k i m b e r l y (kimmmie) wrote,
k i m b e r l y

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someone else's brilliance

So I was in the bookstore and there was the cute-ist desplay in the middle of the fiction sectoin : Chinquapin #24. I guess SC kids publish a free book every year of students' writing. Extremely impressed I snatched a copy and went on my way. I flipped through it tonight, and it is really really good, but this one short story caught my attention...and since it's very funny, I thought I'd share it.
I take no credit here, this story is by Tim Barbour (copyright 2003).

Late Night Dining
He was in observational mode; sitting silently in the back corner of College 8's Dining Hall, he gazed out into the mass of people. To the uninitiated, the scene could almost be described as pleasant. To the sound track of many muffled coversations with a hint of distant mariachi music, and bathed in soft lighting a hundred anonymous faces smiled, laughed, and talked. This false comfort made for a decidedly chilling scene. What he was watching was a collective act of self-inflicted gastronomical terrorism.

What he was watching was the horror of Late Night Dining...Drawn "voluntarily" to their doom by pangs of hunger, they gathered nightly in this cafetorium feeding-pen. Ritualistically they dined on food that, at best, was horrible in every conceivable manner. This food was designed in the sixties by the government to sap the youthful idealism and militancy from all those who consumed it, leaving in its wake a thick cloudof apathy. Based on the principal that an army fights on its stomach, this food insured an army of protestors would never rise from this student body...

He looked down at his own plate as his stomach vociferously protested its emptiness. As he lifted a fry to his mouth he shed a single tear for the generations ofyouth, and the potential change lost to this food. As he lifted a second fry to his mouth, he didn't really care much about anything...
the end.
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