alternative futures: the clock - part 1 (DRAFT)

note: from time to time, i’ll be using my daily writing time to start drafts of pieces for a project i’m helping to launch with a friend (grant williams) called alternative futures.


harran tried to hold it in but she felt the saliva gathering in the back of her throat.

“aw, shit.”

she vomited.

“fuck! i just bought these damn shoes.”

alexa and sydo grabbed her by the shoulders and helped her steady herself.

she vomited again.

“is it over yet?”

“just another 30 seconds. you got this,” replied sydo. “it’s not as bad as last time, right?”

“no, but it still fucking s…”

harran vomited a third time.

“ok ok, it’s 12:01. it should be over now,” said alexa.

“good. ugh. i can’t wait until it’s my turn again. the transition sucks when the president isn’t in your bloodline. hopefully, next time it won’t be me that’s feeling so rough.”

“yea, let’s can hope.”

the three person crew put their sacks back on and continued their journey forward. their journey home (or what was left of it) was almost over and they were excited to see their families again.

the wooden suspension bridge was wide enough for the three to walk side-by-side and it was the only time they had been able to let their guards down for long enough to not have someone facing the rear as they traveled. this was only their second supply run as a team this year, but they were glad things were going well.

they were only about half of a mile from their neighborhood wall when they heard the crunching of dry leaves under boots.

harran said under her breath, “aw, shit.”

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13:34 4:15