“Make love,
not war.”
Genghis Khan*
#quote
Yesterday
I had a bit of difficulty writing a story because of medication side
effects and some seizures so I had to rest. But I got a flash fiction
for ya now!
Life
Of A Selfish Prophet
The Great Bob
could see the future very well. His father found out about his powers
when he was young and soon illegal sport betting became something
quite profitable. And other forms of gambling with more or less legal
validity. The horse races for example. Mother didn't object when it
made life so much easier. Changing things bet on. Nobody caught onto
his powers. They were simply called the luckiest people alive. They
started small and built up a fortune leading into stocks and ending
with a few lotteries.
Because of this
Bob's morals decayed. He was born in the 1960's and lost much empathy
for others as he talent being used for cheating was reinforced. His
parents taught him over and over it's okay to cheat, that only
himself and his parents mattered. That's the way they made sure he
never talked. After all if he used his powers to help others they
would be discovered.
When his
parents died of illness he knew that many things were inevitable. He
found himself to be all that's left. At twenty he was taught to only
care of family. So without his parents he now lived in loneliness.
He sat in his
mansion, obtained from all the betting wealth, looking at window to
the world. He saw a sunny sky falling on a world that he never warned
of the pain. Now it's twenty fourteen and his parents raised him to
never tell the world about the economic collapses, the natural
disasters, or anything else. A bit of warning could help them be
averted. Evacuations could have been done. People could have behaved
differently to change the outcome. Being born in 1980 the man had
visions of wars to come and their causes. He saw the terrorists
attack before anyone else. But he didn't care. As that's what he was
taught.
Today he held a
vision of a natural disaster. He didn't plan on telling anyone
because he didn't care for anyone else. He mostly entertained himself
fine foods or whatever fanciness crossed his mind. But before a fancy
thing could cross his mind his chest began to feel a sharp pain.
He began to
think what it could be, for a few seconds he tried to dismiss it as
something simple and innocent. Soreness or something. But he realized
he was having a heart attack. A bad one. He started rushing through
his mansion.
When looking
through the window he stood on the fifth floor. The phone was on the
first. He didn't bother carrying around a cellphone. No friends or
family to call. And if only he had them. If he lived a life where
someone would have been there by his side. He didn't make it far.
Third floor he collapsed.
“Why didn't I
see this coming, why didn't I see this coming?” He wondered why
whatever force of the other side didn't grant him a vision of his
death. The last vision of the Great Prophet Bob was of an alternate
him. He lived in a much more humble home. He had the heart attack
there too. But a wife helped him get to the hospital, friends
supported him. Children gave him hugs and get well soon cards in
crayons. But this him only curled up and died.
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