record scratch "You probably wonder how I ended up in this situation." "No, I don't. I know pretty well what happened. Also, where the hell did you get a record?" "I'm not talking to you, idiot."

Heck, I want that

Oh wow. I loved this slice of life. You captured an adorable relationship through... Warfare. LOL!

You're a great writer

I DID NOT EXPECT THAT WHAT- That is really good good job :D

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Bingo!

The station was packed with multi-colored folks who clung to pieces of paper. They moved around each other like currents in an Ocean, ensuring they got a good look at everyone’s face. Some lunged into excited conversation and others passed by each other without a second glance. We couldn’t explain it… the connections. But as the memories came back and so did the old loves and friendships. It was all a very confusing and intense process.

I sighed as I fumbled with my own stack of paper. Actually, it was thick enough to be a book. It was bound together roughly and contained details from every life I had lived on Earth. It was strange to be holding all your lives in the palm of your hand. It made each life feel less grand, somehow. As if being able to write everything I had ever done down so neatly took away from their significance. I’m not sure how… it was just a feeling.

My eyes wandered back towards the evermoving current of people and I began to people-watch, something that had become quite a bit more interesting as of late.

It was an odd sea of diversity; each individual being different from the next in both physical appearance and choice of fashion. It only took about two days after the Activation for the fashion of the times to be completely abandoned. Seamstress’ got a sudden influx of orders they had not prepared for as women and men alike felt a deep yearning for a time long past.

I smiled as I spotted a group of women who were flocked closely together as if sharing a very deep secret. They wore clothes that looked straight out of the Victorian period, with purple and green stripes, skirts that were fully, and overly decorated hats. They fanned themselves as they looked around nervously, it seemed their lips never stopped moving.

A few men in the crowd were dressed in armor and carried weapons at their hips. Their eyes were sullen from years of war they just suddenly remembered and they walked with a stride I did not recognize as from “this time”. It was odd to see which lifetimes people cherished and which personality they felt the most connected to.

Most of their lifetimes had been similar, of course, since you only change so much between lives. But one thing it seemed everyone shared was a special connection to one or a small set of lives. It’s hard to explain, but certain time periods and fashions just feel more natural since the Activation. Even I had a lifetime that felt the most “me”.

I glanced down at my own 1920s style dress, long coat, and shoes.

A sudden loud noise and echo alerted me and I looked around. The crowd began to part as a man and woman walked into the room. I rolled my eyes and sat back down. The “Royals”.

These were the most annoying people. When they got their memories back they suddenly remembered the many lives they lived as royalty. It took them only about five seconds after this realization to declare themselves the “rightful rulers” and try to force everyone to treat them like seventeenth century Kings and Queens. And some people were! It was getting out of hand frankly.

Bored with their display my eyes wandered around the small café. It was a smart business model frankly. The café had been set up as a “meeting spot”. Each person can rent out a table for a period of time. While they are renting it they can display four to one hundred lifetimes where there is someone they are looking for. Other people at the station can come and see if they recognize any of the lifetimes. It gave me hope, but somewhere deep down I knew that it was mostly futile.

I glanced around the café at the other miserably hopeful souls who were waiting to be connected with their lost loved ones, just like me. It was weird to be so ordinary in such a unique situation. Everyone, it seemed, was looking for their soulmate.

A waitress delivered my coffee and I blew on it as I watched the people go by and found myself thinking about my Peter.

We’d only been married for three years when he went to war. Our second daughter was on the way, though we didn’t know it was a girl yet. He didn’t want to leave, and I of course wanted him with me. He went missing in action, I’m not sure what happened to him. I suppose I was looking for closure too. I wanted to know where he vanished to.

“Excuse me?” A voice said from behind me and I turned suddenly to meet the kind eyes of an older woman. She pointed to the chair across from me. “May I?” I nodded my head.

“I am waiting for someone,” I said, “But you’re more than welcome to wait with me.”

“Well,” the woman said, leaning back. She was dressed in a style of clothes I did not recognize. It was simple but flowing, it looked very comfortable and was fastened at the waist with a belt. She had many objects hanging from the belt but it was hard to get a good look. “I may not be who you are looking for, but I think you might be happy to have found me.”

I furrowed my brow as I took a good look at her. Nothing about her in this body and life felt familiar, but there was something inside my chest that flickered when she met my eyes.

“Mom?” I said, feeling like suddenly all their air had been knocked out of my lungs. Her eyes creased as she smiled. That was it, there was something familiar about her eyes.

“One of them,” she laughed. “Maybe the oldest one.”

“From…” I paused as I thought about the life that was on the tip of my memory, but still far away. I remembered pure river water, fireplaces outside, the sweet smell of flowers, the wind in my hair, the way I felt climbing trees and fishing with my father…

“It was a long time ago,” Mom said sweetly, placing her hand on mine. “It might take some time to remember. It was also so much different than this,” she motioned to the café and the busy train station. “Out of curiosity, who are you waiting for?”

I blushed slightly and looked at my hands clutching the mug.

“Oh,” I said, “He was a past love… maybe one of my true loves. Maybe my only true love. I lost him in the Great War.”

“I am sorry dear,” Mom said. “I hope you find each other again.” I smiled weakly.

“I remember you telling me to trust in Mother Earth,” I said, “The language was different… and so much else is foggy. But I remember you saying that life is like a river. We can only control so much. Sometimes we are in calm waters, others we are in rough conditions. But we’re always flowing forwards and learning on the way.” Mom’s eyes filled with pride.

“I’m so happy you remember,” she said then added, “My daughter” in that old language fondly.

Mom’s eyes moved over my shoulder and her eyes softened. She handed me a piece of paper and kissed my hand as she stood up.

“Let’s catch up sometime soon,” she said, nodding to someone behind me. “I think you two might have some stuff to talk about.”

I turned, Mom’s paper still clutched in my hand, and saw him, and knew him right away. He was different in this life, taller and with darker features, but he was my Peter. Tears filled my eyes and I jumped up and wrapped my arms around him. He dropped the flowers I didn’t realize he was holding and spun me around. The people in the café clapped and whistled as my feet hit the ground.

“Peter,” I said, touching his face fondly. “It’s really you.”

“I told you I’d always come back to you,” Peter said sweetly, “I’m just sorry it’s been so long.”

"Hey man, uh, funny story. Remember when you said that I shouldn't try using the pitching machine at it's fastest setting? Well, I tried using it on it's fastest setting anyways and, um, to put it lightly... we have a bigger problem now."

That’s the translation

"You will meet us here in ten years at 6:00 AM on this very day, or else you will be abandoned here for the rest of your days within the confines of Flavor Town internment. Attempts to escape will be met with your total destruction at the hands of the Flavor Town Perimeter Guard, and any attempts of outside communication will be blocked. You have earned ten years, prisoner, and your sentence starts the exact moment you stop off the barge. You will be given no currency or aid. If you want to be free, survive."

The warden sighed, lighting her cigarette.

"Welcome to England."

The guide quickly beckoned us closer.

"If you look now, you can observe an interesting phenomenon called 'death.' Entirely practiced only by lifeforms originating from the planet designated as Earth. Scientists have been researching the phenomenon for eons, but it is not yet known why these lifeforms participate in this peculiar activity."

I craned my neck further to get a glimpse of the humans. There were eight of them standing in a circle, around one singular human lying on the floor. The lone human was of the sub-species female, and seemed to be performing their respiratory functions with noticeable difficulty.

The guide began again. "See how they gather around the one who they refer to as dying? See how it resembles our ancestor's very own Egru'tar?"

I nodded. The Egru'tar was our traditional 'religious movements.' While it was done by every member of my species in days of old, only the devout and the First still practice it.

"Because of this, it has been speculated that 'death' is a religious tradition. It has been debated that dying is actually an act of supreme worship, and that all earthlings are required to do it at some point. Interestingly enough, when a human has finished dying, all their bodily functions cease to operate in a desired way. Including brain activity."

An audible gasp rippled through our group. One member piped up, "But how is that possible? Surely their soul cannot leave their flesh?"

The guide shook one of their heads, "It still is not known how this occurs. But that seems to be the case. After they have finished dying, they cannot move, talk or think. They are just hollow...empty, so to speak."

"Then why would the earthlings want to do it?" Someone else asked.

"Some would do anything to get closer to their gods."

As the guide spoke that, the lying earthling ceased all of their movements. The other earthlings began to cry out, a sharp and hollow sound that seemed to pierce the air. I shivered as the noise flooded my olfactory receptors.

The guide looked at them. "Crying. Another religious observation practiced by the earthlings. I will tell you about it now."

Heh I love it

"Can some please take that love struck vampire out of the dammn court room"

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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I think the twist is that it’s actually a duck, and ducks talk, and the duck’s crocodile buddy, who can also talk, saved him.

So we don’t know if the animals are ‘normal’ animals, but they are both talking and it’s fun cause it sounds like they weren’t gods or immortals etc just a fed up duck

It's been 16 minutes bro

i'm glad you liked it. :)

No, and I don't like that show. From what they said about Elon Musk they have very, very poor standards for what information/misinformation they repeat on their show.

I didn't get the ending, could you clarify?

Thank you!

My War

​

How many roads have these boots walked? How many shores have these eyes seen? I've walked, I've ran, I've fought, and I've lost - for nothing at all.

Younger men thought it adventure. Feed the fire! Heed the call! For anything we'll fight, for nothing we'd fall.

At the end of things, love I've found. Not for glory, or fighting, or younger ambitions set abound.

I've found quiet - the peace of my small town.

The roads I've walked fade to dreams - in them I'll always be bound.

I cherish this peace. I cherish the end that I've found.

​

[WC: 97]

Life of ramen.

Sometimes they catch fire, that's why there are disclaimers

A quick fix I would recommend would be that people say it is. I mean, people use this argument all the time today. You could then dismiss the claim as nonsense but lead into how the event is still strange and has the scientific community in hot debate about how it could happen. If humans are good at anything besides waring with itself it is asking "but why?"

Just a minute