Chai Tea Latte

Chai Tea Latte

Every morning, suddenly, I am awake. My hair falls in my face as I sluggishly rise from my overly pillowed bed, the warmth leaking out from my nest as soon as my feet hit the cool wooden floor. My chest feels heavy and my eyes burn from sleep. Sometimes I have an alarm to turn off, and other days I’ve woken up on my own.

Some days, I brush my teeth and comb out my hair, styling it in the same fashion as any work day. Loose around my shoulders with a plaid or solid colored headband. I apply a brown, matte lipstick and apply just enough eye makeup to hide the bags under my eyes and make it seem as if I had a good night’s rest. My cardigans always matched my headband and my skirts always had biking shorts underneath. My socks were always white, or if I was feeling daring that day, patterned with some kind of cute animal. I have an image to keep, as any accountant would.

Other days I let my body flow freely, wearing just a loose tanktop and a pair of basketball shorts around my apartment. My tattoos are exposed and my hair goes wild and unbrushed for the sake of freedom. I might be drunk by noon, and I might stay sober until the sun goes down. If it’s a special occasion, I might even order in takeout and get high until I feel sideways and don’t know which way is up.

Between my days, there’s one thing that is always consistent. The shop around the corner from my apartment complex always calls to me at the same time each day. Thirty minutes before the coffee shop closes, I stop in, either in my perfect work attire or my messy loungewear, and I see her smile and wave to me, her smile perfect and her eyes crinkling just so.

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The most difficult thing about writing down your dreams…

…is the urge to make story out of them. I used to keep a dream journal, but kept repeatedly losing it, or the pen, or just plain forgetting to write anything down, but I still remember some of the dreams I put in there very vividly. For a while now I’ve been working on a short story that was inspired by a dream I had, and I should be able to publish it soon. I’ve just had… some difficulty in converting the dream to something a human can understand in story format, I guess.

In the dream I was at these abandoned ruins with my mother, and the entire structure was mostly in tact but with one giant television screen on one wall inside. People were gathered around it, watching a woman who was tied up and being filmed. I think it was a stream from somewhere terrible in the deep web. I wanted to save her, so I went to the basement of the ruins and had to fight a giant skeleton to release her using only the power of music. It worked, I saved the girl, and then left the monument. Outside of it was no longer lush and green, but a desert, and also I had been transported to the year 5000. I was concerned about my own disappearance, and had to use a time traveling vibrator in order to open a portal to my best friend’s bathroom mirror and tell him what happened, and that I loved him.

…It’s not an easy dream to turn into a story, that’s for sure. But I’m working on it. Unfortunately I had to cut out the my mother, the girl, the vibrator, giant skeleton, and fighting using the power of music. As awesome as it was to dream about doing that, it’s just not going to work. However, I am making a story loosely based around the ruins or whatever, and being transported so far into the future. That’s not a huge spoiler alert.

 

Always returning

Always returning

Some people have an allure to them, an absolute chemical and social attraction that draws in even the most strong willed of minds. He had a draw like that, and each time he came back to me, my life was ruined.

We dated for two years. He taught me to play chess and I showed him all the best spots to hang out. He read philosophy notes to me over the phone while I dozed off. I drew him pictures and left cute notes in his hoodie pockets while he saved up his allowances to take me to see plays and fairs. I was so in love, and he was so in love.

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#Katsparty

#Katsparty

Inspired by a writing prompt on Reddit.


It’s my birthday again.

My roommate, Joey, had practically assaulted me in order to put a stupid cardboard party hat on my head. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at it. The hat stuck out like a goddamn sore thumb compared to the rest of my look. My clothes are black, black, and you guessed it, black. I leaned in, examining my face in the mirror. I supposed it was about time to change my lip piercing to something less subtle. The stud always sort of got boring after a while, but for some reason, I always put that one in. Sighing, I figured it didn’t matter. I had work to do today. It was the only way that I couldĀ earn more time.

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companionship.exe Part One

companionship.exe Part One

Let’s play spot the reference.


Would you like to not be alone anymore? Press ‘Yes’ to confirm companionship.exe’
The dialogue box presented itself on the wall of my bedroom. I stared at it, pondering what it could mean. In the eighteen years I’ve lived here, my house has never run a prompt like this, much less started a process to keep me from being alone. 

My finger hesitated over the confirmation button. It’s been eighteen years. Why hasn’t my house run this function yet? Did it not know that I was lonely? It had learned my dislikes, my preferences, what song I want to play when I bathe, how I like my lights dimmed in the evening, and even when to turn on the sprinklers for my garden. 

What kind of companionship could the house offer? If I can go without human contact for he majority of my life, I’m sure I can live the rest of it without contact as well. Still, the possibilities ran through my mind. If I wanted to be alone again, I could always tell the house to let me be alone again, right? 

After a few minutes ticked by, I hit the ‘yes’ button. My curiosity had gotten the best of me, yet again. Let’s see what companionship.exe does.

Almost immediately, I could hear the supercomputer in the basement begin to whir. Electricity seemed to fill the air as companionship.exe was executed. I’ve had he house run processes this heavy before, but something seemed much different about this one. I heard a faint clanking noise from the basement, and instead of worrying, I sat down on the edge of my bed and took a deep breath. 

For what seemed like an eternity, but really only was about half an hour or so, the house buzzed with life as it ran this mysterious process. Distant banging sounds rang through the house every few minutes as it put together something. From what I know about the house, I figured it was some kind of dinky robot or advanced hologram system.

What walked through my door was neither of those. 

It didn’t even knock before entering. My head snapped up from my lap as I saw the being in my doorway. There was no way that he was human, since I know my house built him for me, but…

He leaned in the doorway, sunglasses on even though we were inside. He raised on hand, lazily waving at me before pushing aside some of his soft looking, platinum blonde hair. 

“Sup.”

‘Sup’ indeed. I got up, heart pounding as I made my way over to him. He didn’t seemed phased by my sudden intrusion of his personal space when I gently touched his clothes, his arms, or even ran my fingers across his cheek.

Synthetic skin overtop a metal skeleton. He felt so real. Almost human.

“What are you doing?” He stepped back, shaking his head. “At first I just wanted to see where you were going with this shit, but if I’m gonna live here with you, you can’t be fondling me all the damn time.”

Now that he’s speaking, I got a good taste of his voice. It was a sort of deep, but not quite, with a certain elegance behind it.

That night, I took my new friend outside. We sat on the fourth floor balcony, feet hanging out over the forest below us. For the first time in eighteen years, I was having a real conversation with someone.

His name is David, and his programming makes him thinks he’s human.