Sinking into the couch after a long day at work was a wonderful feeling. Especially when you had witnessed such horrific violence. You thought back to the interrogation you had witnessed that afternoon.
“You know something, Kyle? When I first saw Jack laid up in that hospital, I was pretty upset. I was angry at who did it. Because right away, Jack reminded me of of me,” Sonny said to the boy gently.
“You see, I was the scrawny kid, way back when. Guys in the neighborhood, they used to pick on me every day. The worst was this this kid, Bobby Bianchi. One day when we were at school, he grabbed me by the hair and he he shoved my face through a plate glass window.”
“Must have hurt.” Kyle seemed like a good kid.
“I was bleeding, I was all cut up. The principal asked what happened. Now I could have put an end to it. Right there, all I had to do was say Bobby’s name. But I didn’t. Because I didn’t want Bobby to get into trouble.”
“He got away with it?” Kyle asked.
“That’s right. Nobody ever knew what happened. You know where Bobby is now? He’s in Sing Sing for stabbing some poor sap to death during a bar fight. And I always think, what if I would have said something? What if I just would have said something? Maybe that guy would still be alive. I missed my shot, Kyle. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret it.
“But this is your shot. Right now.”
Rollins had been right, the story Sonny had told had been a true memory. You had wanted to comfort Sonny that day, but the case had taken up the detectives’ time and instead you had gone over to Rafael’s apartment to wait for him to finish up with his case. Sonny’s story had brought back some less than pleasant memories from your own childhood.
Good News and Bad News. I’m making more workouts than I did two weeks ago. Bad news, I ate an order of fries as big as my face.
I haven’t gotten a chance to write about this weekend because
Tuesday= spin. He does these things called Russian Pyramids that make me love my bike a little less because at the end of the set I HATE my bike.
Monday= a run with Angela. 3.5 miles, my longest and fastest distance this year which resulted in me coughing, throwing up and busting my eardrum. WebMD says it will heal itself, until then- speak in my good ear.
The weekend consisted of
Friday= The Little Athlete’s Soccer game. She’s in the cryo chamber. We both believe in its healing powers for our backs. I was 19 when I had my first back spasms. She beat me and started at 15.
Saturday=2 hour spin class
Sunday = swimming and kayaking. I went kayaking in January.
It was the perfect amount of parenting, training and relaxing.
@jessjuxtapose and I went kayaking for the first time yesterday! we did the 4.8 mile trail and ended up landing on a small chain of islands a little ways off the shore and looked for seashells while the seagulls circled overhead yelling at us. we left from there and headed into a bayou and meandered through reeds and grass until we found a peninsula with an observation deck to land at and have some snacks and rest our arms and ended up dragging the kayak across the peninsula for a shortcut instead of going around it because we were too tired to paddle anymore.
One thing you don’t often hear about Florida is all the wild fucking nature and animals. My backyard is on a canal so it can be a zoo some days, with great blue herons, osprey, turkey vultures, burrowing owls, otters, giant iguanas, jesus lizards, giant soft shell turtles, cormorants diving for fish and the usual birds, raccoons, ducks, & possums. The first time I went canoeing/kayaking it was like a religious experience. It reset my mind. It was like I forgot everything and fall into a rhythm where it all made sense. The residual feeling lasted for days. Later, I looked at buying a kayak and a roof rack for our car. Of course first, you need to put rails on the car then the rack. And then you need to get the right paddles. It wasn’t cheap I’d have to spend almost two grand to do it right. Then I started laughing. Why is it everytime a human being has a religious experience they have to build a church or write some kinda book? Why not just merge with everything and relax? Why do we have to become experts and control everything? Drink a good $9 bottle of wine and put on some real music. Eat some good food, enjoy yourself and other people. Get fucked. Don’t become a sommelier and start a wine collection and build a wine cellar. Just drink, eat, and enjoy. Give park ranger $18 bucks and rent a kayak for ½ a day. Or spend thousands of dollars and drag a bunch of shit around forever and join a club and online forums. Why are we such stupid boring assholes? Maybe we’re just control freaks who have to pretend that we’re special and useful. Maybe we gotta be good or bad so we can pretend that falling in love isn’t the simplest fucking thing in the world. I guess we’re just scared and not quite ready (we’ll never be ready) Maybe it just feels good to get all tied up in knots only to come undone with so much pomp and circumstance. Or perhaps we’re just programmed to buy shit because it makes us feel good to fulfill our programming. The point is, freedom - peace - unified consciousness - love -or whatever you want to call this deeper reality of us. It’s always available and it doesn’t require anything. That was the whole point of the buddha. You can just sit under a tree and stop. Of course, you can claim to be god and get tortured and nailed to a tree if that’s yer kink. But it’s been done. Maybe rent a paddle boat and read poetry to the birds.
Prompt: For the chance of taking a course far from home you decided to house sit for a lovely couple. And everything would go strictly as planned if it wasn’t for this unexpected character coming into picture
Pairing: Buckyx Reader
Warnings: Just pure fluff!!
Word Count: 1,309
Author’s Note:Before getting your hopes up, I just want to let you know all my stories will be sfw. I have absolutely nothing against smut (I actually enjoy reading it from time to time) but I don’t think I’m really capable of writing it :) As always, if you see any words that could/should be replaced or sentences that could be better put together please feel free to point it out! English is not my first language and this will help me improve ;)
You couldn’t help but feel at the edge of an anxiety attack when you entered his car and it was basically empty.You had let all the preparations on his hands because he insisted and it seemed he had done nothing, but in 20 minutes he parked in front of a smaller house, his house, that had a huge motor home on the driving way
While I was in Costa Rica I went kayaking on this
huge lake in the middle of nowhere. I was partnered with this one girl so off we went to kayak. In the middle of kayaking my arms literally felt like they were falling out of my body, I was so tired so I decided to stop rowing haha (Bad decision) then jade got tired too so she stopped rowing then we both moved our body then next thing I know I’m under water. I DONT KNOW HOW TO SWIM so I legit thought I was going to die in Costa Rica like I really thought I was never going to see my family or friends again but then I came back up bc life jacket hahaha. Scariest moment of my life.
You see this? This cute little stick dude on a ladder? This is called Hayakowa’s ladder of abstraction. I had a writing professor who swore by it. He maintained that using it properly would improve your writing and, more importantly, its ability to actually connect with your readers, and this works for fiction (both prose and poetry) as well asnonfiction.
Now, the ladder moves from the abstract (at the top) to the concrete (at the bottom). In the picture, the example starts with “animal” and slowly becomes more and more concrete, moving down the ladder, until “animal” becomes “my three-year-old dog Bella.”
Most writers like to hang out at the top of the ladder, sticking exclusively to abstract concepts. The abstract involves ideals or emotions, thoughts or generalities– love, hope, knowledge, worry, people, peace, faith. Anything that can’t be physically seen and heard.
There’s nothing wrong with writing at the top of the ladder. Of course there isn’t. But fiction writers, I know you’ve heard the “show, don’t tell” maxim. Poetry writers, if you’ve ever taken any workshops, you’ve probably been told to “move out of the abstract.” This ladder is saying the same thing.
You don’t want to stick to one spot on the ladder. You want to move up and down it.
If you’re writing a love poem and it’s all emotions and flowery language, move down the ladder for a line or two. Add a line about the time you went kayaking together. Or something.
If you’re writing a paper about Mary Wollstonecraft’s Vindication of the Rights of Woman and you’re talking about the injustices women face but the entire paper seems vague and lofty, mention concrete examples of those injustices.
This works both ways. You don’t want to write entirely in the concrete either. Maybe you’re writing a short story and nothing seems to happen. It’s just a character mopping the floor at work. Well, add some abstract to that! How is the character feeling about the mopping? What does the mopping have to do with the grand scheme of the world? How many years has the character spent mopping, day in and day out? The possibilities here are endless; explore them!
Well, that’s it for my rant. Next time you’re writing and you’re stuck, just take a step up or down the ladder. You’ll find it may help. Use it to write your next History paper, and you’ll find it’ll boost your grade. (See what I just did there? That was moving down the ladder.)