The Hum of Falling

My entry in last week’s Flash! Friday contest. Same drill as always: story had to be inspired by the photo below with a 160 word count max.

wine-glassphoto by blakjakdavy

The hydraulic press chewed the aluminum sheet then molded it into a sellable part. He watched as the goliath purged the items into a plastic bin at fifty-four revolutions per minute. He smothered a yawn. Ten hours of his ambition and sanity gutted daily, like a decorative pumpkin.

At break time, a lanky menace droned on about the Mexicans and any other non-white that wouldn’t kneel before the Confederate flag emblazoned on his mud-skimmed truck window.

He annihilated a bologna sandwich as his cadre of lackeys squawked at every corrupt morsel that spilled out of his outdated mouth. Daniel observed in silence, nibbling on grapes, while waiting on the time clock to sing its song of escape.

At home, he opened a bottle of red and spoke to the silhouettes crawling on the walls. They discussed art and gastronomy. Symphonies and poetry.

Daniel eventually bade them farewell and set his alarm.

He dreamt of being swallowed by uncouth machines.


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