To Sir… With Love.

Copyright -Claire Fuller

You have nothing?

Yes sir.

Excuse…?

Err, I meant “no sir…” no, sir.

No occupational status?

No sir.

Valid credit implants?

No… sir.

Spousally designated partner?

No.

Biological offspring?

Nonemore.

Adopted…

NO. No sir.

What is your current worth to society, citizen?

Zero, sir.

And to your non-existent family?

Zero.

And yourself?

Well, a great deal, actually sir! You see I…

Excuse…?

Err, I meant “zero sir…” Zero.

You’ll be liquefied at the food distribution workshop, nourishing the citizenry while realizing at least a small profit against your zero value. Is this understood?

No sir.

Excuse…???

Yes sir. I meant… yes, sir.

•••

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Written in response to both this week’s Friday Fictioneers and (my first time EVER!) Velvet Verbosity prompts. Please also take the time to check out my “second to last” honest-to-Goshicles blog post (shared with my dear friend, Elena Caravela), located here.

My last (honest-to-Goshicles as well, of course!) post is coming soon.

A Cottage for Sale

Copyright – Björn Rudberg

You’re moving, then?

Yes.

To that house?

Yes.

That house, directly to the right of us?

Yes.

But, you’ve hardly moved, at that point.

Yes.

But the new house is prettier.

And?

And?

Well, “newer” of course.

And that’s enough?

Yes.

That’s enough.

But you loved the old house. It was good to us.

“Good” isn’t new. New’s what counts.

That’s a shame, really.

Believe me or don’t, I couldn’t care less.

You’re implying that old is bad then?

Yes.

No.

It’s just not… well it’s not new, And new’s what counts.

But… I’ll miss you.

OK.

Still, you’re moving, then?

Yes.

•••

•

Rochelle, I would like to thank you so much for talking me “off the ledge” as to my abandoning Friday Fictioneers, as I do so love it and the writing community that surrounds it. And an extra special thank you to a Fictioneer I’ve been long jealous of, Björn, for providing a phenomenal prompt with which to return!

Asleep.

To say I’m becoming obsessed with the Flash In The Pan word prompts is just a touch of an understatement. In addition to the word limit placed upon us by Red, I am also enjoying – well, “enjoying” is most likely not the right word to be used here – the mandate I placed upon myself with these prompts; that being to address topics that I would normally not feel comfortable in doing so with. Crawling much deeper down the well than intended with the prompt of “Come,” as always, I welcome your feedback and constructive criticism…

Anyway, it’ll be good seeing dad again.

At least I hope too.

Pretty painless, these pills. Still… Didn’t realize they’d make my hand melt like that.

They just sorta walked off, ya know? All of ‘em. Abandoned me. Didn’t need me anymore.

I don’t need me anymore.

I don’t need…

So tired. Tired of being alone, a postscript,

a lie.

Time to go home.

Nice to go home… Or’s it “come home?”

What’s home?

Crap… Slidin’ outta view, everything. Blurring. Coming soon, “The End.” Hehe…

Christ.

Why did I?

Oh damn. Now my whole arm’s melting…

You there dad?

Daddy?

•••

“Flash in the Pan”

To those of you who read Friday’s post, this is an unintentional “book end” to the daddy motif I started there. As ma is still alive, I was concerned that by using a parent of the “fairer” sex as my character’s sought out post-life guide, I might miss out on some of the emotion I was hoping to evoke with this piece. Then again, should I have failed at even that, I suppose I could always just wrap this whole thing up with a depressing Smiths song as well…