THE CLAPATHONIST
She led a frugal life, choosing to fidget rather than heat her home. Then she fell and broke her leg. Surely her habits would change and she’d be forced into heating her home, but no. Instead, she began to clap. She’d never clapped beyond 20 seconds before, so she started softly, almost in silence. Over time, the noise grew in sync with the kinetic energy. Her thermostat rose as did the room temperature, slowly, slowly. Seven months on, with hands calloused in a warm home, she stopped just shy of Spring.
SHORT ON SPACE (# 74,883)
They never gave him much room to write, so he chose his words with care.
There was no rush, no panic, only patience.
Wait, wait for the swell to build, and the 7 word sentence to crash in on you, the reader.
Just before you hold your breath forever
SSSTHWEET DREAMS
She dreamt with a lisp.
It began as an imperceptible whistle barely heard by a dog and ended up as a swarm of bees penned in by a bushfire.
As they fried, she cried, but never once woke.
FAME CAPPING
She fought her case and won. A minor settlement but it changed legislation for ever. From that day on, no one person could accrue celebrity status beyond reasonable notoriety. Katie Price was one of the first to suffer with her fame and power eroded overnight by 91%.
Before the decade was out, the newly formed Anonymous Party won its first seat in the House of Lords.
WORLD’S BIGGEST SIP
He drank from a new bottle of water without drawing breath.
He only knew when he’d finished once it had turned inside out.
THE FUTURE PRESIDENT OF EUROPICA
The year is 2031. The date is 3 November. The continents of Europe and America are one supercontinent. One man is in charge. His name is Ned.
Like Brazilian footballers, he is known only by a single name, such is his status on the world stage. He wears an N just as he did as a boy. It was only on his 7th birthday that his mum realised he was destined for greatness, which was pretty handy, because she was pretty disillusioned with the world at the time. But this was about to change. Her day would come and she too would win the Nobel prize, the first ever mother and son duo to do so. The entire future of the world hinged on a single event on this day, the day he would be 7. All that happened was he heard a song sung to him. That song went something like this:
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday mr president Ned
Happy birthday to you
This, they say, was the turning point in the future of man. Whatever Ned said, the bigwigs did. They acted on his every word and somehow, by the most wonderful stroke of luck or skill, he fixed a very poorly planet. He married his childhood sweetheart and they adopted 203 orphans, one for every nation recognised by FIFA – his first official presidency that he took on to fill his Saturday mornings at the age of 9.
There was a Ned statue in every capital city on earth, sculpted in play doh by his mum.
KNITTING FUEL
She was a knitter, of conversation and of wool. She kept the cold at bay with the speed of her tumbling hands. 17 hours a day she’d purl and weft and weave away keeping her bodily temperature up in a house without heating. The only source of warmth was the open fire which she fed impoverished wood and scraps from the alley. The house had been built in a hurry 70 years ago, but now had floor to ceiling insulation made from the constant clack-clack-clack of her needles. Once the word got out, the energy giants moved in and built a campaign around her thrift. The comfort killed her.
THOR & THE CARPENTER’S PENCIL (# 74,895)
His writing was so surgical, it could change the climate. It wasn’t apparent to the watching world who was behind this godly stunt, but tucked away in his Nordic shed with a carpenter’s pencil down its last half inch, he wrote the words that brought rain to the Sudan and cold fronts back to the Arctic. His wife cussed his weather meddling and his dog would bite the table leg every time he hit the semi colon key, not that this had an adverse effect on matters, but it gave the reader time to rest.
His days with his graphite divining wand were numbered. Things came to a head that morning the seasons were abolished. Over half the world’s species who had adapted to a warmer planet were wiped out overnight. People awoke to one omnipresent temperate condition sponsored by Uniqlo. Birds by the million gave evidence as he stood trial in The Hague for weather crimes. The case collapsed when the judge suffered heatstroke.
THE WOMAN WHO KEPT ON GROWING
She started out adult life like any other woman. But it changed soon after childbirth. Every step she walked forward, she gained a 10,000th of a millimetre. This infinitesimal growth rate crept up on her, as you’d expect. Doorways felt lower, heels felt higher. She had her hair straightened and took to stooping in the presence of shorter men. She gave up running and switched to yoga hoping that she’d reach a modicum height. The week before her spinal reduction operation, she pulled out and vowed to walk backwards as often as forwards for the rest of her life. When the condition became common in the 2020′s, she became a non-growth guru, and her book Double Entry Stepkeeping went on to top the NY Times bestsellers. To this day, the motto above the door of her home reads:
BUSY GOING NOWHERE
THE LAST EVER GAME OF PASS THE PARCEL
There they sat, thirteen or more of them, yet none as old as eight. Around the parcel passed to the tune of a song they best not understand. At each pause, a layer was lost, just like the 37 billion other times the game had been played over the centuries. Down to the final layer and a circle of expectant faces. Before the music stopped forever, the parcel opened itself and out climbed a wolf who ate up all the children.