Day 3 AND Overall Winner of Quarto’s 2021 Thunderdome Flash Fiction Contest. View the Day 3 prompt here.
It under up over went. We all in breaking broke brown. You stinging stung. When man unmans you oh man I am — I am you said in symbols like stinging sign flash. I yellow. You streak. I screen oh hell oh me.
It’s not making any sense you said.
I no it’s not I beep back.
No? you said eyes liquid.
Yes, I button. Red button. Press and: mean.
I press: I am try, ink.
You say ? I say I am try, inc.
You say ? I say I am talk— always break here. Always no word no where.
And fog here always. Getting fog here and fog here.
Sun breaks you up again. When you come back I from twenty age. You shape by sky and of slice. I shape by press, touch, in, and— out.
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Years past we slowly learn to speak again it comes back syntactically synthetic and my tongue never moves when the buttons rearrange and the wires jerk. They say there’s a name for this condition but they are dead so who cares what they say. When I’m less than the sole survivor I have no urge to say it who or what I am but read sometimes scraps from the paper and point at words and say I used to know how to mean. And it’s all shapes and that’s what we are too. Especially you.
Will you forgive me for not making sense like I forgive you for not saving me.