Friday 4 January 2019

Fiction Friday (3) - One Last Meal

One Last Meal

by Olivia Hofer

Note: A small piece. An idea I've been meaning to explore but haven't yet.

I stare at the display before me and rub my hands on my orange trousers. Dark patches stain them along the seam. My heartbeat echoes in my ears. I swallow a painful lump.

I’d woken up for the last time.

I’d gone to bed for the last time.

How much had I already done for the last time without noticing? They really ought to warn you about this sort of thing.

“Make your choice, inmate.” The guard scowls at me.

Back when times were simpler, we’d be able to request one last meal. Bacon, eggs, maybe some pulled pork, or a steak topped with garlic butter. Those times are in the past, though.

We still get one last meal, of course, but it’s a virtual one—our physical bodies cross into the afterlife with grumbling, empty stomachs. Much cheaper for the government, and, they'd concluded, not a violation of human rights because we aren’t actually aware of it.

Our minds are plugged into the perfect last day. We get to choose a time, a place, and who we wish to take along.

One last day filled with wonder and joy before it’s all over.

Death is painless. No syringe, no deadly cocktail, no electric shocks. We are simply terminated while our minds are distracted, having a good time. Definitely preferable to facing the mother of the man I killed while I die.

Would it make her feel better to watch me squirm in a chair? Would seeing the terror and regret in my eyes soothe her pain? I doubt it.

I shift, scroll, squint.

What do I want to do with my final hours? Be an astronaut and fly a spaceship? Ride a unicorn? Join a band of dwarves and slay a dragon?

I trace the covers of the virtual realities available to my prison. They own a surprisingly varied selection. I could climb Mount Everest or dive to the bottom of the ocean. I could visit Paris or Hong Kong.

I could do so much more than my old life ever offered.

The guard smacks the back of my head, and I flinch. “I’m not missing my coffee break for you, asshole.”

I keep it simple and tap the screen, selecting a restaurant with a cow logo before picking my family as companions.

One last meal in the company of my loved ones. Steak topped with garlic butter.

Slaying dragons will have to wait for another life.

9 comments:

  1. Really enjoyed this, Olivia! I find myself intrigued by the inmate, by who (s)he is being put to death, how far in the future this is set, and who the “she” is that is mentioned (the guard) or someone much closer to the inmate? I look forward to whatever you share next!

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  2. Wow, a lot of emotion packed into this. I felt for the inmate even though they're a killer, and felt bad at the guard's behavior. Even with termination being painless, the guard is still rushing the inmate and making her final selection stressful. There's a sense that you can't catch a break sometimes, even at the end. Poignant choice at the end too. Nicely done.

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    1. Thank you, Greg. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

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  3. Replies
    1. I feel like this is what I want as a writer, but also: I'm sorry!

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  4. Oh Olivia! This is so beautifully written. Short but it's made me choke up! I'm so intrigued as to who the inmate is and who the "her" is. You write beautifully hun! *heart eyes*

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  5. Wow this is so powerful. So poignant - the feeling is tangible, and you've really shown all of it, instead of telling. So so good.

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