Unwanted Gesture

The devil makes three

Hey! What makes a good deal?

The balance between giving up what you can while receiving what you want is a difficult game.

Most pay lip service to the idea of a win/win scenario, but I doubt anyone is fully okay with a complete concession.

That’s where the bittersweet taste of victory plays tricks on the mind.

The Faustian temptation to ignore long-term consequences is as human as sin itself.

A hefty preamble to the point.

I came across a flash fiction challenge set up by

Nico Harlakenden

here on Substack:

STCKTMBR: Blood in the Mouth, Fruit in the Hand

Every Monday this month, she has a prompt ready and has invited anyone and everyone who wishes to participate to write a little something playing on the theme.

2025 weekly prompts: The Forbidden Cycle

• Sept 1—The Bargain

  A deal struck under duress. The cost is greater than the reward.

• Sept 8—The Offering

  A gift or sacrifice that changes everything.

• Sept 15—The Threshold

  Crossing into a place you can’t cross back from.

• Sept 22—Buried Alive

  What refuses to stay dead.

That sounds like a fun time to me!

It’s a nice way to get back into my own writing and not have to worry so much about providing insights or otherwise twisting my words into ever more convoluted ad reads.

Let’s jump right in, shall we?

Permafrost #1 The Bargain

“There’s no more trees.” I looked at her and she looked at me. We wandered far with humanity’s last hope and final wish.

“Do you think they’ll remember?” Our coats were thick. The layers of fabric hid the features of her face. Even against the endless white and whipping wind, I knew she was smiling. Somehow.

Otherwise, our task was simple. We were meant to scout the frontier in search of that fabled hot ice. A new source of fuel that could shield the flame of civilization from harshest nature for another night.

We had burned through everything else and the risks were finally deemed worth the reward.

An understandable position given the alternative of annihilation.

“Remember what?” My voice was still strong. I believed in our mission. There was never any doubt of the greater good we served. The crimes of our grandfathers were more than paid in full. “Methane clathrate is all that matters now.”

“No, you goofy goober!” I could make out her laughter as a muffled giggle ripping past her fur-lined hood. She found it funny when I used the scientific name for our legendary quest.

And like always, that moment passed quickly before all sound was raptured by another howl. The cold, the white, the dark, and the desperation. I grew used to all of it, but I was never prepared for the loudness of the wind.

Sometimes I thought about it too much. How this invisible force pushed us to and fro. The hand of god shuffling clouds and weather, mixing the ice and snow with drafts and doubt.

We needed to huddle together when we were in the field during a storm. Official protocol was to never leave a shelter under blizzard conditions.

We made a mutinous executive decision once it was clear how limited our options were becoming.

“Well, there’s not much more worth remembering.” I tried to lighten the mood under the cold and heavy air. We grew closer like that. Letting go of an intense embrace to continue the trek into the tundra.

“I mean you and me!” She reached for my hand again just as I moved away from her body. I let her grab it. It felt nice to know where we were. That’s a bit of overstatement though.

I mean it quite poetically.

We lost our sense of direction that far north. Compasses were no longer very useful and most electronic equipment ate up too much of our precious fuel.

A simple touch let us know we weren’t alone. In an infinite plane, we could always find our relative positions.

Another gust of wind and snow was flying all around us. Up and down and side to side.

“And you thought taking the ship through that frozen ocean required strong sea legs.” I tried to keep the mood with another easy joke. I felt responsible for lightening the mood in that way. I don’t know why. “I tell you what, Cristalla. I think this place would make any sailor nauseous after less than an hour of walking through the white!”

Cristalla always kept spirits high enough for the two of us, but it wasn’t fair for her to bear that burden alone. I was never one to be a cheer leader, but maybe she was just rubbing off on me.

“Well, those sailors better show up!” Cristalla could joke right back despite the pain in every step. And perhaps pain is the wrong word. Our feet were numb and that was more than half the danger. If the cold bites too deep then it would really be over.

Humanity’s last gambit lost in a bad bargain.

“Show up to save us?” I asked, looking around again trying to find any bearings. We would need to figure out how to get back soon. We still hadn’t found any of the hot ice, or methane clathrate if you prefer, and we couldn’t die before we ever found any at all. That would make the whole journey pointless.

So, I will not die.

And I won’t let her die.

Not before me.

“They’ll throw parades!” Cristalla raised my hand up. She captured me in her imagined world. A life where we could stand in front of a public of adoring fans. Some important politician introducing us to the world. I could hear them cheer and shout as the city lights turned on.

No rationing anymore.

I shook my head and soon returned to the brutal world in front of us, watching for rays of sunlight. I desperately wanted to witness the slightest hint from any god who may have heard our prayers. But all hope struggled to pierce the white.

And another gust blew cold dust in my eyes.

I fell to the ground with a thud. I couldn’t help but smile.

We were never going home. This was the end.

“Lathis!” Cristalla called out my name and kneeled down beside me. Her knees must have been so cold. You never get used to the feeling. The frozen earth that grows deeper and deeper. All roots are stunted before they can even think to dream of sprouting.

“Cristalla…”

“Lathis!” My eyes were still closed, but I could tell Cristalla had on that serious face of hers. She’d push her eyebrows together as she emphasized my name. I thought it looked cute, but I could never tell her. She grabbed my hand again and held it to her heart. “Promise you’ll go to the parade with me! We’ll be welcomed as heroes! And you know they won’t let me stand up in front of everyone alone! Imagine how embarrassing that’d be? What a shame for everyone in the world!”

“Cristalla…” I said her name again. “How did we end up in this mess?”

Everyone from our generation knew the story. Resources were always limited, but nobody ever listened. The front line was pushed until the last drop was spent.

It wasn’t an immediate shock. More like slow ripples that never stopped.

The food supply falling short was when soldiers finally deserted en masse. Some say the fools hoped for an immediate apocalypse, but we were blessed with hope.

The reality of the world shrunk all worries and woes. The common enemy was given the name of survival, and we worked toward that shared goal, endlessly.

By the time Cristalla and I were born, it was all anyone had ever known. Lost leadership and crumbling infrastructure against a rising tide of forgotten innovation.

“You know how the story goes.” Cristalla dragged me up by my arm and helped me sit up straight. “But let’s not get into a history lesson! You’ll freeze if you lay on the ground!”

She was right. It would be a quick and easy death. But I had already promised not to die.

Not before her.

“How much farther is it to the next site now?” I asked, knowing all too well neither of us had a satisfying answer.

“It shouldn’t be too long.” Cristalla looked around. We didn’t have the time or the supplies to check another deposit. We needed to go home to our shelter if we wanted to save any hope at all.

There were no trees. No landmarks. Just white in every direction.

“Let’s put a flag down and continue along this route tomorrow.” I started fishing through my supplies. It was hard to find the right tools with such thick gloves.

“Okay… But only because you promised me, Lathis!” Cristalla helped me set up the flagpole. It would be gone by morning, but it made us feel better to go through the motions. “We’re both making it back for the parade, alright?”

“Yeah.” We planted the flag as deep in the frozen ground as it would go. “I promise, Cristalla.”

We were the best of what was left.

The ins and outs of a bargain that got us that far are a convoluted mess of bylaws and bylines.

None of that mattered as long as we promised to still be there together.

Continue reading: Permafrost #2 The Offering “Burning Ice”

Hopeful Melancholy

I took a little longer to write this piece of flash fiction. I realized after I started that I had words but no story.

What was worse was how I leaned into themes that felt too dark in a time when I want to embrace a kind of hopeful melancholy. It’s okay for a story to be a little sad, but not to be void of all hope.

At least, that’s the kind of story I want to tell.

I also originally thought I’d make the text more mystical and have some kind of divine power intervene for a cliché deal with the devil.

But that felt derivative and trite and I wanted to try keeping things a bit more human in scale.

It will certainly be fun to see how this evolves over the month. My goal, above all, is to make sure there’s some kind of cathartic ending.

So, let me know if I’m off the mark when the bell tolls!

Until next time,

—JMB