Flash fiction first published by A Long Story Short
Officer Davis pounded his fist on the door of
2B. “Charles Miller, open up. Police.”
Officer Scully cocked his head.
No sound could be heard over the blare of the television inside.
Davis pulled his
gun. “Sir, we’re coming in.” With one
well-placed kick, the door burst open.
A thirtyish man
sat in a recliner open-mouthed, chest beneath his unbuttoned shirt sticky with
drool, work boots scattered next to the coffee table, his bleary eyes locked on
the Constant News Network.
Scully waved his
hand in front of Miller’s face. No
blink, not even a twitch. “Ah, geez. Another one.”
“Third time this
month.” Davis holstered his weapon. No threat here – to him or his partner, at
least. “I’ll call it in. Leave the rest
for forensics.” The half-eaten TV
dinner, the man’s fixed look of dread and shock, the stale stench of the
apartment already confirmed Davis’ suspicions: Miller was a loner, isolated
from the world except for the relentless drone of the Constant News
Network. The station reported events,
even weather, with the intensity of an Uzi – ticker rolling nonstop blurbs of
headlines, promising to update regurgitated events, an all-you-can-stand buffet
of kidnappings, bombings, murders, wildfires and floods. The only breaks from the onslaught were
promotions for sponsors’ gadgets.
Davis pulled his
walkie talkie from its holder and requested an ambulance. “Remember when
thought control was just a theme for a bad B-movie?”
Scully blew air
through tight lips. “No newspapers, no
magazines, no books – this guy was asking for it.”
“Probably lost his
thought process somewhere between the terrorist threat playback and the talking
head banter.”
“Someone should
invent an opinion regenerator for poor bastards like this.”
“Maybe someone
already has,” Davis said. “Problem is, whose opinion will it be?”
“Whoever pays to
have it built!” Scully slapped his partner’s shoulder. “Hey, how about we stop at Ebby’s for a
burger after this?”
“Sounds
good.”
The news ticker
flashed a blurb about the city’s innovative plan for a waste-to-energy
plant.
Davis nudged his
partner. “So what do you think of the mayor’s garbage idea?”
Scully stepped
aside as the ER team wheeled in a gurney.
“The mayor has plenty of ideas that seem like garbage, but this one
actually has potential. I’d like to see a few kinks worked out first.”
“What kinks?”
“Just a sec.”
Davis picked up the remote. “Can’t think with this noise.” He pressed the power
button. The face of the sternly concerned anchor blipped to black.
They followed the
ER workers out of the apartment, and Davis shut the door. “Okay, lemme hear
your idea.”