{little helperes} 5.2.12

Saturday I dragged myself out of bed at the scandalous hour of 7 o'clock. I dragged myself to the shower. I dragged myself to work. The beginning of the day was crazy-breakfast rush, but later the afternoon was relatively quiet. Then, towards the middle of my shift, as I washed the front (glass) door I noticed a young family coming toward me. I opened the door for them and as one of the young boys passed through he very eagerly asked me, “Would you like some imaginary reindeer to help you with your job?”  

“I would love some!”

Project Backfire

A knock on the oak door timidly encroached into the quiet, carpeted, and very well-furnished study space of Laurence McGreen. He cleared his throat loudly and said with resounding luster, "Come in."

A human form, short, thin, and dressed in white, walked in carrying a manilla envelope. "Sir?"

"Well, bring it at once!" McGreen's voice grew with his thrill of power. The small figure ventured forward and gave it away.

After some time, Alex spoke up. "Sir, we gave it a name."

"Oh?" McGreen barely looked at Alex.

Alex's eyes were aflame, teeth clenched, tongue forced silent by industry. "Project Backfire."

Mountains - by Christan Tracy - Day 1

[Note: This is by my little sister]

            Mountains float above the ground like birds upon the wind. Mountains are as white as clouds, which drift up in the sky. Mountains are as big as a human to an ant. Mountains are heavier than any human knows. Heavier then any person in the world could lift. Mountains are the work of God that no human can grasp. His work is so almighty, so glorious, it’s more then we could know. The handy work of the LORD has made the world in all its beauty. He has made the stars, the Earth, the sun, the moon, and the heavens.  

The Beginning, May 2

He pushed through the snow, growing more tired with every step. He looked back to see the snake like path he had made vanish in a flurry of snow. So tired, he just wanted to sleep. To rest and just give up. He shivered as another gust chilled him to the bone. Shaking, and pulling the ragged jacket closer around his shoulders, he marched on. On and on he went, the only change in the landscape being different sized snow hills. He fell face first into the snow. What he saw caused an even colder feeling to permeate his being.

5.2.12 Brother

It wasn’t all that long ago, brother, when we promised undying friendship.  I thought that being there for you was all I ever wanted.  To watch you grow up, choose a bride, build a home.  I’d never be too far away, never leave you to walk this road alone. And everything I did was always for your good. All my life I’ve loved you, protected you, fought for you.

Brother, I would have died for you.

But you changed.  So did I.

Now you lie before me with a bullet in your chest. 

The gun still smoking in my hand.

White stone (for 5.1.12)

“The white rocks are my favorite.” She states, as we walk around the side of her house on a “wishing stone” hunt.

“Why’s that?”

“Because they are so pretty and bright once you rinse the dirt off.”

“Yah, I guess the white ones are my favorite, too.”

And as I look at her glowing face I think, “Someday, Sami, you will have another white rock that you will call beautiful, another rock that you can’t help but steal glances at. Someday you will have a diamond ring that shows how much he loves you. Someday, but not for a while.

{a flaming ball of plasma} 5.2.12

The sun rises and falls, its brilliant rays illuminating the earth and warming the ground.Then, quicker than it rose, it falls, and appears on the other side of the planet. Since the beginning of time the sun has risen and fallen, day after day, night after night it hides.

Without the sun the earth would be cold. Without the sun we couldn't see anything. Without the sun, this earth would be black. And cold. I think I’d get awful awful tired if that rested on my shoulders. I also think, if that was my job, I’d probably leave the earth cold and black a lot.  

Ice

 Breath shouldn't be cold. Hers fell like ice shards and the words she spoke stabbed at his heart in an equally frozen form.
        "I just wanted you to remember." One finger, bone cold and thin, touched his ear gently. "When your world is crumbling around you, when those you love begin to die, when they look at you with hate-wide eyes, whisper and scream that they want nothing to do with you, when nothing you love is whole, when you look around and grasp the absolute of the destruction that reigns around you, just remember; this is your fault."

A Running Rebellion

At first, his pace was slow and measured. A woven layer of roots, rocks, and rotting leaves, flowed past his gaze, reminding of the 20, forever corrupted. He searched the horizon, and found the setting sun. His eyes, wet with forming tears, glinted with every movement. His entire frame cried out to be used, so he bolted towards the light, dodging trees, and jumping boulders. He screamed. His arms danced to maintain pristine balance. Every ounce of energy was exhaled into into the world, out of every arm and leg and lung, travelling far and wide into the world unseen.

Judas Body

I couldn’t walk this morning when I woke up. Again.

I put my feet on the floor next to my bed and tried. But the muscles were so tight. And the pain was so severe. My dental hygienist looks at my teeth every six months. Tells me that I grind my teeth at night. Maybe I do. But I mostly grind them when I’m trying to walk. When I’m grabbing at the walls and my desk chair in a desperate attempt to keep moving. As if clenching my molars will give my legs strength.

My body has betrayed me. Again.

{drabbling relfections} 5.1.12

These meager 100 words hold much potential. There is power locked in the form of words. And yet, just like everything else they need a beginning. There has to be a start- a sound, a syllable, a word; there has to be a creator. But once created these stories reflect their creators- in every one there is a bit of their personality- a portion of the writer. Could this be why they are so thrilling to compose-because they reflect our story? We, too are created and reflect our Creator, we too hold potential.

It makes sense, then that

                                              we

                                                           should

                                                                               write.

5.1.12 Tell me...

Where have all the children gone?

They’ve followed the piper and his idiotic tune.

Why is the table not set out for supper?

That is the folly of the cow and the spoon.

Why is the dog wearing a coat and shoes?

The stupid old lady’s cupboards were bare.

Why does it rain like the world is ending?

Because the spider is lost and he doesn’t know where.

Whose are these guts all scattered about?

That is the weasel who fled for his life.

Why are there seeds all over the floor?

Those are from Peter who imprisoned his wife.

::drabbler. {5.1.12)

Drabbles are possibly my favorite form of writing. Like, ever. It’s such a challenge to capture an emotion in 100 words, yet somehow, the people on here, never fail to do. I can't even scratch the talent that people put forth on here. Nonetheless, I woke up this morning ecstatic. Today is one of my favoritest days ever. Can you guess why? Nope, I bet you’ll never guess. Alright, so heres why: today is a very important day. today marks the 2nd anniversary of the start of DrabDayMoMay and to say I’m happy about it starting up again is an understatement.
Onward and upward drabblers.

Drabbles! 5-1-2012

Drabbles! Drabbles! It is the month of drabbles! And the month of moving! And the month of ending school for the summer! And more drabbles! I am so excited. This shall be a glorious month, it shall be full of writing adventures, of writing adventures with friends, of just adventures with friends! This is the first day of this month, this is the first drabble of the month! On this same day we are buying a house! And painting a room! This day always excites me, makes me unequivocally happy! This day…! - my rabbit just pee’d on my bed…  Terrific. 

DrabDayMoMay 2012

Hello hello all! Today is May 1. You know what that means. Welcome to DrabDayMoMay 2012!! Get your pencils and papers (or keyboards and typing fingers)!! On your marks! Get set!! DRABBLE!! Also, check out the Facebook page - http://www.facebook.com/DrabDayMoMay. Updates will be posted there as well.