'Posterity'

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

'Posterity'
AN ORIGINAL STORT
CREATED AND WRITTEN BY
Payton Gilbert

‘Posterity’

 

AN ORIGINAL STORY

CREATED AND WRITTEN BY

Payton Gilbert

 

 

       
 
   
 


 

May 11th, 2025

Los Angeles, California

 

The delicate eyes open to a morning of vibrant sunshine gleaming over the liquidity of these dreamy crystal blue eyes. Rubbing them, the young woman shifts her body comfortably between the naked man and woman on either side of her on the bed, who are still sound asleep. Around the bed are dozens of empty bottles, some of which include Crown Royale, Jose Cúero, Jack Daniel’s Gentlemen Jack, Jim Beam whisky, Patrón, and The Balvenie Doublewood whisky. Among the alcoholic beverages are cigarette butts sprinkled throughout the room surrounding her. Lying in this bed between last night’s lovers is Danielle Posterity, who attempts to calm her stirring mind after last night’s partying, sex, drinking, smoking, more drinking, followed by an even more intense round of sex and drinking. Gazing to the edge of the bed, a mirror reflects her messy hair and glossy diamond blue eyes. Glancing to the nightstand in the reflection, her gaze is caught on a half-empty bottle of Crown Royale resting on the smooth dark wood. Licking her glossy lips, Danielle reaches for the bottle and leans it sideways to get a few sips down. After a couple more gulps, she sets it back upwards on the nightstand, now with more ease as it is completely drained of liquid.

Leaning her head back, the beautiful young woman embraces the delicious taste and internal tingling that the alcohol provides. If only it were full again, so she could drink more, if only there was another beverage positioned so close to where she would not have to disturb the sleeping woman to her right. Closing her eyes, all she can think about is the imagination of that bottle of whisky full of liquid enrichment. Carefully crawling over Brittany, Danielle slouches on the edge of the bed with one hand on her head and the other on the lip of the bottle. Snug between getting her thoughts together and waking her numb limbs, a quiet vibration radiates from the glass bottle in her hand. Causing a slight rattle on the wood, she lifts her head from her palm to see the bottle beneath her grasp. Raising it up, combined confusion and surprise strikes her at the sight of more whisky filling about half of what she thought was just and empty bottle seconds ago. No time to overthink, as it begins to bring forth a headache, she raises the bottle and happily gulps the deliciously smooth liquid.

Hours later, Danielle’s nagging headache and tingling sensations seem to sizzle away. Comforted in a small home within ‘Anomalic Springs’ neighborhood, placed inside a quiet section of the city, the twenty-one-year-old dries her hair off with a towel, sets her phone on the nightstand, then slips into some undergarments and a pair of shorts. As she slips on a pair of socks at the edge of her bed, she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror in front of her. Recalling the strange occurrence earlier, she sets her right arm down and reaches out with her left. Focusing on the dirty blue shirt messily on the ground, Danielle hones in on her thoughts and remains focused on the feeling swirling her mind. Glancing to the mirror, she sees herself reaching out, then she looks back to the shirt. With a tingle through each phalange, some strange force alters the shirt ten feet away, disintegrating each string of fiber and stitches seamed from visibility. Sitting up, she takes a deep breath, and upon release, a quick jolt runs down her arm. Created through each piece, a dark brown and cream white checkerboard stretches out, and grows two sets of queens, kings, rooks, pawns, knights, and bishops. Both fascinated and surprised, the beautiful woman pulls her arm back.

Daniel

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

Shaken, Danielle jumps back a bit and quickly looks to the source of the voice, which lies in front of her. In the mirror, a man with a cigarette in his hand fills the human-occupied space where she takes up on her end. Going in for another inhale of his cigarette, a long-haired, dark brown color fills in around his masculine face. On his body, faded black jeans and black and white converse coats his lower half, while a rose-pink shirt and a black bomber jacket covers his body.

Danielle

“What are you?”

Daniel

“Well, first off, I’m someone who has some goddamn common sense- someone who doesn’t drink themselves fucking blind.”

Danielle

“Doesn’t quite answer my question. Are you real?”

Daniel

“I’m the only real one between the two of us. What you see is how things are supposed to be, not your fake-ass lips and meshed together brain.”

Danielle

“Whatever you are, you’re kind of an asshole.”

Daniel

“Over here, I’m a sweaty-banging, vaginal-exiting being. You’re not supposed to be at all.”

Danielle

(leaning forward)

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. This has been an odd day already, and I’m probably going to wake up from this dream in a few minutes, anyway.”

Daniel

“I don’t know how else to say this; over here, things are real, and over there, you’re a mix of genetics and mechanics. I bet it has been quite a weird day, given you’ve done things you’re not supposed to be doing. Believe it or not, it’s fucking things up over here.”

Looking down to her hands, Danielle thinks back to this morning when she thought the whisky was empty and then it was suddenly halfway full. Then, the instance just moments ago where the blue shirt somehow disappeared, and out from a transforming of matter, a chessboard and pieces grew in its place. Now, a strange man is in the mirror telling her to completely ditch these newfound gifts. Looking back up to him, the man’s face grows a frown as he flicks his cigarette to the ground.

Daniel

“You fucking pussy. You need to stop messing with reality and stop being afraid to just go back to normal. I’d actually prefer you get blackout drunk and smoke, and screw all the men and women you want. Just don’t alter life’s balance, Danielle.”

Hearing a light vibration from her nightstand, Danielle backs over to see her phone turned on and beginning to play a song. Turning back to the mirror, all that is visible is the room as it is and her own blue eyes gazing back at her. Playing through her phone, ‘Suspicious Minds’ by Elvis Presley sends a soothing tune through the medium-set speaker;

Elvis

(In the song)

“…Why can’t you see

What you’re doing to me

When you don’t believe a word I say?

 

We can’t go on together

With suspicious minds

And we can’t build our dreams

On suspicious minds…”

Reaching for her phone on the nightstand, Danielle stops the song and swipes down to see her notifications. Finding forty missed calls and twelve unread texts, some of them involve the following: her removal from grandfather’s will, a few messages from family saying how upset or disappointed they are, two from the man and Brittany, saying how much they enjoyed last night, and a few scam texts claiming she has won a new SUV or a million dollars. Only texting the man and Brittany back with thankful and sweet messages, she turns the screen off and tosses her phone to the side. Shortly after, she sees the screen light up from an oncoming call- it’s Brittany. After a warming greeting, the two catch up for a minute with a few laughs sprinkled in. A few more comments later, Danielle asks if Brittany could come over tonight… she says yes. Immediately thrilled, the young woman begins to clean up around the house while intermittently drinking cups of coffee. As the darker side of this afternoon comes around, Danielle emerges from the restroom with a red cocktail dress and hair nicely curled. Grabbing a lighter from her dresser, she walks into the dining room to light the candle in between two sets of plates, silverware, and empty glasses. Not long afterwards, Brittany arrives, allowing the two to have a nice dinner and laugh amongst each other. Now and then, they would both look up to catch a glance into the other’s softly glazed eyes and a sly smile. The candlelight beginning to go out, Danielle flicks the bottom of it, creating a longer wick and surrounding wax. Luckily, her guest was tipping her head back in downing the rest of her red wine.

Migrating to the living room, the two consume four more glasses of wine, and later, Danielle crafts four strawberry-kiwi margaritas. With tingly feelings and loose shoulders, Danielle takes Brittany’s hand and leads her into the bedroom. Taking a drink, Danielle passes her margarita to Brittany, who takes a drink as well. Laying back onto the bed, Danielle raises her arm to create a mini-fridge full of Coors Light. Brittany sets the glass down, and the two begin removing each other’s clothing. All that either of them wears now is their bras and lacy underwear. Receiving kisses, Brittany slowly sprinkles her lip’s touch down her neck, down her chest, down her stomach, and stopping between her legs. Looking down to see her graze her underwear, a pleasurable tingle rises from her vagina. Just as foreplay were to begin, Brittany is shoved backwards onto the soft-carpeted floor and knocked out cold. Standing above her is Daniel, a scowling expression, and a cigar in his hand, followed by his returning dark wardrobe.

Daniel

“You’re a five-star bitch, asshole, and a lying sack of shit. Why do you have to keep throwing the tranquility off balance? I told you to fucking stop.”

Sitting up, Danielle raises her arm to craft a Walther PPK automatic pistol, already racked. Firing it off at Daniel, he takes in the bullets, causing them to melt as soon as they strike his body. Moving towards Danielle, he charges his arm to bring it forward, punching her in the mouth. Raising her arm up, she fires the gun in his direction, missing him and leaving the traveling bullet to strike the mirror, shattering it to pieces. Turning around, Daniel looks to the fragmented pieces with electrified horror.

Daniel

“Are you out of your mind?! You’re a fucking cunt. You are a goddamn fucking cunt!”

Dropping his arms, Daniel takes a deep breath and slumps down to the edge of the bed, putting his cigar out on the edge of her bed and tossing it to the ground. Danielle reaches up to rub her jaw.  

Danielle

“I have a question.”

Daniel

“What is it, now?”

Danielle

“You had mentioned something about being real, whereas you say I’m not a naturally born person.”

Daniel

“Exactly.”

Danielle

“Well, what about my family name? Posterity.”

Daniel

(Lifting his head to face her)

“All future generations of people or the direct descendants of someone.”

Danielle

“What if your problem is that we’re both, and you can’t be a direct descendant to a person who wasn’t born, or in your case for me, who doesn’t exist.”

Daniel

“If posterity were true, for you, you wouldn’t exist since you’re not a being of natural birth, but rather an alternate creation.”

Danielle

“Perhaps, that’s the point. The future descendants of an altered person would lead to anomalies, craters in the balance of life. The way I see it, we’re living in a world between chaos and control, sequential growth and spontaneous occurrences.

Daniel

“Two sides of the same coin?”

Danielle

“Not quite. It’s more like a coin with three sides. There’s my world, the heads, where everything travels in a normal state. Yours is the tails, where I suppose your kind can do weird shit like altering and transforming particles of matter. The third is the side of a coin, where the two meet in a conjoined state of tranquility. The good, the evil, and everything in between, where we operate.”

Daniel

(A smile growing)

“Well, with that line of thinking, Mrs. Posterity, we shall coexist exquisitely.”

 

 

The End

Of

 

‘Posterity’

 

Created and Written by

Payton Gilbert


Submitted: January 20, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Payton Gilbert. All rights reserved.

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