overwhelmed

Overdue post – Sudden Fiction entry

/ autumncircles / 4 Comments

A while back, I wrote about a sudden fiction story I wrote that was well received by A Room of Her Own Foundation.

Well, here it is.

I like this format.

Peace.

Manifesting the Invisible

As she sat at her desk, surrounded by blue pushpin fabric and tiny windows whose only view was of interior walls, munching on pink M&Ms intended for Valentine’s Day, Vivian wondered how she’d let it happen again. She thought she’d been extremely careful in her choices over the last few years, made those major life changes all of the self-help gurus prattle on about and yet, here she sat convincing herself that not one thing had changed in her life and she was destined to fade away like an old water stain eventually does on decent leather – slowly, but surely.

Then something unexpected happened. As Vivian reached out have a sip of her soda, it was as if her hand – ever so briefly – disappeared. She almost didn’t see it as she was concentrating on her computer monitor with the usual blinding monotony that kept her seated there nearly forty hours every week. But, as she glanced down to make sure she actually grasped it instead of knock it over like she had been known to do – her hand was as clear the plastic bottle containing her afternoon caffeine fix. She made a tiny, yet audible yelp which in turn made her co-worker in the neighboring cube react.

“What was that?”

“Um,” stuttered Vivian. “Nothing. Almost spilled my coke is all.”

“Not again?”

“It’s okay,” Vivian replied quickly. “False alarm.”

“Humph,” the neighbor responded minus concern.

Vivian settled her hand onto her mouse as if clinging to the crossbar of a speeding rollercoaster. She had always been eccentric with a bit of the fanciful, but she had never, ever physically hallucinated before. IF that’s what this was –a hallucination. As she maintained her much too expected composure and clenched her every muscle into paralyzing submission, she allowed her eyes to slowly drift over toward the clock. It was time to go home.

“Thank goodness,” she thought. “It’s been a long day, probably nothing.” She hadn’t had a break as the office was short-staffed and she’d had to cover the phones most of the day. Vivian finished what she was working on, cleared off her desk and grabbed her purse. She stepped out of her cube to say goodnight but there was no one left. She quietly left by the back stairwell. As she walked to her car, she checked her hands every few steps to make sure they were still there. They were.

As Vivian approached her beat up old car, the thought again crossed her mind that nothing had changed for her. She originally loved her red station wagon with the turbo engine, but it had fallen into disrepair. She kept meaning to get that dent fixed, but never got around to it and now the dents had begun reproducing like rabbits. She climbed in, tuned into her favorite talk-radio station and began her short drive home in her typical mental brown-out.

Vivian liked to listen to sports talk-radio even though she didn’t really follow most sports. She liked the banter between the hosts and occasionally would talk back to them as if she were part of the show. The argument tonight was one she was becoming extremely tired of – steroid use by extremely well paid baseball players.

“What do you mean – no one cares?! What about the fans?!” Vivian yelled at no one in particular in response to the side of the debate which claimed that if everyone was using, the playing field was then level. She reached down to turn the volume up and it happened again.

Her hand was gone. And this time it wasn’t brief or for just a flash of a second. It was gone.

She could still feel it, feel her fingers but she could not see them. She clutched the steering wheel and immediately saw that her other hand was gone, too.

“Aagh!” Vivian screamed and hurriedly pulled off to the side of the road. As other cars passed, she could see drivers yelling and even flipping her off. She didn’t care. Couldn’t they see she was in distress? She sat there trying to comprehend the fact that although she could sense them, she could not see her hands at all. “What the hell is happening to me?!”

She stretched her fingers, balled her fists and even clapped – there was joint crackling, nails digging into her palms, and slapping sounds. But no hands.

Vivian had no idea how long she sat there on the roadside staring at the empty space that was expanding on the end of her arms. A car honked loudly enough to get through her haze and she instinctively found her winter gloves tucked into the side door pocket and put them on. She waived off the honker who was long gone and decided it was best to get home. She sped off down the road so fast, her car squealed but left no tire marks.

It was dark by the time she arrived. The porch light was not on, so she had to fumble with the lock and key mumbling to herself how it drove her nuts that no one ever remembered to leave the light on for her. She could hear the kids arguing in their rooms with their Dad about taking a shower or finishing up homework and headed straight to her room.

While in the bathroom preparing to take off her gloves, praying her hands had magically reappeared, her husband knocked on the door.

“Hey, babe, you in there?” he asked. Then, without waiting for a reply, he said “Going for a bike ride. See ya.” Vivian soon heard the back door swing shut.

She chose to leave the gloves on, she was cold anyway. She put on her nightshirt and climbed into bed without saying a word to anyone. Tears of confusion dampened her pillow, as she fell into a deep slumber.

Not even the dog asleep at her feet noticed as the lump under the covers slowly, but surely faded away.

—–

Kathleen Vaught
© February 11, 2009
All Rights Reserved.

Pain Management, Drugs and Power Outages

/ autumncircles / 4 Comments

I am behind on my blogging.

I have no excuses, but I do have reasons.

Finally taking care of some chronic pain issues.

Unfortunately, it involves some drugs. And, in a few days, a giant needle in a tricky location.

Our power was out due to storms and I discovered my total dependence upon electricity. Even though that was this past weekend, I have not yet caught up.

Needless to say, I have no witty comments today, no soul searching angst to spit out into the universe nor any veiled haikus of hidden feelings and secrets I am too afraid to announce presciently.

However, I miss my blogging connection and am popping in to say “hi.”

Okay – maybe I do have a haiku…peace…especially to my friend… ♥

How strong is my heart?
Endless downpour pushes brink.
Love shines from the stars.

Emergency Blogcast System

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This is a test of the Emergency Blogcast System. The blogger you are reading in voluntary cooperation with her keyboard and other authorities (i.e., her brain and emotions) have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency get away. This is only a test.

It was a dark and stormy night. At least, that’s what her brain was telling her. The thunder roared all around her as if the infamous Concorde itself was crashing in her backyard. Lightning blinded her vision every few seconds and the rain poured in like bullets from the many holes in her roof.

“When will this end?” she cried softly underneath the wet blankets she pulled over top to shield herself.

As the woman lay sobbing, she plotted her escape. She knew in order to be free of the torrential downpours that consistently destroyed her home, she had to get away. She had heard of a place once where it hardly ever rained and when it did, it was like dew drops kissing the earth. Nothing like the laser guided water cannon she was experiencing tonight. She longed for that place and prayed with all of her soul to find out how to get there.

She’d had road maps before on how to find it, but it still eluded her. She sought the directions of many who had claimed to make it and come back to tell the tale, yet here she still lay, soaked to bone and jolting involuntarily with every thunderous cry. She didn’t think those directions were purposefully misleading or untruthful, they had only led her to a certain point in the journey and then stopped. She was now in a middle ground area without guidance or any more useful clues on how to complete this trek across baron countryside, dense forests and steep, steep mountains.

She had kept going thinking that for sure there would be some sort of mile marker or sign in the path that indicated she was still going the right way, but those, too, had stopped appearing many unthinkable miles ago. Or maybe she had just missed them because she could barely see through darkness. She only traveled in the cover of night as her days were spent pretending the night would never come all the while obsessively stocking supplies for her eventual underground travels. Now she feared she was totally lost without the ability to find her way back to where she was nor the stamina to keep going forward.

This was not the first time her quest’s path had veered dramatically from what she thought it was supposed to be. In fact, she was surprised she had made it this far. She had wanted to give up numerous times before, but something, something greater than herself, kept her going.

And now?

Well, now she was just fucking tired. She was tired of always picking up the reins of the horse to lead the carriage through the next deep valley or raging river. She was tired of looking to other people to take those reins with her only to be told that it doesn’t work that way. She must do it on her own. She looked around her and saw others doing it, why couldn’t she? She heard other folks get the words of encouragement needed to keep going, why wasn’t she hearing any?

So, on this night, the one that had become so dark and stormy, she decided she was done. She reached out and threw off the covers. The rain hit her hard enough to knock her back down. She got up again and stood strong. She looked around and tried to see which direction she would take. By all accounts and previous experience, she knew she should take the path to the right. It provided cover from the rain and there was a fifty-fifty chance she’d make it to next clearing before collapsing in exhaustion. Then she could rest again and start over. At least she would get respites from the rain.

The path on the left, however, looked less familiar, more daunting. There was no cover from the rain or lightning. The horizon was far off in the distance and she knew it would be dangerous and the opportunities to get lost again were great. It was totally open, no way to mark where she had been in case she wanted to find her way back. No way to plan which way she would proceed forward in a linear fashion. She could easily think she was walking in a straight line, but end up having curved far to the east or west without ever knowing it until it was much too late.

There was one benefit to this left pathway – it was full of sunshine. She could not see a cloud, well, at all. None. Just warm sun basking on the ground below.

It took her only a moment to make the choice. She took a deep breath, smoothed out her hair and took a step. Then another and another. She began to run. She ran so fast, she was quickly out of view…

If this had been an actual emergency, the Attention Getting Signal you just heard would have been followed by official information, news or instructions on how not to find the true location of the blogger.