Tapping his fingers on the table, he looked at the little bottles in front of him. Eeny meeny miny moe… he stopped at the biggest one. He grabbed it, walked over to the window. Watched the blue sky for a moment, took a deep breath of fresh summer air. The little tap was put tight, he had to struggle for a little while to get it off. Dark clouds came flowing out of the bottle, up towards the skies. They grew. The sky darkened…
He punched big spikes into the ground. Big, strong iron spikes, deep into the soil, so the ground would stay put. He knew it would peel off, someday, if he didn’t. It would peel off for good, leaving us all on a hot rock to die.
He knew if he didn’t do it, no one would. He didn’t like it. He didn’t want to do it. He had to.
One day two men came by.
-Why do you punch spikes into the ground? they asked.
-To keep the surface from peeling off, he had answered.
Peter crept under the fence, dragging his crutches behind him. Mick was already on his feet, looking down towards the facility further down the hill.
-What do you think is down there? he said.
-I don’t know. I hope we won’t have to run this time, though. I’m not so fast these days.
Peter had broken his leg when he jumped off a container to get out of the old paper factory a month ago. They used to do this, jumping over fences in restricted areas. It had become an obsession.
They walked slowly towards the buildings further down. They could see people moving around, some dressed as scientists, others in guard uniforms. The timing was horrible, with crutches and all, but Mick was always very convincing.
They reached some rows of tube piles giving them shelter, taking them down towards the buildings.
A man came out between the tube rows. (more)
Mirk is going to a school far outside of town to study his mathematics studies. He walks all day, and does not arrive until night fall. He realises things are not what they seem.
Another version of this story is published in written form earlier on Fictionspawn Monsters, called Uncountable Numbers. You can listen to the story here, or read the new rewritten version on Steemit.com@fictionspawn
From the tower the clocker sees it all. A girl is walking home at night. A shadow is waiting by … More
He watched the sea as the waves came in, he loved the white water stream. The sound of movement, the beautiful wind, the seagull’s repeating scream.
He’d seen the storms, the waves like teeth, giant squids and whales. The Kraken he had felt underneath, the oceans he had sailed.