hersa
under the ocean,
the waves ...
.
an elephant poem. that is all. pasted onto The List.
"Due today, due today," blared the loudspeaker/machine/transistor radio. Keldry only groaned into the niche of her elbow.
"Don't tell me - " she began.
It was true, though. She'd forgotten the due date.
"Kindle the fire, won't you?" her dad asked her.
"I already have," she said, with a touch of pride.
He grinned. "Yeah. You've got this down. Of course you do."
She was four but already learning to be a master cook. Within a few years she'd learn how to make recipes of her own, pave her own path.
Ugh, she hadn't worked out today. She'd run thirty minutes a day even after tennis season was over, so what was this? She had vowed to never sign up in a weight loss program, believing she could carry out her sports regime by herself, but she wished for the group-oriented kind of workout, like team tennis. She didn't even feel as if she were exercising when she was with her friends.
She had a lesson learned, now; or half-learned: she wasn't as strong as she thought she was, or used to be. She was no longer a child, of the younegr lifetsyle into which sports were so effortlessly incorporated. She was old now, nearing thirty. She walked the children playing on the playground when she walked from her office to her shuttle stop, and wished that she were that age again - before reality caught up to her and gave her a whole lifetime supply's worth of work, work, and more work.
She missed the swings, most of all.
Ugh, she hadn't worked out today. She'd ran theirty minutes a day even after tennis season was over, so what was this? She had vowed to never sign up in a weight loss program, believing she could carry out her sports regime by herself, but she wished for the group-oriented kind of workout, like team tennis. She didn't even feel as if she were exercising when she was with her friends.
Oh gods, she was tired. It was as if she had never downed that half-liter of coffee that morning, or the diet coke for lunch...maybe diet coke didn't have caffeine in it? That was probably why.
The mountain of homework didn't help, either. She couldn't decide whether it was good for her work ethic by trying to prioritize each assignment, or if it was better for her subconsciously to give herself the day off and take a relaxing theurapeutic bath. Spiritual, you know.
The newest copy of the newspaper hadn't gotten her anywhere. She looked down at the paper, down at the words, so uniform, almost stodgy, in their appearance, like houses cramped all on one side of the road. Her words didn't look beautiful on paper. In fact, they looked just as their meaning did: nonsensical, perhaps, and a little dreary.
She licked the edge of her thumb and, using her other hand, started cutting the base of her thumb. The padding was thick there — she used to play piano when she was younger, and she typed profusely now — so she had to insert her knife and saw with sharp up-and-down motions.