So, I’ve managed to end up here, in this predicament, where the first step will shower every room, through the sprinkler system, with paint; fortunately, it’s a water-based paint which will wash out easily, but that’s of no benefit to the diners dining, the dancers dancing, the drinkers drinking, and the cleaners cleaning (who will have to clean every inch of the Bistro’s building) should I get this challenge wrong.
The challenge is simple enough, or nigh impossible – to leave the room through that door in the corner over there – avoiding the first step.
Flight’s always an option, but you have to step up to take off; this funny panel that surrounds the block I’m on feels everything, so the slightest movement will fire up the generator, and activate the sprinkler system leading to everyone getting a nice colourful surprise.
The funny panel is too large to jump over, but again there’s that first step caveat with that if I could jump it… and it is by a pure stroke of luck I have my spatula with me, where a perfectly aimed throw would knock out the generator power, although the generator switch is neatly shut away inside that cupboard by the door, scuppering that idea – mind you, even if it was open my aim isn’t that perfect, especially with that pipe in the way.
That thought, though, has given me one way to write myself out of this corner I’m in.
I jump, I hear the generator start up, I run, I hear the pumps starting, I open the power cabinet and flick the power to this level off, I see the lights go out, I hear the clanking in the pipes, I open the door, I reach the stairs beyond, and descend two at a time, thereby not taking the first step; there’s always more than one first step, and thinking outside the box (or in this case, room) helps to highlight that fact!
A second post for Six Sentence Stories, where the theme is ‘Stroke’, and written in response to a comment Clark made over on Chris’s post:
There is a place, probably a sub-basement (or maybe an attic) at the Café that consists of a large room with a sprinkler system plumbed into a reservoir of paint. By mechanisms vaguely understood, guests, friends, intruders, employees and even the occasional Proprietor awaken to find themselves in a corner as far from the door as is possible, given the geometry of the space.
The first step towards the door triggers the sprinkler (and) a sign: in bright, round, Broadway light bulbs:
‘Write Your Way Out of This‘
I merely swapped a few things around, where the first step toward the door was actually outside of it, and not within the room. In other words, I cheated a little… ahem… walks away, flicking around my spatula in my right hand then gently blowing the end of it before returning it to my back pocket, humming, and ignoring the sounds of surprised screaming emanating from somewhere outside, obviously not within the Six Sentence Café & Bistro, definitely not… I have food to prepare.
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