Lorraine’s Friend Sam
Prompt Lost
“No way Quinn would do that!”
“I’m telling you, she’s a snake. She makes Rachel think she’s, like, a mother figure or something, but in reality she’s only watching out for herself.”
“I don’t know man, she’s really put herself out there for Rachel a bunch of times.”
“Mark my words.”
Lorraine and Sam sat together on the couch watching a TV show playing on Lorraine’s laptop, itself teetering on top of a makeshift pedestal of books.
Lorraine was a middle aged office worker, skin pale from a lack of sunlight, bags under her eyes from several years of too much work and not enough sleep.
Sam was a slice of extraordinarily rotten pizza.
Approximately 14 months earlier, Lorraine ordered an eggplant and onion pizza with extra cheese from Sam’s pizzeria, which has since gone out of business. Something about fudged zoning paperwork and radioactive waste disposal.
She ordered on a Saturday and ate almost an entire pizza by herself, leaving only a single slice behind. Lorraine wrapped the final slice tightly in plastic and stuck it in the fridge.
Over the next year and 2
Then, one day, at the strong suggestion of the landlord – some might have called it a threat – Lorraine cleaned out her fridge. She found a diverse cast of refuse in the bowels of the machine, things foul, dark, and putrid. Into the trash it all went.
Lorraine threw out almost everything, until, at last, far in the back of the bottom shelf, she found that final slice of Sam’s pizza.
Lorraine pulled out the sopping, plastic wrapped mess and held it gingerly by the corner of the crust. The slice had taken on a color unlike any mold Lorraine had ever seen – a bright, almost neon, purple.
More disturbing, the purple mold seemed to undulate under the plastic wrap. Disgusted, Lorraine flung the slice toward the garbage and missed. It landed with an audible plop, folded over in a bundle next to the radiator.
Lorraine was just conceiving of a way to grab the slice again, in a manner which judiciously avoided as much contact as possible, when she heard a voice. Not in the room, but in her mind.
“That hurt.”
Terrified, Lorraine ran to her bedroom and wielded a hair straightener like a baseball bat, waiting to whack the source of the sound.
“Please don’t do that again.”
Lorraine was non-plussed, her heart racing. She was concerned she was losing her mind. She spoke. “Hello?”
“Hey.”
“Where are you?”
“Here.”
Lorraine looked around. “Where?”
“Back here.”
Lorraine creeped her head around the corner of the hallway towards the kitchen.
The horrendous pizza slice sat in the same position on the floor.
“I can see you.” Came the voice in her mind.
Lorraine was astounded into utter silence. Terrified she ran out of the house, jumping slightly when she passed the pizza.
Hours later, calmer, Lorraine returned, certain her temporary loss of sanity had passed. With trepidation, she walked home and entered the apartment.
“Hi again.” The voice in her head said.
Stifling the urge to run, slowly, fearfully, Lorraine approached the purple slice of what used to be pizza. “What are you?”
The pizza undulated lightly. “I don’t know.”
“How are you talking to me?” Lorraine was genuinely confused.
“I learned from what I heard, and I’ve heard a lot.”
The truth struck Lorraine with the force of an emotional bullet train. For the last year she had been growing an entity in the womb of her refridgerator and nourished it with the unwitting information of her day to day life. Now it was sentient and speaking to her using telekinesis.
This slice of pizza, was, in all but the many, many respects Lorraine was absolutely determined to ignore, her child.
She bent down to the pizza, picked it up carefully, and laid it down on a dirty plate on the kitchen counter.
“I’m Lorraine.” She said.
“Hi Lorraine.” The pizza paused. “Who am I?”
Lorraine thought for a second.
“Your Sam.”
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