Another World: 50 Snapshots

By Nick Hayden

Spanning genres from humor to science fiction to everyday life, this collection of flash fiction gives the reader snapshots into 50 different worlds. The stories here were originally published at www.worksofnick.com. Proceeds from book go toward the 7th/8th grade D.C. Trip fund for the school where Nick Hayden is a writing teacher.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nick Hayden
• Release date: Apr 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781370969951

Nick Hayden

Nick Hayden has never known exactly what to write in his author's bio, but he's willing to try. Nick is married to his lovely wife Natasha, he is father to his wonderful son Fyodor. (No, we are not Russian.) Sometimes Nick really loves to write. Sometimes, he prefers to dream about writing. Most times, he enjoys reading things he's already written. Without a doubt, he has to write. He truly believes that fiction is a lie that tells the truth. That is why he writes, and that is why he loves fiction. He tends to read books published before his birth, though he is always willing to make exceptions. He tends to write speculative fiction, though he is always willing to make exceptions. Nick believes in the redemptive sacrifice of Jesus Christ and believes that Jesus is the truth. This may very well show up in his writings, but hopefully won't land like a piano from a third story window. Above all, Nick hopes that something here will inspire you, entertain you, make you think, or simply make you smile. If not, he supposes he'll have to keep at it until something does.

Book preview

1 - Listen to the Beat

The solemn speeches and formal presentations of the podium gave way to the music of the dance floor. Henry watched as the young people leapt to life with the beat blasting from the speakers. The songs were those same played at weddings and celebrations everywhere, decided upon by some secret convocation of DJs. The dancers jumped and shook and gathered in clumps. They stood on chairs and lip-synched I Will Survive. The young girls shouted R-E-S-P-E-C-T. The son of the company president, 12, spun on his back and tried the worm.

Henry watched as the adults began to loosen up, first with slow songs, where young lovers danced no more intimately than the manager and his wife, married for 25 years. Steve and Doris showed off their ballroom dancing. Laughter accompanied the arm motions of YMCA. By now, even those who remembered hearing it new on the radio participated. After a few false starts, more than 50 people moved in relative rhythm for The Electric Slide.

Heaven surely resembled this, Henry thought. The pulse of the music invigorated him; what perfect freedom in the carefree energy of his friends, unconcerned with appearance or position! All that was sad and dull and unfair seemed a far-off dream.

Henry…

How are you?

I’m getting tired.

All right. Let’s go home.

Henry’s wife pushed his wheelchair off the dance floor.

2 - Now We Fight For Real

Johnny Chen struck a fighting stance as the thugs surrounded him. There were ten, maybe fifteen, all masked. Most carried knives. He saw a club, heard a length of chain stretched taut.

He knew why he was here, why he must fight: they had Honey Li, his niece, and he would die before breaking the vow he had sworn to her father. But this was his first real fight. What if I can’t do it?

You gonna fight us all? the leader asked. He was tall, wide, like a professional wrestler.

Yes. There was nothing else to be said.

Three rushed him. He ducked the first knife swing, rotated, knocked the legs out from one. The club came down, barely missing him. He somersaulted away and jumped to his feet. The chain pulled tight across his neck. Another thug punched him in the stomach, once, twice. He managed to dodge the third blow. It landed in his choker’s large gut. The momentary shock gave him the chance he needed. Johnny slipped out of the chain’s grip, jumped, spun, landed a monstrous kick to the fat man’s head.

But then it happened—when he landed, his ankle twisted. Johnny lost his footing, fell backward. His head hit the concrete hard. As the pain came, his only thought was: After all the practice….

Cut! the director shouted. Someone get the medic over here. He rubbed his face, muttering, So much for doing his own stunts.

3 - One of a Kind

She watched as thousands of her kind labored at their creations. She was young and could not participate, though she had tried about a month ago, sneaking into the work area and forming the great chains of liquid into elaborate works of art. The Judges had watched her; she had not noticed their presence until she had finished. Then they had taken the piece she had created, had turned it this way and that. It has already been done, a Judge had declared, and he had broken it over his knee.

She had cried herself to sleep that night.

Afterward, she could barely stand to hear the thousands at their work. But when the wind blew hard, they worked all the harder, and the sound of their work could be heard wherever she tried to hide from it. The wind blew and she began to think again of the smooth material transformed by her touch.

Now the wind was blowing again. She watched for a long time, afraid to do what she wished, knowing that the Judges would come to watch her. Anger and frustration caused tears to come to her eyes. Finally, balling her fists, she stood and joined the adults. Closing her eyes, she envisioned what she wanted to make. Slowly, as if playing a harp, she began to shape it, mold it, grow it.

When she opened her eyes, the Judges were there. They took her art, looked it over, turned it this way and that. She could barely watch. Then a Judge spoke: It is unique. He offered it to her. She took it, tears in her eyes. She could not stop smiling. You are an adult now. Let your beauty join the rest.

She studied her work for a long moment. Then, bending her knees, she heaved it into the air. The wind caught it up and took it away, where it joined the other snowflakes as they descended upon the earth.

4 - The Joining

When the wedding march began, I watched anxiously for her to appear. There she was, coming down the aisle, smiling in that way I knew so well, taking solemn steps…toward me. My heart beat wildly. She glanced at me, almost furtively. All day, I had been caught up in memories of our times together, how as children we had played, chasing each other through the woods nearby, sneaking from our rooms late at night when our parents thought we were asleep. In school, we wrote notes to one another, and I defended her at recess. We had always shared this bond, as if we could understand each other without speaking. From our earliest age, we needed none but each other.

Her eyes shone with tears now as she stopped and waited to be given. I knew what this meant to her, and I think she knew what it meant to me. When we were maybe twelve, before I understood what love was, she made me promise that I would never change, that no matter what happened, I would be there for her. She smiled then as she smiled now, waiting to be given, certain in my promise.

I waited for her to step forward, my heart full of emotion, my head full of the past.

She was so beautiful….

Then she took that step and joined her husband. And I, her twin, her brother, stood at her husband’s side, letting go.

5 - Antidepressant

With quick steps and a skip, Josiah Wellington exited the elevator at the ground floor and hurried to join the throng of business men and women making their way to work. Leaden clouds pressed down on the skyscrapers, making it feel more like night than morning. Dark suits topped with stern faces dominated the streets. The figures of this rapid crowd spoke to the air in front of them, arguing and rattling off figures to their Bluetooths.

Josiah Wellington threaded between his fellow New Yorkers, smiling abstractedly. The newsstand advertised War! on a dozen front pages. Josiah Wellington waved happily to the newsstand owner. The scrolling ticker on the bank next block declared losses in every market in bright red figures. Josiah Wellington began to whistle, lost the tune, and hummed.

Taking a less crowded route, a shortcut he often used, he passed dingy buildings, their windows and signs plastered with triple X’s. A man approached him, old, shriveled, unsteady, his hand held out. Josiah Wellington flashed him a smile, almost shouted Good Day!, and passed with jaunty step.

He entered his building, rode the elevator, passed through the hall, stepped into his office. His secretary, an efficient and severe lady somewhere past forty, glared as he swung his briefcase in a pantomime dance.

What is wrong with you?

What? asked Josiah Wellington loudly.

Get your head out of the clouds and wipe that smile off your face. What’s the matter with you? What’s there to be happy about?

Josiah Wellington put up a hand to hold her off and took out his ear buds. Sorry, couldn’t hear you. Man, this new CD I downloaded is awesome. What’s the matter with you? It’s a beautiful day. Here, have a listen.

6 - Snow Day

She finally got out of bed two or three hours after her husband had gone. Sun illuminated the room. Peering between the blinds, she saw fresh snow glittering in the midmorning light. Putting on her slippers, she took a seat on the living room couch and gazed upon the