Every midday, on the dot, she'd shuffle to the same bench outside the bus station. She'd sit down, pull out a pack of boiled sweets, and slowly work through it while staring at everyone getting off the bus.
I asked around, and everyone said she'd been doing this for years, and she was waiting for her son, who had gone off to fight a war.
So I started making her a coffee every day. She appreciated it, and we chatted, she seemed together enough for someone mad with grief.
At least, until the day her son got off the bus.
Sunday, 23 October 2016
He never trusted a smile he hadn’t trained into existence.
And with good reason, at least from his point of view. The part of his ear missing, the scar across his stomach, the fact his left foot was made of wood, all of them came from girls who pretended to be broken and he’d let off the leash too early.
But that was part of the job, you didn’t train slaves and not expect some of them to fight back. Pain, that was just something you dealt with.
But the pain of having to sell Her he had trouble with.
Saturday, 22 October 2016
The break-up was acrimonious, and somewhat messy in terms of their shared items, but the worst part was that it was pretty much entirely public, with both sides constantly posting on all their social media accounts.
Although I had wanted to see her become single, I hadn’t wanted this, to see her so hurt, so broken. Not that his condition didn’t worry me too, but I was more focused on her, obviously.
So I stayed away, wanting to wait until she had recovered before moving in.
Thus, I wasn’t the rebound boyfriend, and thus, I wasn’t the guy she married.
Friday, 21 October 2016
I waved at the commlink, and her smiling face filled the screen.
“Good morning sleepyhead!”
“It’s the middle of the night!”
She glanced behind her.
“I can see the sun!”
“We’re on a fricking space station, of course…
Look, I’ve got a touch of the Dugali Flu and-“
“A jog around the loading dock will fix that!”
I groaned, longer, then gave up.
“Fine, fine, gimme a few…”
I got dressed, and staggered to the door. As it opened, I remembered the sun was on the other side of the planet right now, which meant that…
Thursday, 20 October 2016
It’s surprisingly cost efficient to buy the Presidency, if you don’t mind being it obvious after the fact.
Forget about bombarding the airwaves with ads, by taking over a political party, or any crap like that. States take the popular vote, then the winning side chooses electors to go to the capital and vote on the next President. There’s no law that says they have to vote for the will of the people. Buy off 270 electors to vote for you and you can be President.
Although, to be fair, it’s even more cost efficient to just buy a President.
Wednesday, 19 October 2016
At times, I wondered if it might have been better if it had all happened at once. Just a quick snap from being fully cogent and aware of my surroundings and then straight to complete darkness and confusion.
But no, I had to experience feeling the fog rolling into my mind, I had to put up with every waking hour finding another memory no longer there, another word gone, another memory gone…
Every step, every breath, the fog in my mind gets thicker and thicker, and soon, soon I may well forget everything.
I could forget…
What was that word?
Tuesday, 18 October 2016
Glory knew as she flew towards the crystal spire glinting in the sunlight that the man she was intent on bringing to justice could manipulate minds. That this mystery man was able to reach into your mind and convince you that black was white, up was down, that good was evil. He’d already used his powers to enslave half the city, but Glory had training from some of the finest minds in the galaxy, and she could resist strong manipulation attempts.
Subtle ones, like convincing her that the villain was the male on the throne, those she still fell for.