Five Minute Fiction 101
Five Minute Fiction is an ongoing experiment. The goal: To write as much as I can in five minutes, letting the fingers do the work, then go back and clean it up. Written quickly, these aren’t perfect stories, composed on the spur of the moment with little forethought and limited writing time. They’re nothing more than first drafts. Please consider these simple weekly exercises, with the singular hope that I don’t bore the reader.
I happened to have gotten sick this weekend after my camping trip, so I stuck to my self-imposed five minute time limit to write this post then quickly found my way back to the couch.
Admittedly, this is not my best work, but hey…I’m sick.
Yesterday I read about a koala in Australia who performs open heart surgery. His success rate is higher than any other cardiac surgeon, with limited occurrences of infection and complications. Doctors around the world study his cases, and his revolutionary technique of oxygenating blood by filtering it though a layer of masticated eucalyptus leaves prior to reintroducing it to circulatory system has been included in Dr. Conrad’s esteemed book Modern Surgery, Modern Times, Harvard Medical School’s Four Chambers study guide, and Keystone Logic’s Heart Surgery For Dummies.
It’s been noted in the press that the natural inherent dexterity of the koala’s tiny wrists make it the obvious choice when undergoing delicate work such as heart surgery, especially when dealing with complications related to Adriatic defects and ventricle tears where their ambidextrous, dual opposing thumbs and rough pads are able to manipulate human tissue with surprising ease and precision.
Though lacking vocal chords capable of human speech, this amazing marsupial communicates through a series of hand gestures, ear twitches, and a rudimentary form of Gerke code which he taps out with his rear climbing claws as he operates. This, of course, has forced his technicians to undergo a rigorous communication course to ensure that interpretive mistakes are not made during complicated surgical procedures.
So respected is this koala that he’s been granted honorary doctorate degrees from such prestigious schools of medicine as the University of South Dakota, Ohio University, and the University of Washington where he gave the commencement address for the class of 2010 in which he famously tapped out on the oaken podium with his climbing claws on that warm June afternoon these words:
“Learning how to think really means learning how to exercise not only the mind but also your smaller pterygoid fossas. It means being aware not only of the branches you navigate, but their thickness and well. For if you pay attention and focus on your surroundings you can construct meaning from the tiniest of details. Oh, and eat your greens.”
It’s also been noted in the press that the author of this piece is a habitual liar.