x_project | Drabble-rific

This is what happens when I'm bored and not logging, I guess.

She did not comprehend the color at first.

Simple concepts came easily. That which is green is eaten, but not all
green. The long green was best, the small green if there was no long
green. The other colors, the bright colors, would not be as good as
the green. As a fawn, she had learned this.

The purple smelled different, and was soft on her nose, but it was not
eaten. It merely grew amidst the long green, and provided a contrast
that would have pleased her, if aesthetic pleasure was a concept her
brain could process.

The purple sometimes moved in the wind, when the long green would go
back and forth. But it did not leave the long green. Even in her small
mind, she knew this was a Bad Thing. And when the Bad Things occurred,
she ran.

Across the short green, into the long green and the tall brown.
Further into the tall brown where the purple did not grow. There would
be no more Bad Thing. She ran untill the tall brown surrounded her.
You did not eat the tall brown, but if you stood in its shadow, and
you were very still, you were safe.

Then the long green was very close, and she tried to run, but her legs
were weak. The long green tickled her nose, and she licked at it,
instinctively trying to eat. The red was in the long green now, and
she knew somehow that the red was a Bad Thing, but she could not run.
She just watched the red sink into the green, and as everything faded,
she saw the purple.

The purple smelled different, she knew that. And it was also soft on her nose.

Even in the shadow of the tall brown, standing very still, you were not safe.

"Papers to the front."

Third row from the back, closest to the windows, the daydreamer looked
out at the beach. It wasn't even remotely close to fair, having
Physics this close to the end of the day and the waves that close. It
totally wasn't...

Someone was calling his name, and he jerked his head forward with an
apology, taking the papers from behind him, adding his own, and
passing them forward. His classmates were snickering quietly, and the
bemused physics teacher simply tapped her foot impatiently.

"The four fundamental forces," she said, jerking a thumb at the
whiteboard. "List them in order of strength."

He shrank down, trying to disappear, causing another round of giggles
from the class. Finally, with a shrug, he walked to the board,
grabbing a handful of pens. Just because he was daydreaming didn't
mean he was an idiot. He could have slept through this test and still
passed.

Alex uncorked the pen with his teeth, spelling out "ELECTROMAGNETISM"
in block capitals across the board, in bright green.

For some reason, that looked right.

"Piotr's up to nine thousand four hundred now. He's going to beat you."

Ororo's words hung in Sam's ears as he adjusted his goggles over his
eyes. It was just a bet, a silly wager made in a moment of laughter
between two peers. Which would happen first? Everyone had joked about
it. The Russian powerhouse deadlifting five tons, or the Kentucky
flier breaking the sound barrier?

Sam had never dealt with laughter well if he felt the joke was on him.
The granulated surface of the flyer's launch platform scraped the
bottoms of his sneakers as he braced himself. Scorch marks across the
concrete-and-steel surface brought a frown to his face. Warren didn't
leave scorch marks, and Ororo didn't make the explosive booms that let
everyone for a country mile know that the oldest Guthrie was taking to
the air.

But neither of them would ever come close to breaking that barrier.

And Piotr was only six hundred pounds away.

"Ah hate to lose a bet," Sam Guthrie said, whispering a quick prayer
and looking skywards. This was the part he'd never get tired of.

Boom.