Saturday's Storyteller: "There is no free will."
by Belinda Roddie
"There is no free will," said the city man with stubble and a popped up shirt collar. "There are only shirts, and small rooms with white walls, and societal influences beyond your control."
"Clearly," replied the writer with a forkful of cheesecake, "you don't know what the fuck free will is."
Outside, Armageddon was blooming like a coked out flower doing one last crash binge before the end. And in the world of San Francisco, syringes formed faces and kissed on the shit-covered asphalt. And before you knew, there was a second Pride, and rainbows formed to cover the cracks and scars of the abandoned storefronts and skyscrapers. And all was well, after all - because we couldn't control Doomsday, no matter how hard we tried.
Except for the city man. He went to sleep full knowing that he was an automaton - because he hadn't been able to buy the cake he wanted at the local grocery store, and beforehis date, he had chosen to pop his collar, just like every Chad with a full jaw and eyebrows thick enough to build a bridge linking Heaven and Hell.
This week's prompt was provided by Michelle Adams.
"There is no free will," said the city man with stubble and a popped up shirt collar. "There are only shirts, and small rooms with white walls, and societal influences beyond your control."
"Clearly," replied the writer with a forkful of cheesecake, "you don't know what the fuck free will is."
Outside, Armageddon was blooming like a coked out flower doing one last crash binge before the end. And in the world of San Francisco, syringes formed faces and kissed on the shit-covered asphalt. And before you knew, there was a second Pride, and rainbows formed to cover the cracks and scars of the abandoned storefronts and skyscrapers. And all was well, after all - because we couldn't control Doomsday, no matter how hard we tried.
Except for the city man. He went to sleep full knowing that he was an automaton - because he hadn't been able to buy the cake he wanted at the local grocery store, and beforehis date, he had chosen to pop his collar, just like every Chad with a full jaw and eyebrows thick enough to build a bridge linking Heaven and Hell.
This week's prompt was provided by Michelle Adams.
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