specialty, daily cruel and unusual torture. Horrific screams could be heard throughout the concentration camp every hour of every day. 

There was a court in session daily for the first few months to ensure that all prisoners were indeed guilty of assenting to the Bill's aim of decimating the population through dire suffering. 

The prisoners were given the same amount of medical aid that they had consigned the citizens to in the Bill - which was none. Quite a few perished from this lack.
No medicines were given. No doctors provided. Some died of infections that could have been easily treated with cheap medications but the insurance companies were no longer paying out - mostly because their greedy executives were also dead or in prison.

The evil ones were given boiled rice and crackers. Water was in barrels that sat out in the heat all day.
They lived in cages - men and women together. Rapes were common. Deaths happened weekly. Beatings went on by the hour. Prisoners were kept naked at all times lest they use clothing in an attempt to commit suicide. No blankets were provided for the same reason.

Nobody was allowed out to walk in the yard. The cages were deliberately overcrowded.

They were living in agony, torment, and purgatory and yes, they begged to be put out of their misery but the networks were making too much money by selling advertising for the 24 hour a day closed circuit tv/internet pay per view. Pure, raw entertainment for the enraged masses - it was very popular. The networks were run by the young people who had taken over after the executives were executed for mendacity and propaganda. 

Eventually, all the soul-sellers died and the shape of government had been radically changed in favor of the citizenry. 

Anyone who wanted to run for office had to prove they were dedicated to serving the people and not the rich or themselves. 

Children were taught real history and ethics and civics and fiscal prudence so nobody could claim ignorance when voting. Science was once again respected and learned by all. 

Voting was no longer a privilege or a right but compulsory. Exams were taken before every election to ensure that voters had in-depth knowledge of what was at at stake.

Nobody was ever forced to go hungry or do without medical care. Enough housing was built. Rage became a rarity when all humans were treated with respect.

Ultimately, what happened was that the common people realized that only they could responsibly care for each other and the community so they  tried to ensure fairness and opportunity for all as a moral obligation.

We had learned how to take a detour from Hell in order to get to Paradise.


 ©Ellen Pepper 2025

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alligator_Alcatraz

Justice and Redemption

 

 

 

Mentor Dommer: "You've harmed a Protected Soul. Your punishment will be the loss of your trusting husband to divorce. Your prosperity will be dissolved and you will henceforth live in poverty. Your children will turn their backs to you. You'll become a pariah in the Sorcery Commune.
Your illness will increase until you die the gruesome death that you wished upon your victim. 
The only chance you have at Redemption is to throw your fate to the one you tried to harm but note that she has every right and reason to consign you to the flaming bowels of Hell that you hoped would be her end."

 Jesabelah LaVayne Mentider: "She will surely gain pleasure and satisfaction from my suffering and eventual demise."

Mentor Dommer: "She will not. That's where you made your fatal error. She's not like you - she is pure of heart. Your suffering will not only not please her, it will cause her to feel grief. 
You fool! Her Spirit Team watched your attempt to harm her due to your overweening envy. They caused your iniquity to boomerang back to you. Now you will suffer the fate that you wanted to destroy her with and ..."

JLM: "The doctors say there is no hope of a cure but it does look to be a terminal condition."

MD: "PSHAW! The allopaths in Londinium have nothing with which to counteract self-imposed Fekete Mágia. Of course they told you there is no hope - they have no idea what is ailing you.
Really - what did you expect when you unskillfully attempt the most vile of spells in the lexicon all in the service of ill intentions? Do you want to survive this? If so, you must first make a sincere confession and then seek absolution from the one you desired to harm."

JLM: "To whom do I make this confession?"

MD: "To your intended victim, of course - Ángel de la Tierra."

JLM: "I suppose I have no choice but she'll have to come to me, the spell has weakened my once lithe limbs and restricted my mobility."

In due course, a missive is dispatched to Ángel de la Tierra, who immediately makes her way to Jesabelah's sickbed and asks to be told how she can be of aid to the sorceress. 

JLM: "I must make a full confession to you, Ángel, and ask your forgiveness. I have wronged you but in so doing, I have poisoned myself and am soon to perish. Please hear me out, and if you can find it in your heart, I hope that you will grant me peace."

Ángel de la Tierra: "Of course, I'll heed your need, Jesabelah. Speak your words with sincerity and I'll respond in a judicious manner."

JLM: "You are most gracious. Please be seated - this may take a while - I tire so easily now and the tale is lengthy."

JLM inhales deeply, coughs, and then...
"I, Jesabelah LaVayne Mentider, hereby fully confess to the desire and implementation of a Fekete Mágia spell to destroy the pure heart and soul of my rival in love, Ángel de la Tierra, in pursuit of my craven desire to gain control of her mate, Rod Božský Mužský, manipulating him by gossip and lust spells to abandon her and to accept my charms as his wish fulfillment.
I had cast upon you, Ángel, the most vicious and provocative bloodspell that causes despair and illness and leads to an early demise. I was envy-ridden. You have everything I do not: charm, grace, generosity of spirit, pure intentions, compassion, wisdom...you name it - you're simply a paragon of virtue and that fact boiled my viscera in acid. 
I despised myself for not being you. I befriended you in the hope of exposing any darkness within you and cause you to be shamed before the world. I wanted you to lose everything you held dear. I strongly desired to ensure that you'd never bear the children of your mate, Rod. I tried to make your womb shrivel and dissolve.
I used sorcery to enthrall Rod. Someone who witnessed my pursuit of your mate likened it to that of a hungry anaconda in heat writhing around him. Who could resist me? No one could, and neither could he. He betrayed your trust because of me. I was giddy with pleasure because of this.
Please forgive me. I have wronged you. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa." 

Ángel de la Tierra crosses the room and touches Jesabelah's damp forehead. Ruminates for several minutes. Then...

Ángel de la Tierra: "What have you learned, dear one?"

JLM: " I've learned that I only harm myself when I allow envy to devour my soul and govern my impulses, I've learned to think through my vengeful desires. I've learned not to interfere with the loving hearts of two who are meant for each other - their names entwined in the Book of Life. I've learned that I lack the skill to alter reality.
Please be forgiving. Have mercy upon me. Your compassion can dissolve the evil Fekete Mágia and spare my life and, ultimately, save my blackened soul."

Ángel de la Tierra: " You must sincerely vow to do no more harm. By keeping that vow sacred, you'll release yourself from the spell.
I wish you to find joy in the passion to be kind to others. Find depth and meaning in being compassionate. Become a Helper.
Do you so vow,  Jesabelah LaVayne Mentider?"

JLM: "I do - and with the complete commitment of my soul." 

Ángel de la Tierra: "Jesabelah LaVayne Mentider, you are to become well and happy and free from suffering. Be at peace. I forgive you. Now you can forgive yourself. Have the best life."

©Ellen Pepper 2025