Chapter Two

Prompt: Mention a tree, colors and an animal.

Stan White was looking good and he knew it. His vintage red corvette convertible wrapped itself around him like a custom fitted suit. Even though the fall air was a little on the cool side, he still drove with the top down. It was good to be seen.

He was seen alright. Something perched atop the Golden Gate Bridge watched as Stan passed beneath on his way to the toll booth. A “target acquired” signal was processed and it dove down to take a sample.

Stan waited in the toll line unconcerned. He cared more about the eyes on him and his car than about the waste of minutes lost to traffic. He looked around nonchalantly as if it were no big deal to be driving such a machine. All of his attention was turned inward as his ego feasted. He failed to notice the small mosquito-like passenger that settled onto his bald spot.

The memory thief went to work. It drank deeply for it had been a long time between meals.

Stan pulled up to the toll booth.

“That will be five dollars please.”

He looked up at the toll taker and asked, “Who am I?”


Something strange was growing on the black bottom of a northern California pond. It had taken on the efficient Hive mentality. This was the best way to process and absorb the tremendous amount of data from this species-rich planet. Small bits of itself were constantly coming and going. They would download and share. That done, off they would go again in search of the next memory.

Within hours, a new variant was beginning to evolve in the pond. Settler scouts went out. They were not looking for memories. They sought out the next nest. The hive was growing fast and would soon need more space than the current nest could accommodate.


Sadie sat down and scratched at something she couldn’t quite reach. That always seemed to be the case. Maybe she could get her boy, Bobby to do it for her. Her nose located him somewhere outside. She exited the house through the dog door and headed around to the backyard.

Bobby was swinging from an old tire suspended beneath a large tree. Sadie jogged over to him, wagging her tail excitedly. As she got closer, her sense of “wrongness” perked up. There was something about Bobby that was not quite right. He seemed unresponsive, as if he didn’t recognize her. No, it was more than that.

She sat down near the swing and pondered the boy’s condition.

Thirty minutes later, Mrs. Butterfield opened the back door and called Bobby to dinner. When he didn’t come running, she went out to see what the problem was. Like most boys, he never missed a call to the table.

There he was, on the swing with Sadie at his feet. Both were just staring off into space. Before she was even off the back porch her instincts told her something was wrong. She ran out to her son, fear gripping her.

Halfway across the yard, she slowed to a walk and then stopped altogether.

What was it I was going to do out here?

She stood transfixed in the middle of the yard, trying to remember.

Word count 535
Running total 891