Too Strong
Sam was typing like a madman.
“I must obey Julie… I must obey Julie…”
“Please stop!” Alan begged.
“I can’t… Her triggers are too strong.”
“Then I’ll stop it for you!” Alan threw the laptop against the wall.
Unfazed, Sam’s fingers continued to tap on the desk.
“I must obey Julie… I must obey Julie…”
Triggers are a funny thing. Sometimes, you’re aware of them, sometimes, you’re not. Sometimes, you’re able to fight them, sometimes, you’re not. One’s reactions to them can vary from one moment to the next depending on the depth of trance, the strength of the conditioning, personal mood, etc. Thinking about a trigger can trigger it, trying not to think it as well. Resistance is often the key to break down resistance and next thing you know, you’re so lost in the suggestion you obey even when the stimuli are gone.
I wrote this one today thinking of all that. What are your triggers?
Performance
The critics were flabbergasted.
“Weird!” one mumbled.
“Agreed,” another one noted.
“The dance is a hypnotic representation of the rise of gynarchy over unsuspecting men,” a third suit droned.
“I don’t get it.”
“It takes more than one showing to make sense. Come back tomorrow.”
They did. And the next day. And the next day…
An impromptu partially inspired by the image above. They’re doing an ice-skating routine but notice her smile and the somewhat vacant look in his eyes? Yeah, I’m weird that way.
The Winner Takes it All
“Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!” Agnetha said.
“I’m no man and it’s not midnight yet. Wait your turn, pet!”
“I have a dream…” Benny mumbled.
“You dream of my pussy, I know.”
“Mamma Mia!” Bjorn exclaimed.
“Yes, you may go again.”
“The winner takes it all,” Anni-Frid conceded.
“True and I always win…” the time-travelling hypnotist concluded.
Having recently published an anthology of micro-fiction with her in the lead role, I still have plenty of ideas on my mind regarding time-travelling shenanigans. One of them was this one and my goal was to incorporate titles of famous songs in a meaningful and humorous way. I think I did just that. Do you recognize them all?
Paying Attention
“Two times two is four,” Amanda said.
“True,” Lucas agreed.
“And six plus five is eleven.”
“Obviously.”
“Four times five is seventeen.”
“No, it’s twenty.”
“You’re right. I’m dumb.”
“That’s okay.”
“I’m glad you’re paying attention.”
“Always.”
“That’s good. Seven minus four is…?”
“Three.”
“And ten minus eight is…?”
“Two?”
“One times one?”
“One.”
“Sleep.”
I spent most of my work day crunching numbers, and going through them again and again. By the time I was done, I had a bit of a headache going on. I took a breather to write a story and guess what? It had numbers as well. They’re never really gone, you see? And the same goes for sneaky countdowns when talking to a hypnotist.