Monday, June 22, 2015

Today's #flashfiction Kegan's Visions

“I've got your back.”
Brutus* #quote

Today I planned something devious. Actually I didn't, I just wanted to use the word devious because it's a fun word. Deeevvviouuuussss....Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Kegan's Visions

        “Tomorrow a man named Jared Waters will accidentally staple on his fingers at work. I know his name because I see his name tag in my vision.” I paused and looked directly at the camera, “And if your watching this show I know that worse accidents will happen.” I doubted he did. My show waned in popularity in the most recent years. At first once it was proven I could predict the future people tuned into “Kegan's Visions” nearly religiously and I built a small fortune. But an inability to control my visions left me boring when even the novelty of predicting the future wore off for many. I couldn't choose to predict things people were interested in. Without important predictions most people thought of me as a boring middle-aged man in a suit with an awkward face and bad showmanship. My assistant host, Jennifer, with her beautiful charcoal skin, bright smile and charisma worked hard to keep the show entertaining.
       I never lied about a prediction to boost the ratings, but whenever an interesting prediction occurred people jumped right on it and everyone flipped their channels to every detail. Though really those mostly involved the weather. If something involving the future of a celebrity big or small, big ratings for sure.
       People have told me I must feel very important being able to tell the future. I once predicted a disaster, I felt like a hero then. But after a sinking feeling of worthlessness filled my entire body. I knew I existed as just a messenger for some power I didn't control.
        I walked along one day to see a young man in the park with a sketchbook. I saw an incredible drawing of the tree in front of him but for some reason he began to scrawl over it angrily as if it was some sin of his. He flipped through his notebook, as if to find a new page, and I saw more quality work with angry scribbles on top. Some sort of doubt in his mind made him hate his art.
       I approached him and he looked at me saying, “You're the man who can see the future, from T.V.”
       “Yeah,” I told him, “And in your future I see that if you accept the quality of your work and improve on it instead of just scribbling it away you'll become a great artist. Maybe not famous, that part's fuzzy, but great.” His eyes became full of life and I continued through the park saying goodbye.         There I obtained a bit of power over my ability with my lie. Well I lied about it being a vision, not necessarily that it wouldn't be true. It felt great to give a prediction of my choice, but I should be careful of making this any sort of habit.   

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