"Now are you ready to see some magic tricks?" Quincy asked, and everyone cheered. The show had officially begun.
Heather White
Heather White hails from the lands of the Appalachian Mountains. She spent her childhood moving, giving her a love for books, games, and stories and driven her passion for twisting tropes. Her writing passions run towards the paranormal and the romantic with an emphasis on superheroes. You can find out more about her and her other projects at her blog: https://heatherwhiteauthor.wordpress.com/.
She'd like to thank her family-Mom, Dad, Jay, Andrew, and Daniel-for their support and belief all these years.
Ashley Capes
Ashley is a poet, novelist and teacher living in Australia. He's the author of six poetry collections and five novels and was poetry editor for Page Seventeen from issues 8-10. He also moderates online renku group Issa's Snail.
Ashley teaches English, Media and Music Production, has played in a metal band, worked in an art gallery and slaved away at music retail. Aside from reading and writing, Ashley loves volleyball and Studio Ghibli - and Magnum PI, easily one of the greatest television shows ever made.
Links:
https://www.cityofmasks.com
https://twitter.com/ash_capes
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5806251.Ashley_Capes
Excerpt from: A Whisper of Leaves
Riko unclenched her fist when the plastic of her phone cover creaked.
"Damn it."
She dropped it on the empty passenger seat and took a breath. Relax, idiot. Smart phones aren't cheap. She gripped the steering wheel of her little Toyota instead; was he ever coming out?
Parked beneath the shade of a pine tree in one of Fuji-Yoshida's better neighbourhoods, it probably looked like she was on a stake out - the family who'd circled the block in the afternoon sun had certainly given her an odd look.
But she didn't have a choice; her job was at stake, maybe more.
And the man who held everything in his palm was doing his best to stay out of sight. Ikeda's compound - the residence was more than merely 'fenced' - had cameras, intercoms and a massive gate that remained closed to visitors. He had to leave sometime. Or return, if he was out. And she'd waited hours - she wasn't going anywhere, especially after nearly getting lost finding the place.
What would she even say? He'd be angry. And he wouldn't believe her; why would he? Her word against that of his son. She was a fool for trying.
Riko jumped when her phone rang. She grabbed it.
Dad.
"No way." Not now. She jammed the mute button down and tossed the phone back onto the seat. Even if she could talk, he wasn't going to say anything she hadn't heard a thousand times before. Worse than a broken record - he was like some awful, auditory tattoo.
A black Lexus, sleek as a gymnast, pulled into the driveway. Riko jumped out of the Toyota and dashed across the road, slipping between Lexus and gate. The driver, a man in a dark hat and suit, hit the horn and inched the car forward.
Riko stood her ground. "I need to speak to Ikeda-sama."
The driver pulled on the handbrake before winding the window down. "What are you doing?" he called.
"I need to speak to Ikeda-sama. It's important."
He stepped out of the car, leaving it running. "He doesn't take visitors. Best if you get out of the way, young lady."
"Please."
He shook his head, then looked over his shoulder. "Shach??"
A back door opened and a short man exited. Of an age with her father, his hair matched the jet black frames of his glasses. A blue tie sat bright against the grey of his suit. "Konda? What is this?"
"This lady here wants to talk to you. She won't move, I'm sorry."
Riko gave a bow. "Ikeda-sama. I wanted to speak to you about your son."
The man's expression morphed from annoyance to suspicion. His narrowed eyes tracked her as she stepped closer. Konda too, kept a close watch.
"How does this regard Yuuki?" Ikeda's posture would have brought a coat rack to tears.
"I taught at -"
"Enough." He held up a hand. "You are Riko-san?"
"Yes. And I came to swear to you that I never acted in an inappropriate manner with Yuuki."
Konda whistled, but looked down when Ikeda glared at him. To Riko, Ikeda said, "This is a poor apology."
"It must be hard to believe, but I'm telling the truth. Maybe the pressure on him was -"
He shook his head. "You do not hail from Japan originally, do you? I hear a slight accent. English? No, Australian perhaps?"
She frowned. "My parents are from Hokaido, but they moved to Melbourne before I was born."
He nodded, showing no pleasure at his guesswork, skilful as it was. "Then you are here on a work permit."
"Yes, but that doesn't have anything to do with what happened."
He smiled. "Do you think so? My son is not a liar. Should you wish to remain here in Fuji-Yoshida, in Japan for that matter, you will keep away from my family and my home."
Remain in Japan? Could he actually get her deported? "But -"
"Understand, Riko-san, that I will not have this disgrace fall upon the Ikeda name. Consider yourself fortunate that you were only dismissed."
"That's not -"
Ikeda pointed at her. "Not another word." He climbed back into the Lexus and snapped an order. The gates rattled open and Konda returned to the driver's seat, giving her a look. A warning? Part sympathy - it was so fleeting she couldn't be sure.
Riko stepped aside and the car lurched forward.
And that was that.
Find out how to read more at https://www.cityofmasks.com
Daniel Lind
Daniel is a teacher living in the United Kingdom with his wife and two children. He was born and raised in Sweden but emigrated in 2007. He's previously had short stories published in magazines such as Pidgeonholes and Zetetic and a zombie western is forthcoming in Flash Fiction Press.
Links:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lindhoffen
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lindhoffen
Excerpt from upcoming sci-fi story The Givers - a novella:
The steel door shut behind me as I entered the cramped room. Two teenage girls sulked at a desk. One had piercings all over her face, and her long hair shimmered green and blue. The other wore make-up that would turn any member of Kiss green of envy. Both wore torn black jeans and smelled old clothes.
I sat on a chair in front of the girls and nodded. "Does it hurt?"
The pierced girl glanced at me with utter disgust. "Wha'?"
"The stuff in your face," I said. "Does it hurt?"
She scowled. "The fuck d'you care?"
I shook my head. "Sorry. I'm Nathan. Apparently, you two were in my store last night. I'd like to know why."
The girl in make-up lifted her head from the desk. "We didn't-"
Her friend shushed her. "Is that what your alien buddies told you?"
"My apologies, I didn't catch your name." I extended my arm.
"Alice," said the girl with piercings. "And she's Charlotte."
"Can't your friend speak for herself?"
"No."
"All right." I scratched my head. "You claim you didn't trash my store. Why were you there then?"
"You're no blueberry, and no lawyer." If her voice carried poison, I'd be dead now. "So why don't you piss off?"
Feisty teenager-exactly what I didn't need. I cleared my throat. "We're gonna be here a while, d'you girls want anything to drink?"
Alice reclined in the chair and showed her middle finger with a grin. Charlotte had her head on the desk and didn't move.
"My surveillance outside the store recorded you two breaking in. That's a criminal offence."
Alice sighed. "Like I told the other geezer, we were asked to go and get something. The back door was open!"
I lost my train of thought for a moment. "You were asked? By who?"
/>
"One of your alien buddies. Jack, Joshua, or somethin'."
Joseph.
I leaned forwards. "What did he want you to take?"
"Cameras."
Why would the Givers take my cheap cameras? If they needed them they could've done it themselves-no need using teenagers as bait.
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