Greg may only have been a supermarket checkout guy, but in his head he was so much more. You see, Greg had been making a plan. Understand, this isn’t the kind of plan that you have for finally getting around to sorting out the garage, this was bigger.
This plan was for the entire world, and the scariest thing? This would work. This was the real deal. If this plan ever got rolling, Greg would be running the whole show in just twelve years.
The only thing holding him back was whether his supervisor would give him a week off.
“I’ve seen some fucking arrogance in my time, but you really take the cake.”
“I think you’ll find it’s ‘biscuit’.”
“Biscuit, dear. The idiom you’re groping for is ‘really take the biscuit’.”
“Is this what we’re doing? We’re really arguing about idiom, now? And don’t call me ‘dear’. You know I hate it. It’s so patronising.”
“That’s a long word for you, isn’t it? My gosh. Have you been reading a dictionary while I’ve been busy keeping you in the manner to which you have become accustomed?”
The flower pot whistled past his head & smashed on the wall.
Sadness weighs her down like a concrete coat. Anyone looking at her can see it, she’s sure, and it seems like everyone is watching. Hunching her shoulders over further, she stares pointedly at her mobile phone screen, stabbing at the keys and wishing they’d all just evaporate.
She finishes the message she’s typing and hits ‘Send’, releasing her words into the world. That’s that, then. Finished. There’s no turning back now.
Everything slows to an unreal pace. A strange voice gives a shout. It sounds like it’s a whole world away, muffled and unintelligible.
She closes her eyes and disappears completely.
Auntie Em helpfully suggested a link to the Befrienders where you can find help & support in your country if the theme of this story affected you. Be safe.
The experts had assured her that anything she thought she experienced while being uploaded couldn’t be real.
She still saw it, and felt the rush. She travelled at the speed of light for a fraction of a second without the hindrance of a physical body.
To her, it could seem like hours. Flying through a narrow tube, stretching to infinity, sometimes full of colour, sometimes purest black.
She left her body behind for now, but always had to return.
She wished there was a way to stay, to only exist as a beam of light and loop for an eternity.
It looked like any other piece of correspondence but he knew this was different. This was the secret letter he’d been waiting for in moody silence for weeks.
The envelope was plain, the contents unremarkable. He knew to get the real message he must soak off the stamp.
He turned on the kettle and, as it came to the boil, dangled the envelope over the spout in the jet of steam. To his huge disappointment, the stamp was bare. There was no code to be revealed.
“Oh well,” he thought, and used the water to make a cup of tea.