The Prisoner - Short Story

I grabbed the lamp by its base and snatched it from the desk, hurling it away from me. I paused for an unsatisfied moment when the lamp crashed to the floor and shattered to pieces. Resisting the urge to throw something else, I listened to my breathing; it was coming in short, quick, labored sets. My eyes focused on nothing as I began heedlessly pacing back and forth over the shards. I did not feel the broken glass scraping against the tender skin of my feet anyway. I could not keep up with my thoughts. They were coming too fast, too quickly.

I knew what they thought of me. I suddenly realized that I was acting exactly how they thought I should. Stop it, I commanded myself. Don’t let them win. You can’t let them be right about you. But maybe they are right. Maybe everything they say about you is true after all. You’re sure not doing anything to prove them wrong, I told myself. If anything, you’re validating their point.

“Is everything alright in there?” Mother called, suddenly interrupting my thoughts.

“Yeah, everything is just fine!” I replied as cheerfully as I could manage.

But that was the problem. Everything was NOT fine. It was funny that the word “fine” in my world meant depressed, angry, confused, upset, sad, bitter, lonely, lost… anything but “fine.”

With an unsteady hand, I reached for the dented plastic cup on my nightstand and took a long, slow drink of the stale water. I can’t take it anymore. I turned and stared into the mirror. Looking long and hard at my reflection, I knew. I could tell by the dark circles under my wild eyes, by the gaunt creature with the slumped shoulders and the untamed hair that stared back at me. I just knew. They were right all along.

The Battle At Verdun - A Short Story

(I wrote this piece some time in 2003, and it is largely based off an experience I had at the monument for the Battle of Verdun (Northern France). I would call it a work of fiction... except the only part that is fiction is the very end of it with the final comment... Questions? You'll just have to ask me more if you're curious.) >:-) Hope you enjoy!

She leafed through the pamphlets, almost absently. Small snippets of English here and there stuck in her mind: “The Battle at Verdun…” and “The soldiers who were killed…”

The gift shop held no appeal for her. Glancing at the nearest group of her traveling companions, she slipped outside without being noticed by the amused teenagers.

‘This sucks,’ she thought, heading up the path to the parking lot. Everything had gone wrong for her that morning for mere starters. Besides that, the reality of the fact that this month long tour of Europe with a group of French speaking students from a small Utah community she was on would come to an end all too soon for her. That reality was crashing down around her much too fast and much too soon. Life back at home was nothing she wanted to rush back to.

Suddenly, she noticed the long haired man in tight leathers snuffing out a cigarette with the heel of his boot just ahead of her. It was right then that he turned around and smiled at her.

Her immediate reaction was to smile back. Why? She didn’t know. Everything from her religious upbringing and quiet home town customs should have been sending frightened thoughts and red flags through her mind at the sight of this man and his entire appearance that so clashed with the culture she had been raised with. Brushing her hair over the shoulder of her suede coat, she silently reprimanded herself. ‘Mr. Burnah said to stay with the group and never talk to strangers.’

The man stepped into pace with her as she walked past him. “Did you come in on the coach?” He had no distinct accent, but he looked like an American.

“Well, the bus,” she corrected, pointing to the large Briam Socha parked across the way. She kept the exchange civil. She had no reason to be eagerly talking to him though she was struggling to repress her curiosity at why he even had the audacity to strike up a conversation with her in the first place. Was this normal for complete strangers to start talking with each other and asking so many questions at foreign war monuments in European countries? Wasn’t it usually a “Take picture?” in broken English and then a ‘one-two-three-snap-click-snap’ and on your way kind of deal?

He nodded in response to her short answer. “Are you from America or Canada?”

“America,” she responded shortly, letting her thoughts wander. ‘I shouldn’t be talking to this guy. What would Mr. Burnah say if he saw? But he is so friendly…’ she argued with herself. ‘And he’s really attractive.’

“I’m Dan,” he said.

“I’m Jen,” she replied, smiling.

“Nice to meet you, Jen.” A corner of his mouth quirked upwards. “Do you want to meet the rest of my gang? And maybe check out my motorcycle?” he asked, motioning towards a group of a dozen or so motorcycles with several leather-clad riders lounging around them.

She allowed herself a brief moment to consult with reason, battling her inner-self with the idea of whether to stay and do as she had been told—stay with the group and stop talking to this ‘stranger,’ or go with Dan, this mysterious man with the motorcycle and perhaps get a glimpse of the unknown, the world beyond what she knew. The unknown holds a lot of fear and danger. But perhaps the unknown it is power and freedom from fear. The battle waged on, reason and sense and rationale screaming inside of her to listen, but ultimately she rejected its advice. “I’d love to,” she replied.

Dan gave her a captivating smile with her response and offered her his elbow as she looped her hand inside and let him escort her across the monument grounds towards his group of friends and motorcycles.

Shortly thereafter, Dan and his gang left Verdun with one more member than they had come with. Jen turned and watched, knowing this would change everything, as the Briam Socha got smaller and smaller, her belongings still sitting in the storage compartments beneath it. Finally, it disappeared behind the rounded monument with its sprawling field of crisp, white crosses.

Children's Books That Never Made The Cut...

I found this list online (Thanks Cortland), and some of these made me laugh so hard I just HAD to share it. My favorite is #8.

Children's Books That Never Made The Cut:
1. You Are Different and That's Bad
2. The Boy Who Died From Eating All His Vegetables
3. Dad's New Wife Scott
4. Fun Four-Letter Words to Know and Share
5. Hammers, Screwdrivers, and Scissors: And I-Can-Do-It Book
6. The Kids' Guide to Hitchhiking
7. Kathy Was So Bad Her Mom Stopped Loving Her
8. Curious George and the High-Voltage Fence
9. All Cats Go to Hell
10. The Little Sissy Who Snitched
11. Some Kittens Can Fly
12. That's It, I'm Putting You Up For Adoption
13. Grandpa Gets a Casket
14. The Magic World Inside the Abandoned Refrigerator
15. Garfield Gets Feline Leukemia
16. The Pop-Up Book of Human Anatomy
17. Strangers Have the Best Candy
18. Whining, Kicking, and Crying to Get Your Way
19. You Were An Accident
20. Things Rich Kids Have, But You Never Will
21. Pop! Goes the Hamster and Other Great Microwave Games
22. The Man in the Moon is Actually Satan
23. Your Nightmares Are Real
24. Where Would You Like to Be Buried?
25. Eggs, Toilet Paper, and Your School
26. Why Can't Mr. Fork and Ms. Electrical Outlet Be Friends?
27. Places Where Mommy and Daddy Hide Neat Things

Rubik's Cube

It was February 9, 2004. I had gone in to the imaging center to get a spinal tap AND a brain MRI with contrast all on the same day. I figured if I was already gonna be there for one thing, so I scheduled the other the same day... two birds with one stone kind of thing. Well after the spinal tap, I had to lay FLAT on my back for AT LEAST 24 hours... no getting up to fix myself some food, no propping myself into a sitting position to read or watch movies... FLAT ON MY BACK STARING AT THE CEILING (or trying to look over my chest to see a TV on a dresser across the room). I was hesitantly told by the doctor that going to the bathroom was OK... but not to be up too long and to make it quick and to do NOTHING ELSE besides that bit of business!!! *rolling eyes*

Like the awesome friends that they are, I had a group of guys who accompanied me to the imaging center and who also brought me food and pretty much took care of me for the next week while I was bed-ridden after getting this spinal tap (apparently, even spending 26 hours flat on my back, the thing didn't heal right so spinal fluid was still leaking into my body which is bad. That required me to get a blood patch two days later, which required additional days of lying flat on my back and resulting in about a week's worth of spinal headaches... much worse than normal ones). One of these guys, AG, decided to teach me how to solve the Rubik's Cube. He even brought it to the imaging center so between the spinal tap and the brain MRI, I was learning tricks and moves and special secrets to solving the Rubik's cube. Whenever I had a chance over the next week, I was playing with it, twisting it around, making sure I remembered the moves. If I solved it, I'd hand it over to one of the guys and they would scramble it up for me and I'd go at it again.

I was seriously ADDICTED. I suppose there are worse things, eh?

Pretty soon, we were having Rubik's Cube solving contests--seeing who could solve their cube the fastest. I got pretty good, despite my disabled condition. Puzzles and stuff like this has always captured my attention.

So... that is the 2 cent version of how I learned to solve the Rubik's Cube--upside down while lying flat on my back. Thanks AG. =)

Guardian Angels

I like to believe that everyone has guardian angels. Maybe one or two… Maybe three or four. Hey—you’ve gotta admit it… some of us need more protecting than others! And I’m gonna admit that I tend to fall under the Needs-More-Protecting-Than-Most category.

So I'm going to tell you what I told someone else once: [ I think everyone has a hand-full of “guardian angels” in this world that they mistake as “friends” who have been put in their life for a reason. ] I said that because that person is one of my constantly butt-saving little guardian angels. *smiles*

I thought I’d share this idea with all of you guys who might be reading my blog just because I think everyone should take a minute and try to remember who your guardian angels are. Who saved YOUR life? Who pulled you off the floor when you didn’t have the strength to do it yourself? Who is always there to listen to you when there is nobody else? Who do you count as your hero? Who is your best friend? Who is your role model? These people are probably your guardian angels… whether they know it or not, and whether you've ever thought about it before now or not. So take an extra minute and think about them. Maybe it’s about time you let them know they’re your hero, or Guardian Angel. Life is too short to let an opportunity pass you by, so just take a minute and say “Thanks for being there for me.” You never know when you’ll run out of chances to say it.