Jonah in the Whale

Why did I do this?, Jonah thought.

His trip to the beach had started so well. Like some sort of living cliché, he had found a golden lamp. And of course: a brief, firm stroking action later, the Genie came and granted Jonah three wishes.

But Jonah only really wanted two: To stop and revert the climate catastrophe. And to live for, say, 1000 years to make sure he was able to witness and enjoy the good he brought to the world. However, the Genie had insisted he needed three wishes, or else none of them would come true. And Jonah, instead of going for the default set of wishes – power, happiness, money, love – was intrigued by the fate of his biblical namesake.

“So you wish to live inside a whale for a bit? Alrighty then”, the Genie had said. “I shall grant your wishes.”

And before Jonah could ask, he already found himself inside a whale. Presumably anyway, because it was pitch black, underwater, yet warm. Jonah pulled out his phone and shook it to activate the flashlight. But to his horror, instead of a large cavernous stomach or maybe a throat-hotel with a nice view of the sea between the whale’s teeth, he only saw blood.

A pressure wave forced him forwards. He was inside the vein of the whale. Another heartbeat. Another pressure wave. Jonah was getting pulled closer and closer to the heart. Heartbeat. Jonah realized that, even though he was immortal for 300 years, his lungs started to loudly complain that fresh air was not only a premium option, but actually necessary. Heartbeat. A blood stream from an adjacent vein ripped Jonah’s phone out of his hand. Jonah tried to swim towards his remaining light source, but the phone quickly got stuck at the blood vessel’s wall, while he got carried closer and closer towards the heart.

Heartbeat. Something started gripping Jonah’s feet. He panicked and tried fighting it. But it relentlessly sucked him in. He was inside the heart. Jonah started to launch a literal heart attack, and to his surprise was successful in his task. The whale’s heart started beating faster at first, uncontrollably later, and eventually stopped. But Jonah was still stuck inside the heart. And even if he had been able to tear it up and get out, he still would’ve needed to escape the whale’s rib cage, which enclosed the heart like a prison.

But Jonah didn’t get to do any of that. His lungs finally gave out, his consciousness faded. And the whale’s carcass was quickly sinking towards the deep parts of the ocean, where the pressure crushed the two unfortunate souls into a barely recognizable shape.

A deep sea crab colony rejoiced as all their food problems were solved for the next couple decades. And even long after the whale was gone, Jonah continued to be an excellent and never-ending source of unconscious, but technically alive food, right until his time was up.

The Midnight-Kalimba

The girl played Kalimba in her flat in the middle of the night. There wasn’t really a reason for her to do it right there and then, she just felt like playing. She didn’t think she was particularly good at it, but the instrument could create a calm and beautiful atmosphere in her hands. She liked sharing this feeling with others.

After a while, she stopped playing to listen for something. Was it the silence, undisturbed by cars for once? Was it the soft humm of her computer fans? Or was it the soft breath of her girlfriend, who finally had fallen asleep on her lap?

The girl took in the scene for a bit. The silence. The darkness outside. Her girlfriend. She smiled, and continued playing.

Running

Ina was running. Running as if chased by someone, as if the destination didn’t matter, just getting away from where she was a step before. She ran, tirelessly, making no turn to the left or to the right, just straight ahead. Every time she caught herself slowing down, she’d try picking up the pace again. A speaker from somewhere was blaring out the news, what terrible things had happened this day, but she continued running, she knew all of this already. And even if she didn’t, there was no point in waiting. Cars were passing her to the left, and some times she would get the impulse to cry “take me with you! I don’t wanna run anymore!”, but she never did. It’d be embarrassing.

Because after all, she even was paying her gym membership fees to be able to use the treadmill.

Echo

The girl giggled. She knew she was supposed to be a grown-up, almost done studying and about to start serious jobs at serious companies, but right now she had discovered an echo effect which enabled her to shout and feel like being in an awesome mountain rage while doing it. The echo bounced back and fourth, as if hitting the massive palace in which King Louis XV held his leisurely parties to the left, then a naked cliff not unlike the Carstensz Pyramid which the legendary expedition surrounding Inkiriwang scaled a few years prior to the right. It was a grandiouse echo, and she didn’t even had to leave her computer to get it.
As the echo subsided, she shouted again:

PIPIS!

Magnificent.

Crossroads on the Bridge

She was standing on the bridge connecting her island to the next. She stood there, like someone at a crossroads without a map in a foreign city, confused. Even though it just was a single path forwards she had to take. Even though the bridge was brightly lit, and dawn just around the corner. Even though she knew she couldn’t stay with her mom any longer.

One step after the next, she thought. Cars occasionally would come from ahead, coming way too close due to the lack of a proper foot path. Every time she had to stop and cling to the railing. She wasn’t even halfway across the bridge when she had to take a rest. She could just take an alternative to the dreadful path ahead. The way down always was there. She stared down for a long time, the sun probably rising up behind her, but she couldn’t bring herself to end it while looking.

With her eyes closed, she climbed over the railing, leaned forwards and finally let go. Falling the entirety of a meter or so onto a brightly lit containers of a ship, to the big surprise of herself and the captain who was anxiously watching his vessel pass tightly below the bridge.

The Jeweler’s Party Planner

“This isn’t happening to me”, thought the party planner as he tripped over the wire in the ball room for the third time, falling into the mirror again. The first two times, he just left some nasty finger print streaks and scratches across the mirror which King Louis XV once owned, but this third time was too much for the old thing. It burst into a hundred pieces.
The party planner was looking around in shock, if he admitted it was him, he’d be fired and, knowing his employer, a rich jeweler who might not get all of his money strictly legally, probably would get thugs sent after him to destroy his live. If he just carried on without fixing it, the jeweler would surely notice the mirror not working the moment he tried to check himself out before entering the ball room, at which point he’d be blamed for not providing an alternative, so this wouldn’t do either. He had to do something, and he had to do it quickly, and found just the right thing for the job


As the jeweler went to the ball room, he checked himself in the mirror as usual. But unlike usual, he didn’t have anything to criticize about his appearance this time. His face was bright, his smile perfect, even his posture seemed to be more elegant. Happy about himself, he went into the ball room, to the awe and surprise of anyone who looked him, for there was a big spaghetti over his face.

The party planner had exchanged the mirror with a photo of him.

The Katzenjammer

The cat was bored. Every day it’d lounge around, not a worry to be seen, every night it’d bounce around, only to get scolded by just its owner. What little had it achieved in life? Thrown down a single flower pot and a cup, before the owners stopped leaving easy prey laying around? Lay on a keyboard while they were trying to work? But don’t all cats do that? It had seen others outside, roaming around freely, stealing fish from the fishermen, pooping on it’s neighbors lawn, it even had seen a cat skate, which had gotten the attention of everyone.

The cat looked around. There was absolutely nothing interesting to destroy, and nothing to get famous with, especially not at 3am. Unless…

The cat jumped on the black box with the many little knobs and switches on it. One of it made a satisfying click, it was the one which the owner would press when he started doing loud things with it. The box started buzzing quietly. The stringy thing was ready.
The cat played a perfect Bmajor7sus4 and henceforth was known as
The Katzenjammer

The Fat Rat

The rat was fat
The fat rat sat
Wat? Said the rat
Should I be fit, not fat?

The jump was flawless
As it was lawless
The only solace
Speedy Gonzales

The rat met speedy
And was quite needy
“Will you train me, make me strong?”
“of course, you won’t be fat for long”

The fat rat that
Trained now is
A fit rit, whit’s ( // TODO: Find a better line)
No food for cat

The Double-Triple-Quadruple Agent

Jack had picked up Dimitri, as the CIA told him. He needed to get exfiltrated as soon as possible, the message was, because his cover had blown. Therefore, Jack and him had to leave country by the least suspicious method known to man, a hovercraft across the tundra, towards the icy polar sea where a submarine would await them.

Dimitri pulled out his vodka, offering some to Jack who politely refused, he probably should remain sober on a journey this dangerous. Dimitri shrugged and downed it all. He probably was done for the day.

Jack was very surprised to find Dimitri keep his cover even when drunk, chanting “death to the capitalists” and like a good commie would do. He asked Dimitri if he maybe could stop that, now that the submarine was in sight, what would the commanders think, when Dimitri slurred something about a being a double-triple-quadruple agent. And indeed, shortly before they reached the submarine, a missile from an Ekranoplan destroyed it, shortly followed by a space laser destroying the Ekranoplan, shortly followed by Hitler in a UFO destroying the space laser.

The Nazis had won after all, Jack thought just before he froze to death.

Silent

He didn’t get woken up by cars, usually rolling quickly through the cobbled street. He didn’t get woken up by birds, the geese, the seagulls, none of them had said anything. Neither had the helicopters, the sirens, usually passing by frequently, reminding him that the world was not okay. What happened? Was it him? Or was it the world?

He chose to believe the former, and started going to his home office. It had to be, for the latter would be too devastating to be true.