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Schrödinger's Pill
01/01/2006Source: Nest Contributor. Ray Tabler 

Flash fiction from the pen of Ray Tabler.

'Take the pill.' The oddly dressed young man pleaded. He shoved the tiny, blue ovoid into Einstein's wrinkled hands.

'Why?' Einstein asked, examining the pill with a bemused expression.

'I've already explained. I'm from the future. You're dying. This pill will cure your disease and a lot more. You'll live a long, long time!'

'But, young man,' Einstein patted him gently on the shoulder and blinked his sad, old eyes, 'what makes you think I want to?'

The young man started to protest.

'Excuse me,' Einstein interrupted politely, 'I'll be late for supper.'


With that, the old man turned and walked back to where Gödel, his habitual companion for the walk home from the Institute, waited impatiently. They called it the chalk dust factory, a private joke between them.

'Who was that?' Gödel, as usual, was annoyed.

'Just a confused young man, he needs some direction.'

'Oh,' Gödel was silent for a few steps. 'Did you have the meatloaf in the cafeteria today? I did. Ach, I think it's making me ill.'

Gödel prattled on. Einstein listened with half an ear. He fingered the pill in his coat pocket. It felt hard and not so small after all. If he decided to, it would be tough to swallow.

END

(c) Ray Tabler 2006 all rights reserved

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