Hey! It looks like you're new here. You might want to check out the introduction.
Show rules for this event
One Truck
One Key
The truck would have been considered a piece of scrap metal to anyone else.
It was rusty, a pile of iron that had been left out in the rain too many times. The motor had troubles starting, the key was rusted into the lock, and the gas pedal had had to be welded back on when it fell off that one time. But, to him, it was his shelter.
He clambered in, shutting the door with bang as he settled into the seat that had lost all of its padding long ago. He turned the key, and the motor hummed to life. He slowly put the car into reverse.
The wheels crunched as he turned them, the radio flaring with static. It jolted as he moved into drive.
The dust peeled up from the road and covered the solar panels on top of his truck as he left his small campsite.
Four Wheels
The truck broke down for the third time that week in the middle of the night.
This planet had no moon, the celestial object normal on his Earth missing in this parody of his old home. The stars, brilliant pricks of light in the black sky, were out of alignment from what he knew, recognizable constellations bent out of shape.
He didn’t normally drive during the night. He liked to watch the stars, and wonder what was happening outside the planet.
He had had to replace the electric port on the side of the car with a direct connection to the solar panels on the roof. The battery could hold for a couple of hours after dark, but he tried not to run it down to empty.
Tonight, it wasn’t the battery - instead, the car had lost a wheel.
He grumbled as he got down off of his seat, grabbing the rubber patch from the passenger’s seat. Crouching, he wiped off the problematic tire with his hand. The grime peeled off in a brown layer. A tear was cut in the mottled wheel, the air trapped inside lost. He put down the strip of rubber and grabbed the glue. Heat wafted from the chemical reaction as the rubber fused together in a jagged square.
He clambered up into the trunk and pulled out his sleeping mat. The stars twinkled.
He gazed up, and tried not to think about her.
One Sun
His eyes blinked open with the rising of the sun.
The dust fields to the east made the landscape tinted red, the iron sand reflecting the yellow light. He groaned, rolling over, his face pressing into the pillow.
When you were alone, you could afford an extra hour of light napping.
Above him, the solar panel’s lights blinked green.
Three Mirrors
On the empty roads, there was nothing to stop him from going eighty miles an hour on the mostly empty slabs of concrete. There were no animals, no other traffic, and sparse plants in the arid landscape. The yellow and white guide stripes glistened, the fresh paint the only color he could see beyond the muted browns and greens.
There was a crunch.
He sputtered, something viscous coming through the open window and striking him in the face. He stepped on the brake, swiping a hand through the air.
The truck slowed, and he peeled his eyes open, shaking his head. He looked in his side mirror. Behind him, a splash of yellow was splattered over the ground, identifying the painting robot he had run over. The side of his truck had been caught in the blast.
He grumbled, and stepped on the gas. The wind whipped through his open windows. He instinctively looked up into the rear view mirror for a periodic check. There were no cars, but behind him he could see clouds beginning their sullen approach.
He pulled up the windows and pressed the gas pedal to the floor. The terrain roared past, brown and grey and smatterings of green in a rush of color.
If he looked closely in the mirror, he could see the streak of yellow the truck left as it roared away.
The rain began to fall.
Five Seats
The cab of the truck was warm.
He sat in the back of the cab, the seats for passengers still having the foam that made it a place he was willing to sleep on. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders.
The car creaked as rain slammed into the windows, dripping down the glass in lines and curves. The bucket he had set up in the bed of the truck collected some of the falling water. Beside it, the rows of radishes he had managed to find seeds for were watered for the day.
He crunched down on another bite of the indefinitely surviving granola bars. Rumbles of thunder echoed outside.
He wished she was here - she always liked the rain.
Instead, the rain served as a reminder that he was alive.
Two Pedals
The glass dome over the next settlement let him see it from miles away on the plain. It shone under the sun, a glimmer of light shining red in the morning light despite the miles he had put between himself and the dust fields.
It was only a mile away when he started to slow, the arch of the glass curving up into the sky. He pressed down on the brake, drifting up to the gate.
An automated voice called out. “Welcome to SunDome 27. Together, we can build a brighter tomorrow. Please offer your identification.”
He came up next to the scanner, the white plastic casing covered in dust. He rifled through his pockets until he pulled out the old wallet he had stashed there. The plastic card was taken from it, and he placed it on the raised circle.
There was a ding. “Thank you, Mr. Marcus Trent. Please take your card, and continue inside.”
He did.
One Antenna
Inside the SunDome, the radio flared to life.
“-izens of SunDome 27! Thank you for tuning into WRMA this morning! Together, we can build a brighter tomorrow. The weather is supposed to be Sunny, with a small portion of rain sweeping through tomorrow. Plan on no traffic this morning, as there is almost no cars in the streets. Remember, the departure is scheduled in - Brzzzz-”
He turned it off.
Four Doors
He parked in the middle of the road, two wheels on either side of the pristine yellow line. He grabbed a bag from the passenger seat. The door opened, and he stepped out onto the street.
Solar panels arrayed in the street next to the houses, grass lining the streets in slashes of green.
Near him, a robot buzzed by.
He glanced over at the robot, the police colors and flashing light on its forehead marking it as a facilitator of the law. He watched it projected a ray, scanning the car. It let out a sad boop sound. Then, there was the sound of a receipt printing, and a ticket was ripped off and placed politely underneath the floppy windshield wiper.
The robot turned, looking about. It spotted him, and rolled over. “Hello, citizen.”
He nodded.
The robot tilted its head. “Do you need any information?”
He shook his head.
“Please, do not hesitate to ask. Together, we can build a better tomorrow.” It straightened itself, and turned, rolling away. It continued its mindless patrol, turning the next corner.
He stared after it for a moment, then walked in the opposite direction.
Two Hands
He pulled the door open, the musty smell of age bursting out of the confined space. The bell perched on the corner jingled.
As he walked inside, there was a small buzz, and an electronic voice echoed from the speakers above him. “Hello, citizen. Remember to bring all purchases to the front of the store.”
He clambered through the shelves, grabbing anything that looked useful. Another pile of granola bars was stuffed into the bag. He sniffed at a shelf of chocolate bars before grabbing one and stuffing it in. Last, a batch of pens was swept inside.
Almost everything else had gone bad. He glanced around, and hitched the bag up on his shoulder.
He walked over to the counter and rapped on it. There was a creak, and a robot tilted upwards. “Hello. Do you have a purchase to make?”
He placed the bag on the counter. There was a pause as it scanned the bag. “Your total is a hundred and seventeen dollars, twenty three cents.”
He reached in his pocket and pulled out two of the hundreds he kept there. He placed it on the counter and grabbed his bag.
The voice spoke up. “Thank you for your purchase. Together, we can build a brighter tomorrow.”
He heard the robot open the cash register, but left before he had heard it close.
One Tailgate
It was dark by the time he found the gardening center.
The greenhouse was covered in plants, growing mostly wild in the absence of people. The robots had never truly learned gardening, even if they did learn how to weed and water and give healthy soil to the plants.
Arches of green arced wound around the white columns, digging their way into the building. One of the glass panels had fallen down, shards scattered over the concrete floor.
He grabbed a big bag of soil, throwing it over his shoulder. He carried it ouside, then pulled it up onto the truck bed. He placed it next to the pile of radishes he was growing.
He enjoyed the earthy smell as he spread it over his box garden. His hands sunk into the dirt, tilling around the plants. He left them there, eyes closed.
She was always a better gardener than him.
He reached over, and slammed the tailgate shut.
Two Visors
He had grabbed the ticket when he got back to the truck - or, the three tickets that had accumulated from the robot coming by. He tucked two of them under the sun visor and flipped the other one over, the blank space on the back offering him the only paper for miles. He laid it on the dash and grabbed a pen.
He began to scrawl a drawing.
Her face always was beautiful.
Eight Cupholders
“Thank you for staying at SunDome 27, Mr. Marcus Trent,” the automated voice buzzed as he left the glass housing. “Together, we can build a brighter tomorrow.”
He snatched his identification back from the plate, and stuffed it into the cupholder next to him.
The motor hummed as he pulled away, the sun just barely touching the horizon. As he drove, he noticed that the sunlight this morning was yellow, the arc of the sun missing the dust plains.
Maybe this tomorrow would be brighter.
Two Headlights
Before the night, he could see a large dome on the horizon.
It was a large structure - the one he had left had already passed beyond the point of vision, and the one ahead he was sure was farther away.
He wished he had a map.
He pulled the truck to a stop next to a mile marker, a 350 shining in the headlights. He glanced up at the far dome.
He wondered what she would say.
“Marcus, you’re imagining things again!”
Yeah, that was about right.
One Bumper
The SunDome was large.
He gazed up at the glass monolith as he drove up to the gate, a sense of immensity that left him crouching down slightly.
He came up to the gate and rolled down his window.
“Welcome to SunDome 1. Together, we can build a brighter tomorrow. Please offer your identification.”
He placed his id on the plate, then took it back. It gave a beeping sound. ““Thank you, Mr. Marcus Trent. Please be advised that the evacuation is currently in progress. Please proceed to the nearest shuttle after you take your card and continue inside.”
The door stayed closed.
He waited for a moment, then drove forwards, and his bumper pushed the door open.
Two Feet
He sat on the edge of the truck.
A police robot had already ticketed him and asked its prerequisite questions, to which he had sat there, looking about. He never thought that he would actually make it here.
SunDome 1 was supposed to be an eventuality, not a reality.
He bit off another bit of the radish he was holding in his hand. The spicy flavor permeated his mouth. His feet kicked out and fell back.
There was a pause, and then he got down.
He had somewhere to be.
One Mouth
He walked into the house with some trepidation.
The stale air hit him as he walked inside. He paused as he turned, looked around at the books and other knick knacks around the room. A plant, still alive but overgrown, was in the corner.
There was a pause, and then a voice spoke. “Hello, Marcus.”
He froze, then turned to look at the robot behind him.
“You have come back.” The robot flickered one of its eyes. “You have been gone for a long time.”
He nodded slowly.
There was something… more…
He opened his mouth.
“Wire?”
The robot nodded. “Yes.”
There was a pause as he tried to find his voice. “Why…” He swallowed, unused vocal cords straining. “Why are you here?”
“Why would I not be? I am here for the house.” The robot glanced up and down at him. “Neither you nor the mistress have been here in some time.”
He paused, glancing down. “No.”
The robot turned, and began to dust a vase. “It is my duty to keep this place clean.”
He simply stood there, watching. The robot finished, and moved onto another piece of memorabilia.
It was just so…
...normal.
He sat down on the chair.
The musty smell of disuse continued to tickle his nose.
“How…” He paused. “How can you just go on?”
The robot kept dusting. “It’s what I do.”
“But you- you knew her!” He leaned forwards. One of his hands closed in a fist. “You can’t tell me you- she meant nothing!”
“I am a robot, Marcus.” The robot put down its duster. “Not a human.”
He glared, fists clenched.
“Julia was-”
He leapt up. “Don’t say that-”
“Julia-”
He screamed. One of his fists caught the robot in the facial region. It started to spark. “How could you not care?” He punched again. “How is she gone, and you’re still here?” He punched again. “Why isn’t she- why can’t I-” He slowed down.
His fists were bloody. He didn’t notice.
He fell to the floor, bloody stains over the carpet. “Why did she have to-” His voice caught. “Why did she have to die?”
He simply sat there, chest heaving.
“Julia loved you.” The voice was quiet, undertoned with the fizz of a broken wire.
He looked up at the robot silently.
“She was always happier with you around. I could tell, even if I am a robot.” The robot lifted its head slightly. “I know that. You know that.”
He ducked his head again. “But she-” He choked. “She wasn’t ever able to leave. To go back home.”
The robot simply stared at him.
“I loved her so much, I stayed here.” He sniffed. “I stayed to be where she was.”
“Would she have wanted you to stay?”
He put his head in his hands. “I don’t know. It didn’t matter.”
There was a pause. A spark flicked off the broken metal.
“She was always so… beautiful. And there. And… I lost her, and nothing really mattered anymore.”
“You loved her.”
“Yeah.” He kept his head down. “I’ve been pretending. Thinking everything’s okay. That I have a home. But I don’t, not really.”
There was another pause.
“It’s just an old, broken truck.” He let out a sigh. “She wasn’t there. And she won’t be there. I don’t think it’ll ever be the same.”
“What do you think she would want you to do?” The robot twitched one of its limbs.
“I think…”
He stared down at the robot for a moment. It sat there, a pile of parts, still talking to him like he wasn’t completely insane. He could see himself, a reflection in the mirrors that made up the eyes.
He looked tired.
Marcus looked up.
“I think Julia would want me to go home.”
I like the worldbuilding throughout the first 2/3 of the story. It starts gradually and progresses at a comfortably slow pace. Some of it didn’t feel particularly new to me (Wall-e came to mind several times) but it was interesting and engaging to soak in the details of the world piece by piece. I think the conflict throughout this part was a bit weak, kind of being propped up by the small stuff like running over that painting robot, because he seems to have a goal in mind but it seems like he’s going about his daily life for the first 2/3.
Intentionally being vague about things like “her” is a little frustrating to me but more of a pet peeve than anything else. I feel like it’s there to serve as motivation, but it feels too vague and general. I think it’s okay for her to like gardening and rain, but I would’ve liked some more detail there. Otherwise, it feels a bit generic, because many people like rain and gardening.
I feel like the ending is mismatched to the rest of the story. It didn’t build up to the ending as a whole: only with the “her” part, really, but that was a small part of the story. The rest of the story made me think it was just an ordinary day, but apparently he hasn’t been to the house in years. I don’t know why today, of all days, he went back to his old house. The only answer I could find was [He had somewhere to be.], which leads in to that final scene, and I can’t remember seeing anything else. It felt like a forced way to get the narrator to talk about his wife.
Nitpick while I’m thinking of it: another pet peeve is when writers (over)use [There was a pause.], and I’m only mentioning it because it was done several times in this story. You can show there’s a pause by doing other things: for example, by replacing that line with a line of brief or simple narration. Or, starting a new paragraph, doing one or two simple lines of narration, and then doing another paragraph break: i.e., using more words or white space to show a pause instead of telling the reader there was a pause.
Intentionally being vague about things like “her” is a little frustrating to me but more of a pet peeve than anything else. I feel like it’s there to serve as motivation, but it feels too vague and general. I think it’s okay for her to like gardening and rain, but I would’ve liked some more detail there. Otherwise, it feels a bit generic, because many people like rain and gardening.
I feel like the ending is mismatched to the rest of the story. It didn’t build up to the ending as a whole: only with the “her” part, really, but that was a small part of the story. The rest of the story made me think it was just an ordinary day, but apparently he hasn’t been to the house in years. I don’t know why today, of all days, he went back to his old house. The only answer I could find was [He had somewhere to be.], which leads in to that final scene, and I can’t remember seeing anything else. It felt like a forced way to get the narrator to talk about his wife.
Nitpick while I’m thinking of it: another pet peeve is when writers (over)use [There was a pause.], and I’m only mentioning it because it was done several times in this story. You can show there’s a pause by doing other things: for example, by replacing that line with a line of brief or simple narration. Or, starting a new paragraph, doing one or two simple lines of narration, and then doing another paragraph break: i.e., using more words or white space to show a pause instead of telling the reader there was a pause.
I appreciate the stylistically minimalist scene structure combined with quick, brief scene cuts in order to briskly pace the narrative while keeping things just vague enough to warrant further interest. It is certainly an interesting way to present a story, and sans some repetition of certain effects throughout the narrative, the story itself kept me engage. Unfortunately, I think this story's strength in its narration came back around and became a weakness when it came time for the story to resolve.
The ending scene takes the style of the rest of the narrative, but is unable to transform it into from what it is ultimately a rather maudlin scene into something more substantial. The subtlety and implied depth of the story largely fail to pay off in what I would consider to be a largely "Hollywood" esque ending, and the style of the story as a whole seems to clash with the ending content as a whole. This story has a very removed, almost clinical narration style and tone that does not befit this sort of unabashed display of emotion. Perhaps dialing back the scene, leaving it more to small character interactions and implications, which would leave the reasoning behind the main character's angst in the dark until the last couple lines, would be more fitting. Just some light tinkering with the scene to omit some rather ham-fisted phrases and dialogue from the narration would be enough to elevate this scene (ex. "It was... just so normal... or the dialogue about being a robot and seeing love).
I thought a lot of Avatar the Last Airbender's "Tales of Bah Sing Sae" episode when considering this story, and that's a good thing to be compared to, but I feel the emotional heart of your story needs to be more developed for the ending reveal.
Verdict: interesting style, content decent, tone and resolution a bit too inconsistent for my take.
The ending scene takes the style of the rest of the narrative, but is unable to transform it into from what it is ultimately a rather maudlin scene into something more substantial. The subtlety and implied depth of the story largely fail to pay off in what I would consider to be a largely "Hollywood" esque ending, and the style of the story as a whole seems to clash with the ending content as a whole. This story has a very removed, almost clinical narration style and tone that does not befit this sort of unabashed display of emotion. Perhaps dialing back the scene, leaving it more to small character interactions and implications, which would leave the reasoning behind the main character's angst in the dark until the last couple lines, would be more fitting. Just some light tinkering with the scene to omit some rather ham-fisted phrases and dialogue from the narration would be enough to elevate this scene (ex. "It was... just so normal... or the dialogue about being a robot and seeing love).
I thought a lot of Avatar the Last Airbender's "Tales of Bah Sing Sae" episode when considering this story, and that's a good thing to be compared to, but I feel the emotional heart of your story needs to be more developed for the ending reveal.
Verdict: interesting style, content decent, tone and resolution a bit too inconsistent for my take.
Intro left me a bit cold; I frowned when his motor 'hummed', and was a bit nonplussed at the solar panels before I caught what was going on. I have a very solid image of what that sort of truck should look like, in my head, and his wasn't fitting it at all, which was a bit jarring.
I laughed when he ran over the painting 'bot. :)
Got a bit of mood whiplash at the end there. I think it was the fact that not too long ago he'd ended on the 'maybe today would be brighter', and how he just kinda snapped at the robot with no real reason to? It was alright as a climax for the story, but doesn't really make sense to me from a character standpoint.
The world-building here was interesting, but also left me with rather more questions than answers. I mean, what is 'home'? Is going there even an option for him? What does going there entail, and what does that mean to him?
Well-written, but not as satisfying as I'd like.
I laughed when he ran over the painting 'bot. :)
Got a bit of mood whiplash at the end there. I think it was the fact that not too long ago he'd ended on the 'maybe today would be brighter', and how he just kinda snapped at the robot with no real reason to? It was alright as a climax for the story, but doesn't really make sense to me from a character standpoint.
The world-building here was interesting, but also left me with rather more questions than answers. I mean, what is 'home'? Is going there even an option for him? What does going there entail, and what does that mean to him?
Well-written, but not as satisfying as I'd like.
