Semi-Daily Scribbles
Carving out a corner to post random crap.
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Category: Time
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Maia examined the shiny face in the bathroom mirror. She didn't look like she thought she ought to on her first day of work. First day of work anywhere. Ever. Instead of a composed professional heading out the door, Maia saw a scared 14-year-old dressed up in clothes she stole from her mother's closet. A…
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Make up whatever narrativefits the occasionbe a leaderbe a followerbe controlled by: *fashion*popular opinion*the feel-goodswalk in the oppositedirection just topiss people offand then listento what they haveto say about … behaviorliesin thecrackthatseparatesdaydreamsanddone deeds.
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The only thing one can do is say yes and see where the open door leads. Max was certain success would find him once he'd hit one of those milestone birthdays (pick your favorite one–it doesn't matter), but his bank account remained an embarrassment. So puny! Where was the swimming pool filled with cash he'd…
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Chance is a mile marker on the road between birth and death. Chance really means Supposed To Happen. Events occur as we cruise along life's highway. Outcomes, though? Beautifully complex is the study of unpredictability! We each walk a path littered with opportunities, and existence is heavy on the questions. Missed anything? Got it right?…
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What you are meant to have will show up on your porch eventually. It may be festively beribboned. It may sit at the bottom of a grease-stained Wendy's sack. "It" is the opportunity you work on in the quiet moments of a busy day. Or, in spurts of activity that come with the full moon.…
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You are starting over and you're happy to do it. There is no time like that one time which should have passed in a jiffy but is in continuous playback mode. No change in sight. Pull loops tight on circuitous thoughts. Don't fear the plateau. It's a springboard into the unknown. And here's a complimentary…
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I am a visitor here. When will the walls start to talk? Lines must be down; a widespread outage. No wonder the stars are burning at 30%. With so little light to go by, the question remains: Will I grow feet or wings, and where would those things take me? I see the pit, the…
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A slash of weak sunlight fell across the trivet with the blue rooster. It served as a weight so the construction paper wouldn't fly off the kitchen counter. In black ink Maia printed for the kids' sake, and used the words reminiscent, introspection, distaste, and exemplifies in her note. She wrote the date and time…
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She doesn't think I see her, but I do. Oh, I do. The ramshackle lady in flimsy pink flip-flops is a ghost. Is a ghost. We all haunt the places we miss the most. Even when the body is bound up by the present day, the spirit struggles to have its way. It asks: "Is…
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Just when I say I'll get a new lens to look through (in the hopes of seeing something new) a bird (a big one with a 6-foot wingspan) swoops out of nowhere (o.k. – swoops down from the snag I walk by every a.m.) and squawks in my face: "It's like this, little chicken;…
Semi-Daily Scribbles 