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rock on, serenity

He sat and stared at the light reflecting off the polished stone. The stone had the word serenity etched into it. He pondered the meaning and the significance of the word as the light danced off the stone. He became absorbed in the dance. The light did a tango as his mind did a retrogressive groove. He recalled past loves and hates, success and disappointments. It wasn’t morbid, but more as an outsider. He felt like Scrooge hanging with Christmas Past. He could watch. He could gain understanding. He could grieve or rejoice. But he couldn’t change it. He couldn’t tell the boy to not smoke the cigarettes, steal the money, or lie. He couldn’t stop the hurt of shame or rejection. He could stop the phone call. He couldn’t stop the escape and fear. He couldn’t explain the cost of choices he would make. He couldn’t feel the victories or the celebrations either. He was inert in his past, ineffectual and a bystander. The remorse wasn’t what had taken place, but that he couldn’t affect it.

The word, “Serenity” bent the light as it slid across the rock. He sat and mused as it seemed to slide off the edge as he rotated the rock. He felt the darkness the rock must feel. He imagines the coldness in the dark as the future began to appear as if real and certain. He knew it was a lie, but he was curious. In the dark and foggy picture, a pit appeared. In it were lanky and malformed creatures, reminiscent of the Lord of the Rings character. There were dozens, making horrendous noises. All clamoring for attention, begging to be chosen. He knew that anyone of the creatures could be his future. He could chose anyone of them. He felt sick that this was the pit of his choice. Not one seemed to be pleasing or satisfactory. He lamented the past anew. His choices had led to the despair he saw before him. The Future was silent and wouldn’t answer the questions he had. The rock slid from his fingers and clattered to the table. The light returned, but to the other side of the rock. The future again appeared. The rock is concave and the light is focused at the base. The future was bright and the glare obscured the faces. The noises were soft and pleasing. The warmth undeniable. He felt the welcoming smiles. He felt the soothing beckoning. He looked at the rock. There was a tiny word on the concave surface. He could almost make it out. “Calamity”.

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Posted by on January 16, 2017 in journey, life, Uncategorized

 

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shhh, I am hunting wabbit…

I am going to go to canine jail. I hate to admit it, but I am plotting the death of 6 dogs. By my calculation and simple paranoia, that makes me a serial dog killer. I have come up with creative ways to do it. Many of them borrowed from cartoons. Animal lovers will be glad to know that in my fantasies about this, sometimes I get squished like Wile E. Coyote. Most of the time, however, I then can sit on my back porch, drinking coffee and not hearing the yip and yap of a cacophony of poorly trained pooches.

I moved to a small town and was pretty adamant about buying a house to live in. After my divorce, I lived in my brothers basement for awhile and a crappy apartment before buying one house. Then I moved again and lived in my Dads house for 6 months or so. I wanted my own space. I figured I was going to be in this town for several years and I wanted to try and be settled with it. House hunting on a time schedule is a bit stressful. I had done some preliminary work online, but you really don’t get a feel for it until you are there. I really liked the house I got and saw right past many of the problems with it. I am not disappointed in it, I am disappointed in my neighbors.

I have three neighbors with dogs. To the north, one dog. To the West, 3, and to the South, at least 2, but sometimes seems like a million. I moved in in November. The North dog is on a pretty strict schedule. Every morning at 7 am, he comes out pees and then barks for 10 minutes. Seriously. 10 minutes. He is let out at lunch to do the same thing and again at 9 pm. After about a week, I left a note asking for them to please stop the nuisance barking. The note I got in return denied their dog even barked and blamed the West neighbor. Could I be wrong on that? Hmm. OK, so I left a note for them and they blamed the other neighbor. After I tried to make contact with everyone, I received an anonymous Christmas Card that said I was bothering the neighbors and this was a friendly community. I was taken aback. I was trying to be friendly by dropping a note instead of calling animal control. And if it was so friendly, why are these neighbor letting their dogs bark all the time, and blaming each other? I bought a dog whistle. Each time Id hear the dogs, I would rush outside and blow that whistle until they were quiet. I think the neighbors have dog ears as well, because they would hear the whistle and take the dogs inside sometimes. The friendly neighbors seem to watch me, because they started letting the dogs out earlier and later, when I was in bed. I dreamt of an airhorn. I would blast that through a megaphone each time those stupid dogs yapped.

I did report them to animal control, who came out and warned them. The dogs are now let out multiple times a day for shorter periods of time. The animal control told them that if they were called and they heard the dogs barking, it would be a fine. Lovely.

So, I have no choice to go all doggie postal on these mutts. I thought about the owners, but I am afraid of people prison and the dogs would still be barking until I was sentenced. The dog to the North. It stands in this one spot in the yard to bark. It barks in the air and just stands there. So, he will die by catapult. I plan on launching a cheetah into that spot, using a catapult. For two or three days ahead of time, I will tenderize and season the dog for the cheetah. I will launch spices one day, and BBQ sauce the next. I thought about a ring of fire to gently roast the dog, but I didn’t know how cheetahs would like their dog prepared. I was concerned with how do you hide a catapult, but I figure I will just make it look like a jungle gym.

The Western dogs will be treated to a Western style shoot off. I have purchased several small cowboy hats, holsters and cheesy mustaches. I will decorate the dogs while their owners sit inside and drink themselves stupid. I will put on a pancho, cowboy hat, and boots. I plan on having 2 squirt guns filled with beef broth. I leap into the yard and squirt the dogs. They have guns as well and could fend me off if they’d shut up and spend some time growing thumbs. When they are driven into a frenzy from the beef, I will back up two steps and they will be hit by a train. I have not yet figured out how to get a train in the yard.

The Southern dogs will be in mourning and fear at the loss of the other dogs. I will be a little tired and a little wired after wrestling a cheetah and renting a train. I have called ACME and tried to purchase one of the holes that Wile E. always seems to have, but they are out. Well, they cant find them. So, I got a super bouncy trampoline. I will bury it in their yard and cover it with ground cover. The dogs in the yippy frenzy they seem to be in all the time, will rush over to bark at my lawn furniture. Hitting the trampoline, they will be launched miles and miles North. I will have replaced their collars with hose devices in the Arnold S. movie that make your head explode if you leave the perimeter.

Anyone got a cheetah, a train, or explosive perimeter collars I can borrow? I will be out back, building a catapult.

 
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Posted by on May 22, 2015 in life

 

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