infinitesimal fiction

(it's like fiction, only smaller)

Choice

Sarah woke with a start. She shifted to look at her alarm clock. Seventeen minutes until it was due to go off. God bless it, had she finally reached the age where she started getting up earlier and earlier? The next thing you know she'd be eating dinner at four thirty and going to bed after the six o'clock news. She was only 49 for Pete's sake. Her husband was sleeping soundly beside her, his soft snore comforting. It was then Sarah realized that was the only sound she heard. The morning was eerily still. Dawn was creeping in slowly, pale light was visible between the slats of her blinds, but the atmosphere was uncommonly devoid of sound. No early birds chirping, no tires on the road carrying commuters to the office, no barking dogs. Weird, she thought. Suddenly, the alarm sounded, and she grabbed her chest with one hand while slapping at the clock with the other.

"Good night, Irene!" Sarah let out a long breath and chuckled to herself.

"What's so funny?" Abe wanted to know, looking bewildered and not quite awake.

"Nothing, hon. Just time to get up. Put the coffee on?"

"Yep, let me get it together here" Abe slipped his house shoes on and stood to retrieve his robe. Sarah loved the routine of it all. Like everything in the world was as it should be.

"Babe, they didn't throw my paper this morning." Her husband was also a creature of habit.

"Just go steal Dave's paper, he puts his straight into the recycle bin, I don't know why he even takes it in the first place."

"I'm way ahead of you, but the funny thing is, there aren't any papers on block, as far as I can tell. And another thing, I couldn't hear any cars in the neighborhood. I mean, not a sound. You know?"

"Is it a holiday and we forgot?" Sarah wondered aloud, but she knew in her heart that wasn't it.

In the following weeks they began to piece together some semblance of the truth. That same morning Sarah and Abe discovered that their neighborhood was empty. When a trip to the gas station and grocery store produced no signs of life they searched each store in the tiny shopping center, no closer to the answers they were beginning to be desperate for. It was as if everyone had stayed home. Then came the knocking on doors and windows, they left no house on their block untouched. When no one answered, they began checking for unlocked doors. They found several, and why shouldn't they? Nothing bad ever happened in this neighborhood.

At first they were uncomfortable with the invasion of privacy. Sarah even left notes of apology in the first few houses. She stopped when the overwhelming evidence of uneaten breakfasts, clothes laid out for a day of school or work, cars left in garages, told her they were really gone. And they were not coming back.

Eventually, Abe discovered there was no cell service, the television channels were all snow, and the internet was down. He wondered how long the electricity would last.

The fearfully cried together for a day or two, and then began pulling themselves together. They would drive to their daughter's colleges and hopefully learn of their fate. Surely, not everyone in the whole entire world was missing? Since there was no way to contact the girls, they would get into Abe's Dodge Ram 4X4 and travel from gas station to gas station. As near as they could tell, whatever had happened occurred just before six a.m., two weeks ago, and most gas stations were already up and running by then. The pumps were still working, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to go inside and flip the switch. Abe couldn't get his GPS to work either, so they would get a map from each place they stopped. The trip would be a grueling sixteen hundred miles, which equated to three days if they didn't stop too many times.

As they headed out of town, Sarah speculated. "What if they're gone, Abe?"

"Honey, I know this is hard but they're going to be there. They just have no way of getting hold of us."

"But what if?"

"Sweetie, I don't know," Abe shook his head. "I don't even know how to wrap my brain around being the only two people left on earth. Everything we know has changed, and our options have just become infinite."

"I'm just saying, we did a great job as parents and they turned out fabulous. I don't think I would want to press my luck, that's all."

"Good Lord, Sarah! I can't even think about what you're trying to say. You are saying that, for all intents and purposes, if we are actually the last people on earth, that the species dies with us? You wouldn't want to 'press your luck' ,so to speak, by having more children?"

"Yes, I guess that's what I'm getting at. I'm forty nine years old. You're fifty three. And besides, look what a horrible mess we humans have made of this world as it is. Maybe it could use some rest. Maybe that's why everyone is gone."

Abe sat silent, looking out at the empty highway as they traveled. He seemed content for the moment to just drive.

Finally, he nodded, a grim smile breaking the plane of his face. "Okay, then. Whatever the case may be, you and I will just enjoy whatever time we may have left. No sense in bringing in reinforcements, this earth can take better care of itself than we ever did."

"Good. If we get where we're going and there's no one to get to," Sarah felt a lump in her chest with that statement, "let's detour and see some of the vacation spots."

Then, like a light bulb had gone on, she said, "How funny. I guess, technically, this makes me pro-choice."

Word count: 996 (oooohhh, definitely Flash Fiction)

infinitesimal fiction

(it's like fiction, only smaller)

Cognizance

If you had told Charles even three hours ago that he would be experiencing this moment, he would never have believed you. His mind drifted to this morning when he and his beautiful Belinda had been looking for trinkets at a quaint little shop in China Town. She had wanted a Hanfu, and whatever his buxom blonde wanted, she got. He had also picked up a jade and sandstone chess set, a teak back scratcher with a jeweled handle , and an assortment of incense cones. Funny, that he now recalled the shop keeper trying to give him a bundle of bamboo sticks. She had instructed Charles to burn them to keep away evil spirits. As his eyes began to glaze, his brain fogging, he envisioned the unlit bamboo on the kitchen island next to the empty wine bottle. He sensed the lifeless body of his fiance beside him, and he reached up to grab at the hardened fingers around his throat. Charles felt the splinters embedded in his hand, and wondered where he had put that damn lighter, just as the darkness claimed him.

(word count: 185)

infinitesimal fiction

(it's just like fiction, only smaller)

I cannot believe it, but I finally wrote something!! The idea of a bite sized story really helped me not be overwhelmed. So much so, that I think I did NOT write Microfiction. It ended up being 619 words! Which, correct me if I'm wrong, is actually Flash Fiction.

Still..... WOW! I wrote! I am posting my story below, so please feel free to comment and/or let me know if this is Flash ('Cause I'm pretty sure it's not micro.)
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Waiting
by CE Wood

Kris looked around the room and tried to hide her disgust. She didn’t belong here, with this group of freaks. It was harsh, but brutal honesty was always more appropriate than a sensitive lie. She reached up to touch her temple. A wisp of honey gold had escaped from her bun. She tucked it behind her ear and adjusted her glasses.

“Well,” a low, smoky voice slid past her ear. “Where have you been?”

Kris looked up to see a tall platinum blonde dressed in black leather leering from under enormous fake eyelashes.

“I’m sorry, have we met?” Kris was uncomfortable.

“Oh, no, I would have remembered you. My name is Carlotta. I meant, ‘Where have you been all my life?’”

Kris looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. She couldn’t decide what was more humiliating, that she was being publicly ogled by an Amazonian Marilyn Monroe, or that she was seriously considering turning to the circus for help.

Carlotta followed her gaze. “The boy is Tony. He’s twelve and he likes to play with fire. To his left is Jess.” The young woman was hunched over, her black greasy hair almost concealing her face completely. She clutched her wool sweater closed, quietly weeping. “She never stops. I don’t think her daddy was a nice man.”

An involuntary shiver shot down Kris’ spine. “Across from Jess is Mattie. Steer clear, she is one pissed off chica.” Mattie was glaring at Jess, her face carved into deep grooves of rage.

“Would you just shut up, already? Jesus! How much longer do I have to sit here listening to your pathetic whining? Get over it!” Mattie’s wild, red hair shot out like a halo of flames. Jess seemed to shrink impossibly small, her body wracked with sobs.

There were six other people Carlotta had yet to introduce; wouldn’t one of them say something, anything?

“Stop,” Kris whispered. Mattie’s head whipped around and Kris could feel the full weight of her wrath bearing down.

“What did you say?” The wild look in her eyes made Kris want to run.

Kris calmly gathered herself up, smoothed the front of her suit jacket, and walked to the door. Through the tiny, rectangular window she could see a nurse studying someone’s chart. She lightly rapped on the door, trying to catch the nurse’s attention.

Carlotta sidled up beside her and gently trailed the backs of her fingertips down Kris’ cheek. “Her name is Joanne, but she can’t hear you,” she purred.

Kris could feel the panic tightening in her chest, her breathing turning quick and shallow. She slapped at the door with the flat of her hand. “Excuse me, Nurse Joanne? Can you hear me? I’m ready to go. Can you come open the door?”

Behind her she could hear Mattie raving at someone, Jess’ sobs had turned into a wail of despair, Tony was going from person to person asking for a lighter. So much noise. Everyone was trying to be heard over one another, the sound rising to a fever pitch.

Kris curled her hands into fists and began pounding with all her might. “Nurse!” she screamed, “Nurse, please! I don’t belong in here, I don’t belong with these, these people! Can’t you let me out? I demand to be released from this room!”

Joanne glanced up at the little window. “Ed, I need you to prepare a sedative please,” she called to the nurse’s station. “It seems Ms. Doe is experiencing some anxiety.”

Ed approached with a syringe. “Should we bring her out of the room?”

“No, the doctor needs to conduct a full examination, and until he can determine a prognosis, we have strict orders to keep her in solitary confinement.”
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