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https://media.pri.org/s3fs-public/styles/story_main/public/story/images/Hyder_AK%20(1).jpg?itok=Orj3EtM3
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by CT
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https://previews.123rf.com/images/mitrarudra/mitrarudra1709/mitrarudra170900069/87254773-beautiful-image-of-kandariya-mahadeva-temple-khajuraho-madhyapradesh-india-with-blue-sky-and-fluffy-.jpg
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They cannot stay in the air, they are already beginning to descend.
By MD
It was Arnie the Architect’s dream to build floating structures. He researched the applications endlessly in his spare time, doing structural analysis, studying stress and load scenarios, testing the strength of various materials—even completing aerodynamic investigations based on Bernoulli’s equation.
Arnie started small, building table and desktop models of assorted commercial and residential buildings. After many years, and much trial and error, he finally produced a system which enabled floatation for even very large structures. He quickly patented his invention and began the tiresome process of attempting to construct and float one of his buildings in a town—any town.
In spite of impressive demonstrations for various developers, town councils, urban planners and other bureaucratic officials, Arnie was stymied at every turn. He couldn’t even float an idea, much less a structure. Developers were turned off by the expense involved; politicians feared the fallout—literally—which such a newfangled edifice might impose; environmentalists objected to the effects of floating buildings on air quality; and OSHA cited safety concerns for occupants of these structures as well as those who might venture underneath them.
Discouraged, Arnie the Architect commenced traveling the world attempting to market and build a prototype of his marvelous structures. It wasn’t until he arrived in Sri Lanka that he finally found a group of Buddhist visionaries who were willing to take the chance on a floating temple. Arnie hired some locals and the work began.
Many, many years went by while the temple was being built. Arnie was an old man before he realized his dream of floating an architectural wonder of his own design. From his wheelchair, he gave the order to the workmen to engage the floatation equipment. Mesmerized, he watched the beautiful structure rise, with layers and spires piercing the sky as the breeze blew under the building and swirled around the statues and steps. (It was then—seated in his wheelchair that he recognized he forgot to design for handicapped access. But no matter—Arnie swelled with pride at his own architectural accomplishment.)
He wheeled himself under the temple foundation and gazed upward. Almost immediately, gravity exerted its force on the pillars and statues. “They cannot stay in the air, they are already beginning to descend,” Arnie muttered glumly. The floating building gave a sudden gasp just as it plopped down on Arnie. He emitted his own great gasp and died, squashed like an insect. The gravity-bound temple was a fitting gravestone for the great Architect’s final resting place.
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http://geraintsmith.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/rio_chama_abiquiu_1083_1088.jpg
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by BG
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https://img-s-mscom.akamaized.net/tenant/amp/entityid/AAgJI0w.img?h=403&w=624&m=6&q=60&o=f&l=f
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The college sits just west of a massive wilderness area.
By CC
The college sits just west of a massive wilderness area. Thank God it’s no further, thought John Barker, sitting at a stop light waiting for a small hamster pushing a shopping cart to cross. The damn things took forever to get across the lane. He revved his engine a few times in hopes he would scare it into moving faster. These ridiculous college programs, he thought. It’s not enough to protect fire ants and make shoebill cranes into celebrities. Now they had to socialize hamsters into living in ideal no-waste tiny home green communities in the wilderness. It was pitiful to watch the small things laboring over their carts. He couldn’t imagine how they got them across the forest floor to their little hamlets deep in the woods where they would starve to death if left to their own provenance. College students clearly didn’t have anything better to do, he thought to himself, fuming. He scanned the foliage towards which the creature was laboring and thought he saw a pile of miniature shopping carts buried in the greenery. He shook his head in derision.
Finally the light changed and he accelerated through the intersection. It was going to rain soon. He gunned his old Nissan up the hill and into a parking space behind the mini mart where he worked. Before he got out of the car, he heard gunfire in the shop and quickly hunkered down, peering over the rim. To his shock, a hamster pushing a tiny cart filled with travel minis of whisky and vodka barreled out of the store and skittered across the parking lot before disappearing into a pile of brush. The store owner fired after it but his bullets went wide.
“Damn things,” he said to John. “Hope I didn’t scare you.”
He handed the gun to John. “It’s your shift now. Happy hunting. Those little monsters feel entitled to anything they can carry now.”
