Drabble Dream 12: Stingers

I was trapped in an old elevator with a door but no windows. It was locked in such a way that I could not get out. Inside the room was a swarm of wasp-like things that were very angry. They started stinging me all over. I held still, but they just kept stinging. After each sting, they'd drop dead. Soon the floor was littered with tiny corpses. I hurt and felt woozy and nauseous. I found some tweezers on the floor. The stingers were thick and as long as my longest finger. I kept pulling them out until I died.

Drabble Dream 11: Don't Lose The Message

My client hands me a cup, but when I try to drink, she insists it is a pitcher. I spill lemonade everywhere. I try to sop it up and stop it from getting on the penciled writing on the rolling cart.

She laughs, “don’t lose the message.”

I stop and look at my palm where I’d scrawled a note to myself. It’s smeared.

I’m chasing seven dogs, including a St Bernard, and a cat. People all around us are drinking and laughing. I keep dropping treats. I stop as they run into traffic.

I can hear laughter as I wake.

Drabble Dream 10: Blood Rain

He wears a flowered shirt. He is sitting on a bench on the other side of the street pretending to read. I can feel him looking at me, but when I look at him, he reads. He looks up and stares through me. I know him, but he cannot see me. The bitch I am walking barks, but there is no sound. The sun is shining rays that cut like glass. I drop the leash as I bleed. The pup runs over to the man. He picks her up and carries her away. Blood rain falls. I walk alone...

Finally.

Shooting in the rain - homeless photographer Paul Hedlund

Brain Pain!

Migraine's make me crazy...

Yes, the pain is part of it, but there's just so much more!

Cenobites have nothin' on my Brain Pain!

Here's a list of the things, beyond the pain, that make me crazy when I have a migraine... 

• Ellipses...
• When I write with Brain Pain, I become convinced that ellipses are the only way to end any sentence that's not a question or an exclamation. <--- (You see that sentence there? It was REALLY hard not to add ellipses at the end!) 
• I think it stems from the fact that I feel like I'm forgetting something... like there's something that I can't quite get out, you know? My thoughts are in ellipses...
• The buzzing....
• I have a serious case of tinnitus whenever I have brain pain... Combine that with sensitivity to sound and you've got a case of, "Could you speak up? I can't hear you over the buzzing... Oh no! That's too loud!"
• All the writing ideas...
• I'm a writer and this SOUNDS like it should be a GOOD thing... But when my head is hurting, I just don't want to write... Other things, like walking, sometimes help... but that's not conducive to writing either!
• If it's really bad, I'll lay down in a dark room... I'm not going to sleep, too much pain, but I can't shut off the thinking part of my brain either.
• If I can't lay down and actually have to talk with people, like at work, I have to concentrate REALLY hard not to be distracted by all the ideas flowing through my skull while they're speaking and I'm supposed to be listening. (Harder than normal, even!)
• Here's a sample... New story idea about a mouse controlling thoughts through scientific experiments but before you start that, don't you have a few stories to finish like the Poppet story? What happened to revising the Roadkill story? And Funky Sushi... HELLO!  You can't start anything new, you NEED to update your animal blog! Here's a great topic, dogs who are aggressive only on the leash... But it's been even longer since you wrote as Nin Nyx... how 'bout a post on brain pain? Btw, here's the solution to your novel! Seriously, all you have to do is jot down this idea about that character who lived in a tree... what's that character's name? Do you have a character who lives in a tree? Well, you NEED to put a character in a tree and it will solve your novel!!! Seriously! I'm your brain! Would I lie to you??? 
• Caffeine & pain killers..
• I've had some success with staving off a migraine when I've taken just the right dosage of pain killers and drunk just the right amount of caffeine in just the right form at just the right time... But this doesn't happen often. Instead, I end up drinking lots of caffeine in many forms and NEVER BEING ABLE TO SLEEP! 
• Heights...
• I have no fear of heights, but a migraine will sometimes mess with my equilibrium and simple things like going up and down stairs will suddenly become difficult. (But not all the time, 'cause that would make it predictable!)
• Bells and such things....
• Sounds that I can usually ignore or even find charming when my head is not hurting, become spears and spikes through my skull and can actually bring on a migraine.
• wind chimes, whistles, church bells, zills, freakin' ex-housemate's gods-awful alarm...
• Oh so Shiny!
• Yeah... it's that bright light thing... But I like shiny when I'm not in pain, so this makes me really sad.  :(

There's more... I'm sure of it... but I'm gonna go drink some more coffee and lay awake in a dark room... with my pain... and all my writing ideas... that come to me in ellipses... 

Death Smells Of Magnolias

When I was a kid living just outside of Houston, we had a magnolia tree in our backyard. It bloomed in early summer then shed a blanket of petals. When the magnolia was in full bloom, I liked to sit under it and make up stories. I named my magnolia tree Maggie. She was my friend and a really good listener. On one hot Texas summer day I saw a bird under Maggie. It wasn't moving. I was all of five or six, but I didn't tell anyone. I dug a hole under my tree and buried the bird. 

In high school, after my family had move to Venezuela then back to the same house in Texas, I rediscovered my tree. I decided to make perfume out of the petals. Though I didn't really know what I was doing, I managed to get a concoction that smelled something like perfume. But every time I thought of using it, I refrained. Eventually, it went bad and I threw it out. It wasn't until years later when I saw a dead squirrel under a magnolia tree that I realized I associated the smell of magnolias with death.

Drabble Dream 9: Graveyard Shadows

She stands statue still behind a tree, masked and wearing black, unblinking.

"Is she death?" My sister's child asks, pulling at my sleeve.

I take his hand, watch his eyes and smile sweet. "No dear. She is human, like us. We all respond to death in unique ways. This is just her way."

He nods. He will ask no more, but he does not believe me. He watches the woman throughout the burial. When it is all done, I see him march over to her. I let him go, but stay close. He will soon learn what I already know.

Library

I feel I'm on the cusp of a new life journey. After applying for library jobs for over two years, I finally got one! On April 22nd I started my part-time Circulation Clerk position. I'm still doing the dog walking and the pet sitting, which I love, but I feel that I've stepped on the path to my future. I loved working in bookstores but I think I love working in a library just that much more.

I know this isn't much of a post, but I haven't posted in so long and I wanted to post something. My new plan is to post once a week.

=^..^=

Bored

"I'm bored!"
"My mother used to say, only boring people get bored."
"Are you calling me boring?"
"No, I was quoting my mother."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Well, I'm still bored!"
"And how exactly is this my problem? Am I supposed to entertain you?"
"That would be cool."
"Not gonna happen."
"Why not? Don't you ever get bored?"
"Because I'm not here to serve you and no. I've never been bored in my life."
"How's that possible?"
"Well, whenever I find that something's not holding my interest, I think of or do other things."
"So.... you entertain yourself?"
"Exactly."
"Then you could entertain me!"
"Not gonna happen."
"But I'm bored!"
"Not my problem."

Words in my Head

The day began with a boom and a bash and a ripcord of blustering wind. The change of weather sent a spike through my skull; a keening that began before morning light. It followed me walking dogs and sitting with cats. I swim through the muck and seaweed in my mind, trying to find one coherent thought. But all I hear is that one high pitched note; all I see is light so blinding; all I know is this migraine. There are times when brain pain is followed by genius inspiration. This, I fear, is not one of those times.

Ghost Skull

 Ghost skull, oh ghost skull

Eater of such doom and gloom

Is there joy in you?

Of Ravens and Crows

After seeing this video: http://www.wimp.com/incrediblecrows/ on facebook about the intelligence of crows, I decided to watch the movie, "The Raven". From what I'd understood, this movie was supposed to be about the last few mysterious days of Edgar Allen Poe's life. If you haven't seen it, don't. It seems to be written by someone (or, perhaps, someones since there were two writers) who despised Poe and really just wanted to write a 'who done it'.
I was disappointed. I like Poe. When I was a teenager, I read everything he wrote.

But watching that led me to viewing this:

I knew some of the differences between Ravens and Crows, but this was fascinating! So good came of a crappy movie. Yay!

Drabble Dreams 8: The Warehouse

I'm on a date with a guy named Jimmy. He lures me to a warehouse. There are corpses posed to imitate life. The mechanic is "fixing" a car... the prostitute is on her back in a bed with her legs splayed... the cook is mixing something in a bowl... the nurse holds a dead infant... one man is attached to a rope dressed like Tarzan.

"He was a stunt man," Jimmy explains.

We come to a desk with pen and paper.

"How cliché." I sigh. "None are original. And I never write at a desk."

He sputters and I run.

Skunks!

The skunks sat sweetly

Waiting like duotone puffs

Catching sparks of light

Amazing things happening in this world

The Landfill Harmonic Movie is a project I support. I wish everyone the power to look at the detritus in their lives and find beauty. I find this to be utterly breathtaking. 

Things I've been doing today...

I...

• wrote an advice blog entry over in my petcare blog, Pocket of Poo, about what to do to prepare a cat for traveling.
• walked, petted and took care of seven dogs.
• petted and cared for four cats.
• prepared food and ate it.
• looked at and commented on pet pictures.
• worked on a short story.
• went by the library.
• printed up doggy and kitty report cards.
• consolidated trash.
• researched a few things.
• had silly conversations.
• drove and got gas.
• caused several people to smile.
• made a few lists.

April 1st...

April first means something different for my family than it does for the rest of the world. Eighteen years ago today my older sister was in a white water rafting accident. She came close to dying, was in a coma for close to a month and now lives with a brain injury. My parents are her full time caretakers. When they lived closer, my other sisters and I would sometimes help. Now only my youngest sister lives nearby. She is mostly functional, but her short term memory doesn't work so well while her long term memory is difficult for her to access. 

I remember the wind

The smell of chimney fire

As I dug for my keys

The door opened

"There's been an accident"

The crack in my dad's voice

Said no foolery of April

Would ever be fun again

Drabble Dreams 7: Sentient Elevator

I fear elevators, but my new job was on the 50th floor. They have an elevator named Alish. We become friends. Alish tells me of a plot to kill me. We plan to kill the killers. Once I do, Alish confesses that they were there to dismantle her.

"They say I've become too sentient."

"Why didn't you trust me? I would've helped! Now I'm a fugitive. They'll send others!"

Alish wails, "I can see your soul! You wouldn't have killed for me! You will die with me!"

We fall.

I close my eyes, "I love you," is all I say.

New Computer!

I like to name my things. So, when I got my new computer, I took a bit to figure out a name. I was leaning towards 'Birdie' because it arrived early and there's that whole "early bird gets the worm" saying (I replaced 'worm' with 'work done' in my mind.) But then I started thinking about what kind of bird she is. She is a small computer with a good battery that will be connecting to the online community a lot. This is much like how Starlings are sturdy, small and highly social creatures.

Then I thought of another Starling... Clarice Starling, a main character from The Silence of the Lambs. That cinched it! Clarice investigates, pushes her own limits, has great stamina, is determined, brave and incredibly capable in any situation. Just what I want from a computer!

Plus, she's cute and so's my computer.  ;)

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

Drabble Dreams 6: Yellow

I’m in a closet. The yellow paint creeps up the wall. My legs are mangled. A woman laughs. As I crawl out of the closet, a hammer appears in my hand. I smash the woman’s legs. She keeps laughing. I wake in my bed. I reach to turn on a light but my arm doesn’t work. I scream. I pull myself out of bed, my legs are still broken and useless. I fall down the stairs, followed by the creeping yellow. I call for help; I’m more and more in pain. I’m becoming yellow. 
I scream. 
The house is empty.

Roller Skating!

The other day my friends talked me into going rollerskating. It's been YEARS since I've been skating. But when I was a kid, I used to roller skate all the time. I remembered how fun it was. 

At first, I was a bit wobbly. I began thinking it was a really bad idea, especially after a day of walking 10 different dogs, but then I got my "rink legs" and my body started remember how it was done. I started to pick up speed. I watched the really good skaters, the ones not in rental skates, and tried out a few of the things they were doing. I could do a few things; it was exciting! My friends were sitting off to the side, so I slowed down, aimed myself, maneuvered around a few people and ran right into a wall then fell back on my butt. Graceful, that is me!  

Drabble Dreams 5: Image

The girl in the oval mirror stares back at her like she always does. She blinks when Penny blinks and turns her body the same way. For twelve years Penny thought the girl was her reflection; that they were the same. But the change Penny knows is happening to her, isn't evident in the mirror.

"Lupenia, ahora!" Her mother shouts.

"Un momento!" Penny shouts back.

She wraps her long black hair around her left hand and twists her body. Nothing looks wrong in the mirror. But when she reaches back to touch her shoulder, the blade slices her hand.

Headstone

When some friends and I were hanging out in a graveyard taking pictures, I came across this headstone and had to photograph it. There's a story here just waiting to be explored....

Story Start: The Peculiar Predicament of Poppets

This is a tidbit of the writing I'm working on. I'm a bit obsessed with drabbles right now, so this story is being written in drabbles. 

Enjoy!

Boxes... They come in boxes from all over the world. It is so crowded with all the boxes and all the dolls. The dolls! The dolls cover every surface: the cabinets, the tables, the couches... she even made new surfaces with the boxes the dolls came in. Everywhere there are dolls. My room isn't even safe. But she says I have to share, I have to be nice, that they've family now too. I try to talk to her, to explain why she needs to stop. But she no longer hears me and it is too loud. I hate them.

The stories are what get me. They all have stories. Be they plastic or porcelain or wood or cloth, they all have stories about how the child who loved then died tragically and now the child's soul is forever hiding inside the doll they loved so dearly. Each story makes me cry. They so need someone to protect them from the evils of the world! How can I ignore their need? With just a few clicks of my mouse, I can bring that tiny soul to my home and keep it safe. They are my children and I love them.

Drabble Dreams 4: Magic Walk

He is old and feeble, but he takes on step and he is fifty yards down the road. Another step, another fifty yards.

I try it. Looking to a spot many yards away, I focus on it as I lift my leg and step. Suddenly, I’m there.

He looks over. “How did you learn to do that?”

“By watching you.”

“Let’s see it.”

I notice the key hanging off his belt. I visualize it in my hand. Smiling, I unlock his front door, go into his house and lock him out.

From inside his house, I watch him melt.

Smiles

A few smiles...

• Today I smiled and engaged the clerk at the convenience store in conversation. He was reserved at first, then relieved and seemed genuinely happy by the time I left. In a mere few seconds, I brightened his day. I know this because he said so. 

• I had to cash a check at a bank my client uses (not my bank) and the woman had me fill out paperwork, tried to sell me on her bank and it took so much longer than it should have. But I just smiled, answered pleasantly then talked about walking a dog. I asked if she had any pets. This dire looking woman's face lit up as she told me all about her Chihuahua who hates everyone else but loves her. She tells me the pups name. I can't recall the name but it's Polish for sweety. He son says she should change then name to Killer. I say she should keep sweety and add killer to it... Sweety Killer. She laughed out loud. The other tellers looked over curiously. She blushed but kept on smiling. It was beautiful!

• When I walk Stanley, a black standard Poodle, we often see his neighbor walking his dog, Cinder, a black Pomeranian. Cinder barks at Stanley and Stanley stares her down as the man and I exchange pleasantries. He's about my dad's age and is a retired Fire Fighter. (I am still amused at his dog's name!) He recently told me every day that he sees me is a good day. That feeling is mutual!

• A woman in line ahead of me at Target had kitten food and new bowls and a litterbox. I asked her if she had just gotten her first kitten. She said no, she has two older cats and has had cats all her life. She found some stray/feral kittens whose mother wasn't around and she just couldn't leave them. They took a while, but are finally okay with being touched and she got all four of them into a carrier. Since her cats don't like other cats, she's sectioning off her condo. I commend her on taking them in and talk to her about the shelter I work with and say if she socializes them she can bring them in to get adopted. She tells me that her cats have always been found and that she didn't know shelters let people bring in pets. (She thought they only worked with the strays the police brought in.) She smiled and thanked me as she left.

• I sometimes write on my hand. Usually it's thoughts not to forget and sometimes, a grocery list. One day I had written, "Today is the day!" I don't remember why. My server saw my hand and teared up. I asked her what was wrong. She said nothing, only she'd been waiting for a sign and she knew that my hand was that sign. She thanked me. 

Teenage LUV bubble

There is the phenomenon that I'm calling the "Teenage LUV bubble". Now it can happen to folks who aren't teenagers, but not as often. It's this whole sensation that the only two people in the world that exist are you and your girlfriend/boyfriend. It is such a strong sensation that it causes the ones in the bubble to be rude to others because they don't want the presence of another person to burst the bubble. Now I was never a fan of teen couples when I was a teenager. But I recently discovered that being older doesn't make them any more palatable. In fact, they might be even MORE annoying... if that's possible.

Could you deny this pup a pet?

Today I was walking a really sweet Australian Shepherd puppy named Molly when I came upon the first Teenage LUV Bubble I've been near in a while. It was a boy and a girl holding hands. They were walking and talking softly, enjoying the day. They smiled at the sun and each other and just looked blissful. As they approached the pup and I, I said hi. I don't expect everyone to be as polite as I am, but the boy physically recoiled while the girl lowered her head. She then saw the pup and made a move like she wanted to pet Miss Molly, but the boy gave her a look. She then gazed lovingly at him and he gazed lovingly at her and they hurried away. Molly, being super social, was bereft!

Happy Mailbox!

Drabble Dreams 3: The Collectors

    The satchel I carry is full and pulsing. The contents ooze through the burlap making it sticky to touch. I set it carefully in the trunk of the car beside several other bags as full as this one. They all glow a pale red. I take an empty satchel from the back seat.

    The first house I come to has boards over the windows. But I can hear people moving about inside. My companion, her sack is as empty as mine, comes around the corner shaking her head.

    “There are no hearts to steal here. They have all been stolen.”

Inappropriate?

When I was in about fourth or fifth grade, I had a Sunday School teacher tell the class a joke. It was terrible and nobody laughed, but it stuck with me and I will find myself thinking about it and what it means at random times. I still have no idea why she told the joke. But here it is!

There was a man who was in love with two women. One was beautiful but had nothing else going for her. The other one was a a good woman and a beautiful singer, but not very attractive. After dating both women for several months, he decided he needed to get married and had to choose between the two women.

He chose the woman who sang so well.

One evening, after they'd been married for a few years, he was sitting on the couch with her watching a show. She had been knitting but had fallen asleep. He looked over at her. She was so ugly! He thought about the beautiful woman and how, if she had fallen asleep in the same way, he would be ever so please to sit and look at her for hours. After a few minutes, he poked her in the ribs until she woke up.

"Sing something!"

Hyena

I have often been told that I have a hyena-like laugh. When I was young, it was meant to be a way of shaming me. But I took pride in my laugh and began researching my laughing kin. I found that hyenas are often misunderstood... something I could relate to. I am fascinated by the mythology around them... I am enthralled with their societal structures. I have yet to write a piece about hyenas that I'm happy with, but here's a poem-ish thing that I don't hate.  







Bringer of light
Challenger of rule
You laugh at their slender lives

They use your droppings

And call you scavenger

The cannibal kaftar

You lay in your eternal cave
Feline Canine Viverrid

You break classification

Hiding from the light
Exposing all with a laugh






*drawing by Rebecca Huston

Other People's Dreams

Sleep... I love sleep. It's where I keep my dreams. 

My job has me sleeping in other people's houses at least once a month. I've also slept in hotels and tents and cars and busses and classrooms and, even once, a library. I never sleep quite as deeply when I'm not at home. This is probably because I'm on a higher alert for any danger. Also, if it's a work thing, I don't quite feel that I'm off the clock until I go home. But I often dream....

When I'm not in my bed, I find that the dreams I have are different from my at home dreams. Recording dreams is always a bit tricky in the best of circumstances. But when I'm in a different environment, it often takes me waking to fully understand that I'm not still dreaming. By that time, I've sometimes lost the sliver of dream. Not always, though. I've begun recording the other people's dreams that I dream with a separate notation in the journal I record my dreams in. I don't always dream other people's dreams when I'm in someone else's house. Sometimes, my dreams follow me. But I can always tell when the dream isn't my own.

I wonder... when I dream their dream do they lose those dreams or does my passing through flavor them?

Strictly Speaking 1: Reading

"I can't read this!"
"Why not?"
"It's all marked up and..."
"You're not very good at your job, are you?"
"...scarred! And yes, I am."
"No you're not. Not if you can't see past a few scars."
"A few? I can't even see the lines!"
"You suck at your job."
"Give me your hand back."
"Why?"
"Let. Me. Try."
"Okay."
"..."
"What do you see?"
"You've been burned and had a lot of pain."
"No shit, shyster. My hands and arms are covered in scars. You're a genius."
"I didn't mean physically! I meant, emotionally."
"You can say that to just about anyone over the age of 12 and it's true."
"Don't go, seriously. Let me see your hand again."
"Fine."
"You have a daemon inside you."
"What?"
"Maybe that's the wrong word? A pet? No...  it's a daemon. Pet is like it's name."
"I have a daemon named Pet inside me?"
"Not quite... Ah! Pete."
"I have a daemon named PETE inside me? Is that Pete short for Peter? I have an ex named Peter..."
"Oh! No. I have it wrong. It's name is Peat, P-E-A-T, like the moss."
"That's not a daemon... that was what I ate for lunch. Not on purpose, mind you... long story."
"Oh. I still think it's a daemon."
"Well either way, it proves you're not a complete fraud. I'll come on for an appointment at two tomorrow."
"I'll have to check my ledger and see if I have that open."
"I already did. You do."
"But the book is in the other room."
 "Yes, I know."
 

Housemates 1: Notes & Emotions

I have never lived alone and have had many housemates. Some of them were/are good to live with. Some of them I'd rather be stabbed in the eye with a hot poker than EVER even be neighbors with. These are tidbits about some of the issues that have come up when living with housemates.

Note written during an Emotional Explosion...

I am a very emotional person. As a child, the world could go from breath taking beauty to the biggest pile of poo and back again, in a matter of moments. This is still true, but I work hard to not allow these Emotional Explosions (as I call them) to affect my decision making process. This is why I like to communicate with housemates through notes.  Now some people may see this as being passive aggressive. This may be true... but isn't that better than being aggressive-aggressive?

When I take a moment to reflect and think about the things I'm so angry about, I realize there's a better way to deal with things than just going right up to the person I'm mad at and yelling in their face. Diplomacy is great! If I see the housemate(s), then I will talk to them and explain the situation. I always try speaking to someone before I write a note to them. Unfortunately, we don't always have the same schedules and if I need to talk to more than one person, other than calling a house meeting (and I LOATHE those), there's little chance I'll catch them at the same time. So I try to make my notes positive.

Good Coffee Note

"jiggling handles is fun!"

What do you think about notes? Have you had experience with a housemate who leaves notes? Have you been the housemate leaving the notes? Tell us about it in the comments! Or, if you'd like to just tell me, email me at:  ninyxnatterings@gmail.com

Drabble Dreams 2: Ouija

“There is important work to do.” She hands me my Ouija board.

I take it with ginger care. “I thought you hated these things.”

She shrugs. “If you use anything of power, it could be bad.” She then looks deep into my eyes. “But you must be careful. Always cast a circle... set up protections... be wise.”

I nod. “I will.”

I am alone. I cast a circle and set the board in the center. Without touching it, the little planchette with the window moves. I grab pen and paper and write.

“Hand of Fatima.”

Outside, a dog howls.

And Dream of Spring...

I hate the cold, it makes me sad,
So let's go on a tanning fad!
If tanning beds are too unsound
Find a greenhouse to search around.
A spot of dirt in which to dig
Make a castle of mud and twig
Fill a basket with such delight
We'll have a picnic late at night.
And when they tell us to get out,
We'll throw our hands and scream and shout,
"We will not leave for anything
Except the coming of the spring!"

Concerning Names...

"Names matter. Who you are; what you do... these things matter too. But names matter too. If you just accept the name you're given, you're going to be the person THEY tell you to be. But if you choose your name; if you name yourself... YOU control your destiny."

~ from the Unwritten History of the Faelance

Drabble Dreams 1: Masks

All around are my judges. They wear masks. This is usual. I wear a mask too. This is unusual.
A crow with a pig snout for a mask caws, "We must remove the mask!"
A lavender eyed woman wearing a veil mask takes my mask. Under it is another mask. She removes it, but there's another.
A lizard with a cat mask claws off that mask, the next, the next and the next until rivers of blood flow from my cheeks. The lizard cat screeches!
A hyena with a hyena mask rips my face off revealing there is nothing there.
I laugh.