Time again for short story time. Gather around the fire, kids, and enjoy a fanciful tale of intrigue and monotony…
The more I think about it, the more I realize that all of nature is just… autonomy. Lots of it. Squishy and gooey and fibery and everywhere. Nothing has any real purpose, other than to be a cog in the machine. And this machine does not seem to satisfy any purpose other than to serve a place to put cogs.
Take for instance, bunny rabbits. Cute little white tailed bunny rabbits. I know, the cuteness center of your brain is completely stuck on ‘awwww’ right now, but cut it out. Are all bunnies innocent? Do they spend all day dawdling in cute little forays into the forest, painting all of nature with a brush made of cute? You want to think that. You really do. But don’t, just for a second. What do you see? Little furry plant munchers, droning on, responding to simple stimuli. It gets dark, go home. Notice something large moving, hide. If it is edible, eat it. Hormones say it is time for little bunnies, find mate. Nothing could be further from the truth than cuteness. It is merely what we perceive to be true of bunnies.
Case in point. A rambling case in point. I drive a lot. I mean, a lot. Enough to have earned my million mile badge. Or at least, damn close to it. During this time, I have seen a lot of bunnies. They appear on the side of the road. Sometimes slowly. Sometimes quickly. Invariably, however, they appear to be on the wrong side of the road. Maybe this is only true when I am around. How funny would that be, that I have to be present to force an outcome of bunny-logic? Regardless, they always bolt for the other side of the road. Right in front of me.
Short story time again…
The deafening whirr of rubber tires on pavement assailed Brian’s ears. Pedaling harder, he knew he didn’t have much left in his legs; this was going to have to do. The rest of the pack was all around him. There was still one hill to go today. This ‘fun ride’, as they claimed it would be, happened every Sunday morning. That was a joke; you’d never met a more competitive group. There was nothing ‘fun’ about it.
Last time Brian didn’t pace well, trying to strive for the front, and completely blew up 3/4 of the way through the last lap. Instead of receiving yet more mockery at the Orange Monkey, the diner the group met at after rides, he had just continued on home by himself after they dropped him from the pack without so much as a backwards look. If he didn’t back off today, he could forget that extra waffle for yet another week.
Ok, I’m going to try something, so give me some feedback and maybe I’ll do more of it if it turns out well. Lately I have had the itch to write something, but trying to do more ‘book’ things has been daunting, so I thought it might give some random short stories a try. We’ll see what happens.
Ted came to a sudden stop. The sky had been darkening in front of him for the last hour, but he thought he could make it before it started raining. A single drop landed on his out stretched hand, a sign perhaps that he had better consider his options in a hurry. Off to the east, the sky burst forth with light, winked out, and after an uncomfortably short period of time, a thunderclap washed down the canyon.
It started raining.