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Mind Stealer
The mind is a powerful thing, people say. It can control you; make or break your very own life. To be able to know the minds of others, well, that’d be considered a revelation! That's what you’d think at least. Now I disagree.
I walk along the crowded road as people throw unwanted statements at me. I can hardly even distinguish anything in crowds like these, all I hear is the annoying buzz of human thoughts overlayed with the even more annoying buzz of people talking aloud.
You’d think I'd move to a calmer city in the countryside but, unfortunately, New York City is the only place that has a good enough job opportunity. Being a lawyer is pretty simple when you can read minds, after all. Despite NYC’s high prices, the job I have pays well enough for me to live a relatively stable life.
I finally make it out of the hellhole that is any New York street and enter a quiet coffee shop. The coffee is good here and the prices are cheap so I often find myself visiting. It also helps that the place rarely gets much attention which means much fewer thoughts to distract myself.
After I take my seat, I notice a young woman sitting nearby. Her thoughts practically jump out at me, talking of fairytales and fantasy. Usually, a single voice like this is easy to tune out, but I find myself listening to the intriguing story.
Most people have jumbled out thoughts jumping from one idea to another spontaneously. She, however, has thoughts that flow like a story. It's almost as if she’s reading aloud on a stage for dozens to listen to.
I find myself staring and the woman looks over as if sensing it. I look away awkwardly, almost forgetting she wasn’t talking to me directly.
Her stare doesn't relent.
“Why has that man been staring for so long?” She wonders. “Should I ask him about it?” Part of me wishes I could answer, but I know that would bring up an entirely different string of questions.
I focus back on my work, or attempt at least, but my mind can't help but drift back to her thoughts. She continues her story and I listen as if it’s an audiobook.
The story tells of a fantasy where two lovers from enemy kingdoms share a power that pulls them together. It seems cliche on the front, but the way she thinks it has this charm that I can’t quite put my finger on. She has a document open as well, but it seems as if her mind has to play the story out before her hands can type the draft.
The time runs by like seconds and soon enough it’s already noon. A good few other people have also entered the cafe by now, but her thoughts entrapped me so well that I completely tuned them out.
I quickly leave before my mind can become entangled once again.
. . .
Her thoughts don't leave me once I arrive home. Even the loud neighbors stomping upstairs and the ocean of thoughts whispering from outside can't wipe it away from my mind.
I've heard my fair share of interesting thoughts, even from other authors similar to her, but her thoughts feel different. I shake my thoughts away. I should already know the problem with lingering thoughts like these, I hear it every day.
I open my work computer to complete the work I failed to do earlier and come across an ominous email from my boss. “Job Status,” it reads. I click on it, confounded.
I read through the email, then read it again, and then one more time just to be sure. My eyes focus on one line, “Due to your lack of experience and capability, we are choosing to let you go from the company.”
My lack of capability? I can read minds for god’s sake! All of my clients so far have won their cases and I've only been working for 3 months to top it off!
I take a deep breath. How have I not seen this coming? My boss’s thoughts have always been approving, but I should’ve gotten some hints. I suppose he hides his feelings in his head just as much as out.
I take another very deep breath. I need to figure something out, I can't go jobless for long.
My mind suddenly tracks back to a story, that story the woman thought of. Though I've never thought of myself as a publisher, her story holds great potential. I could imagine it becoming a bestseller in a matter of seconds! Though I don't have the qualifications, my mind-reading does a great deal when it comes to convincing people. If I could find her, maybe I could become a sort of partner in crime; help her with the book, and make a percentage of money off of it. Yes, it would take a while and I'd have to get a small job in the meantime, but it could work.
I pause for a second.
What ludicrous plan am I thinking? There are so many ways this could go wrong and, even if I find her again (which isn't likely), the chances of her letting this stranger help her with a book idea she hasn't even shared yet is non-existent.
I pause for another second
But what do I have to lose? It's not my now-done-for job, that’s for sure. If I find her and get to know her, I could introduce the idea naturally and, bam, success. I'm starting to feel empathy some of the crazy thoughts I’ve heard over my life and I sure as hell am glad no one can read my mind. I start to formulate a plan and prepare for the next day.
I mean, how much could really go wrong? I have what most would consider a superpower on my side!
[End of Part 1]
Author’s Note: Sorry if there are any mistakes as I’m no professional writer and this is more a just-for-fun short story! Also, theoretically, this is going to be a part one out of two or three, but that may change depending on how I’m feeling about the story later on.
© sodabubbles
I walk along the crowded road as people throw unwanted statements at me. I can hardly even distinguish anything in crowds like these, all I hear is the annoying buzz of human thoughts overlayed with the even more annoying buzz of people talking aloud.
You’d think I'd move to a calmer city in the countryside but, unfortunately, New York City is the only place that has a good enough job opportunity. Being a lawyer is pretty simple when you can read minds, after all. Despite NYC’s high prices, the job I have pays well enough for me to live a relatively stable life.
I finally make it out of the hellhole that is any New York street and enter a quiet coffee shop. The coffee is good here and the prices are cheap so I often find myself visiting. It also helps that the place rarely gets much attention which means much fewer thoughts to distract myself.
After I take my seat, I notice a young woman sitting nearby. Her thoughts practically jump out at me, talking of fairytales and fantasy. Usually, a single voice like this is easy to tune out, but I find myself listening to the intriguing story.
Most people have jumbled out thoughts jumping from one idea to another spontaneously. She, however, has thoughts that flow like a story. It's almost as if she’s reading aloud on a stage for dozens to listen to.
I find myself staring and the woman looks over as if sensing it. I look away awkwardly, almost forgetting she wasn’t talking to me directly.
Her stare doesn't relent.
“Why has that man been staring for so long?” She wonders. “Should I ask him about it?” Part of me wishes I could answer, but I know that would bring up an entirely different string of questions.
I focus back on my work, or attempt at least, but my mind can't help but drift back to her thoughts. She continues her story and I listen as if it’s an audiobook.
The story tells of a fantasy where two lovers from enemy kingdoms share a power that pulls them together. It seems cliche on the front, but the way she thinks it has this charm that I can’t quite put my finger on. She has a document open as well, but it seems as if her mind has to play the story out before her hands can type the draft.
The time runs by like seconds and soon enough it’s already noon. A good few other people have also entered the cafe by now, but her thoughts entrapped me so well that I completely tuned them out.
I quickly leave before my mind can become entangled once again.
. . .
Her thoughts don't leave me once I arrive home. Even the loud neighbors stomping upstairs and the ocean of thoughts whispering from outside can't wipe it away from my mind.
I've heard my fair share of interesting thoughts, even from other authors similar to her, but her thoughts feel different. I shake my thoughts away. I should already know the problem with lingering thoughts like these, I hear it every day.
I open my work computer to complete the work I failed to do earlier and come across an ominous email from my boss. “Job Status,” it reads. I click on it, confounded.
I read through the email, then read it again, and then one more time just to be sure. My eyes focus on one line, “Due to your lack of experience and capability, we are choosing to let you go from the company.”
My lack of capability? I can read minds for god’s sake! All of my clients so far have won their cases and I've only been working for 3 months to top it off!
I take a deep breath. How have I not seen this coming? My boss’s thoughts have always been approving, but I should’ve gotten some hints. I suppose he hides his feelings in his head just as much as out.
I take another very deep breath. I need to figure something out, I can't go jobless for long.
My mind suddenly tracks back to a story, that story the woman thought of. Though I've never thought of myself as a publisher, her story holds great potential. I could imagine it becoming a bestseller in a matter of seconds! Though I don't have the qualifications, my mind-reading does a great deal when it comes to convincing people. If I could find her, maybe I could become a sort of partner in crime; help her with the book, and make a percentage of money off of it. Yes, it would take a while and I'd have to get a small job in the meantime, but it could work.
I pause for a second.
What ludicrous plan am I thinking? There are so many ways this could go wrong and, even if I find her again (which isn't likely), the chances of her letting this stranger help her with a book idea she hasn't even shared yet is non-existent.
I pause for another second
But what do I have to lose? It's not my now-done-for job, that’s for sure. If I find her and get to know her, I could introduce the idea naturally and, bam, success. I'm starting to feel empathy some of the crazy thoughts I’ve heard over my life and I sure as hell am glad no one can read my mind. I start to formulate a plan and prepare for the next day.
I mean, how much could really go wrong? I have what most would consider a superpower on my side!
[End of Part 1]
Author’s Note: Sorry if there are any mistakes as I’m no professional writer and this is more a just-for-fun short story! Also, theoretically, this is going to be a part one out of two or three, but that may change depending on how I’m feeling about the story later on.
© sodabubbles
