Just something I’ve been tinkering with the last couple of days.  It’s from an untitled story that I only know a few fragments about so far.  I really like the idea of a psychic that gets addicted to soap operas for some reason.  A world where a number of teenagers and kids in persistent vegetative states react to a new medication that not only awakens them, but leaves their bodies fundamentally changed with new abilities and gifts.

Or something like that. 🙂


“That’s my best friend,” Cody looked towards me, then nodded across the street at a girl about our age, strolling out of a clothing store.  Cody’s bangs swept into her face, the hairspray of hours ago having long since fled the premises.

            I pulled my baseball cap down over my eyes.  “No she’s not.  Jez is friends with my sister.”

            Cody’s earnest eyes met mine, even shaded as they were.  “Of course she isn’t now. But if I went and talked to her, we would be.  Eventually.”

            “So why don’t you?”  Cody’s visions of the future freaked me out, to be completely honest.  We had an unspoken rule. 

            She shrugged.  “It all turns to heartbreak in the end,” she sighed with melodrama.  Since our Awakening, Cody had fallen in love with soap operas.  I think she felt some sympathy for them.  People on the television, tossed and tumbled around with one upheaval after another.  They never saw it coming, even if the viewers all did.

            “What, she falls in love with you?”  I rolled my eyes.  “Or maybe her evil twin comes to town?”

            “Nothing like that,” Cody murmured.  She stepped in front of me, off the curb and into the street.  “She’d fall in love with him.  And they’d leave.  I’d be all alone.”  Cody’s faith in True Love was almost as strange as her obsession with daytime television.

            “You’d still have me,” I argued.  I followed her off the sidewalk and into the paved road. 

            Cody kept silent a moment too long, before she brightly announced “Pothole!” as my foot sunk into the morning’s rainwater.  Three inches of it.  A gap in the blacktop that must have broken open sometime in the winter.

            “Could have warned me sooner.”  I shook my foot, the squelching sound deafening to my ears.

            We kept walking, accompanied by the squelching of my right sneaker.

            “You’re a good friend, Jake.”

            The solemn tone to her voice stuck with me all the way to Group.



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