Miscellaneous Short Stories, and Other Stories by Timepool | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

Black Jam

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~Written 2021/3/8, in an abyss

 

A little light shone at the end of the tunnel. Not an incredibly bright or impressive light, mind you— but a light nonetheless. It was the first that Grace had seen in a very long time. Wait. Was it a long time? They thought. Was it perhaps no more than an hour? A day? A week? They shook their head. All that they knew, was that however long it had been— be it a second or a century— it had been too long.

Grace stood up, and the ground beneath them made a sorrowful shnuuuck as they peeled themselves from it. If their skin had stuck to the ground enough to make such a sound, it must really have been a long while. Or, the floor was simply sticky. They reached down and gingerly poked the floor with an outstretched finger. Then, they pulled back. This time the ground make a quieter shug sound as the finger escaped its weak grasp.

In the dim light it appeared almost as if they were standing in a sea of black jam. Seemingly annoyed with this observation, the ground began to vibrate. Bubbles of various sizes rose to its surface, and popped silently. Some seemed to contain foreign, yet familiar, objects. One contained a worn history book, another held a bright pink sticky note with what appeared to be a grocery list— everything but "don't forget milk" was crossed out— and yet another brought forth a little silver pen. Grace couldn't shake the thought that these items were somehow tied to who they were, but wasn't sure how they did so.

A particularly large bubble formed in front of them, yet seemed empty. It popped, silently like the rest— though Grace imagined that it would make a satisfying pop if they could only hear it. With it, a memory surfaced; Grace now recalled that they weren't supposed to be here. They looked towards the light, which flickered briefly in acknowledgement. They stood silently for a moment, before Grace finally took a step towards it.

The light flickered again, this time more urgently. "I have to go." Grace thought they heard. "I'm sorry." It continued, before flickering again— and disappearing into the darkness. Somewhere in the void, another bubble popped. Grace recalled...what did they recall? There was something important they had to do, they were sure of it.

Grace laid back down in the jam, and closed their eyes. "If only," they whispered quietly to themselves, "I could remember what the little light was."


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Mar 13, 2021 13:59 by J. Thorne

Uh oh.   I'm sure there are worse things than being unable to remember why you're apparently stuck in a room full of likely-not-jam; but APRA being what it is, there's probably not many.   Kinda surprised an Agnew Sr's coupon (or part of a banana peel) didn't bubble up from somewhere. Those buggers seem to be everywhere!

Mar 13, 2021 18:30 by Grace Gittel Lewis

Oh haha, none of the stories in here are actually tied to APRA! They're their own things entirely, I just can't post them without technically tying them to a world.

Mar 14, 2021 06:13 by J. Thorne

Funny, because this one fits SO well!   I love the way we're still disoriented, with no real idea what the heck has happened here at the end of the story. It's that fun kind of scared where your imagination gets to go nuts drawing its own conclusions

Mar 14, 2021 06:43 by Grace Gittel Lewis

Thank you! It just felt right, that way.