The Suspicious Boyfriend

“What the fuck is this?” He said, flinging his hands around.

“You have to calm down now. You really have to calm down.” She replied.

“I have to calm down? After what I caught you doing I have to calm down?”

“And what is it that you caught me doing?”

“You were sleeping with your fucking boss! Damn!”

“You’re out of your mind,” she replied. “Now get out of my way before I push you.”

“Okay, hold on a minute. I saw your boss downstairs, he was obviously coming from the room or something. He was fucking smiling when he saw me. Now I’m in the room and your panties is on the floor and your blouse is on the floor. Tell me, babe, what should I think?”

“I pulled them off for you, idiot. I don’t even know why I try.”

“Babe, hold on. Babe… babe! You storming out naked.”


© Victor Enesi

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Quantum Prim

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“So how do I get to stabilise information in the quantum realm?” I asked Prim.

“First, what’s your name? I don’t even know you.”

“You can call me Vance.”

“Hmm. Okay, Vance,” she paused, “If you want to get things to be stable here, then you have to feel.”

“How?” I asked.

“You need to understand that your emotions are also information. What you feel affects the world around you.”

“I hear that every time in the real world…”

“What do you mean by real world?” Prim asked, interrupting me. “Do you mean to say that my world is any less real than yours.”

“That’s not what I mean, Prim. I just wanted to say that in the world of big things, emotions don’t really matter.”

Prim’s face grew dour.

“That’s sad,” she said. “Can you do this in your world?”

Before I could reply, Prim disappeared.

“What the? Prim, where are you?” I panicked.

I suddenly felt a nudge on my back. I turned back abruptly. I saw nothing.

“Prim, is that you? How are you even doing this?”

Next, I heard her voice all over the quantum space around me. It echoed. I turned round and round and still didn’t see her.

“Emotions,” she echoed.

“Okay, okay, I got you. Could you come back now?”

I felt another nudge on my back.

“Could you just stop doing that?”

I turned and there she was, grinning from ear to ear.

“Your turn,” she said.

“My turn, what? Do you expect me to do what you just did?”

“Just remember, Vance, nothing is impossible.”

“I hear that in my world all the time,” I replied.

“Just remember to be calm. You have to relax your frequency.”

“What does that even mean, my frequency?”

“Grandma explains it better, she taught me everything.”

“You have a grandma in this place? Wow!” I exclaimed, in apparent shock.

I was just in awe of everything. How is it even possible that a family can live here in the quantum world where everything is a billion times smaller? I was filled with anticipation, I just wanted to know as much I could about this world I’ve shrinked myself in.

“So how do we get to her? Do you guys have like cars or something?”

“Hold me,” Prim said.

I held her with questions on my mind.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Ready for what?”

“Aaaaah!” I screamed above my quantum lungs.

It was as if my body was leaving ghosts behind, like I was fading somehow. And we were whisking through this narrow-like tube. It was the scariest thing I had ever experienced.

“What was that?” I asked, panting.

“That, my friend, is quantum tunnelling. It’s how we travel here,” she grinned mischievously.

“And what was that thing happening to me? I felt like I was a ghost or something.”

“It’s called phasing. My goodness, how do you guys travel in your world?”

***

To be continued. Thanks for reading, guys. Quantum Prim is a story that metamorphosed from a previous story, Operation Get My Post Back. I’m as ecstatic as you are about where this is going. Thanks again for reading.

Operation Get My Post Back

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I was writing a post I thought was saved, only for the page to refresh and bring me half of what I wrote.

“No. I can’t take this anymore,” I said.

I took the quantum shrink gun I bought on the dark web, pointed it to my head and pulled the trigger.

In no time, a beam of particles enveloped me and I could instantly feel myself shrinking. It felt uncomfortable at first, little everyday objects becoming bigger than me. But it’s something I had to do to get my post back.

My phone rang. It was Loveth.

“Hello, Loveth, I can’t speak right now, I’m shrinking.”

“Hello, did you say you’re shivering?”

“No, Loveth, shrinking.”

“Hello… hello…”

I couldn’t hear her. The quantum signal modulator was interfering with the cellular network.

By now I was so tiny, I could tell because I had started seeing the things I had never seen before, the things that only existed in biology textbooks.

What I saw next could swallow me effortlessly. It looked like an insect, but a micro insect. I thought of being eaten by a micro insect, where would they find me?

But it was a risk I was willing to take, to get to the world of 1s and 0s, to get my post back. I had written about a thousand words, and half of it just disappeared into nothingness. Google chrome, argh!

The shrinking stopped. I was now in the quantum world. A world that made no sense. Things just appeared and disappeared at will. It was a crazy world, a world without control.

But I wasn’t there to tour, I was there to find my missing post. Posts shouldn’t just disappear from text editors. In the real world, things shouldn’t disappear like this crazy quantum world I found myself in.

I saw a string of information dancing and blinking away. It was my missing post. I just knew it like some quantum instinct.

I made for it. But as soon as I grabbed it, it disappeared and appeared in a different place. I tried a couple more times and the same thing happened. I just couldn’t interact with this world I was in and it was getting me so angry.

“You’re doing it the wrong way.” A shrill voice said.

It was like the whole place became one big speaker.

“Argh!” I screamed in terror, “who are you and how are you even here?”

“Be calm, would you, you gonna mess up the whole place with your emotions.”

“I don’t even know you, who are you?” I asked.

“My name is Prim,” she replied.

“And how did you get a quantum shrinker?” I asked.

“Uh… let’s see. I didn’t!” She chuckled, “Though grandma has told me about it before, it was what–“

“Wait,” I interrupted, “You mean to say you were born here?”

“Yes.”

“How’s that even possible? Are there like hospitals and stuff?”

“Dude, look around you, you’re literally in the land of possibilities.”

She was right, I had forgotten for a moment where I was.

***

Well, guys, just strutting my stuff here. Let me know what you think about the read. Have you ever lost a post while typing before? How did you feel? And should I keep this going?

The Rice Man 2

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When Dave sighted the bags of rice heaved atop each other, four per column, he laughed like a witch flying on her broom across the moonlight. To say he was ecstatic was an understatement. He downright loved big bags of things. Oh, the things he would do to those swell bags.

The last time there was a bag as big was when Dave’s mum was to bake for an event. She bought a full bag of flour and put it in the basement.

Dave would spend hours in the basement, kicking, jumping and punching the bag of flour. He loved the white dust that came out each time he hit the bag.

One time, he jumped on the bag of flour only for the thing to pop. An avalanche poured out from the cut. Dave ran up and pretended nothing happened.

When Dave’s mum found out about the torn bag, Dave suggested it must have been a rat as there are always rats hiding in all the basements in the world.

As Dave was relishing his first kick at the rice bags, his sister, Agatha, barged into the basement.

“What are you doing here?” She quizzed.

“None of your business,” Dave retorted.

“Whatever,” she said, shooting him a suspicious look.

“Phew! Now she’s out. Let the games begin!” he gloated to himself.

Dave kicked the topmost bag closest to him.

“Ouch!” He groaned.

Little did he know that rice bags are actually stiffer than flour bags.

“Not fair,” Dave uttered, “I’ll have to teach you a lesson another way.”

He walked some paces back and ran full throttle at the heap of bags. He slammed into them and the topmost bag rolled over and hit the floor with a bang. He cried out in victory, beating his chest, King Kong style.

“Dave!” He heard his name, faintly.

Mum was calling, it was time for lunch.

Dave squinted at the heap.

“I’ll be back for you,” he said, before jetting out.

“Where have you been, Dave? Your mum has been calling you,” dad asked.

“I was in the…,” he fell silent, “the room, yes, the room,” he continued.

“You lie!” Agatha uttered.

“Shut up,” Dave responded.

“That’s enough,” said dad, “Dave, you will learn to talk to your sister with respect, she’s older than you. Now, apologise to her.”

“I’m sorry,” Dave said reluctantly.

“Dad, he crossed his fingers,” Agatha replied.

“Enough!” Dad uttered, “I will have no more of your squabbling.”

On cue, Mum came in with about a hundred things in her hands.

“Dinner time, boys,” she said as she arranged the dishes on the dining table.

“And lady?” Muttered Agatha.

“Of course, sweetheart, and lady.”

Mum cooked rice with curry sauce, and for some reason, it bemused Dave.

“Care to share with us, Dave?”

Dave tried so hard to swallow his chuckle, like a video suddenly playing backwards.

“Dad, he’s happy because of the bag–“

Dave poked Agatha just has she was about completing her statement.

“Hmm,” dad hummed, and lunch continued.

After lunch, Dave went back into the basement. He resumed kicking the rice bags and jumping on them. It was so much fun for him, to hit the things that couldn’t hit back.

The Rice Man

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When Dave’s parents bought eight bags of rice, it was surely a reason to bring a wry smile to his face.

He watched from his room as two hefty men heaved up each bag from the trunk, holding it at the edges and trudging it through the terrace and into the house.

He counted studiously. One… two… three…

As soon as the men were done lifting all eight bags into the basement, Dave made for the basement with utter delight. He loved big bags of things, because he could chokeslam, kick, and punch them and not get punched back, very unlike his big-bagged bully, Bobby.

Bobby and Dave were classmates. Bobby was obviously ten times Dave’s size. They didn’t call him Fat Bob for no reason.

Dave had always fantasised chokeslaming Bobby ever since they became classmates.

“He’s just too fat. I could do so many painful moves to him,” Dave would tell his sister, Agatha.

“Look for someone your own size, Scrawny.” Agatha would reply.

But Dave wouldn’t go for anything less.

One bright Teusday, Dave decided to sting Bobby. His plan was to pin Bobby to a corner of the classroom, run to the opposite corner, and then charge at Bobby with full speed. He just wanted to make Fat Bob yelp.

After classes, as everyone was eagerly heading out of the classroom, someone cried.

“Fat Bob, today you go down!”

Everyone stopped dead in their tracks. Then they turned back in unison. Dave was at one corner of the classroom beside the bookshelf, and Bobby was about packing his bag.

All eyes were on Bobby, hungry for his reply. He disliked being called Fat Bob. The class knew this one was going to be interesting. They hadn’t seen a callout like that in eons. In fact, the last time there was a callout, it was the same Dave dishing the threats. That time, his target, Julio, was a bit slimmer than him. Dave knocked Julio out and ended up serving detention for a week.

“Go home,” Bobby replied.

The whole class went berserk, jeering at Dave to teach Fat Bob a big lesson.

“Go Dave, go dave…” they sang.

Dave made like he wanted to charge, then he remembered, Bobby had to be at the opposite corner of the classroom for the move to work. He walked up to Bobby and whispered something into his ears.

Bobby dropped his bag and walked to the opposite corner of the classroom, facing Dave.

Dave’s face became sinister. He pushed the wall behind him and ran for Bobby in full might.

The whole class watched with rapt attention.

Dave hit Bobby with freight force.

The whole class went silent.

There was one man standing, it wasn’t Dave, it was Bobby. Dave was on the floor trying to catch his breath while Bobby was standing tall and proud.

“Go home,” Bobby said, before walking through the crowd in raucous roar.

***