Pisaries Creator

This might become a novella idea but probably not because I already have an idea for one already and want to see where it goes when I actually make time to write and finish my second novel idea as well in 2025. Of course, this was supposed to be finished in 2023 and definitely 2024 but such is not the case, obviously. After being sick for a week and still having a headache as we speak, time is of the essence next year. Anyway, this flash fiction story started percolating if my brain was a coffee maker as I was weightlifting. For making sense, it probably doesn’t but sometimes you just have to not care even though I do deep down. The continual story of my life: not enough time to squeeze everything in I want to do on a Sunday night.

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It came as no great surprise to me when I received a phone call that AB died from random circumstances. No one really knew what had taken his last breath, but what’s done was done. He had taken his last breath and would not take another one. I was sad for a few seconds but shook it off. I wasn’t related to him by blood or marriage. He meant nothing to me really and the only trait we had in common was we descended from Neandertals.

I don’t know why my brother called me out of the blue on this Tuesday night. I hadn’t spoken to him for a few months and here he was calling me about information I had no way of verifying or caring about. No wonder why we stopped talking to each other after our parents died. Neither of them kept their brains their heads when they were buried. Their brains were donated to sinus. They both suffered from some debilitating newly discovered disease with too long of a name. Being scientists and all, they knew in their hearts what their true purpose in life was and that was not immortality but to question mortality in every way possible.

Their disappointment was the strongest together so when I told them I didn’t want to wear a lab coat and experiment on mice as they once did when starting their careers, they were surprised because my brother had done everything to make them proud. He was not only a scientist but a family man that would be used as inspiration for a Norman Rockwell painting. Instead, they viewed me as a broken bridge, quite unreliable most of the time, and unable to finish anything I started.

Little did they know, I had started my quest for greatness when they were not looking. I thought many times over, you will never understand because you don’t have the tools inside your head for this, but I kept it all inside. I wasn’t as smart as my brother, but I was far from stupid. I was tested once and deemed a genius, but I’m far from the mark of a true definition of genius. Sure, I belong to Mensa but what of it. So does my brother and I consider him a first-class idiot in many ways. He couldn’t remember if a person was wearing glasses or not let alone if the person had long or short hair. He’s not good with those kinds of detailing but shit his mind sure remembers who has wronged him at what time and day of the week, and date of the month.

Anyone can find his way out of paper bag, and then I heard my name call. When I turned around to look in the direction of the man, my face was the last to hit the floor. I’m not sure how that happened. Gravity should be consistent, give you silent clues along the way, but as I was falling, nothing new came to mind. I was lost and stuck in this moment. As another man punched my face, I felt blood coming out of my nose. Great, I thought, another white shirt I’ll have to throw away as I took the punishment. Soon enough, it would be my turn and there’d be hell to pay. When I recognize your voice, you better be ready.