"Except Me"_Remembering a stranger_A New Tradition_Daisy's Dinner
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"Except Me"
Broken window. What did it mean? In a dream it means stress, and anxiety. In real life, sometimes it's due to that ball you weren’t allowed to play with inside. Or a crime. A broken window can mean a lot of things. Most people witness a broken window. They see a broken window. They watch a window get broken. But nobody’s ever been one. Except me. A broken window I am. I used to reflect people. I see one person setting a trend and the next second I'm a part of that trend too. I see a purple handbag and the next second I have one. I’ve always been something of a product of everyone else. If you'...
Remembering a stranger
The cold stung my nose and cracked my skin, though I don't mind. I have come to enjoy the coldness that January brings. www.onedoor.ccIt adds a pleasant tingle and isn't as irritating as summer, especially the sweat and humidity. I dug my chin further into my scarf, reveling in its warmth, the cup of coffee's heat leaked into my hands. Smuggled into warmth on a cold morning is one of winter’s finest bliss. I walked down the street to my work, thankfully it was a walking mile away from my house. The world was drenched in gray tone with clouds camouflaging the sky. The coffee shop’s little bell announced my ...
A New Tradition
Hour 1: I’ve started a journal to mark the progress of our First Ever Hopefully Annual Summer Solstice Road Trip. Meg thinks I’m a control freak when it comes to recording things, but I just want to remember what good times we had. So there. Hour 2: Sleepy.Hour 3: Janis has already broken into our snacks. This is going to be a long trip.Hour 4: Everyone is starving. Seriously, each and every person in this van. Meg is getting really cranky, like she always does when some magazine makes her think it’s sexy to starve herself. I worry about that girl sometimes. She’s yelling at Janis right now fo...
Daisy's Dinner
His hand shook slightly as he reached up onto the shelf for the pot. It sat on the same shelf for the last thirteen years; the whole time Daisy had been living with him. This old pot, with its missing paint and one broken handle had cooked their dinners every single night. The food may have varied some, but the vessel remained the same. He filled the pot with water and placed it on the stove to boil.Chop, chop chop. His knife cut through the chicken breasts with ease. He trimmed off the fat and pieces of gristle because he knew she struggled to chew some things. The scraps he fed to th...