Let’s say you wake up after an unnerving dream, and
Strike that. Starting a story with someone waking up feels “old hat.” It’s been done a trillion times. Strike the first sentence from your memory. You are forbidden to re-read that sentence.
Also, let’s strike the second-person “you.” That was intended to increase the intensity of the reading experience. However, in one of the story’s paragraphs, the character fires a gun in a gun range, which is a sensitive topic and may irritate or annoy or upset or enrage some readers. (Or all those emotions.) You are forbidden to skip ahead to find the gun paragraph. Simply continue reading to the next paragraph.
Let’s say Jason is traveling to work, and the morning feels humdrum, pretty much the same as many many many previous mornings. Jason craves excitement the way a ragged man crawling on a desert dune in a comic panel craves a water jug.
But not the kind of excitement of a wizard/time traveler popping into existence and saying he is very likely The Chosen One. Jason stopped believing in that years ago. He still enjoys watching movies/TV shows using that plot device. Years ago, Jason sometimes wished he was The Chosen One and assembled a group of allies and battled hordes of yucky creatures until he reached The Evil One, then Jason vanquished that brute. But Jason swayed from that wish to the wish that he wasn’t The Chosen One, as that position seemed to carry a great deal of responsibility and danger. Oh sure, Jason felt concerned while sitting on the sofa and watching the movies/TV shows, munching the salty or sweet snack of choice of the moment, but ultimately Jason was safe from swords and lasers. If he was The Chosen One in real life, the risk of injury or death would’ve been much elevated.
Also, Jason doesn’t crave the sort of excitement that brings a much elevated risk of injury or death. Absent from his wish list are super-volcanoes erupting, tsunamis crashing, and huge meteors falling. The sort of event where nature goes nuts.
Jason would rather experience an event with opponents who can be killed. March that horde of yucky creatures toward the city, and Jason will join the defenders. Just make sure he is trained in the bow, halberd, and sword first. Or have zombies careening around like human pinballs but with slow legs and horrible posture, yet their desire to visit chiropractors is nil. The resistance of humans can count on Jason to join.
Let’s say Jason makes time in his schedule, before or after work, and he joins a martial-arts school in a strip mall, attends for a while, gets promoted from white to yellow belt, then quits since he assumes most of the populace hasn’t had a single martial-arts lesson, so he has a leg up on them. (Which could be taken as an attempt at a martial-arts pun.)
Let’s say Jason takes a gun training course, then practices during several weekends at the gun range. He chooses not to purchase a gun. But if the chance of an evil mutant invasion increases, he will revisit this decision. For now, he is fine with the knowledge of a gun’s weight in his hand and improved aim during those practice sessions.
Let’s say he takes an advanced driving course to sharpen his defensive skills, and to get introduced to driving a range of vehicles. In a post-apocalyptic hellscape, Jason might not have a wide range of vehicles available to him and must ride a motorcycle or drive a school bus. Of course, the motorcycle would be faster, but the bus has built-in beds to use when Jason reaches a safe-ish place to park every night. And if he is in group of allies, the bus offers more room for the group to rest and watch the hellscape’s scenery as Jason carefully drives the broken highways.
Let’s say, through all this training, he purchases books to learn how to survive without the items he has grown accustomed to, such as grocery stores that haven’t been ransacked by other desperate survivors. Jason reads which plants in the wild are safe to eat. He reads how to create a shelter. He reads how to start fire without matches or a lighter. He reads how to strain water through a handkerchief. He purchases a multi-pack of handkerchiefs and always carries two of them (along with a lighter). One handkerchief would be used by Jason, and the second handkerchief to barter for a valuable item from another survivor.
Let’s say Jason thinks about taking these steps but decides they’re not worth the time, energy, and money to invest — since he finds the chance of an invasion of zombies or evil mutants to be tiny.
Traveling to work, he spots a dandelion growing in a crack in the sidewalk. Jason wonders if dandelions are poisonous. He taps his cell phone to search the Internet and discovers dandelions are safe to eat. He pinches the bright yellow flower from the stem and nearly eats the flower when a thought arrives. While the flower could have some nutritional value (vitamin C, let’s say), there’s a chance the lovely petals have absorbed pesticides and/or other toxic chemicals. If Jason is standing in a meadow in the country, that would be a different matter. Although that scenario raises the chance of raccoon urine on the dandelion. Jason tosses the dandelion flower and continues to his work’s building.
copyright © 2021 Dave Williams