[Microfiction] "I'm So Confused."
Read the winning entry for our May 16, 2025 prompt, "I'm so confused."
Neurodivergent Narratives Presents: Microfiction Contest
An experience in Autistic confusion using the phrase "I'm so confused."
Reflections of the Past by Daron Williams
A statement shared by the Friendship One United Earth Space Probe Cooperative on the day of the launch.
It has been 67 years since the crumbles started. The crumbles – the time when people were so focused on controlling each other and the myth of individualism that they failed to recognize that their world was falling apart until it was almost too late.
Today in 2067, we are still putting the pieces back together. We have stopped the warming of the world, the destruction of nature, and have stopped trying to force everyone to be “normal”. But not everything can be put back together.
Countless species of wildlife have been lost and with them evolutionary possibilities that we will never see. We will never know what paths the orangutans, hawksbill turtles, saolas and so many more could have taken.
And let us not forget the countless people who were lost to the evil that attempted to sweep over the world. People who committed no sin other than the sin of saying “I exist, and I won’t be quiet.” But also, people who simply were never given the chance to survive. Who were denied medicine because it wasn’t cost effective. Or went hungry while so much was being wasted.
Today we stand here at the start of what some are calling the first utopia.
A united world that is sending its first probe to a new distant start with the simple mission to see what is out there and say “hello”. Friendship One represents the hope and goodwill of our world as it is today. But we must not forget the past that led to this point.
When our kids learn about the past and the decisions our ancestors made, they often say, “I’m so confused, why did they let it get so bad?” Today our kids, like our whole society, work together in cooperatives where no one person is given authority over anyone else. But we only got to this point because of the actions of our ancestors.
While many were taking sledgehammers to the walls that supported their home, many more were placing themselves in front of the walls in a last-ditch effort to save their homes. There were those who dedicated their lives to making the world bloom and who many species of wildlife owe their survival. There were the young people, the parents, the grandparents, the uncles and aunts, and the people with no connections who came together through mutual aid to save their communities when climate disasters struck and the boots of evil marched down the streets.
We don’t know why they let it get so bad. But when it appeared that all would be lost, they came together and stopped the evil that had seemed unstoppable. Without their efforts, everything that we have today would have been impossible.
So, as we come together today to boldly go where no one has gone before, let us not forget the past.
The Clockmaker’s Daughter by Libby Banks
The pocket watch shouldn't have been ticking.
Jane picked it up from the workbench, her grease-stained fingers tracing the engraved initials - J.W. - that matched her own. The watch had been broken when she found it in the attic, its gears rusted solid. Yet now, it purred against her palm like a living thing.
A shadow moved in the workshop's mirror.
"You fixed it," said the reflection. But Jane’s lips hadn't moved.
She spun around. Empty benches. Silent tools.
The voice came again, this time from the watch itself: "Finally. I've been waiting."
Jane’s breath hitched. "Who - ?"
"Turn the hands backward. Three full rotations."
Her thumb trembled against the dial. Logic screamed this is impossible, but something deeper - the part that loved broken things - compelled her.
Click. Click. Click.
The workshop dissolved.
Suddenly, she stood in a sunlit room she'd never seen, facing a girl in a high-collared dress. The stranger held an identical watch.
"You're me," Jane realized.
"And you're me," said 1912-Jane. "Or you will be, if you don't stop Father's accident tonight.
"But I'm just—"
"The clockmaker's daughter?" 1912-Jane smiled bitterly. "So was I. Until I wasn't."
Jane stared at the watch. "I’m so confused."
"Good." Her counterpart pressed a rusted gear into her hand. "Confusion means you're paying attention."
The world lurched. Jane gasped—
—and woke at her workbench, the watch ticking merrily in her grip. Through the window, the church bell chimed midnight.
Somewhere in the city, a carriage horse spooked.
Jane was already running.
Static by Adetoye Ayomikun
