Day 128: Save the Cheerleader

Nighttime.  The barely paved country road rises up and drops down with the rise and drop of the Oklahoma hills.  Gretchen watches bugs light up in the headlights of her hand-me-down black ’69 Fiat Spider.  The top is down and they stay lighted as the blow over her head.  It’s a strange effect.  Gabe “Knocker” Nockman drives.

The September air is warm and clear.  They are are far enough out of the city to be seeing stars well.  Ever time the car descends into a ravine the temperature drops sharply then warms again on the climb out.  When they pass over a creek the windshield fogs briefly.  At the speed Knocker is going the sensation is invigorating.

They pass under a tree and it’s lighted leaves swoosh overhead.  Gretchen loves the top down when she’s not driving.

Can’t figure out where I am going with this.

Word count: 149

Day 127: The Clock at Kite Street

Geminia heelsided her skid to a drift stop all the while keeping her eye on the receding ship. “I missed her.”

“Ettesa’ll be back in a fortnight or so,” said Hera.

“I said, ‘I missed her.’ I didn’t start crying.” Her skid slowly slid down the wet sand toward the waves. Too much water would tweak her gliders and she’d spend the rest of the day trimming them out. She jammed her heel into the black sand to stop.

“Shitting sea. I hate the mother shitting sea.” Geminia released her bindings with the remote in her pocket then kicked the skid upright and slung it over her shoulder like a gunslinger holstering a six-shooter or a samurai sheathing a katana. Doe-eyed Hera looked startled–she always looked a little startled, but this time she might actually be. “What?”

“You’re so good with that. Maybe you could show me?”

“You wanna ride my skid?” Hera confounded Geminia. She did or said stupid shit all the time, but she wasn’t stupid. [place demonstrative examples here]. With Ettesa gone now she’d have to look after her alone. Make sure she didn’t [do some stupid stuff].

“Realz?”

“Reals.”

“First, don’t talk like that. Second, no. Third, a skid’s like a thong–you just don’t share it.” Gemenia took up Hera’s hand. She realized it was the first time she’d held anyone’s hand since her mother died. “Let’s find you a maker.”

It occurred to me I’ve only written beginnings. I thought I’d kick off this year with an ending. I don’t know that the above does a great job of wrapping up any threads for a story I don’t know. But it feels like it’s written conclusively in some ways.

I might have to try a few of these. Though maybe ones without obvious ending clichés.

As for the title, I’ve been making those up after based on the material. Since this is the end of something presumably the title’s relevance to the story would have worked itself out well earlier in the story. Therefore it’s entirely nonsensical–for now. Enjoy!

Word count: 361

Day 126: What I’d Rather Cut My Teeth On

Wacky patchwork day today.

It began with a late morning in bed, breakfast for the kiddos, and then hacking at the job for a bit before a late lunch and two or so hours on the phone with support.  At the end of the call the headache that had been looming like a Red-tailed hawk on a urbanized rabbit swooped in and made it’s kill.  I hung in there for another hour before stumbling back to bed for a short nap and a near magic recovery.  I am deeply suspicious that it’s the prilosec side-effect headache since I was well caffeinated earlier in the day.

Dinner was a last minute trip to not-so-cheap Chinese.

One kid to bed, the other two watching the BBC’s Planet Earth on HD.  Some segments of the circle of life in HD are worth skipping over.  Somehow, “Well you see, the lions are hungry too.” just doesn’t erase the elephantine abattoir.  Life’s messy and I don’t want them to not know it’s real, but I think I’ll cut my teeth on explaining vaginas and penises before I try to explain gutting Dumbo’s mom again.

All this is to say that I didn’t notice that it was late and I hadn’t yet written for the day.

Word count:  207