![A Small Fiction](https://i0.wp.com/pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/875394454449815552/FAzOLgVh_400x400.jpg?w=660&ssl=1)
He worked for years to invent an engine that ran on ambient disappointment.
But at the unveiling, it wouldn’t work.
Then it did.
Briefly.
— A Small Fiction (@ASmallFiction) April 17, 2018
He worked for years to invent an engine that ran on ambient disappointment.
But at the unveiling, it wouldn’t work.
Then it did.
Briefly.
— A Small Fiction (@ASmallFiction) April 17, 2018
For a while, Saturdays returned to normal. Shredded wheat in the morning. Meandering nearby neighborhoods. Walking and watching his breath float into the air. Usually he’d hear Joan strumming…