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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Dark · #1544275
a short story entry for daily flash fiction prompt Mar 30.
         “Fine, go out to your damn shed and pretend to be a scientist!”
         Sam strode to the workshop and opened the door. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, making sure to lock it. Enough light filtered through the two small windows on the far wall to illuminate the contents of the shed. Shelves filled with jars of varying contents in formaldehyde lined the walls. A bench, and on it a Bunsen burner, beakers, vials and jars of compounds and chemicals. A notebook jammed with papers and formulas. There was a sink and an eye wash station against the far wall. Beside the sink was a small armchair.
         Sam liked to tinker in his makeshift laboratory. He had made some pretty good things. Last week he produced a soap that cleaned as good as store bought. I don’t give a shit what Helen thinks. I am a scientist.
         In the dim light Sam went to work quickly, fueled by anger seething inside him. At the bench, he placed a number of jars of chemicals in front of him. He removed the caps off each one and poured some of the contests of each into a large beaker. In his haste he failed to measure precisely, eyeballing the amounts until the glass container was about half full. He lit the burner and set the mixture to rest on the flame. He went back to the sink and slowly washed his hands, then he sat down in the chair to wait. Sam’s eyes became leaden as the room filled with toxic vapors.
         There was a knock at the door. “Honey, I’m sorry. Come out. I made some lunch. Honey?” Sam was able to keep his eyes open just long enough to see the doorknob twisting frantically.

word count: 296
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