All is Lost

“All is lost,” she whispered as she watched the home she’d lived in all her life collapse under the flames devouring it. The shed, the outbuildings, the homes on either side of hers, all aflame. She didn’t know what to do other than stand and watch, didn’t know what to think, where to go, how to proceed. She only knew all was lost.

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Imagine

Imagine living on Mars or a moon of Jupiter. The conversation around moving out into the solar system has always been a lively one. Would you go? By choice? By necessity? We’re quickly making our own planet inhospitable to human life. Do you suppose we can pollute and corrupt our entire solar system before we become extinct as a species?

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Tangled

They were tangled, those neurons, those synapses. I tried every day to teach them to rearrange and retangle into some semblance of ukulele player. The eyes, the nerves, the muscles, the practice – finally it began to click, to happen automatically, habitually. Whew. Neurons are tough customers.

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Apartment 204

I’m in apartment 104. Above me is 204. They are pretty quiet people for apartment dwellers – I don’t hear too much from up there. But just now I heard a lot of noise and crashing and thumping. I’m standing in my kitchen trying to decide if I should go up there, call the police, or do nothing.

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Roomie

“Can you live with a roomie?” I asked. I like being alone and don’t often understand how people can enjoy having others around all the time – especially strangers who move in with you as roommates. But he was confident. “Yes, of course,” he said. He looked at me as if I were . . .

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Ruby

The sunset sky was ruby and rhubarb, streaks of color I watched in my rear view mirror as I drove past acres of sunflowers. It was a stunning sight that lifted up my heart and made the whole day seem worth it – a feeling I hadn’t felt for most of the day.

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Diamond

Her talent was guilt. She used it to spear with diamond-like bloodless aim. Her precision was laser perfect. She could be around you for 10 minutes and know where to inflict the pain. Everyone hated her but there was no way to get away from her.

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Hate

I hate how hard it is to get up out of a chair. I hate how hard it is to walk long enough to buy groceries. Those are just physical things that life gives you as a gift of aging. I don’t hate transgender women who might want to enter the women’s bathroom at the same time as me. That kind of hate is vicious fear mongering harmful to everyone.

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Parched

The overhead fan whirring, sprawled on her back, snoring with her mouth hanging open. No wonder she’s parched when she wakes up. She staggers from her bed, stiff and splay-legged, pours a glass of water, and finally revives enough to open her eyes.

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