Another not-that-mature effort this time, perhaps, but it’s not very long and does include reference to the concept of “morphic fields”, so it’s not all lowbrow. And it’s probably an incorrect reference, but the lead character isn’t meant to be a scientist or anything.
Much like myself. Oh, and if you want to see the situation in which I wrote this, Tuesday’s post on writing environments still exists. This story came out of a conversation I had whilst on holiday in Austria, and is the closest you lot will get to a souvenir. Enjoy!
By Nick Bryan
After picking his way up the whole mountain, Lewis Reilly was getting light-headed. When he looked back, the ground looked massive, yet the houses were like toys.
It would be exaggerating to describe what Lewis had done as “mountaineering”, after all it was a small peak, not to mention an ascent entirely on foot. Not high enough for there to be snow on top, although still sufficient to shatter every bone in his body if he slipped.
Considering Lewis was a man who had struggled to walk all the way into town centre from the suburbs, this was a spectacular undertaking. He was surrounded by people who had clearly been preparing for this much more carefully, whereas he only had two bottles of water and his wits.
Still, he’d made it. The summit! He took in the fresh air and then set about his business.
And this probably requires some explanation: a couple of months beforehand, Lewis Reilly had marched out of his door and been crapped on by a pigeon. He hadn’t liked the flying feral bastards before now, but being dive-bombed was simply not acceptable. There were standards. There were rules.
The pigeons, he thought, simply didn’t understand that these things were disgusting. And he’d once heard of such a thing as a morphic field. An idea that, once a certain percentage of animals learnt a skill, the entire species rose up to grasp it.
Well. Lewis didn’t pretend to have a high-level grasp of morphic field theory, or anything else complicated, but if he could get the lesson across to even one bird that having crap rained down on you was unpleasant, perhaps the whole lot of them would come to the same realisation. So, with that in mind, at the top of a non-snowy peak, Lewis went to find an unsuspecting bird perched below that he could go to the toilet on.
Copyright me 2012, don’t steal, email me if you want it for anything, and yes, myself and my friend were up a mountain in Austria watching the birds go by. And talking about poo. As one does.