Purple | A flash fiction story
89 of šÆ

āDid you give him the news?ā Miss Atlanta asked.
āWell, no,ā Coles said, his voice pouring from hidden speakers and filling her office with his nervous stuttering. āI mean, not yet. No.ā It was his first week.
Atlanta paced around her desk, rubbing her thumb and her index finger together ā an old tic. The new guy wasnāt the only one nervous.
This is good news, she told herself. This is good news.
It involved the death of a mother and a child, but it would mean Atlantaās lead robotics researcher would give one hundred percent to the projectā after a mourning period and with the proper incentive, of course. She was tired of listening to him talk about family, anyway. This would put an end to that.
āThank you, Coles,ā Atlanta said in a cold tone. āI will give Layman the news. What a terrible thing to have happened. His wife and son dead. Heāll be devastated.ā
āBut, Miss Atlanta, sorry. Thereās a⦠thereās a thing- thatās not... Iām not saying youāre wrong butā¦ā
She already didnāt like Coles. āWhat is it?ā
āUhm... The boy is alive,ā he said.
She fell on her chair.
āMiss Atlanta?ā His voice called. āAre you still there?ā
There were times in her life as a successful entrepreneur when Atlanta had to make extremely hard decisions. After years of wasting time, she had developed a system. A business exists with one single goal: to generate profits for its owners and stakeholders. So whenever a hard decision would land on her desk, she already knew what to do without having to spend any time with ethics and what-ifs. It optimized her decision-making power, no time had to be wasted.
Her system was simple. She just had to ask herself: what will make more money? That made things easier.
However, she was starting to ask herself how many of those decisions she would have to make to become a villain.
āCan I see him?ā she asked Coles.
A second later the wall of her office was alit with Colesā face, his forehead covered in sweat. He turned the camera and showed her a little thing of a person wrapped in a purple blanket, sleeping peacefully, a thumb in his mouth.
āHis name is Agh,ā Coles told her.
Her eyes were glued to the image. How could such a small thing survive when his mother didnāt? It was a miracle.
Itās not my fault, Atlanta told herself. That woman ran away to The Wastelands out of her own stubbornness. We have only ever had that one conversation and this is what she does. This was bound to happen!
Still, that little person on the wall of Atlantaās office, hugging that purple blanket, made her question everything.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. What will make more money?
āColes?ā she called without opening her eyes.
āYes maāam?ā
āHow many people know about this?ā She rubbed her temples, eyes still closed.
āThe scouts who found them are Atlanta Security,ā Coles said. āThey donāt know who the woman and the baby are.ā
Atlanta took a deep breath and, without opening her eyes, said, āThereās a man who owes me a favor. His name is Dino. Take the kid to him.ā
āWait, are- Miss⦠Sorry, Miss Atlanta. Are youā¦ā
āColes, just fucking do what I said!ā She finally opened her eyes and only now noticed his sweaty face was covering her entire wall again. She tapped on her desk and made the call audio-only.
After this thing was over, she would have to bury Coles in some department where she wouldnāt have to interact with him.
āSorry, maāam,ā Coles said. āI will do it, maāam.ā
āAnd, Coles.ā She was rubbing her fingers together again.
āYes, maāam?ā
āIf you ever talk about this, you wonāt be as lucky as this baby.ā She ended the call before he could answer.
The wall became blank, and then a beautiful view of green hills rolled in to fill the empty space. She just stared at it for a few seconds, and then she cried. She cried thick rivers down her cheeks, like she hadnāt cried in a long time.
Then she stopped, dried her tears, and adjusted her perfectly-trimmed silver hair.
She was rubbing her fingers together again later that day, when she gave Layman the news.

< Saudade | Purple | Stargazers >
Fund a human! Support my writing on Ko-fi.

