Short fiction from a recent writing project. This is part 5. See previous posts for parts 1-4. Feature image from Pixabay.
Whenever Arthur was in his alcove, people would pause outside to look at him through his transparent wall. Usually, they just stared for a moment and then moved on. But when Arthur retired to his room after smoking his first 23rd Century cigar, a man got right up close to the wall and began waving. Arthur recognized the man as Spots, an anthropologist he'd been introduced to shortly after his reanimation.
Arthur opened the door. "You want to come in?" he asked. "I have coffee."
"Thank you, yes," said Spots, following Arthur into the alcove and taking a chair at the table. "I'll try the coffee if you're having some."
"I'm having some," said Arthur, pouring two cups. "But you know that. You saw me making it. Something you want to talk about?"
"Yes, well, I was hoping we could talk about the meaning of life," said Spots.
"The meaning of life?" asked Arthur dubiously.
"I understand that you're not religious," said Spots. "Which is hardly surprising, given your era of origin."
"Okay?" said Arthur.
"I'll get right to it," said Spots. "When you smoked that cigar on the commons earlier, did it have special spiritual significance for you?"
"Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar," said Arthur, chuckling.
"What I mean is, do you use the smoke to connect with any particular part of yourself?" asked Spots. "Or with unseen forces, perhaps?"
Having never considered this idea, Arthur sipped his coffee. "In a way, the smoke externalizes internal processes," he said. "It helps with thinking. And maybe with feeling connected in this world where everything I once knew is just gone."
"Did you smoke cigars in your era?" asked Spots. "Were they part of your peer group's regular rituals?"
"My peer group?" laughed Arthur. "No, in my time I smoked cigarettes and my peers shunned me for it. Some of them smoked tobacco in secret, bumming smokes off of me when no one was looking. Everyone smoked cannabis openly though, even if it was technically illegal where I lived."
"Interesting," said Spots. "Do you ever pray?"
"Not really," said Arthur. "I mean, when I saw that truck about to hit me on my bike, I might've prayed. But that accident's still pretty much a blur."
"So never with other people?" asked Spots. "Fascinating. How did you manage hardship?"
"You're going to have to be more specific," said Arthur. "In my time, most real hardship was just a lack of money. So I learned skills that earned me money. Sure, I had some problems that money couldn't solve, but so did everybody."
"What sorts of problems, and how did you manage them?" asked Spots.
"My time was a lonely place for a person like me," said Arthur. "Things were all messed up, but it was against the rules to say anything about it except in very narrow, politically correct terms. Sometimes, when I just needed to talk, to blow off steam or whatever, I'd go to a bar, find someone who was blackout drunk, and tell them everything, knowing they'd never remember it."
"And was that something other people did as well?" asked Spots.
"Not really," said Arthur. "Most people had therapists. I had a therapist, but there were things I never talked about with him. Things he'd never understand."
"What kinds of things?" asked Spots.
"You really want to get into it?" asked Arthur. "Right here, with that family looking through the glass at us?"
"Your thoughts are of immense interest," said Spots. "What wouldn't you talk about with your therapist?"
"My work addiction," said Arthur eventually. "Once upon a time it was alcohol, but then I quit drinking and it became work."
"I don't quite follow," said Spots.
"Whenever I felt bad, I worked," said Arthur. "There was even a moment when my mood started shifting, like maybe a breakthrough was coming. What did I do? I got a new job and worked even harder."
"Interesting," said Spots. "People of your era praised hard work. But you're saying you used the work as an excuse to avoid other important matters?"
"In hindsight, that's how it looks," said Arthur. "The thing is, I haven't felt the need to do that since waking up here. Maybe my compulsion to work was a product of the times. Guess that would make sense."
"Have you noticed anything else that you could say the same about?" asked Spots.
"Good question," said Arthur. "Not that I've noticed."
"Would you say that your former compulsion to work was an expression of your survival instinct?" asked Spots.
"Could've been," said Arthur. "I was in a world where work equaled money equaled survival. So that was the equation."
"Did you think about money often?" asked Spots.
"All the time, right up until I started working at Tempo," said Arthur. "But before then? I was struggling and miserly. The worst was when I started trading stocks on a phone app and lost six hundred dollars. I spent months beating myself up over it."
The comment unsettled Spots. "Beating up ... physically?" he asked.
"Figuratively," said Arthur. "I was hard on myself in my mind."
"Oh," said Spots, relieved. "And would you say your idea of the meaning of life has changed since you woke up in this era?"
"My friends and family mourned my passing hundreds of years ago," said Arthur. "My entire life? Gone. No impact on the world. I don't know if that makes things more or less meaningful. I don't even know how I feel about any of this."
Read my novels:
- One Man Embassy is available in print via Blurb and for Kindle on Amazon.
- Flying Saucer Shenanigans is available in print via Blurb and for Kindle on Amazon.
- Rainbow Lullaby is available in print via Blurb and for Kindle on Amazon.
- The Ostermann Method is available in print via Blurb and for Kindle on Amazon.
- Blue Dragon Mississippi is available in print via Blurb and for Kindle on Amazon.
Check out the comic I wrote:
- Finney Vol 1 Immutable Journey is available as a free e-comic.