Finish Line

Nolan ran. The road was dark. The pavement was broken. His tank top was drenched in sweat and he was behind in his pace. HIs heart beat in his chest. The led lamp on his waist was slowly starting to dim. Nolan could barely see his feet on the pavement as he powered through his race.

The sound of crickets echoed through the night sky like a stadium cheering and jeering for their lead player. Nolan had a second to waste. He was the only human in sight. HIs breath shot out between his lips. 

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Leaps of Freedom

“What are you doing,” Alicia said with her eyes half closed to her husband. Savian, sat with his knees to the floor, surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper and folders. Alicia was exhausted after a long day of student orientation. She was responsible for counseling students into the right path for their careers and the beginning was always difficult getting into the flow.

“Trying to find… something,” Savian said, mumbling to himself.

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P.I.N.

“What is free will,” the childlike, robot program asked the programmer. 

The programmer peered over his thin glasses at the glow of the computer screen. It was dark in the cave of Silas and he was occupied by the long string of buggy code. The program stood by patiently with a peripheral in its metallic hand. 

“Hmmm,” the programmer Silas hummed through his naval cavity.

“What is free will,” the program repeated. 

“Oh…” Silas perked up from his keyboard and turned to see the little robot. He smiled briefly and took the peripheral from the program’s hand. “Free will… It’s…” Silas paused and ruminated over the thought. “It’s choice. Rather, it’s the freedom of choice.” He nodded slowly after he contemplated whether he liked his answer. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

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Mightier

“Hey Dad! I had this crazy day today,” Ethan said strolling in his house and throwing his book bag next to the couch. “There were these guest speakers that came in, but the principal had no idea who they were.

Ethan pulled the refrigerator door opened and grabbed a soft drink.

“Dad?”

The old wooden house that he and his father lived in had been painted light pastel colors. The windows often had rays of sun shine through the transparent panes, often reminding Ethan and his father a time when his mom was still alive.

“Hey Dad! Where are you?”

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Collectible

Harris pressed softly against the half opened door.

“Mitchell,” he called softly into the dark. Harris had streaked across the lawn of his friend and struggled to calm his breath. He received fourteen voicemails from Mitchell that night. He stopped listening after the third one. 

“Mitchell,” he called out again. “It’s me. You okay in there?”

Harris ducked when he heard a loud metallic bang fall to the floor. He crept to the back room, unsure if there was a home invader in Mitchell’s house. Between the crack of the door, he saw Mitchell. But he was bumping into the shelves and furniture in the room. He appeared distant. 

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Dead Sea Debt

The weight of debt… is soul crushing. 

Like the Marina Trench. The deepest part has millions tons of pressure. That’s what it feels like to have debt pressing on me. But debt isn’t just that you owe, it’s the want. The desire. The greed. The street lights appear darker to me when out for an evening stroll. You can become reckless. What’s driving without a seatbelt? How much more damage could I owe? How much more money could I throw on top of this debt? Maybe I should cause the police to chase me. Land myself on the 6 o’clock news complete with aerial footage. I hear they charge you interest on the fuel they used for you from the helicopter.

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