Hotch Potch of Ideas

“Everybody in the basements”

The alert sounded across the town, the season of rain had arrived. Everyone was instructed to head to the nearest basements. The Office of Seasons had predicted that the rain would last for over four days. This was the first time the rains were expected to continue for more than two days.

Usually, after the rains, all the infrastructure had to be rebuilt. But the Taderians had become experts at constructing things quickly. They could get their society up and running within a week. The harsh seasonal climate on the planet had forced them to adapt.

And then, the rains began.

“Jura is our saviour”

As the fire approached the house, the family kept shouting, “Jura is our saviour!” And then they burned.

The fire-protectors stood there, watching the flames engulf the house. Fires were common in the country of Jaran. But the Law of Fire was strict regarding what others could do when flames roared. Nobody was allowed to extinguish a fire. If you were found guilty of trying to stop it, you were sentenced to death—by fire.

The Fire was the High Spirit. If a house stood in the path of the flames, it was sealed with its occupants inside. The fire-protectors considered it their sacred duty to ensure nobody tried to stop the Fire or escape from it. Fire was fate.

“Run, Keevie, run”

In Chata Town, if someone told you to run, you ran. You didn’t ask questions. You didn’t look back. You just ran as fast as you could, until you were beyond the town limits.

In Chata Town, everyone had the ability of premonition, they could see the future. But the future could never be changed. The people of Chata Town had tried everything. While the future couldn’t be altered, you could remove yourself from the equation if you ran away from town.

Once you crossed the town limits, you’d lose your ability to see the future, but you’d also be saved from death. So when the townsfolk sensed that someone was destined to die from external circumstances, they simply told them to run.

Running saved them.

“All men are equal, literally”

On Pomosee, every male of the species looked the same. The females were different, but all males shared the same height, the same face, the same features, the same physical attributes. Their weight and height never changed after a certain point, no matter how much they ate, what they ate, or how much they exercised. Their biology simply prevented any change.

When the entire male population looks identical, chaos follows, and indeed, it did. But females on Pomosee could tell the males apart by their scent. No one understood why individuals with the same DNA would smell different, but they did.

This only reinforced the belief that females see the world differently. The males, unable to distinguish one another, rarely mingled.

Females ruled Pomosee—obviously.

Hotch Potch of Ideas

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“Everybody in the basements”

“Jura is our saviour”

“Run, Keevie, run”

“All men are equal, literally”