Tag Archives: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Girl’s Dreams

You voted for my admission to your medical college as a joke. I became the first woman to receive a degree as MD from an American college, Elizabeth Blackwell.

I worked as a teacher for nine years to save enough money to attend Oberlin College. I was a talented speaker but women were not allowed to participate in public debating. The college asked me to write the commencement address for my graduating class, but they asked a man to give the address not me, Lucy Stone.

I was first in my class at Columbia and one of nine women in my Harvard Law School class. After I graduated from Harvard I found out that women were not hired by most law firms. During my legal career I fought against gender bias in the workplace. I am the second woman to become a Supreme Court Justice of the United States, Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

I was the first student ever to be a speaker at a Wellesley College graduation ceremony. I was one of 27 women in my Yale Law School graduating class. I said, “human rights are women’s rights and women’s rights are human rights..” I want to be the first woman to be President of the United States, Hillary Clinton.

This post is based on true stories. I am inspired by the possibility of having a woman President. Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is hosted by Priceless Joy.

 

 

The View

Spring is here but there is still some snow on the ground. I take a break after my morning walk and my feet rest on the drifts. At least the sun is out and the view is good. It used to be that I never had time to walk in the mornings because I had a job. Since I was involuntarily unemployed at the beginning of the year, I have a lot of time on my hands, and not a lot of money. It’s a good thing that this bench with a view is free. Looking out over the calm water soothes my spirit. I think I will check those job listings again. Maybe there is one that’s just the right fit for me.

This is Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by Priceless Joy. Image courtesy of Barbara Taylor.

Dark Factory

Too often man becomes clever instead of becoming wise, he becomes inventive but not thoughtful–and sometimes…he can create himself right out of existence.—Rod Serling, The Twilight Zone (closing of “The Brain Center at Whipple’s”)

 

What are we celebrating you ask? I am celebrating my crowning achievement, the full automation of my company. It has taken longer than I anticipated because of a few unforeseen glitches, but now it is done. We can produce all of our products and run the entire business with machines. I no longer have to be concerned about minimum wage, 8 hour work days, sick time, health insurance, or occupational safety. I even save on the electricity needed to keep the lights on. After all, the machines don’t need lights. They can work in the dark.

 

Post inspired by  China is Building a Model Army of Robot Workers by Will Knight, and The Working Class Meltdown by Rick Lowry.

“Approximately 100 million people are employed in manufacturing in China” (Will Knight). The article asks what will happen when they are replaced by robots. I ask what happens to people when they are displaced and unable to find adequate employment again?

This my post for  Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by Priceless Joy

 

Wine Infused Coffee

I just found out I can combine two of my favorite beverages, wine and coffee. I received an email advertising wine-infused coffee beans. I think I will need a large glass or mug of it after reading another article about Universal Basic Income and robots ( taking over jobs). These robots are very pushy and seem to want to take over as quickly as possible according to the article. And the only thing holding them back is the bad PR. The public might not like to see so many jobs taken over by machines, because if their jobs were taken over by robots, they would not be able to make a living. Then they would not have money to survive and buy the products that the robots were making. The author claimed that all this could be easily remedied by Universal Basic Income. Everyone should be given a basic income to survive. Then we wouldn’t care about the robots. I’ll take my large mug of wine-infused coffee now.

Wine Infused Coffee

I am so glad we decided to getaway this weekend. Carmel is one of my favorite places to visit. I love wandering around the village and looking at all the interesting shops and galleries. Just as we turned the corner we spotted this vine covered cottage with a bright blue door. I don’t recall seeing this place the last time we were here, and it looks like it has been here for a long time. We decided to investigate and tried the door. It opened into a small shop. It was filled with a wonderful selection of wines. As we browsed the displays we came across something unusual. There were little packages of whole coffee beans but they were different. The label said the coffee beans were infused with wine. As we looked over the display, the shopkeeper, an older woman, quietly approached us. We were surprised to see a human working in the shop. It had been 50 years since the Total Automation had occurred. We thought humans had been banned from all work. The shopkeepers saw our looks of confusion.

“I am one of The Olders,” she said, “We continue to work in small corners of the world.”

“But your income is provided for with UBI, is it not?”

“We believe that humans have a need to work and we will never give that up.”

We hurried out of the shop. To buy anything made or sold by humans was against the law and punishable by prison.

This is my contribution to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by Priceless Joy.

 

 

The Old Blue Truck

It’s bad enough she painted these eyes on my head lamps. Now what is she trying to do, a root canal? I never thought retirement would be like this. Plunked down behind an old garage with assorted shrubbery growing up through my frame. I know I shouldn’t feel too sorry for myself. At least I still have some color, four tires, fenders and a running board. If only I could tell her about all the work I did in my younger years. I was a hard working truck and hauled many a heavy load for my last owner, the farmer, Mr. Thomas. I brought his wife and baby son home from the hospital. I took his son to the bus when he enlisted in the Army. He never came back from that war. I even carried Mr. Thomas to his final resting place over at the town cemetery. I guess this is better than being buried and forgotten. Maybe I can still be useful after all.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is hosted by Joy of Beautiful Words. Image by Pixabay.com

Miss Maddie’s Hope

Miss Maddie’s spirits were always lifted when she saw the sunflowers along the road on her daily walks. She kept to her walks no matter if it was cloudy or bright, hot or cold. She had the self-discipline she had honed over the years of working in jobs where there was little chance of recognition or glory. Her values dictated that you performed your job to the best of your ability and did not shirk your responsibilities. Too bad her employers did not see things the same way and did not share her values or see the need for any loyalty to her. They made sure she was let go before she could be eligible for any retirement benefits.  The sunflowers had popped up without anyone knowing where they came from. To Miss Maddie, like her irrepressible spirit, they were a symbol of hope.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is hosted by Joy of the blog Beautiful Words. Image courtesy of Sonya-Only 100 Words.

Claustrophobia

The City has a way of closing in, all the cement, asphalt, and buildings. Not a place to catch your breath. Congestion, traffic, and grid lock, you seem to have become immune to it as you go about your daily life. Then you come upon an open expanse that is not developed. An opening onto a natural scene like the wetlands or ocean. You can breath more easily and know what you have been missing. Jenna was so grateful for her condo on the beach. She was not exaggerating when she said, It saved my life.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers in hosted by Priceless Joy of the blog Beautiful Words. Image courtesy of The Storyteller’s Abode.