Flash Fiction: Chair Movement

Today’s story was inspired by Flowbee Fear by Hector E. Sevilla Lujan.

The chair halted suddenly and Malati nearly rolled off. She grabbed at the back cushion to pull herself onto the seat.

“Stupid walker,” she said, slamming her hand into the seat’s fabric. The chair had stopped in the middle of a field of talking grass, and the sun beat down on the reflective faces of the viral machines. It was also baking her bare skin, and she wished she had taken up the parasol’s offer to trade recipes for its service. That or had traded the fox for another shirt or top instead of just outright selling the sweater.

Malati laid into the back of the chair and debated what to do. The machine wasn’t moving and with those blades covering the ground she didn’t want to step off. Talking grass wasn’t typically lethal, but it was demanding of time from the people it captured. If someone didn’t come along once she was nabbed, she’d starve before grasses this far out was done talking.

The six spiderlike legs of the chair had come to a complete halt. The seat was quite wide, so she was able to pull her knees up and then lean over the side to look at the chair’s workings. She brushed her hair out of the way when she leaned further down to look under the seat and saw the problem.

“Hello, Bee,” Malati said. “Why are you here?”

The little machine had connected itself to the chair. It was shaped like a real bee, although larger and obviously mechanical. Its wings weren’t the translucent ovals they should be. Instead they were a set of four propeller blades that spun moment to moment.

“You need to get out of there,” she said. Malati reached for the robot but couldn’t get her hands on it. The mechanical bee’s wings fluttered and Malati gasped. She pulled back her hand and looked at her finger where the blades had cut her. A thin line of red was forming on her skin.

“That it,” she said. Sitting back up, she tugged at the side of the seat. The seams here were too tight for her to pull at, but she needed something to reach that bug. She looked to see if there was anything around the chair but only the cords of the talking grass were in reach. Those wouldn’t serve her. Malati looked down at her top and sighed. She really wished she had traded for something from the fox as she pulled the strings on her back.

Cloth whip in hand, she leaned back over the side of the chair and checked at the Bee was still there. She could now clearly see where the bee’s back legs were keeping the chair from moving forward. If she could just dislodge it she’d be on her way. Her hand came back and she swept the bikini top at the robot. It snagged perfectly on the thing’s body. Malati yanked as hard as she could and was met with a tearing sound in the cloth. The chair lurch forward.

Pulling back the bikini top, she groaned. It had ripped across one of the squares of fabric. She fashioned it on as best she could and then leaned forward against the back of the chair. She wanted to avoid a total sunburn now that she was moving again. She’d find something else, although clothing in this mechanical kingdom seemed a rarity. She wondered if that fox with pants would be the only one she met with clothing.

A few years ago I was working on a concept world with strange mechanical creatures, living toys, and dark magic and science. A world where humans were rare and mysteries sprung up like just lost dreams. Seeing the painting today reminded me of that world, and so I wanted to share the piece as if the image took place in that reality. I don’t know if I’ll ever explore that realm in a longer piece in the future or not, but it’s always fun to revisit strange worlds.

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