an illuminating conspiracy
Flash Fiction #11:
After another day of excessive, obsessive experiments to invent the electric light failed, Thomas Edison decided to take a stroll to clear his thickly wired mind with fresh air.
At the end of the pavement, on which he didn’t know how he had come, for his mind was still jiggling in the dingy laboratory, his eyes caught a flicker. One, two flickers. Approaching the small, tattered boy sitting there under the oil-light post, Edison’s heart went tup-tup-tup-tup-tup. The boy was meddling with a carbon filament.
Of course! How stupid am I to have not realised this. Carbon. High resistance and low voltage.
‘Son, what do you do?’
‘I work in the mines, sir. After work, I do this, sir.’
Thomas Edison spared some currency and conscience. After a year, he patented the Electric Bulb under his own name.
The boy? He died in his 54th year as an unknown miner.