The Energy of Objects: The Inanimate Magic of our Era

The Energy of Objects: The Inanimate Magic of our Era

The idea to write this article first popped up during a chat with a friend on how certain objects not only can change our mood, but also the moods of the people around us. And from there the idea developed into the meaning we give to certain objects. For those who have dropped by for a flash fiction piece or a short story, click on the link at the end of this article to read one of my published stories ‘The Mouldy Loaf’, which happens to be loosely based on what I am going to write in this article…  (You will need to scroll down a little until you see the story.)

Belongings, possessions, objects or whatever we name them, are just like mental luggage constantly carried around…

B Cansevgisi

Even if you have a minimalist lifestyle, living in an empty house with little or no belongings, you might feel a vague connection to some household objects or certain clothes. At least, your grotesque coffee mug or the single wobbly wooden chair, with one shorter leg huddled up in the corner, must have had a certain attraction to be your first selection to make it to your home amongst countless, more supreme other similar items. 

In the early steps of infancy, we start getting attached to certain objects whether it’s a book of fairy tales we can’t read, a favourite toy we carry everywhere or a clothing item like a tiny pair of pants with tiny pockets to store whatever strange bug or pebble we may find while playing outside. As young minds, we make deep connections with such objects and become joyous when we are in the vicinity of those mood boosters or get depressed if we lose them. At those ages this is understandable, especially in regards to our favourite toys or dolls as our untrained minds think they’re as much alive as we are. But, why we still feel the same way until we die, is a mystery.

Is it longing for some magic in our boring mundane lives?

An ode to the death of our inner child?


Do objects store some kind of energy that can be traded back and forth?

Let’s grow up a tad and take a peek into our teenage phase:

Before our slightly developed minds are lured into greed by friends, family, movies, computer games or the media, we never even think of owning rare metal objects made from gold, silver or diamond. So, if rarity was the issue, why not collect some of the ordinary stones we pass on the way home, which are far more unique in shape, colour or size than the mass produced, shiny metal trinkets. As for alluring clothing items; I find it a bit weird to consider a piece of fabric worn around the neck as a fashionable tie or a trendy scarf when the loose end is dangling down and see (and fear) it as a hangman’s noose when it shoots up.  Can we say that we give their meaning to objects? Maybe that’s why a worthless old junk for someone might be a priceless antique for another. Perhaps, the difference between the words to describe similar objects is the key. Ok, a piece of ‘junk’ and an ‘antique’ would probably not be the best example, so let me give you another: Second-hand shops in most UK cities label their merchandise as ‘pre-loved’ rather than ‘second-hand’ or ‘used’. It does make one feel good, doesn’t it?

Ok, let’s leave the shop and delve into our youth once more…

Starting from our teenage years, we give meaning to belongings of loved ones, too, like granny’s favourite slippers, uncle’s discoloured walking cane, girlfriend’s star-shaped earrings or similar objects given to us as presents like an old music box inherited from a parent or a necklace given us by ‘our partner in romance’ at our birthday or any other day. These objects we value so much, makes us feel good… until a fight brews up with the relative or a breakup with the beloved occurs. Then, these objects start generating grief and once precious stuff becomes the trigger of awful memories. But, why don’t we remember the good memories with the regarding person even if we are apart now?… without thinking of getting back together. Why do these objects take all the blame? Can’t we just look at them under a different light and at least try to embrace only the good memories and block out the bad ones? Or when a person dies, why are their belongings considered cursed or believed to emit negative energy?  Oh! And I am definitely NOT suggesting you to snatch a dead leper’s toothbrush for your own personal hygiene and think positively. That’s different.

In the end, objects reflect back the energy you see fit for them…so, next time before you throw away an object that is making you relive bad times, try to extract some good memories out of them and rethink. If you didn’t bin it a long time ago, perhaps it needs a reconsideration, another chance! A chance to be good.

For the promised story, just click here and scroll down until you see the title ‘The Mouldy Loaf’

The Night Couple

The Night Couple

Here’s a piece of flash fiction I wrote back in 2018, when the world was a much better place to live, write and not to be concerned by pandemics! The story below was published in the 5th issue of the “Sky Island Journal“, which has then become home for aspiring authors from all over the world. Just drop by their webpage to enjoy inspiring stories (or poetry if that’s your thing!)… Not much to do these times other than to read anyway 🙂


The night sky extended like a pitch-black blanket embedded with tiny diamonds, giving out bursts of condensed starlight at random intervals. Two figures lay on what seemed to be a small islet, judging by the sound of waves hitting hard on the coasts, leaving the tiny spot in the center almost mute except for some kind of virtually inaudible murmuring.

“I wonder if there are aliens out there,” the young female reflected, still fixated on the night sky, stargazing. She felt the familiar presence on her side, moving closer. The stars twinkled as if they had responded her question before he did.

Thinking she wasn’t being taken seriously, she slid a little away from him; just enough to get his attention. This feeling of strong affection towards him was strange to her; she had never felt like that before.

“I don’t know, but the universe is massive.” His thoughts echoed in her mind. “It would be foolish to think we’re alone.” He snuggled even closer than the first time. She loved being on the same frequency with him, communicating without the need of extensive mouth labor to produce meaningless sounds. He was different.

“What do they look like? How different is their world?” Thoughts were generated all at once in her mind.

“I’m sure they look nothing like you, my queen. You’re unique in the universe.”

Satisfied with his quick response this time, she remained anchored at her spot and stretched her arms as far as they could reach, forming arm-width canals that lead away from her body in the soft sand. It wasn’t long before she noticed the sky looking just a tad brighter.

“We need to be going home soon.” Her eyes were still watching the sky as it started to get even brighter.
He was hoping he would have more time to stay with her, but upon seeing the state of the swiftly illuminating sky, he knew there was very little time indeed. It was almost dawn… Dawns had always scared him.

“We need to go, my queen.” His arm gently grasped hers, the one that had been resting just next to him.

“OK, but we’ll continue our little conversation,” she conveyed. “I like thinking about the universe.”

“My queen.” He was getting alarmed. “We’ll dry out here and die if we wait a little longer. We should head home.”

Disturbing images flowed simultaneously into her mind, along with faint but alarming whispers echoing in her head, coming from deep under. It was a warning call from the others. It was time.
It was getting brighter, and the heat was getting more intense as Kepler-47 C’s double suns started showing their faces.

Finally, the odd couple wrapped their arms around each other—all 16 of them—crawled quickly to the tiny hole where they had emerged, and squeezed through, making their way down towards the ocean floor, their suction cups still glued to each other as they propelled to the hive on the seabed for the day.


I do not like books or any kind of fiction turning into lame silver screen productions, as the essence of the written work is almost always left out or altered beyond recognition to please the viewers, who seem more and more glamorized by special effects and needless action scenes. Individual imagination has been put to rest, and we are made to watch only the director’s imagination in most cases. So, I gradually began writing fiction that could not be turned into films (as it would be pointless to do so) and this was one of my first trials.


Baris Cansevgisi

The Underwear Trials at the Fourth Place

The Underwear Trials at the Fourth Place

From time to time, I create worlds in short prose… invent lore on the go… bear fiction into life; as without imagination and the labour of the mind, we are just empty vessels stuck in their shells…

What if death was not an end, but just a short pause of eternity?

The flash fiction piece below is not based on real events or has no connection to actual living or deceased persons in our dimension. 🙂

“The Underwear Trials at the Fourth Place” by Baris Cansevgisi

“Edwin Arnolds, 27, died on the morning of August the thirteenth after misdirecting his right foot into the gusset of his boxer shorts, resulting in the entanglement of his toes in the reinforced fabric, causing him to lose balance with the wobbly, single footing and-“

“What’s a gusset?” Leonard asked, straightening up a little forward from the chair, stretching his feet down to touch the floor. He hoped Werner was coming to an end reading the report. These reports were getting more boring each time. “Why did he have to read them aloud?” He sighed.

“…fall by slipping in the bathroom and slam his head into the corner of the bathtub.” Werner concluded. “Blunt force trauma, but believe me the emotional trauma will be much worse. What a way to go!” He punched in some keys into the console right in front of him and a video clip showing Edwin’s last moments started playing on screen. It, indeed, seemed like the man was trying to punch a third opening into his underwear while performing a one-legged ritualistic dance on the slippery floor tiles.

“With a little bit of accuracy, the man could have died in his underwear or most probably not die at all.” Werner let out a hearty laugh.

“Isn’t he way old to be here?” The tip of Leonard’s shoes were barely brushing the floor beneath. He pulled his legs up when he felt a sudden cramp.

“Not necessarily, but it’s rare,” Werner took a deep breath. “I was… I am 25. Hey! You are not making fun of me, are you kid?” He winked despite wearing a grim face.

“No.” Leonard said, sliding out of the chair completely. “I just didn’t see any adults except you; here. Not many girls either. This place seems for young male children, that’s all.”

“Well, you sure sound like an adult when you’re not asking stupid questions.” Werner scratched his head and punched in some more keys to change the screen. A pop up screen titled ‘Course of Action’ appeared above the words: ‘Underwear trials: 7199 successful attempts required to proceed.’.

“Hmmmm… that seems a tad much.” Werner commented as he grabbed a tablet and sprang up from his seat. “Come on kiddo, we should be there.”

Leonard and Werner hurried down a long, uninviting corridor with disturbing bright lights oozing out of the walls and entered a room at the end. The man, whom they watched dying on screen was standing totally naked right in front of them with confusion oozing out of his eyes. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“Mr. Arnolds! Welcome to the fourth place!” Werner said, extending his hand out for a handshake.

“Wh- where am I?” Edwin’s voice trembled as he shook Werner’s hand in automation. “Am I-?”

“Dead? Well, yes and no.” Werner replied. “You are momentarily wiped out of existence! You see, people are judged upon death and end up in heaven or hell. And, there are those who have not yet earned a place in heaven or have not sinned enough for hell.”

“I don’t understand. Is this Purgatory, then?”

Werner shook his head. “As I mentioned at the beginning, you’re at the fourth place… it’s for those who get to receive a second chance in life, at least until their final destination is booked before their final demise.”

“Reincarnation!” Edwin shouted in partial disbelief.

Werner turned to Leonard with a sudden burst of laughter. “He’s definitely too old for that!” He winked and turned back to the confused man.

“No… no. You will be continuing your life from where you left off after you are… properly trained not to die in the stupid way you did.”

“Time is different here.” Leonard cut in. “You’ll be back where you were even if it takes you years to-“

“This is ridiculous.” Edwin shouted. “I know how to wear an underwear!”

“Think of it as training for the underwear to be more weary of you!” Werner started laughing senselessly again. He was getting closer and closer to the moment of snapping due to the huge amount of time he spent at the fourth place. He quickly started tapping into his tablet and the embarrassing video clip started playing once more. He turned the device towards Edwin and saw the man’s embarrassment materialize in his posture.

“My foot was wet and the boxer was too elastic…” his voice faded away.

“No need to explain.” Werner patted the man’s shoulder. “We are all in the same boat here.”

“Huh!” Edwin exclaimed. “So, this fourth location is for those who have died because of their lack of underwear wearing skills?”

“Haha!” Werner verbalized his laughter and turned to Leonard once more. “If it were so, your question about not many women being here would have been answered, Leonard!” He patted him on the back.

“I don’t get it,” Edwin knelt down and sat on the floor trying best to cover his overexposed bits.

“You see, women’s undergarments are way too small for their feet to get tangled-” Werner suddenly stopped and his face took a serious look. He shook his head, passed the tablet to Leonard and said:

“You go on. You’ve watched me countless times… you deal with this and I’m going for coffee… the horrible muck we have here until a barista shows up.” He hurried out of the door part sobbing, part laughing.

Leonard punched in a code into the tablet, resulting in a secret compartment in the far wall to open with a click. “It’s called the fourth place,” he corrected Edwin’s previous remark. “Not location.” Then pointed at the cavity in the wall housing a large package inside. “And, that’s for you. Any questions?”

Edwin got up, walked to the compartment, took the package and shook it close to his ear. “What’s in it?” He finally asked.

“7199 pieces of clean underwear for you. That’s the number of attempts it takes to return back to your life… to the time right before you died… with no recollection of the time you spent here.”

“This is still ridiculous,” Edwin mumbled as he checked out a pair of white boxer shorts with purple polka dots. Then, he chucked it away into a corner and turned back to Leonard. “Stupid deaths… no matter how ludicrous they are, the causing action that lead to death are rarely triggered by people themselves… like someone ingesting bug spray to kill the bug, he has priorly swallowed… how can you train not to swallow something so poisonous for a countless times?”

“You can’t,” Leonard smiled. “That’s why the fifth place exists!”

Erios’un Planı

Erios’un Planı

Today is my mom’s birthday, and here’s a flash fiction piece I wrote for her. It’s in Turkish and it’s my first try in the language…

Happy birthday mom!!!

P.S: I love you!

Andromeda Galaksisi, MCMXCIX-II gezegeninin merkezinde bulunan Erios şehri normalden farklı bir güne merhaba diyordu. Yanıp sönen yatay ışık huzmeleri doğalarına uygun bir hızla farklı yönlere giderek, gezegenin yemyeşil bitki örtüsüyle kaplı yüzeyinde adeta yarışıyorlardı. Normalden farklı olan bu fevkalade ışık gösterisi değildi sadece; bu seyyah renk karışımlarının normalden 43.5 kat daha parlak olmalarıydı. Bir de tabii bu gezgin ışık huzmelerinin aslında Erios sakinleri olduğu gerçeği vardı ki, bu gösteriyi sıradışı yaptığı kesindi.

Şehir merkezinin iki ucunu birbirine bağlayan, içinde 71 renk barındıran likit gökkuşağının batıdaki ayağında ışık kümeleşmeleri iyiden iyiye artmıştı. Her gelen rengarenk ışık, yani Erios sakini, küre şekline bürünüp, gökkuşağının ayağının etrafındaki yeni yeni oluşmaya başlayan çemberde yerini alıyordu. Çemberdeki son boşluğa hızla gelip, yerleşen ve küre formuna bürünen son renk, açık zümrüt ağacı yeşiliydi. Ve o an, çemberin merkezinde, tam da likit gökkuşağının ayağının bulunduğu noktada bütün ışıklardan daha parlak, bembeyaz bir ışık hüzmesi belirdi. Bu parıldayan beyazlık, önce gökkuşağındaki 71 rengin tümünü adeta bir karadelik gibi emdi, sonra da içindeki her rengi daha parlak bir şekilde yansıttı. Erios’un hükümdarı sonunda ortaya çıkmıştı.


“Erios’un tüm ışıklarını selamlıyorum,” diye başladı söze. Etrafındaki çemberdeki ışıklardan kısa süreli bir yanıp sönme geldi cevap olarak. “Buraya toplanma amacımızı merak ediyorsunuzdur. Hemen söyleyeyim,” dedikten sonra, ışığının merkezinde holografik bir imaj belirdi… mavi-yeşil bir gezegendi bu!

“Burası Samanyolu Galaksisinde yer alan Dünya gezegeni,” dedi. “Hepimiz biliyoruz ki, uzun bir süredir kendimizi göstermeden gelişmelerine yardımcı oluyorduk. Aramızdan bazıları, güneşleri battığı zamanlarda, yaşadıkları evlere aydınlık sağlamak gibi amaçlarla zaten Dünyada yaşamlarını sürdürmekteydi. Ancak, Dünya tarihine baktığımız zaman, orada yaşayan uygarlığın bazı temel fonksiyonlarında önemli eksikliklerin olduğunu gördük. Bu şekilde devam ederlerse çok yakında dünyalarını kendi kendilerine yok edecekler.”

“Nasıl yani? Kendi kendilerine mi?” diye sordu, kor ateşi rengindeki küre. “Hayatta kalma içgüdüleri yok mu yani onların?”

“Var tabiii ama savaşlar, bencillik, kıskançlık, birey olarak kendini beğenmişlik, birbirlerine karşı sevgi-saygı eksikliği ve akıllarını doğru şekilde kullanabilme ile sorun yaşıyorlar. Bu da onları kaçınılmaz bir sona doğru götürüyor.”

“Peki neden şimdiye kadar müdahale etmedik?” dedi, derin deniz mavisi küre. “Biz tüm evrenlerin iyilik melekleri değil miyiz?”

“Evrendeki her uygarlık, öğrenme ve tecrübelerden ders alma gibi yollarla kendi kendilerini kurtarmayı hak eder. Biz de bu nedenle bekledik şu ana kadar, ama herşey daha kötüye gitti. Şu anda acilen müdahale etmekten başka bir çaremiz yok.”

“Ama nasıl? Geç kalmadık mı? Nasıl ulaşacağız zamanında?” diye sordu Zümrüt Ağacı yeşili küre. Eğer bu muhteşem ışık küresinin olsaydı gözleri, kesinlikle hüzün dolmuş olurdu.

“Tam olarak değil. Oraya doğru yol alırken, kendi maksimum hızımızı belirli oranlarda aşabilirsek, zamanı da geriye döndürüp, uygun yerlere ve zamanlara birer Erios gönüllüsünü gönderebiliriz. Ne de olsa, tarihlerini ve yaptıkları hataları biliyoruz. Onları kurtarabiliriz. Herkes hazır mı?” diye sordu büyük beyaz huzme.

“Hazırız!” dedi ışık küreleri hep bir ağızdan.

“O zaman başlayalım,” dedi Erios’un hükümdarı, kor ateşi rengindeki küreye dönerek. “Sen, bilgiyi temsil edeceksin Tes-la, 1856 yılına gidecek ve onları kurtarabilecek olan bilimi ilerleteceksin.”

“Ama… ama, bir ışık varlığı olarak, nasıl yapacağım bunu? Aynı dili bile konuşmuyoruz dünyalılarla.”

“Şu aşamada dünyaya giden her ışık, orada halihazırda bulunan arkadaşlarımızın aksine, onlarınki gibi etten ve kemikten oluşan vücutlarda doğacak, onlar gibi büyüyecek, onlar gibi yaşayacak, yani kısacası onlardan biri olacaksınız. Tabii, bunun tam anlamıyla başarıya ulaşması için Erios ve buradaki yaşamınızla ilgili hiç bir şey hatırlamayacaksınız. Maalesef tek yol bu… muazzam bir fedakarlık, tabii bu durum oradaki beşer hayatınız sona erene kadar. Ancak o zaman, boyut değiştirip, ışık olacak ve herşeyi tekrar hatırlayacaksınız.”

“Tamam,” diye onayladı Tes-la yanıp sönerek. “Oraya ve o zamana ulaşabilmem için hızımı ne kadar arttırmam gerektiği bilgisini de hesapladım. Görüşmek üzere.” Tes-la küre formundan, huzme biçimine geçip aniden kayboldu.

“Sen La-onardo!” Erios’un hükümdarı derin deniz mavisi küreye doğru ışıldadı. “1452 yılına gidip, yazdıkların, çizdiklerin ve icatlarınla insanların yaratıcı güçlerini ortaya çıkaracak, onlara bir çok alanda esin kaynağı olacaksın. Belki yarattığın şaheserlerle, dünyalarının yok edilmeyecek kadar güzel olduğunu gösterirsin onlara.”

La-onardo da huzme haline bürünüp, tepelerinde bir tur attıktan sonra yoluna devam etti.

“Kar-la, 2115 yılına dünyadaki farklı milletleri bir araya getiren yönetici olarak doğacaksın, tüm insanları tek çatı altında birleştirecek ve aslında insanların birbirlerinden pek te farkları olmadığını göstereceksin.” Kekremsi pembe tonlarındaki küre de bir anda gözden kaybolur.

Gidecekleri yeri, zamanı ve görevlerini öğrenen renk kümeleri, birbiri peşi sıra kaybolmaya başlar; önce bozuk limon sarısı La-fayette ve sulanmış toprak rengi La-veau gözden kaybolur. Hemen arkasından da küllenmiş mor rengindeki Mande-la uçar.

Geride sadece zümrüt ağacı yeşili olan Nec-la kalmıştı.

“Peki, ben ne yapacağım? Benim görevim ne olacak?” diye sordu Erios’un hükümdarına.

“En önemli görev seninki Nec-la,” dedi Erios’un hükümdarı. “1945 yılına gidip, insanlara unutmakta oldukları sevgiyi ve şefkati hatırlatacaksın. Karşılıksız sevgi, saygı ve şefkat olmadan her uygarlık yıkılmaya yüz tutar.”

“Tamam, peki neden 1945 yılı?”

“Dünya o yıllarda büyük bir savaştan çok zarar görerek çıktı. Dünyanın yaralarını sarmaya ihtiyacı var ve bunun için de sevmeyi tekrar öğrenmesi gerekiyor.”

“Tamam ama benim burada 6 tane çocuğum var. Onları nasıl bırakırım ben!” dedi Nec-la.

“Hiç merak etme, onları da senin peşinden göndereceğim. Hiç ayrılmayacaksınız. Böylece farkında olmadan burada sahip olduğun çocuklara orada da sahip olacak ve onların eksikliğini hiç hissetmeyeceksin. Bilinçaltın huzur içinde olacak.”

“Peki ya eşim kim olacak? Dünyada çocuk sahibi olmak için 2 kişi gerekiyor diye biliyorum. Bir kadın, bir de erkek.”

“Onu da hiç merak etme. Seni sevecek, koruyacak, ömür boyu sevecek, sayacak bir aday belirledim bile.” dedi Erios’un hükümdarı. “Biliyorsun uzun zamandır, izliyorum dünyada olup biteni. Onu görür görmez tanıyacak ve aşık olacaksınız birbirinize”

“Harika!” dedi Nec-la. “Rotam dünya!” Nec-la tıpkı diğerleri gibi kayboldu gökyüzüne uçarak… veeeeee

5 Mayıs 1945 yılında, dünyaya sanki içindeki ışık taşmışçasına, zümrüt ağacı yeşili gözleri olan bir ışık doğar. Ve tüm dünya sevgiyle aydınlanır…

Görevi dünyaya sevgiyi öğretmektir ve sevgisi tüm dünyaya yetecektir.

Dickie L. Rowbotham

Dickie L. Rowbotham

It’s becoming more and more difficult to stay sane with all this self-isolation going on. So, I decided to write a flash fiction piece; a parody of the corona virus pandemic, main-stream media, social media blabbering, being clueless and the idea of hope. All characters here are fictional and have no relation to real world people or events. Here’s the punchline of the story: “One day, a loser wakes up to discover he made the headlines everywhere during a lethal Pandemic.” You can read the complete story by scrolling down. I would love to see some honest comments! Cheers!


Covered in sweat and feeling a pain of uneasiness in his chest, Dickie woke up almost an hour before his alarm clock set off. He quickly hurried to the bathroom, turned on the tap, squirted some liquid soap onto his palm and began rubbing his hands in the harshest way anybody had ever done. He started silent counting and stopped when he reached 22. Twenty seconds were enough to kill the virus that might have been residing on his hands, but he’d always do a couple of seconds extra just to be on the safe side. He dried his hands with a paper towel and disposed it right away. With the corner of his eye, he checked his paper towel stock sitting proudly on the shelves. Yep, the remaining 37 huge rolls would be more than enough to last him in case paper-towel shortages started. Encouraged by his vast paper towel collection and not feeling well to his usual standards, he turned on the tap for another 22 seconds and peeled more skin off his hands.

It was the beginning of a huge day. The previous week he’d gone to the emergency service of the memorial hospital for Anoroc-91 testing. He had all the symptoms; a mild diarrhea, a little muscle pain especially in the back, dry coughing a couple of times throughout the day, shortness of breath accompanied by a mild fever. He’d waited a couple of days before he went to the hospital for a test as he couldn’t be sure if he was developing symptoms due to his own precautious actions. Since the world has been taken over by this pandemic, he’d completely changed the way he lived his life. He set up the heater at least ten degrees as he was informed by social media that the virus couldn’t survive in higher temperatures. This could be the reason he felt his elevated body heat. His diarrhea could be just because he’d changed his diet to natural Anoroc-repelling food advertised by a well-being specialist he’d been following on Twitter. His shortness of breath could be explained by not taking his protective mask off even when he was home alone. On another note, he was always home alone. Not that he was following strict self isolation techniques, but because he didn’t have any friends. “Darn!” he mumbled to himself. Where did he put the new batch of masks?

The landline phone rang, but he couldn’t get it in time as he was too busy putting on his latex gloves to pick it up. It was too bad that these old models didn’t display missed calls. He was sure though that he missed the call about his test results as his phone only rang three or four times during a full year. And it was only March! Angry to himself, he ditched the gloves into the bin and sanitized the receiver thoroughly to save time for the next ring. He just hoped they would call soon as the wait had already been messing up his nearly non-existent sanity. Not having anything better to do, he turned on his laptop and logged-in to his Twitter account. It was a pity that his cell phone, where he usually checked his messages and social media, was totally wrecked after laying it in alcohol bed for quick sterilization. The coffee table the laptop was on, was just making him bend lower than usual and have back pain after an hour of computer time. But, this time he wasn’t planning on spending more than ten minutes on Twitter, perhaps only a bit longer if he found some new information on the virus itself.

Surprisingly, the Twitter trending topic list had his name on the very top: “#dickielrowbotham”. That was strange. He never thought someone sharing his uncommon full name to be trending. It wasn’t him for sure. He was a nobody. But seriously, how many Dickie L. Rowbothams, down to the middle initial, could be in the whole world? He tapped on the topic and started scrolling down millions of uninformative tweets:

Terence Woodbury, a guy with a profile pic of a slam dunk close-up tweeted: “Don’t be a dick! Be a dickie and save the world! #dickielrowbotham #anoroc-91 #anaroc91 #anaracvirus

The next few tweets were emojis of thumbs-up or closed fists… or combinations of these two with varying smileys.

Another tweet by a certain well-known celebrity, complete with a blue tick next to the name, was saying: “Yay #dickielrowbotham“. It had nearly 90k likes, 28k retweets and nearly as many comments.

Dickie got frustrated as he scrolled down the never-ending tweets. There was not a single tweet giving him an insight on what was happening!

Then, he saw it! A doctor, or at least that was what his username “dr.chadwick8080” implied, had tweeted: “As the acting director of Springwell Memorial Hospital, I can neither confirm nor deny the discovery of immune cells in a suspected patients blood work. It’s just too early for a final verdict and false hope does not help in this case. #dickielrowbotham #anoroc-91 #stayhome

Dr. Chadwick? Springwell Memorial? That was where Dickie had his Anoroc test! The tweet didn’t really seem like it was written by a real doctor, but even if that was true, it was still a weird coincidence.

The phone started ringing while Dickie was still trying to make heads or tails of the whole thing. This time he was quickly on his feet and answered the phone in record time:

“Hello! This is Dickie speaking.” He said with a trembling voice.

“Hello Mr. Rowbotham,” The voice answered. “I am Doctor Richard Chadwick from Springwell Memorial Hospital. I am calling about your blood test results regarding Anoroc-91.”

“Yes?” Dickie said in a shaky tone after a brief pause.

“We have discovered certain antibodies in your blood that prevent the Aronoc virus,” he said. “To put it boldly, you are immune Mr. Rowbotham. We would like to invite you here and run some more tests and perhaps you could be the one saving all of us,” he concluded.

“Wait! Wait! How is it possible that I am just hearing about this now. Twitter is flooding with this ‘new discovery’,” he glared.

“We couldn’t reach you before Mr. Rowbotham!” Dr. Chadwick said calmly.

“Yeah, like 20 minutes ago. And I’ve been staying home since I got tested.” Dickie replied losing the timid tone. “It’s been spreading on Twitter faster than Anoroc ever could. Just tell me how this happened and I might consider coming there.”

Dr. Chadwick cleared his throat before answering. “Your test results came yesterday morning and we… yadda, yadda, yadda…” The doctor spoke some more. but all Dickie could make out from the long technical details were the words: “immune cells”, “antibodies” and “vaccine”. He finally came to Dickie’s initial question. “… and I told my wife about it. I didn’t know she had a whatsapp group of about 80 senior citizens. And the rest is that people have been sharing this story for the past ten hours or so. I am so sorry, but we had to make sure before we contacted you.”

“But, you tweeted as well.”

“I don’t have a Twitter account, Mr. Rowbotham,” he replied. “Please drop by today, as soon as possible.”

“Ok.” Dickie said before hanging up.

He ran his hand through his hair slowly as he could. God, how he missed these simplest actions. Fearing infection, he’d been refraining himself from touching his face or head for the past couple of months. Next, he binned the sanitizers in his house. He hated the smell, besides he didn’t need protection now. And the best of all, he didn’t have to isolate himself in a 2-bedroomed-house anymore. He wasn’t really a people person, but observing them from time to time while seated at a cafe, sipping his latte did make him feel a bit more joyous. Whistling to himself, he got dressed and got out without wearing the usual latex gloves. He walked all the way to the hospital.

It was way more crowded at the front door of the hospital. Media outlets, reporters, ordinary people who didn’t look sick swarmed the steps leading to the entrance. The security guards were not allowing anyone to pass. So, Dickie had to shout from the back to be able to get through:

“Hey! I am Dickie L. Rowbotham. Dr. Chadwick is expecting me!” The clamor instantly ended and every glare was pinned on him in no time.

People made way just enough for him to pass, but kept touching him; rubbing their hands all over him as he got closer to the security guards. Just before he reached the top step, one very attractive blonde held him by the collar, drew him towards her and gave him a firm, longish kiss, possibly with the intentions of healthy droplets transfer… A shortcut to immunity perhaps. A media reporter also made a move with her mike, but was blocked by one of the guards before he could take action. After presenting his ID, Dickie was taken to an empty waiting lounge. 5 minutes later, a couple of doctors showed up and introduced themselves. One was Dr. Chadwick, and the other one, the woman was Dr. Hill.

Dr. Hill was the one who spoke:

“Mr. Rowbotham, thank you for coming. We prepared a spacious room exclusive for you,” she smiled.

“A room?” Dickie echoed. “What for?”

“To start working on a cure right away, of course.” Dr. Chadwick said. “Your room has an en-suite bathroom and a marvelous view from its window.”

“No, I won’t be staying!” Dickie said raising his voice. “Just take my blood and let me go.”

“I’m afraid we can’t allow that.” Dr. Chadwick said as he signaled to a couple of orderlies in the distance. “You’re the cure and we’re doing this for the greater good.”

“Noooo!” Dickie shouted as the orderlies began dragging him to his isolated room.

“Don’t worry, the vaccine will be out and approved in less than a couple of years.” Dr. Hill smiled behind her mask. “The clock already started ticking!”