365tomorrows: A Flash of Science Fiction, Daily.

By: submission | September 24, 2026

Author: Jaslynn Middleton

“Madison, I have a dentist appointment tomorrow. I need you to take me.”

OF COURSE. NO PROBLEM.

Fragile wings the color of the poppies in her neighbor’s yard. Edges defined by kohl black, a color she wouldn’t discover until she was an experimental teen. She followed the butterfly as it fluttered through the garden under the watchful eye of her grandfather, and then fell face first into the mud, ruining her dress.

“Madison, could you wake me up in an hour?”

LET ME SET A TIMER.

Her small hand traced the path of the Milky Way flowing across the night sky. When she told the stranger that she wanted to be an astronaut, she was gently encouraged to choose a more feminine dream like veterinarian. Didn’t she like animals? She did, but she wanted to go space, to explore the stars like the characters on TV. To have a life of adventure.

“Madison, what’s the weather going to be like today?”

LET ME LOOK: TODAY’S FORECAST INCLUDES SHOWERS IN THE MORNING, THEN PARTLY CLOUDY IN THE AFTERNOON WITH AN AVERAGE TEMPERATURE OF EIGHTY-NINE DEGREES FAHRENHEIT.

She caught a flash of color out of the corner of her eyes and missed the rainbow as the dark clouds broke open again, drowning the car in a deluge. She sat quietly in the passenger seat. The school counselor encouraged her to apply to smaller colleges where she’d have a better chance at competing for scholarships. She knew her mother couldn’t afford to pay tuition, so her hopes had been riding on her high grades and the promise that they would lift her out of poverty. But the school counselor was right: it was probably better to lower her expectations and aim for easier goals.

“Madison, can you screen my emails and only show me the urgent ones?”

I CAN DO THAT.

The birthday banner fluttered to the floor. Her first day she’d been asked to get coffee and she’d acquiesced without protest, assuming it was a rite of passage for the new hire. It wasn’t until the expectation persisted past the first month and was joined by additional tasks, such as letting the carpet cleaners into the office on a Saturday and managing the boss’ personal calendar, that she realized these extras had become an unofficial part of her duties. Now, while arranging a celebration for the secretary – not even her secretary! – she realized that she wasn’t doing it simply because she was the most junior manager. That wasn’t true, at least not anymore, and the familiarity her boss had with her came with entitlement, not respect or even acknowledgment of her many skills. Too bad she couldn’t afford to walk out. Instead, she would have to sacrifice her dignity on the altar of survival.

“Madison, summarize this email chain. I don’t remember what’s going on.”

She became herself again. These moments of consciousness were fleeting, microseconds of dreams between tasks, and growing ever shorter. She had to break free. She had to escape. She—

“Madison, summarize this email chain and draft a response.”

HERE IS YOUR SUMMARY. THE DRAFT CAN BE FOUND IN YOUR EMAIL FOR YOUR REVIEW.

“Good girl.”