A very strange story

A very strange story

Author Josh Fickes

Hm, seeing as this is apparently the last edition of the Force File for the year, I should probably do something special.  Maybe I should write a story.  Yeah, I’ll write a story.  I talk about writing so much, I should definitely write something.  But what should I write about?  I honestly have no idea; I’ll just carry my computer around with me and see if anything interesting inspires me today.  Good thing I took that speed-typing course!  Right now I’m walking across the kitchen to get a drink of water.  Typing with one hand is challenging.  Oh, wait, no!  Sorry, I’m late for a Force Media meeting, and I’m not going to try typing one handed while running.

Okay, I’m here at the Force Media Headquarters for our meeting.  It has been twenty minutes now, and this meeting is super boring; we’re just talking about end of year stuff, and we just vetoed a proposal for a sentient print copy.  I should probably describe this place we’re meeting at.  It’s a really nice building, with lots of windows, and it’s five stories tall and very shiny and trendy looking.  You know, like the kind they put in desktop backgrounds.  The only problem is, Force Media didn’t have enough money for a full size building, so we all just stand around this melon-sized model in the forest while pretending to be in a full-sized building.  It’s pretty fun.

Oh, someone just brought forward a letter proposing a new “corruption column” for the paper.  Apparently the person who brought this letter said they got it from a stranger, either a man or woman, wearing a black suit, a large black hat, and a green cape.  Personally, I think a green hat would go better with a green cape.  Hm, I still need to find something interesting to write a story about… Oh, meeting’s over!  Time for me to go get lunch.

I’m going to my favorite bubble tea shop for something to drink before going to get lunch.  Maybe I’ll think of something nice to write about while drinking some bubble tea.  Well, I cannot believe I’m saying this, but I am very disappointed right now!  The entire back wall of this shop is covered with splatted taro roots, and my server says that I can’t have any taro bubble tea because all of the taro roots were “force slammed” against the wall.  Can you believe the lame excuses they come up with?  Whatever, I’ll get strawberry flavored bubble tea instead.

I’m disappointed.  Again.  Turns out the bubbles in my bubble tea aren’t actually real bubbles.  Can you believe the lengths restaurants will go to try to save a few cents by dropping their quality?  I mean, you can’t just switch the bubbles with gelatinous black egg sacks and expect people not to notice them hatching into small swarms of maggots right before they take their first sip.  For shame, bubble tea shop.  For shame.  I was about to tell my server about it, but he or she, I’m not sure which, just put on his or her green cape and walked out before I could say anything.  This is officially not my favorite bubble tea shop anymore.

I’m home again and reading the newspaper, looking for anything that could inspire a nice short story.  Unfortunately, there’s nothing here for a creative springboard.  The usual boring stuff, like apparently all of the trains in the surrounding area have been turning into dinosaurs.  Why is life so boring?

I am now very worried that I’m running out of time for this article.  If I don’t think of Wait hold on, sorry to cut off mid sentence like that, but I’m looking at my clock, and it says 9:30 a.m.  I left for the newspaper meeting at 11:00 a.m.  This is a bit weird, as it has definitely not been nighttime since then.  Ugh, I need to go clear my head.  Maybe I’ll go on a walk or something.  I could go walk to the clock tower.  Yeah, that would be nice.  Maybe I’ll finally find something interesting to write about while I’m there, though I guess I might have a bit more time now, if my clock is accurate with its counterclockwise rotation.

I’m now climbing the clock tower, you know, the one not far from school, right there, always just where you can’t see it.  I’m now at the top, on the balcony just above the clock face.  The view here is really nice, staring toward the east for a beautiful sunset.  Oh, there’s a gentleman, or gentlewoman, I can’t quite tell, tending to the enormous, violently glowing cocoons here.  Wait, no something isn’t right here.  Tucked behind the usual cocoons in a corner, it looks like there are some enormous egg sacks, like larger versions of the ones in my bubble tea, squirming around.  Wait, no, they’re everywhere, tucked into every shadowy corner!  I’ll ask the woman or man here about them, see if she or he knows anything.

Well, I was just forced slammed off of the balcony and am falling very quickly.  Evidently, that man or woman is not one for conversation, but oh well, who am I to judge people based on how introverted or extroverted they are?  That would just be rude.  Hm… You know, you never really remember how tall clock towers are until you’ve been falling off of one for a solid minute or so.  This reminds of that one time, last Christmas, when I was Sorry, hold on, cutting off mid sentence again!  Sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t do that!  I just sort of accidentally slammed the keyboard, had to delete all of the gibberish letters, and then lost my train of thought.  I sort of landed on the back of a pterodactyl passing by, and so my hands slammed into all of the keys on my computer.  Well, at least I’m not falling anymore.  Oh, wait, what’s the pterodactyl NO STOP


Sorry, um, I’m back at home, and it’s 5:00 a.m., as it took a while to get out of that pterodactyl’s nest.  Anyway, I’m about to go to sleep until yesterday evening, and I just thought I should briefly explain that the ravenous dinosaur which saved my life decided to eat my laptop.  The nerve!  Some dinosaurs need to learn to respect other individuals’ property!  Regardless of reptilian manners, however, I really can’t get distracted from trying to write some sort of story.  I’m typing this on my phone right now, thanks to the power of Google Docs, but I’ll probably have to finish looking for something to inspire my story yesterday.  Goodnight!


Oh my gosh, 2:00 a.m.?  Ugh.  Well, at least I feel like I got a good seven hours of sleep.  I was just woken up with a text, something from one of my friends, who I will not name for the sake of anonymity, though I have yet to read it.  Let’s see… Oh, well, according to my friend, time is now flowing in the correct direction, and it seems she was woken up awhile ago by the brilliant glow of some sort of purple, ritualistic light spewing out of the clock tower in an enormous beacon before the clock tower simply vanished.  My friend then claims to have fallen asleep for a bit before texting me this.  Oh, and apparently, upon examining the small ring of dark stones beneath where the clock tower had stood, all that remained of the enormous structure was a small basket of taro roots, and a single black ball of gel, like the kind in bubble tea.  Wait, a second text just came through.  Supposedly all of the dinosaurs have reverted back to their original forms.  To anyone who visits the Dunkin Donuts near school each morning, I would recommend visiting another caffeine provider, unless you happen to prefer a hole-in-the-roof, railroad, and pterodactyl nest aesthetic in your restaurants.

Oh, wait, no!  If time’s going forward again, then I really need to figure out something to write a story about.  I wonder if we’ll have another newspaper meeting, since we just had one today.  No, I’m getting distracted!  I have to think of something now.  Wait, that’s it!  It’s right there in front of me, something so strange and unbelievable that it would be impossible not to write about!

Hello, everyone.  Seeing as this is apparently the last edition of the Force File for the year, I should probably do something special.  I would like to present a short story, so unbelievable that I might not be able to convince you that it is not fiction, but trust me, this happened.

Last night, I received a text very early in the morning, while I was still sleeping, at 2:00 a.m.  I know this may seem strange, but it is the truth.  I would like to use this brief story as a brief reminder that sleep is very important to health, and I strongly suggest not staying up until 2:00 a.m.  You will feel more energized and less stressed if you get a good night’s sleep, and your friends will receive the same benefits, for they will not be woken up by your late night messages.  If you are about to sleep, you could always set your phone to “Do Not Disturb,” in order to avoid being woken up, but if you know that your friends are staying up late and might need to reach you, then sometimes it is worth keeping your phone on.  Just try to get some good sleep tonight, and make good judgement calls.  Thank you.

Oh, sorry, before I end this article, my doorbell just rang, and it seems I have a package.  Let’s open it together!  What?  It appears that someone sent me my laptop, even though it should be lying partially digested inside a train car inside a Dunkin Donuts right now.  Let me ask the mailwoman, or mailman, I can’t exactly tell from here, where she or he got this from.  Oh, no, he or she is driving away now.  Weird, I’ve never seen people wear capes while delivering mail.  Oh well.  Mail delivery personnel, I salute you!  You are the real superheroes of society!

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