Crack in my back,

no slack.

Need something more,

to rend myself of this gore.

Pain is like rain,

coming down hard with no refrain.

My fingers run the edges as I trace,

the power of this frustrating brace.

With it, I walk and stand tall,

without, I am humped over, shallow and small.

Why, oh why, is life this way?

Please pain ... run, run, go away.

But it won't, just my luck,

and my every day is like ... what the f*ck.

(and yes ... the picture is a straightjacket,

not a postureizer)

realignment

transfigure your spine blithely

overhaul by sex

! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Of all the challenges I have done on here here, this one is my craziest. So here it goes..........when I read what she said about the ad I can understand the response. The title sounds like a toy older people would use for sex if the are going into a slight Parkerson's disease state. But when I go to the site it looks like a ba backpac without the pac just straps. In conclusion, I never knew this was a real problem, and when it comes to sex, I dont want a tool to correct anything, the mission is to end up like a chinese jigsaw puzzzle at any age.

Hannah dug into the pile to the left of her under the watchful gaze of her neighbor. Janice had unwillingly decided to accept help to get her house clean so her landlord wouldn't evict her, but she made it very clear that she didn't trust Hannah. Hannah, though she was annoyed and wanted to just go home, had only agreed to help because she wanted to stop having Janice ask her to hold her belongings. Now, the two women were looking at their first pile of crap of many in Janice's home. Hannah grabbed a shirt and pulled, much to Janice's dismay.

"Be careful with that! You'll stretch it."

"Don't worry; I've got this."

Hanna pulled out the shirt and looked skeptically at it. Unlike a regular shirt, it had a metal rod down the spine of it and two leather straps inside of it.

"What the hell is this?"

"Give me that!" Janice grabbed for it but Hannah pulled it away and wandered a few steps away to inspect it.

After a few seconds of her turning the garment over in her hands, Hannah began to laugh.

"You bought a posture corrector?"

"It was for a date!" Janice yelled.

She snatched the shirt away and pressed the wrinkles out with her hands. Hannah was still laughing.

"Could he not tell?"

"Shut up!" Janice yelled. She was on the brink of tears.

"What else did you buy from QVC? Do you have a Trumpy Bear too?" Hannah cackled.

Janice was yelling, but Hannah was too busy laughing. Janice lunged at her, and Hannah stepped back to avoid her, only to succeed in falling in the trash that Janice had filled the walkway with. Hannah tried to stand, noticed a teddy bear with flopping orange hair and just laughed harder, despite Janice's tearful screams for her to get out of of her house.

Imagination ran away

Hours upon hours

Devin didn’t want anything

He’d had eons to forget.

When he opened a door

A flash

The moments passed.

Now, he was too absorbed in thought.

Crazy, screwed-up.

@JulianRace. Thank you!

I am so sorry, Hector.

For not buying you a Posture Corrector.

I saved up for months.

Had garage sales.

Put up a Lemonade stand.

I even sold myself.

But, in the end it was not enough.

And neither am I.

Goodbye, Hector.

You are a good man.

You deserve a soulmate who can provide for you that which I cannot.

I may one day return home with a Posture Corrector. I may die trying to obtain one.

But, in the end, don't you forget, you are worth the pursuit.

-a letter found in the pocket of a decapitated confederate soldier, musket still in hand, at the Siege of Vicksburg, July 2, 1863.