“We can rebuild him, we have the technology.”
All The King's Horses And All The King's Men* #quote
Proverbs are there to impart wisdom. I wonder what Pronouns impart?
Anyway onto the flash fiction!
The Postal Postal Worker
There exist occupation hazards of many kinds. Burning for Firemen
and Firewomen, animal attacks for zookeepers, large machinery going
haywire for construction workers. But for postal workers like Hanna
they dealt with insanity. At least the ones that had to deliver to
the neighborhoods of elder nightmare gods. Beings such a Cthulhu or
anything else that lurked in places with debatable physics and
geometry. Unfortunately for Hanna, Cthulhu frequently ordered things
online, unlike the sleeping monsters of the deep, and her route went
through the cities with names unpronounceable in human languages. So
she delivered her mail, her sanity being worn away every time she
brought Cthulhu another impulse buy.
If you ever see a dreary postal worker with a twitching eye, you
don't need to wonder why they're stressed. It's not that they missed
their morning coffee, or the fact that someone's dog chased them.
It's because their route took them through a part of the universe
that tears parts of people's minds asunder and makes them go slightly
postal.
No comments:
Post a Comment