Happy Friday everyone! Here’s a little story I wrote, hope you like it!
Love Bites by Adam Wright
The zombies were dead. The doors were bolted. I fell in love.
She sat across from me, a light cut on her forehead. Red blood trickled down her face in tiny droplets. Her hair was short. It doesn’t pay to have long hair when undead creatures grab at it. At one time it was dirty blonde. We’d been through a lot together. I was a wall street broker and she was my barista. We’d met each other day after day for years. I didn’t know her name and she always misspelled mine. In the end it didn’t matter.
We knew the drill. Get inside, barricade yourself. Clear the area if any were left. Check for wounds. Scratches hurt but would heal. Bites were the end. Once bitten, there was only one end. I would prefer a bullet to the head over becoming one of those things. She agreed.
When you go out into the world amongst diseased and desiccated corpses, there is a smell. It hangs there like rotted meat swarmed by maggots. Most of the world smells that way now. So even as we run together, sweat and body odor rising into our nostrils, the human smell of it is all you want to cling to. The aliveness of the other person. It’s comforting even when you know your life could end at any moment. You’d do anything to protect that one other living thing next to you.
We learned to trust each other. She saved my life on the day of the outbreak. I was lucky enough to be at the front of the line and she grabbed my hand and rushed us to the exit. We evaded the mass of undead. We hid in sewers and raided grocery stores. I found weapons. We both learned to shoot. I still prefer the aluminum bat.
I knew enough to get a campfire started on that first day. We soon learned that was a bad idea. We still do it when we’re locked indoors and can make sure no light is let in. You can’t fall asleep though or the fire will take you.
We’ve done everything right for as long as we can. We have survived. I’ve tried not to fall in love. When you get close to someone it’s a weakness. I have seen couples come and go. Usually one ends up shooting the other. It’s good to have a partner. Bad to be in love.
If I was going to fall in love with anyone in my life it would have been her. We didn’t know each other well but she was always kind. I tipped well. I didn’t want love to begin with but now I had the worst kind of love. A dangerous love.
The real problem? I didn’t love her for her body, her kind soul, or her good deeds. I loved her for her brains. The bite didn’t even sting anymore.
Without saying a word, I passed her the gun and closed my eyes.
Happy Friday everyone! Here’s a little story I wrote, hope you like it!
Totality
During the eclipse I saw my life flash before my eyes. Jennifer held my hand, her soft fingers interlaced with mine. We were both a little breathless after climbing up the hill to get to the best vantage point in the neighborhood. She was not just an amateur astronomer, she was about to earn her doctorate in the science. But her eyes still lit up at the idea of an eclipse. And she wanted to spend it with me.
We had set out folding chairs, filled our thermos up with hot cocoa, layered up in our warmest winter jackets and waited for the early evening when the eclipse was predicted. A total eclipse of the sun this time. As she explained to me the vast distances between us, the moon, and the sun from the moon, I couldn’t help feeling her passion. It was the way I felt about her.
For about the millionth time she reminded me not to look directly at the sun. I had no plans to do so. We looked through our eclipse glasses and they reminded me of watching a 3D movie. There were plenty of other couples and families around us. I thought briefly of what it would be like when we had kids.
Then she gripped my arm and gave a little gasp.
“First contact,” she said.
I thought of Star Trek. But then I realized she meant the eclipse was happening.
It seemed like forever as the sun dimmed and the black shadow of the moon grew. I started to feel a pit in my stomach grow. There was something unsettling about it to me.
Eventually she whispered in my ear, “Second contact, Isn’t this exciting?”
I nodded but I felt as if I was becoming weightless. A strange smell wafted into my nose. It was a smell of rot and decay.
Her hand gripped mine tighter and suddenly it didn’t feel like her young, soft skin. It was hard bone. I tried to look at the eclipse, fearing what I would see beside me.
When a rattly whisper came again from my right side, the voice sounded like Jennifer’s grandmother.
“Totality.”
Suddenly I was spinning. I closed my eyes against the total darkness.
When I opened them I remembered where I am now. In this hospital. In this bed where they bring me pills. They tell me it will make me better but they are liars.
I know what happened on the day of the eclipse. The moment it was over, just as Jennifer said, “Fourth contact” I bent down on one knee and brought out the ring. She said yes.
The smell of decay had been my own from this very bed. Foul and filthy. I hate it. The feeling of unease was my mind telling me I was about to come back to this hell of a reality.
On that day, when I felt myself spin I saw the two of us married, we had five children, she became famous and I became an accountant. That’s what I thought would happen. In reality, she did become famous, at least, among academics. She wrote several books. I became an office drone for a tech company. We only had two kids.
But that memory of the eclipse, the things I saw that moment? They felt more real than anything I experienced.
Now, it’s cruel. I am there. There with my Jennifer, about to relive the most important thing in my life, with my love. I see it, I feel it. But then a man in scrubs snaps his fingers at me and says, “Hello Mr. Sinclair, how are we today?”
I’m confused. I don’t know who he is or where I am for a moment. He is not Jennifer and as far as how I am? I tell him. “I’m shit today. Who are you?”
He tells me but I don’t remember him five minutes later. My children come to me. Sometimes, I think Patty is Jennifer. At least, that’s what they tell me. I only know that day, that moment. The eclipse. If I can get back there to that moment, I could do it all over again with her. Perfect, the way it was.
They shove applesauce at me on a tray. The lights are bright. Like looking at the sun. Jennifer would not approve. The bony skeleton hand I feel when I remember that day is my own. I wake up holding my own hand, thinking it’s Jennifer. She’s been gone for so long.
I want to be out on the grass with her again. Full of life and youth and possibility. Waking up and seeing that your love is gone, you are old, and there are strangers everywhere? It’s hell. It’s a nightmare. I just want to rest. I want to see Jennifer again. There is only that moment for me. That moment, that day, her amber eyes tearing up. Her kiss on my lips. That’s the moment I want forever. And I keep getting it, only to come back here. To find an old man in an old body with a confused mind at the end of his life. A well lived life but one this old man can’t remember. I feel about as far from my youth as the moon is from the sun. But I can remember the eclipse.
As I grow irritated and sleepy once again, I see Jennifer’s young face. I feel her hand grip mine. She places glasses on my eyes so I can see the eclipse. I hear the words again.
“First contact. Second contact. Isn’t this exciting? Totality.” My nerves are on edge, my stomach is spinning. I’m about to ask the most important question of my life.
“Fourth contact.”
“Will you marry me?”
As my eyes darken for what might be the last time I hear her voice. I always hear her voice. She says, “Yes. In totality.”
Happy Friday everyone! Hope you all are having a good week. Here’s a little story I wrote, hope you like it!
New Year, New… Me?
When I awoke in the new year I looked in the mirror. I wish I had not done that. There were warning signs. In the dark of the room where I woke, my feet pressed against a footboard on a bed too small for my body. I wasn’t sure why but my fingers felt… thinner. And longer. It was a room I was familiar with. One I’d been in many times. My friend Pete must have given up his bed for me. I didn’t recall drinking the night before but I had no clear memory of it either.
I was wearing button up flannel pajamas. I have never, in my life, worn flannel anything. And I was wearing a… ring? A gold band. Oh shit. Did I get so hammered I got married last night? I rubbed my chin to find no beard. A bit of stubble but no beard. Whatever happened couldn’t have been good.
I walked into the bathroom. I took a deep breath, trying to keep it together. Then I turned on the light. Pete’s face looked back at me in the mirror. I stumbled backwards and hit my head. Pete’s head I guess. It still hurt me though. If I was in Pete’s body, where was Pete?
I’m a relatively cool headed person. I keep it together when everyone else loses it in board meetings. I knew the first thing to do here was to stay calm. I got dressed, wearing clothes from Pete’s closet, socks from his dresser, and I put on Pete’s shoes. No one saw me leave Pete’s house.
I walked three houses down to my house. It’s a big yellow house with white trim. I should’ve repainted it a decade ago. I realized I didn’t have my key but it didn’t matter. As I walked up to it, a woman I have never seen walked out, a toddler in hand.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Just wondering if this is for sale?” I figured my quick thinking would cover any awkwardness.
“Pete, you’re joking. We talked about this at length last night. Bad enough Rosey keeps trying to get me to sell. At least she’s an agent. Aren’t you like a stockbroker or something?”
“Mutual funds.” I muttered. I knew that’s what Pete did. We’d been best friends since third freaking grade.
“Right. Well anyway the answer is still no and I’ve got to get the kiddo to daycare so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be off.”
In a daze, I just moved aside. If I was Pete, and someone else lived in my house, where was I? Who was I?
I waited around, sitting on the pavement for hours outside of Pete’s house. I watched for signs of myself coming or going from anywhere. Nothing.
As the sun went down and the air got cooler, I decided to head back into Pete’s house. I knew his wife would be back soon. Every year she spent New Years Eve with her mother and came back late the next day. I didn’t know what I would do when I saw her. How could I explain to her where Pete had gone? Anything I tried would sound out of this world, put me in an institution, crazy. But her husband was… Well, I didn’t know where the real Pete was.
When I did see Rosey, the last thing I expected happened. She walked up to me, her brunette hair tied in a bun, her hands full of luggage, and her chestnut brown eyes staring at me, and she gave me the most passionate, loving kiss.
Confession time. I’ve been in love with Rosey since before Pete even met her. I introduced the two of them. I never stood in Pete’s way because, well, Pete does love her, and he’s a good man. Was? I’m not sure.
When Rosey pulled away, I opened my mouth to try to say something. To find some way to explain. But suddenly, it was like I was Pete. I could remember everything Pete had done with Rosey. I remembered the scent of the perfume she used on our wedding day. Pete’s wedding day. I remembered the first time I made her laugh so hard she snorted. It was Pete telling the joke but it was now, my memory, from Pete’s point of view. There was the time the two of us went white water rafting and I fell overboard and Rosey just laughed as I struggled to swim back to the boat. I still found it embarrassing but Rosey thought it was hilarious. I should say, Pete found it embarrassing, but he was somehow me.
It took only a few moments for me to feel like I was Pete. But there has always been this small part of me that knows I am not. I had all of Pete’s memories, knowledge and skills. The next day, I went to Pete’s work and did Pete’s job.
Through the years I looked for myself. There was no record of my mother or father. I went to all of the addresses I had lived in. Even the college dorms but there was never any mention of me.
I grew old with Rosey. We had children together. I’ve tried a couple of times to explain this situation to her but it never makes any sense. Pete’s gone, yet Pete is me. And I’m, well I guess I’m here.
I can’t complain much. Rosey is the best person I know and my life has been full of bliss and wonder. But where the hell is Pete? I hope he’s okay but somehow I don’t think he is. Every year I wake up on New Years Day thinking this is the year it will switch back. It’ll snap me back to reality and I’ll lose Rosey but gain Pete.
But so far, since that first year, it’s always been New year… new me. Maybe next year. Who knows?
Happy Friday everyone! Hope you all are having a good week. Here’s a little story I wrote, hope you like it!
At Death’s Door by Adam wright
Dee sat at her desk, laptop in front of her, warm coffee in hand and logged into the system. She worked her way through the myriad of safety and security protocols to enter the system. Putting in passwords when prompted, authenticating when needed, and feeling like this would never end, she barely registered Gary walking into her office.
Gary stood there in his slim fit suit, simple black tie and clean cut hair and cleared his throat. Dee ignored him. She opened her inbox and saw the backlog of work she had to do. Overdue on more projects than she cared to count, she knew answering Gary would delay things further.
Gary knocked three times, the sound echoing in the little office. He wasn’t going away anytime soon. Dee noticed a slip of pink paper in his hand and had the sudden realization that this conversation was about to get serious.
“What do you want, Gary? I’m pretty busy. As always.”
“It’s not what I want. It’s from upstairs. We need to talk.”
Shit. Anything from upstairs was a pain. Hell, anything from downstairs was a pain also. But you can’t just ignore the orders from above, even if the messenger here was the most annoying person in the whole damn office.
“I’m listening. What do they want?” Dee tried to keep her focus on the laptop but her ears began echoing in her head, the sounds of the outside world trying to crash in on her.
“First off, you have to know, Dee… if I can call you Dee… this isn’t from me.”
“Obviously. You already said it’s from upstairs.”
Gary’s hand shook as he stuck out the paper towards Dee. She didn’t take it.
“Okay, so just, please remember, I like you. It’s bad news but I don’t want it this way, they do. There’s nothing I can do to change their minds. They’re letting you go.”
Dee resisted the impulse to throw her coffee at Gary. She knew that would accomplish nothing. This was the time for a rational adult conversation.
“What does that mean exactly? Letting me go? Do they have any idea how important what I do is?”
Gary scratched at his collar but kept the pink slip in his hand.
“Look… it means what it sounds like. You don’t work here anymore. Your services are no longer needed. In fact, it is kind of unclear what you do. You show up here every day, same time, same coffee in hand. You log in, you go through an inbox and then what? What exactly happens at that point?”
Dee let out a long sigh. Explaining this to Gary would be impossible. Explaining to those upstairs was nearly impossible too. That didn’t mean her services were not absolutely essential.
“Trust me. Without my services things are going to get… messy. There’ll be a lot of clean up nobody wants. I’m happy to sit here and do my job. I like my job. I’m not bothering anyone else. I just do my thing, wait for the annual check in, and move on with my life. What’s wrong with that?”
Gary crossed his arms, a sure sign he was losing patience. He set the pink slip of paper on Dee’s desk. She didn’t touch it.
“You’re not making any forward progress. Where’s your ambition? Where are your career goals? I mean, you’ve been doing the same thing day in and day out forever. It’s time for a change. It’ll be good for you. Good for all of us. We all need a change. Now’s the time for you to change too.”
Dee rocked back in her swivel chair and took in a deep breath.
“Gary, you have to just trust me on this. If I am gone, this place is going to have issues. Real issues. The people upstairs, and the people downstairs, are going to have to get involved. No one wants that, do they?”
Gary’s expression changed to one of feigned sympathy. Dee didn’t know why the people upstairs were such cowards. They should at least have had the guts to get rid of her themselves.
“I don’t have any choice here, Dee. I can help you pack up. Hell, I’ll buy you an iced latte on the way out. Don’t make me call security. Please?”
“Have they said I have done a bad job? Violated any rules?”
“No.”
“Then what ground do they have to stand on?”
Gary suppressed a small laugh.
“You know they never have been the type to stand on firm ground. But it’s orders. I have to carry out orders. Can’t you just go peacefully?”
Dee clutched her coffee and stood up. She grabbed her gray wool coat and her red leather purse and looked Gary in the eyes.
“I’m not doing anything that isn’t peaceful. I’m just telling you, this is a mistake. And it’s going to be costly. But, as you say, orders are orders. I’ll get my stuff and go. Just remember this: When you all want to bring me back in and ask me to clean up the whole mess, the answer is no.”
Her dignity intact, Dee walked out of the office and onto the street. All she had to do was wait. She was at a busy intersection where cars flew past, bikers made their way precariously in the bike lanes, and pedestrians jostled past one another.
Twenty minutes later, it happened. A Ford Mustang hit a tan SUV in the intersection, a bicyclist caught between them. A head on collision, one that left no room for doubt about the fate of the bicyclist. Except, Dee no longer had a job. There was nothing she could do. The bicyclist stood, a piece of metal jutting out of his chest. It should have impaled him to death. He screamed in agony. There was still nothing Dee could do. He was going to be the first of many to meet such a fate. Reluctantly, she walked away, feeling the cool breeze on her face.
She walked the earth in those later days, watching all the pain go around, never able to end it. She wanted to help. But death was out of a job.
