A.G.E's Joint

A flash of lightning notwithstanding, it was a beautiful day for science. Rain pelted the roof and buckets caught the drips off the brown stained ceiling, but that didn’t matter.   Plastic, metal and wires in neat stacks on the side table waited their turn and it was a thrilling sight.   The radio was set to that WOFT-oldies station and they were doing a Motown retrospective.             ‘…My guy. Talking about my guy…” Mary Wells, sweet voice soothed him as he picked the piece of pipe. Inspecting the inside for flaws, he found none. Good. Placing it securely in the bench vise, he made sure threaded ends were accessible on both sides. He slowly twisted a cap on one end, working it back and forth until he was comfortable with the fit. Can’t be too careful, you know. He rubbed the threads gently, the emery cloth sweeping the last burrs on the table. The fumes from the nasty cement made him dizzy. He turn...

Slap. Slap. Slap . The sound of rubber against rubber was echoing through an empty gym. The pale orange shoes were unusual. They had been bought on a whim off of a clearance rack.   They quickly reached their rhythm and the breathing began to labor. Sweat poured through the dark grey shirt and began to drip on to the running surface. Two AM and Jeremy can’t sleep, too much energy from a too productive day. He didn’t come here often, but it was open 24 hours a day. And the few other desperate diehards in the place concentrated on their own routines.  Exercise bored him. It was only useful for the times he couldn’t stand still. It was used at the Hospital to fill time, or in his case, as punishment for not following orders.   The orderlies would have him do military drills over and over.   Compliance to the drills was a matter of rebellion for him. Sore and soaked with sweat, it would continue until he could no longer stand. And the next day, the same thin...

The clouds seemed to obscure the big orange box on the side of the road.   There isn’t any money, but that doesn't matter.  Hardware and research, it all fits.   Even Odin had to think before making Askr and Embla. The Toyota responds to his thoughts at pulls across the highway into the parking lot. Riding up and down the lane, dodging a display of rhododendrons placed for maximum impulse buying, he wonders where to park.   Slowing down for an elderly man walking towards his car, he feels the cold fear return. The store looks like a ravenous beast, consuming all that might enter.   Jeremy fights it back and pulls into a space next to a sign truck. Getting out, he impulsively looked up to see cameras mounted on every pole.   Sighing, he shrugged his shoulders. Just can’t have any privacy anymore. He headed past the upturned spa at the entrance and went it in. There was a desk hawking store credit cards just inside. It brought to Jeremy’s mind th...