The Spectre etc.

Author's Note: These 3 short stories don't have a nice tidy endings but are open-ended. If that's not your thing, feel free to read something else! ~ C

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The Spectre

He was born on the stroke of midnight on December 12th. All his life people had called him blessed. It must mean something, people said. They thought it made him special. He knew it meant he was cursed. But he tried his best to ignore the dark cloud that followed him everywhere. He dated. Broke up. Got married. Had a child. Got divorced. Traveled to many countries by boat, plane, train. He lived, shadowed by his curse. On 12/12/12 the shadow materialized. “Do you have regrets?” it said softly.

“Only one," he said somberly with a note of irritation. "That you were there every step of the way.”

Crossed Wires

Rick? It’s Chris. Hammond. I’m hoping this is you. I’m never sure when I use these things. I can never remember what your identification number is, whether it ends in 34 or 43. I wish these voice recorders had the built-in holograms so I’d know who it was I was leaving a message for. So this better be you, because…dammit, hold on, I’m getting an urgent communication from the World Oceans Board.

Sorry about that. That took longer than I hoped. Hopefully this is still recording. I take it you’ll have heard about the massive tidal surge that just happened on the west coast here. But I know it’s affected everywhere. I mean, the entire planet. I always said this is what happens when you fuck up our planet. I know they’ve been trying to fix it, to prevent this from happening from at least 2020, but that was what, like twenty-five years ago, at least? I thought maybe with you working for the World Government, you’d be able to …I don’t know, give me some advice on what to do. I’m packing my bags as I speak anyway. Water has pretty much half-flooded Vancouver now, so I’m out of here, heading inland. Don’t know where I should go, really. Why I’m calling is, well, um, what I’m asking is, can I come stay with you for a bit? At least until I can figure out where to go? I know probably most of us on the west coast are doing the same thing right now. Getting away from here. The coast that is. I heard that all of downtown Seattle is under an insane amount of water. Ha. At least I can swim. That’s something positive, right? Anyways, as soon as you get this, send me a message back. Don’t know where I’ll be but I’ll have my earpiece on so I’ll get your message instantly. Okay. That’s all. Bye.

The Valley of Death

I always thought those people who stood on street corners and smelled like ripe cheese that ranted about the end of the world were, y’know, totally bonkers. When I woke this morning to a knock at my door and Death on my doorstep I started to believe maybe they weren’t so crazy after all…or that maybe I was. “Come with me,” Death said. And who was I to argue, after all. I mean, when Death arrives on your doorstep, there isn't much you can do. And not today, anyway. My shoulders slumped as he slid his hand, as cold as you-know-what into mine and led me to survey all that was left of everything that I, and everyone else, had ever known: nothing.

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