The autopsy report confirmed that the body was only a few hours old.  Both parents confirmed that the nineteen year old had gone missing earlier that day, just after lunch, when the sun cooked eggs on the concrete. Later they identified Wheeler’s dark tresses and the mole on her left cheek. Her parents couldn’t recognize much else.

Police investigated the case, calling the case a homicide. Five years later and no murderer had been found. Every third Friday a twenty-four year old woman visits the lawn, though the police have long since removed the yellow tape. She runs her hand along the blazing concrete and smirks, before she walks off, the sun catching the wave in her dark curls.

Or actually, the sky fell.

Yesterday it fell through my ceiling,

Landing square on my slug bug.

Ice from an airplane experts said.

I say the sky’s playing games with me,

And he never said no tag-backs.

I tried running upstairs to quell my rage. Over and over again I washed my hands, trying to think about happier things: pink roses on our first date, warmth in our first kiss. Still, all I could think about was how he had insulted my taste.

And so I went down to the kitchen where he washed the dishes, the very fine china he had insisted eating fast food with. I grabbed one of the steak knives he had just washed, turned it in my hand, and watched him die. He shouldn’t have insulted my taste in tacos.

The room stood empty, everyone else had fled the moment the gun came out. Unfortunately, the barista had to earn her wages, and so she stayed. “No.” She drummed one set of fingers on the counter, while she hid the other set from view.

“Don’t make me shoot.” His eyes narrowed, as sweat began to trickle down his left temple.

“Don’t make me.” Her hidden hand pulled out her own gun, which she used to mirror his actions.

His gun thudded to the floor as his feet swept through the door as fast as they could take him.

She set down the gun and picked up the phone, dialing the police. With a unshaken voice she told the dispatcher the details of her latest adventure. “You might want to arrest this guy before I have to use my Christmas present on him. I’d hate to have to waste this ammo.”

Five months of watching personality cult propaganda, five months of pacing around their cells, five months of losing time. Now time was theirs. Now the world was theirs. As for their souls, they had forfeited those long ago to the one Person the government could confiscate them from.

Enclosed in this package is two long overdue books. Hopefully those poor bird-watchers didn’t miss them. It’s too bad that I packed them away before I could use them for my report. To this day, I’m still not sure if my teacher noticed or not when I gave my presentation in class.

I’m pretty sure though, if she’s still around, that Ms. Whatever-Her-Name-Was has an exact count of how many days of my two cents that I owe. Hopefully this check covers it all (knowing her, the rates may have changed.) May that likely retired librarian sleep peacefully at night from now on. If she hasn’t retired, allow me to apologize to any students under her jurisdiction.

Yours Truly,

A student from the class of ’58

We marched to the oracle;

We marched to take her down;

We marched to cast her into the sand;

We marched to bury her body  in the sand,

to the place we would all return.

_________________

We marched for Cambyses;

We marched for the son of Cyrus;

We marched for the King of Persia;

We marched to make him and his advisors proud;

We marched to be remembered above all Persian armies;

We marched to be remembered beyond the sand,

the place we would soon return.

______________

We marched to be lost;

We marched to be found;

We marched to leave arrowheads and silver bracelets;

We marched to leave a thousand skulls grinning at the sky;

We marched into the sand;

We marched into the sand,

and to sand we returned.

We wish him luck.

I’ve been thinking about you  a lot recently. With all your recent accomplishments, it’s hard not to. I know our relationship’s been a bit rocky lately, with all the listening devices and undercover informants serving as your customers. I had to keep tabs on you somehow.

I’ll gladly accept your busted drugs as gifts to my investigation, and give you this card (and the right to remain silent) as a thank you. The jail cell might not seem like much, but I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to get used to it.

Lawfully yours,

The Police Department

Unless you watch our cast.

Watch our show,

And we’ll do our best to keep the terrorists and the Swine Flu at bay.

(Oh, excuse us, we mean H1N1. We don’t want to offend the swine.)

Drive up our ratings,

And we just might stop the mudslinging,

Or maybe we’ll wallow in the dirty stories just a bit more,

(We want to make more cash for our commercials.)

So, please keep watching,

We want to make you happy

With our depressing news.