The Sound of Love

"What… What… What is that noise?!?" Chara leapt out of bed and hurried out of her room, bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor.

The loud grinding and whirring sound got louder to her ears as she approached the kitchen. When she got there, Darnell was standing in front of what looked like an enclosed beige-green coffee pot with occasional spurts of steam escaping from the top. He had a shocked expression and his hands were helplessly raised, trying to figure out how to turn off the device.

"What is this?" Chara asked.

Darnell gave her an apologetic smile. "I’m sorry. I got this soy milk machine and I wanted to surprise you with breakfast. I wasn’t expecting it to be this loud."

Chara sighed but couldn’t help smiling helplessly. Her husband was always so enthusiastic about buying new appliances and presenting them to her. He’d said before that he never wanted her to have to work hard, but he wanted her to have the best things out of life.

"How long does it run for?" she asked.

Darnell gestured at the LED display. "Twenty more minutes. Then I’ll use the soy milk to make you a strawberry and banana smoothie."

"Won’t the soy milk be hot?" she asked. The steam puffing out through the top vents and the faint burbling sounds told her the contents inside were boiling.

"It will be hot when it’s done, but I’ll add a little ice to cool it down quickly and I’ll put it back in the machine with some fruit. The instructions make it sound really easy." Darnell stepped over to her to wrap his arms around her in a comfortable hug. "From now on, your smoothies will be made from fresh soy milk or oat milk or rice milk or any other kind of milk you want to make. I’ll plant you some fruit trees and grow you some strawberries and blueberries and blackberries and raspberries and…"

Chara put two fingers over his lips. "Okay, okay. From now on we will enjoy delicious milk and smoothies and it’s all thanks to you. I love you." She smiled at him, her heart feeling warm in her chest.

There had been some that said their love would never last, but here they were. Married for ten years and more in love than ever before.

"Show me the instructions," she said. "I should learn how to use this thing if we’re going to be milking all kinds of nuts and grains in the future."

Darnell smiled, his eyes shining brightly. He led her over to the counter and presented a thin pamphlet. "These are the instructions. There’s also a magnetic chart we can put on the fridge that has some recipes we can try."

Chara flipped through the pamphlet to see what functions the soy milk machine had. "I guess I’m going to have to try all the recipes with you."

"I want to try everything with you," Darnell said.

She kissed him on the cheek. "Okay."

The soy machine made a loud grinding, whirring noise and emitted another puff of steam.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

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The 6-Inch Man

Waking up, Brendan thought at first that he’d been buried alive. He was covered in a layer of warm, nearly hot, softness that covered his entire body. He had to crawl and crawl until he was finally able to push his way out and draw in a gasping breath of clear air.

Wherever he was was dim and hard to see, but it was some huge space. The ceiling and walls on either side seemed to be miles away. He’d never heard of a building that had been built on such vast proportions. It was like being inside the ridiculously oversized mine of Erebor from "The Hobbit" movies, which had boggled his mind because one industrial accident would have resulted in a devastating flood of molten gold.

He squinted through the darkness, wondering if he’d been abducted by aliens. He’d gone to bed last night and here he was. Completely naked.

Who knew what had happened to him while he was sleeping.

He fumbled around on the surface he stood on, the bumpy softness made it hard for him to walk and he stumbled and fell several times. He reached the edge and realized he was at least two maybe three stories up. If he jumped down onto the hard wooden surface below he might break a leg. He didn’t think it was safe enough to risk it.

The light around him was brightening slowly. When he’d first woken, it had been dark enough that he’d been barely able to see his hands held out in front of him. Now he could make out the wood grain of the level below him.

He sat down to wait for it to get brighter. He didn’t want to waste his energy stumbling around in circles. He was already a bit hungry and thirsty, but he had no idea where to find food or water. It was better to conserve his strength until he could make a survival plan.

Brendan sat and closed his eyes. He drew in deep breaths through his nose and slowly exhaled out through his mouth. He couldn’t let himself panic.

The surroundings brightened and he opened his eyes to look around. His brow furrowed, then his eyes widened in surprise.

He got to his feet and turned around in circles, taking everything in.

This is my bedroom, he thought in amazement. It was the same size as it had always been, but it was him that had gotten small. Incredibly small.

So small that his electric blanket had nearly suffocated him in his sleep.

"How…" He clenched his hands together, squeezing until it felt as though his fingers were going to pop off, then he forced himself to let go.

Today was the first day of his two week vacation. He’d put in for time off from work with the expectation of a video game fueled staycation. Nobody was going to care if he didn’t show up today, or tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day… Nobody was going to check up on him or call the police or worry about him at all because they would just assume he was enjoying his vacation.

Nobody was going to care until they found his teeny tiny skeleton, likely still on his bed BECAUSE HE WAS TOO SMALL TO CLIMB DOWN.

Brendan stared out at the vast room around him and didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He didn’t know how he’d shrunk in the first place, so reversing the process was as far away from him as the moon.

"This sucks."

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

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Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire

Seated in front of the fireplace drinking hot cocoa with little marshmallows and snacking on homemade zucchini chips. It could have been a normal winter day in a normal life, except it wasn’t. Because the world outside was dark and grim, ashes coating everything, the air far too thick to breathe.

If Bernie hadn’t ever heard about "Silent Hill," she would have fallen so far into shock that she would have died before figuring everything out. As it was, she was glad there weren’t horrible mutant(?) monsters running around with like blades for hands or something. She’d never played the video game and the movies had been too scary for her to watch, but she’d seen trailers and heard enough about the franchise that she’d been able to realize that she was screwed. The world was screwed, and she was living in it, so she was screwed too, and there was nothing she could do about it but enjoy the last bits of her life before she died.

She’d used packing tape to seal up the windows and doors, and she was glad there was a carbon filter on the fireplace flue to prevent the stuff outside from coming in. Though she knew it was far from perfect, and this was all just borrowed time.

"Hey Mom, Mom, are Dad and Uncle Ross going to be okay?"

No, they’re dead, Bernie didn’t say. She forced a reassuring smile and looked at her daughter. "They’re probably fine. The minute everything happened, they would have gone inside where it was safe. They would have blocked up the windows and doors just like us, and just like us they’re waiting for all this to clear up before they come back home. We just have to wait."

"Oh." Alice chewed on her lower lip with tiny white teeth. She held her reindeer mug with both hands and the pink thermal shirt and pants she wore were dingy and in need of a wash. Her favorite fleece blanket was draped over her shoulders like a cape.

"Honey, don’t bite your lip. You’re going to hurt yourself," Bernie said. "Why don’t you eat another chip?"

Alice grimaced. "They’re gross. I don’t like them. Can’t we eat something else?"

If this were a regular disaster, one where they could expect the government to send in the national guard and rescue them, Bernie would have insisted that they should save the little food they have. She would ration things so Alice would have enough to eat while she would eat just enough to stay alive until help came. But this wasn’t a regular emergency.

This wasn’t the aftermath of a hurricane or a tornado or a flood. This was the aftermath of nuclear war.

Those last few minutes watching the news before everything had cut out had made it clear that this was the end of everything. Those ashes falling from the sky, choking the Earth, were loaded with radiation.

We’re dying already, she thought. She didn’t know much about nuclear bombs or nuclear winters, but she’d seen stuff about Japan after Hiroshima. She’d watched "Chernobyl" on HBO.

Knowing that these last moments were fleeting at best, she forced a smile. "I know, why don’t we roast chestnuts?"

"Huh?" Alice cocked her head. She was so young it made Bernie’s heart hurt.

"I’ve never done it, but I’ve always wanted to try it. Like in the Christmas song. We can roast chestnuts over an open fire."

"How do we do it?" Alice asked, sounding interested.

Bernie thought a moment. "I’ve looked it up before. We’ll use a cast iron skillet when it’s time to roast them, but before that we’ll cut Xs in them and soak them in water. That makes them steam to cook themselves and we don’t have to worry about them cracking and popping. I don’t think they explode, but we don’t want to risk losing any of our chestnuts."

She stood up, carrying her half drunk cocoa with her toward the kitchen. "I’m glad I bought them. They were supposed to be for the squirrels, but I don’t think the squirrels will mind if we eat some."

Alice followed after her. "I’ve never had roasted chestnuts. Are they good?"

"I don’t know," Bernie said. "I’ve never tried them either."

There were so many things she’d never tried before. So many things she was never going to get to do–like growing old or watching Alice grow up–but today, on the eve of destruction, she was going to roast chestnuts over an open fire with her daughter.

She hoped they were delicious.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

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