It’s rained here 25 consecutive days. In a row. That’s what consecutive means. 8 or 9 more days, and we beat our record. Now, I am of the opinion, if you are going to do something, go all the way. Let’s beat that record! But not everyone agrees with me. They are getting a little tired of it. However, I doubt seriously the Seahawks will make it to the Super Bowl, so, we are going to need something else to be proud of, anyway. Whooo-hooo, 34 days of rain in a row! We can do it! Come on!
So this week’s theme is rain.
Running Between Raindrops
“Who’s idea was this again?”
“Yours, it’s your New Years Resolution. Healthier lifestyle.”
“I was probably drunk when I said that. It’s raining.”
“Yes, it’s cold, too.”
“We could go back to bed, instead.”
“Now, that happens to be one of my New Year’s resolutions!”
I finally did it! My foes laid vanquished and the gem was in my backpack. I took the opportunity to look out of the tower windows at the beautiful view of Azeroth. “Kapowder,” Alune said, “I hate to rain on your parade, but those Shadowcasters will be respawning any second!”
Rain avoided him for months, even though their paths crossed daily. She simply refused to look at him when he passed. Finally, one wintery morning she met his gaze unexpectedly. Her steel grey eyes flashed like lightening in a storm.
“I’m sorry.” He said.
“Yes.” She agreed. “You are.”
Private Criminal
I am holding a tin of beer in my hand, and it feels right. Itís not whether the act is right or it is wrong. Its not a moral assessment, itís a feeling, and the weight in my hand feels right. The weight means that there is more room to blot out existence. Perhaps itís not the healthy choice, but in the darkened corners of the bunker it just seems correct. We are moving now into the New Year. New years and the old fears, new roads and old paths. Something will not change without a stressed effort. The habits have become far too comfortable. Some people call this addiction. However I see it less as an addiction then the outcome of motivations deeply entrenched in the routine.
We lay out our credit cards, grab the goofy helmets and take a lap around the parking lot.
Hit the beach and ride. Wind to our backs, our smiles are huge. End of the line.
We turn, 30 mph head wind and the rain hits. We laugh, gunning the throttle.
good job everyone, i love the stories. bonus points to jack for writing a true story that features, well, ME!