Day 12: Laundry, Learning, and Writing

So here we are again, late night early morning. Laundry is in full swing, and I cannot sleep. Don’t get me wrong; I could definitely sleep. I’m one of those annoying people that can lie down, close my eyes, and pass out. Right now, the dryer is running, and I could easily go to bed, and instead, I chose to write. Who does that at 3 AM? I suppose I do. 

I guess it’s better than the alternative, waking up in the middle of the night with an idea. It’s one of the most magnificent ideas to have ever woken up a writer or anybody for that matter. It is an idea that you just had to write it down before you forgot. You need to write it down before you had to pass out again. Morning comes, and you look at this strange scribbled mess, “peace muffins, purple flies staring me in the face.”

The part about the purple flies actually happened too. Except it wasn’t something I wrote down, apparently I said it in my sleep. 

Earlier in the day, I had been working on something that I’ve had for five years. It’s funny how you can look through your work and know that it’s not something that’s going to be short. This small bit of writing could be a book one day. Whether it’s something that gets published or is even liked by anyone else is another story. The only downside is that it’s all over the place right now. It’s broken up into three different documents right now, and I’m trying to get it down to one. The writing so far is broken up into different sections, and nothing really fits together just yet. Every time I read through it, though, it even catches my interest. I’m getting to the end of a paragraph, and I’m thinking, “Hey, where’s the rest of it, I need more!” 

It’s days like this that I wish that someone could just pay me to write. That I wouldn’t have to go to the regular job I have now, I could just stay home and keep going. Isn’t that what we all want in life, to be able to do something we love doing? I’m part of several Facebook writing groups, and I see posts from other people feeling the same struggle as I do. It’s so frustrating sometimes and such a slow process to get through for the results you want. 

In other news, I’ve started something that I hope I can stick to doing. I made myself an account with www.udemy.com. For those of you who have never heard of this fantastic site, it gives you access to learn about all kinds of things. I managed to snag several courses for an excellent price, and I am excited to start. Of course, I bought one about writing because no matter how much we think we know, we can always stand to learn more. I also purchased sessions about photography and software used alongside photography.

When I started up my blog, for the second time, I knew that I had wanted to write posts and include pictures that I have taken. I’m not too fond of the idea of posting photos that aren’t mine, that and it scares me that I would use a picture and get in trouble for it because of copyright reasons. Aside from that, I’ve always loved the idea of having a really good camera. Although I am aware that cell phones these days can take some fantastic pictures, something about having an actual camera in my hands feels legitimate. To sum it up, I am trying to arm myself with as much knowledge as possible and to find a way to obtain what I want. I’m hoping to get enough money back from taxes to get some equipment and put what I’ve learned to work. Wouldn’t that be a kick? I end up having a career in photography. Keep your eyes open for future posts with my own pictures that look amazing. Meanwhile, check out tonight’s writing buddy. His fur looks a little funny, but that doesn’t stop him from being a cool little guy to hang out with at three in the morning. 

Well, my lovely friends, to be fair, instead of one of my 100-word pieces, today I will share with you part of that story I mentioned earlier. I’ve only had a couple of other people see it, and I know some of it won’t make sense to you, but I like it enough to share. If you want to know more, don’t be afraid to ask. You can leave a comment here or follow me on Facebook and message me there.

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It wasn’t the first time he had received a calling this early in the day. Usually, they came in about mid-morning and increased as the day went on. Most of the time, they were simple things. Wishes for a good day, smooth traffic, sometimes it was a mother praying for their coffee to kick in before their kid work up. It wasn’t even the first time he had received a high amount of calls this early either.

As he neared the rooftop, the pull of the call became stronger, and it became clear that this would not be like other callings. He stepped onto the gravelly surface and made his way across the building. His eyes shifted back and forth, searching the shadows, careful not to miss a thing. By this time, the calling was strong enough to cause a metallic taste in his mouth, and a low hum filled his ears, blocking out all other sounds.

Along the edge of the building, standing shoulder-to-shoulder, were the Archs and Keepers. A few feet away, the Stripes huddled together, openly weeping. A few of the Stripes eyed the Archs cautiously as one of them broke away from the group and made their way closer to the edge. He wasn’t sure what had tipped off the Arch closest to the Stripes, it happened so fast. Just as the Stripe had gotten to the edge, he suddenly let out a piercing cry and quickly rushed off back to the group. The Arch that had struck the Stripe glowed softly against the dim morning sky. Her face relaxed from its stern glare as she lowered her outstretched arm and turned back to watch the street below.

Finally, coming closer, he took his place next to one of the other Keepers and had his first look at the reason for the early call. Humans lay scattered on the ground; some were already still while others continued to convulse as they appeared to be dying. The Keeper frantically began searching each face, looking for a human charge he recognized.

“Don’t bother,” another Keeper whispered grimly. He turned to reply to the other Keeper, but his eyes were trained on the humans below, dismissing further conversation. Returning his gaze to the street, he began to understand; the change had already started. The humans would continue to die and begin the transformation. Although none of the humans were his, the Keeper could sense the wrongness of it all. The light that surrounded each human had disappeared. Even in death, there should have been something left behind. One by one, the light of their souls disappeared. By this time, not one of the Stripes could stand to look at what used to be the humans they took diligent care of for minor callings. The Archs had already begun to turn and leave, reports had to be made, everything must be recorded, and orders must be given. The other Keepers prepared to dispose of the Changelings below. It was the part he hated the most.

A small scraping sound forced the Keeper to turn around. Kneeling next to a pipe, that was coming out of the roof, was a short, wide-eyed young girl. He was beginning to think how strange it was that she was so calm, taking in the sight of what clearly humans would call Angels, and then her eyes started to glow a bright yellow. Recognition dawned on him. He had never seen one up-close, but he’d heard about them. It looked as though he was in the presence of a newly awoken Script. She was young for an awoken Script, but they had lost several older ones recently, so it did make sense that new ones were waking sooner. Her analytical gaze traveled over him, quickly and efficiently, before moving on to take note of each of the others present. The Keeper watched her work for a moment, curious about how a Script recorded the history of their kind. Her eyes returned to him as she finished her task. She blinked at him for a few seconds as her eyes turned back to their dark color. She continued to stare at him, searching his face as if she wasn’t sure whether she knew him or not.

“Do you live in the building?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No, I’m just visiting.” He replied, unsure of what else he could have said. “Where is your handler?”

“My mom? She’s still in bed. I come up here to read in the morning.” He then realized his mistake. Not only was she newly awoken, but she didn’t even have a handler yet.

“You shouldn’t be here. Go back.” The Keeper commanded. “Your mother might be looking for you.” He added to soften the order. It looked as though she was about to leave, but then her eyes started to glow. Her face went slack as her eyes traveled over his face one more time before returning to their natural state. The young girl turned and walked away toward a door on the other side of the roof. Without looking back, she opened the door and walked back down the stairs.

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