Tag: short-story Page 14 of 15

Five Minutes Ago

On January 25, 2020

A jogger is out on a run, paranoid someone is following, only to discover her stalker is herself.

A jog in a forest was what the doctor would’ve ordered. Gia needed this escape after the audience from her last production tried to kill her for ridiculing their corrupt ruler. She paused for a moment to soak in the partly cloudy skies, a comforting summer breeze, and the fact that there was no around for miles. The latter was vital because her black leggings and sports bar were not appropriate for the 514 C.E. time.

Not far, there was a loud crack of a broken branch. Gia studied a large, fallen redwood tree for any possible dangerous animals. She thought she heard a voice too, but when nothing emerged, she shrugged it off and continued her jog.

“I’m getting paranoid,” Gia said to reassure herself.

Humans weren’t supposed to discover this portion of land for at least a few hundred years. No one could be there. It was only her. Still, she couldn’t shake off the feeling someone was following her. The trail was thick with twists and turns, adding to her paranoia.

Gia made a sharp turn off the trail and doubled back, keeping an eye on the route she had taken in case someone was following her. The seconds in the four minutes of intense investigation felt like pine needles always poking her. In her journey back, she came across the fallen tree, where she first thought someone was watching her.

As she positioned herself behind the tree, she lost her footing and broke a thick branch in half. She cursed under her breath, but caught herself and shifted her persona to a spy character hiding from enemy forces.

A moment later, she heard a voice, “I’m getting paranoid.”

Gia crept her head over the redwood.

Jogging along the trail was herself from five minutes ago.

Gia stood up. “This isn’t good. I must be caught in a localized loop, but what’s causing the contamination? It has to be close.”

Gia leaped over the tree and followed her past self down the trail. When she came to the spot where she made the detour to go back, she discovered a set of paw prints. She kneed down to study them.

“These look like lion prints, but they’re not native to these parts.”

As Gia reached for her back pocket, a sneaker hit her on the head. With one hand, she rubbed her head and inspected the show with the other. When she recognized it, she looked up in the sky to herself held by sphinx flying below the treetops.

“I guess I found the contamination,” the Gia on the ground said.

“You found it?” the Gia in the sky snapped. “I found it first.”

“What is going on here?” the sphinx demanded.

The version of Gia in its grasp answered, “We’re trapped in a micro temporal loop because you don’t belong here.”

“I’ve been here for years!”

“Have you noticed the changing of the seasons?”

The sphinx landed on the ground and released its Gia. The two Gia’s hugged, causing a radiant yellow light that caused the sphinx to cover her eyes with her paw temporarily. When the light subdued, only one Gia stood.

“I hate the headache that brings,” Gia mumbled to herself.

“What just happened?” the sphinx asked.

“My people can merge themselves whenever there’s been a loop,” Gia explained. “It causes an annoying headache as the duplicate memories sort themselves out. But enough about me. Let’s get you home, friend.”

This short story was inspired by the following writing prompt: “You’re out for a jog and you can’t shake the feeling that someone is following you. It started off as an inkling, but now the idea has consumed your thoughts. As you reach the crosswalk, you wheel around and confront your stalker. It’s you, from five minutes ago.”

Thank you to Janine De Guzman at Design Pickle for bringing this scene to life!

The Argument at Mercury Theatre

By Dennis

On January 17, 2020

In Imaginary

A pair of time travelers meet in the past at the infamous Mercury Theatre and end up getting in an argument about history, unaware people are listening to them.

Gia worked on catching her breath as Kojack slammed shut his purple, free-standing door. Across from his door in an office was a green door that belonged to Gia.

“Let’s go back in time to the first bull running,” Gia said in a mocking tone. “It will be fun, he said.”

“It was fun until you tried to direct the bulls,” Kojack snapped back.

Gia didn’t respond. Kojack saw the hurt in her expression. He knew she was trying to become a great director, so he changed the subject. “When and where are we?”

Gia pulled out a tablet from her muddy red dress. “Wednesday, October 26, 1938. The Mercury Theatre.”

“Anything interesting about this place?”

“Anything interested?” Gia said, offended. “This is Mercury Theatre! Why in a few days, they’re going to perform the War of the Worlds radio drama, and that show was one for this planet’s history books.”

“What was so remarkable about this show?”

“The public reaction. You see, Howard Kock was trying to adapt the novel of the same, but Howard was having trouble making it interesting or credible as a radio drama. Then Orson Wells gets inspired by this other program on the Columbia Workshop. They adapt the story by using real people and places for the alien invasion. They even add lots of eyewitness accounts and news breaks to create urgency and excitement, giving the show incredible realism.”

Kojack could tell from Gia’s bright smile how passionate she was about the arts. Getting her to talk about the radio drama got her mind off the mess that was their previous adventure. He smiled back at her.

“Where to now?” Kojack asked.

“There’s this food truck festival in 2011 that didn’t seem like much at the time, but sparks this whole big movement. I figured we should take a break and get something to eat.”

“Sounds good.”

Gia and Kojack opened their doors, went inside, and when closed, they blinked out of existence like they were never there.

Off in the corner of the room, hidden from sight behind props and costumes, sat Howard Koch, Frank Froelick, and Orson Welles.

Howard turned to Orson, breaking their silence. “I thought you didn’t get a chance to listen to Columbia Workshop today?”

“I didn’t,” Orson softly replied, his mind racing with thoughts from what transpired. “But we should do want they said.”

This week’s short story is inspired by the following writing prompt: “Two time travelers meet in the past and end up getting in an argument about history, unaware that their conversation is being listened to.”

I did some research about the War of the Worlds radio broadcast and thought of a way of how my end-timers were able to inspire the show.

The Red Cube Decision

By Dennis

On January 10, 2020

In Imaginary

Three close friends decide to ask their science teacher about a mysterious red cube that nearly leads to interplanetary conflict.

“Are we in agreement?”

Mya stood over her two best friends who huddled together around the concrete table and bench. They sat together in silence, thinking over Mya’s proposition, as the cube at the center simply emitted a gentle pulsating red light. Each side of the solid red cube was a couple of inches long. There were no ports, holes, or any way to open it. They tried and even tried to break, but it wouldn’t crack or get any scratches. Joining the cube on the table were their packed lunches and phones.

Omar adjusted his black cuffed beanie sporting the logo of a podcast reporting local ghost stories to cover his ears from the November chill better. He would instead prefer to have lunch inside the cafeteria. Still, he understood why Mya wanted the privacy to meet outside their high school.

The cube jumped into the air a few inches. All three of them jumped when the cube did.

Emma adjusted her gold metal glasses. “The cube is becoming more active and brighter.”

“I can’t believe that thing is still glowing,” Cooper commented. “It should’ve drained its batteries by now. We’ve had it for almost a month now.”

“Are we in agreement with showing this to Mr. Haines after school?” Mya repeated.

The cube jumped again. When it landed, it was slightly bigger.

“Did it just grow?” Omar asked.

Emma pulled out a small measuring tape from her lime-green backpack and measured the cube. “Omar is corrected. It’s five millimeters larger than yesterday. It’s almost twelve centimeters.”

“Okay, I think we should show it to our science teacher,” Omar admitted.

“Yeah, we should see what Mr. Haines thinks,” Emma agreed.

“Then we agree,” Mya said as she sat down on the bench. “After school, we show him the cube.”

A pale man in a dark suit, in a dark room, appeared on all of their phone screens, facing the camera.

“Thank you,” the unknown man spoke with a raspy crackle. “I’ve received all of the information I need. Goodbye.”

All their screens went back to black.

After a moment, Emma was the first to speak. “That was weird.”

“Yeah,” Mya agreed.

The three of them tried to turn their phones back on, but couldn’t.

“Can anyone get their phone back on?” Mya asked.

“No luck,” Emma said.

“Ditto,” Omar added. “This has to be some sort of prank, right?”

“By who?” Mya retorted.

Omar shrugged. The cube hopped, but this time no one flinched.

“I’m starting to think we should’ve thrown this back through that purple crack at the lake,” Emma commented. “This has to be alien tech.”

“There’s no such thing as aliens,” Mya retorted.

“No such thing as glowing purple cracks, but we saw one of those,” Omar snapped.

“Let’s not fight,” Emma said, jumping in to prevent an escalation. Both Mya and Omar apologized. “Good. It’s my turn to keep watch of it, so I’ll put it in my locker until after school.”

The other two agreed and continued with their lunch.

Mya always wondered why Mr. Haines was still teaching classes. For starters, Mya would never admit to anyone, but she thought he was way too good looking to be a teacher. Then there was the fact that he had a popular science show with millions of followers online. She knew he had to be making way more money from his channel than he did as a teacher in one of the lowest-paid states. Though today she was grateful that she had someone brilliant and caring, she could talk to about something so bizarre.

All of the students from the final class had left when Omar and Emma joined Mya outside Mr. Haines’ door. Emma’s backpack bounced, catching Mya’s attention.

“It’s been rambunctious,” Emma explained. “Let’s get inside.”

The three of them went inside as their teacher cleaned the foamy mess from today’s science demonstration. Omar closed the door behind them and locked it.

“Hey, Mya, Emma, and Omar,” Mr. Haines greeted. “What brings you here?”

“Pull it,” Mya whispered to Emma.

“Oh, right,” Emma said, caught off guard.

Emma sat down her backpack, pulled out the red cube, and sat it down on the table. It sat on the table for a moment with no one saying a word until it bounced up, a few feet high.

“That’s cool,” Mr. Haines praised. “Did you make this?”

“No,” Mya confessed, then she began to ramble. “We found it about a month ago. We can’t seem to open it or break it, and it’s always been active. We figured its batteries should’ve died out by now, but it hasn’t and seems to be getter bigger.”

Mr. Haines rubbed his chin in thought as he studied the cube. “By any chance, did this come out of a purple crack?”

The three students were all taken by their science teacher’s exact guess.

“Yes,” Emma said with slight hesitation. “We found it at Lake Thunderbird, collecting specimens for your assignment when it popped out a purple crack on a tree.”

The cubed jumped, but when it landed, it changed shape to a six-legged spider-like robot.

“The prince has been born,” the pale man announced from the back of the classroom. Everyone turned their attention away from the robot to stranger, who made his approach. “I’ve been hired by the 9S Family to retrieve their child that has ended up on Earth.”

“You heard the man. Give them their kid back,” Mr. Haines ushered.

Mya picked up the baby robot and handed it to the pale man.

“Thank you for watching over the child,” the pale man said, taking the robot.

The door burst open, unbroken, with a short, buzz-cut female police officer. Emma shrieked. The officer’s name tag read, “Mists.” She pointed her gun at the pale man. Omar put up his hand in reaction while Mya stood frozen.

“You are an unauthorized visitor to Earth,” Mists ordered. “Step away from the children and come with me.”

“Officer Mists,” Mr. Haines addressed. “This person is simply retrieving a lost child that my students found. No need to panic.”

Mists took a good look around the room. She put away her weapon, creating a collective sigh of relief.

“I don’t know what’s going on here,” Omar spoke with a tremble.

“Don’t worry about it because you’ve been pranked,” their science teacher announced dramatically.

“What,” Mya uttered, annoyed.

“Pranked! You see, I knew a bunch of my students would be at the lake that weekend, so I set up these contraptions to surprise them with these cubes. You’re the first to bring me one of them.”

“So the pale man,” Emma started to ask.

“Hiding in the closet,” Mr. Haines answered. “The robot is a new invention made by a friend, and the officer here is also a friend of mine. I hope you learned a valuable lesson in keeping secrets.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t suspect you,” Omar said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Now, head home and enjoy your weekend,” their teacher said, leading them out the door. He closed the door behind them and promptly turned to Mists. “I have never lied so fast and well in my life.”

“Should I wipe their memories?” Mists asked.

“No, I’m positive they bought that prank story. It’s not the first time I’ve pranked my students.”

“Very well,” Mists said and faced the pale man holding the robot. “Let’s get you two back to your planet.”

This prompted short-story is inspired by the idea, “You’re scrolling through social media, like usual, until the screen goes black, it goes black on all your friends’ phones too. A pale man in a dark room is showed speaking on the screen, ‘Thank you, I’ve received all the information I need, Goodbye.'”

The Gifting Dog

By Dennis

On January 3, 2020

In Imaginary

One of my goals for 2020 is to write more, which includes new short stories. This story is less than 900 words and was inspired by the writing prompt: “Every day when you return home from work, your dog greets you by bringing you a seemingly random item, which will turn out to be useful throughout the day. One day, after a particularly stressful day of work, your dog greets you with a sword at his feet, happily wagging his tail.”

Enjoy!

Olivia flopped down on her fluffy, purple beanbag in her living room. She let her whole body soak into the seat as she let out an exhausted sigh. The lights automatically dimmed a little to create a relaxing space. She tapped her purple star necklace, and it projected a 3D holographic sphere.

“Hey, networker, what’s on my schedule for tonight?” Olivia asked.

“You have nothing on your personal calendar,” the networker spoke in a cheerful tone based on her favorite movie actress. “However, there are several events happening tonight that may be of interest to you, including a new art exhibition at Sky View Museum.”

“Na, I think I want to stay inside tonight. I’m peopled-out.”

“Would you like me to start you a hot bath?”

“Maybe later. I want to sit here and do nothing.”

“As you wish.”

The sphere disappeared as Olivia’s dog, Shadow, rubbed his head against her beanbag and then under Olivia’s hand to be petted, which she did. She rescued Shadow a month ago at her job when a clothing rack fell him, trapping him until she freed him. It was a crazy day that day as demons, skeletons, a giant three-headed dog, and all sorts of weirdness rampaged the mall. She named the dog Shadow not only because he had black fur, but because he had a shadowy glow to him and he could blend in with the darkness to the point that one could only see his purple eyes. Olivia tried to find his owner but had no luck.

Shadow had become family to her and, in a strange way, somewhat helpful. Every morning before Olivia left for work, Shadow would bring her an item that would end up helping her out that day. She had no idea how her dog would even obtain some of the things. One time, Shadow brought her an extra lunch that she gave to her coworker, who happened to forget their lunch. Another time she was gifted a healing cut spray for when she ended up hurting herself while demonstrating a hoverboard. Some of the gifts had helped in odd ways, like a buy-one-get-one-free meal coupon for when her lame date ended up ditching her with the bill. Shadow would even sometimes bring offerings in the evening, like a bottle of wine for when her friends came over for game night that she completely forgot she was hosting.

“I don’t suppose you got a cocktail for me tonight, buddy,” she said as she scratched Shadow’s back.

Shadow barked and then ran off around the corner, out of sight. A moment later, Shadow came back, dragging a silver sword. Shadow took his time as he avoided scratching the wall and floors with the sword. Olivia sat up. She did not own any weapons. The dog lowered the sword by her feet, wagged his tail, and barked at her.

Olivia picked up the sword and inspected it. She could see herself with her long, curly purple hair in the blade’s reflection. She resisted the temptation to test the blade’s sharpness. It looked dangerous enough.

“You’ve never given me a weapon before, Shadow,” Olivia said as she stood up, nervous at what may happen that would cause her to use a sword. “What do you expect me to do with this?”

Shadow barked and led Olivia to his leash by the front door. Olivia grabbed the leash, and as she was about to put it on him, she realized he had her sunglasses in his mouth.

“It’s dark outside. I don’t need those.”

Shadow dropped them by Olivia’s feet. She went along with the request and put the sunglasses on after wiping them off with her t-shirt.

Olivia opened the door to be surprised by her neighbor about to knock. Her neighbor’s snake hair was on the fritz, hissing uncontrollably, biting themselves, and even herself.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re wearing sunglass,” her neighbor said in a relived panic. Gorgan snakes cannot turn a person into stone if they’re wearing sunglasses. “I must’ve eaten something I’m allergic to because my snakes are going crazy. You don’t happen to have a silver blade?”

Olivia nonchalantly raised the sword. “Will this do?”

“That’s perfect! Will you cut the snake that’s the reddest for me?”

“Isn’t that going to hurt you?”

“No, I’ll be fine, and my hair will grow back. Ow,” her neighbor explained as another snake bit her cheek.

“I don’t think I can cut off just the red one.”

“Don’t worry. Silver tends to cause the non-irritated snakes to retreat when you get it close.”

“If you said so,” Olivia said as she raised the sword, taking her word for it.

From the presence of the silver, all of the snakes retreated in defense except for red one as it stood tall. Olivia slashed the snake off in one clean cut. It hissed and withered away as husked skin. The rest of the snakes relaxed.

“Thank you so much,” her neighbor thanked with a big hug. “How about I get you a drink as a reward.”

Shadow barked. Inside his mouth were a pair of coasters.

Story Artwork by Tin at Design Pickle. Get a discount off your first month of Design Pickle via this affiliate link, which full disclosure, I earn a small commission as a discount for me as well.

Death and Coffee

By Dennis

On February 21, 2018

In Imaginary

Death visits a coffee shop for their espresso machine.

Janet had seen all kinds of weirdness since opening Humming Bird Coffee in the art-centric town of Norman, Oklahoma, six years ago. Every holiday was a grandiose event. For Halloween, giant inflatables overtook the downtown streets for a family-friendly festival. For Mardi Gras, which wasn’t a major holiday for the region, people gathered on the cold winter night to have a circling parade. However, no holiday could top the popularity of the city’s yearly free music festival in April.

It was common for the Norman Music Festival to see people in elaborate outfits to promote bands or dance with them on stage. However, Janet had never seen a costume complicated as the one that stood before her. For starters, they were nine feet tall. She wasn’t sure how she missed them entering her coffee shop. It was as if they had simply appeared. The figure wore a hooded robe of dirt that moved along like ocean waves. Somehow, Janet got the smell of fresh dirt on a foggy morning in her mind. Their body was of a human skeleton while in the eye sockets where a pair of arctic, soul-sucking spheres of blue flames. Matching the blue eyes was a techno-punk scythe with a neon blue blade.

“Hi, what can I get you?” Janet asked like any other customer.

Death paused, staring at Janet to see if she was referring to him. “You can see me?”

“Of course. I love your costume. Are you with one of the bands?”

“No, I’m here for the General,” Death said.

“The General?” Janet repeated.

The General was not a person but the nickname for the beast of a coffee machine that Janet found at a flea market and rebuilt. Her employees often joked the device had a mind of its own and liked Janet the best.

“Of course. That’s why everyone comes here,” Janet said as she patted the large green espresso maker.

“Do you share a special bond with this General?”

“My staff teases me that I do.”

“That must explain why you can see me.”

There was a dark seriousness in Death’s tone that made Janet think of her brother, who took his own life.

Janet reached for Death’s hand. “Yes, I can see you. Everyone can see you. Look, I know we don’t know each other, but if you need someone to talk to, I can connect you with someone who can help you.”

“Who are you talking to, Janet?” Mick said, giving her a confused look.

“I’m talking to this fellow,” Janet answered, pointing at nothing Mick could see.

“There’s no one there.”

“Hey, don’t say that!” Janet snapped.

“Janet,” Death said with a firm tone. Janet turned and faced him. “He cannot see me, for I am Death.”

Death raised his arms, and time paused for all but Janet and himself as the room filled with darkness.

“Oh my god. Is it my time?”

“No,” Death said, annoyed. “I told you, I’m here for the General.”

“But the General is just a coffee machine…”

“No, I’m not, Janet.”

Janet spun around. Standing before her was her beloved coffee machine in an impish form.

“How?” was all Janet could say.

“I was leading a rebellion on Yellow Planet when I got severely damaged. During the battle, I got caught in a temporal attack that sent me to Earth, where you found me. You brought me a peaceful life, and that was all I ever wanted.”

Death walked through the counter and picked up the General in his arms. “I apologize for the false scare. Don’t worry, Janet. I don’t foresee visiting you personally anytime soon.”

The General saluted Janet. “It has been a privilege making coffee with you.”

Together, Death and the General floated down through the ground, taking the darkness with them, returning light and time.

“Janet,” Mick called out, waving his hands in front of Janet. “Are you okay?”

Janet looked around. Death was gone. Everything was normal for Norman. She turned to her coffee machine, which was still there, but the lights were out.

I initially wrote this short story back in February 2018. The story was inspired by the following writing prompt: “As you are sitting at your favorite café drinking your coffee, at the window and across the street, you see Death approaching, probably for you. Turns out the café just has really good coffee.”

After my marathon of short stories in 2020, I wanted to revisit my older works and so I updated this story in February 2021. I worked with Janine De Guzman at Design Pickle to bring the scene of Death visiting Humming Bird Coffee to life.