Ficlets

Words that move

Words! More Words!”, shouted the commander.

I shuddered, thinking to myself, but I’ve already typed in almost every story I remember as a child, and all of the news I remember as an adult.

However, that was the task at hand, for my 8-hour shift, 6 shifts a week. Type, type, type. Key in as many words as I can remember, with bonuses for creativity and unusual combinations of history, biology, and religion.

I never fully understood the mechanism by which these words were turned into energy to propel the giant ship. When I signed on for this “see the stars!” mission, I had no idea what I was in for. I had imagined that my skills would be used in a different way.

I typed in a little rhyme I recalled from third grade. “Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, its fleece was white as snow.” I pressed the giant accept button above the screen. A quick report showed that I got 14 milliwatthours from that particular rhyme.

Sigh. It was going to be a long shift.

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