CHROMO Countdown: 22

Check out Pippa Bailey's "Achromatica" before you grab your copy of CHROMOPHOBIA!

Today is June 8th, and that means you only have 22 more days to pre-order the special edition of CHROMOPHOBIA. You can place your order HERE.

Today’s story:


by Pippa Bailey

Lucas fanned himself with a magazine. “I’m going to catch it.”

Tiff tutted and signaled Iris for more water. “That’s a stupid idea.”

Iris sprayed. “She’s right.”

“We can’t stay like this. If I catch it, maybe we can find out what’s happening.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“I don’t know, maybe the old box and stick method? It’s worked for hundreds of years.”

“Truly, you’re the next Bear Grylls.”

Lucas sniffed an armpit of his orange t-shirt. “I don’t see you doing anything but complaining.”

Tiff looked at Iris. Iris shrugged and resprayed her. “You know, you are being a bit—”

“I’m being a lot; I’m aware of that,” said Tiff.  “Ok, say you catch this thing? What do you expect to do with it, huh?”

“I’d get it looked at by someone. You know, a vet or a scientist.”

Tiff laughed. “Do you know any scientists?”

“No, but that’s how it always works on tv. Someone stumbles onto a new creature or invention and contacts a scientist online, and they become a millionaire. I might not share my money with you if you’re going to be an ass. What if it’s like the missing link or Bigfoot?”

Tiff shook with laughter. “Pfft, you think it’s Bigfoot?”

“I think he means Cryptozoological,” said Iris.

“Yes, that, that’s what I meant. A cryptid.”

Iris tutted. “Me correcting you was in no way support for you trying to catch whatever it is.”

“Aren’t you curious?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe to go out there.”

“I don’t care what it is. I want my garden back,” Tiff whined.

Lucas rolled his eyes. “Realistically, what is it going to do to me?”

“The thing, or the bleaching?” asked Iris.

“Either, both, I don’t know. I mean, if I don’t touch whatever it is, and I don’t touch any white patches on the floor, I should be fine, right?”

“I guess if you don’t touch anything. I mean, I can’t guarantee anything. We don’t know what it is.”

Tiff grabbed the spray bottle from Iris and spritzed herself. “How come you trust him to go outside, but not me?”

Iris mocked Tiff. “I’ll stand outside, maybe I’ll sit in the chairs, let’s use the pool, oops, I fell on the grass.”

“Since you made such a good point for me being an idiot anyway, what if I do go out and get in the pool.”



Iris screwed her eyes and clenched her fists. “Stop being such an arsehole!”

Ooft, this was pretty new; not often, Iris lost her temper.

“Right, ok, both of you aren’t helping. I’m going to use my canvas shoes.” Lucas pointed to the entirely white sneaker by the door, its twin with a similar shade of nothing. “Since my new sneakers are fucked.”

“What if you do get it on you?” asked Iris.

“I won’t.”

“Yeah, but what if—”

“I won’t.”


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