30-Minute Stories

Angela wandered around downtown, stopping every once in a while to admire the buildings.  She loved the feeling she got when she looked up at them; part awe and part dizziness as she traced their shape up, up, up in to the sky.   Rene had called her in for an afternoon meeting with the big wigs of her company, Blackbird Publishing, after raving to them about the chapter that Angela had sent her the night before, and she had some time to kill before their appointment.  Rene had a pretty good eye for potential, and had tried to talk Angela into writing something else other than the last book that she pushed for.  Unfortunately, everyone else, including Angela, could only see the potential in the money that they imagined making, and since she had already penned two bestsellers prior they thought that she could do no wrong.  The reviews and performance had been a harsh shot of reality to Angela, although a necessary one to bring her head out of the clouds, but ...

That night, alone in his bedroom, Calvin slept.  It was a restful sleep; the kind that the body yearns for after a long day of work.  Or school, as was Calvin's case.  His window, which overlooked the front yard and hedges that his dad kept tidy on the weekends-when he was home to do so-was slightly cracked.  Calvin liked his room on the cooler side at night; it helped him to sleep better.  If it was too hot he tossed and turned and woke up too much to get any kind of quality rest.  Tonight, though, was  a perfect temperature for him.  Not so hot that he'd wake up, but not so cold that he'd freeze and go searching for the covers in the middle of the night.  Just right. While his body rested, Calvin's head filled with all sorts of dreams.  One was incredible, and Calvin found himself running and leaping through a large wheat field, with the sun shining down bright and warm.  Small, fluffy clouds dotted the sky and provided brief po...

Mr. O'Leary was at Daniel's side in a flash.  He had a bottle of mana in his hand, the faintly glowing liquid sloshing back and forth as he worked to uncork it.  The silver lines moved and swirled about, ready for action.  The white cupboard door swayed back and forth on its hinges, creaking softly with each motion.  He slid his hand behind Daniel's head and gently lifted it up, moving the bottle to his lips, and began to pour the liquid into his mouth.  It flowed freely, illuminating Daniel's mouth as it passed through.  The silver drops elongated and traced patterns through the bottle and across Daniel's tongue as they disappeared toward the back of his throat.  Daniel's eyes fluttered and slowly opened, just as the last of the potion entered his mouth. "Daniel, are you alright?" Mr. O'Leary asked the boy, still cradling his head. "I've been better," Daniel said after a moment.  He propped himself up on his arms and looked aroun...

"Wow, Calvin!  You're good at this!" exclaimed Eva.  Calvin had successfully pulled the pencil out of her hand and into his own at least a dozen times.  Mr. O'Leary walked slowly through the room, stopping to give advice or inspiration to each student as they struggled to pull the pencils out of their partners' hands with varying degrees of success.  Nathan Gerling's face had turned almost as red as his hair in his attempts to grab the pencil out of Tony Harland's  hand.  He insisted that Tony was purposely holding on it too tight, but even after he set it on his desk the best Nathan could do was cause it to roll off the edge.  At least, he thought that was his doing.  Tony didn't fare much better on his turns, although once he was able to pull it out of Nathan's hand and pelt himself in the face with it.  His only consolation was the pencil had made contact with the eraser end, so he ended up with just a bit of surprise and embarrassment, in...

Mr. O'Leary returned to his desk, rummaged through one of the drawers and finally pulled out a box of pencils.  He walked back down the rows of desks and gave one pencil to each pair of students before returning to the front of the class.  He dropped the box in his trash bin and began to pace again, a favorite habit of his while teaching.  "As I was saying before, imagination is the key to making spells work.  We'll take turns trying this out.  Everyone with a pencil please hold it up, between your thumb and index finger."  The students obliged, holding the yellow pencils up for their partners. "The rest of you please do as I say and we'll see if we can move those pencils!  First, close your eyes and clear your mind of everything.  Try to imagine a room with nothing in it but your partner and yourself; a blank slate with no windows, no doors, no distractions.  Everyone got it?"  The students nodded in agreement.  "Good!  In y...

Two o'clock.  Time for the last class of the day.  Calvin always looked forward to this class, not just for the content but for the teacher.  He walked down the hallway, past the rows of lockers and doors, and turned into the last one on the left.  He glanced up at the placard on the door as he entered. "MAGIC SAFETY & AWARENESS" it read in big, bold letters.  Today they would be starting some practice applications, instead of the book work and theoretical study they had been doing for weeks prior.  Calvin usually hated book work, but Mr. O'Leary had a way of presenting it that was thoughtful and engaging. The room was a typical classroom, adorned with rows of seats with desks attached to them, walls decorated with posters and cupboards, a blackboard with chalk streaks here and there and old formulas that refused to be cleaned off, and a large desk at the front of everything.  Seated behind the desk was a  tall man with short, brown hair....

Calvin, Kate and Richie all took their usual spot in the cafeteria.  It was one of the only times they were all able to hang out together during classes, since Richie was a grade lower than them and had a different schedule.  Luckily they all had the same lunch period.  The room was big, but ordinary.  Calvin had never been to another school, but he imagined all of their lunchrooms looked pretty much the same.  Long tables, with benches attached, had been pulled out for the students, leaving enough room for walkways down the sides and in between them.  The metal sliders that covered the kitchen windows had been rolled up, and the staff of lunch attendants were ready to take each and every order. "If you hate pizza so much, then why do you always ask for it?" Kate asked Richie as he picked a piece of pepperoni off of the slice in front of him and popped it into his mouth. "I don't HATE the pizza," Richie emphasized.  "I just hate the crust.  Yo...