On now to our quick Trifextra challenge.
In The Scorpio Races,
author Maggie Stiefvater writes, “It is the first day of November and so, today, someone will die.” Give us the next thirty-three words of this story, as you imagine it. Take it wherever you like, but make it original and make it 33 words exactly.
~
The words echoed as she hovered near him, her warm hand on top of his chilled skin. He would never come out of the coma. The monitor flat-lined and he was at peace.
There are not many things that truly scare me but wind storms are one of the furies of Mother Nature that greatly unsettle me. It doesn’t help matters that my house is nestled amidst numerous very tall trees.
We had a doozy of a storm last night and the wind is still raging, pushing the rain sideways across the landscape.
In the wee hours of this morning a large branch came down on the wires attached to the post that holds the power connection directly feeding my hydro supply. That post now hangs precariously at a 45 degree angle – still barely attached to its mooring. The most disturbing part of this situation is that the power is now back on.
![IMG_0969[1]](https://polysyllabicprofundities.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/img_09691.jpg)
I am currently sitting in my car waiting for the cavalry to ride in on their white trucks and rectify the dangerous situation my house is in. With a live power supply – those wires could spark any time. I am staked out at the end of the driveway watching for any sparks – poised to dial 9-11 if the need arises an my dog is safely snuggled in the back seat.
Fingers crossed they arrive soon!
It was a collaboration week for me last week and this time I put some words together with TwinDaddy from Stuphblog. I’m sure you all know him and if you don’t, you are missing out!! Take a few minutes to check out his diversity and genuine talent. Here is what we came up with.
Journey back to me
I put you up there
not knowing that you would fall.
The pulse of the rain matched my heart beat
as I watched you tumble from that pedestal I put you on.
When our love ended, you had further to fall.
My illusion of you faded.
Your ruse succumbed to reality
as softly as a leaf falls from its tree.
That pedestal floated gently to the ground
when at last you unveiled your true self.
Although my heart was shattered,
it was easier for me to pick up the discarded pieces.
I recognized those parts of myself that I lost,
eviscerated pieces of my soul that you took.
I could finally begin to rebuild the person I was.
Piece by piece, brick by brick,
a new masterpiece painfully crafted.
A new me, a stronger me
able to withstand torrential emotions,
lithe enough to dodge abusive traps.
Your journey was a plunge to the death of the disguise.
My path was a quest to rebuild what was taken.
I emerge stronger, my scars will heal.
I take back what was rightfully mine.
I put myself up on that pedestal.
“What will Heaven be like?” Her youthful eyes looked to him for answers.
His breathing tubes got in the way when he tried to speak to her. “You know when you see a really dark rain cloud and most of it is black?”
She nodded her agreement.
“Well, Heaven will be like those glorious slices of silver light that radiate around the cloud. Those little pieces of light give everyone hope for something better.”
She curled up under her Grandfather’s arm and held him as closed his eyes. She knew he was on his way to find that silver light.
Written for the 100-Word Challenge over at Julia’s Place. Photo credit is all my own.
My fingers hover over the keyboard. I can’t remember why. I look at unfamiliar walls. If I was meant to type my name they will be sorely disappointed. I don’t know that either.
~
Written for the Trifextra Weekend Challenge – I am terrified of losing the ability to coax words and memories from my brain. Alzheimer’s Disease scares me to death.
(On now to our quick little Trifextra prompt. Katherine Paterson, author of Bridge to Terabithia, wrote, “It’s like the smarter you are, the more
things can scare you.” We are looking for a 33-word explanation of what scares
you (or your character). We already know you’re intelligent, so, according to
Paterson, you should have no shortage of potential subject matter.)
(image credit: wiserusability.com)
I will apply dietetic measures for the benefit of the sick according to my ability and judgment; I will keep them from harm and injustice. ~excerpt from the Hippocratic Oath
***
Danny Jenkins could not shield his discomfort. Lying on the gurney in the hospital hallway was exacerbating, even more so considering the paper-thin sheet was barely enough to disguise his torso from the sight line of people passing by. His Intravenous line had almost been yanked out of his skin several times as crash carts and trauma teams raced to the Emergency room. He was living in his own personal Hell.
Danny hated hospitals. The mere fact that he agreed to this procedure was beyond his realm of comprehension but it was time to face reality. At his last weigh in he had tipped the scales at 468 pounds and it was time to get his life back. His doctor had pleaded with him to consider Gastric Bypass surgery and he knew it was the only way to forge ahead into the life he dreamed for himself.
After what seemed like an eternity, Danny was wheeled from the hallway into the operating room. Faceless doctors and nurses shrouded by masks performed their macabre pre-surgery dance around him as monitors came to life and created a sinister orchestra of metallic sounds. Voices abraded his ears as they went step by step through the procedure that was about to take place but Danny paid no attention. He didn’t care. He just wanted to go to sleep and wake up to his new beginning. A warm sensation began to flood his veins and Danny slowly slipped into a reversible loss of consciousness.
***
He could hear the pinging of the machines as his eyelids fluttered open and the recovery room slowly swam into focus. He anticipated mild to moderate discomfort in his abdominal cavity but he felt none. The anesthesia must have been a more potent cocktail than he imagined. He tried to adjust his position on the bed, fully expecting his stomach to refuse any agitation, and the movement was somewhat fluid and manageable. Strangely, there was no soreness at all.
The call button hung lifelessly on the bed rail and he repeatedly pushed the button until a nurse entered the room. Before even engaging Danny in post-surgery banter she glanced at his hospital wrist-band, diligently checked all of the monitors and made notes in the chart that hung from the foot of his bed. She lifted the bedding from the bottom of the bed, inexplicably checked his legs and tenderly replaced the covers.
“How are you feeling?”, she finally asked.
Danny spoke through his dry mouth, “I thought this would feel much worse.”
Her response baffled him. “You will think you can feel your toes for a while. They call it phantom pain.”
His look of complete bewilderment took her by surprise. She guessed his silence was just his way of processing his loss. She regarded the monitors one more time before leaving with the promise of returning with ice chips.
As the anesthesia began to clear his system he began to feel the after effects of the four-hour surgical procedure. He could feel the dull ache beginning to throb but the pain was coming from his knee. More than slightly disconcerted he reached for the call button once again. This time a doctor entered and performed the same ritual with the monitors before beginning his communication. Immersed in the chart in front of him, he absently began to speak.
“Okay Ms. Jenkins. The procedure went extremely well and the lower part of your right leg was successfully amputated. You will feel some discomfort but you have the ability to give yourself a dose of morphine……”. His voice trailed off as he lifted his head and his vision of the patient in front of him finally swam into focus. He looked directly at Danny and immediately re-examined the chart in front of him. The doctor said nothing more.
Danny finally spoke, “Did you just call me ‘Miss’ Jenkins?”
“Would you excuse me for just a moment?”, the doctor’s words were rushed as he left the room. Danny incessantly pushed the call button with no response.
The doctor’s footsteps echoed through the hallway as he raced to the operating room. As he pushed the doors open and entered the sterile room all eyes turned and fell heavily upon him. Ms. Dani Jenkins lay sedated and poised for Gastric Bypass surgery. Not one medical practitioner had commented on the unnecessary procedure but merely followed the direction on the chart – the wrong chart.
His words reverberated in the surgical chamber, “Look very closely at that medical chart. You were about to make the second biggest mistake in the history of this hospital.”
His eyes had sinister charm and I was drawn to him. He was precisely my type. I was pleased to meet him but he would be like the others. No names were exchanged.
***
Written for the Trifextra weekend challenge –
Add your link here!
– See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.9qsmxueq.dpuf
This post was inspired by this post. Thanks Guap for getting the wheels turning again!
“Life begins at the end of your comfort zone” ~ Neale Donald Walsch
Risk and reward. Two words that represent how life really begins when you take that chance and step off the ledge of your comfort zone. Life in a safety bubble is just that, safe. No adventure tale every begins with the lead character being stuck in the confines of their comfort zone. With risk comes adventure and the potential for really harnessing an energy that you never knew existed.
We create and shape our comfort zone for a reason. It brings us the solace that we crave. But frequent trips outside of that comfort zone can open up a world of possibilities and give us a sense of freedom. It can allow us the opportunity to perceive things about ourselves that we never would have otherwise discovered. And it doesn’t have to begin with a great leap of faith. Small changes in our routine can lead to a monumental swing in our level of acceptance and can eventually increase the size of our comfort zone.
It is a given that stepping out of that comfort zone will lead to some anxiety and discomfort but the small pains we face to grow our experience will be well worth the gains we appreciate on the other side of the journey. We need to re-wire the built-in mechanism that regulates our level of apprehension when it comes to trying something new.
Change is frightening but change is also cathartic. Real personal growth can only occur if we allow ourselves the opportunity to expand our horizons, to go beyond the constraints with which we bind ourselves. Reaching beyond that level of comfort will allow us the chance to gain more confidence and gain a sense of power from our attempt to evolve.
Take that first step towards the ledge, and then take another. Slowly you will gain the confidence and know that the precipice that faces you is not as daunting as you first thought. The fear that you embrace can only hold you back from finding out what awaits you once you take that plunge. Perhaps the thing that scared you the most will hold the key to you truly feeling like you can conquer the world.
Intuition is a perplexing thing. Our body is a natural conduit for energy and that energy has an odd but effective way of giving us warning signs that danger is lurking. The witches in Macbeth described the feeling as a pricking in their thumbs. We may feel it when the hair on the nape of our neck stands at attention but the premise is the same. Our gut is sending a message that our brain cannot ignore.
Usually we can’t understand the visceral reaction to a certain circumstance but we have to put our faith in its validity. That little voice gets very vocal when it feels imminent danger and usually that voice is spot on. Everyone is born with the gift of intuition but it is how we heed the wisdom of that instinctive feeling that is of great benefit to us.
That moment when something wicked does actually come may be completely averted by listening to those nagging doubts in our mind. Those doubts exist for a reason. There is a power far beyond some people’s belief or comfort level that aids in our self-preservation. That terse glance over our shoulder, the quickening of our step while walking in the dark – both may feel cryptic and unnecessary but listening to those pestering whispers may help us avoid an uncomfortable situation.
That intuition may also have altruistic applications. The stirring in our senses does not always represent peril but could also put us on the path to good fortune. The Yin and Yang of those intuitive forces can also help us make decisions for our benefit and not just our physical longevity. Our lives are based on choices and that same power of perception can guide us through those choices and help us discover the best path for our journey.
My thumbs do not become prickly, nor does the hair stand up on my neck. I get goosebumps, and that chicken skin that was once my flesh has never steered me wrong. Hopefully when something wicked this way really does come, I will be the human version of Foghorn Leghorn, plucked and covered with a road map of goose-flesh to guide me to safety.
There are not many mornings that happened so many years ago that I can remember with such crystal clarity, but September 11, 2001 is certainly one of those days. If I close my eyes I can see what I was wearing to work that day as I lay on the office floor watching the horrific events of that day unfold. Even from our homes and offices north of the U.S. border, we all felt stripped of the safety in which we had become so accustomed. The world most definitely changed that day.
Horrors I can only imagine happened to so many people and took so many lives. In those days and nights that followed, during times of grieving or times of uncertainty, not knowing the fate of so many trapped in a nightmare, there was a sliver of light. A bright beam of humanity kept glowing light through the darkness of terrorism. Strangers became saviors, neighbors became friends and the hearts of the world ached for those afflicted with so much pain. Thousands of hands reached out to help and to salvage some faith in the goodness of people.
Although darkness lurks in the shadows of reality, I like to look for the light. When tragedy happens, I try to see the goodness in the people who rush to help. On that fateful day in September 2011, amidst the darkness and chaos, that light never failed to shine.
My prayers go out to all of the families and friends who lost loved ones. I can only hope you can still see their lights shining.
polysyllabic profundities 