He had spent every waking moment pushing that little screw around. His ability to manipulate it grew better by the hour, and by the third day he was able to pick the screw up and move it about in the air before his eyes. By the end of the week he could make it fly about the room with a precision that made him smile. He imagined sending the screw through the visor of the armed guard and into the eye of the man within, but as satisfying as that might be, he would still have to deal with the other man, and he only had one screw.
When the voice called out to him that morning he was driving the screw into the floor. When the microphone went offline he sped up the process until it was completely imbedded in the floor. Only the trace of metal shaving left behind indicated that there was anything special about the screw. It was tempting to take the screw with him, but he didn’t think it would do much good and if he had to make good on an escape then he would have to work with the materials on hand. If he could make a screw dance Evan was sure he could muster up enough control to fling a wrench or something like that.
- Why do humans shave? (asdfscience.wordpress.com)
- Rust Ring of Death! (unhipdotcom.wordpress.com)
- “Screwed” (thelittleredblog.typepad.com)
- The Open Door (part 5) (darktowerjunky.wordpress.com)
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- The choices we make matter. (betweentheweeds.com)
- Clay (branderson39.wordpress.com)