She’s wandering about the country looking for paradise. Someplace where the sky is clear enough to see the Milky Way. Someplace where there aren’t many people around, but civilization isn’t hard to find. Someplace where the view out the window is an awesome and inspiring natural sight. Are there any paradises left?
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Who knew Grandma had money? She sure didn’t act like she did. But she left me almost $4 million dollars when she passed. I’m trying to figure out where to go. I want to live in the perfect place. I definitely want to get out of Denver. Maybe I’ll go to Spain or Italy. I speak quite a bit of Spanish. Or maybe I’ll move to Canada, except it’s too cold. How about up in the mountains? I love mountains. Are there mountains in Spain?
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Hello! Everyone ready for a nap? I’m here to help you with your napping skills. Let’s get started.
Skill 1: Don’t stretch out on the couch minutes before the dryer will buzz.
Skill 2: No matter how hot and thirsty you are, don’t drink iced coffee late in the afternoon.
Skill 3: If it’s chilly, be sure your blanket is adequate.
Skill 4: Make sure the dog has already been outside.
Have a great nap!
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Mariana could skip. She was an expert at skipping. She skipped wherever she went. It was faster than walking, more fun than running, and felt celebratory to her. Even when she was going somewhere awful, like to her piano lessons, it was fun to get there if she skipped.
That’s why I noticed when I saw her walking down the sidewalk . . .
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She jumped rope in the living room, twacking the carpet over and over with the rope, unleashing dust motes that glinted in the sun that streamed through the windows. Five minutes. Ten minutes. After fifteen minutes she finally stopped jumping. Then the sneezing started.
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Allison slammed the showrunner’s door. “Why did you hire that ass Jason? I can’t write with him and neither can anyone else in the writer’s room!” Allison, red in the face and breathing hard, propped hands on hips and waited for a response.
“He jacks up the drama,” Gerry answered. “As you just proved. He challenges, he annoys, he pushes. It makes everyone else better.” Gerry looked at Allison over the top of her reading glasses. “Go back in there and use your burst of energy to come up with something surprising.”
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The adults used the tires to build things – useful things: walls, shoes, containers of many sizes and shapes, stairways. The children made toys of the tires when they weren’t pressed into service helping to cut the thick rubber into strips for their parents projects. The adults didn’t know who had driven into the desert and dumped a truck load of tires, but they were not going to let a single bit of the rubber go to waste.
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Nowadays skaters stand on boards. Inline skates have replaced the four-wheel clip-on skates I learned to whiz around on. My neighbor exercises on inline skates. Up one side of the block and down the other. Then do it again. On the downhill side she goes faster than a car. On the uphill side she works hard. The perfect exercise. A bit of work, a bit of glee, then do it again.
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Four years of college, four years of two packages of Ramen for dinner, four years of swearing that food would be rich, meaty and fresh in the future. Now that the future was here, now that a job was here, now that money was available, he was so tired each night that he stopped on his way home from work and bought horrid Chinese food or heavy Mexican plates or fat filled sandwiches with beef and bacon. Life was not what he planned for it to be.
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The lunch of my childhood was a study in what not to eat. Fried bologna. (Fried in bacon grease left over from breakfast.) White bread slathered with mayonnaise. A huge stack of salt-laden potato chips. A glass of whole milk. Now that I’m all grown up and know better than to eat that way, I’m not any healthier. Hmmm. Maybe I’ll have fried bologna for lunch today.
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic lunch.