Microfiction
Ewan the Elf and The Shoemakers. Content Warning.
There once was a shoemaker who was down on his luck. Business had been slow, and his health was waning. His wife tried to keep things afloat. She worked through the night to cover their orders. One night as she worked on a large order of shoes, she started to feel drowsy and collapsed in the workshop.
By Paul Stewart3 years ago in Fiction
A Father's Revenge
Russel Kelsey was sitting on the park bench. His heart was beating a thousand miles an hour, and sweat was developing on his forehead. His hands were in his jacket pockets, but they started to shake, so he clenched them into fists to hopefully stop the shaking.
By Roy Tsukishima3 years ago in Fiction
The Strata of Force
"Ask yourself, Do I have the timer, recording sheet, and the skittles?" "Yes.", said in unison response, even though it was meant to be a personal mental check. "Do you remember what our science experiment is teaching us about? What we are testing?" "I think so, diffission.", she heard someone say. "Diffusion. It's the Toucan Box skittle experiment.Take your plates and place the skittles around the outer edge. Don't eat all of them. Only eat the ones you have left over. You have enough for 2 plates." She watched as her students studiosly followed directions. "Look at mine. I made a pattern with mine." "I tried to, but I didn't have enough of the right colors so I gave up." "It's okay, both look great and should work the same." "I ate too many of mine. Can I have another pack?" "Maybe your friends will share, otherwise you will need to wait and I will give you some before the experiment. I can't trust you won't eat them again." "Skittles are my favorite candy." "I know you've said that, but you are suppose to have your scientist hat on right now." "Sorry." "It's okay." She filled the electric kettle with water and set it to heat. "Once the water is warm the assistant or I will pour some water into your plate." She made sure to stop the kettle before it boiled or got too hot. It would sit for 15 minutes anyways while she discussed safety and recording results. Her students looked forward to science days. The chart she had made for recording was a minute broken into 5 second intervals. There was space for students to record observations. They could use as many sheets as necessary for the time it takes to finish the expirement. "We are going to start with warm water and then try cold. I will finish by doing one boiling hot water one that all of you can watch me do. I think we are almost ready." She paced the rows observing how many of the students were ready. She knew her class well, almost exactly 15 minutes later the class was ready. She and her assistant began pouring the warm water. Clicks from timers starting were synchronized with their movement threw the rows. 5 seconds in.... "Mines not doing anything." "I think mine is." "What am I looking for." "Toucan is a bird right?" "Yes" "Oh I get it." "Keep focused on your observations please." 35 seconds in.... "Oooh mine is doing it." "Aaaahhhh mine is to" A chorus of amusement could be heard throughout the classroom. All the little scientists recording observations furiously. 60 seconds.... "Wow, thats so cool. Why is it? Why did it do this?" She looked at his plate. A water colored rainbow of colors trailed to the center of the plate. "Mine was basically done at 37 Seconds.", a boy named remi said. "Nice job." "This is sugar" "Yes the chemicals are moving or diffusing from an area of high concentration to an area of low concentration, trying to equalize. The colors don't mix bc of water stratification." "Water stratification does this? What is that again?", he says while looking confused. "They have the same sugar content, but slightly different properties bc of the color used. So they dont mix initially. Do you think this will change with boiling liquid? How about a soda?" "Who would have guessed", the boy said suspiciously staring at his plate. Even getting eye level with the plate. Then he spun the plate to make it swirl like a paint spin machine. The whole time staring at his plate in complete seriousness. Before stopping it. Where on stopping it, it became a muddled puddle of colors. For a few seconds the colors had kept the seperate stratification before breaking the barriers and mixing. The same boy looks up and states very concretely, "Force, force changes water stratification and diffision, I mean diffusion." She couldn't help but smile, "Yes, an astute observation." In just one minute a future scientist was born. She was sure of it. Sent from my Galaxy
By simplicity3 years ago in Fiction
The Almost Insurrectionist
A silent disguised call to arms. An equation unfully calculated. An affront ready to be met aggressively. A group, ready to be the iron fist of the general public. Injustice, will not stand. The noise rose up and hung around as a thick fog would. Voting is a right. Always the treasure given by this countries founders. It shall not be tampered with. The nations mental unwellness spills onto itself by a rowdy crowd overly eager and overly prepared to enforce it's confidence. A point will be made. Nigh, examples will be made. To hell with politics. To hell with waiting and using the judicial system in our democratic system we are fighting for. Rubbing his knuckles he can feel the indent in the knuckle of his middle finger. His hands are scaley and dry from over washing usually. Today, however, his hands feel soft from over basting in his own sweat. His hands always sweat when he's nervous. His adrenaline shakes his hands as he prepares to enter with the rest of the crowd. If everything is right, why could he not bring himself to look up. His shoes were clean and still had that new running shoe feel and smell. He kicked the back of his right shoe with the toe of his left. He felt like a bull waiting to be released from a stable for freedom to buck. They would be testing if freedom and democracy were so interchangeable. He was one of the few without a weapon. So many were armed. To be honest, he had yet to decide if he should really be there. It was all so chaotic and fast. The people he stayed with had coaxed him and he had allowed himself to be agitated by the rhetoric. They were doing what their commander and cheif could not rightfully do. "One minute till go", a man bellowed to the crowd. He felt himself moving backward in the crowd or maybe the crowd was moving forward. Yes, the crowd was advancing. He stayed planted. He couldn't get his feet to pick up. Maybe fear. It all seemed too unreal. An out of body experience. He was no longer in control. He could just watch. 20 seconds the crowd was rushing forward, moving him from the middle to the back. 30 seconds the crowd was before him approaching the capitol building. He could just stare. 45 seconds he felt his knees on the ground. The bone of his patella sends a shock of pain that acts as a defibrillator for his brain. His throat partially closes. It's too late and the words won't come anyways. It's happening. 60 seconds in he can just watch from a kneeling position. Kneeling, he brings himself to look up. Unprepared for the truth of it. It presents as a painting. His own personal viewing of 'The Triumph of Death', by Pieter Bruegel. In an instant history was creating itself before him. A not so innocent bystander allowing it to unfold. But, really what could he do. All he thought in this moment was the phrase found on a dollar bill, "In god we trust". How he wished to hold the embodiment of America like the statue pieta. He wished those attacked could hold him the same way as he collapsed under the weight of ignominy. Sent from my Galaxy
By simplicity3 years ago in Fiction
Goldilicks
Link to the challenge: Note: Well, you all know the story. A girl ends up in a house trying out the food, furniture and the like while bears discover that their property has been tampered with. I just discovered a new way into this one that may suit the purposes of the challenge.
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Fiction
