Jim here–not only is this a tight piece of short fiction with twists and stabs but I’d have published it just for the sake of that hat! Gotta love a writer with a good taste in hats! – Jim
The Seer of Midway Mall
I’m not
a fortune teller. Not exactly. I mean, yeah, sometimes I see things, but I
can’t control it. I can’t choose when it
works, or decide whose future I’m going to get a look at. It just happens.
Like
today. I was cutting through the mall on
my way home from work. It was packed, as
usual, and people were irritable about the crowds, also as usual. I don’t know why I always go through the
mall. It shaves five minutes off my
trip, but it more than makes up for it in aggravation. Everyone’s in a hurry, you’re constantly cut
off or jostled, and the best you get by way of apology is a half-hearted
mumble. I’m always promising myself I’ll
stop going that route, but at the end of a long work day the extra five minutes
seems like an eternity.
I
managed to make it all the way to the far exit with my temper still in check,
which was no small feat. I was reaching
for the door when some Bluetooth-using, two thousand dollar suit type stepped
right in front of me. He had to get
pretty aggressive with his shoulder to get ahead, and I stumbled from the
contact, falling forward into him. He
didn’t even slow, just swung his elbow painfully into my chest, and said, “Out
of my way, dickless.”
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I didn’t
have time to get upset, though, because somewhere between his elbow hitting me
and him swearing at me, I had a vision.
I got a look at Bluetooth’s future, and it was not pleasant. I saw him walking alone through a dark
concrete structure. Or at least he
thought he was alone, but I could see someone was following him. He was yammering belligerently into his
phone, not at all aware of his surroundings.
My viewpoint in these things varies, but in this particular vision I was
looking from behind both of them, so I couldn’t get a good look at the person
following him. All I could tell from my angle was that he
appeared to be another “suit and tie guy.”
He carried a brown leather briefcase and wore a long grey pea coat. As he approached his oblivious victim from
behind, I saw a long handled claw hammer slide from inside his sleeve and down
into his hand. It was then I noticed
that he was wearing white latex gloves.
I could see him look around the structure to confirm they were alone and
quicken his pace to catch up to his victim.
“I don’t
care, you’ll do it or you’ll find a new job.”
The guy reached his car and the climax of his phone rant at about the
same time. Hanging up, he unlocked and
opened his car door just as his stalker crept quietly up behind him. The first hammer blow came down on the back of his neck. Bluetooth shrieked and fell face first onto
the driver’s seat. His attacker shoved
him through the car and into the passenger seat, then calmly stepped into the
car himself and shut the door. More
hammer blows followed. Many more. I won’t get into too much detail, but it was
bloody and, unfortunately for Bluetooth, he lasted a long time.
***
“Hey man,
you’re blocking the door.”
“Oh,
please pardon me.”
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And just
like that I was back in the mall, standing in a stupor with my hand on the
door, my heart trying to thump its way out of my chest. People were moving around me to the other
exits, many shooting me unpleasant looks for delaying them.
I stepped through the exit and into the warm spring sun, fighting a losing battle to get control of my heart. I took a moment to consider what to do, but quickly came to the same decision I always do. I reached into my leather briefcase, feeling for the surgical gloves and claw hammer I kept there for just such occasions. Down the street, I could just see Bluetooth turning off into a gloomy parking structure. Reassured by the hammer’s weight, I started off after him. After all, I’d already seen his future. Who was I to deny it?
Rob Caleval grew up on the Canadian prairies with a hockey stick in one hand and a book in the other. He holds a degree in English from the University of Regina and has worked in the emergency services industry for well over a decade. Between coaching junior lacrosse and wood working projects, he does occasionally find time to write something. His latest work can be found in the upcoming issue of The Freshwater Review.
So here is our last installment of our AI journey exploring the idea of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad wolf being one and the same. All of these are based upon the AI generated art and prompts using NightCafe and then created as posters in Canva. Feel free to check out Part 1 and Part 2 of this exploration if you missed them.
A non sequitur I know, but I couldn’t resist. If you picked up where we left off you’ll get it.
Seriously?! Again with the cropped off head cop out…
Finally! That was a journey. And not even worth the result, in my opinion.
Anyway, here is a bonus montage I made out of a bunch of additional Red Riding Hood prompts for an article that never happened…
Prompts for Montage:
1.) What if Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf were one and the same being? 2.) Her wolf face peering out of her red cloak, fangs dripping with the blood of another victim, lost in the forest and never found. 3.) Little Red Riding Hood closes in for the kill, lunging from her red cloak, her wolf fangs dripping with blood. 4.) I am Little Red Riding Hood. I am the Big Bad Wolf. I am coming for you. 5.) Howling within, the rage sears forth from the red cloak, discarded in the deep woods. Red Riding Hood succumbs to the lycanthropy. 6.) Heaving breaths. Dripping blood. Red Riding Hood is not what she appears. She is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 7.) Her red cloak masks the fangs hidden below the surface. 8.) It starts with a long sighing breath. Waiting. The wolf within stirs. 9.) Red Riding Hood trembles. She succumbs to the lycanthropy. 10.) The wolf bursts forth from within. It takes over Little Red Riding Hood’s mind, her body, her being. 11.) Red Riding Hood howls. She is ravenous with hunger for blood. The wolf within has taken over. Mind, spirit, body. She feasts on the blood of the moon. 12.) Big Bad Wolf Red Riding Hood ravenous blood moon feast 13.) Blood moon beckons. I. Little Red Big Bad Riding Hood Wolf. Freedom howling night curse. 14.) Beware. Bewolf. BeRedRidingHood. Betwixt. Beyond. 15.) I pad quietly as the forest dissolves around me. Red Riding Hood and Wolf, one and the same. 16.) Wolf within howling dark recesses of the mind, Red Riding Hood lost 17.) Red Riding Hood HOWL wolf bane true existence polymorph within-and-without. 18.) Red howl Riding Wolf dark existence brooding within
Continuing our AI journey from last time exploring Little Red Riding Hood herself as the Big Bad Wolf… All of these are based upon the AI generated art and prompts using NightCafe and then created as posters in Canva.
How very… Phantom of the Opera predatory… this is definitely not what I had in mind. Maybe something more cutesy?
Ugh. Maybe not.
Wow, that seems like such a cop out, cropping off the head so you don’t have to depict it. And I don’t want to lose the Little Red Riding Hood reference completely.
So no surprise there, I knew that was too many references to work.
And as promised in Big Bad Poetry, we shall embark on our next AI journey, this time looking at Little Red Riding Hood. I had wanted to depict her as the Big Bad Wolf one and the same, although maybe not so big nor bad. But it just wasn’t happening quite as planned. All of these are based upon the AI generated art and prompts using NightCafe and then created as posters in Canva.
So I actually like this even better than my original vision, it is playful and even a bit serene (especially given the Sinister style). The wolf is just being a wolf. It’s quite lovely, really. But it wasn’t what I had in mind, so I revisited the idea later to see if I could get that result…