Microdosing - 100mg of a Matryoshka
Prompt: Matryoshka
Today on Microdosing our prompt MATRYOSHKA!
Write a story in 100 words!
Don’t forget to tag me if you follow along with the challenge.
Sometimes, you feel like you know a person. I certainly did. For five months, I've been falling in love. He knew the right words. Knew the right moves. Always knew what I wanted before I wanted it.
Everything was perfect, too perfect.Â
Then I found the second phone, then the fake passport. Of course, the work trips were also bogus. Suddenly, I peeled off layers and layers of secrets, like a matryoshka made of lies, until there was an unrecognizable manipulator standing in place of a man I loved.Â
Sometimes, you feel like you know a person. But do you?
Hey guys! There’s no Batch today, I’m out of town and wasn’t able to put it together today. But here is a few micros I enjoyed through the week by
and
I don’t know how to tag yet as I’m new here so, this is my take.
The Grim watches the mother unblinking as she rocks her baby. It looks down at the wooden figure it holds, using a long, sharp fingernail to carve a smile across its face.
A slow smile spreads over the Grim’s own face, needle sharp teeth glinting as the candle in the window flickers.
The Carving was done. Now, for the Filling.
The church clock strikes twelve and a baby cries, wanting his mother. Inside of the doorstep sits a matryoshka, newly painted with rosy cheeks, the dress drips red onto the floor, the puddle too large. The mother does not come.
"We're calling the weapon "Matryoshka," said Pilkington.
"Why's that?" asked the General
"The projectile uses launch energy and a nano-fabricator to make ever smaller versions of itself, inside itself, re-using its own mass and applying spare mass to increase thrust. Density and speed thus increase exponentially whilst size decreases inversely. Eventually its speed, size and density render it undetectable and unstopable. We're test firing in 3...2...1"
Pilkington's head vapourised into pink mist, a laser thin ray of sunlight beaming into the room.
"Bravo, Pilkington!" said the General, cleaning his glasses "That must have taken some brains."