Future Drabbles Nathan reclined out on the beach chair, feeling the warm sand beneath his toes. He drew in a deep breath of the fresh outdoor air with its scent so distinctive he would know where he was even blindfolded. He closed his eyes and turned his face up to the sun. This was good. This was the life. This was the retirement he'd always dreamed of. A hoot of an owl came from nearby, and Nathan sighed and let the fantasy pop. He opened his eyes and reached for the letter carried by the owl perched on the side of his nephew's sandbox. "What do the elves need me for now?" he asked the school bird rhetorically.
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Clark stared down at the question on the application, baffled. It wasn't an unexpected question by any means, but he just . . . had forgotten to consider it until now. There had never been any doubt that he'd go to college, that was a given. Nearly as certain was that he'd study science. But there were an awful lot of sciences in the world, even the magical world, and there it was: Major: (Pick One) and he had no idea what box to check.