Batteries Not Included

By Laura Ware

The Device. A black metal box with three buttons. What is it? The only way to find out is to activate it. But, be careful. Don't let it play you.

Laura Ware's column "Laura's Look" appears weekly in the News Sun (Highlands County). When she isn't writing, she enjoys video games, including Minecraft. She admits to being a recovering World of Warcraft player.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JJ Press
• Release date: Oct 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311423276

Laura Ware

Laura Ware writes in a variety of genres. Her novels are mostly inspirational fiction, although she is currently working on a fantasy series as well. Her short fiction ranges from mainstream to fantasy/science fiction and several things in between. Her stories have been published in a number of Fiction River anthologies, including Past Crime, Last Stand, Editor’s Choice and Feel the Fear. Laura also writes a weekly column for the Highlands News-Sun and her essay “Touched by an Angel” was published in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Random Acts of Kindness in 2017.

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BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED

Laura Ware

BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED

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When Carl let himself think back to that hot July Saturday when he had his first and last experience with the Device (and he always put a capital D on it, it wasn’t just any device, no sir, it’s the capital D Device thank you very much) he always wondered what would have happened if his mom hadn’t seen that small oak vanity standing on the edge of the driveway, holding up the large piece of cardboard with the words GARAGE SALE scrawled on it with big red letters.

But time travel was still the stuff of science fiction and wishes, so of course there was no changing the fact that she did stop, pulling her car over on the edge of the road, the grass under the wheels the yellow brown that comes with hot Texas wind and little to no rain.

Oh, look Carl! she said, shading her eyes with a hand as he reluctantly lay down the battered Isaac Asimov paperback he’d been skimming through and pulled himself out of the car, fifteen years old and all arms and legs as his mom would say. Don’t you think that vanity would be the cutest thing for the guest room?

He didn’t answer, because it didn’t matter what he said, just like it hadn’t mattered that morning when he’d said at breakfast (Cheerios and orange juice for him, coffee and toast for her) he didn’t want to go to any garage sales today.

Maybe Dad’ll go with you, he said,