What This Blog is About (with a Quote)

These lines are my vow—that by the stony centuries I am lost to, your sins will not be forgotten—I will not let history bring comfort to your bones after you took comfort from my friends and I. You chose to waste your great potential, and now your failure lunges back like an angry lion. Do not act surprised—it is only life, the life you said yourself was hard, when those words were convenient to you. You believed this life was only yours—only yours, guaranteed not by the merits you claimed to judge others by, but because of all the people of this world, you thought you were the best.

~ Lutum Hominus, 13^th Century Monk

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Krissy's Second Visit

Youthful footsteps echoed throughout the store's frozen section. It is not often a challenge to determine one's age from footsteps. The slow, stumbling walk of an old man, and the tap of his walker or cane, gives him away immediately. A hop and a skip might reveal that one is a child. But in the ages between 12 and 60, there is a singular type of step, one which is not easily linked to age due to the variance in height and weight of the teenage and adult population. In the cold of the frozen section, this uniformity was slimmed even further, because nothing leeches strength from the heart and legs like cold. But in the footsteps of the confident young girl who wore a Sun Valley uniform, one could sense her youthfulness. The cold didn't touch her and she wasn't afraid of it or hateful of it. And so perhaps it was the youthfulness of her step that revealed to the mysterious figure known as the Blue Phantom who it was who came to visit him, in his hidden lair behin...

Memories

When our childhoods come back, the natural problems of memory distort the image to make it wrong . Think of how many nostalgic memories you have that you know, deep down, didn't happen the way you remember. Maybe it's one lie you told yourself. Maybe three or four. Maybe the whole thing is made up. I don't blame you. I had a good childhood but if all that people have of your own is a fantasy then all I can offer is a hope that your abuser, whether they're a person or a system, dies and burns in Hell. I have lived my life so focused on nostalgia that my day-to-day living has become full of holes in the present, just as there are holes all throughout my past. The future, that sea of infinite possible timelines, is probably nothing more than a Sea of Holes. And here we have the first personal node— Yellow Submarine was the movie I watched the most growing up. I had an LSD-soaked childhood and it braced me for a similar adulthood. The hippies who were the firs...

Horriblis vs. Ab-Horriblis

She didn't make it. On the road trip, that was to say. She sighed and thought about her next chance. Midori wasn't the self-pitying kind. She grieved her lost vacation—again—and got ready to go back up over the top. One day she'd get a chance to relax and solve mysteries. For now, she had to get to keeping the books. She'd been promoted—quite against her will—and now she ran coupons and drawers in the back office. She never got to see this place in any detail before, but now she could see she wasn't missing much. A dry and dusty room, this was—and little else. She reached up to where they kept the SOP manuals. Ugh—that was dusty too. Too dusty, in fact—she hoped this would be up-to-date with their tech. Huh. This wasn't an SOP manual. Unless “Horriblis” had something to do with Sun Valley. She'd never heard of a product by that name, in any case. Nor did she recognize the author. There was no “Angelo” here. Oh well. She set it asi...

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