Friday 27 September 2013

All the Stories Matter: Hot Air




Hot Air

Inspiration:

"Spring Kite and Cat Dreams" by Olga Dabrowska
  

Mummy:

As Mrs Dabrowska started explaining the periodic table, all Kat could hear was the hiss of hot air. Science was normally one of her favorite subjects, but the day was too warm, the sun too beautiful, germinating Kat's fertile imagination to the possibility of at least 467 other things she could be doing at this time, all infinitely more pleasant than sitting in this classroom on this early autumn day. Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, Boron….. How on earth did learning the elements of the periodic table help her fully appreciate this jewel of a day? There would be fewer and fewer days like this as autumn crept closer to winter; the wind would gain an unpleasant chill and the trees became barren of leaves. Hydrogen, Helium. Gases that deserved to be free, to play in the breeze, to ride those winds like a kite, up, up, up to become one with the ozone, somewhere in that infinite beyond. That thought was too much, and Kat started planning her escape.


 

Scanning the room for the most logical of the possibilities, her eyes settled first on the windows. Four large square panes spanned the length of the classroom, sealed tightly in their aluminum skeleton, unmoving. Four slim rectangles above those; open under the pretense of allowing fresh air to circulate. The reality was an anorexic spider would get stuck trying to fit through the next to non-existent gap. No obstacle for escaping gas though. The green field of freedom was confined by those unrelenting frames. So provocative, she thought she could even touch it – if the glass wasn’t there.  She scanned the shelf of chemicals. Hydrochloric acid, Sulfuric acid, Hydrofluoric acid? Surely one of these should dissolve the glass? Mrs Dabrowska would know. She debated raising her hand to ask but that might give her intentions away prematurely. The windows were a no-go.

The door was another obvious choice. Perhaps even more so than the windows, but without the tantalizing view. But to get there, she would have to clear four whole rows of benches, Bunsen burners, beakers. Each with determined attendants dedicated to the science. She knew she could go under or around most of them unnoticed, while her teacher was turned away, scratching on the board in a language of symbols that would not be out of place somewhere deep in the great pyramids. But the last bench left of the door was manned by Eddie, Kevin and James.  Even their names brought a heady mix of awe and fear. Together they knew more about chemistry than the antiquated textbooks they were forced to endure. And they weren’t afraid to use that knowledge in a way that left substitute teachers quavering “ I don’t know, I’ll have to get back to you with that answer”. There was no way her escape would go unnoticed by that all-seeing trio.

She was defeated. The thought weighed on her shoulders, her back slumped further as the heavy humid hot air of the lab became too oppressive for any sort of proper posture.  Somehow her ears found out key waves of sound amongst the hot air. Atomic weights... helium... hydrogen. A stagnant brain made a foggy connection and she looked up. At last the answer, a skylight right above her, latched casually and forgotten. The canister of helium was behind her at the back of the class and even more conveniently a hose still attached. With a quick flick of her fingers the tap succumbed to her touch and the gas was released. The hiss of the fugitive gas masked by that now welcome drone: Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, Boron…  She sucked eagerly at the hose, tasting the freedom it promised.  The thought of a high pitched Donald duck “Hydrogen helium....” crossed her mind briefly, but she dismissed it and continued to let freedom fill her up. 

Kat was overcome by the most amazing sensation of lightness, then weightlessness. Her skin stretched taunt and her limbs stuck out like a scarecrow. Then, the moment of take-off, the point of no return. Her body left the ground, toes stretching out for one last kiss of the ground before they too lifted beyond reach of the earth. Her success was silent as she slipped away from the class. Unnoticed and uncelebrated by anyone but Kat herself. She was a kite tethered by one last thread until the hose slipped from her grasp falling to the ground. Then she became a balloon, floating higher and higher, pushing through the skylight and into the unknown. The sky truly was no limit with the help of science, leaving nothing in its wake but warmed O2 + N2 + Ar + CO2 in the perfect composition.


Erin: 

Story #1. Annah is flying her kite. It is really fun. Annah is my sister. 
Story #2. This is Erin flying my kite too. It is fun.


Read more about what inspired our "all the stories matter" collaborations in creative writing here  and here.





What do you think of our stories ? Why not write one yourself inspired by this picture and share your results with us here….

 





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