Tag: dystopia

Giving the fingers

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Ever say something you wish you could take back?
Mine’s easy. It’s: “If you’re going to censor people’s free speech for fear of offending anyone, why not just cut off everyone’s middle finger while you’re at it?”
Five weeks later, and I’m sitting on top of the largest pile of severed middle fingers in history. It’s a bloody, rotting heap of madness, and it’s getting bigger by the pair.
I think it’s some kind of World Record. World’s largest pile of severed human appendages. The guys who confirm those things came by last week.
And lost their middle fingers, too.

Paranoia Sandwich

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Just as the simultaneous invention of the telephone led to a rivalry between Alexander Graham Bell and some Italian dude, apparently “my” sandwich is being claimed as the development of a shopkeeper in Kazakhstan.
Thieving foreign scum…
Hey, what would you rather eat: a Laurence Simon or an Abu Salam Abdul Khouri Al-Mohammed Jafari?
What’s in it? What’s in my sandwich? Well, there’s… wait a minute. I know what you’re trying to do…
You’re trying to steal my sandwich!
I know who you are… you’re an agent of Jafari. Well, I’m no fool. I won’t tell you a damned thing!

Do You Have Wars?

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Communication between the dimensions via hyperradio has been severely limited despite centuries of development. Brief messages, rotated ninety degrees from reality like passing notes in school.
Which is what it was used for in the end – grade school penpal projects.
After years of “Do you have a dog?” and “I like flowers.” the notes stopped. The last message to arrive was:
“Do you have wars?”
And that was it. Nothing else. Just hyperstatic.
As dull as they were, we will sure miss the daily chatter with those Earthers.
I think I’ll get the class a pet to raise tomorrow.

Hedges

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Every day I wake up, I put on my robe and head for the center of the hedgemaze where servants have placed my medicine.
You’d think I could navigate in my sleep by now, but the hedges are mounted on special tracks of my own design, allowing them to be rearranged into new configurations and challenges.
Lawson the Mazemaster waits in the middle, sipping tea and reading my papers. The sooner I solve his creation, the less of my crosswords he’ll finish.
My butler hands me a sword. “Five minotaurs today,” he says.
Ah, medicine and exercise. My quest begins!

Jury of my peers

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Technically, it doesn’t violate the Fifth Amendment, since it’s not really me up there on the stand. It’s only the holographic projection of a self-aware virtual copy.
It’s nothing more than a recording, the courts decided a year ago, so careless fools like me end up facing our shimmering dopplegangers when we get caught.
All I did was run a red light, and I’m getting a fine and points off my license.
The self-aware copy up there, on the other hand, gets a sentence of death.
Serves the damn traitor right for not sticking up for me… I mean himself.

New Australia

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Prisons Ministry looked at Gate Technology and dreamt of a New Australia.
“The parallel universe is habitable,” said the Warden-General. “Just like Prehistoric Earth. Better there than wrecking civilization here.”
The test prisoners went through without problem, surviving the trip and living out their lives peacefully across the Gate.
Approval was given, and prisoners were shipped off by the hundreds.
Eventually the world treated the Gate as their social garbage disposal. Murders. Rapists. Thieves. Tax cheats. Jaywalkers.
Until one day, research determined that they actually were going into Prehistoric Earth.
And they were hunting Homo habilis for sport.
Civilization vanished.

Diamonds are not a girls’ best friend

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It was Tina’s first time.
The deal was simple: she’d swallow the bag of diamonds, fly to Rome, and then she’d crap them out.
It would have been the easiest ten thousand dollars she ever made. What could possibly go wrong?
When she landed, Customs waved her through.
They were waiting for her. Tossed her in a car and drove for a few hours until they got to the villa.
“Change of plans.”
They shot her, cut her open, pulled out the diamonds, and buried the rest.
They used to harvest and sell the organs. Too much of a hassle.

Good morning, sunshine

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Scientists have yet to explain why the sun had a big smiley face on it yesterday.
Despite warnings telling people not to look directly at it, many people still tried. Lots of cases of blindness in the hospitals today.
Never mind the people medicated to the gills and strapped to their beds, completely freaked out at the idea that the sun had a smiley face on it.
There’s no smiley sun today. No sun at all, in fact.
By my watch, it’s already two hours late.
Perhaps if we all smile, it will show up before we freeze to death?

Trashman

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You thought you could hide from me.
You were wrong.
Every morning, I want to see her there, feel her touch.
You took her away from me, left her under a garbage heap.
Her hand in mine. Her other hand. Her foot.
Torn to pieces By you.
I want to see you bleed, but the years have taken their toll. I am blind now.
I will have to satisfy myself with feeling the warm, slick blood running down your throat.
Maybe I will taste it, seeking the flavor of your rapidly ending life.
I want to see you bleed.
Forever.

Liver

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Despite the best efforts of the best doctors in the world, Jenny needed a new liver. I’d give her mine, but it wasn’t enough of a match.
For a million dollars, Rico said he could get one that would be a perfect match.
I sold everything and gave the money to Rico.
It was barely enough.
Within hours, a medical cooler was being rushed to the hospital. In it was Jenny’s new liver.
The hospital paged the transplant team, and they all rushed in.
Except for the lead surgeon. He’d already arrived in the morgue hours ago.
Without a liver.