DazedPuckBunny (joined over 11 years ago)
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Twitchy lady who is addicted to tea and writing. That pretty much sums me up. :)

I'm a bit overly friendly, maybe creepily so, but that's okay. I refuse to apologize.

Track me down at: http://ceemartinez.blogspot.com



In 1921, he flew from the Great Rift Valley. That was the foundation of his reputation. Whispered, announced, stated, introduced, it always provided a collective puckering of lips, a breathing of "oohs" and then sips of champagne as fingers were taken into hand, and warm, hearty pats on the back offered. What a way to enter a party, what a ticket into every party!

He never tired of these parties, the compliments on his swarthy, sun embraced flesh, and the women who plucked at his sleeves and asked what it was like up there, racing against clouds. A man could...

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She was the most delicate girl in town. I liked to think of her as something made out of matchsticks, and knobby joints. Her voice, it never seemed to mature, even as she stretched into a teenager, and curves set in, she would still skitter on her toes, and wring her hands, and never make eye contact.

The crush I developed on her was no not so unusual, I think the whole town was in love with her in their own way, male, female, child, animal. Girls like that aren't meant to last if you think about it. Those quiet...

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When I opened my eyes the image faded, something from a dream. The waves were pink, lapping against the beach and around my ankles. The pink was tinged with pale green, and the forms in the distance, all of them waist deep in the water were the last to delete from my waking memories.

I only remember one of the forms with clarity. One shoulder higher than the other, arms dangling at the sides, a feeble attempt to wave with the shorter arm.

There were tears in my eyes, and I ran my fingers through my hair, and I...

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"I has a bus! I iz in it!"--written in black sharpie on the pink paper. The torn end of it soft and frayed, the grocery list on the back now outraged with the bleedthrough of the ink.

"Wait, shouldn't it be like, E-E-N E-E-T?" Linda said, her glasses dangling just off her bottom lip.

"Wait, what?" Sarah replied, she stared hard at the pink paper, not wanting to look at Linda or her stupid retro horn rim super thick shiny blue metallic glasses hanging from her lips. She knew Linda thought that looked cute but it just looked gross and...

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100 feet away--it completely wrecks you.

I never loved you. I always didn't like you. Sometimes, I really feel bad for you. Usually you just pissed me off.

I've never met anyone with the need you have to stand so close to things. I got in trouble because I bruised your arm when I pulled you back from the campfire and you screamed as you looked at your burned widdle nose in the mirror. I didn't even feel bad when your lost the tips of three of your fingers when you stuck your hand into the tiger cage. (I didn't...

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I couldn't sleep with her next to me.

It's one thing to want to be a bigger man. It's completely different to assume that you are.

My life thus far, untainted by ill temper, prejudice, greed, even religion, had ensconsed me, rolled me out to greet the world. I was the man who fought for the powerless, from the playground to the courtroom. I was the man on the covers of the local newspaper, the man who shocked the nation when my pale hand, wrapped in the dark grip of a powerless woman was held aloft.

I would die for...

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It was the fall that surprised me most.

Helping is the one thing I always thought I was best at. Hearing thank you is one of the things I'd actually pay money for; in fact I do, because I never click that box on my tax forms that would get me paid back for donations. Although, come to think of it, I could have clicked that box and then used to money paid back to donate somewhere else. I'll have to look into that, if I ever have money again.

It started with a smile. I'm a sucker for a...

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The last time she'd seen pink butterflies, she'd burned down the church.

She told them the headphones helped with the hallucinations.

She lied.

Dr. Weber had first suggested the headphones, and he'd told her to compile a playlist and to choose the songs based on certain lyrics and words, and to use those lyrics and words as cues to control the hallucinations. If she couldn't completely erase them now, she could at least learn how to hold them back, get that subconscious moving until the scary ones became mildly disturbing and then from there they would lower in degree until...

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Daring to be noticed for the first time in her life, she pushed her chair back and stood up.

Mrs. Baer had not picked her for the reading group, but that didn't matter, because it didn't mean she wasn't good enough, it just meant that Mrs. Baer didn't KNOW how well she could read! Mom would say it, loud and clear Emily could hear it in her head, "If you'd just made yourself noticed, Emily, then you would not have been ignored!" This is what Mom always told both of her older sisters when they became too meek.

"You get...

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Marilyn's breath felt thick, like syrup in her throat and coating her tongue, she'd run so far already, and she didn't care that she could barely breathe as a result of it. The alley was empty, the pavement clattering hollowly under her soft sandals, and the sweat coating her palm loosened at the string of the balloon she held until it slipped and ascended, quickly snagging against a fire escape and popping.

Marilyn laughed, stopped running and stared up at the remainings of the balloon, the silver string winking in a dart of sunlight, the torn rubber fragments dangling from...

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