Looking over the edge, I realized it, but way too late:
I was way in over my head here.
I startled a little bit, which was answer enough for her.
She laughed, good-naturedly. “It is pretty scary, isn’t it?” she said, peering over the edge of the cliff with me at the water below.
I’d heard that people had jumped from this cliff before. The girl standing next to me claimed she’d done it time and time again. Thousands or hundreds of times, she’s stood on this cliff, looked over the edge, and leapt.
That’s what I thought.
Until she spoke again.
“It’s scary every time.” Continue reading “Jumping Experience”
“Did you just take your pill?”
“What’d it taste like?”
“Beef this time. But, it’s a lot chalkier than the chicken. I think when I get a refill, I’ll switch back.”
“So, it’s no good?”
“I didn’t say that,” I reply, popping another pill into my mouth.
“Don’t do that!”
“Why not?” Continue reading “Painful Compromise”
I’ve never been anything but ferocious.
In a world where everyone is an animal, you have to be. That’s the way I see it. Especially in a world where your kind is going extinct.
You have to be ferocious to survive.
There are more predators out there. More people. And they’ll hunt you down. They’ve got no problem doing it. Trust me, I’ve seen it before. Where do you think my family went, huh?
I’ve never been anything but ferocious.
Usually, it’s just directed at the world. At everything in general. Like trying to touch a porcupine. You bristle up, and they get the idea. They’ll stay away, leave you alone. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. To be left alone. At least that way, I’ll still be alive, right? That’s why ferocious is all I’ve ever been, and I’ve never shut it off. Never directed it anywhere but out.
Now is different.
I’m directed now. Continue reading “Ferocious Appeal”
Sleep is an enemy. An enemy of the weak.
I’ll admit that.
But, only to myself.
Other people don’t see it. They don’t know how weak I am. How I reject sleep. They think I’m hardworking, that I’m invincible. Unstoppable. Camera crews kill each other for shots of me, and interviewers plague my phone begging for just a second of my time.
They think I’m strong.
But I can’t sleep.
Not because I don’t want to–because I do. Like hell, I do. I’d give my soul for sound nap, and I’d give three lifetimes over for the chance of a full night of rest. But, deals with the devil weren’t my specialty.
So I don’t sleep.
I don’t sleep because I always dream.
I always dream. Continue reading “Weaks and Weeks Without Sleep”
Anchors are a very important invention. They keep you from going adrift. From wandering too far from shore. From endangering yourself, even while you sleep. Anchors are at work whenever they’re dropped. Wherever they’re dropped.
Even if you’re not a sailor, odds are, you actually have one.
You just might not know it.
It’s funny to me though. The whole idea of anchors. Because they really are very different. Both in make and model. Their purpose is the same, and they accomplish the same goals, but that doesn’t mean they’re all the same.
Because they definitely aren’t.
Not at all. Continue reading “Angsty Anchor”
The boat sat, as it always did, in the middle of the field. Abandoned, or so I assumed. It never moved. Never swayed. It lived there, in that field.
I was sure.
Because what boat sits in a field and doesn’t wait? What boat sits in a field and thinks “yeah, this is what I was made for?”
It sat in that field.
And it waited.
And every time I passed that boat, gazing at it from my moving mini-van, I couldn’t help but think that, maybe… just maybe…
…it waited for me. Continue reading “Boat in Wait”
“Hey, do you see it anywhere?”
“Where could it have gone?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen it since it’s been opened.”
“Did one of the cats maybe drag it off?”
“I have no idea. But it’s completely possible.”
The hunt continued.
Continue reading “Christmas Day Goose Chase”
A present is a present is a present. The fact that someone is thinking of you enough to give you something should, in and of itself, give you something wonderful. That, in itself, should be enough.
Sometimes what you’re presented with isn’t enough. Continue reading “The Finest Present”
It rained down on us. White flurries of frosty fury. Tiny morsels that, alone, meant nothing. But together?
They covered everything.
And it was in this blanket of quiet that I went searching.
Because the cold would only keep away for so long. Continue reading “Warm Winter”
I loved this.
The feel of the cold winter, biting at your face. Determined to freeze you. The motion of time stuck in sludge, powerless against your progression. The sound of the bells in the open, enchantingly lighter than the air, causing nature to be jealous.
There was nothing better.
And, when I finally did allow time to record me, it was only to record these small deeds:
Wonder and amazement.
Continue reading “O Starlit Night”