posted on Feb, 22 2004 @ 11:19 AM
A very short, "what-if" kind of story I came up with one day... please let me know what you think via replies or U2U.
For months now, the War had raged on overseas. Every day, the smiling, comfortable newscaster would appear on the television and tell the smiling,
comfortable American public about the military’s most recent victory, and everybody that mattered was quite happy with this system. The War was just
that: a thing for newscasters to talk about, and for journalists to write about. As long as it stayed far enough away so as not to infringe upon the
comfort of the average American, it was more or less left to its own devices.
The man had been sitting in his chair all day now, quietly contemplating first a newspaper, then a thick novel, and now the various thoughts that
meandered through his head. He was a peaceful man, and disliked the War entirely. This, for the most part, had been the subject of his recent
ponderings. Being of a philosophic bent, he found it his duty to suffer the psychological brunt of the War while the average citizen blundered
obliviously through life, insulated from dark thoughts such as these by a thick, consoling layer of ignorance. His knowledge of the state of the world
did not bother him, though; he knew it was his destiny to rely on thought in a world of action, and he accepted this fate quietly.
However, in one sudden, unbidden burst, the tranquil air that filled the man’s home was disrupted. He leapt from his armchair triumphantly, quite to
the chagrin of the gray tabby cat that had been snoozing lazily on his lap. Coursing with the thrill of epiphany, he shouted, to no one in particular,
“I’ve got it! I’ve finally got it—the answer to all our problems! It’ll end the war! Why, it’ll end all wars!”
Grinning tremendously and shaking with excitement, he snatched up the receiver of his underused telephone and began to dial furiously. His finger
punched out the first number he thought of, that of the local newspaper’s publishing headquarters.
A female voice, sounding irate and somewhat fatigued, answered. “City tribune. Can I help you?”
Excited to the point of panic, he replied quickly, “Yes, get me the editor! I have an idea—a marvelous idea! Finally, a solution to every problem!
The woman on the other end of the line sighed crossly, and the man heard the click of a changing connection. Another person answered in a thoroughly
businesslike tone. “Yes, this is the editor. Can I help you?”
The man with the idea nearly choked from sheer exhilaration. “Yes, of course you can! I finally have the answer- the last answer we’ll ever need-
it’s perfect- it’ll end the war, and all we have to do is—”
And then the Bomb fell and silenced him forever.
[Edited on 22-2-2004 by Xenographer]