JibJab's Release

Author’s insert.

This is the first one I’ve ever done.  I have quickly edited it, and proofed it.  But I was waiting to hear back about if it was any good, and the three I asked never answered me.  So I take it to mean that it sucked, but there you have it.  I like it.  So there.

And the Story.
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JibJab’s Release

“Jibjab, we need you downstairs.” The statement coming from a half seen dirty face, hidden in shadows and smelling of earth.

The wail drifting up from the nether realms “Its not working right!” She was always the one they chose. Cracking an eyelid, she groaned at the predawn light filtering down. It was always thus, overlooked by those who mattered, indispensible to those who couldn’t help her.

She descended into the chaos to assess the situation again. Always a jury rigged solution in this place, this forgotten armpit of the world. It look’s like that’s what it’s going to be again. Sighing, she sat down and folded herself back and under the silent and meancing accumulation of parts. As she squirmed to reach the parts that she needed to get at, twisting this way and that, she thought again of her impending termination date, when it would finally be all over for her.

Slippered toes shuffled up to rest beside her ear, a voice drifting down from somewhere above, “What’cha doin’ JibJab?”

Jibjab, as she was called by the littlest ones, was the oldest of the remaining inhabitants of this place, the rest of the older ones had passed on, in their absence the were finally free of the opressive structure, the daily fight for breath and bread.

There. It’s working again. The resiliant electrical hum of the motors coming online, the beeps of acknowledgement. She wished she could just leave well enough alone, they broke it, they can figure out how to fix it. She worked her way out of the tangle of clinging throttling lines, shuddering at the sudden cold air on her back.

As she tugged her shirt back down into place, she picked up the slippered toes and the freckeld face that when with them.

“Kelly, use your big girl words, not JibJab, Jennifer.”
A gnarled face leaned out of the opening to the kitchen, “thanks for fixing the cables for the little one’s Jennifer, we’ll miss you around here.”

Jennifer thought back to the years she’s spent in the orphanage, and felt a tear well up in her eye, but getting adopted was the best thing that could happen to her. She looked forward to tonight, her first night in her new home.
****************************************************

Let me know what you think.  Please.  Honesty is better than kindness.  If it sucked, say so, if you like it, tell me why.

Andre.

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