So I haven't been able to sit down and write as much as I'd like to, with the addition of this new job that keeps me between 10 and 11 hours a day. I'm not going to complain about actually HAVING A JOB but only about having roughly an hour to myself (after I finish daily chores and make food, etc) is not ideal. I'm backing up, metaphorically speaking, with ideas that will never see the light of day because...well I literally drive to work in the dark and drive home from work in the dark. For those keeping track, yes that was me explaining a metaphor with the perfect example. I'm also terribly exhausted right now and words are sounding delicious in my head.
Okay so to the point of why I started writing, yes! I am about to tell you what happened to me the other day, in the hopes of connecting. Sharing a bond with you the reader. Going for frozen yogurt and laughing over my crushed candy choices together under an umbrella (that has a massive runny trail of bird poopie).
It goes like this. So I was at Lowe's for supplies the other day. My ass itched, so I itched it. When I did this, the itch got worse! Has that ever happened to you? Scratch an inch, only for that itch to grow in intensity? It was on the cheek. Nothing gross, like the thought of me digging way up there and then shaking the guy's hand who helped me load up everything, who in turn shook the hand of another man and before you know it....well you know it, so I don't need to tell you. You're a big boy/girl.
I walked up and down the isles. I must have scratched that same damn spot 10 times. Anyone else might over exaggerate and say 100 times. Not me! Each time it felt like I relieved the itchy feeling for approximately .0000005 seconds before it came back. Whatever...my ass itched.
HA HA these are the things that I have been holding to myself. OMG aren't you so lucky I shared this garbage with you? Well let's be honest...you are still reading. So who does that make the joke on? YOU KNOW WHAT! No one is the joke on. If the joke was a switch on a railroad track, it would be flipped no where. It would be dangling in the middle and desperate to connect with one side or the other. Yearning to be either on or off. Not today it won't not be not on but not off. I think I did that negative thing correct there.
I will leave you with a piece of flash fiction I'm going to spontaneously write...after I use the restroom.
Okay I'm back. LET'S DO THIS!
When the trail could go no further he stopped and sat at the edge of an overhang. Down in the valleys of green, the landscape maintained the illusion of crawling forward as he had only experienced on this trail of the High Divide. To the North East was Mt. Larrabee and directly East was Winchester Mountain. Beyond that, the cutouts of endless mountain ranges, each a little taller, greedily positioned themselves to get closer to the blue of an afternoon Spring sky. He was positioned in a tree limb that stretched out over a tall vertical cliff. He had crawled out to be in the breeze and to avoid the biting flies. In a day dream he thought about how perfect it would be to let go. After all, he had hiked alone and didn't leave a note about where he was headed. It would be several hundred feet of weightlessness down to a cropping of uneven boulders that had no visible connecting trail. It began to sound romantic in his head and he fantasized about the fall and hard smashing; the amount of time passing before someone stumbled upon his body; the acknowledgment that it was done out of pleasure; how it was his decision to make that could not be undone.
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