May Prompt-athon: Shorts

 This May there have been several #authortubers on Youtube doing prompts. Here are a few of mine. 

May 22 Prompt with Sako Tumi– the Box - 40 minutes

Dr. Dorothy Otot took the lunch box her Aunt Emma prepared for her. Inside was a 10AM snack, 1PM lunch and 4PM snack, her metabolism tended to burn through the calories she ate and if she didn’t have an alarm on her watch to remind her when to eat, she would forget and begin losing weight again. The divorced mother of two was one of the country’s, and the world’s most valuable researchers in the quest for clean, renewable energy. She was chasing the math and proving her theories despite the nay-sayers. Many governments and corporate entities want a piece of the puzzle she was solving. If she succeeded, everything would change.

“Thanks, Auntie Em. You little monkeys be good for Auntie while Mommy’s at work making a better world for you.”

Dorothy kissed her twins, Leo and Poppy then headed to her lab. She had enough money from her missing father’s life insurance to buy into a small energy development thinktank. She waved at the security guard. Her research into a strange alien relic that seemed to generate its own energy had led to her discovery of the real possibility of a battery that once charged from the artifact’s strange power source would recharge itself. She theorized the artifact was tapping into some ambient background energy of the universe. It wasn’t Heisenberg’s zero-point energy, it was something else. It was an exciting discovery that she had presented to her fellow researchers only to be dismissed as a flight of fantasy, then she had shown them the proof and the math. They were still arguing about it when she left. After that, every corporation and government in the world started offering to buy it all.  

“Dr. Otot, that Witchwest Global’s acquisitions department guy called again… They offered you two hundred million this time.” Dr. Glenda North laughed as she looked at Dorothy’s deadpan expression.

“Seriously, Dorothy, take the money before they kill you to get the research.” Dr. Emmit Brown was her tech guy and looked 100% the mad scientist and he was a paranoid as they came.

“Witchwest Global already owns the world’s most advanced water purification methods, which they share with no one. And half the communication systems of half the planet and have controlling interest in all the major big pharma and big agra companies. They make money on potable water, communications, food, and medicine. They are not getting our clean energy research. You’re the one who keeps telling me to imagine a world with a zero-pollution power grid.” Dorothy tipped her head at him and the old man hugged her.

“Just making sure you aren’t temped by all those zeros,” taunting, Emmit laughed.

“I’m not. Ms. Witchwest could offer me ten times that and I would say no. This will mean my twins and your grandkids will live in a world without acid rain and carbon emissions from production plants, power facilities, and transportation. They will have free, clean energy. Our Tech will change the world and our children are not paying a dime to that megalomaniac billionaire for it.” Dorothy grinned as she proclaimed her noble aspirations. “We will give free energy to the world and she will have no choice but to share her socially beneficial tech to get mine or not use it.”

The dozen people working for Oz Research Incorporated all had the same goal for the last several decades; to make the world a better place. It had been a government think tank that was defunded so they became a privately held company. Then Dr. Otot came to them and all believed with Dorothy’s brilliant mind would be the key to achieving that goal if they could keep her and her work safe.  She was young enough to be their granddaughter or in Glenda’s case, great-granddaughter; they had been the most brilliant minds of their generations and Dorothy was the most brilliant mind of hers.

“You make us proud, Dorothy,” Glenda beamed.

Dorothy bowed in a whimsically way as Dr. Alexander Wizard stepped out of the testing lab. “I’m glad you’re here. Boxie is back and active again, we are getting a good charge.”

Dorothy stepped in the room that held a strange golden box that would appear and disappear at random. Dorothy had created a way to track its unique energy so they could find it and retrieve it when it vanished, then she figured out how to anchor it to the lab by reverse engineering its own tech to make it a landing pad of sorts. They managed to store the energy and then discovered that the energy was self-replicating at very small increments as time passed. It was a battery that would recharge itself simply by sitting on the shelf, they had also discovered the power cells could not be overcharged, no matter what they did.

Dorothy walked up to the golden box and attached several clamps to it. “Hello, old friend. Welcome back.”

The emerald star that floated above the alien box, turned to face her as if in greeting. A swirl of  rainbow iridescence shimmered from it.

“I missed you too.”

“What do you think is in the box?”

“There’s no way to open it.” Shrugging, Dorothy rested her hands on the strange box. “Begin the scans and charging protocol.”

Hours later, the box vanished in a flash of rainbow light and the cables dropped to the floor. 

“I wonder if it is raining outside,” Alexander asked and Emmit laughed, “Doesn’t it always rain when Boxie leaves. It probably hates bad weather like Dorothy.”

“I only hate tornados and I am sure Boxie shares my feeling. It always leaves right before the weather comes. Boxie is smart like that.” She tried to sound flippant and brave but truthfully tornados terrified her. Her father disappeared in a tornadic storm while she was pregnant, and she missed him. She only remembered waking up in field near his house unharmed.

“It’s not an A.I.,” Glenda rolled her eyes. “Stop talking about it like it is alive.”

“But it could be,” Dorothy giggled, playing the devil’s advocate to Glenda’s stern look. “It always looks at the person talking. It has some awareness.”

Glenda shook her head and pointed to the door. “Go check the weather and go home for dinner, or Emma will yell at me for you missing a meal.”

“Goodnight,” Dorothy wished them all well and was surprised to open the door to a gust of violent wind.

The sky above the valley was churning and black lightning flashed in freakish inverse like the film negative of a photograph. She was horrified to see an immense black vortex consuming the town. Dorothy rushed out into the maelstrom.

“Dr. Otot, get back inside!”

Ignoring the guard, Dorothy ran for her house. All she could think about was her sons and auntie. The debris of the Oz Research Incorporated lab flew past her like confetti. There were winged creatures in the storm. Swooping down, they clung to her neighbors or dragged them from homes to keep them from seeking shelter from the maelstrom Dorothy managed to escape the ghoulish winged ape that grabbed her. Running through the park, trees were crashing down around her or being twisted and broken off into stumps. Dodging a piece of picket fence, she collided with a door and flew through the air with it. It slammed her hard onto the ground and everything flashed emerald green and rainbow iridescent.

Waking slowly, sunlight beckoned. Crawling out from under the heavy door wedged between the twisted stumps of two trees, Dorothy stared in horror. The town was gone, the valley transformed into a lush green meadow. The only debris was in a two-meter circle around her and the broken trees. Boxie sat on the grass with its emerald star facing her, Leo and Poppy were asleep on either side of it. They weren’t in Kansas anymore.

“Boxie? Where did you bring us?”

“Home,” Said a voice she hadn’t heard in years.

May 26^th  – Laurel Webb and Sam Wicker 20 minutes

Prompt 1: The song the stars sing is ancient, cold, and bitter.

The Star People.

Laying on the grass, she listened to her mother's voice telling her about the star people. Singing the songs of the ancients about grace and hope. The moon rose with its halo of silver and twinkling ​lights. The warmth on her chest had nothing to do with the light.

"Listen for the song of the stars, my daughter, and you will always find peace."

It was so long ago. Before the Coming, before the ​Cull. Myrna knew the truth now as she bled out listening to the approaching tread of the angelic beings who killed her. The song the stars sang was ancient, but also came with a cold and bitter truth.

The star people were never our friends. They were never our allies. The myths of the ancient peoples of the world were lies left behind to make future generations welcome them. They came to harvest us not realizing we had harvested something from the debris of their ships that crashed; one in Tunguska, Russia, and one in Roswell, New Mexico. There were WMDs so much worse than nukes, chemicals, and bioweapons. Our governments used the worst of them to save us, and it did. We got them, killed them, we won!

We thought we won… Then the second wave came. Now they are starting over, just like they did with the dinosaurs. Those clever lizards won against the first wave too.  Now, we are following them into extinction. They’re almost here. I’m almost out of blood. I wonder who they will evolve next? I hope they have a better chance than we did. I look at the stars, so ancient, so distant. I feel cold... I feel bitter... We never had a chance.

 

 

Ally Deathridge May 29 40 minutes

Prompt: There I was just standing there when what I wanted to do was forbidden

Elements: blue index cards, the last of the tooth paste, half eaten box of fig newtons

There I was, just standing there when what I wanted to do was forbidden. The news blasted out the alerts that we were all housebound again. The last of the toothpaste turning to foam as I brushed my teeth. I spat. I watched the foamy messed go down the drain as I listened.

“Under the tightening protocols, the federal quarantine department has announced that all residences and businesses marked with a blue index card sized notice are considered contaminated zones and should not be entered under any circumstances. The FQD has…”

While the announcer droned on in an overly serious tone, I opened my kitchen cabinets. Today was my day to pick up a grocery order, meds from the pharmacy, and enjoy an hour outside. I had a package of ramen, small can of beanie weenies, some crackers, and a half-eaten box of fig newtons. I shrugged into my coat and put on my mask, determined to go out anyway. People went out all the time during the last five pandemics and I needed my stuff. I hoped the bodega had coffee this time.

The wind howled between the brownstones and leaves blew in in spiral dances down the street as I walked the three blocks. When I got to the pharmacy, the door was unlocked but the store was empty.

“Hello? Mr. Ocampa?” Shaking my head, I pulled what I wanted off the shelves, including a new box of fig newtons, then climbed over the counter and got my prescriptions. I scanned my own purchase and paid with a card. Grateful for the summers spent as his cashier. Walking out, I noticed a blue index card on the door.

Ignoring it, I went to the grocery. I could hear popping sounds far away, their rapid staccato sounded like drumsticks on metal. As I walked, I noticed more blue cards.

I saw a few people ambling about. The 177^th Street Bodega was also empty. As I opened the door, blue confetti danced across on the floor.

“Mrs. Tran? I’m here for my order. Hello? It’s Una Year, I came for my order.” I repeated loudly.

No one answered. Shaking my head, I went into the back and up to the apartment above. No one was home. In the storeroom behind the main store, the pickup orders were meticulously organized by address. I noticed my elderly neighbor had an order too. I put them both in a shopping cart. I grabbed some extra ramen and more toothpaste, then left a note and started home. Mrs. Tran could just bill my card as she had done since pandemic three when the infection had spread on paper currency. I worked from home since the first pandemic so the FQD’s latest lockdown meant nothing to me. It didn’t matter, I could order anything I wanted from Amazon, but I didn’t order my groceries from them because my therapist told me to leave my home once per week. My weekly requirement to get out of the house was met, and I had my groceries and meds, though I did regret not being able to go to the park today. Autumn was always my favorite time of year.

I saw no one else as I walked. A car careened around a corner and sped down the street as I carried my bags in. As the door closed, I heard a siren and shooting. Peeking out, I watched the car chase. Shaking my head, I walked upstairs to my flat, then went to my neighbor’s door. There was a sealed card with my name on it. Opening it, I read her shaking script.

“Went to see the grandkids before those paranoid doctors shut down the country again.”

Sighing, I carried her groceries up to my flat. We were the only two in the building so I would just keep her nonperishables until she returned. In my flat, I tuned my wireless headphones to my favorite spotify playlist and began working.

One week later, the news seemed to be on repeat. I only watched on the day I left the apartment for the weather. My therapist said I should avoid the news and social media at all costs because it triggered my anxiety.

Same warning about staying inside and having no contact with people. Be ware of the blue cards… blah blah blah.

I wouldn’t go to the pharmacy again, and the park was out, but I was determined to pick up my groceries. Going out, it felt much colder than the weather segment said. Again I saw no one but oddly, I also heard no traffic, no planes, no dogs, or anything. I was looking up at the leaves when I bumped something with the cart. I saw it, or rather him. A man… a dead man with his skin turned mottled. Black tears had leaked from his eyes and dried like cheap makeup. His leg sticking out from the pile of trash bags on which he fell. His teeth clenched and bared by purple lips pulled back in a grimace. I had never seen a dead body before. Jumping back, I sprinted to the 177^th Street Bodega as I dialed 9-1-1. No one answered, just a recording.

“Help me,” I yelped as I stumbled in the door. “Mrs. Tran… Mr. Tran? Anyone?!”

The Bodega looked exactly as I had left it. It was so eerie. No one was here either. Panicked, I ran from door to door, begging for help while listening to the recording telling me, due to heavy call volume, response would be delayed. No one answered the doors. I was completely alone. My mind shut down and I went on auto-pilot. Going to the back, I noticed for the first time the power was out. I could smell the rotting fresh food in the delivery bags. The only ones missing were the ones I had taken.  I vomited in the bin by the desk.

Filling another cart with cans and boxes, I piled the last of the unspoiled fruits and vegetables on top and was glad the cool temps had saved them from spoiling. I went home on the opposite side of the street from the body. Looking up at the solar panels on the roof, I wondered how long the power had been out. That was when I noticed a blue card on the door. I looked at it carefully.

“By FQD orders, all residents of New York are to shelter in place due to exposure. If a member of your family experiences sudden death, remove the body immediately and place it in a locked room or secured basement.” Instructions on decontaminating oneself followed. 

Going inside I climbed up on the roof and looked toward the Washington Bridge. There were hundred or thousands of cars stopped. There were no boats on the river or helicopters in the air. Nothing to show that I wasn’t completely alone. Inside turned on the tv again. Every four hours, the same news broadcast repeated. On the internet, I read horrific stories of mass deaths. The fact that my landlord had taken this house off the grid had staved off the realization when the city power shut down weeks earlier. In my anti-media bubble, the one I created to keep my anxiety at bay, I had not known the world ended.