Fractal Realities: Partners in Time

Robert Quick

Where the -@!# did my muse go?

Writer, dreamer, knight, shackled by entertainment . . . and people.

Each spadeful of dirt opened the earth a little further. It never seemed like much but it added up bit by bit. It always felt like it took forever. Patrick had lost count in the eighties at least three times. His mind was slow now. He supposed this kind of sluggishness had to happen the world over, from construction workers, to grave diggers, and gardeners. It's funny how those jobs overlapped here, under the eye of such a sun.

Something tickled the skin above his eyebrow. He wasn't sure if it was an errant drop of sweat or one of the flies that would not go away but the pass of his hand stopped it.

“I don't hear any shoveling over there.” Daniel called from the next hole over. "You ain't getting paid to rest."

Patrick rolled his eyes and went back to work. The heat, the stinging sweat, and biting flies, all added up to one thought. He absolutely hated this job. But Daniel was easily the worst part. Working with him made every job harder.

Unfortunately they were stuck until the judge said otherwise.

Comments (0 so far!)

Inspired by (sequel to):

He absolutely hated this job. No matter how loud he turned his music up, the sound of metal on meta…

Fractal Realities: Slaughterhouse Eight

  • Published 4 years ago and featured 18 days ago.
  • Story viewed 16 times and rated 0 times.

All stories on Ficlatté are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 License. What does this mean?