He let the stresses of life bleed off and burn away, leaving behind only his inner self.
Trapped inside his shell, life was difficult, but that was why, once a week, he removed his bodiless brain from his metal-and-plastic body, soaked in some formaldehyde, and just relaxed for a while.
I consider this story an informal companion to Like Inside-Out Acupuncture.
She sneezed into her elbow and wrinkled her nose.
“Blurgh, so gross” she said.
She couldn’t know that the contents of her nasal evacuation had contained a microscopic anti-viral agent, which attacked and destroyed a potentially human-eradicating new virus that had begun to grow on her sleeve.
Lucky for us, eh?
Full disclosure: I’m reading a Tom Clancy novel that involves an Ebola outbreak. Yikes!
“When a cockatoo has gone insane, it will either make its nest out of smelted cobalt, or build its nest on top of a Cobalt, which, I’m sure you’ll agree, is very foolish.”
Dr. Mickelston squinted at his notes. Ah, this was why he’d been told to avoid citing Wikipedia.
This story was based on a prompt supplied by @Vanguard1219.
“Honey, I’ve made a fairly significant purchase,” he told his wife.
“Is it a car?” she asked.
“Is it a house?” she asked.
“Is it a Learjet?” she asked.
“Is it a small South American island nation?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s all on our very own Minecraft server!”
As a robot, he was made of technology. He wasn’t really a fan of the stuff: when he wasn’t upgrading his operating system, he was patching his peripherals or flashing his BIOS.
But every now and then he got to update his firmware, and on those days, life was good.
The arena was packed tight with eager sports fans.
They were very fragile, so the shipping department had gone a little overboard on the peanuts and bubble wrap. There wasn’t much room to move, but on the plus side it meant they had both food and entertainment while they waited.
The world was made of peanut butter and apples.
Actually, it wasn’t, but Kimmy would’ve been thrilled if it was. She was a daydreamer like that. Once she had thought about the world being made of chocolate and strawberries. She wasn’t sure which she’d prefer. Maybe a continent of each.
Which would you prefer? Or is there an entirely different food combo you’d rather have the world be made of? Leave a comment!
Jane liked yogourt.
Jake liked pudding.
They had little spats about which one was better pretty frequently. Mother told them they shouldn’t spit, though, so they started having tiffs, instead. Mother told them tiffs were an outdated file format, though, so they started bickering instead. Mom said that was ok.
There were monkeys on the roof of the Johnsons’ house.
No one in the neighbourhood knew how they’d gotten there, and the Johnsons weren’t responding to complaints, even though the neighbours, quite helpfully, sometimes left big red barrels on their lawn.
In the Johnsons’ basement, the Transmogrifier hummed and buzzed.
Huddled in the muddy trenches, they dodged raindrops and warded off bullets with prayers.
“Man, this is really serious!” one soldier shouted to the other.
“Yeah, he usually writes lighthearted stories! This subject matter doesn’t really lend itself to jokes!”
“He’ll probably do some kind of meta-level cop-out with it!”