I’ve finally managed to complete the construction of my prototype chlorophyll reactor; a device that uses grass itself to generate cheap, clean, and renewable energy.
The building itself is ecologically friendly, made mostly out of fallen trees, although the reactor inside is cutting-edge technology.
The stories of the zombies of the forest never really bothered me – there’s always something making a haunting howl here or a ghastly groan there – and when this new-fangled pumphouse switches on, the lights will keep any inquisitive beastie away.
My probes are connected to the chlorophyll conversion chamber at one end, with tiny hair-like feelers brushing the blades of grass beneath the building at the other. Once the device is working, convection will distill the evaporated chlorophyll, firing it back and forth inside the reactor, creating energy, power, heat, and light.
The only problem is, I need power to switch the device on… and being out here in the middle of the forest, at the moment, there isn’t any… and those lurking zombies are circling closer.
Posted for Six Sentence Stories. Denise’s prompt word this week is Pump.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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