I wrote a version of this story a long time ago. When I sifted through all the places I stashed finished, and unfinished stories a few years back, I could not find this story. I know I started it, but in what digital repository I stored it will forever remain a mystery.
Funny, considering I wrote Line Haul, Devil Shredder, and METS Corps, all about the same time, and I found them all. Line Haul was unfinished, much to my disappointment. I completely forgot it even existed. Do not look for it here on my blog; it is going to be my first novella. My hope is that it hits Smashwords and Amazon before the leaves change color.
But I digress. Long ago, I began to believe that a day would come when we will all be on some sort of antidepressant, whether we need it or not. Ultimately, the government would mandate that anyone over the age of eleven would have to take a pill to prevent all human created tragedies.
After all, people kill people, and the weapon of choice is not the issue.
This story is about one man’s struggle to rid himself of a government-induced addiction and try to get his life back. Throughout that struggle, he uncovers forgotten heart-rending memories, and what the Preventative actually does.
I received a lot of help from my grammar cop on this story, and want to thank him for his time and brutal honesty. You will find his comments scattered about in this blog.
Thanks Grammar Cop.