My own archive in case the thunderdome archive / SA ever implodes and somehow neocities doesn't. Archive link here

Thunderdome is a flash-fiction thread in Somethingawful, where each week a prompt is created and aspiring writers write a short piece of fiction in a couple of days. They are then mercilessly but constructively criticised. Only saving stuff from 2025 onward cuz the rest deserve to be destroyed.

Goldenrods

“You mean you didn’t even go to the interview?” I asked Oliver, exasperated.

He was sitting on the couch in front of the TV. “Well, no,” he replied, seeming slightly embarrassed. “I told you that I need to stay in. I wouldn’t have done well if I forced myself to go in this state, anyway,” he continued, his eyes drifting back and forth between the TV and me.

“Look, Oli,” I started, composing myself. “I know you’ve been going through stuff lately but you have to try and get out there. It might help you.” I gave him a sympathetic look. “What did your therapist say?”

“That I need to... find some way I can recharge,” he paused for a second. “I think... I should go home for a bit.” He said, his eyes going back to the general direction of the TV.

“I just feel suffocated here,” he said and quickly added “not by you! It’s just this city. It’s too damn noisy and dirty. Every time I go outside it’s like I’m in an endless battle with everyone else. I feel battered.”

“I know,” I said and sat down next to him on the couch, stroking his hair. “I understand. Well, I’ve always lived in the city but... I understand all the same.” I said in a soft voice.

“I just want to be calm for a while. To listen to the sounds of nature. I think that seeing the town will be good. All those old places I know like the back of my hand… the fields, the old buildings, the river…” he continued, lost in thought.

“That sounds great.” I said warmly. “You think it’ll help? Everything won’t just go back to normal as soon as you get back?”

“I don’t know,” he said curtly. “It’s worth a shot.”

“Alright.” I said with an air of finality. “But I’m coming with you.”

Oliver turned his head to me quickly. “What? Why? There’s no need... such a hassle–”

I cut him off. “Oli, we’re in this thing together.”

“But I’m not sure you’d enjoy it, and I might be doing my own thing... and my mother...”

“Don’t worry about me, Oli, I can take care of myself . Or are you afraid I’ll soil your precious home?”

He looked down. “No, that ain’t it. It just… might not be what you imagine.”

“It’s decided then, I’ll go with low expectations,” I said, smiling at Oli. He managed a slight smile back.

So we were off on an uneventful journey. When we approached the town, we saw hilly fields of goldenrods. A mix of yellow and green swaying gently in the wind.

“Beautiful.” I said.

“Mm-hm.” Oliver replied, keeping his eyes on the road. I opened the passenger side window to try to get a whiff of the smell, but with the wind and our car rumbling away it was fruitless.

After a few more minutes we reached the town and the greenery abruptly disappeared, replaced by roads and empty fields. We passed by rows of houses that were in varying states of shabbiness. Some green vestiges in the better kept gardens were the only colour aside from white and asphalt grey. We then turned into what I had to assume is the main street, as Oliver was still being tight-lipped. On it, for every open shop we passed, a couple were closed or shuttered, and everywhere seemed deserted. A sense of trepidation fell over me. To me, the town looked miserable. Was it always like this, or was this a recent change? Either way, I didn’t think this will be any good for Oliver. Either his memory will be tarnished, or he’ll discover it was never accurate. Or maybe I was worried over nothing - it might be just one part of the town, or he might see something in it that I can’t.

At last we reached Oliver’s house. It was a small wooden house, painted white with some of the paint peeling off. His mother excitedly welcomed us in and we put our things down in separate rooms, owing to Oliver’s twin bed.

“Sit, sit! You must be exhausted! I can’t believe you came all this way just for a couple of days, and so suddenly…” she said, ushering us into the kitchen where she served us tea and lit herself a cigarette.

After a few moments of conversation, Oliver interrupted. “Sorry mum, I’m really tired, I think I’m just gonna crash.” He got up to leave, then stopped after a step. “Coline? I–”

“I’m fine, Oli. Just do your thing.” I replied and he gave a nod and went off to his room.

Oliver’s mother blew out some smoke and sighed. “Another one of his tantrums? He takes after his father, that one.”

“He’s just going through something, I hope coming here will lift his spirits a bit.” I said.

She put her hand on mine. “You’re a sweet girl Coline, but that boy sinks into a world of his own sometimes. You’ll learn to just let him be.”

The next morning I got up and could hear noises from Oliver’s bedroom. I knocked on the door.

“What is it?”

“It’s me. You up?”

Two seconds passed in silence. “Yeah, come in.”

By the light of day I could see how bare the room was. There were no posters on the wall or trinkets anywhere, nothing you’d expect from a room a teenager lived in. On the desk was an assortment of stationery and a small TV, now turned on and hooked up to a very dusty video-game console. Oliver was sitting on the bed cross-legged, his blanket covering his legs, the video-game controller beside him.

“Morning.” I said.

“Morning,” he replied in a dreamy voice, like he had just woken up from a great nap or gotten out of a sauna.

“So what do you want to do today?”

“I’m not sure…” he said, his eyes looking down.

“I thought we could go walk around. We have to leave early tomorrow so this is the only daylight we’ll get. Maybe see your old school. Your mother said you have a friend who still lives around here… Barney?”

“Yeah, maybe.” He took one of his now-usual pauses. “Yeah, okay.”

We drove to the school, past more cracked pavement, billboards and asphalt. It was a simple, large red brick building, with a small athletics field next to it with a few concrete stands surrounding it. We walked around it aimlessly for a while.

“Not much of a sports school, huh?” I said.

“Not much of an anything school, I’d say.”

“So… you want to tell me a bit about this place?”

Suddenly Oliver turned to me. “Tell you about what? About how that ‘friend’ Barney and his brother threw me in the dumpster? There’s nothing to tell!” he said, raising his voice slightly. I was alarmed, but somewhat glad he was showing some emotion.

“I told you! I told you I just want to do my own thing, and you just keep trying to force it.” he said, his voice back to normal but still barely controlled.

“I just wanted to understand, I wanted to help.”

“Well, you can’t.” he said and started walking back to the car.

When we got home, he went into the house and without saying a word walked briskly to his room.

“What is it now?” his mother said as he passed her.

“Don’t ignore me, Oliver! You’re acting like a child!” she continued. As he closed his door she turned to me. “See? Well. good luck with that.”

I sat in the kitchen, thinking, for a long time. Eventually, I got up and walked towards his room. I approached the door and could hear the TV. I quietly opened it.

Oliver was transfixed, looking at the TV. His blanket was over his shoulders, holding his game controller.

On the screen, a small character was walking down a path. On one side, a row of brick buildings, all perfectly white but with differently coloured roofs, the sun setting behind them. On the other, a field of flowers swaying in perfect synchronicity. They were all identical but their colour– yellow, green, blue and purple. I could hear the grainy sound of wind and a slight drizzle, overlaid over a calm music track that seemed to help evoke the feelings of dusk. As the character was moving forward I could see a bridge crossing a river in the distance.

I looked at Oliver’s face. He had the same dreamy look he had before.

“Oli,” I said softly.

He quickly turned and let out a small gasp of surprise. He turned back to press something on the controller.

“No, wait,” I said and gingerly sat next to him on the bed, putting my head on his shoulder. “Do you mind if I stay?”

He stared for a couple of seconds, then wrapped the blanket around me. “Of course,” he said, “Can I show you around?”