ALONE • by James Bloomer

“I just want to be alone!” screamed Katie.

Then she was sitting in a meadow on the side of a mountain, knees up to her chest, wind blowing her hair, the valley below like a child’s play mat.

“Oh,” said Katie. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and looked around. The meadow was silent and empty. She felt that she should be scared. Instead she just felt stupid.

“It’s not easy, you know,” said Katie to the mountains. She smiled and for a while watched the clouds scud by.

“I get the point,” said Katie eventually, “I don’t want to be alone forever. Just. You know. Some space would be nice now and again.”

Everything faded to white.

“Thanks,” said Katie.

Then she was home.

James Bloomer has a PhD in particle physics (he worked at CERN) and has probably forgotten more physics than most people ever learn. He writes code for a living and words for his sanity, and runs a SF blog, Big Dumb Object.

Rate this story:
 average 4.5 stars • 2 reader(s) rated this

Every Day Fiction