Not One Of Us

They watched Mark with great interest. Everything about him screamed that he was different, from the way he was dressed (tattered blue jeans and a Winter is Coming t-shirt) to the way he shunned their company.

As he walked briskly past, heads turned seemingly as one. Before long, Mark had a large retinue, each individual dressed in a dark blue suit, following after him. He hurried on without directly acknowledging their attention.

"He's not one of us."

Mark stopped. "Why won't you leave me alone?"

"We just want what's best for you, Mark. Join us and never be alone again."

Traveling Salesman

Henry knocked on his 8th door that morning. The woman of the house answered, still dressed in her bedclothes, with chopsticks through her hair bun. A remote worker rather than a stay-at-home mom. The latter at least take the time to look presentable before answering to a stranger.

This initial assessment was essential, as he used it to gauge which of the dozen memorized scripts he'd start with. The company believed using the right script equaled making a sale, but in his experience it didn't really matter. Whoever first told him these bibles would sell themselves was the real salesman.

Interview

“Why do you want to work here?”

I’ve been warned about this, the stupidest, trickiest interview question. Don’t say you, like all job seekers, need a paycheck to pay the rent. They don’t want reality, they want flattery. But don’t get personal. Don’t say it’s because the interviewer is charming. It must be something you like about the company, and it must be believable.

Easy! I give her the real reason I’m attracted to this place. The building is right next to a bus stop, so I won’t have to walk far in bad weather.

I don’t get the job.

From Guest Contributor R.K. West

Coffee?

Coffee? I asked.

Totally, you replied.

When I offered an invitation, you always accepted. You never extended one yourself.

Was this friendship a one-way mirror, a one-way road, a one-note song?

Over several years, I pondered what it signified. If a friendship is only one-sided, is it a friendship at all?

I waited. I didn’t hear from you. Months.

Lunch? I asked.

Can’t wait, you answered.

More months later.

Dinner?

Tomorrow? Your text read.

Your company was always innocuous, comforting in a way. Reliably benign.

I never messaged you again. After nineteen years, that was the last time we spoke.

From Guest Contributor Justene Musin

The Right Thing

When I stepped into the cold of the night, the wind against my face, there wasn’t a soul in sight. I walked the streets in desperate need of an answer. Those files I found would ruin the company and probably cost me my job but inevitably save lives. I wish I hadn’t come across those documents. At least I wouldn’t have insomnia.

After what seemed like hours, I had an idea. I’d go in tomorrow as if nothing happened. No one would suspect a hard working every-day man like me would do what I decided.

And that’s the right thing.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

What The Stars Saw

The stars saw her face, someone who wishes wildflowers never died, thunder always accompanied rain, and the sounds of the waves were something that left the shoreline. Even the tears she shed when she thought it was only her and the items of clothes on the floor because the mirror just did not look right. The stars saw the smile she wore when he cherished her in the dark and the tears she lost when she was left to her own company on the worst nights. Some nights the stars were enough. Some nights, she wished they would do more.

From Guest Contributor Caitriona Mullenix

Slab Of Butter

James had few true pleasures remaining in his life. Time, divorce, and the company had taken most everything. His doctor seemed intent on taking what remained.

"You're going to have to cut out alcohol and fatty foods."

James stared down at his bowl of greens. Across the table, George was cutting into his steak. Steven, keeping it light, had a baked potato topped with sour cream, chives, and bacon. They both drank from judicious glasses of red wine.

"Can you pass me that plate?"

Ignoring the stares from his friends, James smeared a large slab of butter onto his salad.

Memories

My grandmother tells me not to forget where she is. But she’s forgotten who I am. Would it matter if I was back soon like I told her I would be? Am I even a part of her fragmented memory? She lit up when she saw me (but she could have just craved company). The nurses have to be her companions now. The granddaughter role in her life doesn’t exist anymore. Are you a granddaughter still when your grandmother doesn’t know your name? Face? My grandmother lives in the past now but not the past I am a part of.

From Guest Contributor Olivia Bond

Work

At first, I kept my distance, suspicious of my new colleague. They had replaced my good friend Jen, which had left me bitter. I know that wasn’t his fault, but still.

After they’d been with the company for three months my stance started to soften. He started to sound like the rest of us.

He complained of no autonomy. The cramped working conditions. Management being clueless and disorganized. Finally, he ranted about the microwave smelling and dirty dishes piled high.

Looking back I don't know what all the fuss was about. It turns out the androids are just like us.From Guest Contributor Wendy Cooper

Wendy was born and raised in England but now resides in Vancouver, BC. Wendy is autistic and co-founder of the Autistic Writers' Group. Wendy placed third in the Women on Writing Spring 2023 Flash Fiction competition.

Medical-alert

In the advertisement, an elderly woman thanks the company. After a fall, she immediately used the medical-alert device to signal for help. She is now alive. But…

"I can't stand that thing."

"How do you mean, Harriet?"

We are now dealing with Harriet and Gertrude. Real people, not women in advertisements.

"George is still alive, Gert."

Harriet had been married to George for 57 years when he fell and successfully used the device.

"Damn, Harriet. That reminds me of Frank."

Gertrude, too, had been married for 57 years, in her case to Frank, who had one of the devices also.

From Guest Contributor David Sydney