As night loomed down on the city, a lone doctor worked, hunched over a pristine silver table looking into a microscope. A variety of jars and containers lay in an orderly fashion around the young man along with a number of beakers, droppers and measuring cups. Everything was laid out in a nice and systematic way and indeed to any who may happen across this scene, he may appear to have some form of obsessive-compulsive disorder. His long and slender fingers thrummed against the table top in bursts of threes. Eyes fixated on what he was seeing his other hand moved swiftly, confident in its’ movements. Grasping one of the jars, he took the dropper within and then let a few drops of the liquid on the glass, all the while never removing his eye from the microscope.
The thrumming of his fingers stopped and silence fell across the room. Even his breathing seemed to have slowed to a halt. Finally, the young doctor lifted his head away and rubbed his eyes, pushing dark brown hair out of his face. Blinking a few times, he leaned back down to the microscope peering at whatever was on the glass once more.
“I …I did it.” His voice breaks the silence that had settled over the lab. It is rough and scratchy, as if he had not spoken out loud in quite some time.
His hazel eyes move across his workspace in disbelief. “They said I couldn’t. But I did it!”
Most people would have jumped for joy at having proven their adversaries wrong, but not him. He reached over and grabbed his notebook making a very detailed note about what transpired. Everything was precise and neat, all the measurements and temperatures in an ordered fashion. As he finished writing, he closed the book and then opened it to the same page before repeating this action two more times. Finally, the book fell closed and he picked up a beaker filled about a quarter of the way up with some sort shimmery red liquid.
For the first time since this endeavor began, the doctor’s hand shook.
He stared at the liquid as if thinking over what he was about to do. Then he shook his head three times, raised the beaker as if saying ‘cheers’ and gulped it down.
Setting the now empty beaker down, he paces his work space, wringing his hands together. “How long before I know if this works?” He wondered out loud to himself. A lot is riding for him on this seemingly innocent liquid. Fame, fortune….recognition for his brilliance that so many others laughed at. Yes…he showed them all.
The last rays of the sun finally disappeared sending the lab into a brief flood of darkness before the lights came on.
The young doctor was laying on the ground.
I am contemplating on expanding this free write into an actual story…thoughts, comments, criticisms are welcome. This is currently unedited