Welcome to Hot Potato!
8 writers over 16 weeks writing 1 short story
Today’s first fortnightly instalment, features writer Ben Cooper.…who is starting the whole project off!
The robo-girl sat on the greyed splintered bones of the pier. Rivulet of rust stained her face ‘n sand had settled in her innards. Something in her stirred, something silently called, urged her forward. Time had sanded away her eyes, but her memory banks held. The carousel horses lay on their sides, but to her they still galloped ‘n happy music circled them. For the robo-girl he had been gone for a nano-second, she could still taste his warm lips, but paths bit into the ancient broadwalk from her feet. The sea had faded her color, but her metal ‘n Flesh held. She leaned against the remains of the Ferris wheels where a tree once stood ‘n sang. Keep it down the Raccoon growled from her nest in a seat. Why do you even bother a Squirrel chattered from a rooftop, she never listens. The robo-girl wandered away ‘n her holograms painted the sagging walls of the pavilion with life . Robo-hallucinations. A hundred years since a human voice heard. The robo-girl could hear him, “Step right up, knock down the bottles ‘n win a prize!” The bottles still stood ‘n he was a skeleton buried. The People of Blood, left long ago to spread the stars when their world held no more amusement for them, the fool stayed. That’s what they called Tom, but he was happy ‘n wasn’t alone, he had his girl ‘n a whole world to call his own. They were happy. The Robot-girl walked through the funhouse, through the shards ‘n sand her feet ground the mirrors into. Is she dreaming or is she remembering the Swift wondered. Is there a difference the Swallow cheeped from the rafters. Back when her memory banks were pristine, she smashed all the mirrors of the funhouse after he said goodbye to her with his last breath. With no updates for her head it was full of glitches ‘n bugs. She had forgotten he had left her ‘n she lost her name long ago. Her creaking limbs echoed through the cave that was the arcade, it once sung with pinball machines ‘n children’s shouting. Now the Rat children giggled at the silly clumsy creature crashing through their home. The Owl hooted them into silence ‘n bowed at the Robo-girl. Owl’s memory was long, but Owl Legend was even longer. She was the last half of The Lovers. The Robo-girl walked through the beginning patters of rain, through the softening mud. To her it was a fine summer’s day. She picked a non-existent flower ‘n breathed in deeply ‘n smiled. The Robo-girl gently swayed to music only she could hear, crashing through bramble up to a windmill to recharge. The Seagull cawed with laughter at the broken toy. The Dove squawked at him to shut it ‘n cooed with regret, she had lost her mate. Full the robot girl wandered back to her haunt ‘n the birds resumed their discussion of The Wind. Why doesn’t she leave for another world the Crow child wondered. The past has blinded her, she can’t see us the Crow said to her chick. When the People of Blood left ‘n flared across the universe like a virus, the world they left behind took wing.
Hi I’m Benjamin A. Cooper, okay at writing, terrible at writing bios ‘n very happy to be a part of this project.
Ben's text was passed to Gail yesterday. The next instalment of our short story will be on Monday 13th May. It will be exciting to see where Gail takes us! The writers are collectively and progressively taking up the structure of beginning, middle and end. The writers can take the story wherever they want. >>