This week’s challenge was to write a story dealing with a deity. The Simulation Hypothesis has been on my mind the last few days (I’d blame Black Mirror, but I think it’s more likely my current Teaching Company lecture about the mysteries of time that really started this recent train of thought rolling.) I think that’s fairly obvious like two lines into this story.
Story after the break.
The prompt this week was a pair of themes:
1. Doing a good thing sometimes means being evil.
2. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.
In my narrator’s head, he thinks he’s doing the first. But that’s only what developed after I started riffing on the second. Story after the break
This week’s Wendig challenge was a random image search using Flickr’s built-in randomizer according to an algorithm they call “interestingness.” I was not impressed at first, even though my friend Matt showed me a pretty cool image he got. I had to refresh mine 4 times before I got something that wasn’t a bird. That’s not an exaggeration. Each click popped up 9 photos in a grid. I got 27 straight birds. Birds aren’t that interesting, people. They really aren’t.
So eventually I ended up with this really cool image of a chicken satay street vendor in Jakarta, uploaded by photographer Alex Newman. At first I ran with that. Then, while browsing other pictures of Indonesia on Flickr, I ran across the image to the right. My character sketch of a lonely street vendor on a rainy day in Jakarta evolved into the story of a lecherous man who is coaxed into even greater evil by a demonic spirit. Story is after the break. Enjoy.
So, Matthew X. Gomez convinced me to get back on the weekly fiction bandwagon, and I’m going to try to keep up with him. Below is the first new story I’ve written in awhile.
The Porcelain Cat
I suppose I ought to document the strange occurrences at my house over the last month or so. It all started after my mother’s funeral and my having been willed an old porcelain cat that no one seems to recognize. Why she should wish me to have anything at all while my father is still alive is a mystery at best, but particularly when considering what it was she left me.