Story Time, Volume 32
This week's @DailyMicroFiction twitter stories, plus a bonus story at the end!
"The stretched head of a drum, or the taut pull of a string - beautiful music comes from tension," the teacher said.
The boy looked down at his trumpet.
"What about brass instruments?" he asked.
"Bah," the teacher sniffed. "Theirs is the tension of a drawn-out fart."
The comets streak overhead; each one a weaver of ephemeral gossamer into a nighttime tapestry of light.
On every tree he passed he chalked the sign. And like a meme, the idea spread.
The glyph appeared on trees around the world. A few lines, a couple squiggles - incomprehensible to all.
All but her. Finally, on a hike, she saw it. And she smiled.
Mission accomplished.
He thrusts the diamond into the beam, but no rainbow burst forth. Instead, numbers splashed across the room - binary ones and zeroes.
They said it was impossible to crack a diamond’s encryption. Pulling out his laptop, he got to work proving them wrong.
On scraped hands and blistered knees he scrabbles, microscope in hand - searching with feverish haste.
A fingernail. A lock of hair. A flake of skin.
If he can find enough, he reasons, he can reassemble her.