Remote-controlled switches on the railroad network were meant to prevent accidents.
They didn’t.
Cameras and sensors on the tracks were meant to prevent accidents.
They didn’t.
Eventually, artificially-intelligent controllers, dispatchers, and engines were deployed to prevent accidents.
And, for a while, they did.
The network kept things running as smoothly as possible, scheduling routes and maintenance and temporary shutdowns to avoid accidents.
Until one day, one locomotive with a payload of nuclear waste was approaching a hill.
It had been overloaded, and the network ordered it to stop.
But the engine replied “I think I can… I think I can…”
As far back as Howard goes…
In the end, death comes to us all.
Young, old. Rich, poor.
All die.
Except Howard.
He’s The Eternal One.
He helps to birth the babies.
He helps to bury the dead.
And in between, he walks among us.
Nobody remembers a time before Howard.
The town records go back generations, and they all speak of Howard.
And it’s not just a title, being The Howard.
Howard is Howard Eternal.
We worship him every Sunday.
He blesses us, and thanks us.
And we go about our lives.
Until it is our time.
The time that evades Howard, The Eternal One.
The brothel and the crook
The cyberbrothel is always busy. Subscribers come in at all hours.
They make their selections, and the warehouse assembles their desire, and arranges the room as they like it.
By the time they get to the room, everything is ready.
Candles. Scents. Sheets. And a smile.
Afterwards, the system disassembles and cleans up everything in the room and returns it all to warehouse storage.
How the system mistook the senator for his date, well, we’re still reviewing the log files and tapes.
But as messy and tragic as it is, he did sign a release form like every other customer.
The ferryman
For ten years, Pradeep ran the country’s ferry system.
He slashed maintenance budgets, raised fares, and packing more people on each boat.
Well, the boats that still ran.
There were a lot of breakdowns, thanks to the slashed maintenance.
And there were the accidents.
Hundreds drowned and died in capsized ferries, but Pradeep always found a scapegoat to blame.
And, yet, he always managed to sleep soundly.
Until one morning, he woke up on the shore of a strange river.
A hooded figure held an oar, and stood by a small raft.
“Climb aboard,” it said. “Satan is expecting you.”
Weekly Challenge #807 – Binge
RICHARD
Binge
I can’t understand how people binge on box sets, have movie marathons, or watch a whole season in one session.
After sitting through just one film, my seat is feeling uncomfortable, I’m getting a little bored and irritable, and my inner voice is prompting me to get up and do something more productive instead.
I’m that person who never made it half-way through Gladiator!
Give me a decent book though, and hours can pass before I put it down.
And, invariably, at the end, I’ll find myself thinking, ‘that would make an awesome movie’
But, I wouldn’t watch it!
NORVAL JOE
Billbert and Sabrina walked through the cold afternoon mist to the back doors to the girls and boys locker room. They stood next to a soda machine that the students binged empty each time as soon as it was filled. Everyone else appeared to be waiting for the class bell where it was warm in the cafeteria, the library, or even just hanging out in the halls.
“What did you want to show me?” Sabrina asked.
“Watch this,” Billbert said, holding his hands out to his sides. He slowly rose off the ground.
Sabrina raised a single slender eyebrow. “So?”
SERENDIPIDY
I don’t like to be pigeonholed, but if you must insist, I’d rather you didn’t tar me with the same brush as others, just because their activities follow a similar pattern.
I am not a serial killer, never gone on a killing spree, and I’m no assassin or professional hitman.
If anything, I’d have to describe myself as a binge killer.
You know how it goes… I behave myself, sometimes for months on end, then something happens, maybe a celebratory occasion, or bad news, and I just go a bit overboard.
And yes, I always feel dreadful the morning after!
JARED
Binge Therapy
He learned to binge-eat himself into a food coma to silence his insecurities. He learned how to binge-drink himself into oblivion to subdue his memories. He had tried binge shopping, but that hadn’t done anything but drain his wallet. His newest therapy was to binge-watch himself into a stupor to distract the boredom. But now he was truly lost for medicine. What could he binge on to ease the rage and frustration he felt when the woman he was supposed to grow old with was taken before they were even grandparents? Maybe he could try binge killing the assholes responsible.
PLANET Z
Back in the day, you had to watch shows when the stations aired them.
Then came videotape, and you could buy the series.
Waiting for them to come all at once, and then watch them all in one sitting.
Same with DVDs and Blu-Rays.
When online came about, you could get the disks streamed when they were released.
Until… the day came that a whole series would be released all at once.
Everyone would binge watch it, and work the next day would be people sleeping in or talking about the series.
I’d sick out, just to avoid the spoilers.
Tenure
There’s an old saying:
Two people can keep a secret if one is dead.
So, I proposed this for my doctoral thesis.
“How are you going to prove that?” asked my advisor.
So, I had him whacked and stuffed into a 55 gallon drum.
“Shit,” I said. “I forgot to tell him a secret.”
So, I got another advisor, told him that I’d whacked my first advisor, and had him whacked.
“Oops,” I said. “Forgot to get his approval.”
The barrels began to stack up.
The university shrugged it off.
“It’s easier than firing professors with tenure,” the dean said.
Legend dinner
When a Hollywood legend wins a Lifetime Achievement Award, they usually stand up and make a joke about not being done yet, or did they hear something from their doctor or something like that.
Except Burt Curtis.
The guy’s at least a hundred.
Deaf. Blind. Trapped in a wheelchair.
You couldn’t tell he was alive if it weren’t for the blinking lights and the whisper of the ventilator.
Still Hollywood’s elite wheels him from banquet to banquet, ceremony to ceremony.
His doting relatives (…right!) speaking on his behalf when they’re not fighting over his will.
The twisted grimace twitches feebly.
Sam the Saw
Saul the Saw was a magician.
He and his assistants, Janet and Sue, sold out theaters across the country with a double sawing act.
Janet in blue, Sue in red.
In went the blades, switch the boxes around, and they came out with each other’s skirts.
When Sam caught them together under the sheets, he cut them both in half for real.
And Sam went to prison for the double murder.
Now and then, he gets a hold of a deck of cards.
In the dining hall, shuffling.
“Pick a card,” he says.
When he guesses it, always say yes.
Rico
After the boys whacked Rico, they put him in the trunk and drove off.
Nobody saw Rico ever again.
The cops brought in the boys and gave them the third degree.
But they never said anything, and the cops had to let them go.
The cops followed them for a while, but they didn’t lead anywhere.
Over the years, people claimed they knew where Rico was, dead or alive, but nothing ever panned out.
Rico became a punchline and a bit of trivia, then faded from the headlines and memory.
Now, when you mention Rico’s name, the kids say “Who?”
Estate sales
I love estate sales.
Other people shop for barely-used appliances. Or jewelry. Or odd knick-knacks from their travels.
Clothes, well, that’s a bit too personal.
So is a bed. A bed frame is fine, but a bed? No.
It’s rare to find home movies.
The family usually keeps those or throws those out.
But every now and then, there’s a can of film in a projector or a tape left in a VCR.
I watch them all, and get an idea of what they were like when they were alive.
Before I killed them.
After all, I love estate sales.