Monday September 13th, 2010

The exercise:

Write a bit about: gravity.

It's a lovely, end of summer kind of day out. Makes for a good day of resting.


The halls of the hospital were full of patients with tight, worry worn faces and staff lacking sleep and time to deal with any of them. The clocks on the wall were unanimous in their declaration that it was much, much too late in the day for any sane human to be awake.

And yet, as Dr. Timothy Hathaway sat in his tightly packed office, he could undeniably hear laughter emanating from the room next door. Less than a minute passed before he could stand the distraction no more, lurching to his feet with a menacing growl.

"What is going on in here?" he demanded from the doorway, somehow managing to look at everyone in the room at once.

"Hey doc," the man in the green hospital gown replied with a cheerful wave. "We were just having a drink before I have to go in for my operation in the morning. Care to join us?"

"You're aware, I'm sure, that you shouldn't be drinking anything at all this close to a procedure, much less alcohol?"

"Lighten up, doc," one of the patient's inebriated friends said from from across the room where he was slumped against the wall. "We all know Barry here ain't gonna make it no matter how smashed he is when he goes into the operating room. What's the harm in enjoying our last hours together?"

"Is that... is that a joint you're smoking? I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave the grounds immediately."

"Only after Barry gets a hit," the man replied. "I figure if we can take him a bit higher, Death won't mind carrying him the rest of the way to heaven, ya know?"

"I think you people are not aware of the gra-"

"Doc," Barry cut in as he accepted the joint from his pal, "we know exactly what's going on. So why don't you go back to your work and leave us to have our fun. We'll try to keep it down, but honestly? This building could use a bit of life and laughter injected into its soul. I'll see you in a few hours for my final examination."

Dr. Hathaway could think of no appropriate reply, so instead he returned to his office, closed the door, and allowed his chair to catch his weight with a slight groan. As he studied the reports arrayed across his desk, his chin resting heavily on an upturned hand, he pretended not to notice gravity claiming the tears one by one from his tired eyes.


Greg said...

Wow, that's quite a moving story in its way; you can tell you had more time to work on it on your day off! I like the patients' attitude to their fate particularly.


Without gravity, other physical processes take over. Liquids, for example, no longer fall to the floor and splatter; instead their surface tension becomes the dominating force and pulls the liquid into itself. Liquids that don't encounter any solid object to interact with eventually hang in the air as tiny, spherical droplets.
Which is exactly what I found in the Nexus, the spaceship's control room. An array of suspended, spherical blood drops.
Who the hell had been murdered this time?

morganna said...

Marc -- very sad story.

Greg -- this time? What kind of spaceship is this, anyway?

Mine (something silly to lighten the mood):

Going up
Rolling over
Above the ground
Veering down
It's time
To verify
Yep, it works!

Marc said...

Greg - yeah, I definitely took my time with it. Also... I couldn't figure out how to end it sooner :P

Great final line :)

(the rest of it was good too, of course)

Morganna - well timed, and nicely done :)

Heather said...

Wow! How could this be from Monday/ Tuesday? Have I really been that out of the Marc's blog loop that long without noticing. I need to get more sleep or fewer responsibilities!

I have to ask, is he crying because even he knows the certainty of the patient's prognosis or because he is simply trampled down by his career? It wasn't clear to me. Either way, it's good!

Something to make you smile... and it even has to do with gravity.


I sat quietly in a group of strangers trying to stay still and silent so as not to attract attention. The person to my right kept rocking back and forth, whimpering as if his emotional pain were expressing itself physically. To my left sat a 'popper', or at least that is what I came to call those like her. She sat still, attentive, but then would suddenly 'pop'. A muscle would noticeably jump or she would make a noise, fidget, adjust. It was always something and always sudden. Before and behind me sat others. Some were fidgety, some were quiet, some seem dazed. As far as I could tell, the only thing we all held in common was that gravity held us in place. So far, kindergarten was not all that socially impressive.

Marc said...

The days just sneak on by if you're not careful. I can't believe it's Saturday tomorrow again already!

Re: the tears - I left it open because I didn't really decide myself at the time. Though now I'm leaning towards it being due to his patient's prognosis.

Very cool video, thanks for sharing :)

You definitely succeeded in making me smile! Love that final line :D