dragonskin
This is the kingdom I rule. Endless rows of desks, shelves of books, limitless possibilities. The smell of Expo markers lingers in the air and I know I am home. The native inhabitants are unpredictable, often seemingly hostile, but I know that they are harmless, for the most part. The time runs oddly in my kingdom. Some days last longer than most would think. Other weeks, times seems to drag, second hands moving in slow motion. Time can play tricks on you
He held the lantern aloft. The weak, yellow beam filtered down through the worn, wooden slats. Beneath the pale, dry straw, something moved. A big something. Rian quickly clambored down off the ladder, backing up against the wall. He ran his hand across the splittered walls, hands searching in the dark. He needed a weapon, something, anything. The shuffling bundled moved closer. A soft snuffling sound came from below the piled hat.
The slim crescent peeked out behind scraggly branches that had long ago given up their leaves. Trusty Orion stood guard, bow at the ready, Sirius at his heel. And there I lay, beneath wandering clouds, missing you. Your memory kept me company. I wish you could have been there.
Hot, buttery, with just the right amount of salt. Popcorn has always been a must-have whenever Im watching a movie. Each crunchy, delicate handful greedily devowerd and washed down with an icy soda.
Im not sure when my love affair with popcorn started. Some of my youngest memories have the image or smell of popcorn firmly imbedded within them. I remember the electronic air popper that my mother once bought. The tall plastic stand would churn curn the kernnels around, ad the clear, butter-yellow top would funnel those fluffy-white tidbits into my waiting bowl. My grubby, little hands would often flick in to snatch a puff or two as they came down the chute. Each stolen bite making my sisters whine in protest. The popper had a small compartment at the top that melted butter while the corn popped. My sisters would argue over who would get to pour the butter over the bowl as I dipped a kernnel in the residue before settling down with the bowl firmly in my lap, sisters sitting to either side of me.
Even older are the memories of my grandmother poping corn on the stovetop. She would lightly oil up the ancient cast iron pan, pour in the kernels, and cover the whole thing. We waited anxiously, listening to the ping-ping-ping of those kernnels as they richocheted around the pan. She would then up-end the pan into a bowl and sprinkle it with salt. I dont remember having had butter then. But the bowl was soon empty non-the-less.
Now, the popcorn obsession continues. My daughters and son are addicted to the same buttery goodness that I still enjoy. Instead of cast iron pans and air poppers, my kids wait eagerly by the microwave door, waiting for that PING! that signals a fight for the popcorn bowl.
blast it all. I cant write to save my life. Why did I bother signing up for another writing comm when I have a ton of papers to grade?! How long does this thing give you anyways?
Reminds me of my Art II class where we had seconds to sketch the nude model. modle. model. model yeah. Funny how a word looks funny if you stare at it too long :/
But back to Art II. Black guy named Willie, you cant make this stuff up! But the guy was a cutie :) I dunno how he did it, day after day. To stand there naked and be scrutinized by a studio full of people who are unknowns on Day 1 and are drinking buddies on day 12345? I was never any good at drawing people realistically. But this chick next to me, maaaaan. Her fingers flew. And there he was, Willie in all his glory, captured in lovely sienna tones.
My conte-smudged fingers giving up after a faceless figure had taken shape. I guess I just cant draw real people. I can draw people, just dont hold up my pic next to the person and compare :/ I always fail to capture them THEM. Their essence. Its all in the eyes, I think. And I could never get them quite right. Give me a landscape anyday :) But then is that just me taking the easy way out? Should I have made more of an effort?
Well, I'm over this experiment. The bell's about to ring and I've got miles to go before I sleep :)