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Tuesday, September 25, 2018

Strange Sci-fi Tales #1 - When Home Is Away From Home [#32]

Inspiration/Prompt: "A Science Fiction story based on the concept of home."
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            He trudged through the seemingly endless factory with the oil can clutched close to his chest. The many robots and machines that filled the factory surrounded him on all sides. Yet, they still failed to register his presence. At this point, he was certain they couldn't.
            The sound of constant production filled the factory to the brim. Yet, it felt empty and quiet to him. He never felt so alone in his life, and desperately desired to reach home. Not that he could, but a man can dream. He ducked into a far corner of the factory, away from the sight of all the machines. Finally, he arrived at a network of pipes.
            "Home Sweet Home," he lied to himself as he began to navigate the pipes. Past the pipes, in an untouched portion of the factory was his destination, his "home." A cozy spot in a dark corner of the factory hidden between the pipes. It wasn't much, a mere twenty feet of living space. It was truly cramped living, but he had no choice. It was this or nothing.
            The space was "furnished" with several large pieces of fabric. Some were in place for comfort, others were used to store his few possessions. The only potential light source was a single oil lamp placed in the corner. Although, it was currently extinguished.
            He gently placed his oil can in the corner and retrieved his lamp. He took a seat on the largest piece of fabric, sat the oil lamp nearby and turned it on. Finally, he retrieved a blanket from the opposite corner and wrapped himself in it. The blanket was stitched together from old clothes and rags but showed minimal signs of wear and tear.
            He laid on the ground, only a thin layer between himself and the cold, steel factory floor. He shut his eyes and tried to go to sleep. He tossed and turned for some time, but never managed to drift off. It didn't feel right for him to sleep here, this wasn't his "home." It was home in a sense, he returned to this place every day, he slept here, he was even born here. Yet, it still wasn't "home" to him, which always made him melancholy, because there was a time it was home.
            It was a long time ago, he wasn't sure how long. Months? Maybe even years? He wasn't certain, he had no time reference in the factory. No sunlight, no seasons, not even a clock. Regardless, back when his "home" was still home a most horrible event transpired one day.
            "They" came, extra-terrestrials, aliens, invades from another world. He didn't really know who "they" actually were, or even what they looked like. All he knows is they came, they saw and they conquered. It was so fast and so sudden he had no time to prepare. At the first sign of invasion, when the alien ships darkened the skies, he hid in his basement. When he next emerged, everything was gone. The people, his neighborhood, the streets, even the top half of his house. All that remained were bits and pieces of fabric, the only thing the aliens never took.
            He had tried to awake his inner survivor and forage for whatever he could find in this now empty world. However, he returned from that venture to find what little remained of his home gone as well. Replaced with a giant sheet of metal that seemed to stretch forever in all directions.
            He remained in the former location of his home for a long time. Forlorn and ready to accept his fate. Yet, it never came. While he remained there, the factory was simply built around him. The robots which constructed the factory never acknowledged his presence. It was only by luck that left the location as a dark, unused corner of the factory. He was thankful for that at least.
            Now he continued his struggle to fall asleep, while the nostalgic memories of home tormented his mind. His home that he desired. The home he grew up in. The home he inherited from his parents. The home he invested so much time and money into just to make it perfect.
            He was still there in a sense. Separated only by several feet of steel. Despite that, nothing felt right. The empty factory was not home, he didn't know what it was really. He had to do something, he needed to something. He wanted to make this "home" to feel like home again. He just wished he knew how.

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This was another story I originally created to submit to a periodical, but never finished. I forget what it was called now, but it was a sci-fi anthology magazine. The original version was meant to be significantly longer, which is part of the reason I never finished it. I got about two-thirds of the way through and simply couldn't figure out how to end the story.
There was a lot more fluff and detail in the original as well. I miss it, but it was a sacrifice I had to make to shorten the overall story for this blog. Maybe one day I'll finish the original and post it here, but that won't be for a long time.
Until then, Read, Comment and Enjoy.

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