Lives in 300 words part one: Stories from the Lab community

She sits in the shadows, capturing the actors’ every detail. Lights flash above, bouncing off the lines of nerve and stamina etched onto her forehead. Stagehands test each orb’s luminosity, draping the theater in a glow that only those present could ever truly appreciate. Kara Tao was directing now, but this newfound power didn’t make her any less intimidated. Having played many different c...

The smell of rancid flesh and rotting blood wafts across the room. A knife scrapes through muscle, fat and connective tissue. A wet squelch slithers from the severed head. Stained tan butcher paper crinkles as the skull thuds against the table. Three to five days a week, this grisly scene is pulled from a horror movie and plunked into a biology room. The skins of two squirrels, a vole and nine birds...

He lost soccer first. Lost baseball, piano and a majority of middle school due to absences.  Life passed him by while the throbbing pain to the left of his navel got worse.  It took a bathroom floor, a sleepless night and 10 days in the hospital to realize the pain would persist. Ethan Van Ha was diagnosed with chronic abdominal pain in sixth grade.  Life continued in full color as he...

Like every other morning, senior Linsbert Reynolds springs out of bed to stand in front of his mirror for about 30 minutes and decides what to wear.  His gaze darts back and forth. First at his reflection, then his three closets full of clothing.  He picks out a pair of ripped designer jeans in his favorite color: black. Now, he needs to pick a shirt, accessories and a pair of shoes that contr...

In the bad matches, there’s no groaning, just a slow deflation, rubbing of foreheads, mentions of problems in the code.  In the good matches, there's no cheering, just a thick undercurrent of pure ecstasy, silent pumping of fists, a couple thumbs-ups to the drivers.  At the center of it all sits Nico Ahmed, smiling abundantly whenever possible, frowning only when absolutely necessary.  ...

She stands over the countertop, kneading the dough for another batch. First assembling, then measuring, she finishes by carefully sprinkling in a new type of flour. Peering through her thick-rimmed glasses, she crosses the orange-infused bread off her list. And day by day, she wakes up to drop her kids off at school. Then she drives to the clinic she works at. She has nearly perfected this routine...