Prompt Fiction

PROMPT : GRIDLOCKED

“You have got to be kidding me!” Kevin groaned. He slumped over the steering wheel, forehead pressed to the sun-warmed surface. All he wanted to do was get home in time for his little sister’s birthday party.

Considering that he had the specially-ordered cake and half of the decorations, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as good as a party without them. Staring out into the lines of gridlocked commuters on their way home, he stifled another groan.

Chiara’s birthday was special for her—and the whole family. The precious sun-child was granted movement for that one day out of the entire year.

A single beam of sunlight cut through the passenger side of the window, lingering atop the bakery box with the special-order cake.

Kevin stared at it for a moment, before he realized the sparkling beam was waiting on him. He hastily grabbed the cake off of the seat, keeping a half-glance on the traffic. It still hadn’t moved.

But the split-second of distraction was all that Chiara needed to materialize in the passenger seat, her sparkling, shimmering skin gleaming in the afternoon light.

“Kevin!” she chirped. “I came to get you—I couldn’t wait.”

He smiled, fondly. “Happy birthday, kid.”

Chiara beamed. “Is that my cake?”

“Yeah—you can hold it, but no peeking. You have to be surprised on camera.”

“M’kay,” she hummed, making grabby fingers at the pastel box. She held it carefully in her lap, sitting still when Kevin reached over to secure her seatbelt. “Oops. Forgot.”

Kevin’s smile wavered. “Did you get to—go out?”

Chiara half-shrugged, her own smile fading ever so slightly. “No reason to,” she said, softly. “I would’ve been in the way.”

“…Did they have you running drills all day?”

Chiara drooped. “A power this strong should be properly harnessed for the good of-“

“Of the person who holds it,” Kevin interrupted. “Don’t repeat that bast—that monster’s words. You’re not a machine. You’re a living being. Freezing you in place to siphon solar energy—if that’s even what you radiate—is cruel and unusual-“

“Not today, please,” Chiara said, quietly. “Please?”

Kevin frowned. The traffic inched forward a little bit. But when their exit finally came up, he drove on past.

Chiara blinked. “Um, you-“

“Oops,” he deadpanned. “Looks like I missed the exit. We might be late.”

There was a beat of silence, then Chiara bowed her head, a faint grin visible from the side.

(c) S. Harricharan