Friday, August 17, 2012

Study Hour

I'd been studying all night. My big test is less than a week away, and I still can't remember how to find the inverse of a function. My eyes had become strained to the point that the computer screen was beginning to swirl into an unrecognizable eddy of misshapen coefficients and variables.

I stretch and yawn, but I don't rub my eyelids, because that can cause wrinkles, and if I suddenly develop wrinkles, people might start to suspect that I'm somebody's grandmother.

Reaching for the eye drops seems like a chore. The nightstand is a little too far away. I have to adjust my position, but still, I can't reach it.

The lizard that hops onto my hand is a bit of a shock. It is light and quick. I slap it away, but it is more determined than I. It hits the floor mid-leap and comes right back to me, attaching itself to the front of my shirt. Holy Crap! I smack and slap and push, but with every contact, the lizard becomes heavier and blacker and meaner. It grins at me with an evil intent in its eyes.

I'll trap it, I think to myself. Looking around, I see that I'm in a noisy cafeteria somewhere. There are people around me, but they don't seem to notice my dilemma. I grab somebody's tupperware bowl, slap the lizard to the floor. With a fierce leap, I slam the bowl over it.

A short-lived sense of smug victory runs though me, until the vile creature begins to outgrow its prison, pushing me upward until it seems that I am riding it like a horse. There was a moment I thought it might grow wings and carry me away. Another dragon dream?

Instead, it disintegrates into a pool of black ooze under a cloud of  thick, sticky smoke. I fall away from the mess, horrified that I've been poisoned by the noxious fumes.

I land safely in a landfill atop the world's largest pile of dirty laundry. My hand scrapes against a mess of caked-on food and grime. Gross.

I stand and view my circumstances. There is nothing on the horizon but more laundry.Endless hills and valleys full of stinky socks and boxer shorts.

Not a bathroom in sight.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Not a dream.

One of my friends called me up and asked why I blocked this blog from public view.

I had no idea.

Glitch, I guess.

I fixed it.

Read on, Marisol!

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Two Seconds

"This doesn't seem safe," I murmured to the girl with the blue streak in her hair. She shrugged one shoulder and ignored me and the Laws of Gravity with one giant leap into the abyss.

I cringed and closed my eyes, expecting to hear the crunch/splat of flesh and bone as it collided with bottom of the pit. No such sound resonated there. Only the faraway giggle of that rebellious child echoed back to me.

"Crap on a cracker," I muttered when I spotted her blue streak shining in the darkness like a firefly. She flitted from here to there and back again.

The dragons paid her no attention. They swarmed upward and then forward, intent on my destruction. I turned and ran from the hoard.The flapping wings and fiery breath drowned all other noises. I couldn't hear my sobbing.

Into the field of corn seemed to be the best bet for my safety.

But, as it turns out, corn burns.