The Cleansing 4 – Chapter 1 continued

This is an interesting idea I had of weaving myself into this story. While it is in some ways a ‘tall story’, and sci-fi tale of intrigue, it is also a social comment and political satire.

Completely unsuspecting of the alien operation taking place in the sky above him, Ron Forsythe sat at his desk straining his brain, striving to create a few neuronal sparks. He needed a story, an idea, something to whet his imagination.

Ron Forsythe sought to write Sci-fi in order to shine a light on the human condition. Sci-fi was a vehicle; a canvas without boundaries. He could spread his thoughts in stories that brought human life into focus. In his own little way Ron sought to change the world for the good. Except there were no sparks today. The ground was sterile. He was not enthused by any great illuminatory idea, something to trigger his neurones into action, pique his appetite and set him struggling to catch up with his thoughts. The page remained blank.

Morosely he sat at his computer waiting for the ideas to coalesce, searching for inspiration. He opened his web site to check on the post he had put out that morning. A paltry seven hits. He sighed. His shoulders slumped. He checked his mail. Three new posts. One told him that the post he had put out could not be shared. One offered him a cruise to the Caribbean that he could not possibly afford. One was an automated response from someone he did not know informing him that they’d liked his last post.

That was it. It was utterly deflating. An hour putting together a post and one single like. Telling himself that it did not matter, to keep plugging away, he checked his facebook page. Eleven people he really didn’t know had their birthdays today. Did he want to wish them a happy birthday? No he didn’t. Feeling even more miserable he checked his book sales. Nearly halfway through the month and only three books sold. He’d made £3.92. He peered at the data with furrowed forehead and pursed lips willing it to change. Stubbornly the data resisted his wishes and refused to throw up new sales. Ron decided to check Amazon for signs of more reviews. Same old story. No new reviews to cheer him up. He toyed with rereading the old familiar ones but could not be bothered. Idly he clicked on the newsfeed. He perused the clickbait – wars, chemical pollutants in your own home, a cat with two heads, goats up a tree, why the Western world is decaying into decadence, how to live longer, six new superfoods. Same old same – hardly different to yesterday and the day before. Nothing grabbed him.

He went back to that blank page. Alien Resurrection. At least he had a title. Then he was beset by doubt. Had the Alien franchise released a film of that name? If they had could he use the same title or was it copyrighted? He didn’t have a clue. He was tempted to check on the net but couldn’t be bothered to do that either. He was in a strangely apathetic moody. Nothing seemed worthwhile.

With one last glower at the blank screen he rose and headed for the kitchen to make a coffee Ron was sorely in need of stimulation, anything. If only something unusual, interesting or unexpected were to happen – something to throw him out of this cloying lethargy. Nothing ever happened around here. Life was boring.

Unseen, above him, a massive shielded H-craft, having travelled through hyperspace from the far-reaches of the galaxy, was silently going about its business assessing human beings, sorting them and slotting them into three groups.

Ron sullenly glared at the kettle as it took an eternity to boil. He peered out the window up towards the slate-grey skies idly watching the rain dribble down the window pane. Only another three gloomy months until Spring. Everything was so lifeless and uninspiring. Nothing interesting ever happened. Ron felt like he was living in the dead zone. King Midas in reverse, every single thing he touched turned to shit. Perhaps he should give up trying to write. Nobody cared anyway. What was the point?