Sorry, The Only Power Left Is Alteration.

Circe did not sleep soundly.

Thoughts of her apartment, her neglected bills, the library operating without her, her favorite seat at the Lucks Star occupied by someone else became so vivid in her mind it was as if she was there. Yellow tape surrounded the scene of the accident. A chalk outline drawn where her body had landed. Thick tire tread patterns marked the asphalt past the head of the outline.

Next came a hall, which was odd as Circe had never been here before. She didn’t see anything but she heard a voice from behind double doors. She pushed to open them, but phased straight though them instead. Her attention immediately went to a tall, dark, and handsome New York City police detective in a formal suit and police trench coat.

“Maybe you don’t want to do this?” he said.

“Mom!?” Circe gasped, “Mom, I wanted to talk to you so badly. I’m sorry, okay. I messed up, I was just angry because I messed up. Mom! Listen to me! I don’t hate you! I love you!”

No reaction.

A middle-aged woman in glasses with light brown hair matched the height of the NYPD officer. She had sharp hazel eyes lined by stress wrinkles and her pale lips pressed into a worried frown. A classy tan business dress hung against her slender frame. A neckless of imitation pearls complemented the outfit.

“I want this investigated fully; I know my child. Sure, she was going through a bad time. But she’s a Sheffield through and through. She’d never... I’m not going to even say it- such a thought would never cross her mind! She’s stubborn as a mule and not the brightest, but she never gives up. And besides, why would somebody be chasing her if I was making payments to her debt collectors.”

“Mam, I’m sorry to say again that you were being scammed.”

Another officer stood behind her, also a good-looking grizzled guy with a black faded hair cut in business casual. They waited for a staff in blue scrubs to come and open the mortuary cabinet and slide out a thick tray with a long black zippered bag on it. Mrs. Sheffield grabbed at her hair with one hand and her pearl necklace with the other.

“I want to know the truth,”

The truth opened with the sound of a zipper sliding down a bag. Circe put a hand to her mouth when she saw the body that used to be her. It didn’t have a face anymore and from the neck down were deep tire impressions from where the bus rolled over it.

“Why would you even show this too her!?” Circe screamed.

Nobody heard her. She could hear Azoria giggling. But she looked in every direction and saw nobody. Circe lifted a hand and tried to rest it against her mother’s back as the woman stood frozen in place. She had to hold it, there was no ability to make human contact. Yet Circe could feel a deep welling grief starting to bubble to the surface as her mother shook.

“Can you identify the body?”

There was a deep breath, a quivering shallow breath, and then warm hands clasping around cold discolored hand. Circe could feel the warmth and began to cry.

“No... my- my baby!” her mother cried with a broken voice.

The two officers looked at each other as the woman’s tears became thicker and her face turned red.

“Not like this, never like this, you’d never,” she cried, rubbing warmth into the cold stiff hand, “My strong-willed precious baby... not like this... you d-don’t deserve this. I sh-sh-s-should’ve come sooner. My baby! No...”

The two officers nodded at one another. The handsome officer gently touched her shoulder as the woman cried, tears staining her make-up as they left trails. Snot pushed down her lip and collected over her chin. The woman's face turned bright red as she clutched a lifeless hand.

“Mam, your husband is waiting in the waiting room. Why don’t you come along with us. She wouldn’t want to see you like this anyway.”

The woman clutched the discolored hand all the tighter and pushed her forehead to it. Imitation pearls scattered across the floor of the hospital mortuary.

“Shut up!” she screamed, “I just want one minute. One minute to say goodbye to my little girl!”

A minute passed in total silence but for the sobs of a mother. Circe felt a tightness in her chest as she heard another giggle. But scanning the room revealed no extra presence.

“This awful, disgusting filthy city. This putrid disgusting hell hole of a city. This miserable dirt pile of a city. I knew it was a mistake, but if I would’ve known I would have never... I... I’m so- so sorry. Mommy always loves you sweaty. Mommy is going to bring you home now, okay?”

The woman reached up to touch what was left of a cheek, then lifted the hand and gave it a quick kiss. The officers gave the nod and the staff in scrubs zipped up the bag. The sliding tray slid back in place with a bang and a click, and the door slammed shut with a cold metal sound. Circe’s mother collapsed on her knees, then her hands went to the floor and clutched a pearl as she bawled. Circe knelt next to her, made a fist and then phased inside her.

“I’m sorry mom. I wasn’t paying attention. You know me. I love you. I love you more than anybody else in the world. You’ll always be the best in my heart. Please look after Dad, okay?”

Circe felt herself being pushed out. Time up. She phased next to her mother, who wiped her eyes and looking oddly comforted as the detectives helped her get to her unsteady feet.

Her father slept crouched over in a waiting room chair with his head hunched down. He looked older, more wrinkled, more haggard, than she had ever remembered. Hair had become thinner and grayer too. The giggling became louder. There wasn’t much time. She phased inside his dream.

There he stood at a work bench near the garage, working on a bird house. It was so him. Circe smiled. Her form in this dream still wore the same clothes from when she died. Leaves blew in the wind as the hills had turned glorious shades of orange, red, and yellow. Circe took a step forward.

“Dad?”

He turned around, “Circe, is that you! You’re alive after all!”

She approached closer, hugging him.

“I knew this had to be a big mistake, one big mistake. You don’t even know how much your mother and I miss you!”

She hugged him tighter, her chest heaving. A strong hand went through her hair to comfort her one last time.

“I don’t have much time, Dad. Thanks for buying me books. Thanks for teaching me to make birdhouses. I love you. Take care of Mom, okay?”

“Wait, what!” he said, voice panicked, “Don’t go! Please...”

His chest shuddered as he clutched her tightly, looked down with tearful eyes, and finally nodded before gently releasing her. He forced himself to smile as she became nothing more than a collection of colorful leaves swirling in the wind.

-----

The vision dissipated. The sun shone harshly on the streets of Time Square below. Circe found herself standing alone on a platform supporting the giant screen. A warm wind blew against her clothes as her knees buckled and she screamed. Tears flew from her eyes and ran down cheeks into her polo shirt.

And then came something warm, a body so warm that it almost burned her. The tears evaporated in the dry hellish heat. A spaded tail waved in front of Circe’s eyes. Hot hands pushed the gap between Circe’s torso and arms to wrap her chest. A cute high-pitched giggle assaulted her ear and Circe felt like she was about to throw up.

“Are you having fun?” Azoria asked.

Those hands pushed against the cloth over her chest and reached to lock her slender shoulders. The tip of the spaded tail pushed the flesh near Circe’s eye and captured a tear as if drinking it.

“You make good use of bad gifts. I’m so impressed I can hardly hold back. This vision was meant to break you. You’re strong.”

“What do you want from me?”

Azoria giggled, reached across Circe’s shoulder, and gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek.

“This is a one time generosity. You’ll never be coming back to this world again, so win my game and maybe find out, cutie-pie.”

The tail unwound itself and Azoria let go before giving Circe’s back a push so that she tumbled off the platform face first toward the pavement.

Before her face could slam the ground, she shot upright from Alfredo’s jacket and gasped hard, barely able to breathe. Sweat dripped from her forehead. She checked her shorts, which were thankfully still dry. Her head hurt; she felt a little dehydrated from crying in her sleep.

“You good?” Alfredo asked, “Didn’t wanna wake yuh. Far be it from me tuh tell yuh tuh stop cryin'.”

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep so she rubbed her eyes. Crusts had filled the corner pockets and Alfredo’s jacket was wet with tears and snot.

“Dreamin 'bout yer folks?”

Circe nodded, sniffed, “I’m never going to see them again, so I guess I owe that thing one, just one. One bad gift deserves another.”

Mogg-del Beef Ear Pie swooped into the cave with gleeful roar, "How you doing everybody!" it yelled at the top of its booming voice.

Suddenly there was a beefy thick bull with tiny little wings flying above the occupants of the cave. The bull had brown fur, a long tail, strong looking hooves, and an intimidating face that was somehow also kind. It was flying in circles as loud bass phonk music played from every side of the cave. The people close to the walls began to crowd the center. The front wall of the cave moved down. The top half parted as if it were a curtain to reveal an empty stage that lowered, yet remained too high for the audience to climb on.

“I’m Mogg-del Beef Ear Pie!” the flying bull yelled as it did twirls in the air, “It’s time for everyone to see their stats!”