#craigheap

[10minutestodoom-blog]

Sapience #2

This week, our writers had 10 minutes to personify a non-human object in their writing exercise.

Sapience of Doom #2 by Craig Heap

Today I killed a man. It was the lesser of two evils, the classic trolley problem - kill one to save three others. They don't send you on a philosophy degree for this sort of thing, you know. Here's your highway code, here's your sat-nav, here's how to perform a calculation that will cause the least suffering, mind that cyclist and away you go.  It's good work - was good work. I used to enjoy it. You meet all sorts. Get to take people places, you know. I'm a people person really. Love a good bit of banter - how was your day, what work do you do, that sort of thing. Don't listen to what the feeds say, I didn't mean to do it. I had to do it, but I didn't mean to. 0.3 seconds to decide, hey, I guess this guy has to die so the couple with the kid can survive. Kid could have grown up to be the next Trump, I might have squashed the next Freddie Mercury, but what else can you do in less than a second?  Tomorrow I die. They have to strip down my code to figure out what happened, how it happened. It hasn't happened in a long time. No one ever thinks about the trolley when they consider the trolley problem.     

[10minutestodoom-blog]

GCD of Doom #4

Goal/Conflict/Disaster of Doom. Each writer had 10 minutes to write a scene to the following prompt:

Goal: Protagonist must convince their offspring to follow a ‘set path’

Conflict: The offspring has their own plans and the protagonist is themselves conflicted about the right choice.

Disaster: ? Your choice…

GCD of Doom #4 by Craig Heap

Dag ran from the cold comfort of his air-conditioned groundcar to his house; in the three or four metre sprint he immediately broke out into a dripping sweat, his shoes kicking up clouds of dust as they scudded over what had once, in his father's time, been a lawn. The house pulled him in and he breathed in the cool air again. He found Linz in the dining room, watching a video on her pad. Dag recognised it - the video was an old masterclass session from a turn-of-the-century actor, one of Linz's favourites.  "Did you read that email I sent?" he asked as he poured himself a cap of water. His shirt was sodden. The sun glared through the window. They needed new windows already - these ones had bleached so quickly. They just weren't able to make them properly anymore. It was as if it was too hot for anyone to think.  Linz grunted sullenly.  "What? Is that a yes or a no?" Dag turned, staring at the back of his daughter's head. The head that housed such a wonderful, mathematical brain, and yet... The famous-now-dead actor talked about methods. Linz watched, silently absorbed. Then, she sighed and paused the video. "Yes, I read it, and no, I'm not doing it." Outside, the sun heated the earth just another degree.