Picturesque Earth lay peaceful, to the untrained eye.
One final pod slid up its cable to a ship in orbit.
I peered down from the viewing deck.
A streak of fire. Then an explosion. The cable rocked.
Another streak. Closer.
Pod integrity lost. Passengers compromised.
Ship sirens wailed. Incredible engines rumbled to life. The cable detached and drifted loose.
“Human harvest complete, hey?” a man stepped in close, watching the Earth shrink away.
“Failed, more like it,” I said, distancing myself.
“Ah well,” he winked, “I’m happy with the new Mars crop.”
My stomach turned, where’s the training deck?
After a long break, huge self growth and a literary focus change, I’m back. Trying my hand at proper sci-fi like I’ve never written before.
And I love it.
A few extra themes added in this one, but primarily focused on this week’s 99 word Flash Fiction prompt at the Carrot Ranch, Gathering a Harvest.
September 21: Flash Fiction Challenge
I’m feeling more courageous in my writing and I hope I inspire some other amazing humans out there!
The future had come. Endless chambers of cold lights and pre-fabricated possessions created a norm no one felt part of.
One small council of a great metallic city met.
“Daily accidents again,” reported a hard eyed man, “sicknesses, absences.”
“Lines can’t continue this way,” said a stiff lady, “we’ll hear from higher up soon.”
“No one’ll be excepted,” said a shaken, elderly male.
A young girl took a breath, “what if we asked people? Found out what they need? What’ll help them be happy?”
The council members fell back in their chairs; it can’t be that easy. . .can it?
This week’s challenge over at the Carrot Ranch was inspired by April’s #1000Speak theme of Nurturing. The prompt called for writers to express what nurturing a neighbourly relationship looked like for their characters and places in 99 words.
I’m not comfortably a social person so the idea of a neighbourly relationship doesn’t come naturally. I’m working on it!
For this prompt, my thoughts flitted around the idea of a neighbour providing help for those who struggle to ask.
My initial idea was about a character who heard the happenings of an abusive relationship in a house nearby. That the abuser would finally leave and the character would assist the victim anonymously, providing food or little gifts for the children of the relationship.
Even though someone may feel too proud, or feel like the situation is their fault and that they don’t deserve to ask for help, I wanted to portray that help is a good thing to receive. That a neighbourhood is obliged to provide assistance to others, no matter the situation or who may be at fault.
That as a race, we need to support each other unconditionally, especially if we ever wish to progress.
Once I thought about human progression, I thought about the future, and instead wanted to try my hand at something Sci-fi, since I love the genre. And I came up with the piece above.
It is an issue that we experience even now in most workplaces; those with the control are so focussed on progression that they forget about the heart of the workers. They forget about the workers being equals and as human as they; with fragile hearts and a soul only nourished by positivity and connections.
In this piece, I hoped to portray the ever-existing need of our race. The need of every individual to be appreciated, and that it is the responsibility of all, as a worldwide neighbourhood of humans alike, to respect and fight for everyone. To nurture each other however we can.
Love cures all and creates a fire in the heart that will outlast any adversity. It will make us great.
Day by day, the population thinned. Babies weren’t being conceived as often as they once had. The sun’s radiation increased week by week. Cancer counts increased. Hospitals overflowed. Lives faded.
Those with fair skin donned sunscreen every morning without fail, before continuing life. Most just stayed indoors.
All were failing fertility tests.
A coloured President. A Prime Minister. Council and Board members. School principals. Teachers. Newspeople. Neighbours. Friends. They all grew darker.
White folk just weren’t strong enough; their evolutionary lines unprepared.
The last died and all others pushed onward, brown skin binding a world in peace.