Sienna lived with a monster, but no one else knew it.

The first time Sienna realized that her monster wasn’t like the rest was in 4th grade. The whole grade assembled in the auditorium. A police officer watched them enter from his place on the stage. His stern presence and heavy uniform covered the room in a quiet and serious mood.

Officer Charles told the kids that they had a right to live in a safe home and explained that not every kid had a happy family – some lived with monsters! Little Sienna’s eyes widened with hope.

He is talking about me! I’m not the only one living with a monster?!

She knew Officer Charles would tell them all about her monster, and then save her!

“The signs of living with a monster are easy to spot if you know what to look for. If your friend displays scratches on their body, those may be from a monster. Remember, monsters have four claws on each forelimb, so the scratches come in sets of four and are often quite deep.”

With these words, Officer Charles snuffed out that small spark of hope. Sienna’s monster had never scratched her, at least not yet. She lived in constant fear of the hooked blades at the end of her monster’s fingers, though she had never felt their burn on her skin.

Officer Charles continued, “Monsters also frequently drink alcohol – they need this fuel so they can breathe fire. Of course, humans drink alcohol too, but monsters drink much more at one time and then breathe fire over their whole family soon after. If you or a friend are living with someone who burns their child in fits of anger, these are clear signs of a monster in hiding.”

The officer went on to explain how to help a friend or where to seek help for yourself, but Sienna hardly heard him. She knew then that her monster would never be found out. No one would save her. Sienna’s monster never drank alcohol, and he never scratched her with his forepaws.

Bill believed in the Tooth Fairy.

Big deal, you’re thinking. Lots of kids believe in the Tooth Fairy.

Well, Bill wasn’t a kid. He was twenty-eight years old.

You don’t believe it. My girlfriend Mary Beth didn’t believe it, either. We were having dinner with Bill and his friend Coralee. I guess I should say that Coralee was Bill’s girlfriend, but I can’t quite make myself do that. Coralee was a friendly soul who went places with Bill and tried to make him seem a little less strange than he would have been otherwise. She felt some genuine affection for Bill, but to hear her tell it, she was mainly doing her Christian duty in helping one of God’s odder children feel more comfortable in a world that didn’t seem to fit him very well.

We were having a good dinnertime talk when Bill suddenly brought up the Tooth Fairy.

“Bill, let’s not talk about that,” Coralee said, with an uncharacteristic note of strain in her voice.

“Why not?” asked Bill. “Roy and Mary Beth don’t seem to mind.”

“It’s fine with me,” I said. “Not what I expected to be discussing this evening, but that’s okay.”

Bill smiled. “No bad time to talk about the Tooth Fairy, right?”

“Well, maybe not when you’re at the dentist getting a tooth filled,” answered Mary Beth.

Bill laughed, too loudly. Coralee had tried to coach him on that, but Bill was still prone to raucous laughter over little ha-ha lines that would barely earn a chuckle from most of us.

“You’re right, Mary Beth. Even the Tooth Fairy herself wouldn’t think you should talk about her while you’re getting one of your precious molars repaired.”

Coralee smiled thinly. “And speaking of unpleasant things, I ran into the worst traffic on 285 this morning. Some joker was …”

Bill cut her off. “Now, Coralee, we weren’t done talking about the Tooth Fairy. You know she doesn’t like it when you disrespect her like that.”

“Wait, I’m lost,” said Mary Beth. “Who doesn’t like … what?”

Simon killed the Devil. It wasn’t an easy feat, to kill something immortal, but Simon had been up to the task.

“I thought I was giving a gift to all humanity,” Simon said at his trial, his orange jumpsuit glowing like a sun under the neon lights. “I really did.”

But that wasn’t for him to say.

“I mean, who wouldn’t shoot Old Scratch, given the chance?”

“Mr. Lancaster, it is not for us mortals to judge whether another is fit for death,” the prosecuting attorney claimed, his balding pate sweating even though the air conditioner in the courtroom had to be sucking half the power in town. “Mortal judgment is God’s work, not man’s.”

“Objection, your honor,” Simon’s lawyer barked from his seat.

“On what grounds?” the judge asked.

“Penal code 167b. The death penalty. Human society has deemed it appropriate under certain circumstances to determine whether a life should be terminated on moral grounds.”

“Through due process.”

A married couple negotiates the genetic future of their unborn child.

“I know this might sound kind of wild, but I’ve got a plan to save the world.” Jacqueline said to Aziz, gazing at him with her vivid blue eyes. They were out to lunch at Al Jyr, sitting beside a window. Their table sported a vase filled with azure hyacinths and the window overlooked a dusty street several floors below. “You see, I made a new type of virus that… well, it changes people for the better.” Jacqueline continued. “The virus edits a few genes, rewires some neurons, and changes the levels of some hormones. It turns us humans from nasty tribalists into far more compassionate people.”

“You’re kidding.” Aziz smiled.

“No, really!” Jacqueline insisted. “There’s been a lot of hatred, cruelty, and pain all over the world. I think this virus is gonna fix things. I call it Mahabbah and its name means love.”