She laid sprawled on the concrete stairwell. Purses and bags were strewn over the flight of stairs. She was suddenly grateful for her choice to use one of the less frequented stairs. In the instant she spent on the floor, she knew that this could be an omen of the day to come. She debated turning around and going back home, but decided not to. She gathered up her belongings, feeling the sting of the crash landing on her knees.
"At least I didn't spill my coffee." She murmured to herself as a song got stuck in her head on this already manic Monday.
Monday, July 06, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Uncertainty
This would be a new adventure. The beginning would be hard as she learned the terrain and how to navigate this wild place. She would learn. She would succeed. She had to.
She looked behind her in an instant of wavering resolve. It was comfortable, regimented, and predictable. Now all those sureties pleaded with her to stay. Maybe her new life would be regimented and predictable at some point. Maybe she could learn to live with the everyday heartbreak of unsatisfying work. She could find smaller, simpler passions that didn't make her leave this comfortable spot.
She had tried that path. For years she tried to mold herself to the expectations of the surrounding influences. She had not found satisfaction in it. She must take this journey. She had to find that Eden; one where she could leave a legacy, where she could contribute to her surroundings, and where she found her passion.
She shut door on the life she knew. She took a deep breath and stuck her courage as a badge on her chest. Then she took the first step.
She looked behind her in an instant of wavering resolve. It was comfortable, regimented, and predictable. Now all those sureties pleaded with her to stay. Maybe her new life would be regimented and predictable at some point. Maybe she could learn to live with the everyday heartbreak of unsatisfying work. She could find smaller, simpler passions that didn't make her leave this comfortable spot.
She had tried that path. For years she tried to mold herself to the expectations of the surrounding influences. She had not found satisfaction in it. She must take this journey. She had to find that Eden; one where she could leave a legacy, where she could contribute to her surroundings, and where she found her passion.
She shut door on the life she knew. She took a deep breath and stuck her courage as a badge on her chest. Then she took the first step.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
A Novel Idea
Something I've been kicking around, perhaps the start of a novel. Anyone interested?
His red hair matched the passion he had for vengeance. They would not see this coming. He would be victorious in his quest. They did not know how the knowledge had still passed from father to son all these long years. They thought they had ruined their kind by destroying their texts and the public practitioners of their ways. They didn't know of of all the others that hid themselves among all the common people. The knowledge was not destroyed. Their ways were preserved. And their strength grew, unnoticed by the so-called rulers. They would know regret and pain. His kind would again dominate over all. His people had seen the sign. He had been chosen to lead them. He will make his father proud as he lead his people to their rightful place.
His red hair matched the passion he had for vengeance. They would not see this coming. He would be victorious in his quest. They did not know how the knowledge had still passed from father to son all these long years. They thought they had ruined their kind by destroying their texts and the public practitioners of their ways. They didn't know of of all the others that hid themselves among all the common people. The knowledge was not destroyed. Their ways were preserved. And their strength grew, unnoticed by the so-called rulers. They would know regret and pain. His kind would again dominate over all. His people had seen the sign. He had been chosen to lead them. He will make his father proud as he lead his people to their rightful place.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Silver Shoes
To lighten the mood after the last post...
The shoes sit in the window display of a prominent designer shoe store on a heavily traversed city street. Cars hurriedly try to get to their destination while dodging parked cars and other impatient vehicles. There is a massive flow of pedestrians, but somehow they avoid touching and acknowledging each other as the walk to their work, or home, or appointment. They flow around the window-watcher like she didn't exist. She is so close to the glass, her breath leaves a slight fog on the window. She takes her gaze off the silver shoes to look inside the store. Two employees talk to each other near the cash register at the far end of the store. Both walls are lined with more shoes from the last show. There are a few plush seats scattered around the store, all currently unoccupied.
She passes by the store every day. She hasn't yet been brave enough to go inside. She had passed by for months pausing for a few minutes to see what new designs were on display. Today these shoes entranced her. She had to know.
She glanced at her watch. She had told her boss that she would come in today, even though it was the weekend. There were some files that needed to be processed before the end of the month, just around the corner now. She had no life, but thre overtime would be nice, so she agreed. It was still the weekend and there would be very few people in the office; they wouldn't care, perhaps not even notice, if she came in late. The decision was made.
The store was warm after sta nding outside for so long. She started peeling off her winter coat and scarf as the male sales clerk approached her after hearing the ding of the door opening. He greeted her warmly, ignoring the fact that she had spent the last while practically glued to the window. She asked about the shoes in the window. He went off, reciting a scripted spiel about the construction and about the reviews given at the show these debuted at. She reigned him in asking directly about price. He became irritated at her and said the price gruffly. She gasped audibly. He turned his nose up in the air as she turned to gaze at the shoes. He started tapping his feet, obviously making her uncomfortable enough to leave. The maneuver worked as designed as she spat out a quiet thanks and exited the store quickly.
So much money. That was more than her monthly utility bills. The shoes were so beautiful though.
The shoes sit in the window display of a prominent designer shoe store on a heavily traversed city street. Cars hurriedly try to get to their destination while dodging parked cars and other impatient vehicles. There is a massive flow of pedestrians, but somehow they avoid touching and acknowledging each other as the walk to their work, or home, or appointment. They flow around the window-watcher like she didn't exist. She is so close to the glass, her breath leaves a slight fog on the window. She takes her gaze off the silver shoes to look inside the store. Two employees talk to each other near the cash register at the far end of the store. Both walls are lined with more shoes from the last show. There are a few plush seats scattered around the store, all currently unoccupied.
She passes by the store every day. She hasn't yet been brave enough to go inside. She had passed by for months pausing for a few minutes to see what new designs were on display. Today these shoes entranced her. She had to know.
She glanced at her watch. She had told her boss that she would come in today, even though it was the weekend. There were some files that needed to be processed before the end of the month, just around the corner now. She had no life, but thre overtime would be nice, so she agreed. It was still the weekend and there would be very few people in the office; they wouldn't care, perhaps not even notice, if she came in late. The decision was made.
The store was warm after sta nding outside for so long. She started peeling off her winter coat and scarf as the male sales clerk approached her after hearing the ding of the door opening. He greeted her warmly, ignoring the fact that she had spent the last while practically glued to the window. She asked about the shoes in the window. He went off, reciting a scripted spiel about the construction and about the reviews given at the show these debuted at. She reigned him in asking directly about price. He became irritated at her and said the price gruffly. She gasped audibly. He turned his nose up in the air as she turned to gaze at the shoes. He started tapping his feet, obviously making her uncomfortable enough to leave. The maneuver worked as designed as she spat out a quiet thanks and exited the store quickly.
So much money. That was more than her monthly utility bills. The shoes were so beautiful though.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Running Away
It was all left behind her now. But that didn't stop the tears from flowing over the many miles. They mixed with the sweat that glistened over her body. The salt was already starting to dry into a flaky white grit over her skin. She didn't know where she was headed, only that she needed to go away. Running seemed to be the fastest way to accomplish that goal when she started. Now it was robotic after so much time. Her legs were tired, but they kept turning over just the same. It was painful, but not as painful as the anguish in her mind as she kept going over recent events in her head. How did she even have enough water left in her body to cry? Why couldn't her head be as numb as the rest of her body? Why couldn't she think of something else, anything else?
Resurrection
So this has been abandoned for over two years. Seems like about time resurrect it, no?
I need an outlet for some writing I'm doing, so I'll use this blog as a forum for that. So most of the following posts will not be true life. I would like critiques on the writings if you, my readers, feel moved to provide me with any.
I need an outlet for some writing I'm doing, so I'll use this blog as a forum for that. So most of the following posts will not be true life. I would like critiques on the writings if you, my readers, feel moved to provide me with any.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Winter Wonderland
So it's not exactly a white Christmas, but at least it's winter here. It iced pretty badly on Tuesday and Wednesday, so I worked from home. People drive bad enough here when the weather's fine. There was no way I was gonna go out in that. But at least it's cold. People who have lived here a while say this is the coldest winter we've had in close to eight years.
Work is just as crazy as it was before the holidays. But I'm enjoying what I do. Probably because I rock at it. I'm really curious as to what my review's going to look like.
I found a house I really liked and put an offer in on it on the 13th, but someone beat me to it. The owners accepted my offer as a backup offer because they thought the previous one would fall through. I went looking again yesterday, but didn't find another one that I wanted to put an offer on. I hope the other people's offer falls through pretty quickly though! I really want to get out of this apartment and into my own house.
But Theresa is going to come live with me after her semester at UNT ends. I'm really happy that she's coming to live with me.
Work is just as crazy as it was before the holidays. But I'm enjoying what I do. Probably because I rock at it. I'm really curious as to what my review's going to look like.
I found a house I really liked and put an offer in on it on the 13th, but someone beat me to it. The owners accepted my offer as a backup offer because they thought the previous one would fall through. I went looking again yesterday, but didn't find another one that I wanted to put an offer on. I hope the other people's offer falls through pretty quickly though! I really want to get out of this apartment and into my own house.
But Theresa is going to come live with me after her semester at UNT ends. I'm really happy that she's coming to live with me.
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