We take for granted that some things just ‘are’, and never question them because they have always been. We blindly accept that it is rude to stare, wrong to lie and yet not acceptable to be brutally honest. For a moment consider why nudists are considered outside of the norm, or what makes rich better than poor. This is an exercise to expand your mind, to question your judgment and explore the concept of ‘normal’ and ‘right’.
Imagine waking to a world that was backwards or upside down. What if right was left, wrong was right and north was south? No one is aware of these changes but your character. What would the character think or feel? How would they react? How difficult would it be to adjust to a world where nothing is what it used to be?
For this challenge you will write a scene of a maximum 500 words, in 3rd Person Limited POV, showing an upside down world. Only your character knows it is different, no one else is aware. I want you to try to refrain from allowing your own judgement to show in this scene, leave that to the characters.
Here's my entry:
As he studied the papers in front of him, Betty tried to figure out how he had attached the beak to his face. Perhaps an elastic string or glue, but she couldn't see anything. He looked up at her, his beady eyes drilling her, as if he could take her apart to see all her flaws. The beak opened and closed, and then he cleared his throat.
To keep from staring, Betty glanced down at herfeet in their high-heeled boots, the hem of her black suit dress reaching down to her ankles. What was up with these people? The man had a bird beak; the receptionist had a black goat's nose and horns that curled out of the sides of her head. Great makeup jobs, but this was ridiculous.
"You meet all the requirements for the job," the man said. "You are punctual and precise. Everything looks perfect, plus you are the only one applying for the position. But I'm sorry, we just can't hire you."
"Why?!?! I need this job!"
"We don't hire squirrels." The man looked down his long, long beak at her.
"But—but—but that's racist!" Betty wadded her hands into fists, and her limbs shook like a volcano about to erupt. She imagined biting that big beak of his—she'd chop it off with her teeth and bury it for winter. "And I'm not a squirrel. I'm human!"
He tilted his head. A strange squawking sound erupted from that beak. The bird was laughing at her.
Ice crawled up her spine and tingled the back of her nose. She looked down—two furry little paws replaced her hands.
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Come play! Join in the fun, read what's already been posted, and submit your own scene for February's challenge.