Today’s flash fiction is a mash-up of two genres chosen at random, also featuring two other objects/concepts, also picked at random.  I’ve only paid lip-service to those but I hope my Dying Earth-Erotica mash-up not only did its job but also remained suitable for a PG blog!  Thanks, Chuck Wendig, for the challenge – it’s around 700 words for those of you that like to know in advance.

Don’t forget that The Talent Seekers is free on Amazon worldwide today till midnight California time (that’s 8 am tomorrow for UK readers) and there’s a Giveaway Hop on the Princelings website.

The Last Ice-cream

The plain of glass stretched off into the distance.  There was no end to it.  Some brains thought there would be no end to the world, others knew it was already at hand.  An unseen deep red orb filled the sky; the red giant called simply ‘Sun’ that had once been synonymous with happiness, growth, life.

For many millennia, Earth’s inhabitants had been leaving.  They went in ships, at first in faster than light ones, then in gossamer-winged sail-ships that floated on the solar winds and navigated gravitation fields to change course.  Then those who had been left behind, realising they lacked the skill to build ships and leave, switched their energies to the collective mind.  They found it was indeed a powerful weapon, and such were the emotions caused through the departure of the able, the mind collectives took sides for the Great War, World War 211, as some termed it.

One collective had shunned the turmoil, had taken refuge in primitive life forms inhabiting the underside of the Antarctic ice sheets.  For centuries they searched above the ice for remnants of the great mind collectives.  Broken-hearted, they withdrew to their methane-loving bacteria, and developed mind-shields to save them from the ever-increasing temperatures above.  The ice had gone, but the brains had encouraged their hosts to merge with other bacteria deep in the oceans at hydrothermal vents.  Next, the realisation that the oceans were boiling away sent the adapted life-forms down the vents themselves, taking refuge in the unstable magma, increasingly stressed by internal tides caused by gravitational forces of the bloated sun.

Now they waited, debating among themselves whether the twentieth century brains were indeed closer to the truth than the fortieth century ones.  Would the world end with a bang or a whimper?  Or not at all?

The mind known as Pattaya- Christodoulou-Hutchinson-Weiyong-Nilsson-Bhandacharia (or PCHWNB for short) had suggested some centuries ago that since mind discussion could be carried out in nano-seconds, it would be greater fun to enjoy the formation of words by which to communicate.  After a few decades using this form, it became a common and enjoyable pastime to search the memory banks for exotic experiences, and explore these during any conversation using words. Hence, when PCHWNB raised the question of the world ending once more, an argument took place between FGBTRJ (Filipe-Guertler-Bonham-Trellallallanono-Rayment-Juno) and NCACMN (Ng-Chittagong-Allen-Chukwasame-McTavish-Nairu) about what was a more appropriate experience to insert into any conversation about the end of the world.  Bringing the argument before the mind council, they achieved a ruling that anyone hypothesising the end of the world should have adequate time to explore an exotic experience in depth, and the panel of judges appointed by the council would rate degrees of appropriateness.  News of this ruling spread so wide that a queue of brains stood by to bring their own favourite experience into the debate.

Thus it was that the mind collective had no one on alert for changes on the surface of the red giant, their sun.  Everyone was listening to FGBTRJ and NCACMN as they jointly explored the exotic experience labelled ‘ice-cream’.

“It’s cold.”

“It’s luxurious.”

“The cream sends tingles down your spine.”

“It sends tingles on your tongue.”

“How does it feel when the soft, sticky wetness slides over your lips?”

“The velvety smoothness excites the tastebuds and stirs the soul.”

“How does it feel on your navel?”

“Have you tried it in your ear?”

“Let us explore the dripping onto bare skin as it slowly melts under the heat of your passion.”

“Close with me, and ensure our breaths are one as we inhale the aroma of vanilla laced with passion fruit.”

“No, you cannot have it, it is forbidden!”

“Yes, yes, I want it! Come to me now!!”

“Place your tongue on this icy ball, and I will let you lick it, gently sliding in and out of your taste zones.”

“Oh, yes, yes, YES.”

“Come to me NOW, my darling and we will slide down the chocolate covered richness into a pool of silky smooth …”

“Shhh! Speak not of chocolate… I want .. ice-cream…. Now – Now!!”

And the pair, plus the entire mind collective, exploded into the stars as the red giant went nova.

The Last Ice-cream

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