Crush

It stopped. The ceilings, the walls, of countless floors above, reduced to a pile of chaos. Dust filled her nostrils and burned her eyes. She didn't dare try to move.

Through the beams she could see her friend. Motionless. "Can" - was all she got out before choking on the ash and debris that rushed into her opened mouth. She buried her face in her coat until her coughing subsided, then slowly shifted her weight, only the tiniest bit, to free up her left hand which was pinned above her head. She could feel the the stinging sensation of needles rushing through her arm as she tried to move it the slightest bit, but the tingling stopped at her wrist. The rest of her hand was firmly wedged. In what she couldn't tell, but it wasn't going to move. Not without bringing down the structure surrounding it.

Lust

Lust

I've been in lust. But not very often. I prefer love. I like love. Lust is fun though. Well.... when it's requited. Otherwise it's a drag.

Though not as bad as when Love is unrequited.

Hmmm... Lust is looking better all of a sudden...

Morals

Morals

Aesop's fables.

"Where do the animals walk like we do, where do the animals talk like we do? In the fables of.... Aesop..."

That's a line from a song in a show I did when I was six years old. I remember most of the score. My mind does that ;)

"There's a lesson in every fable. Find it if you're able. Every animal that you see, is a portrait of you and me..."

Antlers

Antlers

I think of ski lodges. And reindeer... And male animals butting heads. Man that always looks like it hurts. I mean really hurts! They bash hard!

Now I'm thinking about a jackalope....

Drive out through the midwest and you'll see them for sale at several places. Taxedermied Jackalopes. Along with chupcabras.

Cells

Cells

Division... mitosis...

Bubblewrap

Cancer (there's a happy thought.)

Spy cells...

Biology class... I still have a biology book I need to throw away. From High School. It was a study guide for something. Yellow cover. I still like reading it sometimes. I liked bio. I found it interesting.

Somehow I managed to get through school without ever having to dissect anything. I wouldn't have been able to handle that. An autopsy? Maybe. But killing something just for the purpose of dissecting it? Makes me ill even thinking about it. And angry. Incensed is more like it. Can't wait for holograms or synthetic substitutions to take over the role of "expendable specimens."

Predict

Predict

All this crap about “no one can predict the future?” Of course we can. Cause and effect. You jump off a cliff, you’re gonna die. Unless it’s a really lame little cliff.

Psychics and oracles? Lots of the time they’re just a little more aware. They notice things other people might not and can factor that into some of their predictions. If you had the ability to notice the factors that they do, and had a lifetime of applying that knowledge to cause and effect, you’d probably be able to predict some futures too.

Is anything predictable to 100% certainty? I don’t think so. For example, that cliff? A UFO could swoop in at the last moment and break your fall. Or a really really big bird.

Held (II)

I held my breath thinking that, if I acted dead, no one in the room would bother with me. Maybe they wouldn't even see me. They could just steal anything they wanted and GO.

There was no one in the room, but after a nightmare I was always terrified to move. Terrified to look like I was breathing. I'd try logic "There's no one in the room. Why would someone be in the room? There's NEVER been anyone in the room. You're just thinking about this because you had a nightmare, but there's never been anyone in the room before, so what are the odds that someone would break in THIS night, for the first time EVER, JUST because you had a nightmare?"

And my reply to myself was always "Yes but that doesn't mean there couldn't be someone in here right now!

Staring....

Don't move....

Don't breathe...."

When I was younger I'd also try to make myself as flat as possible under the covers so it would look like I wasn't even in the bed. - I can't quite pull that one off anymore.

Held

Held

I held the stone in my hand. Afraid to let it go. I wasn't sure why. I knew there wasn't anything really special about it. But it had been a gift. The first I'd ever received from them. And I held it tight. All the way home. And all through the night in my bed.

Belief

belief

arg.

I wrote something, and then saved it to my computer instead of posting it. I believe that some things are best kept off the net. Which sucks because sometimes that stuff is really good! But if it's a memory, it may be too identifying. And if it's a story arc, it could be stolen (*gasp!*).

Some people don't believe this at all. They put themselves whole-ly out there. I admire them. But I don't think I could ever be like them.

-That's my belief anyway.

Wonder

Wonder

Bread.

What was with the colored dots on the wrapper? Maybe it was meant to make the bread more "fun." I always thought it was. Used to ball it up into a big dough blob...

Ok now I want some. I don't care how bad it is for you, I liked it!

Smile

Smile

I think of the musical. Which probably very few other people remember. It was a musical that kind of poked fun of beauty pageants, but not in a mean way. I thought it was nicely done. It was cute, and funny. It was a musical after all. I remember a couple of standout songs and performances, and at least one person went on to have a pretty big career. But very few people remember the show.

Train

Train

The one I missed after bashing into the wall?

I wonder how long it will be until trains are obsolete. They run in straight lines, on a track... They're pretty crude compared to other transportation.

Another 100 years maybe? How long until people decide they're not worth maintaining?

Station

Station

I ran towards the wall as fast as I could, bashed up my grocery cart and got a huge bump on my head.

Embraced

Embraced

She held onto him and knew she was going to die, and she didn't want to let go. She didn't want to face it alone. She wanted death to come swiftly, and wished with all her heart for a rouge sniper to appear from the woods and shoot her so she could die at that very moment, and everything would stop and never continue. But there was no mercy in the Universe. Not before, and not then. She felt his embrace weaken, a sign that he'd had enough. She prayed for a sniper once more, then stepped away, knowing they would never see each another again.

Beloved

Beloved

Huh... I don't think I've ever used that word. It sounds... a bit flowery or old fashioned to my ears.

I'm trying to use it in a sentence and it's not coming to me. The closest I came was "Bewitched" ;)

(PS: I know the word, I just don't use it! I don't like it for some reason. It seems a bit "much.")

Funeral

Funeral

I didn't want to go to them when I was younger. I wanted to remember people the way they were. I didn't want to go to memorial services either. I was aggravated. Felt like it was private. I felt like I'd be annoyed with other people there.

Who were they to impose their feelings on me or expect me to act a certain way? They didn't know the deceased the way I did. They knew them the way THEY did, which was fine, but I didn't want to deal with them. I wanted to grieve in my own way.

Now I attend them, and can't think of a reason why I wouldn't, unless I expected to run into people there I didn't want to see.

Teacher

Teacher

I liked so few of my teachers. It's not that I didn't like them really. It's that so many of them didn't know what they were doing. In grade school that was frustrating. I mean if they didn't want to be there why should I? But by the time I got to college? Seriously? I was paying for an education and I knew more than most of my professors? - Aggravating.

(Again, this is not to say all teachers are like this. I just had a bunch of duds! I also had a few that were inspirational. But very few.)

Corner

Corner

That's where the sound was coming from. But there was nothing there. There never had been. She'd always assumed she'd just imagined it. That, after being sent there so many times, boredom had caused her imagination to start hearing things. But in fact, it was her spending so much time in that corner, that drew them to that space.

Painted

Painted
... ponies go up and down...

Painted... I think of clowns. Ok now I'm thinking of a very funny comedy bit I heard recently. Too long to post though. Had me laughing out loud in the Dentist's office of all places, as I listened to it in the waiting room, then the dentist chair, then while waiting for my filling to dry...

Laughing. At the dentist's... -It was that good.

"Clown!"

Chalkboard

Chalkboard? Hmmm....

Are those even used anymore? ;)

Remember, there was a thingy that was used to draw a bunch of lines parallel to each other? Like a holder that held maybe six pieces of chalk? I think it was used for drawing music staffs on the board. Maybe also for grids and graphs.

I tried using one a few times. The chalk always broke or fell off, and the lines I made were all jagged with gaps...

It took real talent to use such a highly complicated device.

I guess I wasn't meant to be a music or math teacher (yeah that's why... the chalk...)

Radio

Radio

Song is in my head now. Thanks a lot. It'll be there all day.

"And you said it really loud you said it on the air, on the radio. Whoa oh oh oh ohhhh, on the radio, Whoa oh oh oh ohhhhh..."

There. Now it's in your head too ;)