Futile Battle

Flash! Friday bit o’ fun, with prompts of: Man vs Nature, and…

shipwreck-of-the-united-malika


“Bring me another, would ya?”

Stu didn’t take his eyes from the metal—it was as flaky as his grandma’s pie crust. He crouched in front of his boat, eyes squinting against the glaring sun as Vicki handed him the can.

“What the hell is happening here?” he asked, taking it without even lifting his gaze. He should have paid more attention in high school chemistry class; maybe if he understood it better, he could conquer it.

“Um. It’s rusting?”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

Stu heard the front door slam and pulled his gaze from the crumbling metal to look toward the porch.

“What in the…”

What was that discoloration on the downspout? He stomped across the lawn and shielded his eyes—damn sun, beating down on him like he was in some freakin’ desert instead of the Portland suburbs.

The paint was peeling!

Heart beating harder, he turned back to his original task, but then caught sight of his multi-purpose tool laying in the lawn. Jesus! Had Todd left it out after using it last week? He pulled it from the dirt, and blinked. The blade was as red as the blood pounding in his temples.

“You’ll never win, oxidation!” he shouted, brandishing his can. “I have Rustoleum!”

9 thoughts on “Futile Battle

    • Oooh yes. I’d want Danny DeVito to play Stu. You know, sometimes these challenges are bittersweet, because I had to cut stuff I didn’t want to just to get it to 209 words. Seems like this is the story of my blog-life, doesn’t it. Too darn much to say…I’m glad you know exactly what I’m talking about Millie! 🙂

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    • Ah, but it’s man v.s. nature you see, and he can’t relax for a moment, because you know nature will always win that Tortoise & Hare race, slowly plodding along while we humans rush and rush and rush with our cans of Rustoleum, thinking we can do something about the inevitable, unstoppable, grinding force of nature.

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