Mr. Glowworm

A Story by Polina Melnik

A fantasy story which makes everyone think

Mr. Glowworm

The old shutter of the receiving tank has clapped loudly with a creak, it means today is the work, and this is good. Of course, well is not that the shutter almost has been broken from the cargo drop to the bottom of the tank.

"Need to lubricate it" - thought Mr. Glowworm and indignantly sighed. The lubricating this decrepit mechanism was already about ten years of punishment for his old back.

However, a new receiving tank with a sturdy shutter and better additionally a couch with tilt-up mechanism get from the boss was almost impossible.

"Although - he reasoned - 413 block somehow got new tools. Oh, it's a pity I wasn't with them at the reception, I would also ask for something, at least some small thing - " A good urn for collection!" - from such thoughts, the mood spoiled completely.

The work was idle, and Mr. Glowworm angrily and therefore slowly approached the receiving tank, firmly take the shutter wheel and hardly turned it.

- Even the wheel knocks! - he was indignant.

The door of receiving tank opened and it seemed a small room the size of a couple of meters with rounded walls and concave floor, on the ceiling was a single source of light - the hole for dropping. At the bottom of the tank in the semi-darkness lay the work.

Mr. Glowworm looked round the package, it was big, and it was good. He didn't like small packages - ittle work, little revenue. And yes, working with the little ones was disgusting - after all, he was not insensible.

The glowworm stretched out tenacious long limbs and pulled the package to himself. With difficulty, he put the cargo on the shoulder, moved to the couch. Although the cargo was heavy, and Mr. Glowworm was long in venerable age, but he tried to handle carefully the cargo lay silently on the couch. Not without reason, the worker of 413 block receives gifts for the holiday on Earth for three consecutive years.

On Earth, this day was also called Hotarugary. Here, at "Souls and bodies" factory everyone loved this day and within half a year discussed the last holiday, or about the future. About what is to be done and how the dance will pass, how many people will be able to see it and how many will be able to understand the message. Hotarugary is the only day of the year when glowworms could leave not only the factory but also Fog field, for what, actually, the honored worker of the factory loved it. Although the reincarnation into a rather disgusting small insect didn't particularly attract anyone, however light that was able to give the abdomen of the earth creature was necessary for the message the only important mission.

Especially the youth liked to talk about this day and, of course, their speeches rarely contained the treasured conception they increasingly discussed the Earth and what they are going to visit after the dance and forgot about the main thing and because of this, the old man was a little upset. Although for almost one hundred and thirty-seven years, that Mr. Glowworm gave to the factory, he quite lost faith in the message. But still the old man was deeply convinced the youth so early shouldn't become skeptical. Mr. Glowworm still considered this day a great exaggeration, however, from the holiday gift he never refused.

Busy with such thoughts, he, carefully put the cargo and took old, rusty, but still very sharp scissors and with a deft movement ripped the package. With his thin paws removed the cloth at first from above, then carefully turned the cargo on his side and pulled out the cloth from underneath. After Mr. Glowworm got rid of the cloth, he brighter lit the lamps over the couch and bent down, professionally estimating the cargo. This helped keep the paws working and mind clear.

On the right side were purulent blisters, several on the head, a lot on hands, and the largest on eyes. "Cargo" used to call the body Mr. Glowworm. This helped keep the paws working and the mind clear. The cargo is just a work. With bodies all more difficult.

He prepared the right number of different containers from flat spots to thin long vessels then he set to work. To start, according to the schedule of work and instruction which by the way reduced only to 7 points not so long ago, he proceeded to collect. Paws cleverly lifted the cargo and turned overhead, a graceful thin vessel with a crystal lid quickly filled with the last memory. This vessel was useless this rarely managed to sell well and even more, for such a vessel it was impossible to receive a salary increase in the factory. However, the Instruction called for the observance of this point and Mr. Glowworm implemented all the recommendations of the leaf in the frame above the couch honestly. The old man corked the bottle and took the following a larger, and with the hope brought it to the body. Reluctantly, slowly flowed into the vessel fears. This is what you can get more sometimes came across real "treasures", for which the black traders were willing to pay well. Fears were almost a third of the bottle.

- Few, - thought with vexation the worker of the 413 block.

He put the vessel and took the next - very small and most valuable. Although it could hardly be filled even on the bottom recently. Once, long ago, another fifty years ago one funny incident happened.

Mr. Glowworm already worked not the first dozen years by that time and could quite accurately estimate proceeds from work. In the neighboring block received a valuable cargo - the old man almost without ulcers, he was wrinkled and withered like a winter apple. The unlucky neighbor in his stupidity filled the vessel of fears according to the instructions, although this vessel was the best and spacious of all in the set.

Mr. Glowworm smiled at his thoughts - if he had not been there then this fool would have failed with disgrace. Light streams poured on the floor, the light flowed into the gaps between tiles and fell into the sink. His stupid neighbor was running around and waving paws unsuccessfully trying to collect the valuable liquid in all vessels and pots. But workers of 400 and 398 blocks came to help. From that old man poured four bottles of light, full, to the brim.

Mr. Glowworm didn't receive greater earning in his life.

The vessel of light slowly began to fill up, drop by drop, barely noticeable.

"Well, the usual thing" - the worker reasoned, patiently holding the vessel in his paws. Nerveless deep in his heart he hoped for a repetition of that event at least once.

The light was filled by a third of the bottle - this could be considered a success in recent years. The youth generally refused to believe the story about that old man, to tell the truth, it didn't surprise glowworm, although it brought disappointment to the honorary worker of the factory

On the gurney was the last large vessel - it was still from the old set and it, apparently, forgot to remove. Currently, it wasn't necessary to use even according to the instructions. And without that, a vessel of thoughts hid something of value rarely, and even from the body with the third bottle of light and was nothing to expect.

He looked at the collection and once again look at the body. It was a young woman almost young. Hope, of course, remained. Mr. Glowworm uncertainly twirled in his paws the vessel of thoughts, he really didn't want to spend all evening to review the collected content and find nothing, for which he could get an increase. The worker looked again at the body - large ulcers but few.

"Well, need to look around" - deiced Mr. Glowworm and came closer to the body then turned on all the lights in the block.

The light painfully blinded the old, accustomed to the twilight eyes, he had to wait until eyes adjusted and the light wouldn't cease to cause inconvenience

The worker of the 413 block carefully turned the body on his back, looked closely. Lifted one leg, then the other. He began to examine the left hand and with disappointment removed the vessel - ulcers under left arm were too much.

Mr. Glowworm took away the coach with vessels for collection and pulled closer the tray with bowls and one pelvis for pus.

- In this case, soon the pelvis will be replaced with the barrel and valuable capacities will be completely removed, - he complained, while his paws continued to work, cleverly opened one boil after another then collected the fetid gray content first into a bowl then into the pelvis.

However, they shouldn't cancel this point in the Instruction - consoled himself with thought, - because only for the Chance created this place, only for the Chance Mr. Glowworm and his granddad and granddad's granddad did this work.

Currently on the Fog Field built a huge factory. And before glowworms had only a couple of sharp stones and clay bowls. And though this time Mr. Glowworm sure didn't remember and know, but his granddad at least often said it. All that glowworms did all of hundreds and thousands of years, all for the very last stage. And all these purchases from the black traders, Instructions, fabrics, salary increases - all this was just a bustling and the old man was sincerely convinced of this.