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Mixtape Ghost NDr. Jiang-Ping watched as Cody sat in his chair in the cubicle, and turned to confirm that Gershwin was seated as well. The two were ready to take on their task, and she spoke aloud so that both may hear her.
‘Please tell us a short story. Use the keywords provided on the TV screen there. Subject 30, your keywords will be played by audio. The length of the story is up to you, but you must finish by 10 minutes. As soon as I slide Subject 30’s door close, you two may begin.’
She turned and reached for the glass door, sliding it close. A rush of air escaped and the glass cubicle was sealed shut. It was soundproof, so no one from the outside could hear him. A red light on the camera shone, indicating it was now recording.
In the cubicle via audio, and through the TV in the conference room, came the words:
Many questions could be asked as to what they expected, but the look on Dr. Jiang-Ping’s face answered only one: no talking, and no asking.
***
Those were strange words to write a story with. Anything with a dilemma was going to be terrible, or at least difficult. Though it wouldn’t be difficult to write around the dilemma to make a happy ending, Gershwin still needed to talk about it and get around it. Writer’s block didn’t help, and the pressure with the time counting down was terrible – a Subject’s inspiration, creativity – and hope, presumably – did not last here. But try she did, and she looked to Cody, who was doing his own work with the camera. Though she could not reach out to him, it was enough for her when she for the briefest of moments admired how attractive he was to have the story needed.
‘Please tell us a short story. Use the keywords provided on the TV screen there. Subject 30, your keywords will be played by audio. The length of the story is up to you, but you must finish by 10 minutes. As soon as I slide Subject 30’s door close, you two may begin.’
She turned and reached for the glass door, sliding it close. A rush of air escaped and the glass cubicle was sealed shut. It was soundproof, so no one from the outside could hear him. A red light on the camera shone, indicating it was now recording.
In the cubicle via audio, and through the TV in the conference room, came the words:
“Dog, Crawling, Dilemma, Branch, Toy.”
Many questions could be asked as to what they expected, but the look on Dr. Jiang-Ping’s face answered only one: no talking, and no asking.
***
Those were strange words to write a story with. Anything with a dilemma was going to be terrible, or at least difficult. Though it wouldn’t be difficult to write around the dilemma to make a happy ending, Gershwin still needed to talk about it and get around it. Writer’s block didn’t help, and the pressure with the time counting down was terrible – a Subject’s inspiration, creativity – and hope, presumably – did not last here. But try she did, and she looked to Cody, who was doing his own work with the camera. Though she could not reach out to him, it was enough for her when she for the briefest of moments admired how attractive he was to have the story needed.
“A dog once strolled alongside a river. It liked to spend time alone, not wanting to have to depend on the availability – to interpret it negatively, the fleetingness of their time. So, while he did occasionally play with the other dogs, it was introverted and the others did not know him very well.
During his stroll, he stumbled upon a branch of a sizeable length. It was lodged into place in the crevices of the rocks just at the shoreline, holding and fighting back against the mild-looking but ultimately dangerous flowing river. The dog hazarded that pulling it out would not be so difficult so he attempted it. In the meantime, a lovely bird was spectating the scene.
‘Don’t do it,’ the bird spoke, ‘it’s dangerous.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ the dog replied, ‘I can handle it.’
‘Why do you need the stick anyway?’
‘To use it as a toy, to play.’
‘With yourself? You’re going to throw and retrieve the stick yourself?’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘Doesn’t that seem odd to you?’
‘I don’t need your advice on how to play. This is fun – I’ll have fun.’
The dog clamped its teeth into the branch like a vice on a metal rod. Try as he did, the branch refused to be uprooted from the rock bed.
‘Surely, there are other dogs to play with – other means to play other than by yourself.’
‘Just leave me alone.’
‘Why won’t you play with them?’
‘Because they don’t like me.’
‘They do like you; you’re just not giving them a chance.’
‘No, they think I’m weird and I can’t do anything as well as they can.’
‘That’s what you think.’
‘That’s what they all think!’
As the dog grunted out his anger, he pulled out the branch halfway, but in the momentum the soil was loosened, and the dog slipped into the raging river. The water was cold and shock overtook his body, but he kept his bite and hung on. His life depended on the branch he tried to uproot. The bird then flew down and landed just before the branch, clasping her wings close.
‘The branch is too big: you have to let go for me to help you.’
‘I’ve got it, let me alone,’ the dog spoke through his teeth. His eyes bulged as the branch loosened slightly more, and the dog swung violently, his body in the whims of the terrible waves.
‘Why must you be so stubborn and closed?’
‘Because nobody likes me! I can take care of myself! No one likes me!’
‘… Let me like you,’ the bird whispering, which the dog almost did not pick up. The dog, choosing in his potentially last moments of his life to trust this bird, released his bite and he submerged into the water. However, the bird’s feet grabbed for the dog’s legs, and she flew him out of the cold waters and brought him to the beach side, the dog crawling as he shuddered from the cold. The branch broke free, and was washed away.
‘It was not much of a dilemma, but I had to make you think,’ the bird spoke softly, but hard, authoritative but caring, like a genuine friend.
‘I’m sorry,’ the dog spoke, defeated in shame of his own arrogance.
‘Don’t be. You don’t learn these kind of lessons without others to watch over you.’
‘Who are you? Why help me?’
‘Even if no one is there for you, any and at all times, know that there is always someone that cares,’ and the bird flew away before the dog could reply.