Weekly Challenge #906 – Mass

Lisa Richard Tom Serendipidy Tura Lizzie Norval Joe Planet Z The next topic is Mustard Yellow LISA It’s a small unassuming word by itself. One I’d not thought much about before. Now it’s all I can think about. It’s taken over my life. It’s taken over my family’s life. I no longer have a work life. My son’s future potentially no longer features me. I’m getting letters again, all from the hospital, all about this bloody mass: the arrival of the post man doesn’t thrill me like it used to. A short walk in the woods does. Coffee. Family. The sound of laughter- everyone’s very thoughtful around me but I wish they’d laugh more. I miss normal. RICHARD Science Lesson Science… I’ve no time for that nonsense. I suffered through school science lessons. Forced to listen to rubbish about mass, atoms and chemicals, all of which went way over my head and left me completely baffled. Although, it was fun blowing up the classroom, having failed to follow any of the teacher’s instructions. Needless to say, I wasn’t required to attend science classes after that. And I’m no worse off for it. All you need to know is that the earth is flat, birds aren’t real, vapour trails spread cancer and the government is spying on you. Who needs science? TOM Mass Not Weight It takes some sideways thinking to move from weight to mass. It most like due to a limited view of reality. Basically, we are all stuck on the same rock. We don’t get to go to other rocks. And rarely do we travel between the rocks. Heavy does shift to the point we done function well. Further our scope in limited to size and how a really really large mass will cause a change in gravitation pull. If stuff orbited about us, that mass thing would be front and center. I guess density would have move friend sound to it. SERENDIPIDY Plague pits they call them. Vast communal graves filled to the brim with the dead. Unfortunate victims of the Black Death, laid to rest, hidden from sight, and often completely forgotten. But that’s not all that was dumped in the ground. Festering within the mass of bodies, bacteria feasted and flourished, seeping into the soil from rotting corpses, thriving and mutating over the years. And now, they’re digging up the roads, laying tunnels, burying pipes, disturbing the bones of the dead, and setting the ancient bacteria free. Just a matter of time now, before they start digging new plague pits. TURA L’Homme Armé ——— The king has sounded his drum And raised the armed man, Shown him the enemy That he is to kill. Let all fear the armed man! Soft as water And hard as steel, There is not the smallest chink in his armour. All flee from his path Praying he does not turn to follow. Priests sing the Missa L’Homme Armé That he may pass them by. None can withstand him Nor long outrun him. None can reason with him Nor sway his purpose. The armed man will not stop Until his enemy is dead. Let all fear the armed man! LIZZIE He scribbled on a small piece of paper.<br /> The church was dark and empty. But he didn’t feel lonely. He never felt lonely. The automatic on his back was more than enough.<br /> He scribbled some more on the paper.<br /> Then he placed it in his pocket. They’ll find it.<br /> A few pe