Fiction Friday: [Rebranding]

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They arrived without fanfare. Just appeared out of the blue one day. Silver orbs hovering high in the sky above New York City, silent and reflective. No matter the weather or time of day, they were always there. And as the months passed, they began to pop up all over the world.

Once everyone realized it wasn’t some elaborate publicity stunt, panic set in. Speculation on the orbs’ intentions dominated every conversation. Trusted news networks booked Ancient Alien Conspiracy Theorists as their pundits and the theorists were more than happy to leave behind their novelty shows on the Discovery Channel. The anticipation of lasers shooting toward the earth, and destroying us all, cast a shadow over every moment of every day.

But time passed and nothing happened. The orbs just continued to hover silently above. It wasn’t long before the fear turned into anger. Anger born from the idea that we were being judged. It was as if there was nothing more jarring than knowing we were being fully seen, warts and all.  

So, wars were paused and the poor were fed. Fairer laws were passed and no one was left to suffer sleepless nights on the street. There was never a mandate, it just happened. We were human after all, so it wasn’t surprising when the world as a whole adopted a “we’ll show them” attitude.

Kindness spread and gathered steam as easily as hate had for too long. Growing with every act performed in its name, kindness eventually became second nature. And not once did anyone shoot an “I told you so” up to the sky. If they had, they would have noticed that the orbs were gone. 

Moxie Monday: On To The Next

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Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!

Fiction Friday [Landline]

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My eyes shot open and I was greeted with darkness. A thick, coal murkiness meant only to keep one cradled in the bosom of sleep. It was the harsh bleat of the landline begging for attention, over and over, that woke me. Oval-ish and corded, it sat on the nightstand next to Ben’s side of the bed. In theory the placement was perfect, since his parents were the only ones to ever use the number.

The uninterrupted, meditative rise and fall of the lump next to me, fully illustrated the flaw in the plan. I reached over and patted his shoulder with all of the middle of the night strength I could muster.

“Ben. Phone.”

As I gathered the energy to tap him again, the phone stopped ringing. Relieved, I melted into the comforting silence and grew hypnotized by Ben’s steady breathing. Despite my irritation with his deep sleep, I was appreciative for the rare moment of actually sharing a bed with my husband. Since he started his residency at St. Luke’s, these moments were few and far between.

The shrill tone of the antiquated telephone cut through the silence with the ease of a butter knife cutting an overcooked steak. I let loose a growl as my fists bounced weakly against the mattress.

Expecting Ben to answer at this point was only an exercise in frustration, and leaving it to ring would only lead to another call, so I took a deep breath and rose to my elbows. Reaching over Ben, I patted blindly for the phone.

“Hello?” I said, making sure my voice was extra groggy in hopes that this time the in-laws would remember to mind the time difference.

“Hey, honey. Sorry to wake you but I forgot what you needed me to pick up on the way home.”

Ben’s words fell away as a hot wave of panic crept and weaved its way through every molecule in my body. Fear choked at my vocal chords and I couldn’t respond. My brain, still stuck in the sludge of sleep, fought to understand.

“Nina?” Ben’s voice echoed through the receiver clutched to my ear. “Did you hear me?”

His question was answered by the scream of terror that ripped from my throat as the lump slowly turned toward me.   

Moxie Monday: Take Your Turn

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Fiction Friday: [Halloween 1984]

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The mask
was a concentrated heatwave.
Every exhale filled the nooks and crannies
of the pre-BPA free plastic and
applied layer after layer
of slickness.
The slits at the nose and mouth,
embarrassed by their uselessness.

The body,
slipped over my street clothes
like a doctor heading into surgery.
and tied at the back,
proudly displayed the name across
my chest…
in case the mask wasn’t enough.

The world
had to know,
there could be no doubt
that I was, indeed,
Strawberry Shortcake.

Moxie Monday: Never Give Up

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Fiction Friday: [A Study in Human Behavior on the C Train]

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I clenched my jaw against the screech of metal grinding against metal and didn’t relax until it stopped. The subway car filled with the droning hum of an idling train. And the groans of my fellow commuters.

It happened way too often for me to be concerned and nine times out of ten we’d be moving again in under a minute, so I remained quiet behind my New York Post. No point wasting the energy when I knew work would stress me out enough.

Peeking over the paper, my eyes skimmed over heads buried in books, those happy to have an extra minute of time in a world far from the bowels of New York City. My focus was drawn to the faces already painted in panic. The man who stood in front of me mumbling swear words under his breath. The huffers and the grumblers. The eye darters, the feet tappers, the head shakers. And to those who needed the entire train to understand how inconvenienced they were by the situation.  

It wasn’t like I relished in other people’s discomfort. I was just captivated by human nature. Like how a situation could yield such a variety of reactions based on the culmination of individual factors that led them to this very moment. It was fascinating.

A pin drop silence filled the car when the idling hum came to an abrupt end. I stretched my jaw to clear the cotton ball stuffed feeling it caused in my ears and enjoyed the ten seconds of muted confusion before the realization kicked in and the air filled with irritation and impatience. Even the most passive of commuters joined in. We were going to be here for a while.

The crackly fizz of the intercom drew everyone’s attention. Every ear dutifully tilted upward as if straining their necks would help to translate the marbled words woven deep within the static. The announcement ended, none of us any more informed about the delay than before. This only served to garner more outbursts and exaggerated sighs from the attention seekers, more shuffling and nibbling from the nervous Nellies. Even the bookworm’s faces flashed annoyance before digging their noses back into their fantasy worlds.

Moments later, the lights flickered above right before the train jerked forward. The man standing in front of me knocked heavily into the woman next to him. He muttered an apology under his breath, but nose in book, she barely even noticed. Applause dappled around the train car, the strings of tension loosening. As the air thinned, I sat exhausted by the choppy waves of emotion that had crashed all around me...in the past three minutes.

Moxie Monday: Step By Step

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Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!