Hum, Carry, Fantastic

3 things to inspire 1 story written in 20 minutes. #story320
words/phrase provided by https://wordcounter.net/random-word-generator

It was almost vibrating the ground I stood on. Something in my carry-on was buzzing within the folds of clothes, toiletries and books in my suitcase. A faint hum was heard from the shaking taking place.

I looked around to check if anyone noticed. To distract from the sound I rocked my carry-on back and forth. The counter was fast approaching, only two ahead, shit! Only one person ahead of me.

Opening my bag in front of everyone would reveal to them the 3D printed knives I was taking to my convention. My toothbrush was vibrating on “deep clean”, a setting I used to clean between my braces.

The knives came apart so that none of the pieces themselves looked like weapons. This concept was intended for anyone who wanted to buy it. How they used it was on them.

If I could partially unzip my case, reach in and fish for the toothbrush, would I be able to remove the batteries?

I felt around for the buzzing toothbrush, which the advertisements had bragged “could last up to 48 hours on the same batteries.” Who the hell would brush their teeth for even 5 minutes?

Pushing past the shoes and socks. Plastic pieces were pressing against my forearm.

“Next.” The man at the counter shouted. I jerked my arm out and felt my plastic handy work slice along the length of my forearm.

Fantastic. The integrity of the blades effectiveness could not be questioned. It was the timing of this demonstration that was worrisome.

With no clue as to how deep the cuts where, I hustled to the counter, holding out my open passport. Why I chose my wounded arm to display, I have no idea.

The man at the ticket counter hadn’t noticed. He was busy copying numbers from my ticket and international ID, clacking feverishly away at his keyboard.

Blood was running down my thumb. A drip was forming near the nail, threatening to hop onto my passport.

“Do you still need this?” I asked, shaking the passport, which shook the drip right onto my headshot.

Shit.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s