Thursday, May 31, 2018

Stars


The stars have been old for so many years. Balls of burning hydrogen and helium, aged millennia before we humans started paying attention to them. Unblinking, unwavering. The map above our heads, the reminder of things beyond us, the grandeur and power and majesty. The silent symphony crescendos above our skulls, constant and unchanged. The space between the stars mirroring our fears, the shining bits of bright mirroring our hopes. The great blanket of twinkling sky reaching out the possibility of promise to us. Far reaches of light in a far-flung galaxy, steady pinpoints in the sky, leading us home.

drabble day 31: powers

people have super powers, they just don't recognize the power as, well, a power. for example, ana-maria always finds four, five, and sometimes seven leaf clovers. I've literally never found a four leaf clover ever. or take nathan. no one knows where nathan lives. it's a mystery. even his best best friends can't tell you his address. there's a man on the internet who posts videos of him playing piano for cats and they seem to always fall asleep on his lap. you can't tell me that's not magic. our real struggle is recognizing powers as powers at all.

drabble day 30: magic

mailboxes have magic. at least the ones around here, where i live, in new england, in what we refer to as suburbs, "thickly settled" villages. the kind of free standing mailboxes that reside at the end of drive ways. the kind with little red flags that, when stood at attention, lets the mail carrier know that something waits inside to be picked up and delivered. the kind of mailboxes that sometimes look like tiny houses or big fish. they all contain magic. they hold inside them wonder, wealth, bills, and acceptance letters. and sometimes they become homes to disguised princes.

drabble day 29: office plants

i water the plants in the office once a week. usually on monday. i keep my headphones in, work with the lights off, and ease my way into the work week. depending on the size of the planet, . i have an old bleach bottle and a big bowl to fill with water from the bathroom sink. from a desk orchid that I've gotten to bloom again, to palm trees that are twice my height, all the plants get a hello, a good morning, and a big gulp of water. very rarely do i move them around the office at all.

Wednesday, May 30, 2018

Taste


I just don’t understand it. Some people think cilantro is delicious and I tend to agree. Guacamole is just not the same without a bit of leafy green. White chicken chili benefits by the addition of the herb.

Other people think that cilantro tastes like soap.

I just don’t understand it. Some people think that chocolate is only improved upon by the addition of mint. Something about the cool mint against the smoothness of the chocolate. Something about how delicious mint is when swirled through ice cream.

I’ve decided I don’t like it when my ice cream tastes like toothpaste.

Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Cake


It’s hard to find the balance between the two philosophies. The one claiming that you shouldn’t eat the cake so that you feel good. The other claiming that you should eat the cake so that you feel happy. Why does there have to be a dichotomy like this? Why can’t we be good and happy at the same time? Why are these the only options we have? The magic eight ball doesn’t tell the day the story ends. Would I rather have a story filled with yes cake or no cake? If I’m being honest, I think I’d like both.

drabble day 28: guest

a good guest says please and thank you. ideally in the host's native language. a good guest takes their shoes off if the hosts takes their shoes off. a good guests offers to help clean up, and is gracious when the host refuses the help. a good guest brings dessert, even if the hosts says they don't need to bring anything. a good guest tastes the food before adding salt. a good guest askes where the bathroom is, even if they think they already know. i am trying to be a good guest on this beautiful spinning orb in space.

drabble day 27: alli

alli had a name change at about 10 months old. she'd been called alley. but anyone who knows alli knows that she is refined. fancy. she's no street cat. so when she moved in with us, we adjusted her name to better suite her style. her crossed paws. her big eyes. he disdain for grass and dirt. she likes to sleep on several blankets and watch television with her favorite human boy. she's regularly called princess. and she likes it. she also likes soft treats  and using all the steps to go both up and down. she is so alli.

Monday, May 28, 2018

Memorial


The hat was the crowning achievement of the whole ensemble. He wore a navy suit, a white dress shirt, and a red tie. But the hat. His mother tried to persuade him not to wear it. Yet it’s hard to reason with a seven-year-old. Especially when he loves the hat. Especially when it has his favorite player’s signature on it. Especially because it’s the hat his dad gave him right before he went off to Afghanistan. Veterans Day is to thank the living. Memorial Day is to remember those who have passed. His mother let him wear the baseball cap.

Sunday, May 27, 2018

Listen


There are some sounds that are the small graces of life. The crack of crème brûlée with the promise of rich sweetness just moments away. The rush of water over the falls, constant and peaceful and powerful all at once. The vibrato of a sustained note on the cello, strong and simple and so fragile. The laughter of the family as tears of joy begin to flow. The words “I love you” when I heard them for the first time coming out of your mouth, strangely comfortable and yet unfamiliar at the same time. Every sound since the cochlear implant.

Saturday, May 26, 2018

Chaos


It’s chaos out there. We cling to the skin of this earth, this ball of rock hurtling through space, protected by a thin layer of atmosphere. A pale lonely blue dot, surrounded by the deep cold dark of space, seemingly alone in the universe. No wonder we fight about imaginary lines that define our countries and we go to war because we don’t agree with what other people say. We are scared in our bones and so lonely, staring out into the stars, looking for answers and a friend. What a pity we miss hearing the stars sing His glory.

drabble day 26: trees

trees that grow in sand have certain qualities that other trees don't. there is the size for starters. they just don't get as big. the sort or insects maybe have something to do with the buds that bloom and when and how many all at once. trees that grow in sand grow slow. the water rushes through the sand when it rains, so the trees drink less, they don't soak. the live a sand life. harder, but slower. they crack. under the weight of winds. they hang on to each other. trees that grow in sand remind me of home.

drabble day 25: ad

the ad on the app i use to count my words up to one hundred is for Facebook. does facebook need to advertise? there is a picture of pusheen eating pizza with a smaller, fuzzier kitty whose name I don't know and don't feel motivated to look up. the little kitty is also eating pizza. the ad reads "Stay up to date with friends and family!" then the facebook logo and a green button that says "log in". i really don't think facebook need to advertise, although i enjoy seeing pusheen. he's so cute. but now i really want pizza.

drabble day 24: hanuted

oh, so you think it's haunted? why?

a rattling noise? when?

oh... the middle of the night?

oh no, four am? that's um...

yeah...

have you checked for possums?

yeah, i guess they could be living...

oh you did? you checked?

oh, you hired someone...

an exterminator? how much did that cost?

yikes!!

what about woodpeckers? they can make a lot of noise.

oh no, you're right. wrong time of day.

haunted though?

she what??

she died in the house? your house?

why the rattling noise though?

pregnant!? that's so sad!!

are you going to sell?

wait, why not?

... oh...

Friday, May 25, 2018

Toothbrush


The first time we were separated was the worst. Half of me gone to Washington DC on business, the other half of me at home. I kissed you extra special when you left, as if we could deposit it in our kissing bank and then withdraw it in the lonely dark. You called me to say good night and we said “I love you” a hundred times just in case the distance made it hard to hear. It’s easier now. But seeing just one toothbrush in the holder still makes me count down the minutes until I see you again.