The Areson Stories

       There are two kinds of people who mass consume things. One group calls themselves critiques or consoles, that they merely ingest a lot because they are trying to find the best and must weed out all the horrible things in order to find it. The other group lets themselves be called gluttons, they arguably enjoy what they are consuming more because they don’t need to feel the need to explain themselves to anyone. Alice knew which group she belonged to.      Alice was a story glutton. Her love was in the classic tomes of Sherlock Holmes, Anne of Green Gables, Jane Eyre, and Don Quixote . It also had spread to Hunger Games, A Matter of Days, The Fault In Our Stars, Ready Player One, and Harry Potter. Her love touched poetic longing and trashy romance alike. It danced in battles and in dark alleys. It covered innocence to sin with a gentle touch. It lingered in the plots of movies, from the Oscar winners to the b movies found in the free bin at a...

Taylor By: E. M. Areson My heart was pounding. I opened my eyes and reached for the lamp beside my bed. My dark bedroom instantly lit up when I flipped the switch. I looked over at my clock. 3:14 A. M. I’d been asleep about an hour and a half. My head ached and I rubbed my eyes. It was somehow not even surprising anymore. I set up. Maybe my mom wouldn’t notice if I just played on my phone. I grabbed my cell off my bedside table and looked for a game, none of them looked very appealing when I was this tired. I played around for a while then decided to re-organize my closet. After all, I wasn’t going to sleep. I sat cross-legged in front of my closet. I pulled all my shoes out to pair them. Gray boot with a gray boot. Pink tennis shoe with a pink tennis shoe. Red high-heel. I blinked. I didn’t own a red high-heel. I didn’t own any high-heels. I shivered. She did. She wore those heels every time I saw her. Wait. I’m asleep when I see her. I reached for the heel. It felt real. ...

The Young Man By E. M. Areson Sitting in the library I wasn’t really paying attention to the rest of the world. The book I was reading was a world all its own. How could the real world compare? I would rather be in a world of dragons, knights, wizards, and monsters than one of the cars, smog, and metal music. The portal opened up and Jalmo fell deep into the Well of Eternity. His skin tingled and he lost all sense of equilibrium. The breath left his lungs and hair flew in his face. Where and when he was going was a mystery. He could end up a hundred years in the future or a thousand years in the past. Or worst, he could end up in another world altogether. My heart was racing. Jalmo couldn’t die, I know no one comes back from the Well of Eternity when and where they left but he couldn’t die. Or what if he ended up in the past, he could start a time paradox. Or in the future where he wouldn’t have anyone to help him adjust. Jalmo landed hard on his back. He set up trying t...

Wash Your Hands By E. M. Areson Yàn ate his dumplings in silence. His two room apartment was small, with only a table and one chair to furnish his combined dining room and kitchen. His bed was shoved in the corner underneath it all his clothes set folded. The only non-essential possession he had was a wooden box about the size of a shoe box. It was rather plain and set in the middle of the table next to his dumplings. A loud knock at the door made Yàn sit up. He knew what this meant. It happened so often he could nearly predict it. He walked over to the sink washed his hands then opened the door. Mr. Wang, the newest local Triad leader. He had a thug behind him, in his belt the thug had a rather large handgun. “Come in,” Yàn said in Chinese. “Please wash your hands.” Yàn himself went over and re-washed his hands but Mr. Wang and his thug merely walked by into his small house. “You are a hard man to find Yàn. I’ve been hearing about you though,” Mr. Wang said, also in Chin...

Painless By E. M. Areson This is boring, Algos thought. Can’t they do something else? “Excuse me.” He tried to yell but his mouth was nearly swollen shut. “For the hundredth time. I don’t feel pain. You're accomplishing nothing.” The A.P.P.S. officer scowled, “Don’t run away again.” The man climbed out of the back of the semi and shut the door. Why don’t they have windows in these things? I climbed out of one once, but it was a lot cooler in that semi. Algos twisted his hands in the shackles suspended above his head. I wonder what they do for handless. He smirked or tried to. His face didn’t want to work. He tried to feel as much of his face as he could with his tongue. Blood. Why do they bother? You know one of these days an A.P.P.S. semi or van is going to get pulled over by the cops and the cops will find someone back here and A.P.P.S. will get it. Semi started again and for a while, Algos tried to sleep. Thoughts of the home he couldn’t go back to both h...