Future Perfect – Sunday Photo Fiction

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge presented by my old friend Al Forbes.
The idea is to write a short story (200 word max) inspired by what you see in his picture (below).
Today I thought, when I first saw Al’s rather belated photo, two very different things.
One, Al is a numpty.
But he is a friend, and a good guy.
Two, I know nothing about horticulture.
Well, I am a Scot, so anything with ‘culture’ is a different world.
Click on this link to enter your tale, and see what others have written.

Copyright Al Forbes

Copyright Al Forbes

Click here to hear me read the story:

Future Perfect

Everything is coming up roses.
I can see the future.
I am rich beyond belief.
It is too easy.
I can see how the stock market will move.
I can foresee the results of sporting events.
I cannot fail to make money.
Everything I was told was the truth.
He said he would let me see the future.
But for a price.
He promised my health would not be affected, nor any of my senses.
I would remain as active as before, still play rugby and my guitar.
He would not tell me the price in advance.
He said it was something I would not miss.
So do I?
It is hard to say.
You see, I can see the future, but not the past.
He took my memory.
I do not know who I am.

This entry was posted in Sound Bite Fiction and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

42 Responses to Future Perfect – Sunday Photo Fiction

  1. Indira says:

    Heavy price to pay for that. Chilling. Beautifully written.


  2. jademwong says:

    Oh wow, what an amazing poem, and story you’ve teased us with! That really is a heavy paradox, being able to see the future but not remember the past or your own identity.


  3. Joy Pixley says:

    I agree with so many other commenters — that is a heavy price to pay, indeed. Even more so because he doesn’t know what he’s lost. Were they wonderful memories? Horrible ones? Is he better off not knowing? And who is he, without his past? Interesting existential question.


  4. That’s really a stiff price to pay. He lost his identity. It seems he’s a man without a country. Today, of course, that would be hard to do. Someone would trace you down, especially if you owed them money. Good writing, C.E. 🙂 — Suzanne


  5. Some memories are best forgotten. Perhaps it was meant to be.

    Visit Keith’s Ramblings


  6. Be careful what your wish for!


  7. Excellent! You do have a way of winding up a story and then offering something unexpected, but very effective!


  8. Iain Kelly says:

    As others have said, we’re nothing without our memories. Great ending. And who is the ‘He’ in the story? Satan himself? Very mysterious.


  9. Lynn Love says:

    We are nothing without memories – they make up who we are – so he’s basically given up his personality for this power. I’m with Rochelle – chilling stuff C. Youare the master at this ‘last line kicker’ fiction 🙂


  10. mandibelle16 says:

    That is a heavy price to pay. Not remembering loved ones, no cherished memories remain. But I suppose since he is pretty much taken care of, that does not worry him. Still, wouldn’t you have this blank space in your head where memories used to be, where experience comes from? Great write CE.



  11. That is a very high price to pay indeed! I don’t think I would want to forget anything that I had done but I am not that bothered about the future either! Very well put together.


  12. Excellent. Our true wealth is the stories we tell.


  13. The true wealth is our stories. Nice one.


  14. Anja says:

    Then how can he write about what happened??


  15. Wow! That was great. Of course he wouldn’t miss his memories. He can’t remember them. Would I pay that price for something like that? No way.


  16. Dear CE,

    First, it fascinated me that you came up with that story for a picture of daffodils. Second, the story itself sent a chill through me. Memories would be a high price to pay, for who are we and what is life without them? Well imagined and constructed.




  17. emmylgant says:

    Kafkaesque! Génial!

    Sooo good.
    In one sentence you remind us that we are, in any given moment, the sum of our past, that memory is tied to how we feel and what we know about ourselves.
    I’ll quit now.


Leave your Sound Bite here

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.