In Any Universe

Hello Hello, I realized that I wrote this on Monday and then never scheduled it for release, but here is this week’s response to the six-sentence writing prompt of BRANCH by girlontheedge. I am writing this one for Asexual Awareness week, about a Aiya, who is enduring the most boring/out of touch lecture of her life.

Multi-verse theory stipulates that every time a decision is made, there is a branch made for every possible outcome, and so there are infinite universes, with infinite diversity.

That said, sitting in a classroom, listening to a seventy-year-old white guy lecture her on women’s sexuality, Aiya couldn’t imagine that there was a universe where she didn’t think that this guy was full of shit.

Intellectually she understood that humans, as a species, had evolved in ways that meant that the animal homo sapiens sapiens had certain natural inclinations when it came to sex, but that all ignored the effect of civilization on humans as a whole, and she wasn’t having it.

A few students walked when he droned one about “deviant” sexual behavior, but Aiya always enjoyed a good train wreck, and besides, when she did file her complaint after the end of class, she wanted to make sure she had recorded the entire lecture, lest he later pretend that she missed the critical piece.

It was however illegal to record someone in a conversation you were not a part of, so she spoke up, and asked the question about her own orientation, only to have the man just about self-destruct in his rant on how asexuality does not exist.

It wasn’t even the most offensive response she had gotten to the ace question, doctors, therapists, friends alike, all recoiled when faced with someone that simply did not have interest, and it was then that she was saved from hearing more this day, by a member of the administration showing up to stop the man mid-lecture, but she did wonder, what else he was going to say to cover the second half of what would likely be his final lecture at the university.

Take 3872, No Go

I will be the first one to admit, that I have no idea where this week’s six-sentence story came from.  Based on the prompt of structure, it rapidly took on a life of it’s own.  So go ahead and read the story of our narrator, who also has had something he was working on take on a life of its own. 

He answered a question, just one, and in that time he looked away from what he had been working on, which is of course when it all went to hell.

There had been a zig, where there should have been a zag, and the entire experiment had gone off the rails, as the structure he had been working towards had been abandoned for something entirely less stable.

There was nothing he could do now though, just let this little exothermic reaction continue until it ran out of fuel and he ended up with another puddle of goo.

It was the 3872nd time he had run this experiment, and each time it went catastrophically wrong, but in a different way.

Hopefully his recorder had caught whatever event had precipitated this particular collapse, as he wanted to avoid whatever it was next time around.

He sighed, as he ran the numbers to see how long it would be, and thought, that maybe, just maybe his sister was right after all, humans were not capable of forming a stable civilization.

Perfectly Quiet

Hello Hello, welcome to this weeks response to the six-sentence story prompt of the week FILM. I wanted to write something in the horror genre for Halloween, but while it is horrifying, I didn’t quite hit the mark. Follow our narrator as she returns to a perfectly quiet house, which can be one of the worst things when the house shouldn’t be empty!

She knew something was wrong from the moment she opened the door, to the intense kind of quiet that had never existed in her home, and a layer of dust on the floor.

In the living room a half cup of coffee sat, with a film of separated milk floating on top, and when she hit the kitchen, she knew that the news was going to be terrible.

A glass lay shattered on the floor, the dried juice around it the parody of a puddle, and three servings of macaroni and cheese sat on the table, entirely untouched.

She began running then, calling out for her husband, her children, as she went from room to room, only to find it empty, looking for all the world as if they were simply there one moment and gone the next.

She pulled her phone from the nightstand and watched as it turned on with agonizing slowness, wishing for once that she had the kind of job where she could take it with her, but nothing would change that now.

When the backlog finally loaded, she scrolled through them, horror mounting with each new message, until she reached the one that spoke of a loss that could not be overcome, and she knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

So you could ask me what happened, and I could tell you about 12 different stories, because I didn’t really plan that. This is one of those stories where you get to decide what happened. I have always found that what we can imagine is much worse than what actually occurs.

And The Walls Came Tumbling Down…

The word of the week is club, and this one, while fictional, treads a little closer to reality in points than maybe it should.  I think we have all been here a time or two, and this is the story of our narrator that gets a little overwhelmed by all the things they need to get done…

I started the day, the week, the month even, with a plan, and then life snuck up behind me with a club, bashing me over the head a few times.

I can’t blame reality, as in retrospect, as everyone else knew that I had bitten off more than I could chew, and scheduled more social engagement than any introvert would tolerate.

It took a single addition for what I felt were carefully laid plans, but were more like block activities stacked precariously by a toddler, to come tumbling down around my feet.

With too many options to choose, no way to prioritize, and a panic that it all had to be done now, I did what I do best in these situations, that is to say, nothing at all.

Paralyzed with indecision the tasks piled up, becoming an insurmountable wall of things to do, so high that I could no longer see anything, even that things that bring me joy.

I reacted at first like the toddler who stacked my to do list, crying, and then I threw half my list out, as I accomplished the rest slowly, in mourning for the tasks that wouldn’t be, in large part, due to untreated ADHD.

Hello Hello, it’s ADHD awareness month, which I just realized, because it snuck up on me again, even though I knew it was coming, and is the same month every year…wonder why?