Monday, May 9, 2016

Flash Fiction - My Clone

I've been fighting with the manuscript I'm currently writing, so when I saw Operation Awesome's latest flash fiction contest, I decided writing a short piece might be good – like a palate cleanser.  And—yay!—I was picked as the winner.

So without further ado, here was my flash fiction piece (up to 250 words) based on the writing prompt "clone".

image by Neil Hester via Flickr

My Clone

You aren't supposed to move like that. Clones are supposed to sleep until revived. Not flutter their eyelashes when I stand before your pod. It's bad enough seeing my inanimate face through the milky glass. Seeing you move, seeing you twitch, is worse.

A knock. Your right pointer finger banged against the pod. I'm sure of it.

My hands shaking, I call the hotline, pressing 6 for I think my clone is waking up.

"The pod is filled with a sedative, nutrient gas that keeps the clone alive and in a coma-like state," the recording says. "Less than 0.000001% of clones awaken prematurely."

A scraaaaape fills the air behind me—I whirl around but you still—and the telephone voice rambles on. I press 7 for My clone is making noises.

"The gas filter in the pod makes a hissing sound once per hour. Beyond that, you may hear a pop when a new canister of sedative is punctured."

That wasn't a hiss or a pop. Now your hands are sliding against the glass, pressing so hard I can see your fingerprints.

You're crying. I have to help you, get you out of there. I press 4 for Emergency revival.

I fetch the transponder and—click!—the door swings wide.

"Do not attempt to revive your clone on your own. Improper revival can lead to dangerous results.

With a deep breath, you emerge from the pod. Your eyes are focused. Your stomach growls. You open your mouth.

I hope you enjoyed it!

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