Thirsty
From: braaaains@
To: wiseoldcrone@
Subject: Horror Workplace
Dear Crone,
I think I’m being discriminated against at work because I’m a zombie.
First they said that I should have to work more shifts than everyone else just because we don’t sleep.
Then they put a sign up in the break room saying “NO MICROWAVING brAINS” even though I’ve never done that (I’m a zombie, not a monster).
Someone even started a rumor that I deliberately became a zombie to discharge my student debt, because of how they changed the law so that vampires retain their debt but not other undead creatures.
It’s become a totally toxic workplace, but I’m also nervous about going on the job market again because last time I didn’t have to deal with people staring at my gaping head wound during interviews. What should I do?
Sincerely,
Shuffling Toward the EEOC
From: sjarnathan@
To: wiseoldcrone@
Date: May 4, 9:06 AM
Subject: Sorceress Stalemate
Dear Crone,
I met a wonderful sorceress when a spell she was working on backfired and dropped her here from her own time 342 years ago.
It’s been a whirlwind romance, and I care about her a lot—and now that she’s worked through her personal issues and her powers are back, she can undo the time-travel spell.
There’s just one problem: we can’t decide where to go!
She wants me to come back to her time, meet her friends and her family, which I totally understand—but I’m not exactly eager to go live in a time without modern medicine, women’s suffrage, or the internet.
On the other hand, she’s not wild about climate change, nuclear power, or the internet.
We’re at a stalemate—maybe we could try to go even further in the future, or into another dimension entirely?
We’ve pledged to abide by whatever you decide. Where should we go?
Sincerely,
Stop Living In the Past
Wise Old Crone
Should I Sell Out, or Keep the Magic Alive?
And how do werewolves deal with rejection?
June 16
Dear Crone,
I own a rare magical bookshop that’s been in my family for generations.
The local werewolf pack has offered to buy us out—I guess they want to bring our stock in-house as part of their collection of magical resources.
If I accepted their offer, I could stay on as a kind of librarian or pack consultant, or I could take the money and walk away.
Or, I could reject their offer and see how werewolves deal with disappointment.
I love my store, and I don’t want to see it changed .
. . but I also can’t stop thinking about what I could do with that money.
I could travel, pursue hobbies I’ve never had time for before, or maybe even start a new business.
Every option feels dangerous. How do I even begin to decide what the right move is?
Sincerely,
Choosing My Own Adventure
Dear Bookshop Adventurer,
That’s the thing about danger, isn’t it? It’s intoxicating.
All your options seem rich with possibility.
Running a magical bookstore means being surrounded by knowledge, potential, and imagination—but the kind that you can only ever put back on a shelf.
Taking their offer and walking away would mean cracking the spine on your own life. No wonder it feels dangerous.
And speaking for myself, I understand the magnetic pull of the risky choice; the lure of giving in to temptation.
After all, we only live once—or at least, humans do.
It’s romantic to think about fate picking us up like a leaf on the wind and depositing us wherever we’re meant to be next.
There’s a relief in danger, isn’t there?
The relief of giving in; the freedom that comes with ignoring that cautious voice within.
All of which is to say that if walking away is what’s calling to you, I’d give it serious consideration.
I’d tell you to go with your gut, but I don’t think instinct holds any particular wisdom.
More to the point, I don’t believe there are right answers to questions like this.
You’re not trying to figure out what’s “correct” in any cosmic sense; you’re choosing who you want to be.
In other words, if you’re going to make the dangerous choice, make sure you do it with your eyes open.
Sincerely,
Crone