I'm not sure how I feel about this one.
It could have been literally anyone who answered the phone. Anyone at all yet it had to be the one person she didn’t want to speak to.
“Hello, you’re speaking to Jack, can I take your account number, please?”
Goddammit why did he take a job at the exact internet provider she used? That was so inconvenient of him. She couldn’t quite get it together enough to answer him. She opened her mouth and closed it again, sighing.
A 10 Minute Tales first - a continuation of a previous story. The first can be found here.
“It’s raining again.”
“It’s always raining in this place. I don’t know how everyone hasn’t killed themselves just to get away from it.”
The being in gold snickered a little, twirling a tuft of hair absent-mindedly in their fingers.
The silver-eyed one smiled and poured them both another glass from the bottle placed between them.
The beauty of the challenge of writing from a prompt is that I never know what's going to come out. This one turned very different to how I was expecting it to.
It was like seeing Santa Claus in July, in fact, they were seeing Santa Claus in July. A large, white-bearded man in a rented Santa Claus outfit stood at the corner of the street handing out leaflets. They shuffled past, assuming he was advertising some Christmas event way way too early, but a sheet of paper was still shoved into each hand before they could avoid it.
“If this is another thing about me going to hell, I’m setting it on fire. That’s the third time this week.” The leaflet wasn’t even glanced at before Lucy tossed it in a nearby bin but Julie squinted at it in the bright summer sun.
“Nah, you’re not going to hell. The world is ending apparently.”
“It’s funny they say don’t talk to strangers but here I am talking to you and you’re not dangerous or anything.”
“No, I guess most people aren’t. But you never know who you might end up speaking to.”
“Yeah could be any kind of maniac. Some crazy person.” Laughter cracks through a tired voice, slightly hysterical in nature.
Sometimes the years would go by like the clichéd blink of an eye, barely time to take stock before another one rolled by. Often they were like a deep breath, flowing out, soothing and refreshing; each one bringing a new perspective. Each was something new; some innovation by mortals that had never occurred to those who had lived through everything.
Tales written from a prompt in just 10 minutes.
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