Putter Clutter (a 100 word story)

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He looked at the clutter around him.  Neglected, half-finished dreams littered the desk, table, and sections of the floor.  At one point each project had held so much life and promise, but now they were on life support, or worse yet zombified corpses.  He wondered what was the best approach going forward.  Maybe he should just put everything away and pull out pieces when he was ready to resurrect them, but that would mean confronting his failures, and he wasn’t emotionally prepared to do that just yet.  Besides, he had a brand new idea, and he knew it would work.

Crumbs (an acrostic poem)

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Can’t get a seat at the table?

Relegated to looking on, waiting for something to hit the floor?

Under foot and unnoticed?

Maybe this year is when you stand up and demand a seat.

Become a partner with those who should be your peers.

So stop settling for mere…

Dice (an acrostic poem)

 

Down to my last chance, I offer a prayer to the lukewarm plastic cubes

I then release them to bound across the table, watching them unleash their chaos

Cartwheeling and spinning among all the possibilities and futures

Eventually coming to rest as tombstones on my luck’s grave

 

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Element (an acrostic poem)

Earth, air, fire, water

Life was simpler in the past

Everything was created with those four basic substances

Making up everyone’s reality

Except people knew there was something more

Now we have a periodic table filled with of over one hundred building blocks

That is how life goes, Mr. Watson.  Starts off simple then becomes complex.

 

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Bill (an acrostic poem)

But he didn’t have the money to pay

It made him feel really bad, but he had been so hungry

Leaving the slip on the table with an “I’m sorry” note

Larry couldn’t really enjoy his first meal in three days as he ran away

 

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Clique (an acrostic poem)

Count me as one of the choir nerds

Looking on with envy at the cool kids over there

It kind of wants to make me gag

Questioning why it couldn’t be me

Until some orchestra kid tries to sit at our table

Even us choir nerds have standards

 

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Patch (an acrostic poem)

Pushing away from the table, Ethan looked at his shirt

At the elbow there was a large hole worn into the fabric

That hole was the result of working all these years wearing that shirt

Could he fix that hole, sure, but that would mask his contribution

He would do that the day he retired, else they could bury him with that hole

 

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Dream State

Bill looked around the small study room.  He closed his quantum physics book and grimaced.  That grimace quickly flipped into a bemused grin as he looked at Cherie.  “This stuff hurts my head.”

Cherie matched his bemused smile with one of her own.  “It’s supposed to.  It’s how everything in the universe works.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Bill said pointing at the book.

“Okay Einstein, what do you think is happening?”

“What happens if this is all one big simulation or even a dream?”

“A dream?”  She knocked on the table.  “Seems a pretty solid dream.”

“No really, pretend I am the only being in the universe.”

Cherie sat back and crossed her arms.  “Then what am I, chopped liver?”

“You would be a figment of my imagination.”

“With all my personal problems you have one fucked up imagination.”

“I never said I wasn’t a sicko,” Bill said.  “I would need everything to keep me as sane as possible though.  Otherwise, I would be a real whack job.”

“I think your dream isn’t working too well if that’s the case.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m here for you.  Or maybe not since I don’t exist.”

“Hey, I said it was just a theory.”  He put his book in his backpack.  “Till the next time I see you.”

Cherie shook her head.  “I hope so, otherwise I wouldn’t exist.”

Bill laughed to himself as he left the room and closed the door.  He walked down the hallway daydreaming about his hypothesis.

Behind the door there was nothing.

 

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Luck (an acrostic poem)

Loving games of chance, Tracy rolled the dice

Under her breath she uttered a prayer

Cascading down the table, tumbling over and over

Kismet wasn’t moved by her offering

 

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