Wax shimmered as it reflected the overhead light causing it to gleam back into Balkur's eyes. He smiled at himself and took a step back to check his appearance in the dresser mirror. His dark gray suit perfectly pressed without a wrinkle fitted his muscular body well, the black shoes shined with each step, and his ten inch, dark red horns shone with a brilliance that outshined everything else. The last coat of wax had finished off the affect and Balkur felt ready to leave for his first day on the new job. It was the perfect job for him. He would have an office shared with one other person, it was in the field of his degree and in something he loved to do and close to home so the commute wouldn't be bad. The employer only hinted at there being one major drawback but he wouldn't elaborate.


Walking out of his house Balkur could barely hide the spring in his step as he walked the sidewalk, following a flow of foot traffic from in which he got several glances from blue skinned beauties, toward the office. Balkur had been unemployed for the last four months and had visited the unemployment office, just the office to him because he refused to admit that he was unemployed he rather stated that he was merely searching and contemplating better career options without the distraction of labor, each week looking for an open job. The best, and worst, part of the whole scenario was the woman that worked and the office was the most beautiful demon Balkur had ever laid eyes on. Perfect blue skin, terrific personality and she even flirted back a little with him. Of course what chance would an unemployed demon have with someone so perfect? Today was going to be different. He had found this job without the help of the Unemployment Office but was going to use them to give him transportation to the new job. He wanted to make sure that the woman of his dreams, Mazmurela, could see that he had taken care of himself and could take care of her. The extra coat of wax on his horns had been just for her.

Mr. Deminger leaned back in his ergonomically-correct chair and turned to face his charming view. Downtown sprawled beneath him. The beetles scuttled for scraps, trapped in the throes of a death that never quite comes. The corners of his lips twitched as he thought of those unemployed in the backwash of GM’s surrender. Precisely centered, a tower of applications waited to intimidate this day’s horde. The last one left a bit early, mascara running down her cheeks. His lips spread into an unnatural expression.

A thought - born of guilt perhaps, or shame - skimmed his mind. An over-furnished suite awaited him on the upper-east side. He would leave his temple to spend another night alone, with a bottle of claret, or two, his only companionship. While she, whoever she was, would retreat to the sanctuary of family and home.

His fingers curled, as if to cup a wine glass, and he turned to face the door. Soon it would open. Soon he’d have another over-eager wannabe squirming in the leather chair, at the edge of the seat, knees together, trying oh-so-hard not to appear nervous.

Staff in hand and newly found confidence in his step, the brown-robed young man crossed the sandy distance divorcing him from his destination and soon stood at the foot of the book, a note of inspiration the only proclivity animating his half-scarf-shielded eyes. The remains of the prior Gatekeeper's elements-ruined lodging a sure sign how long The Gatekeeper's protective bubble had been disincorporated; the loss of The Word, no matter how brief, decomposed purpose but not resolve. With a whispered command, Draycon-Ed expanded his personal bubble of protection, encapsulating the Emerald Tablet. The quiet storm subsided, surrendering to solace.

Earlier than now, The Word had come to the great globe city Atraulus, coalescing within the Informalert Tubestry, the Message enlightening the One-Minded-One that the Gatekeeper was losing cohesion and a replacement urgently needed. Confounded over who this replacement might or could be, the Gatekeeper's Word strongly imparticulated that there was one such youth, fully pro-visionaried, located in the Droo-Ed Quarter: Draycon-Ed, esteemed in the Droo-Edical Lexigraphic Significations and Absorptions.

It's time for a new contest for May through June 2009.

The topic for this one is "Get A Job".

In these tough economic times what would you do to get a job?
What kind of job would you take? Would you take any job? Even if..

Who is trying to get what kind of job is up to you.
The focus is on getting a new job in a sci-fi, fantasy or horror setting.

Joe applies for a job at the new plant in town only to find out...
A demon is trying to get that promotion or demotion by...
Maybe there is no job, its just a trick to get people to apply in person so that...
You might not know exactly what kind of job it is from an ad saying...
It's your dream job! Except for that pesky...


As always have fun!

(1000 words or less - contest closes June 15 2009)