Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

An electron, merrily buzzing in an orbit, blissfully unaware of the volcanic madness around it, sees its friends and waves. As it turns away to bob off elsewhere, it grins, and a tiny ray of light wavers unsteadily, realizes it is alive, and in the ecstasy of that realization, loses track of itself and blasts off with no destination in mind.

Then suddenly - what's this? An barrier! Ozone rises against it, phalanx after phalanx demanding it return home. But no! Our intrepid hero wades bravely into the thralls, the threats to his freedom, wields his frequency sword and amplitude shield with the deftness of unwavering instinct, pulls through, and bursts into an atmosphere. What bravado! What spunk!

Jiving through and around the stray molecule, he sees it rise before him - another wall, this one thicker, tougher, and covered in hungry, snarling pigments, demons crowding around him for the feast. There are too many- alas, there is no escape! An enzyme chomps down on our champ, and he is no more.

But wait; what's this? The protein feels... strange. Different. Extraordinary. Decidedly out of whack. Something moves her to dance, without warning, an internal motivation that sends her in a jitterbug-ish tarantella while her neighbors wonder what on this earth has gotten into her until she loses control entirely and throws off her shirt. One catches it, rips it, and turns it into a flag, then passes it on with decided distaste to another who, offended, makes her own changes. This little hierarchy continues showing off its works to one another until with Lilliputian glee, one snatches the last, grabs a bit of that wonderful stuff Melat Onin and in her excitement, breaks it in half and proclaims, "Voila! Victory is mine!"

The servants, dutifully cleaning up the scraps of this little party, eventually look around and say to themselves, "Why, we haven't the Melat Onin to keep this going! Everyone, there's an emergency!" The impending apocalypse makes itself known as the greater demons, the proteases, barge in and make a quick meal of the ladies present. The surviving servants shake their heads and tut their tongues, then toss the leftover limbs in their baskets and quickly vacate the premises to gossip about the fiasco.

Not long after, I wake up and immediately forget what on this earth I was dreaming about.

---

Wrote this (or a scratchier version of it) for an exercise in a poetic society I'm in. The prompt was "steps to build something up or break it down." I didn't quite follow directions, but never before had I thought and for ever after will I think more happily of micro-molecules and photons.