#SatSunTales 46 : Ultimate Decimation

I walk in the rain each year to remember what happened the day the world changed. The day the DuPont plant exploded in Indonesia and released a chemical solvent that reacted with water vapor into the atmosphere.

The solvent turned water vapor to hydrochloric acid, and more of itself. It only worked on water vapor. Like the clouds.

The world named that day “Ultimate Decimation Day”, the day one in every ten people died. 700,000,000 people. They were the lucky ones.

Billions suffered chemical burns. Rain got in their eyes, burning them. It got in their lungs, scarring them. And thanks to the water cycle, our chemical solvent was slowly replacing all the water on Earth. It was slowly killing the plants and animals.

Bacteria, with their short life cycles, might evolve immunity to the rain. Might. We wouldn’t. Ultimate Decimation Day was the day we all died.

150 Words
@LurchMunster


This is my entry into Rebecca Clare Smith‘s 46th #SatSunTales. Please, go read the other entries. It’s a tough challenge, and brings out some wonderful tales.

#FSF : Accident

It looked like an accident. Twisted metal, shattered glass, radiator fluid, oil, and gas pouring out everywhere, discoloring the road. People shouting into their phones, calling for help, holding their cameras aloft, taking pictures. Shock and disbelief filling their eyes, knowing they’d witnessed people die in a horrible collision between two cars. I closed my eyes, nodded, and drove off knowing everything had worked according to my plan.


Here’s my weekly attempt at Lillie McFerrin‘s flash fiction challenge, Five Sentence Fiction. This week, the prompt is Accident.

Please, go read all the other entries to this week’s Five Sentence Fiction. It’s amazing what creative people can do with just five sentences.

Dreams : The Azalea Died

18 months ago
I planted a new garden.
With new plants.
Different plants.
From the garden
Life destroyed.

I put in a camellia tree.
And an azalea bush.
Then I promised
I’d find other plants
To fill that garden out.

Much has happened
Since that day.
And my new garden’s
Changed.

The Azalea bush just died.
I don’t know why.
And no one can explain.

It’s just a part of life.

I took care of that plant.
Watered it.
Cared for it.
Talked with it.
Hell,
I even sang to it.

I checked the soil
That it was in.
Made sure to care for it
Just right.
For an azalea to grow.

But it wouldn’t grow.

Water didn’t work.
Plant food didn’t work.
Daily care was useless.

In the end,
I even tried
Calling in a specialist.

He worked with me
For a solid month.
We did the best we could.
But in the end
That plant flat
Wouldn’t grow.

Sometime’s life’s like that,
You know.

I did my best.
I did.
Took care of that friend.
Even gave that azalea
The best care I’d ever given
Any plant in any garden
That I’ve ever had.

And that sucker died
Anyway.

The specialist told me
He couldn’t see why
That bush just flat died.
We’d done everything right.
Everything that could be done
To take care of that plant.
Gave it every chance
We could.
That sucker should have thrived.

And yet.
It died.

I remember her.
Divorced.
Raising her daughter
On her on.
Dealing with the injuries
An elevator accident
Had caused in her.

The story of her home
Which she could barely pay for
Every month.
The days when dinner
Was a box
Of cereal.

Oh, the battles
That she faced.

But you know.
I didn’t fit.
I didn’t.
In that world of hers.
I couldn’t be the person
She wished me to become.
Couldn’t say the things
I knew to say.

And worst of all
I didn’t go to church.
And even when I did,
I didn’t believe
The same things
She did.

And just like that azalea bush
In the garden that I’ve made.
The friendship
That I tried to have
With her.

Just flat died.

She never even said
Good-bye.

That azalea’s gone.
But in the place
Where it once stood,
In my garden
Full of friends,
There are now so many more
Flowers than have ever been
In any garden
I have ever grown
Before.

Some of them are bloom once.
And then they die.
They have such fleeting lives.
Other come back
Every year.
Blooming all the time.

And I’m OK with that.
Because I’ve learned.
Sometimes it’s not what we want
That grows
That makes a garden beautiful.

It’s what grows
All on its own.