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The following was written from a writing prompt of my own, as part of an offer I made on Jan 17, 2014. This story is for Jay Piltser.

Fan Fiction

The air conditioner died.

Naturally. Well, “naturally” if you could say that in response to the death of a piece of electronic equipment.

She hadn’t the time to address it right now, as she had work to do – she’d committed to finish a batch of art for a book, “More Than Meets The Eye,” by the end of the weekend and while it was only Saturday morning, she had more than enough to do to keep herself busy for the whole weekend.

It’s not like she had anything else to keep her busy, though. She had pretty much turned off her life, outside of doing art for money, since her lover had died. She missed Sean so much… enough! Back to work. She turned to read one of the pages she was to illustrate, but with a small breeze it blew off and across the room. She retrieved it, sat back at her drafting table, and read through the page. She had a pretty good sense of where she wanted to start and turned on her oversized tablet.

When she put her finger to the pad and set the color she wanted to start with, her hair blew into her eyes. “How could she have forgotten to clip her hair back?!” she said angrily to herself. A moment later, clip in place, she sat back down again to work. A few minutes later, the page she’d read drifted onto her pad, blocking her view of her work. Grateful that she was working on a tablet and not in paint, she returned the paper to the rest of the loose leaf book, then put a rock on top of it.

She was appreciating that it was cooler in here than outside, but the way the breeze kept blowing things was annoying. Maybe she should turn off…

She stopped her thought short. The AC was off! More than off. Dead. She walked over to it, just to make sure. Not only was it dead, but it was unplugged, too! She reminded herself that she just did not have time to deal with the AC. Back to work.

All day long it went like that. She would get a little bit of work done, but something in the room would come loose to get in her way or distract her, even things like her hair that she knew she had clipped! And where was that breeze coming from?

As evening fell, still intermittently immersed in her work, she chose not to close the curtains. She was actually making progress. Of course, as soon as she had that thought, a small thud behind her pulled her eyes away from the imagery she was creating. She soon spotted the culprit – a Japanese fan had fallen off a display shelf and landed open on the hearth. It fluttered toward her, giving her yet another of those small breezes she’d had all day.
Another noise, this one familiar but wrong. The curtain was closing without her. She stared over at it and against the darkness of the outside, she could just make out a silhouette. A familiar silhouette. Sean.




Sean was dead. An experiment at the particle accelerator, she’d been told. Dead. Not even a body to bury. Sean could not be closing the curtains.

She looked again, but the curtains were now closed and there were no silhouettes to be seen. She knew it – she was cracking up under the stress and sadness. She sighed. Back to the drawing board, so to speak.

She sat down at her tablet, only to find that the picture she had been working on was gone. In its place, some words…
I’ve always been your
biggest fan!


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