How are you all?
Today is the longest day of the year apparently and in a shock turn of events, here in England we have sunshine or rather heat as it is set to be rather humid.
I thought I would share with you my entry into a recent competition. It was to write a fantasy story in 500 words…I think…and seeing as the deadline has passed and the shortlist is out (and I’m not on it) I can share with you my tale.
I have plenty of reasons as to why it didn’t make the shortlist, for example, I saw the competition on Facebook and thought…’why not?’ and wrote it in about 30 minutes. I think this may be evident in the quality. But what I didn’t expect was to struggle with what could be considered Fantasy. I may have leaned too far to sci-fi but even that I am not sure of.
So without further waffling…I give you…
He was disgruntled. 272 years of unrelenting dedication to the Core and he had been dismissed without so much as a hadron collider. If truth be told, he was sure they would award him a time machine of his very own, only three scientists before him had received one and he expected to be next. Yet, with 3 dyas until his retirement they had sacked him. He would show them, they couldn’t mess with him, he was number 10011001001 and that meant something.
They allowed him 5 earth minutes to clear his desk. He trudged along and as he passed his colleagues he noticed the din of silence echoing around, all eyes were looking at him, he stood up straighter to show superiority but it made no difference. They knew he had been made the scapegoat for something and they were only glad it wasn’t them. It was a drawback to working with TheMenWithNoConscience, they had great minds but little backbone, figuratively and literally. They slumped about all spineless, slithering about in a sticky mess, and generally annoying him with their grace as they slid effortlessly about the laboratory.
But number 10011001001 had a plan, he would press the red button on his desk, the one that he was told to never press, he would show them. In his 272 years (nearly) of service he had never been tempted, but they had forced his hand, what other option did he have?
Number 96 had been asked to accompany him to his desk to keep him in line, but at his age his bladder was all but non-existent and he had to wee all the time. He reached his desk whilst Number 96 was still in the lavatory and removed the dust and cobwebs that clung to the button. Taking a huge, life-changing breath he slammed his fist onto it,nothing happened, he whacjed it again, still nothing, he began to cry at the pointlessness of his life and he slumped over his desk sobbing.
“What’s up with you good lookin’?” asked Number 96, and he looked up at the old codger. “I work so hard here and for what? For what?!” he cried.
“I don’t know about that! You’ve only been here 5 earth minutes; you’re a young ‘un, fresh spawn. If you are going to start panicking then I will have to send you back to the Shed” said Number 96 looking very severe.
Number 10011001001 sat upright and looked around at his desk, he stood up and looked at the laboratory. TheMenWithNoConscience were nowhere in sight. He looked at his desk and at the red button, pointing at it he asked “What’s that for?”
“Whatever you do good lookin’ NEVER EVER press that button!” said Number 96 and then wandered off towards the lavatory.
This time he thought, this time would be different. He was going to wreak havoc.
Anyone notice that I may have been in a silly mood that day? Feedback needed so that I don’t make the same mistakes next time! [Now if only I had my own reset button]