It’s been more than a little while since I posted anything here; I gave myself a significant break from social media during the colder months (that’s pretty much June through September for all of those not from the southern hemisphere), as well as what ended up being or fourth, fifth and now sixth (and counting?) Melbourne lockdowns.

I have been continuing to write during this difficult part of the year (my mental health issues always seem to get dialled up a little in Winter, and it certainly doesn’t help being forbidden from socialising), with my monthly Furious Fiction submissions being my main creative outlet.

The following is my last-minute entry for the July edition. I’m not convinced it works all that well as a short story – it feels more like some good ideas from two different stories forced together – but it does make for an interesting premise. Perhaps the events described within could be improved upon, expanded and be incorporated into a bigger story?

One last thing before I get to the story. Unfortunately, I forgot to record what the prompts were for this story. if I remember or manage to find them I will add them in place of this message; I think they give some important context as far as some of the narrative decisions made.

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“Press the button to find out what you’ve won,” were the first words I heard when I emerged from the forest. The area I emerged into being a steam-punk inspired atrium with concentric circle markings decorating the ground. In the middle of the room was a waist-high rusted metal pillar, on top of which was a large red button.

“Do I have to?” I asked, not knowing who I was addressing.

There were a few seconds of silence before I received a response.

“Press the button to find out what you’ve won,” repeated the disembodied voice, seemingly originating from, everywhere and from nowhere simultaneously.

“What prize?” I asked, a little frustrated.

Glancing back towards the trees I remembered that I wasn’t the only person who had been navigating the strange, labyrinth-like woods, that I was competing against other people, and that we were all trying to be the first person to make it to the other side. What I didn’t remember though, was anything before the forest.

“Press the button to find out what you’ve won,” the voice said for the third time, and my assessment of the situation moved from frustration to unease.

“Look, I’m just going to wait for the next person to arrive,” I replied

There was no response from the voice this time; it appeared as though we had reached an impasse of sorts, though that did nothing to lessen my discomfort.

I couldn’t say how much time passed as I waited for the next person to emerge from the trees. Or for the owners of the strange amusement to relent and let me out without pressing their ridiculous button. I occupied myself by collecting pebbles from the path and flinging them in the direction of the comically large button I was supposed to press.  

The more time passed, the more irritated I became. Darkness was rapidly approaching.

I stood up and walked towards the button.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” I announced to no one in particular, “But you might need to send someone to look for the others.”

No response.

“Seriously, they could be lost.”

“Press the button to find out what you’ve won,” was the only answer I received.

With exasperation I surrendered, stepping forward and slamming my open palm down on the large red button.

The sky filled with an overwhelmingly bright white light and when everything returned to normal, I found myself standing at the edge of a forest with a group of people whom I did not recognise, but who seemed oddly familiar.

In front of our group was a man in a suit holding an open laptop, on which another be-suited man appeared to be relating instructions to us.

My confusion didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you okay, Victor?” The young woman standing next to me asked, and it took me a moment to realise that it was me she was addressing

“I think so,” I replied, uncertainly.

“Good,” she said, “We all need to remember why we’re doing this.”

The End

James Farish-Carradice