Do you still remember our nights? How we used to walk back home at night, crossing almost the entire city? How, once in a while, we would stop to look at the stars and wonder? Remember how alive, how real we felt during those nights?

Do you still remember how, be it a good or a bad day, we always had each other's back? How you fell into my arms when you felt miserable, and how dearly we embraced each other? How you always supported and believed in me when nobody else did, not even me?

Remember how, during our nights, we danced and laughed in the freedom of the empty streets, feeling free to act however we pleased? In those nights, we were far away from the worries of the day, from the expectations, from the preying eyes filled with prejudice and hate.

Do you still remember those nights? Do you still remember me? Because I do. Because I never went anywhere.

You've moved away and you've moved on, and I can't blame you, really. I guess it's just a part of growing up. But I wish we never did.

Even though you have left and forgotten me, seldom remembering me as a childish make-believe, I have never left or forgotten you. All those years later I'm still here, in the back of your head, waiting to catch you with my arms wide open.

Always cherishing our nights back home.

tin foil attire foils

electromagnetic spies

paranoia chic

...

9/4/2024

*author's note:

I try very hard not to use names, usually opting for pronouns only, in the hopes that in that broad generality readers can find something of themselves or their compatriots therein, or better relate on a human level, then they might, if the story were of some particular Harry or Isaabella.

If a name is absolutely essential, I look for something related to the key themes of the story, either by sound or by association.

09/04/2024

Who? challenge @Last

The day I found a moment

That had escaped the flow of time,

I chased it, in wonder and scrutiny.

What I found was a story, a whole life instead.

There was joy, and there was sorrow

And a promise for all of eternity.

And so every passing instant

Makes us laugh, makes us cry.

It's full of certain uncertainty.

The day I found an ounce of self-respect, something that had been lost, sequestered in the junk drawer of my soul, was when I knew it was time to be free from my dependency.

This year I vow to shed my lifelong addiction to Thanksgiving leftovers. I can do it by myself and without a prolonged delay. So, on November 29th, I’m gonna quit…cold turkey.

The day I found a weathered journal in the attic, its cracked leather and yellowed pages revealed a 1923 entry about uncovering a hidden truth. Inside were sketches, symbols, and a faded town map marked with an X beneath the old clock tower. Remembering a childhood story of a secret room there, I felt a strong urge to uncover the long-buried mystery.

Lily and Max were always the curious type, constantly seeking new adventures and experiences. At ages 10 and 8 respectively, the siblings had an insatiable appetite for knowledge about the natural world. Their bedroom walls were adorned with posters of various insects, and they spent countless hours in their backyard, observing ants, butterflies, and beetles.

One fateful summer evening, as they lay in their bunk beds, a shooting star streaked across the night sky. In unison, they whispered a wish: "I wonder what it would be like to be a grasshopper!"

Little did they know that sometimes, wishes do come true – but not always in the way we expect.

The next morning, Lily and Max awoke to find themselves in a strange new world. Gone were their cozy beds and familiar surroundings. Instead, they found themselves in a vast, well-lit space with walls of glass. As their compound eyes adjusted to their new reality, they realized with a mix of shock and excitement that they had been transformed into grasshoppers!

Their new home was a 10-gallon tank, thoughtfully prepared by some unseen caretaker. Lush green leaves and twigs created a miniature forest for them to explore. A small, shallow dish held fresh water, its surface glistening under the warm light that bathed their enclosure.

At first, the siblings were overwhelmed by their transformation. Their bodies felt alien – six legs instead of two, wings they didn't quite know how to control, and antennae that seemed to have a mind of their own. But as the initial shock wore off, their innate curiosity took over.

Lily, now a sleek green grasshopper with delicate wings, was the first to test out her new form. She tentatively flexed her powerful hind legs and found herself catapulted into the air. After a moment of panic, she realized she could control her descent with her wings, gliding gracefully back to the ground.

Max, sporting a brown exoskeleton with intricate patterns, watched his sister's flight with awe before attempting his own jump. His first few tries ended in awkward tumbles, but soon he too was leaping and gliding with ease.

As days turned into weeks, Lily and Max adapted to their new lives as grasshoppers. They discovered the joy of using their mandibles to nibble on the variety of plants provided for them – tender lettuce leaves, crunchy carrot tops, and sweet apple slices. They never went hungry, and the constant supply of fresh food and water meant they didn't have to worry about survival like their wild counterparts.

Their tank was a paradise free from predators. No birds swooped down to snatch them mid-jump, no frogs lay in wait with sticky tongues ready to strike. This safety allowed them to fully embrace their new existence without fear.

As they explored every nook and cranny of their enclosed world, Lily and Max began to appreciate the finer details of their grasshopper bodies. They learned to use their antennae to sense vibrations and smells, opening up a whole new way of perceiving their environment. They discovered they could communicate through a series of chirps produced by rubbing their legs against their wings – a talent that provided endless entertainment.

Weeks turned into months, and months into years. Free from the dangers that typically cut short a grasshopper's life, Lily and Max found themselves growing old together in their protected habitat. Their once-vibrant exoskeletons faded slightly, and their jumps became a little less sprightly, but their curiosity and zest for life remained unchanged.

As they aged, they often reminisced about their human lives. They missed their parents, their friends, and the wide world beyond the glass walls. But they also recognized the unique gift they had been given – a chance to experience life from an entirely different perspective.

They spent their days in various pursuits. Sometimes they would have jumping contests, seeing who could reach the highest branch of their miniature forest. Other times, they would compose chirping symphonies, their leg-against-wing music filling their small world with joyous noise.

One of their favorite pastimes was observing the world outside their tank. From their elevated vantage point, they could see into the room beyond – a child's bedroom, not unlike the one they once shared. They watched as a young girl tended to them, carefully cleaning their tank and providing fresh food and water. They saw her grow from a child into a teenager, always maintaining her fascination with the two unusually long-lived grasshoppers.

As the years passed, Lily and Max pondered the nature of their transformation. Was it truly magic? A dream? Some sort of cosmic accident? They never found the answers, but they learned to accept and embrace their unique situation.

Their extended lifespan allowed them to witness the changing of seasons through the bedroom window countless times. They saw snowflakes fall and cherry blossoms bloom, all from the comfort of their climate-controlled habitat.

In quiet moments, when the lights were dim and the house was still, Lily and Max would snuggle close on a favored leaf and talk about the meaning of it all. They had experienced something extraordinary – a complete transformation of their very being. They had gained a profound appreciation for the small wonders of the world, the kind that often go unnoticed by human eyes.

As they approached the end of their extended grasshopper lives, Lily and Max felt a deep sense of contentment. They had lived an existence unlike any other, bridging the gap between human and insect. They had learned patience, gained a new perspective on the world, and experienced the joy of simple things – a drop of fresh water, a tender leaf, the warmth of light on their wings.

In their final days, as they rested more and jumped less, Lily and Max reflected on their incredible journey. They had wished to know what it was like to be grasshoppers, and their wish had been granted in the most unexpected and thorough way possible. They had not just observed the life of grasshoppers – they had lived it, breath by breath, chirp by chirp.

As they felt their energy waning, Lily and Max huddled together on their favorite twig. With their antennae gently touching, they chirped softly to each other, their own private way of saying "I love you." And as they drifted off into their final sleep, they felt truly grateful for the extraordinary adventure they had shared.

Their unique story came to an end, but the magic of their transformation and the lessons they had learned would live on, a testament to the wonder and mystery of life in all its forms.

Helplessness is a dagger, leaving behind the nastiest scars. Its trademark: dual edges, cutting everyone involved and killing them simultaneously, with nothing anybody can do about it. It’s uncalculated, irrational, and sporadic—the worst kind of killer. At least, that’s how it feels when you’re knee-deep in shit, wondering how you’re still alive and struggling to understand your life’s purpose. It’s misery on a plate, and you’re forbidden to leave the table until you’ve swallowed every last bite.

You may feel like you’re stuck in a relationship, drowning in debt, losing your mind, addicted to drugs, or a slave to alcohol. Maybe you’re jobless, carless, homeless, and feeling like a burden to those around you—or yourself. Helplessness is knowing you inevitably need help...

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