"There's a place
so dark you can't see the end"
I watched the robot make it's way down
the narrow tunnel, darkening until I could just barely make out its
dim form at the end of the blackness. I hurried after it, and scooped
it up. I carried it back into the brightly lit classroom.
"It works!" I exclaimed to my
partner.
"Let's see it," he commented.
I had been assisting teaching these
junior engineering programs for several years, and this one was more
for people who had taught or were really smart for the most part,
only about six or eight people. I had designed the program and
thought I had it good. It was by far the most difficult program I had
ever embarked upon, considering that most programs were relatively
simple. I started it and set it towards the wall. It drove forwards,
and halted a short distance before the wall as its ultrasonic sensor
sensed the wall. The robot then spun in a circle until the ultrasonic
sensor saw nothing within several yards, then it went straight again.
And it worked. Unlike most times we would use the robots, I could
walk away and leave it, and come back and it would not have hit a
wall yet. My partner, who really knew these robots and their
programming, declared that my program was "Brilliant". To
me now it seems exceedingly simple, but at the time I was highly
excited at the weeks long process finally working, just on making the
program.
***
"There's a place
so dark you can't see the end"
Someone had
evidently thought it would be funny to turn off the light in the
hallway. My vision down the passageway ended quite abruptly,
seemingly where all the people were, who would suddenly emerge into
me. I slipped through the door to the calculus class. I recognized
the other students, but was a little discombobulated in that they
were seated facing the wrong direction. The chalk board was behind
them. I turned a chair around and sat down facing the correct way
that the teacher always taught.
"Do we sit
this way?" one of the other students asked.
"Yes," I replied.
The other students
turned their chairs around to face the proper way, and I wondered how
after two classes, they could not remember which way to sit.
***
"There's a place
so dark you can't see the end"
As my
eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could barely make out the end of the
teacher's table in his office. He exited his office, and came over to
us.
"Well,
there goes the power," he remarked. "
"Good thing the laptops are full power," Felica said.
"So
you can keep doing math, right?" he asked.
"Yes,
we are all set," Felicia said. "You can really hear the
rain in here."
"Yes,
the rain always sounds especially loud in here," he said, "But
it really is coming down, isn't it. You're all set?"
"Do
you have a calculator?" I asked.
"Oh sure."
"Oh sure."
"My
calculator runs on solar power, and doesn't have a battery."
The
teacher laughed. "Okay, I have one."
"Do
you have another one?" someone else asked. "I think mine
runs on solar power too."
***
"There's a place
so dark you can't see the end"
I was
in a halo of light, which extended only in a several yard radius from
me. Beyond was nought but pitch. Ominous shapes loomed beyond, and
Linkin Park's "Forgotten" played in my head. The darkness
extending after my light was so complete that I could feel myself
staring at individual pieces of dark- never a good thing. The light I
was in was strong, yet was fading against the onslought of iniquity
ahead.
"Felicia!"
I called, "Turn on a light, are you nocturnal or something?"
She
looked up (presumably) from the living room.
"Oh,
I hadn't noticed."
"There's a place
so dark you can't see the end"
You're already doing excellent linked vignettes: linked to a theme and linked to a repeated phrase.
ReplyDeleteIt's very nice stuff and I enjoyed and admired it both. I sense that you're just writing, which is wonderful, and not worrying too much about the theme of the week, which, frankly (shhh, don't tell anyone I said this) is also wonderful in its way.
I'd prefer a million times more that a writer grab hold of an idea and a topic that suits him and then just run with it than that that writer dutifully slog through an assignment just to satisfy the teacher. You take your shots, and if they don't hit the target, I'll let you know. But if in 162 they hit a different target than the one I expected, that's okey-doke.