2021 English Short Stories

Fruit Baskets

As his breakfast sat going cold, his mind imagined the peaches fighting the pears whilst the grapes were being squashed by the banana's. Like any other morning Rochambeau procrastinated eating his fruit salad. Throughout the last couple of months, he had created a city filled with healthy citizens. Founded in the year 5000, by a kid who has never tasted anything.

As he rolled over the last grape that was squashed by his spoon, he watched as his family one by one placed their fingers into the charging stations turning the light from a deep blood red to a rust orange. It's normal to live as a cyborg these days, the body wears out the brain is capable of near immortality. The new bodies are similar to organic ones however, in all the ways that matter. The cyborgs made great crew for the new spacecrafts too, after all, earth has a head-count maximum that nature can support. 

"01 0011 0111 0101," my mind returned to the real world as I felt a pat on the back from Bot34, his stiff fingers seemed fully charged and his battery glowed a granny smith green; however, ever so often would flicker red, "011 101 0100 0101." Today was the day we fled west, away from the government, it was only last month where I was discovered not to be a cyborg. We were walking in the Oak Tree Museum, a place where all trees left from the 21st century were placed. Weird looks were glanced in our direction the whole time until we got home. He stood stiff and tall, then turned around to tap on the tablet that controlled the fridge. Pixels moved and next minute, a burger arrived in the small slot of silver, I watched as his jaw dropped and the burger disappear into the robot.

I always wondered how the pixels tasted, were they sour or sweet? All I knew is that they tasted better than the fruit that sat squashed in silver metal bowl, probably melted down and created from old scraps of robot parts. Being special wasn't easy, you hear the stories of the past about the baskets that would sit upon the table filled with all sorts of fruits that grew in the neighbourhood - plums, pears and apples for the most part. It was a humble celebration of the harvest autumn brings.

"101101011100111 0101 00 11, Rochambeau, 001 0101 1011 101." I shot a stare towards Bot94 that sat up straight at the charging station. That's when the slight expression changed suddenly, it seemed as though the bead like eyes weren't looking at me but over my shoulder. As I turned around, I was faced with a Bot34, who laid flat on the floor, fingers burning a deep blood red and battery lights flickering.