The inspiration:
A story:
“Carpentry?”
“No.”
“Farming?”
“No.”
“Hunting?”
“God, no.”
He looked up from his list, pale eyes hooded by bushy grey brows. She fidgeted under the cool, hard regard.
He glanced down “Any experience with fibers or cloth? Spinning, weaving, sewing?”
“No.” She sniffed, “I am a tenured professor in Gender & Women Studies and …”
“WAS,” he interrupted, “In case you haven’t noticed, the majority of your students, colleagues, and fellow citizens are gone. We’re starting from scratch. What can you do?”
“Um.”
He scribbled on the page, handed it to her, gesturing toward the door.
“Report to Stevens, latrine duty.”
******************************************************
Now, your turn.
Damn good one, Darleen.
Brilliant, Darleen.
Poignant and wickedly funny at the same time.
The EPA mandate eliminating larger, fossil-fuel-powered vehicles didn’t directly bring about the downfall of civilization, but it contributed.
Greetings:
I’ve had some experience incinerating feces but failed to include in on my “curriculum vitae”.
I don’t repeat myself. I don’t repeat myself. I…he’s the guy who repeats himself. I don’t repeat myself. I don’t repeat myself. I…he’s the guy who repeats himself. I don’t repeat myself. I don’t repeat myself. I…he’s the guy who repeats himself. I don’t repeat myself. I don’t repeat myself. I…he’s the guy who repeats himself. I don’t repeat myself. I don’t repeat myself. I…he’s the guy who repeats himself. I don’t repeat myself. I don’t repeat myself. I…he’s the guy who repeats himself. Have you seen my polls? M y polls! Polls! Polls!
Tesla-Google-Apple-Facebook-Hydra finally collapsed when their so called mega-collaboration, the self driving iCAC single passenger hover-convertible failed to find a market, and somehow mutated into a mechanical alpha-predator that hunted mankind. A few are rumored to have survived the coastal EMP bombardment rapidly coordinated under the aegis of the EPA and are sometimes seen in blurry digital pictures as if they are lurking for pedestrian prey in Louisiana swamps besides alligators or escaped feral pythons. Florida Dictator XxXJimmy-DAWGXxX was rumored to have thrown his enemies into pits with knock-offs intentionally programmed for hit and run. Salon wrote editorials in his defense.
hmm…
how did he know? she thought, her pretty face still smiling.
the din grew, crowding her mind.
when did he know? a tiny fear welling up in her mind, her smile fading.
what to do?
he watched the band, 70’s era rock, familiar, moving…he seemed at ease.
why?
“What are you talking about?” playful but cautious now.
“What does the FBI wants with me, Agent…Antonucci, is it?”
DAMMIT, she raged inwardly, pouting now, eyes betraying her.
told them!
resigned, ready to leave, looking away now. huh? a hand on hers…warm.
“Aren’t you going to finish your drink?”
[…] via Darleen […]
We walked gingerly around the worst of the muck. The rain had stopped but the air remained heavy. I called out to my partner, “where’s the body?”
He kept his eyes down. “Behind the fence, near the tree.”
“What was this place?”
“Amusement park. Hurricane Irene clobbered it. Never re-opened.” He paused. “Good place to hide a body.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Good place. Any ID?”
“Nothing. Blonde, female, short. That’s all we have.”
I sighed. “Like the others?”
My partner looked at me and glared. “Like the others. Why do you think they called us?”
Why indeed.
i used to love to bumpity-bump
but not no more now thanks to you
mister president rhymes with
Thanks, Darleen. I love happy endings!