Escape (Part 2)

I took a deep breath and started to roll the window down. Water began pouring in and the pressure became too strong to swim through. I exhaled as the water began filling up the truck. I swam to the back seats, where an air pocket was forming. When the pressure stabilized I took another breath and swam toward the open front window. I pulled myself through and watched as my truck slowly drifted to the bottom of the lake. Then my throat started burning and I realized I needed to hurry to the surface. My lungs were screaming for oxygen.

Escape (Part 1)

I was driving down the highway, when a large SUV happened to change lanes. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue but I was already occupying that lane. His vehicle smashed into mine, sending me into the guardrail on the edge of the bridge. I was soon made aware of the bridge repairs as the guardrail became a series of cones. My truck slid off the edge and into the lake. The impact of the water set off my airbag. Water began seeping in through all the door jams and the air vents. I was sinking fast. I needed to escape.

Time...

Last night was daylight savings. By changing our clocks we got the benefit of one extra hour. I was going to set my clocks before I went to bed so that when I awoke Everything would be precalibrated. It was then that I realized what would happen: I would use that extra hour for sleep. So instead I decided to wake up at a decent time the next morning and then set the clocks back an hour. I wanted to actually use that hour while I was awake. It was a good thing I did, it came in quite handy.

We Interupt This Program...

Consistently talking to everyone I have ever once talked to is draining on me. I don’t know how much energy I can put into this. I want to continue. I feel like a parent with a dozen kids. How can I possibly show everyone equally deserved attention without sacrificing my own well being? I know there aren’t many people on this journey, so I don’t expect anything from anyone, but being this one-sided is difficult. And there are still people I haven’t even connected with! I’m starting to feel defeated, like maybe Human Interaction wasn’t meant to be like this.

Transformation

He opened his mouth to scream but his jaw separated from the socket. His head tilted back. The skin around his mouth stretched and split, spraying a bloody mist into the bathroom. A hand emerged from his mouth; its long nails digging into his face. His throat became engorged as another hand burst forth. Both hands and arms pushed outward, tearing through his neck and shoulders. A head emerged from the gore. Its arms were swaying back and forth, dripping with blood. Its face was humanoid but haggard, deep red with a thousand scars. Endless torment awaited this new world.

Salvation

Heavy rain poured down from angry skies. Visibility was poor, but Cameron knew he must keep going. Painted on the wall of his previous shelter was: “Building 7A Clear out successful”. A puddle sent his motorcycle hydroplaning, causing him to lose control and slam into a parked car. Cameron reluctantly got up and shined his flashlight through the driver window. He immediately regretted this decision. So much blood… Trying not to vomit, he backed away. Behind another car, a shambling inhuman creature emerged. Cameron heard its insect-like jaws as it approached from behind. He didn’t even have time to scream.

Good Night

The crimson moon eclipsed the sky, bathing the field in scarlet. The air was hazy and moist. Two neglected children had run away from home and were lying on the grass, staring up at the red orb. A gust of wind caused a cascade of harvest leaves to fall over them, covering their faces, and their bodies. They didn’t seem to mind; their clothes were already dirty from running. As the temperature began to rise, crickets could be heard in the distance, playing, “Good night, good night” to the sleeping children. Elsewhere, a mother was crying into her husband’s shoulder.

Human Interaction ™

We have repressed ourselves into the digital realm. Instead of meaningful conversations, we send texts, tweets, status updates, forum posts, etc. When there is a story to tell, we post in our blogs. Now we don’t have to tell the story over and over again, but where is the magic, what happened to the artistry of oral storytelling? When I tried to remove myself from the technorabble, I found myself desperately alone. Is there no one else on a quest for Human Interaction ™? As easy as technology has made it to communicate, we are all losing sight of reality.

Fishing Lure

In honor of Myq Kaplan I will be writing this post in his unique style. Plus I know he Googles his own name constantly so I’m sure he’ll see this. Check out the link at the end of this post for his blog (won’t count toward my word count).

Kaplan.
Landfill.
Kaplandfill.

A place Myq throws out all the jokes that don’t read well. You won’t find any pages of his blog there!

Pumpkin.
Kindling.
Pumpkindling.

What happens when you don’t use a proper candle holder for your Jack-O-Lantern, or if some teenager throws the whole thing through your window.

http://godzillionaire.blogspot.com/

Winter Slalom

All too often James and I found ourselves in situations where one of us (usually me) almost dies. A good example of this was a winter driving accident. James was sliding around with his Geo Metro. Despite my pleas he managed a brake-slide around a sharp corner. The car careened into the woods and into a snow bank. Snow was piled higher than the windshield; the engine was filled. We were between two trees, blocking the doors, and close to a ravine. Once we climbed out the windows we had a good laugh and went to work freeing the car.

Nightmares, Revisited

Trying to run. Falling? Hiding under the covers but that is where the demons are. Hallucinations are too real. Heart racing. Uttering a scream, of which there seems no end. Claustrophobic collapse of space and time. Alive, dying, dead, awake. Cold sweat. Shaking as if in ice. Pillow absorbs the tears. Pain and anguish. Paralyzed. Spiders crawling everywhere as ghostly images dance on the walls. Is this real? Is this forever? Walking through a hallway that wasn’t there yesterday. Blood is dripping off the walls. This can’t be real, but why can’t I wake up. I scream into the night.

Introduction

As part of my goal to better myself, I wanted to start writing. Getting started is always the hardest part. A few months ago I was introduced to the idea of “100 words a day,” a writing exercise in which you write 100 words about any topic you like. It should be profound or entertaining, and should not be filled with fluff. I plan on doing this every morning, even if have to do it via phone. I am going to start tomorrow morning with authentic posts, but I figured I would keep the theme for this post as well.