It’s been a busy week at the Musical Fiction Factory, or at least in the office…so here’s this week’s Fictioneers story. I have some time off next week, so there’s a good likelihood that a few stories will be in the offing on my vacation days.
copyright Marie Gail Stafford
Message In A Bottle
We sat at the table of the faux Chinese restaurant, like we do every Sunday. I picked up the bottle of hot sauce to douse my fried rice, when I saw it.
“Marie, there’s a note in this hot sauce.”
“What? Well, open it up and get it out!”
Sighing heavily, I did what she told me. I pulled out the long note, and read it out loud.
“My name is Stewart Copeland. This is my SOS. I’m stuck in the Sriracha factory. I hope that someone gets my message in a bottle.”
I only wonder how long that message has been in that bottle…
Here’s your latest installment of Friday Fictioneers. I will have other stories coming up soon, since it is Lunar New Year and I’m not being swamped with utter and complete stupidity.
copyright Claire Fuller
I Hate This Job
“What the heck is going on out there?” Mr. Dworkin called out from his office.
The shop was all quiet except for a solitary robot, working at a CNC lathe.
“Hey! You! Lathe-boy! Where did everyone go?”
The robot kept working on the lathe, paying the old man no mind.
“Well, whatever you do, don’t be smoking on the job. We have wood in this place.”
Just as Mr. Dworkin sat down again, the head of the robot popped off and smoke started to fill the workshop. He looked up, and growled.
It was just another night like any other. My 33 year old self went home after a hard day of work, picking up a half a pizza to gnaw on as my dinner and breakfast for the next day. I didn’t even get through one of the 4 slices before I just passed out. At that time, the sun was just going down on the horizon.
“…hey….you….”
For some reason, I kept hearing this voice while I slept.
“…hey…wake up…”
I really did think I was dreaming. Until I felt something like icy hot running up my foot from ankle to middle toe. That was when I sat up straight and looked around. My eyes adjusted to the dark a little bit, and I didn’t see anything. I looked down at my clock, that cried at me 2AM. I thought that it was annoying that I was woken up at 2AM for no reason. After putting down the clock, I looked back in front of me.
“Hi! You’re awake!”
I saw this ghostly apparition in front of my face. The first thing that went through my mind, in a split second, was that I was dreaming again. After blinking once, I realize that, in fact, I wasn’t.
The apparition backed up a little bit and twisted it’s face into a bit of an annoyed look.
“Oh come on, it’s not like I was intentionally trying to scare you!”
I looked at this ghostly figure and realized that it’s voice was that of a young woman’s. I sat for almost a minute looking at it, and just tried to make sure that I wasn’t in fact dreaming. Firmly satisfied in the fact that I wasn’t dreaming, and that I was being visited by something of a spirit, I looked at it and had a queried look on my face.
“Are you here to kill me?”
The spirit giggled a slight bit, then sighed.
“No, I am not going to kill you. The reason I’m here is of a totally different matter.”
“What might that be?” I asked her, as I determined that the spirit was definitely female.
“Quite simply, you’ve been asking God for a wife for a long time. I’m here to tell you that God is listening to you.”
I pikued at this. Now, the question in my head was how the hell did she know THAT?. So I decided to probe a bit more.
“Okay, you say that you’re from God. Were you sent by Christ to visit?”
“You mean Jesus the Christ? Died on the cross? Yes, I was sent by Christ. However, I will say that I’m not an angel or anything like that.”
“Then…what are you?”
“I am actually the spirit of your future wife!”
I heard this, and my mind just went blank. I couldn’t think of anything to say. So I did the only thing natural. I laughed, and I laughed in a way that made it seem like I was going insane. After about a minute, and a bit of a sulking from my future wife ghost, I finally was able to get my laughter down.
“Okay, so let me get this straight: You are my future wife, but you’re in spirit form. You were sent by Christ to visit me and tell me that God is listening to me? About what?”
She just smiled at me in the way a female ghost, who really didn’t have much of a form besides that of a general feminine outline, could only do so.
“Your love life, lack therein, and your future with me!”
My eyes just glazed over again, before I cleared them up.
“I am going to humor this. So, you are my wife in the future. Does the person you’re inhabiting know this?”
“Innately, yes. But I don’t know who you are yet. I know you’re out there somewhere, on the western skyline. However, I don’t know your identity and won’t know.”
I looked at her and sighed.
“This just keeps getting stranger and stranger,” I told myself, before looking at her again.
“Alright, future wife spirit, I guess I have to ask this again so I can get a bit of understanding. Why are you here, in my room?”
She looked at me with what seemed to be a little bit of a baffled look, then smiled.
“I was sent to you by Christ to let you know that I will find you eventually, that you should be patient, and that you should wait on Christ’s timing. It will happen, you just need to be open to waiting.”
“Even if the world is going to hell in a handbasket?”
“Yep! I’ll find you somehow! But you won’t know who I am until such time as Christ gives you the signal.”
I just sat there for a few moments and shook my head.
She moved to the foot of my bed, and smiled at me. I realized that it was actually comforting to have her here, and that indeed that it could be an actual message.
“Gotta run. I’m gonna be waking up soon. But, remember, I’m out there. I will wait for you.”
I was about to say something, but I heard only her voice as she disappeared saying over and over, “I will wait for you.”
I sat up for a while and just realized that the impossible became possible. And while it was only yesterday, I feel as though I will be with her soon. Call it a gut feeling.
Music and Fiction 