Ben Healy

Ben Syverson

Kristen Myers

Meredith Adams

Sam Becker

No one expects to get married on their 93rd birthday, but here we are.

The first time I saw Bill, he was in his dress whites, waving a newspaper on V-E Day. That was before the bomb, before our fight, before a silence that lasted 70 years.

Bill wrote me letters, at least for the first few months. He tried to make the front lines sound more bearable than they probably were and asked for pictures of our dog, Gilda.

That Bill, what a beautiful idiot. Everyone knows that Gilda doesn’t photograph well and just looks like a dark shape with ears. Pictures like that just make a war seem worse.

Gilda’s awkward portrait had been shared far and wide. She was basically a meme at this point. And yet, somehow, she was still leading in the polls. Now and again she would think to call Bill, her ex-campaign manager/amateur photographer, but inevitably couldn’t find the words.

Feeling a little lonely, she opened her laptop and turned back to that energy policy speech she had been meaning to finish.

Her life had been a bit of a whirlwind ever since Pete Buttigieg asked her to be head speechwriter. Her Pod Save America interview led to more interviews, and now she could scarcely find time to put together a simple energy policy stump speech.

Pressed for time, she multitasked, hitting “print” on the final draft of her speech while inhaling a messy slice of pizza. “Whoops,” she said, as pizza sauce dripped onto the page and obscured the first few sentences. She gave the notes to Pete anyways as he walked onstage.

Pete walked to the lectern and set down his notes. He’d just finished working the crowd when he noticed a greasy smear of tomato sauce obscuring the top of his speech. Pete panicked and said the first thing that came to mind, “Iowa, you deserve better. I must use the restroom.”

Pete fled to the men's room. After taking a moment to get his bearings, he realized he was in the most magnificent restroom in all of Iowa.

An indoor waterfall cascaded onto a flat gilded rock, sending a spray of warm rosewater into the shower—which was large enough for two horses. A tuxedoed attendant handed Pete a flute of Cava, pointing to a secluded grotto lit by candelabra. "If nature should call," he clarified…

"...DON'T ANSWER THE PHONE."

Then he stole Pete's wine and ran away.

Pete looked down with despair. He had nothing left except the scent of failure. Next he did the only sensible thing he could think of. He made a mental list of all the people who had wronged him.

Once he was done, he mentally crumpled the list. Mayor Pete pulled out his phone. It was too late for him, but maybe it wasn’t too late for his speechwriter. He texted her two words: “Forgive him.”

Her phone buzzed. She looked at the message on its screen. "Ugh, ok, fine," she texted back.

"ARGHUGHHH," responded Mayor Pete. She knew that this meant "thank you, friend."

By this time the mayor was long gone, cruising in a helicopter off the coast of Japan, his trusty cat, Pepperoni, by his side. As promised, Gilda had come through, saving Pete from the cruel, often barbaric, world of civic politics. Pete was scarred but ready to begin life anew.

Gilda Radner-Dog: A Political Life

Victoria Hammel

Rietje Becker

The subway doors opened and a mob of costumed tweens rushed in. There were a few superheroes, one pumpkin, two skeletons, and a lanky grim reaper. Madeline was already quite late for work and had a bad feeling about this ride. Where was their chaperone?

She considers joining the group but her snout senses deliciousness across the hinge. Her tail wags as she gets closer to the scent coming from beneath a cape on the floor - one of the superhero’s must have lost it. She lifts the cape and bites into the bun when she finds herself

magically transformed into a guinea pig! Her legs suddenly feel so short and she can feel her belly touching the floor. She feels so vulnerable now that she is unable to move with the agility of her dog body. The bun tastes good though. So worth it, despite the

loss of her fluffy tail. Finishing the bun, she looks across the room to see another guinea pig standing in a doorway. The stranger slips inside as she waddles over to investigate. Hesitantly, she peeks behind the door to see

a tan and white guinea pig conveyor belting a lettuce leaf into his little pink mouth. A white guinea pig appears next to her, like a cotton ball with two red beads for eyes. It scooches closer, their eyes almost touching and whispers, "Get out of here before it's too late."

The two rodents scurried as the huge hand entered the cage and began probing through the shavings. The plumper guinea pig hid under a faded green sandcastle while the nimbler one opened a trap door she had been clandestinely installing for months, careful gnaw by careful gnaw.

Suddenly the trap door flips up side down and the nimble guinea pig gets access to it‘s secret underground laboratory. A number of ingredients are neatly sitting on a shelf. Thinking about how to fight the hand and Save everybody else, the guinea pig starts mixing ingredients.

The guinea pig knows just what to do. In what seems like minutes, her small paws mix four vials. The mixture turns gray and smoky. She gets on the table with considerable effort and then she drinks it. The room gets blurry as she transforms yet again.

Her vision clears to reveal a mirror, and she lurches toward it. It can’t be. But as she moves, the beautiful figure mirrors her actions perfectly. It’s unmistakable. She has transformed into Jeff Goldblum, circa 1985, in peak physical condition.

Metamorphosis

Sean King

Zahin Ali

The pool glistened with promise. Gabi walked along the edge, scanning the scene. Today was a special day. Stan, the lifeguard she had her eye on, was back from vacation. She had spent the past two weeks planning a perfect scenario that was sure to turn his head.

Stan leaned back in his lifeguard chair and regally surveyed his aquatic fiefdom. He had been working out all summer and positively knew he’d be attracting attention. Eventually, Stan’s gaze settled on Gabi, the senior aerobics instructor, who was beginning to behave strangely.

Gabi was wear a pink bathing suit, standing on one leg in the shallow end of the kiddie pool. Whipping her head left to right, then back again, she gave out a high squawk. Stan realized something very important about Gabi:

She was a flamingo in a bikini. He'd never thought of her that way before though he had heard the phrase "Just a bird." tossed around by his friends and family. He had thought of her as something more, a companion, maybe a soulmate. Now he saw feathers tinged by brine shrimp.

He is dripping wet when he awakes from his dream, but released to find his girlfriend laying next to him. He lays his arm around her and wants to kiss her, but she suddenly starts coughing. He can’t believe his eyes when he sees the pink feathers coming out of her mouth.

These feathers form a small pink pile on the floor where a baby flamingo emerges. In complete awe, the couple are frozen. This flamingo knows all, see’s all, and and can speak. “I shall take you to where you desire to go.” And with that, the trio set off on the next journey.

Meredith Adams
@meredithadams

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Meredith Adams@meredithadams

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Meredith Adams
@meredithadams

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