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Writing > Users > Jonas > 2009

Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction


The following is a piece of writing submitted by Jonas on January 31, 2009

Gim

Gim stared at the wooden door of his cell. He knew every steel rivet in it, every steel brace. He sat upon the ground enjoying the little bit of sunlight that crept in from above. This time of year he would even get to feel the sun on his skin, something he looked forward to desperately through the winter months.

Gim wasn't sure how long he had been here. It was best not to think of such things. There were more important things to be learning he thought.

"I wonder if I am strong today?" he whispered to the gray stone walls. They did not reply.

A bit of water hung above him on a steel grate. Gently it gathered strength forming a drop and dove into Gim's cell. Silently it fell then approaching Gim it slowed in mid air to a halt. Gim looked at the little droplet at his eye level. He opened a hand and guided the drop into his mouth.

He signed a bit in boredom and looked about his tiny stone cell. He closed his eyes. Then tiny rocks scattered about the floor of his cell lifted into the air and began swirling and orbiting one another like tiny solar systems. Most of these tiny rocks resembled marbles, smooth and spherical.

One tiny rock he had just broken from the walls still had jagged edges and an oblong shape. Gim brought the tone before his eyes while the others continued to spin and circle happily about one another. A jagged edge here and there upon the new rock was sheared away. Rock dust fell to the floor as a fine powder.

A thundering knock on the door shattered the peace. The rocks fell to the floor harmlessly with tiny popping sounds. A moment later a slot in the door slid aside and two glaring eyes peered at Gim with disgust.

"How's the crack-pot today? Hmmm." The eyes taunted Gim.
"Got any Magic tricks for me?" The eyes asked. There was a deep chuckle behind the door. Gim said nothing and looked down to the floor. The slot slammed shut and Gim heard fading footsteps.

Gim glared at the door, it seemed to swell and the wood gave a stressful creaking noise. Then Gim looked away.

That night a sliver of the moon came into view. Gim starred up at it through the grate unable to sleep. He whispered to the dark and the moon, "Maybe tomorrow...I'll be strong enough."

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