Emote.Tech.Con

By Cynthia Nelson

Join Abby, a targeted individual, on a bizarre quest to prove her sanity to herself and her family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cynthia Nelson
• Release date: Feb 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215987926

Book preview

For Jody James Morris,

This book is dedicated to Targeted Individuals worldwide.

Keep up the good fight or flight!

Super Center

Abby Davis and the rest of the town stood in a stagnant checkout line which was growing at an exponential rate behind them. The shrieks of an infuriated toddler emanated from a nearby candy display. The sharp shrills whistled directly into her brain, bypassing her ear canals altogether. Cringing, she crept her cart another inch forward.

Oh my! It sounds like someone isn’t a happy camper, the silver-haired lady ahead of Abby declared to the gentleman standing next to her. He didn’t seem to notice.

Oh my god, would you look at this fucking line! We’re going to be here all damn night! a man complained from somewhere.

Abby leaned into her cart, wishing she could summon a clerk to open one of the two empty lanes on either side of her. She picked a pink Bic lighter and a cold Dr. Pepper from the impulse area as she waited her turn.

After questioning the prices of just about everything in her cart and changing her mind on a few others, the silver-haired lady completed her purchase and slowly rolled her cart toward the exit. The venerable-looking gentleman patiently waited for her.

After what seemed like an eternity, Abby’s bags of garden soil, manure, various garden plants, and the bouquet of pink carnations she had picked for her father’s grave all managed to make their way to the scowling clerk, who was most likely overeducated and underpaid. That described most people in the area, after all.

Have a safe Memorial Day, the clerk said with a forced smile. She methodically ripped the paper from the terminal and handed it off to her. Abby’s golden ticket to leave the building.

Thanks, you as well, Abby replied with a genuine smile as the clerk reminded her this was the weekend she had been waiting for all year. Last year’s gardening season Abby had spent indoors, pampering a new ACL constructed from a piece of stolen hamstring meat. She was excited to get back to gardening but couldn’t say the same for Colorado’s slippery ski slopes!

She tossed her bagged impulse buys into her cart and made her way toward the elderly exit guard, ticket in hand, ready for his inspection.

And how are you today, young lady? he asked. His smile was warm and sincere, and his eyes contained just a hint of orneriness.

I’m good, thanks, and you? she replied.

I could complain, but nobody would listen, he said with a wink. Sure hope you get round to finding something to do this weekend, he joked, glancing at the items in her cart.

I’ll do my best, she promised with a grin.

You have a safe holiday now, young lady, he said as he handed her back the inspected receipt. Come see us again.

I will, thank you. And you have a good Memorial Day as well.

She wondered why safe is the word everyone uses for long weekends and holidays. Why don’t people tell each other to have a fearlessly fun Fourth or a dangerously exciting New Year? Do they say that to everyone, or does she just look accident-prone? She pushed her cart through the first set of exit doors. The beeps and dings of consumerism faded. As the second set of doors opened wide into the bright sunlight, she thought she heard someone call her name. She looked around but recognized no one.

The parking lot was congested with every car but hers. She had been in that checkout line so long that her vehicle may have driven itself home. Where in the hell did she park? She pushed the heavy cart of crap through row after row of parked shiny vehicles. She was red with embarrassment, or was it just unusually hot in southwestern Colorado for this time of year? She finally spotted her dirty blue sedan in the next row in the same spot where she had parked it.

She heaved the fifty-pound bags of garden m aterials into her trunk, proud of her ability to still do so. She had never weighed over one hundred pounds in her entire life except when carrying her now-adult children.

She secured her various plants in the backseat and then rolled her empty cart to be corralled with the others. She grabbed the bag that she hoped contained a cold beverage and headed back to her car.

Abby! She heard a voice echo through the lot. She looked around, hoping to see someone she knew. A friend? A co-worker? From what direction had it even originated, she couldn’t tell. She felt the red blush back to her cheeks. That’s twice now, she thought. She glanced at the lot, but all she could hear were the hurried people and their indistinct chatter.

What the hell? she thought out loud as she slid behind the steering wheel. Am I hearing things? Maybe there’s another Abby. She liked this thought much better than the one accusing her of hearing things. After all, this wasn’t the first time this week—or even this month—that Abby thought she’d heard something that wasn’t there. Several weeks ago, she’d opened the front door when she heard a delivery truck idling out front, but nothing had been there. And on Tuesday, Abby had called her friend Paige because she swore she’d heard her outside the library’s entrance. But Paige told her she wasn’t anywhere near that part of town .

She opened the soda, the contents immediately foaming over, bubbling down the steering wheel and onto her lap.

Shit! Oh Shit! she cried out. No way in hell was she going back into that circus! She plucked a used lunch napkin from the floorboard and used it to wipe her hands. She dabbed what was left of the eroded paper on her steering wheel.

Beep, beep, beep!

Honk!

Abby looked up and adjusted her rear-view mirror. Already two cars vied for the not-yet-empty space, and she deliberately took her sweet time while buckling up.

People! she muttered, backing out carefully to avoid the two cars behind her.

What a damn rat race! she said to herself as she guided the car from the chuck-holed lot.

Twenty-Five Miles From Nowhere

Stoplights and traffic flowed surprisingly smoothly as Abby meandered out of town. Sunlight spilled from the clear blue sky, glistened through the fully leafed trees, and sparkled in the river beneath them.

Abby extinguished her half-smoked cigarette and instead opted for the fresh mountain air breezing through her open windows. The sweet aroma of Colorado filled her lungs. Her heart and mind were filled with appreciation and gratitude for her world. She felt blessed to live here. Blessed to be alive.

She switched on the radio from the button on the steering wheel. It was sticky from the Dr. Pepper mess from earlier.

"Bad credit? No problem! Everyone is pre-approved! Drive home in your brand-new Chevrolet today!" a confident-sounding man crowed to the region. He didn’t mention the full coverage