My Stylish Alternative to the Rat Race
By Jake Johnson
Like everyone else, I used to take part in the Rat Race. My rat was the result of too much time under the growth-ray. It was a challenge to tame, but once I could saddle and ride him, things were a lot easier. I named him “Killer”, painted his fur a flame pattern, and taught him to roar. Every morning, when I managed to drag myself out of bed, I’d open up the corral, throw the guy some fruit, saddle him up and go. I rode in style (as much as one can in these situations), and occasionally people would notice my fiery death-rat, but it just wasn’t enough. I wanted to go to places in style. So, I started working towards better transport.
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Jake Johnson is a teenager who lives in West Virginia with his family and two cats. He hopes to make a career out of writing and move to the U.K. at some point.
By Jake Johnson
Like everyone else, I used to take part in the Rat Race. My rat was the result of too much time under the growth-ray. It was a challenge to tame, but once I could saddle and ride him, things were a lot easier. I named him “Killer”, painted his fur a flame pattern, and taught him to roar. Every morning, when I managed to drag myself out of bed, I’d open up the corral, throw the guy some fruit, saddle him up and go. I rode in style (as much as one can in these situations), and occasionally people would notice my fiery death-rat, but it just wasn’t enough. I wanted to go to places in style. So, I started working towards better transport.
After a lot of effort and a handful of vaguely illegal exploits, I got the rag. Once upon a time, it was a dish towel, but by then it had been soaked in the last reserves of oil in the world. While I’d worked for it I had no idea what my new ride would be, but as soon as I held that stained cloth in my hands, I knew.
The vehicle was an antique that had belonged to my grandfather, but with some makeshift replacements and a few glossy coats of frictionless plastic painted on, I knew the thing would function. After a bit of extensive wiring, I managed to hook some shrink rays into the body of the machine with a simple “Shrink/Grow” lever jutting out of the controls. Sure, it was crude, but it served its purpose.
Saying goodbye to Killer was a bit hard, but I shrunk him and set him loose into my house, knowing he’d live off of something. A minute later, I returned to the vehicle and prepared myself. The rag was set on the floor next to it, exactly where I’d need it. Once I’d settled myself and became prepared, I pushed the lever into “Shrink”.
Getting the oil was a problem, to say the least. Trying to farm fuel with the use of a growth ray seemed like a good idea, but it brought with it all of the things swimming in the oil. I decided I could shrink, fill up, and then grow back to regular size without any problem- I was a bit stupid that way.
As soon as I left the car with a bucket to get some, I saw exactly what the cloth looked like. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t lying flat on the ground, and there were… things on it. Things coated in chitin and limbs, colored sandpaper tan with twitching mouth-parts and spines on their legs. I’d expected something tiny, like an amoeba, but certainly not those things.
Needless to say, I returned to the vehicle, and remained there as the things came closer. Then, I panicked. I couldn’t leave and risk being caught outside, and I didn’t want to stay in the machine and wait for the creatures to get in. I grabbed the lever and was about to bring it to “Grow” when I realized that the growth could take those things with me. I trembled for a moment before I set it to shrink with as much force as I could muster.
I saw horrific creatures in the crevices of my garage, but they were simpler. I could ignore them without them pretty easily.
I saw things too simplistic to be frightening.
I’m not the most educated man in the world, but I think what I saw next were atoms. They were saw spheres, circling each other chaotically. Soon I saw even smaller spheres, and I had no idea what they were.
I then realized, dimly, that I was still holding the lever. I didn’t move.
Suddenly, I could see swirling, flickering mouths. They were… beautiful. One swallowed me, and I was suddenly in a tunnel, moving somewhere else at amazing speed. Colors flashed around me, and I considered them in awe and puzzlement.
Then, everything stopped.
The tunnel closed at both sides and I was left alone. It took a moment for me to stop shrinking further, but it didn’t seem to matter. I shifted to “Grow”. Nothing happened.
Where am I?
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Jake Johnson is a teenager who lives in West Virginia with his family and two cats. He hopes to make a career out of writing and move to the U.K. at some point.
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