Seven: No More Ironing

     I am embarrassed to admit, but the first thought that went through my head was, "hey, at least I don't have to make sure I have pressed clothes for work."  After, let's just say a few years, I no longer had to make sure that my work uniform of: dress pants, button down shirt and jacket or cardie were ready to go every week day morning.  I could wear pajamas and a tee shirt every single day if I wanted to.  Not much of a consolation prize but hey you have to take what you can get. 
     But, I can tell you right now, they get old after while,  those pajamas.  I mean, without that getting up, making the bed, getting dressed the day has no real beginning middle or end; it just sort of drags along pointlessly and endlessly.  All times and all days started to look sadly the same.  Was it time to get up? Who really cares?  Was it Thursday or Saturday?  What difference did it make?  Did I wash my hair this morning?  Who would notice?
     So that is why I started getting dressed again.  I have favorite shirts and cardigans why not wear them.  There is absolutely no point in "saving" my good clothes.  It made me feel a little better about myself and the whole situation.  I did not however break out the iron, some things are not necessary in this new life I was facing.

What happens next?  Use the Comment section to add to the story, or take this starter and make you own story. 

Six: The Airship

     When Professor Donovan invented Lighter Than Air Foam the world changed.  Before its invention  air travel was a mere pipe dream; afterwards it became a reality.  Unlike cruder attempts at air travel, or "ballooning"  Foam was reasonably safe.  It did not burst into flames, in fact, it burned rather slowly and only under the most extreme conditions could Foam be inducted to explode.  Foam also had the advantage of being close to leak proof.  Encased in the patented outer-cover even a large tear could be mended without  risk that the ship would plummet to the ground.  Foam bulged out of holes rather than leaking away, allowing Foam Jockeys to place bandages over rips.   Of course, Foam was outrageously expensive and the professor held very firmly to his patents and secrets, only the wealthiest people or largest corporations could afford using it. 
     As Professor Donovan explained in his biography, "I wanted to make a s**t pot load of money."  And he did.
     Great, fanciful airships roamed through the skies full of happy, beautiful people willing to pay not so small fortunes to escape from the dirt and smoke below.  As with everything, styles change and what was beautiful and amazing ten years ago becomes dated and small.  Despite the relative safety of using Foam ships crashed, usually due to careless and daredevil pilots.  So it came to pass, that through salvaging, scavenging, and other perhaps extralegal means, a new class of Foam Jockeys arose.
     Plying the aether in less than beautiful ships these Jockeys made their various livings smuggling, trading, and delivering packages and people to out of the way places.   In order to separate themselves from their more legitimate brethren they preferred to be called Foamers a play on the word roamers.     

Five: The Change

     Hannah's husband both hated and loved her.  He loved that she was quiet and mild and sweet.  He loved that he had complete control over her world.  He loved that she did not question when he went out with his friends, did not ask to go along, or complain that he never took her anywhere.   He loved that she was content to spend her days at the computer chatting with "friends" and playing games.  He hated that he was embarrassed by her appearance.  He hated that sometimes she didn't smell very well; it was in fact his own fault.  She no longer fit into the shower and had to be helped in the bath.  He hated bathing her, and hated when he didn't bathe her.  He hated explaining that his wife was not well when he was asked to bring her along on outings.  But he loved the sympathy he got for having an ill wife, and being such a good husband.
     Hannah's change began very slowly.  One day on YouTube she saw a video about how just getting in and out of her chair was a workout for someone her size.  After that she decided to stand up and sit down while waiting for a page to load.  It was very difficult, but she kept at it, day after day, standing up and sitting down waiting on pages.  Over time it got easier for her.
      It was at this point that Hannah decided to add something new to her routine.  The two liter bottles of Mountain Dew her husband gladly supplied her with were in fact quite heavy.  Hannah decided to use them for weights.  She watched a video on using weights.  It was difficult, but Hannah was determined.   Just like the standing and sitting it got easier over time.
     Hannah realized one day that by moving during the times she was not actually typing, she was eating less.  She no longer filled the empty moments with snacking.  It was then that she decided to tackle the stairs.  There were only seven steps to the basement but they were almost impossible for her to get up and down without help.  Down once and up once, it left Hannah breathless and trembling.  Using her new found determination, she, day after day, struggled up and down the stairs, once twice, three times and so it continued.
     What happens next?  Please use the comment section to add to the story.

Four: The Grocery Store

     I do not know what I was thinking, going to the grocery store on a Friday night.  On the fifteenth of the month no less, so I knew full well that it was payday for half the town.  Yet, there I was in the packed store.  Could I have gone the day before, oh sure, could even have waited and gone early on Saturday.  I had enough coffee for one more pot.   I thought that there was one roll of toilet paper left in the cupboard.
     Even as I found myself pulling into the over crowded parking lot I caught myself thinking, "Oh, this is crazy."
     But there it was by some miracle, the perfect parking space.  So I figured it must be a good sign.  Well, so much for signs.  The only cart left had a distinct wobble to the left, and I found myself fighting it all through the produce aisle.  A couple of kids stood near the grapes casually popping them between their fingers and wiping the juice on each other absolutely no mom in sight.
     In the coffee row, right in front of my favorite brand stood two enormous women having a heated discussion about nothing.  When I tried to excuse myself to reach behind one of their carts to grab a can I was greeted with an evil glare.  I excused myself again, pushed a cart aside grabbed my coffee and dashed off as best I could with my wounded cart.  The women turned their wrath from each other to me as I rounded the corner into the soup aisle.  
     Now I didn't need soup, in fact I don't even like soup, but it seemed to be the quickest escape route.  I bobbed and weaved my way toward the paper goods.  Avoiding small children, label readers, and old people wandering slowly and seemingly aimlessly through the store, I glanced at the checkout stands.  Wouldn't you know it, ten stands and only five checkers.  The management knew full well that the store would be busy, why didn't they schedule accordingly?
     I regret going to the store that night, heck I regret going any where in town that day.  A shortage of toilet paper seems like such an insignificant thing looking back now.
     What happens next?  Please use the comment section to add to the story.

Three: Arrival

     The train pulled smoothly into the the last station on its route.  When the doors opened a blast of freezing air hit the lone passenger.  She peered out the door hoping to see someone waiting for her, but there was no one. With a heavy sigh, she picked up her case and stepped off of the train.  She had been told to wear warm clothes, but even her parka seemed to do little to hold off the cold.
     The station looked warm and brightly lit, so she trudged toward it through a swirl of snow.  Once inside she found herself alone.  Glancing at the clock above the ticket vendor she realized that she had in fact arrived several minutes early.  No need to panic yet.  She took a seat facing the entrance to wait for her promised ride.
     Outside the wind picked up and the snow started falling  in earnest, and it was only September.
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Two: The Waiting Room

     The waiting room was dull, as if deliberately designed to ensure maximum boredom.  Only one person occupied the room at a time.  Despite this, there were several different chairs from which to choose.  Although choose is probably not an entirely accurate description, since the chairs were in fact identical.  All of them were slightly uncomfortable, not so much as to distract, but just enough to not allow the sitter to completely relax.   The view from each of the chairs was essentially the same .
    From ceiling to floor the entire room consisted of shades of beige, so close in tone that they might be read as the same without close inspection.  The decorator failed to take into account textures as everything was flat without the benefit of any light reflection at all.  From  the featureless carpet to the bland ceiling the waiting room was one sad sweep of beige.  Even the ceiling failed to hold one's interest, with no distracting ceiling tiles to count.
     There was a coffee table, but without magazines, even outdated ones to read.  The table had no interesting coffee stains to interpret, no dust to write secret messages on,  nor sharp edges  to finger.  It sat far enough away from the chairs so as to be useless for resting feet.  But not far enough away to create space for pacing around.
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Starter Number One: Oxygen Leak

     Why does it always seem that just before things go horribly wrong there is a brief moment of recognition but by then it is just too late to do anything about it?
     "Yes, Yes, I know the oxygen is getting low, but that siren is not helping me think,"  she shouted to the computer.
     The computer did, of course, not answer.  The newer more sophisticated models were equipped with voice response, but that really was just overpriced bells and whistles.  Such a computer would not have detected the oxygen leak any sooner, nor would it have been able to come up with any solutions.  After all that was why people were needed to run the ships, to solve  unexpected problems.  Sure a computer could run basic systems, and navigate, but it couldn't wrap tape around a faulty wire, or tie down cargo that shifted during a rough take off.
     It had started as a tiny leak in the rear cargo bay.  Something that required her attention, but these thing happen, and it certainly was not life threatening, at first.
      What happens next?  Please use the comment section to add to the story.