Supercut
Nov 3rd, 2025 by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
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Ray slipped at the top of his building’s stoop and flew face first at the cement below. Time elongated as a supercut of his entire life played out like a scene on a museum urn.
There was Ray’s first memory: being handed to a smelly, strange man, dressed in red and white with a giant beard. He’d been waiting in line with many other equally scared children. While he screamed, the scary, strange, smelly man laughed and his parents took photos and everyone laughed.
That was really the only memory that came to mind. Ray was only four years old.
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