Microstory 2327: Earth, November 25, 2178

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google ImageFX text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 3

Dear Corinthia,

Yeah, I think it would be a great idea to be able to send quick acknowledgements to each other after each message. It does need to be more than just an automated read receipt. My friend is a coder, and he’s written us a quick program for that, if you’re interested. It’s nothing crazy. It just integrates with the messaging application, and lets you pull from a list of canned responses. You can have one that says, got it, I’ll get back to you soon, and another that says, it will be a few days before I can respond. You can even write one that goes, I’m being attacked by a horde of sad zombie aliens from the future of a parallel dimension. I can’t believe this isn’t already a feature, but we have it now. The file is attached for you to download, or tell me no, if that’s the case. In other news, my dad is coming home soon. My next letter to you should be a recap of what we end up discussing. He’s been fumfering when I’ve managed to get him on a call, so I know that he wasn’t innocent. We’ll finally get some answers, Corinthia. I’m sure I’ll have a lot to say in that letter, so I’ll cut this one short here.

Sharpening my zombie alien weapons,

Condor

Microstory 2196: Countless Calls

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2, and by Pixlr AI image editor

I’m pleased to report that everything went great today. As you know, my assistant and the logistician already started a while ago. Three new people had their start date today. I wasn’t able to say this before, but the social worker that I had while I was having my issues is in the process of moving to another state. He was training an apprentice to replace him, but before she could take any cases on her own, the chance to work on my team came up, so she applied to that as well. Since she didn’t yet have a caseload to work with, she was able to start with us right away. As per usual, I won’t be able to tell you her name, or divulge any details about her, but I wanted to say something about it right away. There’s going to be some criticism for this decision. It may seem like she doesn’t have very much experience, but you have to understand that social workers go through some of the most rigorous training curriculum of any job. Only doctors and lawyers have it harder in this respect, and even that’s debatable. She’s been working in the industry for nearly ten years now, and has handled thousands of cases to one degree or another. She’s just never been on her own yet, having gone on countless calls with her mentor who was in a supervisory role, or a partner. Unlike how it is in my world, social workers are often called to the scene of a conflict along with police. They sometimes arrive prior to police, or even instead of. So, they are extremely experienced before they officially graduate from the program. She will be running the Social subdepartment, and we’re very glad to have her on the team. The other two people who began today will work in the Psychology subdepartment. One is a former Jail Counselor, and the other a Job Counselor. Both of them have actually worked together before, helping guests cope with their situations inside, and also preparing them to become contributing members of society once they’re released. The six of us went on a tour of the jail facility together, learning about how the system works currently. We met a few of the intermittent guests. This was an important thing to do, so our new staff members get a feel for the vibe here. We’ll do this sort of thing again as the team begins to fill out in the coming weeks.

Microstory 2194: Up a Reputation

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Google Gemini Advanced text-to-image AI software, powered by Imagen 2, and by Pixlr AI image editor

I’m still not allowed to give you any details, but so far, everyone we have reached out to for a job offer has ultimately accepted. A few of them need the full two weeks to get their affairs in order, a few of them will be able to start as early as next week, and one of them won’t be able to begin until the middle of August, which should be okay. We’re willing to be a little flexible when it comes to this, but they will have to work hard to play catch up once they do finally arrive. I truthfully thought that it would be more difficult than this. I figured at least two of them would miss my call, and never get back to me, or promise to return, but then flake out. It’s not that I’ve experienced that with a lot of other candidates in my day, because I’ve never really done this sort of thing before, but as I always say, there are as many kinds of people in the world as there are people in the world. People have flaked out on me my whole life; not everyone, but enough to assume that a fraction of a given population will include them. I guess it depends on the kind of population you’re dealing with. These are all highly experienced professionals, and in the industries that they’re working in, it’s often not hard to build up a reputation, and dangerous to forget how one mistake can follow you around for the rest of your career, or spell the end of it. Still, I didn’t expect it to be quite this easy. I know I shouldn’t be surprised that it’s going well. And maybe my attitude doesn’t paint me in the brightest of light. I guess my mind is just still trapped in the past, where things didn’t usually turn out the way that I hoped. I suppose it all goes back to the thing I’ve mentioned about trusting others. Using a team of good people, I found more good people, and together, we’re going to do great things for the community. I only have a few more calls to make today, so tomorrow should be all about literally preparing for the first arrivals.

Microstory 2040: Wisconsin

< > Table of Contents

My fathers’ bad luck continued as they were trying to fly from Alaska to New Jersey. They were supposed to make a stop in Chicago, which is where my papa used to live, but that’s not what happened. On their way on the first plane, another passenger got really drunk, and started misbehaving. He was causing problems for everyone, and being really rude, so the pilot had no choice but to land the plane at a different airport to let him off. They even had to have the police waiting for him there. The closest one was this little airport called Southern Wisconsin Regional Airport. It wasn’t really built for planes like that, so it took them a long time to get through all the stuff with the police, and start trying to fly again. By the time they were ready, they couldn’t leave anyway, because of a snowstorm that had formed over Canada. If that guy had just not gotten drunk, they would have arrived in New Jersey on time. Honestly, it’s kind of scary for me to think about, though. They had to spend one night in Wisconsin until the storm passed, and then they were able to fly again. By the time they made it to New Jersey, though, the child they were going to adopt had already gone to another family. They were too late. They would have to wait a few months longer. They had to wait for me. I, for one, am glad that they did.

Microstory 2039: Alaska

< > Table of Contents

Like I said, it took a long time for me to get adopted. While they were working on it, my fathers put off their honeymoon. They got married in 2015, but it was 2017, and they still hadn’t gone on it yet. It was looking like they were going to have to wait even longer for me to be ready to come home with them, so they decided to finally go on the trip. It was almost the wintertime, but they had their hearts set on an Alaska vacation, so that’s where they went. It was really, really, really cold there, but they still had fun. They slept in a cabin, but it was heated, and they packed a lot of clothing. While they were there, they got a call from the adoption agency, telling them that a child was ready, but they had to get to New Jersey right away. They hadn’t gotten much time to relax. They quickly packed up their belongings, and got back to the airport. The problem was that there weren’t any flights until the next day. It was a really stressful time for them. They didn’t get to enjoy very much of Alaska, but they said it was beautiful. My papa used the word gorgeous to describe it.

Microstory 2037: Florida

< > Table of Contents

So like I said, my fathers had two houses here in Plymouth. They had to move to the second one so they could take care of a child, which ended up being me. As they were just finishing up moving all the way into the second one, though, they got a call from papa’s mother. It was about my grandpa, who I never met. And that’s because he died that day. My papa was the first person she called about it, and then she called my Aunt Cooper. And then my Aunt Cooper called my papa so they could talk about it too. They cried about it together, because they loved my grandpa. They tell me that he was a great, hard-working man. I wish I could have known him. I was alive already, but my fathers had not adopted me yet. When he and my grandma were both finally retired, they left Idaho, and moved all the way down to Florida. A lot of people like to retire there, because it’s sunny all the time, and really pretty. They lived in a building called unassisted living, because they had trouble moving around too much, but they still didn’t need a nurse to take care of them all the time. My papa had actually visited a couple times since they moved there. He had even helped them move in, but I decided to talk about Florida on this slide, instead of earlier, because this is when my papa went down to go to his father’s funeral. It was really sad, and I’m kind of glad I at least wasn’t there for that part. Only a few of grandpa’s friends were able to make it, because a lot of them were already dead, and some of them weren’t able to travel. Some of them lived in Florida too, though.

Microstory 1923: Lying Liars Lying

< > Table of Contents

Generated by Canva text-to-image AI software

OSI Director: Agent Parsons, Parole Officer Miazga. It’s nice to meet you both. Please, have a seat anywhere. Special Investigator, would you go get us some water?

Special Investigator: Right away.

Leonard: Thanks for having me. And you can just call me Leonard, or even Leo.

Agent Parsons: It’s an honor, sir.

OSI Director: I’ll start with you, Agent. Tell me about yourself. How did you get into fugitive recovery?

Agent Parsons: Well, sir, I wish I could tell you some interesting story about meeting an agent when I was nine, or that my father’s father’s father’s father worked in Fugitive Services. The truth is that I didn’t know what I wanted to specialize in when I signed up for the academy. So I did a full internship rotation, and ended up liking this the most. I’ve actually not been doing it for very long, though you might have assumed by my age. I spent quite a bit of time gaining experience from all facets of law enforcement.

OSI Director: That’s interesting. And you, Mr. Miazga? How did you become a P.O.?

Leonard: I was kind of a legacy. My parents both worked on the parole board for a nearby prison. That’s what they wanted me to do too, but honestly, I didn’t like the idea of sitting behind a table day in, day out. Maybe a third of people are given a second chance while the other two-thirds go back inside. I wanted one hundred percent of the people I worked with to be free.

OSI Director: That’s a fascinating perspective. I can respect that.

Special Investigator: *clears his throat* Um, pardon. Do you want lemon?

OSI Director: No, thank you.

Special Investigator: Lemon? Lemon?

Agent Parsons: I’m all right.

OSI Director: Tell me, Mr. Miazga, what makes you believe that you can get the creature that we’ve captured to finally speak?

Leonard: It’s alone. In order to advance to the level a species like that, or like ourselves, are, they have to value a sense of cooperation. How long have you had it? Six months? I’ve seen enough prisoners to know that everyone breaks. It takes longer for some than for others, but it will always happen, and in my line of business, that’s a good thing. I know that sounds heartless, but if you’ve done something bad enough to end up in a cell, the only way you’re gonna get out is if you admit the justice that put you in there. You may still be angry, and you may be unwilling to change, but the first step is admitting the logic in the outcome. Like I said, we all have our own breaking points, and if it hasn’t reached its point yet, we have to force it, and that may mean changing strategies. That’s all I am for you; a shift in strategy.

OSI Director: *nodding* I can accept this rationale. That’s all I needed to hear. If you’ll excuse me, I must return to my office to make a call.

Agent Parsons: You lied to her about your background. Did you forget that you already told me the truth about your career history?

Leonard: I was just just following your lead. Did you think that I wouldn’t notice your lie? It was my job to spot liars.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: February 11, 2399

« < » > Table of Contents

Aldona knocks on the door and waits. Winona doesn’t come to answer, but she doesn’t respond right away either. It takes her a good ten seconds to say anything at all, and she’s not happy about it. “Uh, yeah, come in.” She doesn’t sound busy or distracted either, it’s more like it took a really long time for the sound to traverse the distance.

“Hey, have you heard from Leona lately?”

“We’re not really talking at the moment,” Winona replies.

“She’s still mad at you for the satellite thing?”

“I’m not providing her or her team with anything right now, which is why she feels comfortable staying mad at me, but knows that she has to tolerate you.”

“Right. Well, I don’t know what you know...”

“I know that she deployed that satellite anyway, and that you destroyed it.”

“I didn’t send the missile, I tried to stop it.” She sighs, feeling alone. But she was prepared for it to be like this. In fact, she thought the mission would be even harder, and she would have no one on her side at all. She expected a lot of pushback, even after people saw what she could build for them. It was not an easy decision, leaving everything that she had grown to love in the Sixth Key. If this works, the timeline will be totally different when she returns, if she even decides to do so, or has the opportunity. She’s cognizant of a lot regarding the future, but every choice she makes here sets her on a more divergent path from the original. Soon, predicting the outcome of events will be as impossible for her as it is for normal people. What will she do then?

“Look, I imagine that Leona isn’t responding to your calls for the same reason she isn’t reaching out to me, because the cons outweigh the pros. If you’re not helping her find her friends, justified or not, she’s not going to bother talking to you. If you change your value, she will react appropriately, and maybe reconnect. So give her something.”

Aldona shakes her head. “No, it isn’t that. The satellite’s fine. I just got word, she diverted the missile to a Chinese spy satellite that was operating over Russia. My clients don’t really understand, but based on the data that only people like us know how to interpret, she teleported the team’s satellite. I can’t find it, but...I think it’s safe. And she would be aware of that, so why is she incommunicado?”

“You think that something’s wrong,” Winona realizes.

“I think the jet is still in the Philippines, but I think she and Tarboda are not. They checked out of their hotel, and never checked in anywhere else.”

“You know she didn’t go there for vacation, right?”

“Vulcan Point is an important location in the history that is currently the present. I’m not an idiot, I always knew that she was going to try to go there, and I knew that she wouldn’t be successful, which is why I made no attempt to stop her, or even talk her out of it. She’s not on that island, so where did she go?”

“Okay, I have a contact in Manila. I’ll call her, and see what she can find out.” 

“I think it’s for the best,” Aldona emphasizes as Winona is finding the contact.

“Kumusta?” the woman on the other end answers through the speakerphone.

“Kumusta, Divina,” Winona returns. “Listen, Leona’s missing. Last we heard, she was in your country. I was hoping that you could ask a few people a few questions?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 14, 2398

« < » > Table of Contents

The clock strikes midnight by the time Leona makes it to the lab. She takes her phone out, and checks on the location of her friends. They’re either still at the condo, as she asked them to be, or their phones are, but they’re elsewhere. She gets out of the car, and enters the lab. She and Marie checked here after they returned to the Ponce de Leon in case Mateo, Ramses, and Angela were holed up, or left clues. The place was exactly as they left it, and the security measures they put in place proved that no one else had come into the building either. Even so, she needs to check secondary security to ensure that no one opened the vault.

Once she’s sure that everything’s okay, she opens the door herself, which she and Ramses promised not to do unless they both agreed, or if it was an emergency. She can’t achieve the first one, but the second one certainly applies. They don’t have very much of this stuff left, and what she’s about to do hasn’t been tested, let alone perfected, but she’s desperate. She doesn’t know where her people are, or what sort of state they’re in. If communication was compromised, she can’t trust anything Mateo said to her over the phone. She has to assume the worst and act accordingly. She has to go to them, even if it means placing herself in the same predicament. Leona draws the Existence water into the syringe, and injects it into her arm. Reckless, but it works. She can sense Mateo, quite distantly, but they’re out there somewhere, and she should have just enough power to make it there. She grabs the satellite phone, and teleports away.

“Leona?” Mateo asks.

They’re standing in the main cabin of The Olimpia. Nothing looks out of place. “Oh, thank God. Report.”

“No. You report. How did you get here?”

“I know how,” Ramses says, stepping up the stairs. “You injected yourself with samples from the Bermuda Triangle.”

“I had to,” Leona defends. “I had to get back to you.”

“It wasn’t ready,” Ramses counters. “It may never have been.”

“But it was ready, I’m here,” she insists.

“You couldn’t have known that,” Ramses continues. “Besides, we don’t know what kind of side effects there might be. That is not what the immortality waters were designed for.”

“They weren’t designed for anything,” Leona argues. “They’re natural.”

“Are you sure about that?” Ramses asks, kind of rhetorically.

Leona looks over at Mateo, who is looking down at the floor disappointingly. He shakes his head. He can’t believe she did that. It was so stupid and dangerous, and she should know better. He made contact. He used the proper language to let her know that they were fine. She should have trusted that. She should have trusted him.

Leona frowns at them. She hears a noise behind her, just now noticing that Angela has been sitting in the cubby. “I’m sorry, everyone. I didn’t think it through.”

“It’s okay. We’re gonna be okay now,” Angela tells her. “Let’s all go back home.”

“Where are we?” Leona asks, flipping on the nearest viewscreen to see nothing but the cold dark ocean.

“Enemy territory,” Mateo answers. “Russia.”

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 13, 2398

« < » > Table of Contents

Miller Dennard didn’t understand when Leona called the weapon that one of the other helicopters dropped down in the gulf an atom bomb. She didn’t even have any clue what that could mean, or make any connection between the term, and the sunboxes of lore. Apparently, the a in a-bomb stood for addle, for its function of spoiling life within the blast radius. She’s not a scientist, so she couldn’t detail how it worked, but she assured the team that international war laws prevented the military from using such weapons against humans. They’re only ever deployed to disrupt an enemy’s agricultural capacity. Taba, Egypt relies heavily on marine life in the gulf to support their economy, particularly in selling fishing licenses for tourists. This is going to severely damage their budget, but as she put it, they should have thought about that before they collectively decided against helping a small group of lost wanderers. Heath is shocked that she was able to secure approval for such a hostile act. The three time travelers are valuable, and he knows that, but now it seems that others are starting to agree. People are going to great lengths to both protect them, and get them on a certain side.

The transport helicopter and its escorts landed in Frankfurt, then got them into first class on a direct flight back to Kansas City. A driver came for the fake Amir, and then another came to deliver the rest to the condo, which is when they discovered that the other three members of their group were not there. Angela left a coded note, explaining that they were going off on a rescue mission. That was days ago, though, and they should have beat them back here with The Olimpia. Something else happened, and they needed to know what. They weren’t able to get ahold of them by phone, so they confronted Winona Honeycutt for answers. She claimed that they were aware of the rescue attempt by the Dead Sea, but lost track of the other half of the team after that. No one appeared to have detected them teleporting away, but that’s what the Honeycutts figured went down. She said that she had been searching for them ever since, and have come up with no leads. It’s hard to tell when she’s lying, but it could be true.

Finally, after days of stressing out about it, Leona received a call from an unfamiliar number late at night. Mateo wasn’t able to talk for very long; not long enough for Leona to arouse the others to listen in on the whole conversation, but he was able to report that the three of them were okay, and were making their way home. Communication was difficult, though, so she shouldn’t expect to hear from them frequently. No word on where they were, or what they were doing, but it was a relief just to make contact. Their communications may be compromised in more ways than one, so they’ll wait to debrief each other in person. They sure have a lot to divulge themselves.

“What else did he say?” Kivi asks, having only heard the tail end of the conversation.

Leona frowns, and stares into empty space. “They won’t be back for days, if that.”

“I’m sorry.” Marie and Heath only heard Mateo say goodbye, and then hang up.

Leona straightens herself out. “You’re in charge while I’m gone.”

“Where are you going?” Heath asks her.

“I’m going to wherever they are.” Amidst confused protests, Leona goes back to her room to get dressed, and gather a few essentials. She orders the others to remain here, and not follow her. Then she drives down to their lab.

Microstory 1881: Eyes Out on Stalks

< > Table of Contents

Before all this social media, if you wanted to get to know a celebrity, your only hope was to catch them in an interview on TV, or maybe see them at an awards show. You could read an interview, yes, or some other kind of article, but they always put their best foot forward, so unless it was a takedown piece, the writer would show them in the best light. That was okay, in general, but it did once place me in danger. When I had a crush on a particular leading man from decades long past—and I certainly wasn’t the only one—it was based on very little information. He was so great in his movies. He didn’t appear in many projects, mind you; he was a choosy talent, but they were all amazing, and he was amazing in all of them. I was young and naive, and I thought I was in love. Of course, I never thought I would get the opportunity to meet the man, and looking back, if only one minor thing had changed about that fateful day, I never would have. I can’t even say his name, it hurts so much to think back on it. I guess you could call it my unfinished business, even though there is nothing I can do about it now, so here it is. My local radio station was offering a promotion. Be caller number 96, and win a date with the hunk himself. They couldn’t call it a date on the official rules as it suggested some sort of romantic slant, but the crude radio personalities sure had their fun with their guesses as to what would go down. I called in, and actually won, and I was so incredibly excited. This was it, I was finally going to meet the man of my dreams. Now, don’t get me wrong, I was under no illusions about the upcoming night. I did not think he would fall in love with me, and ask me to marry him right then and there. But I didn’t care, because I felt honored enough just to be in his presence. I was so wrong.

He didn’t get down on one knee and propose to me on the night of, but he did seem to like me a lot. My mother warned me that he would probably expect sex. That was all right, I was ready, so I sat through the talk so she could make sure I understood that I could always change my mind. I did change my mind and it wasn’t really due to anything specific about him. He had a bit of a weird smell that I imagine he would call his musk, but I could have looked past that. It was just that we didn’t have any chemistry, and I guess he always wore makeup on screen, so I wasn’t all that attracted to him, so after the meet and greet, I just wanted to leave. It was a nice time, and I don’t think I would have regretted it if it had all ended, but he was not interested in ending things. He appeared totally fine that I wasn’t into have sex, but it was all an act. He was determined to get me in bed, whether I wanted it or not. He didn’t just break into my house, and attack me, though. No, that would have been too obvious. It would have been scary too, but at least I could have called the authorities if he had done that. Instead, he was what everyone around me thought was oh so romantic. They never let me call it what it was, which was stalking. He would send me flowers, and show up at my work. I found him in my kitchen once, waiting for my mother to make him some breakfast, like he was her son-in-law. It was so creepy, and I kept having to reject his advances, but he wouldn’t have it. I think he only stopped coming by because he found some new girl to fixate on. I never summed any of this up before, because as bad as it was, his actions were not reportable. I just wish people had listened to me back then, because a couple of years ago, we learned that some other girls ended up being not so lucky.

Microstory 1789: Kendall Cole

< > Table of Contents

Kendall Cole is one sick puppy; not evil, per se, but certainly not a good person. She loves to start trouble, and she is a master at it. She knows how to manipulate others into doing what she wants, and not even for her own gain. Well, she appears to gain the joy of watching people squirm, but she isn’t otherwise benefiting from all this conflict. At least, it doesn’t seem like it gets her anything else. She just likes to watch people in pain, and her parents were always worried that this would translate into something really bad and violent when she grew up. Therapy didn’t help. Socialization didn’t help. Nothing did her any good. If there was an opportunity to make people feel bad, and get away with it, she would do it. As she grew up, however, she got better at causing trouble in secret, leading her parents to believe that she had learned to change her ways. She stopped getting in trouble at school, because of how good she was at convincing others to become the agents of chaos, so she never really learned what consequences were. No one gave her any real reason to improve herself, so she never did, and she never regretted it either. Kendall didn’t become a serial killer, or anything, though. That much could be said of her. She just liked to undermine people at work, especially her boss, and make the job unnecessarily harder on others. A missing file here, an anonymously forwarded private email there. She didn’t limit herself to her real workplace. She once took a second job at a family planning manufacturer. She deliberately tampered with thousands of pregnancy tests to make them all show up as positive, no matter what. She timed it according to a co-worker’s tenure at the company, and framed him for the crime. No one ever suspected her, and bonus, she made a little extra money.

She might have said that sabotage was her middle name, except then that would be admitting to others what she was, and that would have ruined all the fun. Her power came from her invisibility, and no one could ever know that she was behind all of this turmoil. Someone took notice once when she gaslit an entire apartment complex into believing that a virus was spreading through the gas lines. She tricked them all into shutting off their gas, and quarantining themselves in the building for an entire week before the children of one of the tenants grew suspicious, and reached out to the CDC. She didn’t set one foot on the premises, and no one could have possibly connected her to it. A self-proclaimed “mastermind with genius-level intellect” felt compelled to investigate on his own by looking into who had contacted the building manager. He traced the call to a payphone, then phished his way into reviewing the security cameras of the convenience store next to it, where he witnessed who he thought to be the culprit making that call. Using facial recognition software that he bought for a steep price on the internet, he figured out the woman’s identity. He began to stalk her to find out what her motivation was, and whether she did other things like it. He never saw a damn thing, and he became impatient with the whole matter. He decided to give her a taste of her own medicine by killing her on paper. He notified her place of business that she was dead. He cancelled all of her credit cards. He informed her parents that she was gone. He identified a Jane Doe as her in the morgue. The authorities found him rather quickly, and arrested him for fraud, harassment, and a number of other charges. He only received one visitor in prison. It was Kendall Cole, there to gloat about how she had tricked him into ruining a completely innocent person’s life, as well as his own.

Microstory 1566: Fresh Start

< > Table of Contents

Prompt

My wife left me the day we got back from our honeymoon, but she didn’t steal my money. What was her reason?

Botner

And what would I do with $6.1 million? This is a really cool question that I never really thought about in all of my years as a family man. We’ve been together for 13 years, and you’ve been there for 10 of those years. So why did your wife, Valerie, divorce you? I have no idea. I assume that she did it because I put my foot in my mouth one day and said something that she took the wrong way, and now she’s moving on and making out with some loser she met on her motorcycle. For the most part, though, I would not change anything about my marriage. So if I suddenly came into $6 million, what would I do? I think it would be nice to take a year to see the world. I’d head out to the moon, or maybe off to Mars, or maybe just jump in a private jet and take a couple of sweet helicopter rides. Then I’d come back, and I’d spend some time at my house in Los Angeles, where I’d have a spectacular view of the ocean and a really nice movie theater. I’d sit in the theater and watch “Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?” and “A Chorus Line” and “Fargo”. I’d probably also watch some soap operas like “Days of Our Lives” and “General Hospital,” because Valerie can’t stand soap operas. I think I would...

Conclusion

...do whatever the heck I wanted, and wonder why I ever got married in the first place. Oh, and hiking. I would travel the world, and hike all over the place, because I would have no responsibilities. Of course, Valerie would come back to me if I ever won the lottery, but I’m better than that. You don’t like me when I’m poor, you won’t like me when I’m rich; you may just like my money. I think it’s okay to dream, but I have to come back to reality, and focus on my future. I had it all planned out with her, and now that she’s gone, I have to come up with a new plan. It’s actually kind of exciting, being able to start over. When we did it together before, we were young and dumb. I’m wiser now, so the plan will be much better. Perhaps her leaving was the best thing that ever happened to me. I feel like it’s a fresh start, a new chance. I don’t feel like I wasted my time either, which is how a lot of people in my position would feel. It would devastate them. But I’m fine. Really, I’m fine. I just need to text her right quick to find out where she hid my jerseys. She hated me in them, and said they made me look fat, but now I can wear whatever I want. We need to talk about which restaurants each of us can go to, so we don’t run into each other. You know what, maybe I’ll just call.

Microstory 1362: In Need of an App

< > Table of Contents

Viscom Student: Thank you all so much for coming to this survey. I’ve been racking my brain, and I can’t come up with any good ideas. I need you guys. Now, I can’t pay you, but I might be able to get you extra credit if you’re taking psychology, or business administration, or something. I make no promises, though.

Fellow Student 1: How long do you think this will take?

Viscom Student: We’ll be done as soon as one of us comes up with a good suggestion, or after twenty minutes; whichever comes first. I ain’t lookin’ to keep you all night. This is my assignment for my Visual Communications Design class, and I know it’s not your responsibility.

Fellow Student 2: If it’s only twenty minutes, we don’t need compensation, or anything.

Fellow Student 1: Yeah.

Fellow Student 2: What exactly is the assignment?

Viscom Student: I’m meant to come up with a new app. I don’t have to actually create the app, but I have to have an idea how it works, draw out the design, and prepare a little marketing presentation. There are a few stipulations, though. Even though I don’t have to program something real, it has to be technologically feasible. I can’t think of an app that reads your mind, or mows the lawn. Two, it has to be at least mostly original. I can, for instance, come up with a new photo-sharing app, but there has to be some way to differentiate it from all the others. What makes this one special, and why would someone download it, instead of a competitor’s? So, what kind of app do you think is missing from your life?

Fellow Student 3: I think I have an idea.

Viscom Student: Shoot.

Fellow Student 3: You know how everyone’s working from home these days, right? Because of the virus.

Viscom Student: Yeah, I like we’re you’re headed.

Fellow Student 3: But people hate that, because they can’t just walk up to each other’s offices, and have an impromptu conversation. They have to send an instant message, or set up a video conference. What if people had full-length mirror-sized video screens in their home offices? Instead of calling, you walk up to your own screen, knock on someone else’s “door” and then just talk. You could leave the door open all you want, too, and let people come and go as they please. You could even expand it, and have giant screens all over the walls, to simulate an open floor plan. Then people can just walk up to each other whenever they want.

Viscom Student: That’s a cool idea, Fellow Student 3, but it’s not an app. It’s a tech product that would require hardware.

Fellow Student 3: Umm, you could invent the app that manages everyone that’s part of the same network.

Viscom Student: Yeah, that app would probably exist, but I need something that anyone interested can download and use without buying all these other things, ya know?

Fellow Student 4: Piggybacking off of Fellow Student 3’s idea, though, what if you made an app that was a virtual working environment. Customers would be able to design their own working spaces, assign workers to specific zones, and let them control an avatar. The avatar wouldn’t just be some cartoon version of someone, but an accurate representation of the individual. When the avatar goes to meetings, it can raise your hand, and maybe even get up to grab a drink of water; just to make it feel a little more natural. My dad is always complaining about how awkward his web conference meetings are.

Viscom Student: That’s a very interesting idea.

Fellow Student 2: Does it work, though? Is that technologically feasible?

Viscom Student: I’m not sure. I mean there are virtual worlds out there, right? There just aren’t any dedicated towards this niche.

Fellow Student 3: It’s not a phone app either, though. I mean, I guess it technically could be, but it would be better on a laptop or desktop.

Viscom Student: That’s true. I might be able to get away with it, though, if we market it the right way. I think you’re onto something here, Fellow Student 4. Let’s run with this, and see if it can work. What other features would you all like to see in something like this?

Microstory 258: Perspective Thirty-Three

Click here for a list of every perspective.

Perspective Thirty-Two

My job is extremely stressful. I don’t get a whole lot of feedback from callers, so I never really know if things went all right. I work for a domestic violence hotline. People from all over the country call us for help with abuse. Sometimes the caller is being abused, sometimes it’s a friend or family member, and we even get calls from abusers who realize what they’re doing is wrong. Obviously being an advocate comes with its limits. Since we’re communicating anonymously over the phone, I can’t go and actually help the people who call in. After they hang up, I can’t be sure if they took my advice, or if they’re safe. I feel so frustratingly powerless to help. I’ve started writing this comic book series about a superhero who never saves people from burning buildings, or fights villains. Instead, she flies around removing people from unsafe domestic environments, and mediating disputes between family members. I’ve still not settled on a name for her, but I’m leaning towards Doctor Safespace. That seems a little cheesy to me, and feels like an advertisement for our services rather than something victims and survivors can look up to. Whatever her name is, she’s not bound by arbitrary laws and regulations. She can go in and stop the violence at its source. Just this last week, I took a call from a child who happens to live in my home town. He was hiding in the closet while his father was drunk again and hitting his mother. It was heartbreaking to hear him tell me what was happening as it was happening. I could hear the screams in the background. It took me awhile to convince him that he needed to hang up and dial 9-1-1. A part of him knew that the situation was serious, and needed to be dealt with, but as a child, he couldn’t help but spend the time telling me about his alter ego, Prince Malvolio. He had clearly created this character in order to escape from his world of abuse, but that was no longer helping as the two worlds were colliding with each other. Finally he agreed to hang up and call the authorities instead. I hope he’s okay. If this weren’t anonymous, I would have Doctor Safespace team up with Prince Malvolio.

Perspective Thirty-Four

Microstory 257: Perspective Thirty-Two

Click here for a list of every perspective.

Perspective Thirty-One

My sister is being abused by her husband, and I’m having trouble getting her to see the truth. To be honest, I’m not all that worried about her. The fact is that she is an adult, and I don’t feel like anyone can help her unless she admits that she needs help in the first place. They have a son, though. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to confirm that the guy’s physically abusing him as well. My girlfriend suggests I call a helpline about it, but I’m not good over the phone. What I really need to do is speak to someone in person. The problem is that the nearest domestic violence shelter is two towns over, and I have just not had any time. That’s a bad excuse, though, and I know it. I’ve always done that. I am an expert at putting up roadblocks when people try to give me solutions. My girlfriend calls it my most frustrating feature, but she’s helping me work through it. But for now, my priority is protecting that kid. Everything I’ve read on the internet says that when children are involved, immediate action must be taken. So maybe I should ignore the women’s shelter for now, and go straight to child services. What I’m worried about, however, is whether they’ll find any proof that he’s hurting his son. If they don’t, then this will just antagonize and aggravate him further. What is he going to do then? He’ll probably assume that his wife is the one who called the authorities on him, and even if he doesn’t, he’ll take it out on her...and their son. Oh my God, there is no good way to handle something like this, especially not since I can’t get my sister to truly open up about what she’s going through. Should I get someone into the house as fast as possible, or should I try to get the victims out first? Those are just my roadblocks again, though, aren’t they? This is stupid. I’m being stupid. My first order of business is to get help from someone who knows what they’re talking about, and not online. However legit or professional a website is, it’s still only going to be able to give me general information. Somebody needs to hear what’s going on in this particular situation. Somebody needs to hear my sister’s story. And I’m the only one who can tell it.

Perspective Thirty-Three

Microstory 31: Burning

My phone rings in the middle of the night. Face firmly planted in the pillow, I flail my arm about, succeeding only in knocking my nightstand over. By the time I tumble out of bed and pull the phone from the rubble, I’ve missed the call. It’s dripping with orange soda, and damaged from the fall, with a cracked screen blinking in and out. I manage to select the voicemail, but it’s garbled and hard to hear. All I catch is something about a payphone on fifth, the word burning, and the word alone. At the end of the message, the phone basically explodes and sends a shock through my whole body. It dies, so I am unable to return the call, or contact emergency services, for that matter. My friend, Dave lives in the area mentioned, so I throw on my clothes and race out the door, worried that his house is on fire. I battle with the slippery streets, hydroplaning a couple of times. When I finally make it to the payphone that the voice talked about, I see no one around. I certainly see no evidence of a fire. But the phone rings.  I pick up the receiver and try to answer it, but hear it continue to ring, as if I was the one who had made the call. The thunder and rain is so loud that I can’t hear the voice on the other end. I yell into the mouthpiece, “I’m at a payphone on fifth street! I got a call from here, but I don’t know why! I thought there might be a burning building, but I see nothing and I’m alone!” No one responds, at least not that I can tell. There is a bright flash from above, and I feel another painful shock throughout my body. I am all of the sudden back in my room, holding my cell phone. It explodes and I am all of the sudden back at the payphone. I'm blinded by a bright light, and feel a sharp pain. I am all of the sudden back in my room, holding my cell phone. And it explodes...