The thermometer beeps cruelly.
98.9 degrees fahrenheit.
The threshold has been crossed.
I have been struck down in the bloom of my late youth.
Archives (page 3 of 4)
I hate being sick, but I find myself being sick constantly. Okay, not constantly, but whole months of my year might disappear going from a cold to a sinus infection to the flu.
Not to mention the rare days when my intestines decide they need to be forcibly kickstarted or else I’ll face constant abdomen pain.
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I was recently reading an article about an online class from Neil Gaiman. And the article writer mentioned a piece of advice Gaiman gave.
Gaiman said he was advised to write his short stories as if they were each the final chapter in a novel.
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The bright light started to fade and Mike blinked his eyes for the first time. A middle-aged man dressed in business casual sat across the desk from him. The rest of the room was empty except for a plastic plant in the corner.
“Welcome to Haven! Happy birthday, nice to meet you, happy first day on the job, etc,” the man said. “I’m Ralph. I’ll be your supervisor.”
Ralph stretched out his hand and smiled. Mike blinked again and then remembered he should probably shake his new boss’s hand.
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Jonny Fairbanks, toddler and tyrant of the Fairbanks family, has declared a household emergency over the kitchen cookie jar.
By fiat, all cookies are to be removed from the jar and placed at an easily reachable height for a toddler.
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Today, the first trailer for Frozen 2 has been released. In it, you can see a mountain of ice and snow grow taller and taller while the sung phrase “Let it go” is repeated over and over again in a crescendo until it’s practically being screamed.
As the camera climbs to the top of the mountain, the music stops and the screen goes black. Elsa then lights herself up with ice magic at the summit and whispers, “Where is your God now?” before Fall Release flashes across the screen.
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Every day, I scatter myself across the feelings of the hundreds
That line my feed, story, and favorite websites.
I sink into their lives and their frustration and their joy.
I dwell between hot deals and breaking news.
And I scroll.
And scroll.
And scroll.
And scroll.
Today, Dan Carls, a 34 old man from Nebraska has sworn after coming into the office late this morning that next year’s Super Bowl will not be as disappointing as this year’s.
Without being able to control the teams there, the scores, or even the commercials, Carls has decided that he will at least eat double the amount of chicken wings next year.
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If I tell you a story, can you retell it to someone else? What if you act like it’s yours and add your own embellishments? What if I had charged you $5 for my story and now you’re charging $10? How about if I told it to you 15 years ago? Do all the answers change if the story involves Superman?
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Written in 2017
New Year, New Era
Where in all these stars
Will you plant your soul?
Where will you take nourishment?
Where will you learn to grow?