Spindizzy
I found
that if you rotate really really fast, while standing looking at an
apple tree in my garden one steel grey day in September, that you can
make the world stop. There I was, doing the whirling dervish thing as
cackling fruit hung pregnantly upon the bough, the sick feeling in my
head bringing bile to the back, then front, of my throat.
I
spewed all over a dandelion plagued patch of lawn, but never stopped.
A robin
and a blackbird were laughing and pointing their wings. There was a
rushing in my head. I brought up more of my stomach and a lot more of
my liver and kidneys to nourish the sickly grass.
I was
moving so fast my finger tips were starting to burn with the friction
of the air.
And
then, all stopped. I slammed against a quantum wall as I had
predicted; my body stopped instantly with no momentum. 345,599
revoloutions per second. That was the speed predicted. That was the
speed I had hit.
And at
the moment I hit it, the world stopped rotating, its inertia failed,
and I was able to watch all the people and animals not glued or
velcroed to ground level shooting off into the ky like they'd been
thrown off a roundabout and dashed into bloody pulp upon the arc of
the heavens.
Copyright Bloody Mulberry 04/01/13
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