NEWTON'S APPLE
Jonathan Kotker
(This story is fictional. Any resemblance with a person or object, living or not, is coincidental. Information about Warren is highly inaccurate and should not be taken seriously.)
WARREN, RHODE ISLAND 28TH JANUARY 1994 7:55 PM
Jachson Walmick looked up and down the mildly lit street. The roads were unusually empty for mid-evening, but then, it had always been a quite suburban town. Cicadas chirped in the distance. Many streetlights had been vandalized; the remaining streetlights emanated light that danced on the brick pavement. Vandalism was quite rampant . being a small town, Warren had to share its police force with the neighbouring city, and the police force was small. Being a small town, entertainment also was not given much impetus, hence vandalism. All these thoughts rushed through Walmick's head, but he was still proud that Warren boasted of some of the best Mechanics Engineering colleges in the country. Walmick was waiting at the bus stop after stopping off at one of his students' home. Now an established teacher at the Warren Newtonian Mechanics Engineering College, he was giving tuitions to students for a nominal fee. A noise erupted in the distance, causing Walmick to look to his left. A bus was coming towards the bus stop, a small blue bus, paint chipped off and one of the headlights broken - the light glaring out unrestricted. Shielding his eyes against the glare, Walmick waited for the bus to come to a stop. The bus screeched to a halt, particles of tarmac flying out from under the tyre - another problem worth looking at, Walmick thought, uneven roads. Walmick climbed onto the bus, strangely empty. The driver was staring ahead - not bothering to look at the new passenger (not that he had any, of course). Taking out the bus fee from a brown wallet, Walmick sat down on one of the brown leather seats, torn and frayed at places. The bus accelerated slowly, and Walmick looked at the trees and streetlights (vandalized or otherwise) rushing toward him, thinking of the hot bath and pizza that were awaiting him at his cosy one-bedroom flat. Suddenly, the bus started accelerating at a fast rate, snapping Walmick to attention. The bus was fast exceeding the accepted speed limit. He stood up to see what the driver was up to. He found himself very hard to balance at the rate the bus was moving. Slowly, wobblingly, he made his way to the driver's seat. "Hey, what are you up to over there? Don't you know we're going over the speed limit?" The driver remained silent. "Hello! Are you even listening to me?" The driver remained silent. Walmick, his temper rising steadily, clamped his hand on the shoulder of the driver, and twisted his neck around. He gasped in fear, for he knew that face. "Nayle?" he whispered, his mouth hanging open in a mixture of surprise and fear. That face, it was not the same as he once knew it. It had become white, the skin stretched taut over skull and bone, the mouth lipless. "Is you did to me, is I do to you", it said in a droning, wheezy, eerie voice. "No! No! No!", Walmick screamed and rushed (as fast as possible) to the door, banging away in the hope that the door would crumble. "Is you did to me, is I do to you", the voice repeated. Whatever happened to Walmick next, he did not know, nor would he ever. His body was covered in a film of a plastic- like substance. His body, as if carried by an invisible giant palm, was rocked towards the back of the bus and made to stand. The bus, accelerating all this while, stopped, surprisingly screechlessly. The upper half of Walmick's body remained stuck to the back of the bus, his waist gave a sickening 'glop' and the lower half parted ways with the upper, rushing forward to meet the front of the bus, smacking onto the windshield splattering blood all over the windshield and leather seats. The creature in the driver's seat curled its lipless mouth into a sickening smirk, and crashed the bus into a nearby tree. The bus erupted into flames, the creature in the driver's seat looked at the two halves with a mixture of longing, sadness and satisfaction, and dissolved into air in a wisp of green mist.
Jonathan Kotker
(This story is fictional. Any resemblance with a person or object, living or not, is coincidental. Information about Warren is highly inaccurate and should not be taken seriously.)
WARREN, RHODE ISLAND 28TH JANUARY 1994 7:55 PM
Jachson Walmick looked up and down the mildly lit street. The roads were unusually empty for mid-evening, but then, it had always been a quite suburban town. Cicadas chirped in the distance. Many streetlights had been vandalized; the remaining streetlights emanated light that danced on the brick pavement. Vandalism was quite rampant . being a small town, Warren had to share its police force with the neighbouring city, and the police force was small. Being a small town, entertainment also was not given much impetus, hence vandalism. All these thoughts rushed through Walmick's head, but he was still proud that Warren boasted of some of the best Mechanics Engineering colleges in the country. Walmick was waiting at the bus stop after stopping off at one of his students' home. Now an established teacher at the Warren Newtonian Mechanics Engineering College, he was giving tuitions to students for a nominal fee. A noise erupted in the distance, causing Walmick to look to his left. A bus was coming towards the bus stop, a small blue bus, paint chipped off and one of the headlights broken - the light glaring out unrestricted. Shielding his eyes against the glare, Walmick waited for the bus to come to a stop. The bus screeched to a halt, particles of tarmac flying out from under the tyre - another problem worth looking at, Walmick thought, uneven roads. Walmick climbed onto the bus, strangely empty. The driver was staring ahead - not bothering to look at the new passenger (not that he had any, of course). Taking out the bus fee from a brown wallet, Walmick sat down on one of the brown leather seats, torn and frayed at places. The bus accelerated slowly, and Walmick looked at the trees and streetlights (vandalized or otherwise) rushing toward him, thinking of the hot bath and pizza that were awaiting him at his cosy one-bedroom flat. Suddenly, the bus started accelerating at a fast rate, snapping Walmick to attention. The bus was fast exceeding the accepted speed limit. He stood up to see what the driver was up to. He found himself very hard to balance at the rate the bus was moving. Slowly, wobblingly, he made his way to the driver's seat. "Hey, what are you up to over there? Don't you know we're going over the speed limit?" The driver remained silent. "Hello! Are you even listening to me?" The driver remained silent. Walmick, his temper rising steadily, clamped his hand on the shoulder of the driver, and twisted his neck around. He gasped in fear, for he knew that face. "Nayle?" he whispered, his mouth hanging open in a mixture of surprise and fear. That face, it was not the same as he once knew it. It had become white, the skin stretched taut over skull and bone, the mouth lipless. "Is you did to me, is I do to you", it said in a droning, wheezy, eerie voice. "No! No! No!", Walmick screamed and rushed (as fast as possible) to the door, banging away in the hope that the door would crumble. "Is you did to me, is I do to you", the voice repeated. Whatever happened to Walmick next, he did not know, nor would he ever. His body was covered in a film of a plastic- like substance. His body, as if carried by an invisible giant palm, was rocked towards the back of the bus and made to stand. The bus, accelerating all this while, stopped, surprisingly screechlessly. The upper half of Walmick's body remained stuck to the back of the bus, his waist gave a sickening 'glop' and the lower half parted ways with the upper, rushing forward to meet the front of the bus, smacking onto the windshield splattering blood all over the windshield and leather seats. The creature in the driver's seat curled its lipless mouth into a sickening smirk, and crashed the bus into a nearby tree. The bus erupted into flames, the creature in the driver's seat looked at the two halves with a mixture of longing, sadness and satisfaction, and dissolved into air in a wisp of green mist.