Lagrimas

Sometimes I close the curtains drawn
To shade my irritated eyes
From twilight, noonday sun, and dawn,
And the joy that the light belies.

With my curtains and shutters closed,
I wash the windows of my soul;
I’d washed them not, were I exposed,
Lest hypocrites come to console.

Indeed, no one should see just how
Vulnerable I am washing
Them in the darkness and shadow
With my salty buckets sloshing.

Thus I defy optimism—
The light that would have me believe
That to not preach idealism
Would be quite absurd and naïve,

That should I block out its bright light
E’en temporarily, ‘twould be
Useless. It misconstrues my plight
Since its very brilliance shows me

The specks and smudges and smears that
Caused me to wash in the first place.
It’s time to draw the curtains back,
Since manhood can now show its face.

Pummelos

Pummelos, with their citric smell,
Make me live in memories past
When I was still a little child
With no hopes innocence would last,

Nor a hope Christmas would bring
The coveted toys of all the rest.
A pummelo was my present then,
And I considered myself blest.

My family gathered around me and
The well-adorned, emblazoned tree,
Whose twinkling lights are like the souls
Of those passing in and out of humanity.

I was hardened by poverty, death,
Friendlessness, and low self-esteem,
So any gifts beyond the pummelo
Would be a suspicious dream.

The surreal chanced as, awkwardly,
I accepted some stranger’s gift
Out of the box on the doorstep
Left in hopes our spirits to lift.

The whatnots animated us,
According to our childish nature,
But proved a bit unsettling to
My pride strong and mature.

How dare they think us poor?
They needn’t think; it was the truth.
How is it I ruined their efforts
With feelings wild and uncouth?

How is it the cherished present
Was one I’d resigned myself to,
While such trinkets as I’d wanted
Became meaningless anew?

I sat and slowly ate my pummelo,
And its tartness has stayed with me
And caused me to resent gifts given
For sympathy of my poverty.

The years have died like many men,
But, unlike men, will not come back,
But remind me when I had naught
There was nothing that I did lack.

Tracking Your Influences

I can see where your paw prints lay
As lazy as sleeping cattle;
You left them in the sand one day
After the rain’s recent battle.

By such deluges freshly strewn,
The sand was begging to be trod;
Its past impressions picayune
And temp’rary will have no laud.

You’re all I see in silica,
Joining a collection of tracks
In this woodland basilica
That droppings as well scarcely lacks.

Amid desperate survival,
I can just make out the faint signs,
Left long ere the land grew nival,
Of passers through my copse of pines.

By some means they have persevered
The erosive forces of time,
Perchance ’cause their impact endeared
Them, or their acts were much maligned.

Regardless, they’re but faint mem’ries,
Unlike the lunar footprints found
That will last through eternities,
Long after I cease to be ’round.

Mem’ry No Longer Avails

I travel alone winding trails
That I’m certain I’ve trod before,
But mem’ry no longer avails.
The past’s paths are myths, legends, lore,

And stories I would fain believe
Were I not wary of the snare;
For confusion and fact do cleave
Like fresh lovers watched unaware.

Now, I know not what I should trust,
Since man’s mortal, and love is frail.
But is it wrong to love a lie
When real history’d be a hell?

I can see how I would have crossed
Through the leaves and over the ridge
To see the imagined sights lost
By entering the covered bridge.

I see myself wrapped up in bliss,
Her hair and dress flowing, twirling,
And ‘neath the ridge we wait and kiss,
Hidden to the world that’s whirling.

We separate. I’ll come again
To see her, my heart’s decided.
Why lose her to another man?
In deception, I’ll be prided.

Look how I am covering up
The evidence of my coming.
Surely that must be why I feel
So compelled to break out running,

Certain as a groundhog’s senses
That spring is shortly due to be.
I run to her, but find fences.
Sorrow streams alluvially.

Once more to the path I return,
Quite uncertain what is real.
Why can fantasy make me burn,
Confounding the ways that I feel?

Why can’t life be hon’rable as
Fleeting dreams prematurely dead?
It fails, despite the time it has,
So I’ll prefer to dream instead.

I can make up my destinies,
No matter what I’ve been slated;
When reality mutinies,
I can muse, like it’s been fated.

For only safe within my dreams
Can I ever be satisfied,
For what is man? Truly, it seems,
Misery till the day he’s died.

The Zenith of Oblivion

The success of my oblivion
I shall never surpass,
Should I scribe an epic
For each lad and lass.

Oblivion is my acme,
Zenith, and bounteous yield.
In it the greatness of my
Characters was developed and revealed.
Compared to it all else
Lies as a barrenly fallow field.

Nothing else could achieve
Oblivion’s universality;
Everyone can attribute
It to me.
Should even a few recognize
Other works my pen doth decree,
Oblivion’s numbers grow daily
As the flora in the lee.

Omnivenicient

Empowered with my Venetian sight,
I longingly peer through blinds
Into a rustic courtyard, emptiness, where
My vision has spilled, is present in many kinds.

The slate sky suspended distantly away
Has abandoned its loving rains.
Lonely, it has become sorrowfully blue;
The colour of one who complains.

Solemn oaks and willows have lost
The intimate company of wind,
Who must journey wherever Solaris’s
Heated passions fickly send.

No living being with a soul
Takes refuge in the exposure
And have instead forsaken the courtyard
For the sheltered brick enclosure

That stands formidably and,
As a turtle, low to the ground.
The base foundation has been painted
By the deluge’s silt that has browned.

Lo, movement stirs beneath the catwalk
Roofed with one rippled tin segment undone.
Like wildfire over thick humus, they
Blaze a rampant course as they run

From the battered black double doors
To the innards of the cafeteria’s walls.
One of these few streaking teens
Stumbles, slips, and slickly falls.

As if arisen from the dead,
The ravenous youth moistly stands
And angrily chases those who’ve fled
Madly for nomadic sustenance.

With his jeaned departure all is still,
And fallen oak leaves are left alone
In plastered heaps of rusty brown
Where by wind and rain they’ve been blown.

But the solitude interwoven departs
With the stampede of unaware pupils
Boisterously speaking, without hearts,
Cold words and jokes and lack of thought.

The lips do move, as do their legs,
But neither makes audible sound.
The promise of edible confetti leads
Them targetedly across the ground.

Despairing as they all pass by
Without a word or acknowledgment,
I feel battered by ostracism.
Of what do I need repent?

A peculiarly unfitting sight has caused
Me from my thoughts to be awoke.
This herd has a straggler;
She’s halted near an weathered oak.

The wind, who has newly returned
At this time of mortal repast,
Speaks mildly to his leaféd cronies—
Presumably about adventures passed.

The interaction of conversation
Stirs the residential dew of the leaves
Which gravely by gravity mattes
The red covering of where she conceives.

As if she can feel mine eyes,
Glazed from staring observations,
Upon me has she fixed
A glance of considering consternation.

Alone, I slink back to my comrades
Treading the boards where all can see
The illusions I represent while still
Being unable to perceive me.

It’s the Goodbyes That Count

Why is it we struggle for
Fame and immortality?
For, in the end, all will be
Forgotten, lamentably.

Some carve one’s name to etch out
A permanence that will give
The world and generations a
Reminder that once one did live.

But why fret over a lasting name
When everything will be destroyed?
Oblivion at the world’s destruction
Can neither Shakespeare or Plato avoid.

Perhaps to spite this, we humans
Attempt to try to have fame?
But renown upon this earth
Is meaningless and a shame.

When ev’rything must be forgotten in
Order for the next generations to
Have a feeling of desolation and
Accomplishment, just as with me and you.

Thus, thoughts are meaningless, since none
Are original, but have been
Shared by generations who have
Died, as we all will in the end.

The only controllable things
Are our eked out lives, after all,
Since we cannot control how we will be
Remembered, if, indeed, we are at all.

It would be well to make the most
Of this power and cultivate
Friends, acquaintances, and
Envy, greed, love, and hate.

But be sure to set things aright when
At the end of associations,
For it’s been said a dying man
May at the end take salvation

In the last hour, no matter the
Actions. There is hope until it’s gone
With one and the fare-thee-wells
That will render one alone.

If one should ever wish to live, then
Memory is such a crucial key.
Like the Ghost of King Hamlet,
One’s actions must cry, “Remember me!”

How can one be assured
A life in recollections?
I say it’s not best done
Through wealth and perfections,

For people recall most vividly
Births, funerals, and separations
And forget the bulk of life’s
Events’ conglomeration.

And because we’ll ne’ermore be as
We all are here at this right now,
We should honour and make the most of
The occasion before saying, “Ciao.”

Wish you all luck and happiness
And truly hope you will have found
That, though together we may have grown
For a time, it’s the goodbyes that count.

War of the Roses

Roses on a thorny stem
Living in beauty and splendor
Unfolded to perfume the world.
They are called to arms
To fight a futile war
That shall end them
Time is an unfair opponent
With all of the advantages
And all the time in the world to fight
The roses wither and blacken
Lose their beauty to an unkind age
The waning minion of time
Cut from the stem
They enjoy a decomposing rot
Joy they wouldn’t have had, had they fought not
The roses still blossom
Blossom to wither and die
Fighting the same war as you and I

Weed

They grow up in adversity, always hated.
Others are not happy until their lives have dissipated.
But what makes them less special than a rose?
Marry, they’re much nicer, sans the thorns it grows.
Picked and sprayed and from soil freed
Lives the fittest of Nature’s breed,
The outcast, the eyesore, the weed.

A Teenage Girl in the Garden of Eden

“Gosh, guys are so frustrating! It’s like I’m not even here! I wish that I could just be in a place where things were a little simpler,” she screamed into her pillow.

After screaming a few more times, she decided that she would call her friend and vent to her. Maybe they could make up some juicy gossip to spread around school about Dan. He was just making her life miserable, and he deserved anything that they could come up with. She lifted her head, and was shocked to see that someone had redecorated her room.

“Horrible motif,” she said, getting up to look around the room. “This is just creepy. How did my room change so drastically? Those leaves look almost realistic.”

A bird came by flying beside some butterflies.

“I must be on one of those reality shows. This isn’t funny guys. I want my boy band posters back now!”

But no one seemed to hear her.

“This is really bizarre. Mom would have normally been up here to tell me to stop screaming by now. I would have already slammed the door in her face, too. Where is my door anyhow?”

Nowhere in the vegetation could she find her door.

“This place is just bizarre. Let’s see what is here.”

As she walked, she was taken with the beauty of the place. It was nice, in an outdoorsy, earthy kind of way. A mall would have been far better. But there were plenty of animals. It was like a zoo without cages or annoying little kids and horrid smells. Plenty of fruit hung on the trees. As she wound her ways through this paradise state, she ran into a man. Boy, was he gorgeous.

“Hi, who are you?” he asked.

She didn’t know what to say at first. She was still in shock. Here was the most handsome man that she had ever seen. But he wasn’t wearing any clothes. She was sure that she was four shades of red.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, obviously worried about the color-shifting creature.

“I, um, yes. I’m okay. I just wasn’t expecting to find anyone else here in this naked, um, neck of the woods.”

“Oh, I know what you mean. I wasn’t expecting to see you either. Usually it’s just Eve and I. So, you’re new here then?”

“Yep. Just got off the boat.”

“There was a boat?” he said, his eyes getting wide. “Can I see it?”

“No, not really. It’s just an expression,” she said, still trying to keep eye contact.

“Oh, that’s too bad. What’s your name?”

“Yurisa.”

“Hi, Yurisa. That’s a nice name. My name is Adam.”

“Adam? Your name is Adam? Is this some kind of joke?”

“No, it’s really Adam. Have you heard of me or something?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’ve heard of you and Eve.”

“Are you an angel?”

“You sure are sweet.”

“I am?”

“Oh, never mind. It’s just an expression.”

“You sure are different,” Adam said. “Nothing like Eve.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure we have some things in common.”

“Oh, I guess. But Eve doesn’t talk funny like you do. She doesn’t have whatever it is that you’re wearing either. What’s it called?”

“Oh, this?” Yurisa asked, pointing to herself. “These are clothes.”

“Why would you want clothes?”

“To cover yourself up, so you won’t be naked.”

“Doesn’t seem like it’s too necessary to wear clothes. You don’t seem to be covering up much more than I am.”

“Well, I’m covering up what’s important. There are some things you just don’t walk around without hiding. You just can’t go around naked!”

“Why not? It’s comfortable.”

“Yeah, but it’s bad. You can get into trouble for being naked.”

“Really? I better tell Eve. Do you want to stay here and pet my sheep?”

Yurisa giggled a bit, and Adam looked at her like she was strange. She decided to follow along to meet this Eve. She’d heard a lot of things about her, mostly bad. When they found Eve, she was just coming out from behind a tree.

“Whatcha doing, Eve?” Adam asked.

“Oh, just irrigating,” Eve said.

“Oh, great idea. I need to go irrigate, too. Eve, I’d like you to meet Yurisa. She’s new here. She’s got something to tell you about clothes.”
With that, Adam sprinted off to find a tree.

“Hi, Yurisa,” Eve said. She was easily the most beautiful woman that Yurisa had met.

“Hi, Eve. You’re beautiful, you know that?”

“Well, I don’t know about that. God doesn’t make anything ugly, but I don’t know about beautiful.”

“No, you’re beautiful. Hasn’t Adam ever told you?”

“No, he just talks about the animals and such.”

“Oh, well there’s the problem. Do you know why he doesn’t tell you how beautiful you are?”

“Because he’s a guy and doesn’t like to express his emotions?”

“No, it’s because you’re not wearing any clothes.”

“Oh, what are clothes?”

“Clothes are like the things I have on now.”

“And it makes you look beautiful to guys to wear clothes?”

“Yes, if they’re fashionable, because it makes them think about you not wearing any clothes.”

“That sounds confusing.”

“Yes, but it’s just how guys’ minds work. They’re complicated.”

“Tell me about it. He likes petting his sheep more than he likes spending time with me.”

“We’ll change that. But first we have to find something to go with your eyes.” Yurisa began to look around. “Ah, yes, fig leaves will do quite nicely.”

Adam had returned by this point, and Yurisa shooed him off. She told him she’d go find him later. They set to work with the fig leaves, determined to make Eve beautiful. After some time had passed, Yurisa went looking for Adam.

“Adam, Adam, where are you?”

“Over here petting my sheep.”

“Ah, figures,” Yurisa mumbled to herself. “Adam, we’ve got a surprise for you.”

“Really? What is it?”

“Well, I can’t really tell you. I have to show you. We made Eve some clothes.”

“Oh, well, that’s nice. I’ll see them later.”

“No, Adam, you have to come now. Just leave your sheep alone for five minutes. It’ll be okay. Eve needs you to tell her which outfit looks best. She’ll try them on, and you’ll pick. But remember, no matter what it looks like, you have to tell her that she looks beautiful. Okay?”

“I guess. It sounds like a lot of work, though.”

“It’ll be worth it. Besides, if you don’t come, you’ll make Eve sad. You don’t want her to cry, do you?”

“Fine, I’ll go,” Adam assented.

They made their way over to where Eve was. In the time since he had left, they had built a runway of sorts for Eve to walk down. Yurisa had taught her how to strut and turn. She told Eve that it would make him think that she was beautiful. She sat Adam down in front, whispering to him to act impressed. Then, Eve came and tried her best runway walk. It was laughable to Adam. The clothes seemed pointless. But he couldn’t tell her that.

“So,” Eve said as she finished her runway debut, “Which outfit did you like best?”

Adam thought hard. “Oh, um, the one with the fig leaves.”

“They all had fig leaves!” Eve replied.

He remembered what Yurisa had told him, “And they all made you look beautiful.”

“Really?” Eve said.

“Yes. May I go now?” Adam said, twitching uncomfortably.

“Yes, because we need to have some girl time,” Yurisa said.

“Okay,” Adam said, fleeing hurriedly away. It didn’t matter where, he just wanted to leave quickly before they tried some other sort of nonsense. Little did he know that they would make him fig leaves to wear later.

Yurisa sat on a lion, combing Eve’s hair.

“See, Eve, I told you the clothing thing would work.”

“Yes, you did. He told me I was beautiful. Each outfit made me look beautiful to him. I wish I would have worn clothes before.”

“Well, there’s more to being beautiful than just clothes. I have plenty I’ll have to teach you about being mysterious. I also need to teach you how to pout, and how to flaunt your body.”

As she was teaching Eve how to steal Adam’s heart, she heard some bushes rustling. When she looked around, expecting to see Adam, she saw Satan holding an apple.

“It’s about time you showed up!”

“Ah, a fan I take it?”

“Believe me, you’re no Justin Timberlake. I don’t want your autograph. Just get back to what you were doing, we don’t have all day.”

“Oh, right. Eve, eat this apple.”

“You’re doing it all wrong, buddy. You have to tempt her. It’s like this. Eve, if you want Adam to fall madly in love with you and bring you a million gazillion presents every day and write poetry about you and treat you like a queen, then you must eat of this apple,” Yurisa corrected him.

“That’s not bad, I’ll have to take notes. Where did you learn stuff like that?” Satan asked.

“Buttering up my parents as a child. It gets easier with practice,” responded Yurisa.

“So, Eve, you heard what this girl has said. Will you eat this apple?”

“Well, I don’t know, we were told not to eat apples…” she began.

“Eat it, Eve. Trust me,” Yurisa told her.

“You sure?”

“Yes. It’s the only way to make Adam show his love for you. If he eats, too, then it’s because he loves you and he wants to be with you. He’ll do it, too. It’s the only way to take your relationship to the next level. You’ll live happily ever after and have children. Besides, have I ever been wrong?”

“Okay,” Eve said. Then she took a bite of the apple. “It’s not bad.”

“Good,” Yurisa commented. “Now, let’s get Adam to eat, too. That’ll show that he really loves you. I’ll go find him, and bring him here, okay? You just keep thinking about what I was telling you about how to make him fall madly in love with you and worship the ground you walk upon. Remember the pouting, guilt trips, and kissing bits.”

“Okay, thank you for everything, Yurisa. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“Eden,” Yurisa mumbled. Then she spoke louder, “Oh, don’t mention it, Eve. You can thank me later. Oh, and if you have a son named Cain, you probably want to drown him at birth. Trust me.”

“You’re silly,” Eve giggled, but she was innocent, after all.
Yurisa went off and found Adam. He was with his sheep, naturally. She tossed him a pair of fig shorts.

“What are these for?”

“To wear. You have to match Eve.”

“Oh, if you say so.”

“Speaking of Eve, she has something important to tell you.”

“Oh? It doesn’t involve more clothes does it?”

“No. But remember, you have to tell her she’s beautiful if she mentions clothing and such.”

“Fine,” he groaned, as they went back over to Eve’s place.

“Adam, do you know what I’ve done?”

“Combed your hair?”

“I’ve been a bad girl.”

“Combing your hair’s not that bad. It actually looks…” he looked over at Yurisa, “beautiful.”

“No, I’ve done something else.”

“What?”

“I ate an apple.”

“But we’re not supposed to eat the apples.”

“I know, but they taste good. You should have one.”

“I don’t want one.”

“But, Adam,” Eve pouted. “You do think I’m beautiful, right?”

“Yes, but…”

“And you do want me to be with you, right?”

“Yes, but I feel the same way about my sheep.”

“But your sheep aren’t as beautiful as I am, are they?”

Adam hesitated, then he looked at Yurisa, who was about to pull a muscle from shaking her head “no.”

“No, of course they aren’t.”

“You hesitated! You don’t think I’m beautiful?”

“Of course I think you’re beautiful,” Adam said. “You’re more beautiful than all the sheep in the garden combined.”

“And you do love me, right?”

“Um, yes.”

“Well, if you love me, you’ll eat an apple.”

“But I don’t want an apple. If I eat an apple, then I’ll get into trouble.”
At this point, Eve burst into tears. Adam was confused. Why was she doing this to him? Women can be so difficult. He thought about it. He could live with her, or live with is sheep. His sheep were a lot less complicated. But he wasn’t married to the sheep. It was a shame, really.

“Fine, I’ll eat the apple.”

“You will?” Eve said, ceasing to cry.

“Yes, I’ll eat the apple.”

“You really do love me, then. I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Really? How?”

“I’ll make more clothes.”

“Oh, okay.” Adam caught Yurisa’s evil glare. “I mean, that sounds wonderful, I can’t wait.”

Adam took a bite. He looked like he was expecting sudden death. But it didn’t come. He opened his eyes, which had been squinched closed, and looked around.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad.”

Eve ran up to him, and gave him a kiss.

“I like that,” Adam said, already beginning to lose his innocence.

“I thought you would,” Eve giggled.

“Adam, I think I want another one. Can you get that for me? It’s just too high for me to reach.”

“But there are a million of them right there. They all taste the same.”

“But I want that one. If you loved me, you’d get it for me.”

Adam looked at Yurisa, certain she’d put her up to this. Life was definitely a lot simpler before she showed up. She mouthed the words, “Do it.”

“Yes, dear. Just to prove that I really love you, I’ll get you this.”

Yurisa gave him two thumbs up, and He got it down for her.

“Here you go, beautiful.”

“Thank you, Adam,” Eve said.

“Aren’t you going to eat it?” Adam said.

“No, I just wanted to see if you’d get it for me.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I’ll be back in a second. I need to irrigate.”

“Okay, bye honey.”

“Eve, you’re a natural. You’ve got him wrapped around your pinky,” Yurisa said, commending her.

“And that’s good?”

“Yes. That’s perfect.”

“So, what do we do now?”

“Well, we ought to play a game. Ever heard of hide-and-seek?”

“No. What do you do?

“Well, you hide, and you wait for someone to go find you. Even if they call your name, you don’t come out, because it’s a trick.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be it first. You and Adam go hide together. Explain the rules to him, will you? I’m going to count to twenty, and then I’m coming after you.”
Eve ran over to Adam, who was just emerging from behind the tree. She grabbed his arm and dragged him off. He looked like a frightened, confused puppy dog. They played several rounds. Then, they heard another voice in the Garden.

“That’s God,” Adam said.

“He’s it now,” Yurisa said. “You’d better hide. Remember, don’t come out unless he finds you. No matter what.”

They all hid in their respective places. Yurisa watched from between the leaves of the bushes as God walked, looking for them. He was good at this. He was headed straight for them. He was probably cheating and had his eyes open while they were hiding.

“Adam? Where are you?”

Adam was about to respond when Eve elbowed him in the ribs. God heard this and caused the bush they were hiding behind to disappear.

“Adam, Eve, why are you hiding from me? Didn’t you hear my voice?”

“We heard thy voice and hid ourselves because we were playing hide-and-go seek.”

“Who taught you Hide-and-Go-Seek?”

“Yurisa,” Adam replied.

“What are these leaves you’re wearing?”

“They’re the latest fashion in fig leaves,” Eve replied.

“Why are you wearing fig leaves?”

“Because we are naked underneath them.”

“Who told you that you were naked?”

“The Girl,” Adam and Eve replied in unison.

God smacked his forehead and groaned. He turned and made Yurisa’s bush disappear.

“Yurisa, come here.”

She decided that now was not a time to disobey.

“Yurisa, what have you been doing here? You asked to go back to a simpler time, and I obliged.”

“Well, I honestly appreciate it. I mean, the Garden is nice and all, what with me being a vegetarian. But it’s frustrating. There’s no running water or electricity. There are no cell phones, cute boys, malls, TVs, movies, or iPods. There’s no MySpace, air conditioning, or makeup. Eve is just clueless. No offense, Eve. There are snakes and spiders and bugs everywhere! It’s like being in a weird nudist colony, and the only guy here doesn’t even notice me!”

“Are you finished?”

“Almost. There aren’t any cars. How am I supposed to live without a car?”

“I gave you feet. Besides, you don’t need them here. This is a paradise. You tried to distract me from the original question. What have you been up to?”

‘Darn!’ Yurisa thought. Then, she looked at God with big pouty eyes and lips.

“It won’t work, Yurisa. I already know what you did. I just need you to admit it.”

“Man, you’re worse than my mom.”

He shot her a look that put the fear of God into her.

“Fine, I admit it. I sabotaged the garden. I told Adam and Eve that they were naked. I made Eve clothes, and I taught her to be a bombshell of a trophy wife. I encouraged her to eat the apple, and I taught them how to play hide-and-seek. But Satan did give Eve the apple.”

“Satan, because you gave Eve the apple to eat, and listened to this girl, which she forgot to mention, you will be cast out. ‘Upon thy belly thou shalt go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life.'”

“Loser,” Yurisa jibed Satan as he was leaving. She had little time to gloat, though.

“Yurisa, because you have done this thing, you shall be cursed worse than Satan. You shall be banished from this time that you had sought to be in. You will return to your own era with a bad case of acne!”

“No!” she began to scream.

Yurisa awoke, screaming madly. When she realized that she was back in her own room, she stopped. It had all been just a dream. Just a terrible dream.

“Oh, thank goodness! That was just a dream! How could people live like that!?”

She stood up and looked around, taking in her room. Her boy band pictures were on the wall, her electronics were where they were supposed to be. Her walk-in closet was full of exposing outfits. Her makeup and jewelry boxes were on the dresser. There was her vanity mirror, too. She couldn’t have lived with out that.

“Ahhh!” she screamed suddenly. “Acne!”