Writing about the creative life and the stories all around us
This story was inspired by a prompt from Max Kirin which made me wonder about emotion vs logic.
The android
He loved to hear her sing to her son, lullabies and nursery rhymes from the old days, or even humming out of tune as she prepared a meal. Outside the sun struggled to break through the customary haze that lent the sky a greyish tint, but inside the house it was a comfortable twenty-one degrees Celsius and sixty-five per cent humidity, the way Petra liked it, every day.
I follow Chuck Wendig’s blog and sneak looks at his posts when I should be doing something boringly adult at work. I don’t really have time to do flash fiction. Hell, I barely have time to look at my WIP. But then I saw this.
I asked my 2 children for a number each. They both chose 17. I asked them again.
I got 7 and 17. Body horror and parallel universe. It’s rough but I finished on time. Here goes.
Eye of the Beholder
I relived that terrible meeting all the way home. Kim was perfectly made up, her lipstick red enough to command attention but not so red that it was an outright invitation. When she started to explain the concept that we’d gone over together, the shock of betrayal jolted through me. I blinked, and blinked again, probably looking foolish. I clamped my mouth shut and fixed my gaze on her treacherous mouth as she took the credit for my idea. I’d been taken in by her surface gloss and never saw the knife.