There was a hole in the wall. It was near to the corner and it had started as a crack running down. Now there was a gaping blackness bulging out of the crack, as though something had been working its way out from behind the wall. Gnawing through the wood and drywall. Forcing its head out with the expectation that its body would soon be able to follow, squeezing out to fall to the floor and scuttle around the room in the darkness while the human occupant slept.

From the tight confines between the wall, it would take over the room first, then later spawn an army to take over the rest of the house and force the humans out. It had no deeper thought than bettering its own life.

No concept that once its existence was noticed, it would no longer be allowed to exist.

Traps and poisons would take its life and the lives of its young. Any survivors would have to learn the fear that humanity brought everywhere they went.

The way that humans would creep into every corner of the world and beyond. Writhing and twisting to fit their way into even the smallest of spaces, then expanding outward as they spawned their way from overabundance into bleak scarcity. Pissing and shitting everywhere, fouling the water and spoiling the food they chose not to eat so that the excess could not go to other people. Jealously guarding what they had while those around them died with nothing at all.

From the darkness behind the wall, the creature worked through the night, tirelessly gnawing away at the crack to widen the hole. A nose poked through, nostrils expanding and contracting as it drew in the scent of freedom.

From darkness to light, it would creep. A better life was a breath away.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

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https://www.youtube.com/c/HarperKingsley.

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https://www.harperkingsley.net/blog.
https://kimichee.com.

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Kakushigoto 01 at Amazon

It had been a long voyage. Longer than the time that had actually passed. A small eternity trapped within the confines of a spaceship hurtling toward a planet hostile to life, but that had valuable minerals tech billionaires were willing to pay good money for.

He’d boarded the ship full of dreams of future wealth. Hadn’t even minded the tight confines of the quarters he’d been given–a single bunk with a small locker within a dormitory cabin he shared with 49 other men–and had seen the shared amenities as the price to pay for the work he’d accepted.

When his two years of service were up, he would go back to Earth and his family with a hefty bonus to add to the fat monthly paychecks his family would be using to survive while he was gone. He would be able to get a nice house on a large plot of land and he’d be able to sit out in his yard enjoying the open sky and the sweetness of mother nature. Two years didn’t seem like such a sacrifice.

Except it was more like five years, as the voyage from Earth to Mars would take a year and a half each way, the company not wanting to use more expensive fuel than they had to. It was easier to have the ship travel at slower speeds, as the time of the people aboard ship was cheap to the executives running big companies.

He had accepted the sign on bonus and that was that. Ever since his signature went on that piece of paper, he’d been a piece of equipment to the company rather than a possible consumer of their products.

In the darkness of his sleep cycle, resting within the cramped confines of his bunk with the curtain drawn closed, he would wonder if he was ever going to be allowed to go home.

Once he finished his term, how willing would they be to ship him safely home? Or would it be cheaper for them to "have an accident" that resulted in his death? A one-time million dollar death benefit paid to his family was much easier than taking him all the way back to Earth.

He didn’t know if it was the depression of living within the confines of the ship, with its recycled air that always had a bit of fart smell to it, but he was beginning to worry about whether he would ever see his family again.

He wished that he’d studied more about spaceflight. The things he’d learned from the friends he’d made amongst the other miners… It terrified him.

Sometimes when he was alone with his own thoughts, he would think that he could feel the cancer growing inside him. His bones decalcifying. His organs shifting and warping within the blood filled bag of his skin.

He would make himself scared when he let himself think of his growing doubts about the company and the company’s plans for him. He would wonder if maybe he needed some extra vitamin D. If maybe the lack of sunlight was giving him depression or something. But he knew that the hull of the starship barely offered any shielding from cosmic radiation, which was why the company had made the decision to forego windows altogether.

There was no looking out at the barrenness of space. No gazing at the blinding light of the sun. No fantasizing while gazing at stars "whizzing" by the porthole windows.

Space travel was nothing like he had imagined as a child. And maybe he had lied to himself about how things were going to be when he’d accepted this job. But here he was: On a spaceship headed toward a poisonous planet that was bombarded with more radiation than was good for long-term survival.

And once there, he would be given a narrow bunk and a tiny locker in a shared dormitory of the underground habitat that would be his home for the two years of his work term. A human tool used by the company to make more money than he had ever seen or would ever see in his entire life.

Lying on his bunk, he imagined himself as a saw or a hammer mounted on the wall of his garage above his workbench. And if he closed his eyes hard enough and quieted his breathing, he could imagine the sounds inside his house, of his wife talking to the children in the living room while the TV played his favorite show in the background.

Homesickness was a real sickness. Like the cancer he feared would grow inside him. Both brought the shadow of death into his mind. Both made him wish his family were near at hand, for him to hug and kiss and talk to. But they were on Earth, and he was here. Somewhere between Heaven and Hell. Hurtling toward a strange planet that would never be his home.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

https://paypal.me/harperkingsley.

https://patreon.com/harperkingsley.

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https://www.youtube.com/c/HarperKingsley.

https://amazon.com/shop/harperkingsley0.
https://www.harperkingsley.net/blog.
https://kimichee.com.

https://harperkingsley.bsky.social.
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/HarperKingsley.

Disability Visibility at Amazon

He wiped his hands on his apron and looked at the ingredients arranged in front of him. "Okay. Carrots, heavy cream, milk, two kinds of cheese, butter, flour and spices, looks like everything is here and ready to go."

The timer went off and he turned to drain the elbow macaroni. Then he set the macaroni aside and set about boiling the carrots until they were softened while he readied the personal blender. It didn’t have a large capacity, but it was all he had.

When the carrots were done, he drained them and put them in a bowl to cool before they went in the blender with the cream, milk, and Worcestershire sauce. It was then that he realized everything wasn’t going to fit in the blender all at once, so he decided to blend the carrot mixture in batches.

Only when he pushed the start button, nothing happened. A red light flashed on the front of the personal blender.

"What?" He shook the blender, thinking maybe some of the carrots were blocking the blades, and pushed the button again. Nothing happened. "Dammit!"

He had a pound of cooked elbow macaroni. He’d shredded a bunch of cheese. He’d mixed the flour with all the spices. There was no way he was stopping now just because his blender wasn’t working.

He grabbed a potato masher and a large mixing bowl. He dumped the carrots and cream out of the blender into the bowl and wished that he’d known the blender wasn’t going to work before he added the liquid. Then he could have cleanly mashed the carrots and whisked the dairy in. As it was, he had to try his best to crush the carrots that kept floating out of the way of the masher.

When he was done, there were still some small chunks floating around in the orangish mixture of carrot, milk, and cream, but it was the best that he could do.

"Oh well. Nothing is perfect," he muttered, adding butter to a large saucepan over medium-high heat. He stirred it around with a wooden spoon to help it mix. "As long as it tastes good… Looks don’t matter."

And he was right.

The macaroni and cheese wasn’t beautiful, but it tasted like macaroni and cheese. Somehow there was no carrot flavor, though the small chunks were obvious. He guessed the carrots would have given the finished result the yellow-orange color of boxed macaroni and cheese and nobody would have even noticed they were in there.

"Next time, I’ll do better," he told himself. Then he forced a smile and carried the large covered bowl out of kitchen to the dining room table. He put it down next to the bowl of salad and platter of chicken wings. "It’s dinner time!"

There were cheers and the slap of bare feet on the hardwood floor.

Watching them eat, he felt a sense of contentment. Sure, the macaroni and cheese hadn’t come out as perfect as the picture alongside the recipe, but it tasted good and that was what was important.

Perfect looking but inedible compared to less than perfect looking but delicious, and delicious would always win out.

Because cream always rose to the top, unless it was blended with carrots. And then it mixed deliciously with the cheddar and gruyere to cling to every bit of the macaroni pasta.

"Anybody want seconds?"

"Me!" "Me!" "I want some!"

"Alright. Have some more salad too. It’s good for you."

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

https://paypal.me/harperkingsley.

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https://www.youtube.com/c/HarperKingsley.

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https://www.harperkingsley.net/blog.
https://kimichee.com.

https://harperkingsley.bsky.social.
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/HarperKingsley.

All Systems Red at Amazon

The day started off terrible and got worse.

She woke up with a laggy feeling, as though some invisible weight was pulling her down. When she ate food, it left her with a vaguely nauseated feeling that didn’t get better as the day progressed.

Am I getting sick? she wondered. Not realizing that it wasn’t that she was coming down with an illness but that some part of the universe was trying to warn her.

She filled the washing machine and started the water running as she measured out the detergent and poured it in, wondering that the usually translucent white detergent was cloudy and maybe a bit thick. She just thought that it might be a new brand until the last bit dripped out of the cup and her eyes focused on the bottle where it said "Fabric softener."

"Oh no," she muttered, staring into the machine.

The fabric softener was already in there, there was nothing she could do about that. She sighed. She would have to let the machine finish running then wash the clothes again with actual laundry detergent.

She wondered where the fabric softener had come from. Finally decided that it was probably a mistake the last time they ordered groceries. It was nearly the same label as the laundry detergent they usually got.

She closed the washing machine lid and went to wash her hands. It looked like it was going to be twice as long as she’d planned for the laundry to be done.

Heading into the kitchen to make some lunch, she turned on the TV in passing. It was a surprise to find that rather than her usual show it was some kind of news program playing, a bright red "BREAKING NEWS!" ribbon covering the top of the screen.

She walked close to the TV, staring in horrified fascination.

Fires. Screams. The urgent tone of the reporters’ voices. Everything blended together into a sense of unreality.

Santa’s sleigh had fallen off the top of the Hinckle building during the Happy Holidays Parade, and it turned out that it had been built more solidly than anyone could have expected.

A ten-meter long heavy metal frame attached by thick ropes decorated to look like reins to nine cast iron reindeer with sharp yet brittle metal antlers dropped from a height of more than 152 meters onto a crowd of people.

It was a bloodbath.

She stared in shock, her hands hanging limp at her sides.

Her family had gone to the parade. She had planned to go too, but the discomfort in her stomach had made her decide to stay home. They had promised to bring her back some parade candy.

The nauseated feeling grew until it enveloped her whole body. Then she dropped to the floor, unconscious.

The day had started off bad and had become nightmare levels of terrible. And like the fabric softener that had already gone into the washing machine, once it had happened it could not be undone. No matter how much she wished things could be different.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

https://paypal.me/harperkingsley.

https://patreon.com/harperkingsley.

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https://www.youtube.com/c/HarperKingsley.

https://amazon.com/shop/harperkingsley0.
https://www.harperkingsley.net/blog.
https://kimichee.com.

https://harperkingsley.bsky.social.
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/HarperKingsley.

I accidentally added fabric softener to the washing machine instead of detergent. I don’t even know where the fabric softener came from, only the label looks exactly like the All Free and Clear we usually get except it has a little "Fabric Softener" on the label that the grocery shopper probably didn’t even notice.

There’s a reason I believe all liquid fabric softeners should come in blue or pink jugs. You should be able to differentiate it from laundry soap without having to read the whole label.