Free Sample

    Hi, I'm Lynn, and I just wanted to say 'Welcome' to my blog. 

This is my experiment in futuristic comedy. Here is the beginning of Free Sample.

Free Sample

~Chapter 1~

 "Are you tired of your blah personality? Don't you wish you could be someone else for a change? Try our all new device StarLife. It's time to let your life shine." The T.V. blares as I wait for my show to return. 

 I am about to mute the volume when I pause and think. "StarLife" I mutter aloud, "I wonder what they mean, 'be someone else'. My brows furrow, and my head cocks to the side as I think. I grab my phone, and search for StarLife. The very same ad that just finished on the TV is the first result. I click on the link without hesitation. A professional looking web page opens, and the first section is full of user testimonies. I scroll down, skimming reviews as I go. Lower on the site, I find a list of all the traits this product can evoke in a person.

According to this company, there are 638 personality traits present in the human brain. I guess they should know, they listed them ALL. From Active, all the way to Zany. My eyes cross as I try to read the chart of personalities. This company's product can apparently evoke any specific trait according to the device's programming. 

I pull back a little shaking my head, the claims they are making seem impossible. How can any programmed device change a person's personality? It would be a cool thing if it worked, but it's beginning to feel 'too good to be true'. Eventually my curiosity wins over my cynicism and I continue exploring the website. I stumble onto a section titled "Deals". I quickly scroll past subscription services, and hundred trait options. I slow my roll, and begin reading the small print when I see 'Five Trait' choices. "O.K. Let's see here. 'Purchase a one use device loaded with five random traits for only $19.99 USD.' Hmm. . . nah." I shake my head. "Wait a minute, what's this?"

 My eye is caught by a flashing banner under the last purchase option on the screen. 'For the next TEN minutes only! Get a FREE device. Preloaded with four random traits. Exclusively for the next One Hundred customers. Try our outstanding product before time runs out. CLICK HERE to BUY NOW!'

 As I watch, the timer in the banner starts counting down, while the customer count follows suit. My heart is pounding, and I feel a rush of adrenaline. I want to hurry up and 'Get one before they're gone', but I've been burnt by bad guys before. I am still indecisive, I can't tell if there is more to this product than what they say, or if they're just scamming everyone.

 I continue to struggle internally with all the "what-if's". The timer drops to 7:50, and there are 88 places left by the time my gut wins out over my head, and I click the banner. "Here I go, " I whisper, jumping feet first into the new me. Fingers crossed.

 The next page resolves, and I see the actual product for the first time. It looks like a medium thick silver chain, set with a colored gem balanced in the center. Below the main picture, a few thumbnails are listed, showing the device from different angles. Including a picture showing how to wear the device. All these pictures are doing is confusing me. Why is she wearing the necklace on her forehead, with the gem above her nose? How does this device actually work? Whose life are we going to live?

I read the product description. This device, that the company calls a frontlet, centers over your metaphysical ‘third eye’ in order to “Open your mind to the possibilities”. Rolling my eyes I notice the countdown is still progressing. Way to make a person feel the pressure man, the time is at 5:20 with only 74 devices left to go. Lower on the page I finally see the information I’m after.

“The settings are random, and programmed by us. The frontlet sends a gentle electrical impulse to your brain to trigger a specific personality trait. Each trait will be active for 24 hours from the initial use. Complete instructions and warnings. . .  blah, blah, blah.”

I take a deep breath as the timer clicks from five minutes to 04:59, I place my thumb on the sensor pad, and my phone fills out the information form with my name, receiver number, email, and phone number. Farther down is the choice of chain color, silver or gold. I choose silver to go with my dark hair and tan complexion. Before time runs out, I purchase the life changing device.

At 04:22 I hit the “purchase” link. Immediately my receiver dings, and a new email flashes it’s notification at me. I flip to my emails, and notice the new one is from the “StarLife” company, informing me that my package has been delivered. Packages have been delivered this fast for the past five years, but I still shake my head in wonder and amazement at the speed and sophistication of technology. Smiling, I head to the receiver port to collect my “free personality trait sample”

~Chapter 2~

The glowing green door starts retracting as I come closer, revealing a plain brown shipping box. Trying not to raise my hopes too high, I locate my scissors and open the package. Nestled carefully in the shipping box is what looks like a black plastic case. Raising the case from the box, I realize the case is clear and filled with some sort of black fabric. I place the clear case on the table nearby, and carefully lift the lid. Soft, velvety, black fabric fills the space inside. I gently fold the fabric, uncovering whatever it surrounded. Once the cloth is out of the way, I see it. The light in my kitchen space reflects off the cut facets of the gem, as the silver chain shimmers on the glossy fabric.

Seeing the frontlet in person takes my breath away. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life. It looks so delicate. I am terrified I will break it with a touch. Gently pulling on the black velvet, I release enough to cover part of my wooden table. Catching and holding a deep breath I gently lift the frontlet and move it to the velvet covered section of the table. Once it’s safely there, only then can I breathe again. 

Moving back to the case, I remove another fold of cloth. Underneath I find the promised (threatened) instruction and warning booklet, along with a small piece of paper listing four traits with their related gem color.

“Adventurous - Purple; Youthful - Yellow; Charming - Red; and Humorous  - Blue.” I read aloud. “Alrighty then.”

The silence of the room echoed back to me. Shaking off my disquiet and picking up the booklet; I start to read as I move to sit in front of the device. After a quick read, I turn back to the beginning and find the ‘Quick Start’ section.

From my read through, I realize the device isn’t as fragile as it looks. The band is made of solid copper painted silver, and the “gem” is actually quartz. I locate the small filament the booklet described, and find the small trigger port on the back of the quartz gem.

According to the booklet, all I have to do is touch the filament to the port. Then don the frontlet. The color of the gem will let me know what trait will be dominant for the next 24 hours. The traits are randomized, and as soon as I use them up, it will be a pretty piece of costume jewelry. But, hey, it’s free right? What could possibly go wrong?

Looking up from my study of the device I noticed time has flown by. I’m late for my rest cycle, and my show will have to wait until tomorrow. Carefully packing away the frontlet device, I lock up and head to my bed.

I change into my bedclothes, and climb into my gel mattress. As the mattress forms to - and supports - my body, I think about the traits, and wonder how they’ll change my life.

The next morning I wake up refreshed and relaxed. Heading to the kitchen, I program my Kitch-Kit to start my coffee while I shower and change. Stepping out of the steaming shower, I request the first cup be delivered to the portal in the hall. Drying off, I grab my coffee as I head to my closet.

Thinking about the traits, I decide on gray stretch pants, and a long loose white top. Ankle socks and slip-ons complete my outfit. I retrieve the device and prepare for my day as the new me. 

Opening the plastic case, I pull out the frontlet, and trigger the gem. The quartz flashes through the rainbow once, then settles on a steady blue. Humorous, right now I couldn't tell a joke if my life depended on it. Hopefully, this device will change that.

Taking a deep breath, I place the frontlet on my head. My whole body shivers, and I feel slightly different. I take the device off my head and place it back in it’s case. I’m ready to go out and put this free sample to the test.

Noticing my grocery list, I decided to head to the store to test out the trait. I exit my little house, and am about to climb into my electric-self-driving car, when I am hit with a giggle fit. My car looks like an inverted fishbowl with wheels! I can’t believe I’ve never seen the resemblance before.

Suddenly instead of a laugh, I blurt out “Two goldfish are in a tank, one turns to the other and says ‘do you know how to drive this thing?’ .“ What!? I look around. Thankfully the street was empty and no one was close enough to hear that joke bomb. 

Hoping that every joke wouldn’t be that bad, I climb inside the car, and program the drive to the grocery store. I glance at the scenery while it passes by, but I’m not really paying attention. I’m thinking of what other jokes this device is going to make me blurt out. I’m beginning to think that this device may not have been my smartest purchase - even though it was free.

The car finally parked at the store, and I grabbed a cart and headed in. Needing fresh fruit, I start in the produce section. Heading straight to the melons, l pick one up, thump it, and turn to put it into my cart. 

The lady next to me leans over and says, “These are very sweet melons, aren’t they?”

“When life gives you melons, you’re dyslexic.” I blush deeply and mutter, “sorry” while I push my cart away as fast as I can. I am mortified. I cannot believe I just blurted that out to a stranger! This ‘humorous’ setting isn’t making me laugh. 

I hurry through the rest of my list. I just want to get the shopping done and get back home before I blurt out any more ‘jokes’.

Gathering my final item, I head toward the checkout. I pick the automated lane, and mount my cart on the floor plate. The metal platform lifts as the rear panel of the cart is lowered by magnets. Slowly I watch the handle of the bascart lift, while my items gently tumble onto the belt. The mechanical arm over the scanner pad rotates my items, while moving them onto the bagging area. There, the paper bags are filled by a rotating arm - according to the item’s purchase SKU. Cold foods were packed with other cool items, and boxes were placed with precision.

I move toward the payment station as the arm scans my last purchase. Resting my thumb on the sensor pad, the cost of my purchase is debited from my account, and I take the reloaded cart out of the store. Unfortunately I can’t get away without someone thinking they are being nice.

“You have a good day.” The old door greeter said as I exited the building.

I tried to bite my lip, but the joke came out anyway. “The best thing about the good old days, is that we were neither good nor old.” I hung my head, trying to hold back tears of shame.

“HA HA HA,” I heard. “You got that right girlie. Thanks for the laugh… made my day.”

“Knock-knock” Wait, What?

“Who’s there?” The old man is playing along???

“Tank” Where am I going with this???

“Tank who?”

“You’re welcome.” With that, I turn around and run out of the store. I don’t care about decorum. I don’t even want to think about what just happened. All this device is doing is making me wish I could die of embarrassment. This wasn’t the ‘life’ I had in mind when reading the site.

I get the groceries in the car, and I head back home. I’m not sure being in public under the influence of this trait is a good idea.

Once I’m home, and the groceries are put away, I check the time. Unfortunately, since I’m in the habit of talking to myself, I end up blurting out another sad joke. Instead of saying What time is it? I hear myself say “I ate a clock yesterday, it was very time consuming.”

Why me? So far this freebie is zero for four. It may only be noon, but I am ready for this day to be over.

I spend the remainder of my ‘24 hours of humor’ sequestered in my house. I’m afraid to answer my phone. I definitely don’t need my family to find out about my ‘free’ buy. If I had any friends, I probably wouldn’t have wanted the device to begin with.

The day passes slowly, as I struggle not to talk. The jokes coming out of my mouth are the farthest thing from funny.

I am so relieved when it is time for bed. Maybe tomorrow’s trait won’t be as embarrassing.

~Chapter 3~

After breakfast the next morning - still regretting my purchase - I try the next trait. Taking a deep breath I repeat the process from the day before. This time, after the rainbow display, the gem holds a steady purple hue. According to the sheet, adventure is today’s - well, adventure. Funny how that happened… oh, no. Please let the humor trait go away! I cannot deal with another day like yesterday. I hope adventure is a better experience than humor. I am a rather boring person, this will definitely be a change in my life. 

Placing the frontlet on my head, I exhale as I feel a wash of power flow over me again. I have a persistent urge to check the ‘What’sAPPenin’ app on my phone. It is filled with up to the minute information on any and every exciting thing that goes on in my city. I type ‘adventure’ in the search bar, and a few choices pop up. Wow, I didn’t know my city had so many attractions. There are hilly bike trails, canoeing, rock climbing, bungee jumping, an amusement park, and horse riding. It was going to be very difficult to choose. I really am a boring person, I have never tried any of these activities.

Eventually I decided on horseback riding, bungee jumping, and canoeing. After making my reservations for each activity, I got dressed in another flowing outfit, this time in shades of teal and lavender.

Before heading out the door, I realize I’m still wearing the frontlet, and I hastily remove it. Storing the device away, I hurry to the car. I don’t want to be late for my first adventure.

I begin to program the car for Mason Jar Farms, when I feel another push I can’t ignore. I wonder if I should drive? Feeling the trait imposing on my instincts, I decide to follow the idea. Switching the car from automatic to manual, I place it in reverse, and start down my drive. Reaching the street, and finding it clear, I continue on my way.

I make it out to the countryside - where Mason Jar Farms is located - and check in at the reception desk outside the barn.

“Hi, my name is Amara Brown. I’m here for my trail ride.” I said

“Oh, yes, Ms. Brown. We are so pleased you decided to give us a try.” The peppy little farm hand continued in an excited voice. “We’ve been on this land for more than 200 years, and we love introducing people to horses and the joy of riding.” She looked at me with a bright smile.

“Ok.” I said. “So, what happens now?” I asked.

“Well, we’ll take you into the barn, pick out your horse, and get you fitted out. Then some basic instructions, and we’ll hit the trail. I’m Sammy by the way.” She looked like the traditional picture of a cowgirl, she wore nice sturdy boots with a thick heel, fitted jeans tucked in at her ankles, and a loose red plaid shirt. Her face was small, with a pert nose. Her hair was a dishwater blonde, and secured into two braids that fell over her shoulders every time she turned her head.

Entering the barn with Sammy, we went to one of the many horse stalls lining the breezeway. A brown horse head was hanging over the half door as we approached.

“This here is Socks,” Sammy said. “On account of her white patches above her hooves. She’s really timid, so you should have a gentle ride on her. I’ll get her saddled, while you go find a pair of boots and a helmet that fit from that rack over there.

Turning around, I locate the rack she described, and head over to choose my items. Once I was properly attired, I returned to Sammy and Socks.

Now that Socks was out of her stall, I could see how beautiful she was. The horse was mostly brown, except for the white splashes above her hooves. Her coat shone like a mirror. Socks shoulder was as high as mine, and I wondered how I would ever get on her back.

“How tall is Socks?” I asked, starting to fear this huge animal I was supposed to ride.

“She’s 15 hands, or about five feet tall.” Sammy replied, “Follow me, we’ll have our instruction in the corral.” Holding the horse’s reins, Sammy led the way to the fenced field.

The instructions were simple, and I paid close attention. Lean forward to speed up, lean back to slow down, and use the reins to direct the horse where you want to go.

In fact, the most difficult part of the entire operation was getting me on the horse’s back. Sammy, Socks, and I walked to the fence, and I used the steps built into it to try to get on Socks. It was hard for me to understand the process without visual aids, but I eventually figured out what I needed to do.

Placing my right foot in the stirrup, I held onto the saddle horn. Bending my left leg as high as I could, I finally managed to swing myself into the saddle. Sammy passed me the reins, and instructed me to ride a few laps around the paddock to get used to the horse’s gait, while she collected her own horse for our ride.

After a few laps, I was beginning to feel comfortable in my ability, and it was time to hit the trail. Sammy led the way into the trees, and we walked the horses in single file. It felt good to get some time to experience the beauty of nature, and I was starting to relax.

Regrettably, that was when Sammy’s horse and Socks both sped up. I was having some trouble keeping myself in the saddle. Looking over Socks’ head, I noticed a small creek flowing through a break in the terrain ahead. I watched as Sammy leaned forward, and she and her horse jumped the stream.

It was a beautiful sight. The way the horse stretched it’s legs reaching for the other side, it almost looked like it was flying.

Then, too soon, it was Socks’ turn to jump the creek. I knew in an instant that this was going to end badly, and I was right. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Socks looked just as lovely jumping the creek as Sammy’s horse. It’s just a pity I couldn’t stay in the saddle. Right as Socks touched down on the other side, I slipped off her back. Landing, with a loud splash, in the middle of the creek.

Slightly dazed and out of breath, I slowly got to my feet. Making my way to the other bank, I began to climb. Soaking wet and muddy, I finally reach the path. I look up to see Sammy waiting for me, Sock’s reins in hand,

“I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault,” She gushed.

I smiled, “It’s alright, no lasting harm done.” Taking the reins from Sammy, I followed her as we walked back the way we had just come.

“Once I put the horses in the field, I’ll take you in the store. We should be able to find you some dry clothes there.” Sammy said.

“That sounds wonderful,” I agreed, squishing along in my wet boots.

It didn’t take as long as I thought it would to return to the barn and corral. Sammy tied both horses to the fence, and brought me into the farmhouse nearby.

“Momma,” She called out as we entered. “Momma, one of the students fell in the creek again.”

“How many times…” A voice from the depths of the house began, “...must I tell you not to take that trail?” The voice finished, as a tall thin woman appeared, drying her hands on a towel. “I am so sorry about your fall dear, come with me and we’ll get you all dried off.” I followed the woman back into the house, while she continued rambling on. “I’m Denise, Sammy’s mom, you probably already guessed that, but you and I look about the same size. I’m sure I have some clothes you can wear.”

“Sammy said she’d take me to your store to pick out some things,” I said, confused.

“That’s not necessary. I think I have a few choices for you.” Denise replied.

“Oh, thank you very much.” Relieved that I wouldn’t have to buy new clothes, I followed Denise into a quiet, peaceful space.

The room was painted in calming blue hues. The bed that dominated the room was covered in a handmade quilt, and the cherry wood dressers and bed frame added a nice homey feel.

Denise moved to a closet, and began removing a few comfortable looking pairs of jeans, and some slightly faded plaid shirts. 

“Here you go Hun, now you don’t need to get these back to me, I was supposed to donate them weeks ago, but life - what can you do. Anyways, go ahead, pick something to wear, here’s some towels to dry off with, and I’ll just be in the kitchen when you’re done.” Leaving the room, she closed the door.

Quickly drying off, I slipped into a pair of holey faded jeans, and a blue plaid shirt. Carrying my wet clothes in a bundle, I left the room. Following my ears, I found Denise bustling around her kitchen

On the table was a steaming tea kettle, two mugs, some tea bags, and bowls of sugar and cream.

“Join me for a warm cup of tea to chase the chill from your bones?” She asked as she added a plate of chocolate chip cookies to the table.

Feeling the need for some warmth, I was grateful for her offer. We sat drinking tea, eating cookies, and talking; until my phone alarm alerted me that it was time for my next adventure.

Thankful for Denise’s hospitality, I said my goodbyes and headed to the car. Watching Sammy brushing out the horses as I passed, I called out “Thanks for the ride.” I hope it didn’t come across as sarcastic. I did have a good time, until I fell off.

Entering my car, I switched the controls back to auto-drive, and I headed to the Gateway Gorge Bridge, for my bungee jumping experience. As the car traveled north, both the bridge and the gorge came into view. 

A deep blue river ran through the gorge - a river I would be paddling on in a few hours. The bridge arched over the deep ravine. My destination was the exact middle of that enormous span of steel and rivets.

The car drove me exactly where I needed to be, which was a good thing. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t be able to drive onto the bridge. Heights have never been very nice to me.

Gathering my courage, I head to the knot of people standing around the jump pad. I struggle to ignore my inner voice - what am I doing to myself? 

Reaching the group of people, a man wearing a ‘Gateway Gorge Jump’ shirt approaches me. I tell him my name, and he replies, “Yes, Ms. Brown, we have your reservation. If you will follow me, we will get your safety gear on and you’ll be ready to jump.”

Swallowing a lump of nervousness, I follow my guide to the staging area, and don the safety gear according to his instructions. He made sure my harness was tight, and the helmet was securely in place, before leading me to the jump point. After hooking various cords to my harness, he helped me into position and said, “You can jump whenever you are ready.”

Standing on the outside of the bridge, my fingers were locked in a death grip on the railing. I couldn’t bring myself to look down yet, so I tried to look out at the vista. Dots began swimming before my eyes. Dizziness struck, and my vision began to darken at the edges. I could feel myself beginning to hyperventilate, and my fingers turned numb. The blackness overwhelmed me, and I remembered nothing.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was laying on a hard surface, and three EMT droids were hovering over me, checking my vital signs.

~Chapter 4~

“What… What’s going on?” I asked, “what happened?”

“You blacked out Ms. Brown. Once the men pulled you back up, they called us to come check on you.” One of the droids answered. 

“Oh, did I pass out?” I couldn’t believe I missed my own jump. How lame is that?! 

“Yes, It looks like you have a rather severe case of acrophobia.”

“I understand, no more heights for me.” I said, trying to make light of the situation. 

“Do you want to come with us to the clinic to get checked out?”

“No, thanks, I think I’m alright.”

“Very well, Ms. Brown. Have a pleasant rest of your day.” The droid finished, as all three removed their devices from my body, and flew back to their base.

The nice man who helped me prepare for my jump, also helped me remove the helmet and harness. He seemed conflicted, “I’m supposed to say, ‘we hope you come jump with us again’ but I don’t think you should return. I have to admit, we were all scared when you turned white and toppled off the platform. It might be best if you kept your feet on the ground - for a while, at least.”

“That is very good advice, and I think I will take it. I am sorry I scared everyone, I just wish I could remember the jump,” I finished sadly.

He helped me to my car, and I drove to Gateway Gorge Canoe Rental. It wasn’t very far away. As the car transports me there, I think about my adventures so far. Dumped in a creek by a horse, and fainting on a bungee platform - 0 for 2 adventures. Maybe canoeing will be more my speed.

Arriving at the rental place, the car parks; I walk into the log fronted building, and up to the front counter.

“Hi, I’m Amara Brown, I have a reservation for 2 pm.”

“Yes, Ms. Brown, I see your reservation. If you could fill out this form, we’ll get you on that river.” The brunette behind the counter smiles at me, and I smile back.

I couldn’t wait to get on the river. My family used to take a speed boat out every summer, but I’ve never rowed myself anywhere. I finish the form, and hand it back. The lady, who’s name tag says ‘Brittany’, points me to a large building next to an idling grey bus.

“You’ll have to pick out a life vest and a double paddle from that building, get on the bus, and they’ll take you to the launch point. The three mile journey usually takes five hours. Just join the group waiting for the bus when you’re ready.

“Ok.” I reply, “I can’t wait.” I head outside and follow Brittany’s instructions. The bus driver adds my paddle to the growing pile on the front seats, and I find a place about halfway down the bus. The smell, and feel, of the vinyl seats takes me back to my school years; and riding the bus twice a day, every day. Shaking off my nostalgia, I observe the rest of the people climb aboard.

I brace my hand on the seat in front of me, when the bus rumbles to life, and sets off down a gravel road. We finally reach a black-topped road, and speed along to our destination.

Arriving at the launch point, all of us passengers pick up our paddles, and exit the bus. Group by group, the rental employees begin launching the kayakers and canoeists. I hung back, watching the process, so I would know what to do when it was my turn.

The employees would drag a canoe (or kayak) to the river, and hold it still while the riders got in. Once it was loaded, the men would push the boat into the river, and the paddlers would start navigating downstream. I saw that kayakers used both blades of the paddle repetitively to keep on a straight course.

Now confident in my ability, I joined the rest of the people waiting to launch. Eventually my turn came, and I was launched into the river, controlling my very own kayak.

Finally, this was fun. I loved looking at the view, and exercise had never been more enjoyable. I was going at my own pace, I had nowhere to be, so it didn’t matter if everyone passed me up. This was my type of adventure, a peaceful cruise down the river.

Getting stuck on a sandbar however? Not so much fun. It took me some time to figure out how to back myself off the sand, then I was all turned around. The sandbar I was stuck on was a beach that reached into the river, and split it in two. Once I got off the sandbar, my kayak was drawn into the offshoot river. Praying I would meet up with the main arm soon, I proceeded down the water course.

Instead of entering the gorge, my journey continued past the farms and homesteads lining the river. Completely bewildered and lost, I continued paddling for hours. 

I saw the sun turn the sky a brilliant red - before I saw another person. There was a man, mid thirties, sitting on the bank of the river fishing as I floated by.

“Where are you heading?” He called out.

“No clue” I answered with a grin.

“Where did you come from?” He tried again.

“Gateway Gorge Canoe Rentals.”

“Oh, you’re way off track.”

“I thought so. How long do you think it would take me to get back?”

“You won’t be able to tonight. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. You come on back home with me. My wife will set you up. We have a really pretty guest room. You stay with us tonight, and I’ll take you back to the rental place in t he morning, alright?”

Normally I would be wary of unsolicited offers from strange men, but between the exhaustion and the push for adventure, I accepted his offer. The nice man helped pull me ashore, and I followed him to his house. I carried my life vest and paddle, and he drug the kayak behind him, his catch thrown over his shoulder. We slowly trudged our way to a neat, two story, white washed home. It had a large wooden veranda that encircled the house.

I met his lovely wife, and the three of us shared a companionable evening. The guest room was as pretty as the fisherman said it would be, and the bed was as comfortable as my own.

Laying there, waiting to fall asleep I thought about my day. All the activities were busts, but atleast I met some nice, interesting people. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought - at least this trait was not as embarrassing as humor was.

~Chapter 5~

Waking up in a strange house isn’t usually a positive experience. But this was the exception to the rule - apparently. I woke up to the sun shining through the window, and the birds singing in the trees. Getting dressed, I made my way downstairs, following the smell of coffee and bacon. The fisher and his wife were at the table, and the delicious smells emanated from this one room. Sitting at the table with my hosts, I poured a cup of strong black java juice, and said, “Good morning.”

“As soon as we’re done eating, I’ll take you back to Gateway Gorge Canoe Rental.” The fisherman said gruffly.

“That sounds wonderful, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Thank you.” I replied. His only response was an affable grunt as he concentrated on clearing his plate.

It didn’t take us long to eat, and the man had already loaded my gear in the back of his truck, by the time we were ready to leave.

The drive back to the rental place was short and quiet. I guess we were both a bit introverted. After unloading my kayak and gear, he drove off with a friendly wave, as I sheepishly made my way to the reservation counter.

“Hi, I’m Amara Brown, I…”

“Oh, Ms. Brown! We are so glad you’re ok! What happened?”

“I got lost.” This could only happen to me. Right?

“You probably took the Spinner’s Creek offshoot. Didn’t you?” One of the counter girls asked.

“I guess.” I said with a shrug. I didn’t have a clue where I ended up.

“Well, since you’re back safe, we’ll just get you checked out.” Brittany said from her position behind the counter.

“I brought everything back.” I said.

“Yes, I see. We just need your thumbprint here - stating that you returned safely - and that’s it.”

I pressed my thumb into the pad, and turned to leave the building.

“We hope you had fun. Come back and see us again.”

I just kept walking, only shaking my head once I was out of sight of the building. How could those girls possibly think I ever wanted to go through that again. Returning to my car, I set the autodrive for home. I can feel that all of the ‘adventure’ is out of my system.

By the time I make it back to my home, it’s lunchtime, and I’m starving. I head straight for my Kitch-Kit. Scrolling through the menu listed, I choose my favorite salad. Dark emerald spinach mixed with the lighter shade of butter lettuce as a base. Then I opt for fresh peas, sliced carrots, broccoli, a hard boiled egg, chopped mushrooms, and cucumber strips. All covered with sunflower seeds, croutons, fried onion bits, and my favorite honey mustard dressing. I finish detailing my order, and press ‘serve’. The chilled bowl filled with my delicious rabbit food emerges from the serving door.

I take my food over to my small table, scrolling through my current book as I eat. Once I swallow my last bite, I return the dishes to the Kitch-Kit, and retrieve the frontlet.

There were only two more traits to try, youthful and charming. I didn’t have any real plans today. Experiencing the next trait will hopefully be a better experience than the others.

By now, it is almost second nature for me to trigger the frontlet, and I watch as the gem cycles through the rainbow, and finally emits a steady crimson light. Red, that would be the ‘charming’ trait. Putting the frontlet over my head, I feel the same wash of sensation flowing over my body.

Once the feeling passes I remove the frontlet, and place the device back in it’s box. Looking around my home, notice my tablet and notes sitting on my desk. With a flash of inspiration, I collect my pile from the table, and head back to my car.

I set my autodrive for the coffee shop a few blocks away. The little cafe is full of cushioned couches, deep comfortable chairs, and the enticing aroma of roasted beans, and scrumptious baked goods. It’s the perfect atmosphere to inspire my writing.

Arriving at the small shop, I take a deep breath as I enter the establishment. I hold the delicious aromas until I can taste them on my tongue, then I exhale. Filled with the warmth that can only come from being somewhere you love, I make my way to the counter and order a green tea from the Robo-Barista.

It doesn’t take long before I am settled at one of the larger tables. My notes and tablet spread before me. Sipping at my tea, I begin to turn my vague notes into complex ideas - filled with description and excitement. I am working so intently, that the approach of another person fails to pierce my fog, until he clears his throat.

I jump, and stare at the man standing in front of me. I can feel my lips curving up at the corners, as I take in his sudden appearance.

“Sorry for startling you, My name is Jeff Fields, and I just had to come over and introduce myself. May I join you?” He asked, hesitantly.

“Please do,” I hear myself say, “I’m Amara Brown.” What am I doing?

He sat, and continued staring at me, as if his gaze was physically caught on my features. He must have seen the questioning look on my face, because Jeff said, “Forgive me for staring, but I must say you look exceptional.”

“Oh, um, thank you.” I replied. “You look rather sharp as well.” Trying to think of conversation, I glance around the cafe. At this time of day, the only patrons in the coffee shop were what my grandmother’s generation would call ‘starving artists’. It did give me an idea for conversation though. “So, what brings you to my humble corner?”

“I came over to ask if I could buy you a cup of coffee, but I see you already have a drink, so may I purchase a dessert for you instead?”

I studied him for a moment before replying. “A cherry turnover would be delightful.” A smile ghosted over my face as Jeff headed towards the bakery counter.

He returned quickly, and sat across from me at the table. “Delivery complete.” He joked.

“So, what brings you to this little hole in the wall?” I ask, examining his face and listening intently. For some reason his answer is the most important thing I will hear all day - according to the device.

“I’m working on my ‘cast, writing my next episode. I discuss interesting facts about animals, and their specialty care tips.” Jeff explained.

“Why did you choose that topic?” I asked. It was kind of interesting, but not enough to continue this conversation.

“We always had pets growing up, and I loved learning about them and taking care of them.” He said.

“You should have been a veterinarian” I interrupted. We both chuckled and he continued.

“It only seemed natural to share that love with others, so I started a ‘cast. What are you working on?”

“I’m writing a dystopian story. It’s about the world in five hundred years, after massive biological weapons have been deployed, destroying nuclear power plants in the process. The story follows some young ‘changed’ humans. It’s shaping up nicely.”

“That sounds intriguing. I would love to hear more, maybe over dinner? That is if you don’t have any other plans.” Jeff sounded hopeful and terrified at the same time. I was impressed.

“I don’t have any plans, yet.” I answered with a coy smile. “Dinner sounds delightful, I would love to go.”

“You pick the restaurant.” Jeff said.

“Have you heard of a place called ‘Peggy’s Pasta’?” I asked.

“I think I’ve seen it, over by the square? I’ve always wanted to try that place. Would you like to meet tonight, say, around seven?”

“That sounds great.” I flash him a dazzling smile. “I’ll see you then.”

I  watched him walk away, realizing the device controlled my half of the conversation with ease. Thoughts swirled in my head, I couldn’t tell which ideas belonged to me, and which ones the device was pulling from my subconsciousness. This may not have been the first time I’ve been on a date, but it was the first date I’d had in a long time. Controlling device or not, I was going for it!

Setting a reminder for my date, I continued working on my novel. I was able to complete another chapter of my manuscript before I have to leave to prepare for my date.

Gathering my things, I head to the door. That’s when things started getting interesting. Interesting? More akin to weird. I may be exaggerating, but it seemed like every person in the entire cafe had to stop me, and offer me something. Drinks, food, even lame pick up lines.

‘Do you like raisins, how about a date’

‘Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again’

‘Woman if you were words on a page, you’d be fine print’

I had to bite my tongue and squeeze my lips closed, to hold back the replies waiting to burst out of my throat. This thing made me way too charming. I got out of there as fast as I could. Leaving all my admirers behind, I fled to my car, and went home.

~CHAPTER 6~

Arriving at home, I put away my novel, and headed straight for my closet. As I looked at my clothes, I wondered how charming the frontlet is going to make me during my date. Apprehension knots my stomach, as I begin to have second thoughts about my upcoming rendezvous.

Finally settling on a knee-length grey sweater dress with black leggings and strappy silver sandals, I sit at my vanity. When the seat feels my weight, a menu pops up on the mirror.

The menu lists the options pre-programed into the FaceShield2000. Club look, date night - romantic or friendly, day look, flashy, night look, nude, and subtle. I try to choose ‘friendly date night’, but I touch ‘romantic date night’ instead.

The list disappears, and a plastic mask rises from inside the counter. I close my eyes, align my face in the proper position, and press the apply button on the mirror. The hiss of the airbrush fills my ears as I wait for the device to finish applying my makeup. The mask stopped hissing, and I sat back, staring at my reflection. My eyebrows were thick and defined, my eyeshadow glimmered radiantly, subtle highlights drew attention to my face, and my lips looked soft and kissable. Checking the time, I gave my hair a final brush, and headed off on my date with Jeff.

Arriving at ‘Peggy’s Pasta’, I find Jeff waiting outside for me. He’s behaving like such a gentleman. After complimenting my appearance, he escorts me to the doors of the restaurant. When we enter, the hostess-bot leads us to a private booth along the rear wall of the room. Once we are seated, the menus in the table are triggered. We silently peruse the selections for a few moments before indicating our choice directly on the menu. The menus disappear. A slot in the wall opens, and two glasses of sparkling white wine become visible. Jeff removed the glasses from the dispenser, and placed one in front of me.

“Here’s to new friends,” he said, lifting his glass.

“And wonderful food.” I add as we both drink.

A few minutes later, the slot opens again, and our food is waiting to be removed. Jeff’s Chicken Parmesan was a work of art, the pasta curled tightly under the sauce coated chicken patty. The mozzarella cheese looked melted and creamy under its baked brown crust.

My Eggplant with Spinach Fettuccine looked delectable and the smells emanating from the steaming dish made my mouth water. Large pieces of roasted eggplant dotted the grass green fettuccine, while a beautiful pesto sauce pooled beneath the pasta.

 Between bites of the delicious food, we kept the conversation light and pleasant. Mostly talking about our dreams and families. Towards the end of our meal, our discussion became more intimate, and Jeff moved closer on the bench. He began tracing his fingers along my arm, and rubbing his leg against mine.

Thankfully the table showed its request for payment, distracting Jeff for the moment. I offer to pay for my own meal, but Jeff refuses. Rising from the table, we head out of the restaurant. He escorts me to my car, but he won’t leave. Jeff keeps talking, asking me for another date. Before the trait can make me agree, I shake my head no. He doesn’t take the hint. Jeff has the unoriginal idea that we should go back to my place for ‘coffee’. My exhaustion from the past few days seems to overload the charming trait, and I am able to override the impulse to invite him home with me.

“I’m sorry,” I explain. “Tonight isn’t good for me, I have an early appointment in the morning. Why don’t you give me a call, and we can set something up later.” Jeff agreed and we fist-bump to share our contact information. He finally heads to his car, and I head home.

Arriving at home I cleanse my face, and collapse in bed. The night was filled with pleasant charming dreams.

The next morning, after realizing the ‘charming’ trait will be active until about lunchtime, I stayed in my house, engrossed in my novel. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted another encounter like yesterday.

At least my recent experiences were giving fuel to my writing. I ignored all distractions, and by the time seven pm rolled around I was amazed by the amount I added to my work. I was able to capture over 10 thousand words on my tablet. The story was flying along, and I felt very accomplished. 

Then, I re-read the work I did from yesterday morning up till noon today. It was supposed to be the most intense scene in the book. My heroine is face to face with the man that killed her family. There is supposed to be a fight scene. Instead the two start getting along. This is a disaster. I’ll have to redo the entire scene. I needed a break, what a waste of time.

Realizing I skipped eating all day, I dialed a quick veggie burger, oven baked green beans and new potatoes, along with a small glass of “Sob-R”. Sob-R, it has the full-bodied fruity flavor you love, but no alcohol. That, and a good book or movie was my favorite way to unwind. Taking the food into the living room, I started watching my shows again. It’s nice to take a break from everything, and just let myself vegetate. By the time my sleep cycle rolls around, I am emotionally drained from all the work I put in today. Collapsing into my bed, I drop into a deep sleep. My dreams were mysteriously absent.

~CHAPTER 7~

In the morning, refreshed from the lack of dreams, I couldn’t wait to try the last trait, youthful. Taking a moment to reflect on my adventures so far; I realize that even though certain events may have been embarrassing at the time, I learned from each experience, and in some cases, I now know what not to do.

As I removed the frontlet from its case for the last time, I caress the velveteen fabric cradling the free device. This entire adventure had been an emotional rollercoaster, and here I was, jumping aboard one more time. Triggering the last trait, the gem finally emits a soft amber glow. The now familiar sensation washes over me as I settle the frontlet on my forehead.

Grabbing my phone I head to the Kitch-Kit for some bagels with cream cheese. Somehow working both devices simultaneously, I retrieve my breakfast and blast some T-Rap, or Techno-Rap. Bopping along to the ‘music’, I finish eating. Before I can begin to contemplate how odd it feels to dance along to music I dislike, I find the device is making another youthful decision for me. I am creating a FLIPT account. It felt like I was channeling a younger me. I removed myself from social media years ago. However, in moments, I had a brand new FaceLinkInstaPinTwitlr account - hence the acronym. After adding a profile picture, and posting an initial update, I close the app.

Heading to the front door, I pause in front of the bathroom mirror. It could be my imagination, but I thought some of my gray hairs disappeared. I ran my fingers through my dark hair, feathering it back from my face to check the hidden grays at my temples. Hm, odd. I shrugg. Glancing at my clothes, I feel the need for a new look. My oversized tees and leggings made me feel my age, I knew I was only 40, but I felt like I was 9 years younger. I was in the mood to buy some pretty clothes to go clubbing in.

Jumping on the alternet, I switched my phone to my personal wi-fi, and headed out the door as I looked up the best store for club wear. Programming the vehicle for the nearest suggestion, I was off. It would be a massive change for me to go clubbing, but as the anticipation hit, I couldn’t wait.

I remembered a time, when I was about 28, when I had an opportunity to go to a club, but I was too shy and insecure to venture out by myself. Tonight I would go, and finally see what the whole scene was like. But first, time to buy some new duds for the club.

When the car pulled up at the mall, I sat for a moment, gathering my thoughts. Trying to separate my youthful urges from the device’s. A glance in the rearview mirror showed I was still wearing the frontlet. The gem was clear, and the silver against my dark hair looked striking. Examining the jewelry from all angles, I decided to leave it on, who knew, maybe I would start a new trend. I squinted into the mirror. Were my crows feet disappearing? Must be the light, I shook my head to dispel the lingering doubts, but the fact I looked younger was difficult to explain away.

Exiting the car and entering the store, I headed straight for the semi-fancy, semi-casual section. Tons of plastic, netted, or otherwise see-through tops met my searching eyes. Neither the frontlet nor myself were feeling that young. A section of black strappy tops and skirts caught my attention.

Picking out my size, I headed to the holographic fitting rooms. Scanning the tags on the clothes, I step behind the curtain. In the mirror, I see myself in that strappy black outfit. The top was form fitting, showing a little too much cleavage. The skirt was black, and solid to mid-thigh. Straps of fabric at the sides held the front and back panels together until the knee. Below my knees, the panels continue to my mid-calf.

Looking in the mirror I notice something alarming. I actually look fifteen years younger than I did this morning. Most people notice that they've lost weight. Not me, I notice I'm losing my years.

Trying to figure it out in my head, I leave the fitting room and head for the store’s shoe section. Perusing the display, I find strappy black heels that seemed made for my selected outfit. Typing my shoe size into the number pad, I retrieve the box that pops out of the display.

Since my hands are getting full, I begin looking for a CartDrone. After a moment of searching the store rafters, one of the drones zooms down to me. The bread-box shaped drone had hooks along its bottom, and a drop down tray. I place the shoes on the tray and hang my clothes on a hook. I make my way to the jewelry counter, the drone following in my wake.

Finding a long silver chain to complement my outfit, I head to the checkout station. Locating an empty scanner, I remove my selections from the drone. It returns to the ceiling; while I scan my purchases, pay, and leave the store.

Sitting in my vehicle before driving home, I have a minor panic attack. I couldn’t believe I just spent $300 on an outfit for one night. This free sample was draining my bank account! It took a lot of deep breaths to help me recenter. Once again calm, I decide to hit the food court for lunch before going home.

Walking through the main doors, I follow my nose to the mixed aromas of Asian, Indian, and deep fried foods. I remembered the fun of hanging out in the bustling food court with some friends from work on our lunch break. Choosing a place to eat wasn’t as difficult back then. Now, most of the store-fronts were merged places. Italian/Asian, Greek/African, Spanish/Isle, and Meric/Indian cuisines. Finding pizza without bean sprouts, gyros without plantains, paella without spam, or burgers without curry was an impossibility. I was feeling adventurous.

Deciding on Italian/Asian fusion, I stepped up to my chosen food portal. I picked a California Roll ‘Pizza’ and a fruit juice. My order appeared, and I found an empty table. The small pizza had Yum-Yum sauce, avocado, crab, seaweed, cucumber, and fried sticky rice. Surprisingly, it was one of the best cold pizzas I had ever eaten. Finishing my juice and recycling the containers, I head back to my vehicle.

Before driving home, I turn on more T-Rap. It was probably what would be playing in the club tonight. At least, that was my story and I was sticking to it. Checking myself out in the mirror one more time, I could swear that my grays were gone, it’s like they had never sprouted to begin with. I had given up coloring my hair years ago. Where did they go? Not that I was complaining - much.

The car took me home, and I enter my house, still singing the latest T-Rap hit - Damn my memorizing brain. This is not the music I want running through my head.

Looking in the mirror, I decide I’m looking krispy in this crown. Might as well keep this trend going.

Noticing the time, I wonder where my day went. I headed to the bathroom with my purchases. I still needed to clean the house, shower, and get ready to go. The club would open soon. Juggling my purchases, I stopped at the house control panel. I set it to ‘clean’ with a thirty minute delay on the bathroom.

I showered and changed into my club wear within my time limit. The rest of the house sparkled when I stepped out of the bathroom. I entered my room and applied my makeup. Stopping at the mirror for one last look before I headed to the club, I leaned in for a closer inspection.

My jaw dropped, I looked like I was 19 again. The gray hairs, crow’s feet, and wrinkles were gone. My eyes shot to the frontlet resting on my head. Understanding hit me like a brick wall. My hands shook as I removed the device. This was the only trait I experienced where I wore the frontlet during my activities. I think it youthened me for each action that I took. Hmm, nineteen again? This could be exciting.

With a smile on my face and the frontlet on the table, I head to the club. Pulling up to the entrance of the building, I sent the car to park, while I walk through the door. A quick pass of my chip over the scanner pays the cover charge and verifies my age.

Passing through another pair of doors, I get my first look at a nightclub. The place was already full of people. Black lights glowed through the smoky air, and a laser show decorates the ceiling above me. Spotting the bar against the wall, I head in that direction.

Finding an empty stool, I sit and tried to get the attention of the human bartender.

“What can I get you?” She waits while I think.

“How about a Cosmopolitan?” I finally decide.

“Sure thing, I just need your thumb hun.” The bartender holds out the pad for my print. She looks at the info after I pay, and does a few double-takes between my face and her screen.

I watch her confusion for a bit, unable to keep a smile off my face.

“Alright, somehow you look about 20 years old, the chip you scanned says 40. Chips don’t lie. So, one Cosmo coming right up. One thing though, what’s your secret?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I replied. Knowing no one would believe the truth.

“If you say so.” The woman shrugged, finished making my drink, and placed it in front of me.

I lift my glass, looking around the club. Here’s to better choices, and Free Samples.

The End

Thanks so much for reading my short story. Join me on my website for the next blog series.

Thanks for reading along. Let me know if you want more adventures for Amara Brown. I love hearing from you!

-Lynn-

4💜 - Keep your eyes to the skies -

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