Love in The Time Of Post-Apocalyptic Moulds

“Post Apocalyptic Moulds?, What the fuck is a post apocalyptic mold?” Aaron had to nearly scream to ensure his scavenging partner Dave, who was mostly obscured by the blowing black dust, would be able to hear him “I don’t know man, you tell me. What do I look like a fucking microbiologist?” Dave yelled back then doubled over, racked by a massive coughing fit, mostly the result of inhalation of the poisonous atmosphere, an unfortunate and unavoidable hazard of his chosen profession. Aaron rushed to his friends side, put his arm around him and helped him scoot around a corner to a quieter spot where they could sit, partially shielded from the hounding winds and ever present, deadly particulate filled air. “I have no idea either bro but I found this heart shaped locket partially buried in the muck about 20 clicks east of here. Etched on the surface, it says `From EJ to DJ: Post-Apocalypytic Moulds. All my love. December 2019’” Dave had mostly recovered from his coughing spasm and turned the locket over in his hands inspecting it closely as Aaron continued to describe what he had found. “When I opened it a small piece of neatly folded paper fell out.” He took back the locket than handed the now unfolded paper to Dave. “It’s the damndest thing, the print is so fucking tiny, but clearly hand written, I don’t know how the fuck the dude could write that small, and there are images, digitally rendered, of what the author describes as various incarnations of the post apocalyptic moulds.” Dave quickly scanned the scrap of paper, essentially confirming what Aaron had conveyed, then whistled softly to himself as the age of the object, and the potential implications slowly dawned on him. “2019, damn, that’s almost 50 years ago, and more than 10 years PC (pre-cataclysm).” “Yep. Crazy right? I’ve been slowly deciphering the text and think I mostly have it figured. Thank God we didn’t lose magnifying glass technology in the cataclysm” Aaron said half jokingly. He had more of a sense of humor than his best friend, but that was not saying much, and post cataclysm, humor was a thing in desperately short supply, much like water, food, and just about everything else. Dave glared at Aaron “Not funny bro. If you’re done playing stand up what does it say?”

“If I understand it, and I am not sure I do exactly, this dude, this EJ seemed to be some sort of a writer, or a wanna be writer or some such bullshit thing. He was definitely some sort of scientist, likely a microbiologist, judging by the descriptions of the techniques used to create the photomicrographs which were apparently the inspiration for the post apocalyptic moulds.” “Sounds like a real winner, must have been a huge hit with the ladies.” Dave cracked. After a brief pause during which both men laughed softly Aaron continued. “The document starts with an introduction of sorts which describes the origins of the moulds.

Post-Apocalyptic Moulds®

In an unknown future, on a place far from earth, a terrible cataclysm befell an entire planet. The world was left a barren, radiation scarred wasteland, devoid of life, but for a few hardy mold spores. Somehow, encased in their strong outer spore coat and cortex they managed to survive, barely. For three hundred years these spores laid dormant, blasted by wind and rain, and continually bombarded with intense radiation. Over time this radiation began to transform the moulds. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, they began to change. Pieces of technology the planets’ former inhabitants left behind somehow fused with the moulds as they began to germinate and grow again. Strange new beings came to life. Not moulds, not machines, but parts of each. These are the post apocalyptic moulds®, and these are their adventures…..”

“Jesus” Dave crowed, “What a hack. Sounds like something a fourth grader would dream up at recess with his buddies.” Aaron smiled and laughed, this time with genuine feeling. Damn it felt good to laugh for real. It was all too rare on this God forsaken, non post-apocalyptic mold containing world. Once he had control of himself again he went on. “No shit dude, whoever or whatever this EJ was, he was no fuckin writer, that is one thing we know for absolute certain.” The strangeness of the parallel’s between EJ’s description of the world of the post apocalyptic moulds and their own AC (after cataclysm) world was not lost on either man. The use of the term ‘cataclysm’ and the descriptions of the planet’s environmental conditions were eerily similar to their own present situation. After a few more moments Aaron asked quietly “Weird isn’t it though?” “What’s weird?” said Dave in reply. He had to speak loudly as the wind had picked up considerably and black dust choked both men even in the semi- secluded alcove where they had stopped to rest. The wind made sharp whistling noises as it tore through the exposed concrete slabs of the long uninhabited and mostly buried city where they scavenged. Long dry rotted trees could be heard to crack and fall in the distance. They sounded like thunder as they fell though no lightning nor rain accompanied the noise which accentuated the strangeness of it. “This EJ, way back in 2019 would have had no inkling of what was going to happen less than a decade later. By all accounts the world of 2019 was relatively peaceful and safe. A biological cataclysm of the type we experienced was the furthest things from anyone’s minds. And yet…” Aaron trailed off then dipped his head appearing deep in thought, before continuing. “Well, whatever, I doubt our EJ was any prophet, but he definitely had aspirations and an ego to match, or he was just plain nuts. The writings also include some sort of deranged letter in which he seems to be trying to sell the post apocalyptic moulds to the PC company Disney/Pixar.” Aaron had recognized the name from stories his mom and dad had told him when he was a child about the movies in the PC age. He racked his brain trying to remember a name, any name, of any one of the many they talked about so often. It saddened him greatly to think of his now long dead mom and dad, and even more so when he realized he could not. All traces of his previous laughter erased he continued. “Listen to this.

Dear Disney/Pixar,

The post apocalyptic moulds® are available for a full range of content licensing deals. They appeal to a broad demographic including males and females (mostly males) ages 6-18 and both male and female geeks, nerds, and dorks of all ages. Parents love them too because they are educational. Teach your kids about microbiology while they play with irradiated mutant moulds loaded for bear with stabbing weapons and guns of every type. It sells itself. Best of all the PA moulds are franchise ready. They are perfectly positioned for television, movie, and internet series and movies, make fun and exciting toys for boys, and cute and cuddly stuffed animals for girls. They even come color coated, red for boys and blue for girls. You could not ask for a better fit for people’s preconceived notions of which toys are for boys and which are better suited for girls. Best of all, even if your little boy (accidentally) picks up and starts playing with a blue mould you wont’t have to worry about his friends and dad calling him a fruit because, unlike most toys for girls, even the blue moulds are cool. You are not going to come across an opportunity like this again, I promise. I await your phone call……

Sincerely,

{Illegible}

“This dude was fucking deranged, a damn lunatic or something. Is he serious? Was he serious? I sure as hell hope this was some sort of not funny joke or something. I mean, what the fuck?” “Dude, I don’t disagree.” Aaron replied. “And have a look at some of these images. Talk about bizarre. Whoever the fuck this DJ was she was one lucky lady to have landed this guy. She probably had no idea when she met him that he was actually a 10 year old boy in the guise of a grown man.”

NOTE TO EDITORS/REVIEWERS: Originally 4 images were intended to be included here. Each with a short caption describing the content. Due to the very limited formatting features of Vocal at this time I could only include one of the images as the featured image (above). This needs to be upgraded. On the other hand could just be I am dense and do not know how to insert images within the body of the main text. Also, I need to be able to center or right justify text. The post apocalypic moulds origin story above was originally centered in the text from EJ. Thank you!

As Dave continued to stare at the digital images Aaron took a closer look at the weather worn locket. Opening it again he noticed something he had missed previously, a small notch at the back of the lining on the top side of the locket. He grasped the notch between his two fingers and lifted, removing the partially rotted lining and revealing yet another small piece of folded paper. He motioned for Dave to join him, unfurled the folded note, and they sat shoulder to shoulder reading the small print as best they could.

Dearest Deb,

Hey baby. Hope you are doing well. I sure do miss you. I know you are not a big fan of jewelry but I saw this heart shaped locket and for some reason it struck me as something you might like. In any case the locket is not the point of this letter, nor are the post apocalyptic moulds, though they do of course feature heavily overall. Lol! As my number one (only) fan I figured you deserved to see my latest creations before anyone else. Hope you like them as much as I do. The humor is probably going to be lost on most people, but whatever, I think it’s funny and if it makes you smile than I’ve done my job. (-: The main reason I am writing this is to express my serious concern over some of the comments you have made at home and on the phone with me recently. I know your job at the lab is stressful. Long, lonely stretches in isolation under BSL-4 conditions cannot be easy on anyone, and with the hours you have been putting in, well, it’s a wonder you have not totally lost it. But, given the deadliness of the pathogens with which you are currently working, and the grave consequences to yourself and the entire planet should there be an accidental release I have to be concerned when I hear you talking about “revenge” and “getting back at everyone who has hurt you”. If that is not bad enough the way you talk about people, everyone other than the few you care about, how you call them vermin and scum and not deserving to live. It is horrifying and scary. And then I overhear you on the phone saying “things have been set in motion” and “the future will be much better than the present” all sorts of alarm bells start going off. Please tell me I’m crazy. Please tell me you are not about to do something, something really bad. Please tell me you haven’t already done it……

All my Love,

EJ