Microstory 19: Love Letter

My dearest love, I write to you through tears of heartbreak. It has been still less than a week since I have seen you, but I feel every torturous second. There is a hollowness inside; a hunger to have you returned to me. Sometimes I pass by your place. I yearn to go inside, to feel you with my tongue. But I know that I can’t. I know that you need more time. No, that isn’t true. It isn’t you. It’s me. I’m the one who needs time. I see now that I need to give you space. A collision of our two forces is powerful enough to destroy the universe ten times over. We cannot be together too long. It would be, as they say, incredibly unhealthy. But perhaps they are wrong, do you think? I cannot concentrate without you. You are perfect. You are my everything. Let me take you away from your life. You belong out of that kitchen, away from them. I can give you a good home. I will never leave you. I cannot wait to see you tomorrow, my love, Chipotle burrito.

Stay tuned for a bonus microstory to be posted later today.

New Schedule — What's Coming

I'm trying to get my schedule lined up. For my own sanity, I need to keep the stories I post/have posted under some kind of frame of reference. I want there to be five microstories for every two flash fiction stories (because there are seven days per week). I will have two separate flash fiction stories running at any one time, and I want to keep those even with each other. But, I've already started one series, so I kind of have to let the other one catch up before I get back into it. I know, that sounds absurd. But it makes sense in my head. Scheduling is very important to a person like me.

I've worked it all out. Tomorrow (Saturday) you are going to get two fresh new microstories. On Sunday, you will see the first installment of The Advancement of Mateo Matic. I've integrated the story with something else I've written, which means it has to be on Sundays, instead of my original intention of Saturdays. Actually, the real situation is that it has to start on March 22, rather than 21.

My other flash fiction series, Siftens Landing—which will have a final part in the immediate future—will restart on April 11. This means that we are missing stories for the two Saturdays before that. On those days, I will be releasing complete short stories. They are about nine or ten pages long, if I remember correctly. I believe. If that's overwhelming, I'll scratch that whole thing and do something else. Point is, from now on, you will get something every day.

To tide you over, here is a picture of a pole with a bunch of nails in it. And my shadow.

Microstory 18: The Half Wish

A wizard appeared and granted me two and a half wishes. When I asked him what a half wish was, he told me that the wish would come true but only sort of. He evidently had no control over the ramifications of the wishes. He was only a conduit to some other awesome power. That power was the one deciding how to interpret the wishes, and for this reason, half wishes were even more unpredictable than full ones. I first asked for a thousand more wishes, as you do. That was against the rules, so I just completely lost that one. One and a half left. I asked him, very carefully, whether it would be okay if I asked for something in multiple parts. He saw no reason why not. “I wish to be the good and loved king of the entire world. This world will have no war, and no poverty. There will be an endless supply of resources.”

“Is that all?” the wizard asked. It was. He waved his arms and the environment changed. I was on top of a hill. Below me was a forest, a lake, and a river. Beyond that was nothing; a void. There were only a few square kilometers of anything. “Oh,” the wizard said solemnly. “You forgot to ask to be the king of Earth specifically, or that it would at least be a full-sized planet, and have other people.”

I thought about it for a very long time, worried what might happen with my half wish. Maybe I wasn't smart enough to come up with something clever and impeccable. Finally, I decided to ask for the same thing again, but this time be more clear. “I wish to be the good and loved king of the entirety of Earth. Earth will have no war, and no poverty. There will be an endless supply of resources for Earth.” The environment changed once more. I was back on Earth, in the city. I looked up to the night sky where I could see the other half of the Earth, floating in its own orbit.

Microstory 17: Slug

As I let the salt fall, it writhed and curled. Back and forth. Up and down. Sweeping through the granules that landed dry on the deck. In its final moments of torturous pain, it couldn't tell the difference between where there was salt and where there wasn't. It knew only that something was scratching and tearing at its skin. An unstoppable fire sucking the moisture from its body. I felt an unavoidable urge to explain myself. "I'm not a sadist." I stood up straight, looking for any more, camouflaged on top of the brown planks. "I just can't have you near my dog's food." But as I said the words, I wondered, were they true? My dog ambled onto the deck and sniffed at the slugs, placing her nose firmly against their lifeless bodies. She opened her mouth, contemplating whether she wanted to try one for breakfast. She snapped at it a couple times. "No!" I said. She looked up at me as if to say, who do you think you are? Then she snapped at one again. "NO!" I said with more fervor. She looked up again, what is this? I don’t even... "Don’t eat that," I said. "It might have ingested pesticides, or something." If she had shoulders, she would have shrugged them. Whatever. She walked over to the corner of the deck and dramatically plopped down on her side. Wake me up when there’s legal food.

Microstory 16: Murder is Murder

I am a murderer. I have intentionally killed dozens; possibly hundreds. The definition of murder is unlawful and willful killing of someone with a soul. This is why you can’t murder an animal. We might call that animal cruelty, but we kill game and livestock all the time, and only some people are bothered by it. What people don’t know, however, is that a few animals do indeed have souls. They aren’t complex souls like those of humans, but they still have them. Dolphins, elephants, and mice are a few examples of animals with simplex souls. A soul can be shared between a human and an animal, which means that all your pets have souls too. There is one creature that most would not expect to have souls. Spiders. The problem is that they have twisted, evil souls. They are utterly bent on the destruction of all life in the universe. Just because they aren’t logically capable of such a thing, doesn’t make their motivations any less real. I consider it my duty as an ensouled individual to kill as many spiders as I possibly can. Many scorpions believe this to be their duty as well, and they regularly sting and eat spiders that they encounter. You still probably wouldn’t call this murder, and that’s great for me. As long as you keep thinking that there is nothing wrong with it, I get to keep going with my mission. I will never stop, until I myself am dead, and then one day after that.

Microstory 15: The IQ Trick

I always tell people that I have an IQ of 185. Then I laugh and admit that it’s only 130. You see, intellectually, they know that I have normal intelligence. They will never expect me to do anything particularly outstanding. But subconsciously, they will always be looking to attribute everything I do to my genius. So when I do something that they would consider wrong, they won't look down on me too much because, in the back of their minds, they’ll wonder whether I had it right the whole time, and if they aren't simply incapable of fathoming the logic. The trick is to use this on any given person only a single time. Don’t ever mention it again. The more they think about it, the closer their subconscious impressions get to the truth. And it is absolutely imperative that you never reveal your deception to anyone. Which, I know, sounds ironic, because I've just revealed it to you. But here’s the thing, a truly gifted individual can maneuver their way out of the inconsistency. And I’m gifted. Obviously I am, since I came up with this on my own, at a very young age. And that is the true irony. Because the fact is that I've been joking with you the whole time. I actually do have an IQ of 185. Just kidding. It’s only 180.

Microstory 14: Inhibition

They’re always green with a white stripe. Today, they are white with a green stripe. I reach into my memory and try to recall, just to make sure that I’m not mistaken. But I cannot confirm it. Did scientists change the design of the pills? Was I remembering it wrong? Was I about to take the wrong medication? I shrug my shoulders and take two. I guess I have to trust the professionals. I feel nothing, not that I should so quickly anyway. The pills never fix my anxiety. They’re supposed to slightly lower my inhibitions; just enough to give me confidence to get through the day. Without them, I would not be able to do my job. My clients expect quite a bit out of me, and I have always delivered. I’ve really only had trouble concentrating for the last few months. My memory hasn’t been great either. I think one of my assignments slipped through my fingers the other day, but I can’t remember. I breathe deeply and place my hands on the corners of the vanity as memories once lost slowly return. That’s why I recieved company this morning, waiting for me in the living room. The longer I stand here, the more I feel different. They were definitely the wrong pills. I feel the same as I do with the regular ones, but far more intensely. Second by second, the inescapable urge to tell the truth swells over me. I try to suppress it. I can’t lose my job. But it overcomes me. Consequences begin to seem like nothing. Yes. Wrong pills. In fact, I think the pharmacist did it on purpose. What did she know about him? In a bit of a daze, I walk out of the bathroom and approach the visitors. One of the police officers is holding up a photograph. “Yes, I know him. I tried to kill him, but he got away. I’m still under contract, so I need to find him. Why do you ask?”

The Shape of Things to Come

I know that you are just absolutely dying to read my first flash fiction piece. Well, you're going to have to wait until next Saturday. Why? Because I want to start this new process at the beginning of the week; not somewhere in the middle, or the end. This coming Monday, one new microstory. The last one I wrote was...on November 18? Wow, it's been that long? What a hack. Anyway, I have no idea what it's going to be about, but that's the exciting part. I could lie to you and tell you that I will write only one a day, on the day of publishing, but I won't. I may start a bank, like I sometimes do with my nanofiction. I can't risk not having anything to produce. I'm actually probably going to write one today, as well as start on the first installment of "The Advancement of Mateo Matic".

I've really been thinking hard about whether I want to do something on Sundays. I've already made a list of potential YouTube videos. They would be pretty short, and would just involve me talking to the camera. I don't know how easy/hard it is to superimpose text, insert pictures, and use other editing techniques. Each one would be on a different topic that gives me the chance to explain some interesting, ridiculous, or misunderstood linguistic concepts. There would also be a few in there that are really just about logical fallacies that people make. Topics include contranyms, chicken or the egg, and unusual idiom origins.

Here's my problem with a YouTube series, I am not an actor. I don't have charisma, I have trouble getting my lines out, I'm not that attractive, and worst of all, I have a terrible voice. It's nasally and annoying and hard to understand. I would probably call it my worst quality, and I have autism! But if I want to be famous, which I do, then perhaps I ought to do it anyway. I'm supposed to be stepping out of my comfort zone, as is everyone. I still don't know...

In the meantime, here is a picture of my late digger baby, Sophie. Because reasons.