Meghan: The Island

The day I was born was not unique.
I was called out from wherever I had been before into the place where I was to serve my purpose, where I was to be alive. I was excited, ecstatic about this new existence I had, this new ability to think. But then when my story had run its course, my maker had no more use for me and I went to where those of our kind go when we have completed our usefulness; to the Island of the Jasmines.
This is our story.
Actually my story.
When I was assigned to a dormitory in the non-magical district I knew that my life on the Island would be tougher than I first thought. Jasmine’s magical creations far outnumber her nonmagicals, so the room I moved into was somewhat shabby and small. The matron of the house poked her blonde head in to see how I was doing. Her blue eyes flashed as she took in the disarray of my room and a moldy cereal bowl on the counter. One strain of living with the Jasminelings was the short tempers of our kind, especially when it came to old food. I quickly scooped the bowl into the trash, before there could be violence. The matron smiled and stepped in, letting in a few of the cats that were prolific on the island.
“I just came by to see how you’re settling in and give you a list of the rules.” She said, petting a tabby.
“Rules?” I asked. She handed me a long list that read:

Welcome to Jasmine Island! Here are a few rules to help you settle in
1) Jasminelings must never leave the island
2) Violence to cats is punishable by death
3) Other violence is an encouraged recreational activity
4) Jasminelings are to have fantastic sex every day (multiple times a day if there is time)
…

“What about the strait Jasminelings?” I asked. Since everyone I had seen on the island was female I wondered how Jasmine’s purely straight characters got by
The matron laughed, “There is a very, very small resort where Jasmine’s male characters go. I think they call it Spa Damian? Anyway they don’t do much but have sex all day long, what with the huge needs of the female characters. Poor dears.”
I laughed too, I doubted that the ‘poor dears’ suffered very much.
I continued reading the list and grew more horrified
…
45) Jasminelings must be physically perfect at all times
46) Jasminelings may not alter their appearance/character
…

“I can’t alter my appearance?” I asked, horrified, “but my story is over?“
“That doesn’t matter, why would you want to anyway?” The matron asked airily, “We’re all the way we’re supposed to be.”
She left, waving to me over her shoulder, “Call if you need anything, I’ll be up on the top floor.”
I just stood watching a cat rolling on my floor, unable to wrap my head around it. I couldn’t change my appearance? But I was just like them; I wanted to be different, I wanted to be me.
I fell to the floor, tearing at my long blonde hair. I didn’t care! I would dye my hair black, I would cut it! I would talk with an accent and pretend to be terrible in bed!
I would be different!




-M

Buterbug: Contagious

I am the shiny spot on a raindrop,

falling to the ground at high speeds.

I am the cocoa taste of a freshly twisted oreo,

you went to get from the pantry to fulfill your needs.

I am the bumblebee that stung you but didn’t die,

whom pollinated the garden flowers in mid-July.

I am the grease on the cogs of your car’s insides,

dragging your crap through town with pride.

I am the lover of your soul and the hand you hold,

if I were a pen, you’d be writing in BOLD.

Beautiful, satisfying, strong-willed, perseverant, and courageous,

I’m much better than before and freaking contagious.

-S