Below is a collection of very short stories I’ve written over the past couple of weeks. All of them originated from something that actually happened. I just added a little fiction to spice up the bland. Here’s how it started:
I was looking out an ordinary window with an ordinary view, when a spark of inspiration hit me. I thought, Why don’t I turn this absolutely boring life event into something interesting.
And so I wrote.
I look out the window at a building being constructed. I wonder how long it will take for it to be complete. The beautiful pictures of the completed building conflict with the steel skeleton standing in front of me. It’s a constant battle between the present and the future. A battle that will ultimately be won by the simple act of cutting a ribbon.
I sit in a box. It’s all I have. A box that fits only me. The world enters this box through four windows. I cannot hear or smell the world outside, even though it’s only inches away. I find it intriguing to be able to look and observe this world to the point of intimate familiarity, yet never be able to truly know its real personality and character. A flower has bloomed just outside, but I can never smell or touch it. This box has robbed me.
A man sits at a table with a pen and a stamp. He stamps then hesitates, as if unsure of his actions. He speaks to another man before continuing on. I wonder what words were exchanged, what papers he stamps, and the point of all his actions. Another page turned, another stamp applied. Monotony.
Blue walls, a blue door, blue pants, a blue pen, and a blue notepad. Why is there so much blue? Some of it was my choice, some of it wasn’t. So why is it all here with me at this single point in time? I find it comforting because blue is my favorite color. Maybe that’s why it’s all here now. Perhaps I need the comfort and I subconsciously looked for it. Or maybe it’s just a coincidence. Either way, I like it.
Why haven’t I ever seen chicken jerky? I’ve heard of beef, deer, turkey, and even buffalo jerky. Never chicken, though. Is it too small? Doe it require more effort than it’s worth to make it? For such a popular food source, I’m surprised that I’ve never crossed paths with this elusive form of jerky. Ah, the mysteries of life. On that note, out of all the mysteries to be pondered, why did I choose chicken jerky?
The Power of Perception
Looking down, I see a million stars. I feel infinite and infinitely small at the same time. I can fit all these stars in the small holes we call eyes, yet the distance to the closest one is far too great to comprehend. Should I hold the universe in my hand, or let the vastness crush me? Should I be the king, or the spec of dust on a spec of dust? This is the power of perception.