Thursday, April 18, 2013

100 Words: First Things First

I was about to sit down and write an award-winning essay about equality as demonstrated in "Harrison Bergeron" by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. My outline is outlined. My works are cited. My notes have been noted, and my mind was focused.

Then I got a whiff of the ole body odor pouring off me and a glimpse of the "jus' rolled outta bed" hairdo I'm rockin' this morning. (What if Publisher's Clearinghouse stops by to give me my ten million dollars? You know they always film that shit.)

Sorry, Mr. Vonnegut. I simply must get in the shower. Priorities, you know.

Monday, April 8, 2013

Dream: This Ain't Alaska

His first mistake was thinking I'd go down without a fight.

He shoved me into the walk-in freezer and bolted the door. I didn't know how long it would take for the human body to freeze to death, and I sure as hell wasn't going to put it to the test. I formulated a plan for survival right away. I needed to knock those fans off the ceiling. The problem was I didn't have a crowbar handy.

When we were kids in Alaska, we called them snot-sicles. I could feel them forming on my face as I desperately searched through the cardboard boxes for anything that would help me. I opened them one by one and tossed them aside as I rejected them. I knew I was running out of time. I needed to stop crying, or my face was going to freeze like that, literally.

His second mistake was thinking the dismembered body of another of his victims would deter me from my goal.

I'm sorry, dead girl. I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry you're dead. I'm sorry I had to use your frozen arm as a bat to disable those fans. I'm sorry you had to watch it all with your frozen dead eyes, staring at me in disbelief.

With magnificent strength, I swung, and the metal box that encased the freezer fans came crashing to the floor. The chamber echoed eerie silence.

His third mistake was coming back for me.