serieve
They pulled into port, greeted by a woman resembling the White Witch, and my sister and her husband got off last. From the ceiling hung odd silver rods that reflected light, though I couldn't tell where the light was coming from.
The Phantom Tollbooth contains a section where the main character comes across a small, eccentric conductor as he is about to conduct the dawn, and I will always remember that the oboe was yellow. Encouraging a sort of synesthesia, I search now for colors in the sounds that I hear, particularly as I play the in the Wind Ensemble.
The thieves were young, wearing baggy clothes, and cocky. They stole the equipment in broad daylight while talking to us--the people they were stealing from--and when they took off, we shouted, and no one expected it. We hunted across campus for them. The President found one couple who had seen the thieves in Elmo pajamas, and noticing their suspicious behavior, they had taken a photo of the license plate of their truck.
The wrath of the media comes down on Harold Camping today as yet another of his predictions is proven wrong, and I wonder how he feels about being wrong, whether he has accepted yet that he is, whether he has begun to doubt himself or his faith because of this, and yet I don't quite find it in myself to sympathize.
This is the same word as yesterday, and unfortunately I have a habit of associating it with women, so now what comes to mind is the Angel of the House, which is a term coined by some writer who I cannot recall at the moment (perhaps Virginia Woolf?).
Domestic words heard everyday in my house were things like "bills" and "food," and when I think of domestic objects, I see books, and the glass coffee table, and the huge corner couch that I practically inhabited.
Mole hills make mountains when we are more concerned with details than getting by. When we inflate those details into more than they were, perhaps, or more than they should be. Tripping over mole hills made mountains.
She was tempted to steal her roommate's marshmallows, but knowing that she had not eaten dinner, she resisted. Instead, she made tea--first the Thai tea from the Asian store, then the green tea her mother had given her ages ago, perhaps before she knew that it was best for women over their 30's, but not so much for younger women.
Forgotten words dissolve into memory where other forgotten people and places reside. Oblivion, dissolution define our forgetting.
A wasteland stretching before one who is alone and decrepit, afraid. The rocks beneath his soles dig into the flesh and stick, dropping off as he walks, and the shrubs have thorns that scratch and bit and claw, but he goes on, mouth hanging open, arms limp.
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