Welcome To My Blog

 

To help you select the stories and poetry you might want to read, below is the list of all posts made to my blog since its inception. Posts are listed in chronological order from the first post made on April 18, 2019, until the most recent post (The most recent post appears first on the blog). Please browse the list of posts to find the titles that most intrigue you. Then do one of the following:

 

1.         Place the title of the post in the space beneath the header, “Search This Blog.” With regard to poetry, a post may contain more than one poem. You may have to insert the first two poems listed to find what you want. Then click on search. The posting should appear at the top of the screen for you to read. Or . . .

 

2.         Using the date a particular posting was made, go to the “Blog Archive” to the right of the posts and click on the particular month in which the poem or short story was posted and scroll down until you find what you would like to read. Please note that if you scroll through all the posts on the screen and don’t find what you are looking for, below the last post on the screen, on the right, are the words, “Older Posts.” Click on this and you will find the additional posts made during the particular month you have selected. Scroll through these until you find the story or poem you wish to read.

 

Enjoy the journey, as you read the creations of my heart and my mind.

 

Thank you.

 

Alan

Alan Lowe
Poet and Writer

slolowe@icloud.com

https://slolowe44.blogspot.com/

 

 

 

 

 

Can counseling help you to have a better life? And what if it’s in a group with strangers?

 

Many people don’t know what to expect from a counseling session. To get an answer, you may want to participate in . . .

 

 

Counseling Session 101

 

     “Good evening. Welcome to Counseling Session 101. My name is Dr. Thera P. For this evening’s group session and the nine that follow, we will go by our first name and first initial of our last name only, in order to maintain anonymity and a level of comfort. It is time to get to know one another, discuss our symptoms and history, and set goals for the counseling process. We are sitting in a circle so that we all are visible to one another. Let’s begin tonight’s meeting by introducing ourselves. We’ll start with the young woman to my right.”

     “Uh, this is making me feel somewhat uncomfortable, Dr. Thera P. I don’t know if I can do this.”

     “Please, take a deep breath.”

     “Okay.”

     “Now let it out slowly. Are you starting to feel better?”

     “Yes, I think so.”

     “All right then. What is your name.”

     “Uh, my name is Chara T.”

     “Well Chara T., tell us something about yourself.”

     “I’m a very giving person. I want to help people who don’t have the means to help themselves. I clean out my closets twice a month and donate clothing and household goods to our local mission for the homeless. Do you want more?”

     “No. You’ve done an excellent job. Let’s go on to the person to your right.”

     The room became silent. A number of the group members began squirming in their seats.

     “Sir, did you hear me?”

     “Yes, I did.”

     “Then what are you waiting for?”

     “I’m not here because I want to be. I’m Curtis C. and I’m doing this because my wife insisted upon it. I’m trying to be a good guy and be respectful.”

     “That’s a very good statement, Curtis C. Thank you, and let’s continue with the next member of our group.”

     “This is amazingly upsetting.”

     “What are you telling us?”

     “I have no business being here. I’m a wonderful person. I’ve never done anything wrong. I have a great career. And, if you haven’t noticed, I’m beautiful.”

     “I understand. Please tell us your name.”

     “Vana T.”

     “Dr. Thera P., can I clear this up?”

     “Clear what up? Just introduce yourself. You’re next in line.”

     “I’m Clara T. I see what nobody else does. I make the truth stand out so others can see the obstacles in their way. I catch the points others miss, for I am Clara T.”

     “Well, thank you, Clara T., for helping me to see my misstep. Let’s move forward so I can make it right.”

     “This is getting too damn serious. Let’s have some fun.”

     “But it’s not your turn, Miss.”

     “Put a smile on your face, Dr. Thera P. Enjoy life. That’s what it’s all about. My mission is to bring happiness and joy to the world.”

     “Well, young lady, let’s start by introducing yourself to the group.”

     “So be it! I’m Blissful E.”

     “Then I guess I’m next, Dr. Thera P.”

     “Fine, go ahead.”

     Buzz, Buzz, Buzz.

     “What are you doing?”

     “Just introducing myself. My name is Honey B. I’m the sweetest person you’ll ever know. But don’t get on my wrong side, cause my sting will shock you in a way you’ll never forget.”

     “Fascinating introduction, Honey B.”

     “Yes, it was, wasn’t it.” Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz . . .

     “Now, let’s move on.”

     “I’m next. I’m next, Dr. Thera P. I can make all this right.”

     “You can? What makes you say that?”

     “Because I’m Warren T. I will guarantee everything, at least for a period of time. I promise.”

     “And your commitment is for how long?”

     Quiet fell upon the room. Not a word uttered. The participants stared off into space. “That’s what I thought,” I stated with conviction.

     Then a sweet voice sung out, “I believe it’s my turn. Please follow my lead and our journey will take us to ‘Heaven’s Gate,’ and we will be blessed by the Lord, Himself, forever.”

     “How can you be so sure?”

     “Because it’s all in a name.”

     “I’m listening. I guess you’re inferring that the name you are talking about is yours.”

     “Why, yes. For I am Faithful E., and I do everything in a loyal manner—letter for letter.”

     “I didn’t believe anyone could leave me speechless. But you’ve come close.”

     “Well, thank you, thank you, thank you for appreciating my magnificent manner and style.”

     “Excuse me, I think I’m . . .”

     “Are you all right, Dr. Thera P.?” Faithful E. asked, looking a bit puzzled.

     “Uh, I’m fine. Just something caught in my throat. And now our last group member.”

     “Hello, everybody. I’m a winner beyond all winners. I’m the man. People are astounded by my accomplishments and impressed by my stamina, as I cross the finish line. For I am Victor ‘Y,’ pronounced ‘E!’”

     I regained my composure and leaned back in my chair. My audience of nine anxiously awaited my next remarks. But I said nothing. My mind drifted and my eyes drooped. My chin fell to my chest and I pictured large gray clouds drifting through the air.

     Not completely separated from reality, I heard the door to the room squeak open. With my eyes glazed over, I saw a figure, dressed in a black suit, shirt, and tie, come through the entrance and stand before the group.

     With lips dry and throat parched, my efforts to speak were uneventful. I thought, This can’t be happening. 

     The group’s eyes moved from me to the intruder. They looked at him as if he was their savior. The clouds I’d pictured were now fluffy white. And then he spoke . . .

     “The ‘psycho’ therapist, the crazy lady, can no longer invade your inner selves and pretend to have your best interests in mind. She wishes only to control your destiny. But I am the one who opens the doors to set you ‘free’ and allows your souls to grow. Remember me, your forever leader—Fredo M.”

     Then something strange happened. God reached out to me. His message, “The ‘Devil’ will never have the power to control my ‘Kingdom.’ So, stand up my child, and do what is right.”

     And I did. With a strong voice I didn’t know I had, I stated, “Indeed, that was a ‘fabulous’ introduction, Fredo M. But I’m sorry to say, ‘freedom’ is God’s gift to bestow upon us, not yours. I have been set free to do what is right. So take a seat behind us, keep your mouth shut, and listen, as we prepare for our second ‘Counseling Session 101.’”

     However, before he could, he was propelled into a now black clouded sky on his way back to the depths of Hell.

 

 

Copyright © 2025 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Sometimes it becomes unclear what we’re going to do. But we know we have to do it.

 

Then the unexpected occurs, and we wonder, . . .

 

 

Can We Do It?

 

      It was a cool, autumn evening. A bit too quiet for my liking. Kelly and I sat on the park bench staring at a full moon, as we talked about our next escapade.

      Life could be a bit dull if we didn’t pursue our dreams. So when we were able to get out of the house, we did what we wanted to do.

      “You really think we can do this?” Kelly asked, shaking his head, as if he had bugs crawling through his hair.

      “We’ll never know unless we try.”

      “But don’t we need the four of us?”

      “I don’t know. However, they are our partners. We should ask them?”

      “Yeah, guess so, Winslow,” Kelly muttered.

      “Let’s meet back here in an hour to get it done.”

      “You think we can get Lizzy and Toni to agree to come so quickly?”

      “That’s not the problem.”

      “Then what is?”

      “Getting out of the house again. It’s getting late.”

      “Maybe we should put it off until tomorrow.”

      “Nooooo!”

      “Don’t get so upset, Winslow. We’ll do it tonight,” Kelly groaned.

      “Okay, then let’s go. See you back here soon.”

      Well, off we went to get our partners and prepare for the great adventure. My heart raced in anticipation of our evening endeavor.

      Arriving home, I entered the front yard through the open gate and headed into the house. It was so quiet, it was almost eerie. Only one light was on in the living room. And the TV sound was low. 

      Toni lay on the couch watching it, I think. She didn’t move when I came in. Probably didn’t hear me. So not to scare her, I gently nuzzled her ears. Slowly, she lifted her head and gazed at me. My heart fluttered. Afterall, she was my soulmate.

      It didn’t take much, however, to convince her to come with me. Since the others who shared the house with us were not home, we were able to exit, without explanation, and head to the park to meet Lizzy and Kelly.

      As we crossed Fireside Boulevard, the bright lights at the entrance to the park spooked Toni. She started to back away.

      “Toni, what are you doing?” I asked.

      “I’m going home. This place frightens me. Why are we here, anyway, Winslow?”

      “Because we have something important to do,” I responded.

      “Like what?”

      “You’ll know as soon as I do. 

      “You don’t know?”

      “Uh . . . oh, there they are.”

      “Who?”

      “Lizzy and Kelly.” 

      Toni and I pranced toward the park bench area. Lizzy looked at us, shook her head and tossed her golden hair back. She was quite cute, I thought.

      Kelly looked at me, stuck his nose in the air, and grunted, “You ready to get it done?”

      “Yeah, I think I am.” 

      “You really don’t know what we’re going to do. Do you?” Toni, asked, somewhat angrily.

      “Well, it’s a thing, a big thing,” I responded.

      “A thing!” Lizzy shouted in a way that made me shake.

      “Then she turned toward Kelly, glared at him and yelled, “What thing?”

      Looking bewildered, he said, “I don’t remember.”

      Then the evening took a frightening turn—one I’ll never forget. Two men in black shirts, with the words “Animal Control” printed on them, ran toward us. “You take those two and I’ll get the others,” the big fat man yelled.

      That was my cue, and I finally knew what we were meant to do tonight. . . . “Run like hell!” 

 

 

Copyright © 2026 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Technology has changed our lives in unforeseen ways. Will we ever be free of Artificial Intelligence?

 

Who’s in control? You or . . .

 

 

Artificial I . . .

 

     “Artificial Intelligence” is a prominent factor in our lives. We can’t go anywhere or do anything without being affected by it.

     It seems like it’s monitoring our every move and we’ve become dependent on it to survive. From eating, to shopping, to driving and to going to school, to work, or to a health provider’s appointment, we’ve become entangled in its snare. And working on the computer or using the phone can be an absolute nightmare.

     But artificial intelligence may not be the only artificial entity making our lives more complicated, unpredictable, confusing, and difficult to navigate. And these have been with us since the beginning of time. Many of them may turn our lives upside down, as is the case in the following scenarios.

    

 

     The bell rang and Ms. Shelden stood in front of the classroom staring at a room full of sixth graders. Getting their attention was almost impossible. “Please class, listen to me. What I have to say is very important. Jeremy, what are you doing? Didn’t you hear me? Aren’t you paying attention?”

     “Yes, Ms. Shelden, I’m delighted to take in all your good words. My future depends on it.”

     “What you’re saying, young man, seems more false than real.”

     “Then you’ll just have to accept my ‘Artificial Interest.’” He began to laugh uncontrollably.

 

 

     Noises and smells from the kitchen enhanced the environment of the restaurant. Deborah looked across the table at the guy she met on the “Single Not Forever” website. She didn’t know much about him, but wanted to make a good first impression. She smiled and chanted, “Hi handsome. I’m one lucky girl to have met you.”

     He replied, “Just give me one reason why.”

     Silence permeated the environment. Then she sputtered, “Uh, you have a wonderful smile.”

     “With the fullness of my beard, I don’t know how you can tell,” he said. “Artificial Infatuation” ended the evening that was probably never meant to be in the first place.

 

 

     The auditorium was packed with ardent admirer’s awaiting the guest speaker’s presence. The emcee’s voice resonated from the front of the room, “Let’s give a warm welcome to Dr. Charles Bigmouth. The words that he speaks will change our lives. He has done things we can only dream of doing.”

     The audience clapped loudly and awaited the entrance of this man of note, but nobody entered the stage.

     “Where is he?” a young woman in the first row yelled.

     “What’s taking so long for him to come out?” A man screamed.

     After five minutes, a small, meek gentleman appeared. With head bowed, he mumbled, “I have nothing to say.” It became clear, the emcee had delivered an “Artificial Introduction.”

 

 

     It was a beautiful evening. There were stars in the sky. Two woman danced down Main Street. And then one screeched, “I am the ‘Queen of Mean.’”

     The other chanted, “I am the princess from the world beyond.”

     Each held a bottle in hand and twirled around one another. One onlooker looked at his partner and said, “They’re really quite drunk, aren’t they?”

     The other responded, “I don’t think so. The label on their bottles says, “Spring Water to Die For.”

     This was definitely a case of “Artificial Intoxication.”

 

 

     Police sirens blared throughout an otherwise quiet neighborhood and then grew silent. People stared out their windows onto an empty street. But then what they saw made them shake. A figure dressed in black and wearing a mask moved toward the third house on Laurel Lane. Where are the police when you need them, they thought.

     The masked figure grabbed something from his pocket. Could it be a gun? they  pondered. One concerned neighbor reached for his phone and dialed 911. But before someone answered, a noiseless police car pulled up behind the culprit.

     The neighbors believed, They got him. Yes, they got him, We’re safe now. Then, the officers grabbed the man and ripped the mask from his face, and . . .

     The “criminal” yelled, “But officers I live here. And I’m wearing the mask because of COVID. I’m eighty-five and need the protection.”

     The police released him. And the question, “Was this just another incident of ‘Artificial Incrimination?’” ran through their minds.

 

 

     Thomas kept to himself and didn’t engage much with others. Friends and neighbors wondered what kind of a future he would have? Would he be forever alone in a world in which he was afraid to speak up?

     One afternoon, he lay on the couch in his living room, engaged in thought. With a sharp mind, he could do anything. But did he have the courage to do so. A knock on the door shook him out of his contemplative state.

     Opening it, he saw a beautiful woman, with tears running down her cheeks. She stood looking at him in silence.

     In his heart he knew he had to do something. “Can I help you, he asked?”

     “Yes,” she replied.

     “But how?” he requested.

     “You were my neighbor twenty years ago, when we were both six. You knew everything about me and I knew everything about you. We talked forever. And I need my friend back.”

     A door opened to a future Thomas never expected. He finished college, went on to graduate school, and became a therapist so he could help others. Was what he’d experienced, before the knock on the door that changed his life, just a state of “Artificial Introversion?”

 

 

     The wind blew through the trees on a warm October evening. Sherry and David stared into each other’s eyes.

     “I believe in you, with all my heart,” Sherry murmured. “You are my all.”

     “I love you, too,” David whispered.

     Two young adults looking at a lifetime together, Sherry and David had it all. The future was bright and they would climb the stairway to heaven as a team, supporting each other to achieve their dreams.

     Three years after they met, the loving couple recited their vows before Father Gorden and made their forever commitment. They traveled life’s path in the way only lovers could.

     Every night Sherry said, “David, you are my one and only. I will honor you forever.”

     David was overjoyed until he wasn’t. For one evening he came home earlier than expected and found Sherry, the love of his life, in bed with his brother. There was no doubt in his mind he had experienced, “Artificial Integrity.”

 

 

     Trapped in AI’s universe, we try our best to survive. But how do we deal with the likes of , “Yes, I’ll do it,” and then they don’t—“Artificial Intention.” Or, how about, “My name is Fred, your investment counselor, and I will make your money grow.” But he disappears, and takes your money with him, and his name is Ed—“Artificial Identification.” Also, what about the woman who goads you into taking the job that will change your life. And you do, but nothing she said was real. Unknowingly, you were tricked by an “Artificial Influencer.”

     So just keep smiling for you have no alternative. The world has been and will continue to be ruled by “Artificial I . . .,” now and forever.

 

 

Copyright © 2025 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

 

As we age, we are confronted with new challenges. Some make us smile, while others can overwhelm us. 

 

Wanting to succeed in life is our objective. To do so, we may have to wait for . . .

 

 

A New Beginning

 

Yesterday the sun shined bright and a child played.

Singing and dancing, they held their head high.

 

Blessed, the world was theirs for the taking.

Blessed, the future was theirs in the making.

 

Years passed and the child grew into a young adult.

The brightness of the sun provided light to guide them.

 

They smiled and walked proudly down life’s path.

Trees protected their journey and covered them with playful shadows.

 

Happy, but unsure, they searched for the truth.

Answers eluded them and created discomfort.

 

Tears of sadness ran from their eyes.

They sought an escape from this confusion.

 

They prayed for the strength to exist in peace.

They prayed for the courage to find their way.

 

A cloud drifted above and the sky shed tears,

While new flowers blossomed at their feet.

 

Then the sun peeked from behind the clouds.

A sign of hope glowed, brightly illuminating the road to follow.

 

With their future ahead of them, they fell to their knees,

And looked to the heavens above, as a world of possibilities opened before them.

 

 

Copyright © 2026 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

What’s real and what isn’t? You may discover the answer in a very unimaginable way.

 

As you age, your life may change dramatically, and a question plagues your mind, . . .

 

 

Since When?

 

     Time marches on. Getting older may not unfold in a way you wanted it to. But it happens. And, in doing so, as lifelong friends, you may not always see eye to eye. That autumn night, sitting on my living room couch, things took a turn for the . . .

     “Since when did you have all the right answers?” I asked Mona, with a bit of anger in my voice.

     “Forever, she stated emphatically. Does that come as a surprise to you?”

     “We’ve known each other since we were five years old. And you’ve followed my lead, at times.”

     “Yeah, ‘Princess Lisa,’ once, when we were six. It was Halloween. We’d just gotten home from going trick or treating. And you knew I liked vanilla ice cream.”

     “You’re impossible, Mona. I don’t know how I’ve put up with you all these years.”

     “Lisa, you wouldn’t have reached your twenty-fifth or even your sixty-fifth birthday, if it wasn’t for me.”

     “And, Mona, you wouldn’t have reached yours, if it wasn’t for me. Remember . . .”

     “Let’s stop this crap and move on, Lisa.”

     “Move on? Move on where, Mona?”

     “See, once again, I’ve got to come up with all the answers.”

     “I hear music. It seems to be coming from above,” Lisa said softly.

     “Above? All music flows through the air, Lisa. But I don’t hear anything.”

     “You’ve got to be kidding. It’s a wonderful melody. Like angels singing.”

     Mona looked at me, as if I’d been dropped from outer space. If looks could kill, I’d be lying in the middle of a road somewhere. My mind wandered, and then . . .

     “Lisa, you’re nutty as a fruitcake.”

     “And Mona, you’re a muffin that hasn’t risen. Totally deflated.”

     “This has got to stop.”

     “What? The beautiful music?”

     “There you go again with the music, Lisa. It doesn’t exist. It’s all in your head.”

     “Are the voices in my head, too, Mona?”

     “Voices? Oh, my, I can hear them.”

     “Guess we’re both ready for the loony bin, my friend.”

     Applause resonated through the room. I stood with Mona, hand in hand, in front of the classroom and bowed.

     Mrs. Ambrose smiled. “Ladies, that was a wonderful skit about getting old and facing the possibility of losing some brain power. I just turned sixty and I’m a bit uneasy about what comes next.

     “Okay girls, please turn off the music. It worked for the performance, but we don’t need it now.”

     Sitting in the front row, Jonathan had a perplexed look on his face, as he asked, “What music?”

 

 

Copyright © 2026 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Growing up can be difficult, especially if life has “shaped” you in a way that made you feel like an outcast.

 

As you navigate the sometimes rough seas, at times, you feel as if you are drowning. And then the unexpected happens and . . .

 

 

You Wonder Why

 

     The sky was bright blue. The clouds were beautiful, white, and puffy. A gentle breeze rustled my hair. With my eyes glued to the beauty of nature, I stood in awe.

     “Hey, ‘Marshmallow Man,’ what’re you staring at?” a jock asked in a way that made me shake.

     I felt as if an arrow had pierced my peaceful existence. At seventeen, my pride had been injured once more. The humiliation was overwhelming.

     And then something strange happened. Two large, puffy clouds, with big blue eyes and smiles on their faces, danced through the sky. I no longer felt alone. Then an airplane appeared from behind the clouds dragging a message, “Be yourself. Be strong.”

     “Didn’t you hear me, jerk?” my abuser hollered.

     I sucked in my belly, puffed out my chest, and displayed muscles bulging from my arms—muscles I’d never seen before. Then something I didn’t expect occurred. No longer a boy, I had the strength of a man—a man with a purpose.

     A crowd formed in the schoolyard, but they weren’t laughing at me. They began to applaud. And one yelled, “You’re the man.”

     I wondered why this happened—a potential disaster turning into a “blessing in disguise.” My eyes moved from my mocker and scanned the throng of unanticipated supporters. And with my head held high, I said, “Thank you,” and moved toward a future with promise.

 

 

Copyright © 2026 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Spam phone calls can play havoc with our lives. We try to block them, but somehow they keep coming back.

 

At times, we listen to them, even when we know we shouldn’t. However, it may be hard to avoid an invitation to . . .

 

 

A Family Reunion

 

      It was a dreary Wednesday in January—not the best start for a new year. Heavy rain covered the window, as I sat in an empty Amtrak train car and moved around in the seat trying to get comfortable. My butt hurt like hell and my back itched like an army of ants was crawling up a mountain to my neck. 

      It seemed like I’d been waiting for hours for the train to leave the Roseville station on its way to the Bay Area. I had no idea why or where I was going. I’d received a mysterious message on my cell phone that read, “Come today and your life will change for the better. If you ignore this message, you will regret the outcome. Pay attention to your phone, as you will receive periodic updates instructing you what to do to improve your life.”

      I thought about calling the authorities. But all they’d probably say is that it was a spam message and I should just ignore it. I believed, Maybe I should. But obviously, I didn’t.

      And why was I alone, I questioned. In all the train rides I’d taken in the past, I’d always had trouble finding a seat. And it was 9 am on a work day. Where was everybody? Then, lost in thought, I was propelled back in my seat, as the train began to pull out of the station. I gasped for air and tried to relax.

      As we traveled, I became drowsy. My eyes glazed over and my phone slipped from my hand and slithered down my leg onto the floor. It began to flash bright red. I’d never seen this before. I bent over to pick it up and saw words appearing in large, bold type, “You will soon be joined by others. Treat them as brothers and sisters. Embrace the family reunion.”

      This blew my mind. I was an only child. And my parents abandoned me at the age of two. I spent sixteen of my twenty-seven years in foster care, and never with another child. How do I treat these people as my siblings? I had no idea.

      Then the train lurched to a stop at the Danville Station. I tried to grab the phone off the ground, but it slid down the aisle. I leaned down and dove for it as the car doors opened. Grasping it in my hand, I made my way back to my seat and focused on the people entering the train.

      Six individuals, three men and three women came aboard. All seemed to be in their early- to mid-twenties. A blond-haired man motioned to the others to follow him. They moved to the rear of the car and sat down in a section that had three seats on both sides of a table. Was this a meeting? I thought. None of them looked my way. Either they didn’t notice me or they were ignoring me. How was I to treat them as my relatives, if to them I didn’t exist?

      The car door closed and the train began to move out of the station. Crazy as it seemed, the fact they didn’t focus on me made me feel relaxed. Maybe the messages I received were just an absurd online prank.

      Unable to get this out of my mind, my eyes scanned the table of six. They seemed to be engaged in deep conversation. It was loud enough that I could hear their voices, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. My curiosity rattled my brain and my stomach churned uncontrollably. My desire to find out what was going on got the best of me and I decided I needed to be closer to my “siblings.” 

      With my eyes glued to my phone, I crept toward the table and, inconspicuously, took a seat across from my “relatives.” Now I was in range and could hear what they were saying.

      The blond leader spoke slowly, “Our instructions are clear. I hope all of you have taken the time to review them in the email we received.”

      “I have, Roman, but I’m not sure what they mean. They seem to be orders, but from whom?” Callie queried.

      “Roman, I agree with Callie,” Scotty stated. “Why have we been chosen to do what is being asked?”

      “Yes, why us, Roman?” Katie inquired. “We’re not the police or the FBI.” 

      “Maybe because we’re family,” Justin said in a strong voice that made me shake and almost look toward them.

      “What does family have to do with this?” Jessica shouted.

      “And is what we’re being asked to do even legal?” Callie questioned.

      “That’s a good point. But we’re not being asked to rob a bank or kill somebody,” Roman replied.

      “No, but we might as well have been. We’re being told to change someone’s life. Someone we don’t even know,” Scotty muttered.

      “And who is this person?” Katie asked, in a high-pitched voice.

      “The message indicated we will soon find out,” Roman said.

      “Soon. When’s soon?” Jessica whispered.

      And then they all went quiet. I began to shake. Were they receiving messages from the same person who sent messages to me. Were we related? The question danced through my mind in an unimaginable way.

      Still holding my phone, it began to vibrate. “My, God!” I moaned. Was I getting another message. I hesitated to look, but knew in my heart I didn’t have a choice.

      Gathering up my courage, I stared at my phone screen. The message read, “Reach out to your brothers and sisters. Their and your world is about to change.”

      “No, no,” I muttered. “They’re not my brothers and sisters.”

      Another message appeared on my phone. It stated, “Save them from themselves. Don’t let them do what they can’t undo?”

      This was getting crazier by the minute. What were they going to do? And why was I chosen to protect them from their fate? Then I could hear the voices at the table again. I didn’t want to, but I listened. 

      “Roman, what’s the matter? You’re quivering. What’s going on?” Katie screeched.

      Roman remained silent and stared at his cell phone. He started to bang on the table with unbelievable strength. The others peered at their brother, confused and afraid of what might happen next.

      “What are you doing, Roman?” Jessica queried. “Your scaring me.”

      “We’re all going to Hell. I got the message,” Roman yelled.

      “What are you talking about?” Justin asked forcibly. 

      “We have to kill the demon, the one that will ruin our family,” Roman cried out.

      “But we love each other. We’re sisters and brothers. It’s not one of us, is it?” Callie moaned.

      Roman ignored her and screamed, “I’ve got to do it! It’s our only chance for survival.”

      He pulled a knife from his jacket. Watching this rocked my universe. I had to do something—stop this from happening. Nobody had to die. I needed to save “my family.”

      Unseen, I got up from the table and was about to tackle Roman, when the train door opened from the car in front of ours. A large man wearing a head mic yelled, “Cut,” and applauded. “Great job, cast.” 

      I started to walk away. My job was done or undone, depending on how you looked at it.

      “Young man,” the guy called out and pointed to the cameras on the wall.

      I hadn’t noticed them. He was smiling, and I didn’t know what to say.

      Then he laughed and said, “Thank you for following our prompts on your phone. How would you like to join our family again for our next film shoot?”

      I stood in awe and thought, I guess I’ve been invited to another “family reunion.”         

 

 

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