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Radioactivity: Livermore

Radioactivity: Livermore

Posted April 14th, 2019 by Gracithe1andonly

by *Snow*
in wardly searching

April 15th, 2019


President Livermore was unstable. She knew it. You couldn’t become president of a struggling country and deny your own failing mental health.

Her beloved island was in the midst of what seemed to be the slow death of their economy and thousands of little crises, some related to the depression, some unrelated. One of those crises was the corruption of her own government. The people were mostly of the opinion that she was no more than another crooked politician, and in figures of money accepted from companies for her actions, they weren’t wrong. What they couldn’t possibly know was who gave her money, why they offered it, and why she accepted it. Every cent of it went to training the police force (to deal with the skyrocketing crime rate) and to education (to try to prevent future, similar crises.)

But as of right now, her measures, both with money and with vetoing most of the legislation’s foolish, shortsighted laws had borne no fruit. As of right now, she was looking over the strange scientific reports of new physical repercussions of stress and not really seeing them. Something to do with a theoretical doubling of mind and doubling of body. If the research was correct, that doubling, whatever it was, would affect stressed politicians just like Livermore first.

She shook her head and looked at the clock. It was 1:16 AM, and she had to be up by 5:00 tomorrow to meet with…with…an ambassador? Someone of that sort. She had written it down on the planner and would read it when she woke up. For now, she thought dully as she took off her uncomfortable shoes and uncomfortable suit and let her uncomfortable bun down, she was too tired to remember.

She didn't wake up in time for her meeting, but someone else did. Two of them, in fact.

President Lauren Livermore had been fifty-three when she fell asleep. Two younger women awoke in her bed at 1:56 AM and stared at each other.

“Dios mío,” said the younger, and the elder asked in no polite terms who she was. They found their names to be Marie, in the younger’s case, and Curie, in the elder’s, and while they both knew Lauren and had Lauren’s memories, they had no idea what had happened to her or how to get her back. At Curie’s insistence they took up Lauren’s responsibilities together, and at Marie’s insistence they pretended to be her representatives, duly chosen, while President Livermore herself was ill.

In the end, the in absentia President was voted out of office, and Marie and Curie happily (for they were so very tired) went to Lauren’s old apartment in a city on the other side of the island. They knew, suddenly, that upon their first night free from politics that Lauren Livermore would return the next morning in their place.

“I guess things like us are what happens when people fall apart,” said Curie.

“Yes,” acknowledged Marie, “but then, we make it possible for them to put themselves back together.”

Former President Lauren Livermore awoke the next morning with Marie and Curie’s combined memories, sat still in her bed for fifteen minutes, then went to the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee.


See more stories by *Snow*
I feel like I am not getting

I feel like I am not getting somthing and am curious for more. But great job!

Posted by Cherith on Mon, 04/15/2019 - 20:35
Thank you for reading,

Thank you for reading, Cherith! This is a super weird short story I wrote for Re's flash fiction contest. You can find it on the A/N if you're interested!


Spero quod via tua est directa et quod tuum onus est levis.

Posted by *Snow* on Mon, 04/15/2019 - 20:47

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