Someone Saturday
Sophia blinked into the mid-morning sun, disoriented from the previous night's debaucheries. Her hair matted out in auburn frays and tangles and she could see caked maroon blood in the tears of her pre-torn jeans. In her right hand was a coffee pot, partially filled with watery green dregs. In her left was the naked leg of a barbie. She sat upright, tossed the leg aside and smelled the contents of the coffee pot. It reeked of mint and sour mix and expensive gin. It was then she noticed, on top of her low cut blouse, dangling between her freshly mastectomied breasts, a laminated ID badge for a middle-aged Indian Arizona Tech employee named Gary Danesh. She turned to the back of the ID, hoping some memory would be jogged by its contents, but there was only a thick black line and some legal jargon about forgery. She stood up, realizing in the process that her left leg was sprained, if not broken, and she was barefoot. The sand sifted between her toes and for the first time she heard the great susseration of the ocean. She stumbled, best she could, to the edge of the water and bending over, rinsed the contents of the coffee pot in the waves. She then filled it and took a few desperate gulps, only to retch up the seawater and whatever poisonous fluids remained in her stomach. Furious, she flung the pot out into the ocean and collapsed onto the beach, red and gasping. "So this is how it begins" she said aloud, as she watched a sandcrab scuttle across her belly.
Sophia blinked into the mid-morning sun, disoriented from the previous night's debaucheries. Her hair matted out in auburn frays and tangles and she could see caked maroon blood in the tears of her pre-torn jeans. In her right hand was a coffee pot, partially filled with watery green dregs. In her left was the naked leg of a barbie. She sat upright, tossed the leg aside and smelled the contents of the coffee pot. It reeked of mint and sour mix and expensive gin. It was then she noticed, on top of her low cut blouse, dangling between her freshly mastectomied breasts, a laminated ID badge for a middle-aged Indian Arizona Tech employee named Gary Danesh. She turned to the back of the ID, hoping some memory would be jogged by its contents, but there was only a thick black line and some legal jargon about forgery. She stood up, realizing in the process that her left leg was sprained, if not broken, and she was barefoot. The sand sifted between her toes and for the first time she heard the great susseration of the ocean. She stumbled, best she could, to the edge of the water and bending over, rinsed the contents of the coffee pot in the waves. She then filled it and took a few desperate gulps, only to retch up the seawater and whatever poisonous fluids remained in her stomach. Furious, she flung the pot out into the ocean and collapsed onto the beach, red and gasping. "So this is how it begins" she said aloud, as she watched a sandcrab scuttle across her belly.
Haiku of the Day:
First meat in a week
freezer burned turkey bacon
Heaven Incarnate
freezer burned turkey bacon
Heaven Incarnate
Today's Drawing (inspired by the word "disjunctive" from MW's word of the day. I drew from a picture of myself reacting to the word.)
Today's "365" Project (Make some with paper mâché)
"A Moving Heart"
"A Moving Heart"
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