The Nose
A tale of friendship and superpowers
Last week’s story, Earthshot, was written by ChatGPT. The prompt was: “Write a short story about a teen boy, about 17 years old, who lives on a moon colony. He longs to save up enough money to visit earth; for people who grew up on the moon colony, visiting earth is akin to U.S. citizens of European descent going to Europe to visit their ancestral homeland. Write in the style of Cormac McCarthy. Avoid exposition and rely on vivid descriptions and dialogue. [Note: I had it rewrite the last part of the story, after he arrives on earth, because the original description was just an extremely brief summary of his time on earth. I also asked it to include descriptions of how the gravity difference between the moon and the earth affected him].
The vote was split 50-50. Now, on to this week’s story!
He could smell everything. The good and the bad. The sweet and the sour. The living and the dead. He had been born with this gift or curse, depending on how you looked at it. He had no choice but to live with it.
He tried to avoid crowded places, where the smells were overwhelming and chaotic. He preferred the solitude of nature, where he could breathe in the fresh air and enjoy the subtle aromas of flowers and trees. He worked as a gardener, tending to other people's plants and lawns. He didn't mind the dirt or the sweat or the fertilizer. They were familiar smells that he could tolerate.
He lived alone in a small apartment on the outskirts of town. He kept it clean and odorless as much as possible. He didn't cook much, preferring to eat raw fruits and vegetables that he bought from a nearby farmer's market. He didn't have any friends or family that he kept in touch with. He didn't have any hobbies or interests that he pursued. He didn't have any dreams or ambitions that he chased.
He just existed.
One day, as he was walking home from work, he smelled something strange. Something out of place. Something wrong.
He followed his nose to an alleyway between two buildings. There was a dumpster at the end of it, overflowing with garbage bags and cardboard boxes. He approached it cautiously, sniffing the air.
There was something inside one of the bags.
Something alive.
He tore open the bag with his hands and found a small kitten inside. It was dirty and skinny and scared. It looked at him with wide eyes and meowed weakly.
He picked it up gently and held it close to his chest. It smelled like fear and pain and hopelessness.
It smelled like him.
He decided to keep it. He named it Sniffles.
He took it home and cleaned it up and fed it some milk from his fridge. It purred softly in his arms as he stroked its fur. It smelled like gratitude and happiness and love.
It smelled like him too.
They became friends. They became companions. They became partners.
Sniffles had a keen sense of smell too, though not as strong as his own. Together they explored their neighborhood, sniffing out anything interesting or unusual.
They found lost items that people had dropped or forgotten.
They found hidden treasures that people had buried or discarded.
They found clues that people had left behind or overlooked.
One night, they smelled something suspicious. Something illegal. Something dangerous.
They followed their noses to an old warehouse by the river. There was a truck parked outside with its engine running. There were men inside wearing masks and gloves. There were crates inside filled with guns and drugs.
They were smugglers. They were criminals. They were villains.
Sniffles sneaked into the warehouse through a hole in the wall. He crawled under one of the crates and scratched at its bottom until he made a hole in it too. He pulled out some of the drugs with his teeth and dragged them outside where his friend was waiting.
They repeated this process until they had emptied all of the crates. Then they ran away as fast as they could before anyone noticed them. The next day, they heard sirens outside their window. They looked out and saw police cars surrounding the warehouse. They saw officers arresting the men who had been inside last night. They saw reporters interviewing witnesses who had seen what happened.
The witnesses said that someone had tipped off the police about an illegal shipment arriving at the warehouse last night. The police said that someone had sabotaged all of their evidence by spilling drugs all over the place. The reporters said that someone had saved their city from an influx of crime by exposing the smugglers' operation.
No one knew who that someone was.
But they did. And they smiled. And they sniffed. And they decided to do it again.
And again.
And again.
Until everyone knew who they were. Until everyone feared them. Until everyone loved them.
Until everyone called them The Nose and Sniffles.