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Manic – Part 2 – Moments with Sir
For someone’s birthday… since she wants to know… and because I keep fading to black… Sigh. Happy birthday! This is the second half of Manic. *** The fog of dreams gives way to a replay of last night across the back of my eyelids. I groan and throw my arm across my eyes. It does nothing to stop the flood of memory and I pull my pillow over my face. Sir tugs it away and I cover my face with my hands. “What?” I can feel him shift in the bed beside me but I don’t move my hands. “Me!” He shifts again and I feel his fingers close around…
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Manic – Moments with Sir
I slip out of the bed carefully, hoping not to wake Sir or Devin. In the dark I can’t see either of their faces, but I hear no change in breathing, no rustle of movement. I pad, barefoot, across the room. The fan above creaks, sending a steady current of cold air across my bare skin. The door opens silently and I close it again behind me. I grip both rails of the staircase, nervous in the blackness of missing a step and breaking my neck, still mindful of how I place each foot lest the house creak and the subtle shift of energy somehow, metaphysically, stir Sir from sleep.…
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Helpless – SFD
“Lia…” I set my jaw stubbornly and swipe open the news story. Â People shot, politicians, at a baseball practice, government leaders reaching across the aisle to express sympathy, shared calls for unity and humanity. Sir has already warned me twice. Â I’m not to be on devices today. Â “No screen time,” he said this morning, “You can read, you can clean, you can write, you can lie on the couch and sleep, but no screens.” I had already broken the rule twice.
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Empty – SFD
“I tried to think about photography today, I looked for things on our walk.” Devin looks at me. Â “That’s good.” He drags out the second word, questioning, waiting for the rest. “I couldn’t. Â Nothing was… good.” He twists his mouth slightly in sympathy. Â And Sir, standing slightly behind me, brushes my hair back behind my ear.
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The Edge
My fingers move over the keys, not typing, just moving because… I have to move. My legs are twitching, my eyes are too wide, I can feel it but I can’t stop. The depression has been ice in my veins, lead shot in my limbs, defeat, sloth. But now it has been enervated like Frankenstein’s monster, a lightning storm in my brain that gave it a hideous semblance of life. Now it is restless movement, snapping temper, too much light, too much sound… too much… too much… touch… get my fucking clothes off of me NOW!
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Mistakes – SFD #4
“What were you going to say?” His voice is gentle, one hip is cocked against the counter top, his arms are folded loosely over his chest, all outwardly relaxed, casual. She feels her breath catch in her chest and her eyes widen. “I’m sorry.” He tilts his head slightly. “Oh? Are you apologizing or was the end of that sentence really going to be ‘because I’m too…I’m sorry’?” She feels her skin wash with a flush of heat, followed by a chill. Her heart is thumping wildly, high in her chest. Her tongue flickers over her lips, and her eyes skitter over his chest, unable to find a safe place…
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Shitty First Drafts #2
Her ears are filled with the soft hum of the old computer tower, the susurration of traffic in the distance, and the rustle of the curtains as cold air whispers from the vent. Â And then with his voice, soft, gentle, but with an iron core of command. “Why? Â Tell me why.” “Because…” “Write it.”
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Why I’m Stuck
Note: Â This became a question/answer, except I didn’t write the questions (Sir was sitting here asking me questions and making me type the answers…) Â Sorry for the weird format. This is an on-demand writing… Â I’ve been sitting in front of the computer for almost an hour… looking at shoes… Â Sir finally came in to see what I was doing. Â Now he’s supervising me (so I can’t sit and look at shoes… I’m not even a shoe person! Â I literally own three pairs of shoes and wear one of them… Â but you know… Zappos!) So he told me to pick a prompt from a creative writing website and go with it.…
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Zen Tangle
I recently decided I wanted to do cute lettering for my classroom library (I’m redoing my book buckets and making new labels). I’ve always just printed labels on the computer because I am… incompetent at anything cutesie by hand. But my teammate this year did everything hand labeled and it was so nice and colorful and cute in her room… and… I decided I could teach myself some cute lettering this summer and at least fake my way through some hand-labeled tags for next year. Then, in exploring how to make cute lettering, I discovered (or learned about, I’d heard of it before) zen tangling. It’s basically putting a random…
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Moments with Sir…and Sub Brother
It’s been pointed out to me by someone recently that I rarely talk about sub brother, while I talk about Sir a lot. And I’ve been thinking about my response to that, and thought about making in a blog post. So during dinner I brought it up to sub brother and asked him if he would feel uncomfortable if I wrote about him on my blog. He gives me a wide-eyed look and asks, “Me? Why do you want to write about me?” “Because, you’re important to me, you’re my partner and my friend and… I write about Sir all the time, but I hardly say anything about you.” “Well,…