| Where there's a Weewoo, there's a way |
Circulation: 193,924,599 |
Issue: 725 | 25th day of Running, Y18 |
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Short Stories
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"Voyage of the Haunted Canoe" by newenglandquizzer
Water swished gently against the hull of their little canoe. In daylight, the canoe glinted a deep red, but in the dark it seemed more like dried blood. Greebles peeped and Flightning Bugs buzzed out of sight on the riverbanks. The scene seemed peaceful enough, but not all the occupants of the canoe were so sure.
“I still don’t really like this,” Shale hissed. The White Grundo gripped her paddle much tighter than she really needed. Even if her fingers weren’t white already, no one would be able to see her white knuckles through the slim-fitting gloves she wore.
Her campmate, Lia, piped up behind her. “Neither am I—but mostly because I’m definitely the lightest out of all of us, which means I should be up front.” The Yellow Usul huffed. “Our weight load is unbalanced and it’s slowing us down.”
“Quit it!” the third pet said, a Starry Cybunny. “I am fluffy. I barely weigh more than you. Besides, you can’t do this.” She turned and flashed a beam of light from the star on her forehead. Shale and Lia both squeaked and flailed their paws, trying to cover their eyes. Shale nearly dropped her paddle in her surprise.
“Ouch! Bo!” Lia said. “Cease and desist, that’s far too bright!”
Bo turned back to her position at the very front of the canoe, where she used her forehead flashlight to scope out the water ahead of them. “That’s what I thought. Now quit whining!” The Cybunny squinted. Ahead, wisps of white mist had begun to gather over the water, and the canoe headed right for it. “Looks like some fog is rolling in, girls…”
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