The Diver

The diver stood before us holding a thimble too small to fit on the pinkie of either hand. The thimble was filled with water, much less than what could swish around a small mouth after brushing.

“I will dive into this,” he announced, to our astonishment. He then climbed a ladder that went up into the clouds.

He was so tiny we could not see him. If we had looked away at any point, we would have never believed him to even be there.

Seconds later, the water in the thimble moved.

We looked down to see him inside, smiling.

From Guest Contributor Ran Walker

Ran is the author of 25 books. He teaches creative writing at Hampton University in Virginia. He can be reached via his website, www.ranwalker.com.

Assembly Required

His parents were poorly assembled themselves. Throw meth and booze into it, and no wonder he grew into a discombobulated mess.

Those who tried to help fled after one too many black eyes from his spazzed-out fists. Well-meaning therapists nodded blankly as he sobbed.

One part worked, though: his left pinkie.

Undoing himself was no walk in the park; piecing himself together was the challenge of a lifetime.

Through trial and error, he bravely persevered.

And one day, like a miracle, all his parts beautifully aligned—with only an occasional faint clicking sound to remind him how far he’d come.

From Guest Contributor Michelle Wilson

Michelle Wilson’s words have appeared in Entropy Squared, 50-Word Stories, 101 Words, Literally Stories, The Miami Herald, and elsewhere. She lives in Miami Beach, Florida. Sometimes, she can be found here.