Proteans: We-Write #13 - Prompt: The Host


Image by GDJ from Pixabay

@Zeldacroft

@freewritehouse

We-Write #13 - Prompt: The Host

A swift glance at the orb again raised Jonny's anxiousness to an even higher level. He was running out of time. The orb had slowly turned from silver to crimson with his deposits. Three-fourths full. Just one more, he thought. The caller interrupted his thoughts.

"Hi, Jonny. I'm Owen from the west side. Got a problem I need your help with," the bubbling young man declared loudly.

"What can I help you with? Jonny flicked the pen as through writing down the young man's issue. But his mind was far away from the studio wondering how dire the situation was becoming. So he had no other choice but continue.

"I understand what you're going through. Are you or your girlfriend Brunette, Blonde; or Redhead?" Jonny said hoarsely.

Steven chuckled as he adjusted the sound on the equipment. He heard static and couldn't understand what Jonny was asking.

Not the match he needed. He hurried the 1st called off the line, then continued his sessions, rushing through the interviews. He couldn't stop because he didn't dare scour the hospitals. He repeated the same question to the other callers. Fifty, and no match.

He'd started to get migraines. At least that's how the TV personalities described it. And they should know what they're talking about!

He felt tired. Not the kind of tiredness that comes from a long day, but the inner clock that was his lifeline ticking slowly. He could feel his own life charge draining. But he couldn't afford to touch the orb. Her existence depended on it.

Jonny couldn't understand why everyone wasn't the same. It would have make his search easier. Let this be the one, he thought. Even though he didn't know what it meant, he said some words he'd heard watching TBN.

Steven interrupted Jonny's thoughts saying, "last caller".

"Hi, Barbara, Jonny said. Since you're my last caller, got a special prize for you: an extra five minutes with the host."

"Wow, thanks Jonny," Barbara wheezed, "I'm having trouble with my car. I think I bought a lemon. Can you help me?" Jonny barely listened as he interrupted her with the question he needed answered. Stunned this caller was a match, although only 1%, he obtained her contact information, grabbed his coat and the orb from his desk, and headed to meet her.

Siobbhan waited until twilight before emerging from the dwelling into the open. Even though she could smell the water, the air tasted dry. She thought about how they had planned their escape for months. But something went wrong as the gravity pulled them towards this moon.

Worried they would never be located, Siobbhan watched as the signal on her orb faded. Desperate to lock onto it, she drained the last of her lifeline. Her thin, pale face and body was deteriorating at an accelerated pace. As she fell slowly to the rocks beneath her, she thought about their new safe haven.

Image by darksouls1 from Pixabay

Feeling Siobbhan's lifeline near zero, Jonny aborted his plans to meet the last caller. He quickly shed his facade and changed directions. Host no more.

As Protean neared the river, he spotted his wife's lifeless frame. Crushing the orb to release its contents, he swept up the receptacle contained within and rushed to Siobbhan's side. Forcing her mouth open, he deposited the rare nourishment.

Image by CJ from Pixabay

Weak, but responding, they embraced. "I never wanted anyone to pay for my mistakes, she said with a said countenance." Protean pulled her closer and responded wearily, "No one did, my love." Our relocation moon doesn't condone the suffering of innocents. What I took, I returned twofold. Now they can communicate with us if they desire."

The outer rim of the sky seemed to split as through the diamond-shaped object had ripped it to penetrate the skyline. Siobbhan's orb pulsated rapidly as the defector ship located her signal.

Protean swept up his wife and carried her to the intercept point. They glazed up as the particles flowed down and surrounded first Siobbhan, then Protean as in a dust cloud. They could see they weren't the only ones the defector ship was carrying to safety. Her orb enveloped both of them, glowing blue and red.

The sky parted, ready to receive them with open arms. Their destiny yet to be written in their new home.

Now safely aboard, one figure small; the other large, with outlines shaped as if hand prints were pressed against the windows, waived a farewell to the humans who helped save them -- the host and his wife.
JonnyandSiobbhanAscent.png

Created in Canva w/images by Quadronet_Webdesign and ShortSword of Pixabay

Thanks,
@justclickindiva

Happy rest of the week everyone with whatever you are working on.


SOURCES:
a) JustClickin logo created at CoolText.Com
b) Unless otherwise noted, all photos taken by me with my (i) Samsung Galaxy 10" Tablet, & (ii) FUJI FinePix S3380 - 14 Mega Pixels Digital Camera
c) Purple Butterfly part of purchased set of Spiritual Clip Art for my Personal Use
d) All Tribe logos used with permission of Tribe Discord Channel admins.



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4 comments
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To tell you the truth you lost me there. I couldn't figure out what was it that Jonny was asking and what did it have to do with his dying wife. Then again I am not a native speaker and also perhaps am not familiar with the legend of Siobbhan and Protean...

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Hi @mgaft1. Thanks for stopping by. The story is a mystery. The clue was with his question to his callers. What he said into the microphone was different than what the callers heard. Their answer was what he needed to find out whether they were a match. The station manager couldn't quite figure it out either.

Appreciate your comments. Have a great rest of the day/evening.

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