November Writing Challenge Week 1, Fiction Fragments

Fiction of the outside world. Reactor: Rapport: Friendship, Solidarity, Communion, Empathy, by Wells. July 10, 2025. No spoilers in the story but the backstory would make more sense if you have read the Murderbot series.

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1 Day One, 207 words reported, adjusted

She floated thru the airlock into the main body of the rocket. Not a lot of space was wasted on these long haul vehicles. No fancy waiting rooms for the tourists. No helpful attendant waiting~ to help disoriented travels. If you were on one of these ships you were expected to know how to handle yourself in micro gravity, and expect to get right to work.

That was fine with her. She deliberately signed up for commercial freight trips to avoid dealing with the public. Technology may change; people didn’t. To quote a classic movie, “A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky dangerous animals.”

She was also fine with getting right to work. Not only was it her job, it was her life. Errors in spaceflight could kill everyone on board. Checking and double checking was a matter of habit. They checked each other’s work as a matter of course. There was no place for egos. Well, not there. Catch one mistake and suddenly double checks became your new favorite thing.

Much like air pilots of old, the people making the decisions were the ones who had to live the decision

So she floated through calmly. Time to go. Time to get to work.

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2 Sunday Dinner, 203 words

Sunday dinners were always boring.

Food dropped on Mondays. Therefore, Sunday was all about eating whatever was leftover from the rest of the week. She tried to spread the boring bits out but invariable was left with crackers or oatmeal or some other bland carbs by Sunday night. There were always enough calories but sometimes Sunday was simply feeding the machine.

Breakfasts & lunch were always the same. A combination of proteins and vitamins in bar form. She thought of it as People Chow. Dinner was where she had some variety and some actual food.

Monday dinner was all about perishables. Fruits. Soup. Whatever wouldn’t last. That didn’t always mean a feast. There are only so many bananas one can confront with equanimity.

Tuesday thru Thursday were about the same. She would dole out the food in even batches for the week. She usually saved something to celebrate with on Friday night, and maybe Saturday dinner, if there was enough to chose from. Days has no meaning – other than Monday – but old habits died hard. Party a bit on what used to be the weekend.

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Desert island? Prisoner? Voluntary human exhibit in a zoo? Reality TV? I have no idea.

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3 Autumn Glow, 262 reported

Autumn Glow!

What kind of name is Autumn Glow?

How in the world does one craft an ice cream flavor that could suitably be called Autumn Glow?

Alas, such was her task.

Chocolate and orange? That might not be bad if she went for a chocolate covered orange peel. The citrus bite to offset the sweetness of the chocolate. Maybe with sugar crystals for crunch. The taste had promise.

But the colors.

The colors would never fly. The ice cream would look fine when frozen. All swirly and autumnal. As soon as it started melting? You were looking at a gooey beige pool of baby spit. It would be even worse if she added cherry for red streaks of leaves. Then the melted version would look like it came out of the other end of, a very sick baby.

Wasn’t that a lovely thought when considering food items.

All her professional life revolved around extravagantly flowered ice creams, she mostly ate vanilla. When trying a new brand, she wanted to taste the underlying ice cream. No one knew better than she what could be hidden by funky flavors.

On the rare occasions when she had ice cream for pleaseure, she had Baskin-Robbins® Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream. There were better mint ice creams. There were better chocolates. There were more boutique ice cream maker. To her the architypical ice cream was Mint Chocolate Chip in a pointy cone.

Which just goes to show that taste is an elusive beastie.

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BR: The Story Behind Baskin-Robbins’ Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream

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4 Harvest Moon, 221 words

Is your last name is Moon, why in the name of all that is sane and sacred would you name your child Harvest? Her parents said it was to given her a connection to the earth. Rose would have done. Or Daisy. Even Pansy. They also said they didn’t want to have a name with any inherent gender expectation. Chris did not occur to them?

Her school mates had a field day with it, of course. What was surprising was how badly her teachers handled it. One year, she was sent to the principals office. The principal did not believe her and an threatened to call her parents. ‘Oh please,” she thought, ‘Bring my parents in. Can I be here to watch when my mother tells the story of my conception? If your lucky, Dad will bring his drum.’ Harvest loved her parents, but they could be a lot for a muggle.

Now that she was an adult, she thought about legally changing it. But her mother really loved the name. The only time she could bear the song, Shine On, Harvest Moon was when her mother sang it. Plus, she had grow used to it. To her, the name Harvest was simply two syllables that meant ‘Hey you.”

For new situations, she made a point of bringing her birth certificate.

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5 Blind Date, 208 words

“A duck blind?! You went on a date in a duck blind?”

“It was fun. We both brought our long lens and took pictures of ducks. I’m using one of the photos as my screensaver.

“But what did you talk about.”

“Actually, we didn’t talk at all. Or not much. The point is to be quiet to not scare off the ducks.”

“I would hate that.”

Laughs, “Yeah, you’d never survive that much silence.”

“I suppose you had some weird, post-modern, phone prohibition as well?

“Well, he shut off his phone. I had to keep mine on for work. I also used it to log into the Cornell site to identify birds. Otherwise, yeah, we stayed offline.”

“You had fun?”

“Yes, we did. Don’t sound so dubious. It was kind of inmate. Since we didn’t want to make any noise, you had to tap the other person to get their attention. Lots of physical contact. It was nice. Also lots of eye contact and smiling at each other.”

“Only you would have a date in a duck blind.”

“Hey, I learn something new. This is how you say ‘duck’ in sign language. (makes gesture.) This is bird. (makes different gesture.)”

“They look similar.”

“Well, they are related words.”

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6 Sick Day, 232 words

“That’s a sick day. Really gnarly, dude.”

The other person seated at the table began to laugh helplessly. “Gnarly?”

‘What, too Gen Alpha?”

“Gen Alpha? Gen X if you’re lucky. My friend, you are officially an old fart. Even your slang is old.”

“What should I have said instead? Thank you for preparing my agenda. I find the proposed schedule to be an acceptable use of my time.” Would that be better?”

“Well, at least it would sound like you.”

She tossed the sheaf of stapled papers, which utterly failed to fly straight, and landed in in the middle of the table. They both regarded the tangled heap of papers that lay on the wooden surface like a misplaced moth.

“I see we are demonstrating the couth and tact for which you are so rightly famous.”

So she stuck out her tongue.

“Okay, okay. Don’t raise your eyebrows at me. It’s a good plan. We’ve got all the bases covered. I’m meeting with all the right people. It’s just … it’s …”

“It’s a lot?”

“Yeah, it’s a lot. I’m going to have to stay calm and focused while different batches of people yell at me. Not to mention constant media coverage. I mean, I’m happy we are getting the attention to the issue. But it’s tough being the face of an entire movement.”

“You may have said it best. Gnarly, dude.”

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7 Press Release, 237 words

“Press release to empty the hopper onto the tray. Then you check for anomalies.”

“What the weirdest thing you’ve found coming through here?”

“The usual. Coins. Keys. Rings. Pocket stuff. Nothing truly weird. It wouldn’t fit. Be too big I guess a diamond engagement ring would be the most striking.”

“Did you ever find out who it belonged to?”

“Funny you should ask. A guy who used to work here claimed he could finds the owners of things. Found a woman who can in to claim the ring.”

“Do you think it was hers?”

“Meh, I don’t know. Could have been a scam. He could have given the description to an accomplice and split the profit. But that would have been a lot of work for not that much money. Those things may cost the earth, but they don’t pawn for all that much. She seemed happy enough to have it back. Anyway, go ahead and give it a try.”

Clunk.

“Do they ever think of automating this?”

“What you want to be out of a job on your first day?”

“I’ve never does this kind of work. I wonder what gets automated and what doesn’t.”

“First off, the volume would have to be a lot higher to be worth the investment in the machinery. Even so, I doubt a robot could do it. Wouldn’t pass the dishwasher test. Nothing beat the human brain for generalized aptitude.”

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Afterword

The See Jane Write November Writing Challenge, Steady Scribbler: 200 words/day, SJW: 30 Writing Prompts for November.

Word count is not my problem. I have written cover letters longer than the article I am submitting. Writing regularly is not my problem. Gestures to blog. Fiction, however, has been slower going. So, my 200 words have been/will be fiction. I deliberately chose a low bar to jump over. Surely, I can crank out 200 words?

Yes, I can. But don’t call me Shirley.

Anyway.

I was going to tidy them up. You know brush their hair, check that their shoe laces aren’t untied. But it’s Friday night and I just finished #7, so I’m flinging these at you as they came out of the keyboard. Day one had minor adjustments, mostly around adding the MiB quote.

Onwards!
Katherine