Volume 1, Issue 7: Just Like a Ninja

Georgia Smalley lived across the road from Ian, Selma, and Birdie. She had never met them before but whenever she stepped out on her porch to smoke in the evenings, she could see Birdie across the road, sitting on her patio stairs reading a book. She rarely saw Selma around the apartment and took little interest in her. Neighbor Boy and Redhead Girl were interesting to observe though.

She didn’t know how Ian and Birdie were related, but she knew that had to be kin of some sort. Brother and sister? Cousins? Fraternal twins? She couldn’t tell. Their stature, blazing red hair, and freckles made them mirror images of one another. Ian seemed like a worrier—always fretting over some thought rolling around in his head. He always walked down the road to the bus stop deep in concentration, staring at the ground with his eyebrows crinkled.

Birdie, on the other hand, was a dreamer. Georgia was intrigued at the carefree and confident way that Birdie walked. She paid attention to her surroundings but not in the paranoid, hyper-vigilant way that Georgia tended to. Birdie saw every tree, every squirrel. She felt every drop of rain and every ray of sun. To Georgia, Birdie was damn near a Buddha—always present and smiling.

Georgia was putting the finishing touches on her Halloween costume. She was dressed as a masked ninja. Once she was fully dressed, she left for the Halloween party. Every year, the theater crowd at ICU threw a big party for Halloween. Chaos always ensued at these parties. Georgia was hoping that tonight would follow suit.

That morning Georgia had gotten mail addressed to Birdie in her mailbox. Georgia, being bisexual, had a big crush on Birdie and hoped that the letter would be her ticket in to getting to know her.

Little did she know, the letter would be unnecessary in getting to know Birdie. She and Ian had also been invited to the Halloween party. Birdie looked amazing as Rosie the Riveter—a little skinny, but cute as hell. Ian was…well…Georgia couldn’t tell what Ian was exactly. She came to find out later that he was attempting to look like one of his favorite and obscure writers. No one got it. Poor, clumsy Ian.

Georgia walked towards Birdie who was chatting with a group of people in the kitchen. Birdie saw her and made eye contact. Georgia didn’t miss the not-so-subtle way that Birdie checked her out as she walked towards her. Georgia’s curvy body moved in waves under her ninja suit. Her brown eyes were all Birdie could see of her face.

Birdie excused herself and walked out to the back porch. Georgia followed her. The night was chilly, and, aside from a few chatty smokers, she and Birdie were the only people outside.

“Nice night,” Georgia commented. Birdie looked at her.

“If you hadn’t have said anything, I wouldn’t have known you were even there, being a ninja and all,” she said and then looked away, seemingly embarrassed.

“Yep. We ninjas are an interesting lot. You never know when we’ll sneak up behind you,” Georgia said, taking a long drag of her cigarette.

Georgia walked towards Birdie and made eye contact. Birdie didn’t look away.

“What’s your name?”

“Birdie O’Reilly. What’s yours?”

“Ninjas never tell.”

"I think you're sexy," Birdie said and then clapped her hand over her mouth terrified she had let that information slip. Apparently the whiskey she'd had made her a little loose-lipped.

Georgia snuffed out her cigarette, leaned in, and kissed Birdie softly on the mouth. Her mask and the tequila she'd been drinking had made her extra brave. Birdie leaned into her touch and Georgia felt a vibration on her leg.

“Shit! My phone!” Birdie gasped. It was Selma.

“I’m sorry. It’s my roommate. She was at O’Reilly’s pub a couple weeks ago and got trampled when the fire alarms went off. Her ankle is broken and I should probably see what she needs,” Birdie stumbled.

Georgia nodded and smiled.

“I’ll be inside…if you can find me,” she said and winked.

After a quick chat with Selma, Birdie went back inside but couldn’t find her ninja girl anywhere.

Message #2 From Devina

Hello Lovemunchkins,
I am currently working on a plot treatment for a novel about your beloved Ian and his experience studying abroad. I plan to develop this novel and have it written in about a year. Keep your eyes and ears open for news of its progress!!

Keep it greasy,
Devina Devore

Volume 1, Issue 6: Rescued

Selma was studying at the university library for her first exam in her victimology class. The class was really stressing her out. It was close to midnight and she had been here since she had left work at 7pm. Her stomach was rumbling. She hadn’t eaten all day. She took a deep breath and leaned back in her seat for a moment to clear her head. She needed to take a break before her brain collapsed. She locked up her books and laptop in her carrel and stepped outside with her cell phone.

Birdie picked up after three rings.

“Did I wake you?” Selma asked cautiously.

“Uh durrrr. It is almost midnight and I work at 6:30 in the A.M.” Birdie reminded her.

“I miss him,” Selma said, ignoring Birdie’s obvious annoyance.

Selma and Hassan had just broken up the day before. Hassan had dumped her because she refused to convert to Islam.

“We’ve been over this so many times. You know you can do better. You deserve someone who loves you; someone who respects you,” Birdie said.

“Ugh, I know. You know me better than anyone Birdie. You know I don’t like being alone but at the same time I’m afraid of commitment. Maybe I just screwed up with this one too. Do you wanna grab a beer? Let’s grab a beer. I need to de-stress.”

“A beer after midnight the night before your big victimology class? Not a good idea, Selma. Goodnight,” Birdie said hanging up the phone.

Selma sighed. She decided she’d go out for a drink by herself. After gathering up her things from inside the library she walked down to O’Reilly’s, the Irish bar that Ian’s parents owned. The bar was busy for a Tuesday night.

She scanned the room quickly, looking to see if there was anyone there that she knew and spotted Blake tucked away in a corner with a group of people. He caught her eye and waved her over.

Just then the fire alarms went off in the bar. A brief silence acted as a prelude to panic when all the drunk twenty something’s, rushed towards the exits—right where Selma was standing. Like a deer caught in headlights she froze as people crowded around her pushing towards the door. She tried to move to turn around but people surrounded her on all sides. Selma lost her balance and fell to the floor. She panicked—she was about to be trampled on. Someone stepped on her ankle and she heard a crack as a sharp pain ran up her leg. Selma screamed loudly, angry that drunk people were so inconsiderate and senseless.

She suddenly felt her body being lifted off the ground. Blake had picked her up off the floor as he followed the crowd outside.

Volumne I, Issue 5: Irish Dreams

Ian O’Reilly was sitting in the living room of his apartment reading through study-abroad brochures. The next semester would be his last semester of college and he was still feeling panicked about graduating and finding a “real job.” He had a wild idea that maybe if he studied abroad his last semester, he could find a job in whatever exotic place he was studying in and just stay there the rest of his life. That was Ian’s typical fear response: run away.

So far it was between Ireland (his motherland—he and Birdie were 1st generation Irish-Americans), New Zealand (hey!—that’s where the Lord of the Rings series was filmed!) or France (lots of sexy women there—ooh lala!). So far Ireland was winning. For starters, they spoke English there. Secondly, he had some distant relatives that still lived in Dublin. He was sure he could stay with him while he was there which would cut back on the financial burden of having to pay a host family. He could also stay with them for a longer period of time should he find some sort of work while there.

His parents were against the idea. The whole reason they moved to the states was to get away from Ireland and now he wanted to go back? They were irate and couldn’t understand his persistence in wanting to travel to Dublin. It didn’t matter how many stories of hardship they told him, he wouldn’t listen. Once he had an idea in his head, it was an almost impossible task to convince him to change his mind.

He grabbed the Ireland brochure and stuffed it in his backpack along with the rest of his books. Picking up his backpack, he left his apartment to head to campus for his Shakespeare class.

The bus stop was on the very corner of the road that his apartment was. While waiting for the bus he noticed the neighbor across the street was staring at him. She was slowly smoking a cigarette and looked very comfortable on the front porch glider. He checked her out from the corner of his eye. She was cute and seemed mysterious—just his type.

The screech of the bus’s brakes pulled him from his momentary trance. He made a mental note to someday get up the courage to introduce himself to this mystery neighbor. In the meantime, he planned on fantasizing about Ireland until he got to campus.