{"id":2746,"date":"2025-01-11T15:50:00","date_gmt":"2025-01-11T22:50:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2746"},"modified":"2025-01-11T15:50:00","modified_gmt":"2025-01-11T22:50:00","slug":"a-promise-kept","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2025\/01\/11\/a-promise-kept\/","title":{"rendered":"A Promise Kept"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Write a story with a character or the narrator saying \u201cI remember\u2026\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The prompt further states:
Our official contest guidelines are still 1,000 to 3,000 words per story, but we hope to see more stories than usual embracing the concise spirit of flash fiction. Return to a time of cultural maximalism \u2014 while keeping your word count to a minimum.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

word count: 1000<\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI remember\u2026.\u201d The grizzled veteran rubbed the white fur along her muzzle, tracing the path of a scar with a clawed hand missing two digits. \u201cI was a young lieutenant then; thought I knew everything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGrenan, don\u2019t start getting maudlin now.\u201d Next to the warrior covered in white and grey fur sat another bipedal tetrapod. The similarities ended there, however. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grenan stood over two meters with clawed hands that better served slashing than grasping, a muzzle that extended the size of both her mouth and nose, large, low-set ears that hung above sloped shoulders, and large, gold-rimmed eyes that were almost entirely pupil. The woman next to her, though, was one-and-a-half meters tall, brown eyes surrounded with visible, white sclera, an orthognathic rather than prognathic face, long, straight, dark brown hair with streaks of grey above golden-brown skin, and slender hands with grasping fingers capped with nails that served only as protection for the nailbed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you even listen to yourself?\u201d Grenan gulped down her drink and signaled for a refill. \u201cDetermined to be the shining daystar always, Mei? Do I need to remind you that life is not always light and happiness?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mei downed her shot and rapped the empty glass against both of her prosthetic legs. \u201cNope, I\u2019ve got plenty of reminders. But tonight isn\u2019t about getting all weepy, you hear me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s it about then?\u201d Grenan took her refilled cup and sipped. \u201cYou call me and say rush down here to meet you at the bar and then ask if I remember when we met.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, I promised you something then, before we were so rudely interrupted by the war.\u201d Mei chuckled at some internal joke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe met just in time to become siblings in arms,\u201d the big veteran said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot often a training exercise gets skipped for jumping into the shit, but god damn if I would want any other unit by my side in combat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grenan sniffed on instinct and knew that Mei was hiding something she considered good. \u201cI don\u2019t like surprises.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBetween your sniffer and how well you know me, it doesn\u2019t matter what happens, it won\u2019t be much of a surprise.\u201d Mei picked up her chaser and took a swig of the cold beer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grenan looked down to where she could smell the plastics and electronics of Mei\u2019s legs and guilt washed over her. Mei had never assigned blame, but Grenan blamed herself and had never been able to forgive herself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mei laid a gentle hand on the sloped shoulder of her furred friend. \u201cHey, Gren, it\u2019s not your fault. Please, stop blaming yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy brain knows,\u201d Grenan said, \u201cbut I still feel guilty about it. If I hadn\u2019t turned the safeties off\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019d both be dead,\u201d Mei cut her off. \u201cYou did exactly what you were meant to in the situation. If I\u2019d been in proper uniform\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat? You\u2019ve never mentioned that. But what does it have to do with anything?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mei let out an exaggerated sigh. \u201cIn the six years before the\u2026,\u201d she knocked her knuckles against her leg, \u201c \u2026before this, how many times did you beat me to battle stations? In all the drills and actual emergencies, how many times?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, I\u2026 just that time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cExactly.\u201d Mei smiled. \u201cI\u2019d been dangling my bare feet in the hydroponics pond. I figured having my boots in hand was close enough to in uniform.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen the alarm went off, I knew it wasn\u2019t a drill. I shoved my wet feet into my boots and took off for stations. Just before the hull was breached, I stepped on my loose shoelace and face planted. I was just lucky that all my important bits were on the safe side of the blast door when it dropped.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMei, it wasn\u2019t your fault, it was\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA stupid accident caused by me not being in proper uniform in an unsafe area.\u201d Mei smiled. \u201cI\u2019m over it, and I\u2019ve had these prostheses longer than I had legs.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf anyone had known the whole story, you would\u2019ve been called \u2018Laces\u2019 instead of \u2019Stumpy.\u2019 Or would that have been even more cruel?\u201d Grenan asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEh, if your nickname isn\u2019t at least a little cruel or embarrassing, then your comrades don\u2019t like you. It\u2019s still better than\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHershey,\u201d Grenan cut her off. \u201cWhen you explained what the name meant I thought maybe everyone hated him, but he seemed to take it in stride.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, yeah. He probably still wished he had a better nickname already. Still, when you\u2019re piloting a fighter mid-combat, a stomach bug strikes and you fill your flight suit, you gotta\u2019 know a name\u2019s coming.\u201d Mei snorted. \u201cI talked to him at Whitman\u2019s memorial. He\u2019s still not retired; running the new pilot training program.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, Whitman\u2026. If Whitman hadn\u2019t been on station, you wouldn\u2019t have made it.\u201d Grenan raised her glass. \u201cTo Marcus \u2018Aftershock\u2019 Whitman, may he rest in peace.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mei touched her glass to Grenan\u2019s. \u201cTo Doc Aftershock.\u201d She took a sip, then asked, \u201cNow that he\u2019s gone, are you allowed to tell me why that became his nickname?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grenan\u2019s lip raised above her needle-like teeth, her species\u2019 equivalent of a smile. \u201cAfter he put the tourniquets on, pumped you full of synth-blood, and put you into a medically induced coma, he took care of you until you were in pre-op on the hospital ship.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFor eleven hours, he was calm, efficient, and meticulous. After he handed you off to the surgical team, and was no longer responsible, he began to shake. He couldn\u2019t stop shaking for hours, breaking into gasping sobs every few minutes. He kept it cool until he didn\u2019t have to, then went into shock. Aftershock.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat about you?\u201d Mei asked. \u201cHow did you handle it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen Whitman told me not to look, I didn\u2019t. I didn\u2019t see you until after you came out of surgery. Cowardly, huh?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNah, smart.\u201d Mei stood. \u201cI once promised you a human-style birthday party, now you\u2019ve got one at your house to get to. Pretend to be surprised.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

prompt: Write a story with a character or the narrator saying \u201cI remember\u2026\u201d The prompt further states: Our official contest guidelines are still 1,000 to 3,000 words per story, but we hope to see more …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[210,228,209],"class_list":["post-2746","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-fiction","tag-science-fiction","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-Ii","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2746","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2746"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2746\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2747,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2746\/revisions\/2747"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2746"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2746"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2746"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}