Everyday Adventures: A Collection of Short Stories and Micro-Fiction

By Eliza Leone

If you could become someone else for each day of your life, would you try it?

What if you could be Icarus and fly with feathered wings? Or participate in a combat arena? Have you ever wondered what the Grim Reaper thinks of his job or how ghosts feel when seeing their loved ones living without them?
Read Nessa and Matty's story of loss and love after a tragedy. See how devoted Angie and Sam are to one another, even if that means hiding their blood connection from the agency.

There are stories of the gods, the evil in the world and within each of us, and how temptation can lead to dangerous paths. Children play among the clouds while another woman enjoys a cup of coffee and the smell of old books.

Everyday Adventures is a collection of one hundred and seventy-five short stories, micro-fiction, and poems spanning multiple genres.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eliza’s Imaginary Adventures LLC
• Release date: May 12, 2024
• ISBN: 9798989398430

Book preview

Everyday Adventures

Everyday Adventures

A Collection of Short Stories and Micro-Fiction

A Collection of Short Stories and Micro-Fiction

First Published by Eliza's Imaginary Adventures LLC 2023

Copyright © 2023 by Eliza Leone ISBN: 979-8-9893984-3-0

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

This book contains drug use, sexual content, explicit language, explicit violence, self-harm or suicide, and other potential triggers.

Books from this Author

Chronicles from Alku

The Final Keeper Trilogy

Keeper's Reign - Book 1

Other stories

Everyday Adventures

A collection of short stories and micro-fiction

For the girl too scared to write, but too scarred not to.

Contents

A Wise Boy's Sacrifice for Grandma

Baby Booties and Ghostly Duties

My Queen Bey

$258 Million Reasons to be You

20 20 Hindsight

Black

A Bit Like Linus

A Foot in Both Worlds

Betrayal in Times of War

A Fresh Start

A Mugging

A Lonely Escort

A Mother's Pain

Baring it All

An Unknown Sacrifice

A Merger with Mr. Jones

A Bitter Taste

Collarless and Classy

Business Circuit

A New Path

Conrad

Blood Isn’t Always Thicker

Darnel Rangroth

A Night in the French Quarter

A Presidential Pardon

Darnel's Brush With Death

Humans vs Drones

A Sticky Situation

And Then There was One

Cry with the Rain

Approved

Driving Lessons

Arms of Mist

Dearest Jane

Fortune Cookies

Boy's Best Friend

A New Adventure

Gifts From the Grave

Casualties of War

Desperation

Agency Rules

Four Lost Souls

Bro Call

Dream Robbing

If Everyone Knew What I was Thinking

Hibernation

Buzz

Bachelor Pad Problems

Dorm Room Drama

Mother and Father Nature

Fated Pair

Deterioration

Mama's Chili

Dirty Martini

Going a New Direction

Cherished

No Matter the Size

Beverage Therapy

Humans and AI

One Day at a Time

Life Changes

BzzzzZZZZzZZzzz

An Intimate Meal

Listen to your Mother

Leave your Problems at Home

One Boulder at a Time

Mass Extinction

Master Koren

Medical Log: 784

Naughty Prey

Nice Prey

Negotiations

Numb

Castles and Guns

Out With The Old

Changing the Crop

Parental Pressure

Checkmate

Perfect

Christmas Calm

Physical Memories

Commander's Orders

Reply-All

Family Reunion

The Boy in the Trees

Sacred Promises

Invasion of Privacy

Differing Priorities

Secrets in the Dark

Double Double Crossed

Spring Break

Dripping

Stolen Things and Stolen Time

The Sapphire's Cargo

Fighting for Love

Meeting Madam Artha

Sunrise

Helping an Urchin

Surgeon What?

Immortal Beauty

Surprises for Charlie

Instantly Sobering

The Arena

Jeremy and Rachel

The End of Days

Mother Nature's Grief

Little Lessons

The Lonely Manor

Meeting Tenzi te Xiion

The Stranger

Memories for Eternity

The Unwilling Sailor

Missing Mrs. Brawnshall

There’s Something in the Rafters

Missy Anne Magoo

Thia and Hiyu

Things You Never Forget

Mysterious Man, Mysterious Cart

Today Would Be My Last

Dark Secrets

No Other Reason

Unheard Apologies

Everyone for Themselves

Pain

Unknowing Execution

Family Secrets

Patience

Unspoken Words

Ivy

Persecution

Unwelcome Visitors

Keeping Carl Safe from Harm

Second-hand Benefits

To Serve Him

Midnight Musings

Selling G

The Tale of Icarus

Musings of an Old Man

Shielded

Pattern Side Down

Not so Imaginary Adventures

Strength, Courage and Confidence

Whispers to the Heart

Old Book Smell

Tears

Misplaced Heart

My Life was a Lie

Pasta Time

The Art of Tagging

Memory Manipulation

The Proposal

Seeing the World Through Another's Eyes

The Future Calls

Milkshakes and Memories

Smooth, Sleek, and Perfect

The Magician's Apprentice

No One Misses the Homeless

Tennessee

The Mercy of Silence

One Not So Quiet Night

The Bargain

Recipies for Success

The Press Release

The Tiny Cottage

To be Good... or to be Evil...

The Vow

There's an Alien in my Bathtub

Undeserving Attention

They're Back

Tiny Leaves

Twenty-Seven Years Alone

Unspoiled by Excess

Whispers from a New God

XK9-2701

Mother's Memories

A Wise Boy's Sacrifice for Grandma

Dad, do I have to get my haircut?

I looked down at my eight-year-old son, his dark hair tucked behind his ears. It's so long. Why don't you want to cut it?

He blushed and looked away from me.

Spence... I knelt beside him, the flow of people in the mall parting around us and our private moment.

Yeah, Dad? he asked. When his eyes finally met mine, they were filled with shimmering, un-shed tears.

Why don't you want to cut your hair, son?

Spence sniffled, I just don't wanna cut it.

I continued to stare at him, and eventually, he fidgeted uncomfortably and began to speak again.

Grandma needs it. She's sick.

This was the last thing I expected him to say. Wait, Spence, tell me what you mean?

He tucked his arms behind his back and began to fidget more as he spoke. Gram needs it. Her hair is falling out.

My cute, sweet boy. I smiled at my life's joy. And how will you not cutting your hair help Grandma?

They can make it into a wig for her.

I was shocked. How an eight-year-old got so wise and was so kind, I will never know. I stood and took his hand, Come on, Spence, let's get some ice cream.

His smile lit up the mall as we walked in the direction away from the hair salon.

Baby Booties and Ghostly Duties

Oh, look, Donia!

I look over to where my mother is holding a tiny pair of baby booties.

These were your brother’s. Look how tiny he was.

"Damn, it, Mom, I’m right here."

I can’t help but roll my eyes, and Mom sighs, thinking it was because of her.

I still miss him, you know.

Of course you do, Mom. He’s still your baby.

My brother walks behind her, looks down at the shoes, and shrugs. There’s no way I was ever that small.

With ease from years of practice, I echo his words, Was he ever that small?

Of course he was! My little man was so tiny. He always was, really. Well, up until high school. You remember when he went through his growth spurt, right?

My brother winces, his shimmer flickering slightly. Ow.

Yeah, he hurt a lot, I respond, as he would have.

Yup, poor kid. Nothing but Advil and time could heal that. She brings the booties to her chest and hugs them, the leather creaking in the quiet basement. I felt so helpless.

Aw man, Mom, it wasn’t your fault. I scoot over and wrap my arms around her, abandoning the box I was sorting to hug her shoulders. Not at all.

It wouldn’t be the last time I wasn’t good enough.

We jolt away from her, shouting simultaneously, Just don’t go there.

I didn’t need to hear my brother’s input or opinion since I agreed. My Mom deflates, and I know where this is going.

It was an accident, Mom, stop it. His ghostly arm snakes around her shoulders, and he pinches one of her arms. She scratches the muscle but thinks nothing of it.

I know, dear, but a mother always replays something like this, trying to figure out what she could have done differently. Dr. Samuels said I’m no different.

And does he say it’s healthy?

She pauses before shaking her head minutely.

So stop it. He’s fine.

She watches as I stare off over her shoulder.

He wouldn’t want you to live like this.

A few unshed tears fill her eyes before spilling down her cheeks. She sniffles and dashes them away. I know. With one last squeeze, she places the booties in bubble wrap and into the box next to her. I know.

I lock eyes with my brother, who starts to fade in and out., "I’m sorry. You two finish up. I’ll be back later. Love you."

I love you.

Love you, too, sweetheart, my Mom smiles as my brother fades.

My Queen Bey

Bey? the lanky blond woman inquired of the suited man next to her. You named me Bey?

The tall and very handsome man grinned ear to ear. I did! Don't you love it!

I get a new name, and you picked Bey?

After my Queen! Yes! He fluttered his long lashes at her before nudging her shoulder with his own.

You're kidding. Tell me you're kidding.

James. Manders. My office! a balding, overweight man shouted from down the hall. Now!

Jessica James stood a bit straighter before she rolled her eyes at her partner, Manders, sometimes I really hate you.

Naw, he denied, fanning himself when he caught up with her, you could never!

She knew he was right, but she wasn't going to tell him that. Come on, twinkle toes before the boss man decides against giving this assignment to us.

Shit, you're right. Manders increased his pace until they were in step with one another. You don't think he'll actually pull us off, do you?

You named me Bey. I may beg him to.

Manders frowned, and she felt only the slightest hint of guilt. He deserved it. Flamboyant jerk. If only he could love someone named Rachel or Stephanie, not…Bey.

She stepped into her commanding officer's office. You wanted to see us, Sir?

Yes, sit down…Bey, he said with a sparkling smile.

$258 Million Reasons to be You

What are you going to do with all of it? Angie asked me in bed one night. We'd just finished the best take-out sushi in the city and drank a bottle of champagne while watching the newest action flick on our dinky TV.

Hm, I pretended to ponder, I think I might ask my girlfriend to marry me.

Rachael, I'm serious, Angie scolded and playfully swatted my arm.

I rolled over onto my elbows and stuck my nose against hers, I am being serious. Marry me, Angie.

Of course! she squealed, kissing me deeply until she pulled away. Wait, what about your parents?

What about them? I'd invite them, of course.

Rachael, they will disown you when they find out about me. Angie looked down at her hands with a frown.

So let them. I stuck my face in her downcase line of sight, We don't need their money anymore. $258 million means that I can keep those who I love and love me in my life and still be myself.

But they want grandchildren, she glanced away again. I've heard your mom talk about it.

Baby… it's the twenty-first century. There's adoption, surrogacy, or other options.

You'd really do that? For me?

She finally looked at me again, and Angie's eyes sparkled, and I could tell she had tears close to the surface.

I'd do anything for you. I love you. I kissed the tip of her nose.

I love you, too.

20 20 Hindsight

I'm sorry he lied to you, child.

Fathers should never do such a thing to their children.

The reason for his hospitalization was not due to a brain tumor on the optic nerve but rather an episode of methamphetamine overdose. His amygdala and hippocampus have been irreparably damaged. In the future, you'll see a change in him. His emotion control will fluctuate between what you know him to be and that of a bipolar schizophrenic. He will also have a problem controlling his memories. Some things will stay with him and remain clear. Others will be twisted.

I know it's been years since this first occurred, but I assure you, you'll get through this in time. He's still suffering, spurred on by his hatred for you and your abandonment of him.

Oh, I know that's not what really happened, but his drug-addled mind does not. Just let him stew in his anger and continue to live your life. He'll heal in time, maybe not in the way you're hoping, but you'll be rid of him and be free to love your children and family without fear of him holding you in his grasp.

Black

Black.

It was all I knew.

When I was a little girl, I committed a crime.

I killed a man.

Day in and day out since I was sentenced to this cell. Darkness surrounded me, and the stale, dank air choked me. I hadn’t seen the sun in I don’t know how long. I’d been down there too long to count. If there even was a way to keep track.

Every day, never at the same time, a guard lowered a tray of food to me with my cell’s dumbwaiter. I use the term food loosely, though. The tin cup of water and the small chewy bar of nutrients could hardly have been called a meal. I’d received thousands of those sustenance deliveries during my time incarcerated, and even after all that time, they had never grown on me.

My endless hours were spent in that cell. Alone, unable to see, and in silence unless I decided otherwise. Sometimes, I spoke to myself and made up stories or words, but most of the time, I just sat there.

My cell contained nothing. There was no need for blankets, for they kept the temperature equalized. I was afforded no mattress to sleep on or pillows for my head. Clothing was unneeded. No one would ever see my body again. There wasn’t even a toilet or chamber pot provided. The dietary supplements were designed to keep us alive but were efficient enough that our bodies didn’t produce waste.

What a glorious time for science that our civilization prioritized technology over eliminating disease and healing the extinction crisis.

My life was dull. Endless. Lonely.

But I had a life.

I was not executed for my crime, primarily because of my age and the circumstances in which I committed it. Defending oneself against an underground human trafficker was apparently a positive for civilization, but justice still needed to be upheld.

So, my sentence was lessened.

Life underground. Ironic, isn’t it?

Then, one day, everything changed.

My nutrients were lowered just like every other time, except, this time, there was a capsule and an extra tin of water. A lifetime of imprisonment conditions a human. I didn’t hesitate. I took the pill and drank the extra water ration.

Sometime later, I awoke in a dim room, lying on a metal table and strapped down. Two shapes hovered over me, but I could only squint, my eyes so atrophied that the bright lights caused steering pain. My ears were also hypersensitive, and I could hear the men breathing. The feel of the metal table and the straps rubbed my naked flesh raw. The air in the room was so pure that I was having trouble breathing it, and my head was starting to feel dizzy.

My body didn’t know how to function outside my cell, but that was fine. I was never supposed to leave it.

That’s when they told me.

I had been poisoned.

I had died.

I didn’t know how to feel emotions anymore. No panic, or fear, or curiosity. I just laid there. They told me I had been in my cell for over two hundred years, and when they realized I wasn’t going to die of natural causes, they executed me.

Only it hadn’t worked.

I had returned to life a mere twelve hours later, and I didn’t look a day over thirty.

A deep voice joined the conversation from behind my head but out of sight. He told me I was being offered a deal. I would be released as I had served more than a lifetime sentence, but only under the condition that they could study me. I would be compensated and housed. Fed and clothed, but they would own me.

I’d awoken to an offer for a different kind of prison.

I said yes.

A Bit Like Linus

"You have got to wear these!" Brandy held a pair of red stilettos aloft.

Won't they clash with my sweater? I pull on the front of my favorite sweater, heather gray and softer than anything.

"Monica, you are not wearing that."

Why not? It's my favorite.

The elbows are thinned, the waist is stretched out, and there's a hole on the back.

There is? I pull it off over my head and inspect it with micro precision.

Left shoulder blade.

I turn the garment quickly, running my fingers over the fabric, wincing when I feel the hole. Oh no….

Face it. Besides, you're changing anyway. Just let me pick out your outfit.

I sit on the edge of my bed, sweater clutched in my hands like a fallen brother, But….

Brandy sits beside me and puts her hand over mine, Monica, it's just a sweater.

I sniffle, suddenly and inexplicably lost in my sorrow for my fallen comrade.

Come on, up you get. Brandy pulls me to my feet and gently pries the sweater from my hand. I follow it with my eyes as she sits it on the dresser.

I'll make you a deal. If you wear something else for tonight, I'll send it out to be patched and fixed.

I look from my grey sweater to the red shoes, still in Brandy's hand. I gulp once and turn to my friend, now a traitor. You promise? I narrow my gaze.

Of course!

I turn my back on my fallen friend and take the red shoes, Let’s get this over with.

A Foot in Both Worlds

She tiptoed past the sleeping angels, fairies, and woodland creatures. In one hand, she clutched her robes, and in the other, a compass. A nymph was nothing without their robes and compass.

Everyone laughed at her and her green hair, for usually, nymphs had hair the color of golden wheat or mahogany wood, but not her. Her hair was the shade of moss growing on the north side of trees. It was said in their village that she was what happened with the gods intermingled. She understood where they came from, as she was both a nymph and an elf. She spent her entire life straddling both sides of her races, never accepted by one or the other. The wood elves treated her with respect and a godly level of affection, for having a green-haired elf was said to be a gift from the gods. At the same time, the nymphs saw her as blasphemous and a tainted abomination.

As she slipped from the den, careful not to wake any other sleeping inhabitants around her, she made her way out into the night. Her dress clung to her skin, and she sighed in relief once she was far enough away. Being alone and one with nature was the only solitude she felt.

Elves did not sleep, and this was something she was thankful to have inherited from their bloodline. She spent her days with the nymphs and nights with the elves, sneaking back to her bedroll before dawn or anyone noticed. Only the elves knew of her secret night outings. It had to be that way, or the nymphs would banish her. She could not leave her home and her family. No matter how much of an outcast she was. The nymphs were just as much a part of her as the elves.

As she walked, bark cracked under her feet, and the night birds chirped around her. The moon was high, and the wind whistled subtly as it blew through the trees.

Jesup! called her best friend Rosemary from across the clearing. The tall, lithe woman stood on her tiptoes, arms flailing, and she smiled ear to ear. Jesup! Hurry up, we're going to be late!

Jesup slipped her compass into her pocket before pulling up her hood and reaching the excited elf. What do you mean we're going to be late?

"Come on, come on. I