Five Word Challenge June 27: Acid

As he started to move the tanks of acid off the belt and towards the gigantic scale that weighed, sealed, and labeled the tanks, Bert felt the sharp pain of sadness in his ribs. It was occurring with increasing frequency now, but it still surprised him. He’d never been sad; he neither had the time nor mindset for it. He was “Big Bert” (even though his real name was Spiro). He was 6 feet tall and weighed 260 lbs and looked like James Hetfield. Like many other men who were overweight, he wore his obesity like a trophy. Indeed, his weight played a big part in the legend that was Big Bert. How he had dislodged the twin shaft mixer with his bare hands and rescued the cleaning boy on whom it had collapsed. How- despite being so fat- he could climb up the cooling towers quicker than men half his age. Stuff like that.

Big Bert’s life revolved around the product of the factory- sulfuric acid. He’d worked at the factory for the last 23 years and knew everything about the acid- chemical, physical, environmental, and commercial. In this corroded, sulfuric acid capital of the world, Big Bert stood out as the biggest of them all, the icon of continuity and the face of the industry. Competitors had long ago stopped trying to steal him. Instead, they had made peace with his employer and with Bert.

Anyways. The day was done. Bert made himself an Acid Rain and sat down at the window. The drink was his invention. He liked to mix them for children at barbecues and shock their parents with the name. As if everything to do with acids were dangerous. It was just mashed raspberries and strawberries and oranges in a minty, spicy, juice. He’d have liked to share the recipe with someone.

Bert looked out of the window. The pain was still there. The crickets in the cacti, the crooked horizon right behind the factory, and the little dots of stars in the sky, all acted as accomplice.