The screaming and gunfire were deafening. The smell of blood, dust sweat and burning human flesh was overwhelming. Down the sight of my scope I saw the subhuman filth running across the street. Explosions surrounded me and a few times some very lucky shots landed in the concrete wall next to my head spitting up dust and rubble; still I didn't move.

"Convoy moving up the east end," Jack, my spotter, whispered as another lucky bullet whizzed overhead. "Damn it," he hissed. "Will you please kill that stronzo?"

I found said stronzo on top of a building down the alleyway with binoculars looking in our direction. He knew we were here somewhere but hadn't found us yet. I breathed out and squeezed the trigger just as he pinpointed us, dropped the binoculars and began pulling up his AK. His eyes narrow, a look of pure hate distorting his face as my bullet ripped into him, blowing out his lower thoracic vertebrae just blow his sternum.

"Target down…" the voices and sounds were fading. "RPGs spotted…"


I opened my eyes and knew I was home. Rose, a German shepherd pit-bull mix had her nose pressed to mine. I sat up in bed and she pushed herself into my chest. I could still smell the blood and dust and burning human flesh. I could still hear the bullets next to my head. I could still see every person I killed. Rose licked my chin and I stood up, shaking my head to dislodge the memories. The house was dark and quiet as I silently made my way to the master bedroom.

The full moon light poured into the bedroom, bathing the king-size bed in mercurial light. I sat on the floor, leaning back against the bedside; Rose snuggled into my lap and sighed. I reached under the covers and grasped my mother's hand, slowly extracted it and rest it on top of my head.

"Are you okay?" Mother asked in a soft, barely audible whisper.

"I'm okay, go back to sleep."

She stroked my hair absently, chasing away the memories and keeping them all at bay.


I swear I have the strangest nightmares sometimes. But sometimes I really don't know what's worse: These types of dreams or the ones with the demons in them.


Mom was wrapping presents, sitting in her recliner and watching television. The day had passed and I was exhausted and sprawled on the couch beside her and slowly beginning to nod off. I was standing in a field; the sun was setting, casting the world around me in shades of orange and red. The breeze was hot and stank of sulfur making me turn to look behind me. Tall, black, void of definition and seething with malice, the demons were grinning, their eyes were just white circles, their grinning mouths glowing blood red and fire with serrated shark teeth. I was paralyzed as one reached out and stroked my hair back out of my eyes.

I jolted awake, nearly falling off the couch and mom was watching me.

"What happened?" She asked. "Your hair was moving back while you slept."

I stood up, still shaky and began to tell her what I saw, and standing there I fell asleep again and was back on the field, the demon reaching out to stroke my hair again.

I opened my eyes, really awake- in my casita, Ahriman looking at me before putting his head back down and going to sleep again.


In the sniper dream, it wasn't me; it was a young man who looked far too young to be in war. It always seems to be that way, the dreams like that is liking I am following some guy around. But in the demon dreams, or the dreams where I am alone in a huge empty city, those are me. I don't know why it is like that, but I suppose those are the ways that dreams work.

It is interesting to see the dogs dream too, their legs twitching like they are running, and little whispered woofs and growls. Last night I even heard Ahriman suckling and Artemis wagged her tail, I never saw a tail wag in their sleep. Even Blaze twitches and mewls sometimes.

It brings back a memory of my ex-husband. We were asleep when he lashed out and I woke up. He was turning back and forth and grumbling. I asked softly what he was doing and he answered "Trying to catch Boo."

"Why are you trying to catch Boo?" I asked.

"To eat him." He answered then smiled. "Caught him."

Baffled I asked "And what does Boo taste like?"

"Strawberry ice cream."

I actually had to walk out of the room so I could laugh. I think it was around that time too, or maybe a few months later, I woke up before him because I had to get to work at 6:30. I got up, got ready and went back to the bed to grab my shoes when I heard a whimper. I looked over at him and he was reaching out patting the empty bed and whimpering more. I put out my hand and he grabbed it, pulling me down and wrapping himself around me in a death grip. I struggled and said I had to go to work and he just shook his head and said no. It was so cute, and I was really late to work.


Not all of those memories are so bad. But still they make me a little sad. Time to move away from romance books and movies for a while; really don't want to be depressed right now. But even thinking about it logically doesn't help: I just started my second to last term; I have no idea what is going to happen at the end of school- if I am going to remain in New Mexico or if I will be leaving to find a job in another state. Since I have Capstone this term and next term I really can't afford any type of distraction- I need to graduate with honors and the people that I am just seeing will be more than enough stress- if not more stress than I can handle since some of them are just so damn demanding of my time.

And Jesse is right, just being with people for a day or two, one date or two, is lonely. But I still maintain that I am single and being with them is better than being alone 100% of the time. Why should I carry on seeing them if I already know that they are not what I am looking for? He says sometimes it takes more than a couple of time to really get to know someone, and okay I can kind of see that, but still… torn between I don't really want anything serious, but I am lonely right now, I am looking for my soul mate-and believing that they don't exist.


Okay… need to step back and focus on something else. Inventory, warehouse, or economics homework… I hate being in a funk like this.


To days to come,

     All my love to long ago.




It's been a while since I've written anything; but life is like that. The September term just ended and December term is about to begin. This last term is the closest I have ever gotten to just walking out of ITT. They charge far too much money for sun par education and instructors who are mostly steaming piles of worthless shit!! Granted there are some instructors who go above and beyond what is called of them and they really do care about their students and really do help. I know they exist because I've had them as instructors. In fact it is because of one of these great instructors that I am still at ITT. In the last term of my associates my friend was having a really hard time with life and school and when I helped him out he messed up in a big way. Our case was thrown before the board and we were nearly kicked out but this one instructor stood up in our defense and with support of another instructor we were forgiven and heavily lectured. We didn't even know how much trouble we were in until this instructor said something. It scared me, but at the same time made me so happy that he stood up for us. For the longest time I always made it a point, when discussion of me going back to school came up, that I made the decision to go back because I was ready and that I was doing this strictly for myself and not for anyone else's benefit. The first couple of times I tried to go to college I wasn't ready, I was just trying to get people off my back and I ended up dropping out. So when I was finally ready (took a divorce, a drinking problem and a long time to claw my way out of the bottle again) I felt good about going to school. I chose ITT because I can't learn in big classes, and I need a lot of hands-on training. I chose Drafting and Design and Project Management because of the minute detail that must go into these career fields and because technology and me just don't get along. And for the first few years, yeah sure, there were some fucked up instructors but they were mostly good and I learned a lot.

But this last term was different. KRB never graded the homework and so no one did it. When it was about 2 weeks from the end of the term he said everyone was failing the class because no one was turning in work. At the end of the class (not many people got all the work turned in and I know I certainly didn't) he handed back grade reports (which we are supposed to be getting every week)  and I noticed that 85% of those assignments that I KNOW I didn't turn in I have grades for – A's, B's and C's. I made it out of that class with a B. Now, on one hand I am happy: We killed on the Project and while I had to teach myself everything about Risk Management because he's a shit instructor who can't teach for shit, I still learned a lot. The text books were good and the websites I found to help me with project turned out to be excellent supporting material. But it pissed me off that that SOB didn't grade the work, didn't lecture thoroughly, didn't make real world application and while I am paying them to attend their school they are trying to impose on the students a strict full allotted time with the consequence of failure to attend class if you leave early. Class was from 6pm to 1030pm. I work from 9:00am to 5:30pm on class days plus have other classes that I have homework for and need to study. If I am done with one class by 8:30pm why the hell are you doing to detain me? You are wasting my time and pissing me off.

Anyways… ITT has gone to shit. And this term I very nearly left. But I am not just going for myself anymore. I owe it to the instructor who stood up for me and my friend. He put his job on the line by defending us, he stood up for us and for that, I need to finish this degree with better marks than I am getting. Back in high school I only made C's, D's and F's. I hated school and my parents thought I was going to be the same way in college, it makes logical sense. So they didn't want me to attend ITT (so much money and such a back track history) but I have been attending ITT since September 2008 and to date I only have 4 C's. Everything else is A's and B's. 4 C's out of 39 classes.


Ok, enough bitchin' about ITT. I rescued a kitten back in November, cute little bloke. Near death, cold, starving, fleas… I got him cleaned up, fed, and when he didn't die that night (or the following nights) I got him into to see the vet. Cleared out my bank account (damnit) but got him medicine and all healed up. The dogs just loved him, and he was a great kitty. Well, he left this morning with G… Went to his forever home and while I am glad he went to a great home (and I can go see him still) it's just sad. I adopted Jack and gave him away- saving him from the gas chamber. Critter was saved and given away to a family who lost a member to the war. Now Tidbit… ah well. I am deadbeat tired. Alarm went off at 0530, Vic left at 630, and I never went back to sleep. I am so tired and class with KRB tonight is until 1030pm…

At least I had a good lunch- Molto Bene!


Cazzo- computer problems.


I wanna nap.


To days to come,

            All my love to long ago




So a couple of weekends ago my mom gave Brobro a CD with classical music and he said “Oh, Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture.” I chimed in saying I love that song and mom grabbed the CD back and said he could take the rest but she wanted to hear that now. I told her it was a great song, it ended so perfectly and Brobro said it wasn’t in the end, it was in the middle! So that leads to today, listening to music on my iPod as I wait for my girlfriend to bring my phone to me so I can watch Doctor Who and I came across the 1812 Overture, I knew I had it!!! So I am listening to it and just as it ends with a bang my brother walks in and I turn it up for him. As we were listening to it I said “I know V for Vendetta used this song, but even before that movie, this whole crescendo always made me happy and giddy and I just don’t know why.”
“That’s probably because of the firework show we went to when we were young in DC.” I looked at him curiously and he nodded. “Yeah, mom and dad took us to a firework show in DC and you know at the end when they have the huge showcase? Well they used this song and you were bouncy happy.”

I don’t remember ever seeing Fireworks in Washington DC, but then again my memory isn’t the best in the world. But I can totally see me holding onto that song because of fireworks, I love fireworks as long as they are not directly above me. They are so spectacular to watch!

Anyways, another nightmare last night, I don’t remember much from it, but I distinctly remember Ahriman died. It was so real- aren’t they all- that when I woke up I grabbed Artemis and buddle with her and when I felt movement behind me I was so ecstatic to see Ahriman that I turned around and cuddled with him. Hope that didn’t hurt Artie’s feelings, but I was just so happy, and he was happy, I fell back asleep with his tail thumping against my knee.

Yesterday after work I went to go see Webby and her kids, I left my phone at their place, >.< imma dweeb that way, and so this morning I was so paranoid of not waking up in time I kept waking up and going back to sleep. I think I must have slept wrong at one point because my shoulder is just killing me. Wrist, elbow, shoulder, back, legs… maybe it’s just easier to say what doesn’t hurt really.

I learned a card trick yesterday. I want to learn the 4 Kings trick, lots of tricks I want to learn. ^__^

So I got my phone, got my rent, got my lunch and am just in so much pain!! I think I’ll stop by Wal-Mart on my way home and grab me some cherry juice and walnuts. It at least the walnuts because those help lubricate joints and I think that might be where all my pain is located at right now. LOL I was talking with my coworker and he said “You should just get into a padded cell, then you couldn’t hurt yourself…” trailed off thinking for a moment then shook his head. “No, never mind, you’d still find a way to hurt yourself wouldn’t you? Might as well have fun doing it.”

Yeah that’s me, every day I hurt myself- not intentionally mind you, just scrapes, bumps, bruises, knocking my arms, knees, stubbing my toes. Hell it’s not even always my fault! The other morning I got kicked in the face when Ahriman was running in his sleep and Artie has head butted me a few times while rolling back onto her feet! ^_^ She sleeps on her back, legs up, tongue out and snores! And is a pillow hog.

But anyways, I need to start writing again, just been so uninspired lately. And still fussing with the idea of apologizing- I do not believe in apologizing if you do not mean it, and I don’t regret what I said. I regret saying it when they all thought I was drunk… Well, it is my fault; for drinking, for stopping, and for not finding someone else to come pick me up. I know who to stay away from when I drink, but that night, I just couldn’t think of anyone else to come get me, and normally I would just wait in a park or somewhere until I either sobered up, or the bad vibe goes away- but that night…. Again, don’t regret what I said, I meant every fucking word of it.

To days to come,


girlfriends, boyfriends, cooking and kids

That's Paulie and Ayden on a vlog. Love Ayden, he's just so adorable! Logan is great too, Logan is 6 and today has to be one of the best memories I have thus far!! So Logan, Paulie and Webs and I are outside after dinner, kicking back some drinks, jamming to some tunes and playing with a spanish frisbee- really fucking cool -and Logan runs into the rocks to grab the disc and hops back saying he's got a rock on his foot and reaches down to pull it out only to reveal a goatheat- instantly busts out crying! I was trying so hard not to laugh but jesus it was funny! Was hopping around for like 30 seconds before crying! At least it got him to realize that's why mommy and daddy say "wear youre shoes outside!" Ah well, it was a fun night, Paulie made dinner tonight, Webs is looking a lot better from the other night when she was sick (as in yesterday) she's still not 100% but still. I read Logan his bed time story, told him about Doctors in the 15th century and about my necklace before putting him to bed. It was a great night, and tomorrow i'm taking them hiking (Paulie and Logan) at whitewash.

This has been the best Saturday I've had in such a long time. So many times I had to keep reminding myself it was only Saturday. I love this. But now, lime ice cream, Full Metal Alchemist and then bed time. Long day tomorrow, and I can't wait to start it!

to days to come



Even though they tip over the garbage can, chew on shoes, shed like there’s no tomorrow and drool all over my nice work clothes (when I dare to bring them out) I have to say that owning dogs is a great blessing. Mainly for the things they don’t even know they are doing.

This morning about 2:45 I heard gun fire and explosions, I jolted awake into the deafening silence, daring not to move, not to breath for fear of being shot- but the fear quickly abated when I noticed the dogs. Still asleep, snoring, whimpering- Artie, or muffled barking- Ahriman. I felt my heart racing, could feel a cold sweat and I shivered. A dream then… As long as they don’t freak out, I won’t freak out- barring bad nightmares. I still get chills when I think about that nightmare with Volpe, and every time I see him around the work building I smile- yeah sure he’s handsome- always did have a thing for redheads- but it’s just good to know he’s still alive. What’s worse- waking up screaming or crying, or waking up and having to tell yourself for hours “it’s only a dream, it was only a dream, everything is going to be okay.”

Give me gunfire, explosions and beheadings any day.

But anyways, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything. You’d think with these many nightmares it’d be a bit easier, Owl Woman sure thinks it would be. Maybe I’ll find an inspiring prompt today- maybe… maybe I should just work on my homework ^__^ it’s due final draft tonight, and I won’t have much time at work to work on it. Leaving at 3 to go get Logan from school today.

My motorcycle is finally ready, now I am just waiting for AC to write up my bill, then Paulie is giving me a ride out to get my baby.

To days to come,



Have you ever closed your eyes and fallen into REM sleep so fast that when you jolt awake- still paralyzed, freaking out, you could swear on whatever is dear to you that you were asleep for hours and hours and just want to be awake now... only to find out it's only been about 15 minutes?

I was standing in the dark, pitch black, the absolute absence of light. Someone screamed and I felt a cold chill run up my spine. I stood stock still, my heart racing, so loud I was afraid whoever was out there could hear it pounding against my chest. Every cell in my body was screaming- Run! RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE! So loudly that maybe it was someone actually screaming it.... and still, I stood still. Was I paralyzed with fear? Was I afraid that 'they' would know my location if I moved? Was I waiting to see how things played out? Another scream, this one louder, closer. Whatever it was it was closing in. I could hear foot steps, but even they sounded weird. It wasn't a bipedal coming after me, it has four distinct footsteps, muted, but still so distinctive. Like a hardpad dog on tile, and from the sound this creature was big- and I am not talking great dane or mastiff or wolf big... This sounded like a hound from hell- and though it's still black, in my mind I can see the pitch black creature with eyes so full of hell they drip fire and set the ground alight. With breath so rank of death and fire and brimstone that it scalded the flesh from the bone. With nails that click individually on the floor with every footstep: tap-tap-tap-tap... tap-tap-tap-tap.... tap-tap-tap-tap.... tap-tap-tap-tap... it's getting closer, I feel it. My soul is screaming, my mind rebels and finally I rush away taking a step in a direction I think is open and clear- only to feel the hard body of this hellhound, it's breath on my neck, burning, searing- I scream and...

jolt awake, fall out of bed.

fuck. I hate these nights.

ooh, afterthought-
and i hate that i dont remember where i got this:
"Razors pain you,
rivers are damp,
acid stains you,
and drugs give you cramps,
Guns aren't lawful,
nooses gives,
gas smells aweful,
you might as well live."


Thoughts- on bearing the soul

That’s what I see you know, in the center of it all- a small child, sitting on a large chair, not daring to move off the chair because it is safe on the chair. The child cannot get into trouble if stays on the chair, the child cannot fuck up, or mess shit up if it just stays on the chair. No one will make fun of the child if it just stays there, on the chair, hiding from everyone because no one can see it now. No one can yell at the child, tell it what it’s messing up again, saying it’s fucking up its life, or always doing it wrong, making so many mistakes, that it’ll never learn… That’s what’s there. In the middle of all the facades, under all the smiles, and the jokes, and the fake apathy. It’s a fucking little child, sitting on a chair, so afraid to get off the chair for fear is doing it wrong, for fear of falling- because no one has ever been there to help the child up, and the child thinks- why would they? No one will ever help a fuck up, no one ever has helped me, and no one ever will- why would they? And you don't want to see that terrified little thing because though you know logically that it's not true, the fear is paralyzing, the fear makes your breath hitch in your throat and makes you gasp. So you keep busy, piling on as much as you can get a hold of just to make sure you're left with no free time to even glimpse at that tiny little horror crying in the core of your soul- but you took on too much, and you begin to lose your grip- and you fail. You mess up. You fucked up again. Why can't you do the simplest fucking thing right?! And it's something so simple that you messed up- burnt the dinner, spilled the milk, broke a ceramic bowl- and you begin to tear up, begin to cry, and at first you don't know why you're crying. But you're boarding hysterical, you can't stop crying and then you hear it- gasping for breath, cowering, trembling, shielding itself from invisible blows that aren't coming but it expects it to. The little child, alone the chair, trying to be quiet, trying to shut up but it can't. It's revolting, but at the same time you want to hold it, coo and cuddle, 'shh, shhh, it'll be alright. I promise, this will be alright.' But it makes no difference, because the child cannot hear you. And you keep on crying.

Nightmares have a funny way of revealing themselves.
To days to come, 
                All my love to long ago.




I am thinking maybe I should feel a little bad about what I posted on LBs fb… but the truth is, I just can’t. “An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind” but sometimes it’s the only way for people to open their fucking eyes and change! Oh that’s mean… ah well, it’s true. People don’t really change when they don’t think everything is okay, it’s only when they are on the precipice of losing everything  that they find the will the change. Or logic to change. Of course that also contradicts what I believe- and that is that everyone is changing all the time. Every choice you make, every path you take changes you and makes you into someone you were not before. People say they don’t want to change but everyday they are changing; it’s just not always the right way to be changing. And I think that's the point.

What LB posted: “Not really caring if I piss you off or hurt your feelings today. I. Just. Don’t. Care.” To which Erin (LB’s ex gf) said “Have I ever told you that you’re SEXAY when you are angry? Lol!!!!” to which Vernon (LB’s current gf) said “Love the status… not the comment…” and here’s where I get myself into trouble “Which comment? That’s shes sexy when shes angry?... well… she is. And frustrated… that’s a sexy look on her… and giggly. She’s rarely giggly but that’s a golden moment I love to see every so often!!”

LB texted earlier this morning saying “Apparently ur fb comment really upset sarah” and my initial response off the top of my head- thank god this was texting and not face to face- was ‘and? Your point is?’ … I am not jealous that LB is seeing someone, I’m happy when she’s happy, but this person, this Vernon is just grating my nerves. Personally I think out of everything I could have done this was harmless and true. LB is sexy, that’s just a commonly known factoid, and if Vernon wants to her panties in a twist because LB’s ex’s can still CLEARLY see she’s a sexy woman than that’s her fucking insecurities to deal with and get the fuck over because that fact will never fucking change!

oh that was mean… hmmm…

“She feels its overstepping bounds n felt it was really bad that u said that knowing she didn’t like erins comment. Disrespectful/spiteful? I dunno…”

All I want to say:
Little Bit, I don’t care if she didn’t like it, I seriously couldn’t even pretend to give a rats flying fucking ass about what she likes or doesn’t like! She lives with her best friend who is straight and is pining after her and every time you go over there she throws a temper tantrum like a fucking toddler- no that’s insulting toddlers because they have their own little ‘right’ to do that, what she does is just fling disrespect at you and everything you have with Paco! And Paco! Holy flying fuck how many times has Paco been with you but catering to her BF’s temper tantrums and texting or calling her WHILE WITH YOU!? This even pisses you off!! I have no respect for the fucking ginger and frankly couldn’t care less how goddamn insecure the little bitch is- and she is insecure. She will not let go of her BF’s hand but refuses to have anyone compliment you? That’s fucked up LB, and I don’t care what you say about it- It. Is. Fucked. UP! You are a fucking sexy woman and I don’t care who is offended by my agreeing with Erin on that fact. YOU ARE FUCKING SEXY… I can’t imagine anyone who knows you denying that. Inside and out, you are, and you always will be. And let her be damned for putting that ‘boundary’ up that no one can say it.

I won’t say that to her. I will not rescind what I previously said to her.
“If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothing at all.”
Or better yet…
“Sticks and stones,
as hard as bones,
aimed with angry art…
Words can hurt like anything,
but Silence breaks the heart…”

So silence it is.

To days to come,



(NOT MY PICTURE: this was sent to me in an email about the Wallow Fire in AZ)

It was a good weekend despite some potholes. Friday I wore a dress to work and everyone liked it, might make that a monthly thing. That night I went out for some drinks with Mike at Monte Vista Fire Station, one of my favorite bars, and it was nice. Once it began to get loud and crowded we left and decided to meet up at Billiard’s Palace, another favorite of mine, but Mike never made it. He texted, said he couldn’t find it and didn’t want to get a DWI so he went home. That was fine because as soon as I got there a cute- well, handsome, man who took over my tab. Peter, very nice. Made me feel good to be flirted with and then his friend Chris started flirting with me too. Made me wonder what would have happened if I had gone there in a dress and not grunge down into a vest and jeans. But we were all drinking, flirting, have a good ol’ time until Peter and I were getting ready to leave. Don’t know what sparked this but Chris takes a shot, I push Peter out of the way nearly get hit myself and shove Chris back. The bar owner, a small Armenian man, pulls Chris away from Peter and me and I drag Peter outside who is still completely oblivious as to what is happening. I later talked to Mary, the bartender, and asked what happened to make sure I didn’t owe anyone an apology but she assured me it was between Peter and Chris and that I just got in the way and tried to stop it. That sounds like me, I’m not a mean drinker, I am very happy and try to keep the surrounding area happy with me. I hate mean drinkers. But anyways-so Peter and I went to Taco Cabana, then back to my place and after some fun he left like all good toys should. It was a great, albeit dangerous, first couple of hours of my birthday. After some sleep, and a wicked hangover, I finally got up and started cleaning- which is all I wanted to do on my birthday was clean my casita. Started pulling everything out of the casita and piling it in the enclosed patio. Little Bit came over after going to Urgent Care for a bug bite or sting on her foot. She says Benadryl and other antihistamines never work for her and never make her tired- but this new medication made her giggly and giddy! She never giggles, but she’d just laugh and laugh and gasp for breath making these cute little hiccup sounds which made me laugh which made her laugh and it was just fantastic. Then she passed out. It was so cute.
She left when she woke up and after sunset I launched a flying lantern, I love those things, grabbed my laundry and went to the parents house with the dogs. Watched some Doctor Who and did most of my laundry. It was a good day, brobro called and left a message on my voicemail of him singing happy birthday, then my little sister called and sang to me as well. All in all I’d have to say that was the best birthday ever even with stupid Chris- which really is a pity because he was very handsome.


Sunday was good too, I got home from laundry about 3am, fell asleep about 4-430 and slept until 11am. Continued cleaning threw away a lot of trash, played pool, drank beer, played assassins creed brotherhood and went finally turned in about midnight. Couldn’t sleep, but the window was open and the fan was on so I was lying there with my face in the moonlight, the slight breeze on my skin and the only sound was the crickets chirping… it was nice. Still didn’t sleep much, I am so tired today but the moon on my face last night had me feeling like I was asleep outside, and it was fantastic.

Grades were posted, all A’s for me, and the new term starts this week, tomorrow for me. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday which I am happy about, no Saturday class for me! Have to get my bicycle rebuilt, my motorcycle fixed and I just bought a new light bulb for my headlight on my car. I should have bought 2 but didn’t have that much money. Ah well, anyways…

Artie sure puts up with a lot from me, the xmas hat is in my car, and then the Coyote pelt fits her nicely. Ahriman was watching me dress her up and I put it on him next. They are Old Man Coyote!!! ^__^

To days to come,



“I can’t believe you roped me into this Tony.” I hissed and pulled the camouflage uniform away from my neck.

“Sorry Kat, it seemed like a good idea at the time.” He whispered, his small frame shivering slightly as we crept down the hallway.

“Well, I was stupid enough to follow you.” I put my hand out to stop him, footsteps were getting closer and we quickly turned around and ducked into a small alcove as the footsteps turned another way and faded out. “Still,” I breathed a sigh of relief. “We need to get out of here now and away from this place.”

“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “The door should be thirty feet from here on the right.”

We stepped into the hallway again, ears straining to hear the smallest sound and we carefully picked our way to the door. Tony pulled a small bottle of WD-40 from his pocket and shot the hinges. We didn’t know if they’d creak or not but always better to be safe when hatching an escape plan.

The door opened without a sound and we slipped off into the twilight. Staying close to the back of the building with the intention of following the wall until we reached the southwest corner, then shimmy down the rock face into the ravine below, a small sprint along the river and into the forest where we would go our separate ways from there.

But as we reached the southwest corner there was a gathering of people and curiosity got the best of us. Tony walked ahead of me and starting chatting with someone about why they were all gathered there.

“The troops are marching off to war,” the stranger said eyeing our uniforms.

“We gotta get out of here,” I said but Tony sat down. I knew I should have left him there, but silly me, I stayed close by keeping an eye out as he chatted away with the stranger about the inner workings of this ‘army’.

“So when are they supposed to be marching out?” Tony asked finally but before the stranger could answer there was a thunderous cheer as the main gates of the compound opened  and the platoon marched out into the road heading our direction.

“Why the fuck do I wait for you?” I groaned and ducked behind a couple of chairs as the troop marched closer and closer. They stopped in front of the crowd, saluted, executed an abrupt about-face and stood in formation, their backs to us. The precision of the troop so perfect I could easily pick out which spaces Tony and I were suppose to be occupying. The leader, a sever looking woman in a black dressed and tight bun marched over to where Tony was sinking in his chair and she told him to get back into the formation. He jumped up and ran into his spot and as she turned to go she caught sight of me in the corner of her eye.

“Come along kitty-kat.” She purred violently and I followed her back to formation and took my spot. She smiled at me as the formation turned and we headed off to the ‘lodging house’ for the night.

I tried to keep close to Tony, our last escape plan didn’t work but our next one would. As people rushed around the lodging house getting ready for the night I was surprised to see no one turned on the lights. The house was cast in blue and black shadows and the roar of the troop was quickly toning down but no one was asleep, they were just disappearing.

Tony was called to Madame Leader’s room for a talk, he chuckled saying he was going to get a scolding for our escape attempt and handed me his Nintendo DS and left. A few minutes later I was called into her room and as I entered there the air felt thicker in my lungs.

She held out her hand. “Give it to me,” she said in a sharp voice. “I know he gave it to you.”

In my pocket I could feel my cell phone that Tony was able to get back to me after Madame Leader took it, and his DS. I handed her the DS and she took it looked it over and handed it back to me.

“Where is it?” She asked again. “I know he gave it to you Kitty.”

I looked around trying to figure out what she meant.

“He can’t help you now sweetie,” she smiled viciously. “He’s… sleeping… on the gurney next room over.” She chuckled when I took a step back.

“What do you want?” I asked… then woke up.


Strange dreams always, nightmares, but whatever. I have to remember to keep writing them down, maybe one day turn them into a novel or something. I tired to go back to bed a lot this morning, willing to be late to work, I desperately wanted to know why she needed me, what it was I was supposed to have. Why did she kill Tony, was everyone else dead? I tried and tried and tried but Artemis and Ahriman were having none of my snoozing they trampled me out of bed.
ah well

Arizona is on fire and the smoke is flooding into Albuquerque, choking the sky, making the sun a bloody mess and making the mountains vanish.

And brobro… “It reminded me of the sandstorms in Iraq”

Be well my brother.

To days to come,



I saw some reviews on a few places to drink:

Apothecary Louge:
not cheap, dress code, but located on top of a haunted old hospital! I badly want someone to go with me, dress up and just have a good time! Of course that means finding a dress... oh I do so ever LOVE playing pretend!!!

Charlie's Back Door:
cheap, dark, hole-in-the-wall place that boasts a Scottish/New Mexico theme. God I wanna go but I hate attending places alone.

I was thinking of taking the Dumb-dumb with me, but seriously, if I talk to him again I think I might sucker punch him into the next century. I don't wanna ask Little Bit, Bear is out of state, Dragonfly is busy, Little John will get the wrong impression, Henny's wife won't let him, Rabbit is depolyed, Buu is back in Callie... v.v

so I am thinking a Strictly Platonic post on CL.

I just want a drinking buddy!! Chat, text or whatever, but maininly..... Oh... I forgot about Princess Di... I wonder if she'd have the money to go with me because I sure as shit don't want to be paying for someone else's drinks- ya know, unless it was someone I cared about, which really is only about 2 or 3 people.

oh my tummy hurts.

and i've got homework to finish.


To days to come,


i dont know - Nightmares

She hugged herself against the cold chill that crept up her body though a warm wind swam past her.

"I don't want to hear it anymore." she said to the man following her.

He stopped, his red hair spiking up in the wind and he frowned. "But I'm here now," he pleaded. "I'm here, and I love you. I've always loved you, I knew I loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you." He smiled fondly at the memory. "You were lying there in my bed, curled up against a pillow, your body contorted in a way much like a cat that I assumed couldn't have been comfortable. You were beautiful, are beautiful, and I thought 'it's not right, it can't be true, the world doesn't stop spinning and time doesn't stop when you meet someone.' But it did when I saw you, and you had my heart. I brushed your hair away from your eyes as you slept, you turned into my touch and smiled, and at that moment you affectedly had my soul as well."

She shook with un-spilled tears, shaking her head to dislodge the memories from the past. "No, it's different now. You made your choice, you left and you can't come back."


"How do you think this feels for me!?" She spun around, venom in her voice aimed to kill and she thought briefly on exactly how thin the line was between love and hate. "Six years!" she hurled at him. "Six years with no word, with no contact with nothing! Six years and I was FINALLY forgetting the angles of your body, the softness of your hair, the feel of your lips against my own, the feel of your fingers-" she sobbed and turned away. "You left and I broke, and I've been trying so hard to fix myself."

"But..." he sighed. "But I'm here now." he licked his lips. "I'm here, and I... I love you. Isn't that enough?"

She snorted and curled her lips in a bitter upward motion. "It would have been," she turned enough for him to see her vicious smile. "But that was a long time ago." And warmed by her hate she left him standing in the dark.


"You can be a kind person sometimes, and a generous person sometimes.... but I've known you your whole life, and I've never known you to be a forgiving person."

Some days I wish to whatever g-d will listen that my nightmares just stay in the realm of demons, monsters, of wandering endlessly in the darkness or running through an empty city, or over the plains under a starless sky.... but these.... these i fear i am not strong enough to handly....

to days to come- all my love to long ago....



Ah goodness, it’s been a while since I’ve written. What a time it’s been. The casita is being built out, when it is finished I’ll post the pictures of its phases. Saturday was spent painting the casita build out and Sunday was spent hiking with my cousins- a well work out, but I made newbie mistakes and suffered for it. Every time I go hiking I always go off trail, so I always expect to come back battered, bruised and scraped, that’s nothing new. But stupidly I went in a skirt and because I couldn’t spread my legs enough to get a good grip on a boulder (wow my mind hit the gutter as soon as I typed that out) I lost my footing and my holding and I fell backwards. Caught myself on a edge but off centered and fell back down another ledge. Jarred my right leg and got a huge bruise on the bottom of my heel. Ouch. Then while stepping into water isn’t too bad, I didn’t dry my shoes out like I should have and ended up chaffing my big toe so bad I got 4 blister, 2 each at the base of both big toes!!

But moving on…

Outlander is a fantastic book. I haven’t been able to put it down!! It’s inspired me to write another ad for CL personals and to update the one I have on
Maybe I’ll have better luck.

To days to come,



John sat at his desk, the past two weeks had been so slow at work that feared losing his job. All the interns did really, but he needed this job badly. The Iraqi war had taken a lot out of him and in the past year of being home this was the longest job he’d been able to retain. They were good to him, allowing his therapy dog to come to work with him; of course it wasn’t like they could really say no, a service dog is a service dog. Duke was laying on the floor, shoulder pushed into his calf reassuringly, always keeping the darkness at bay.

“Did you get those inventory sheets done, John?” a voice over his shoulder asked.

“Their in your inbox Gracie,” he responded to the young woman sitting at the desk behind him. “I did them four hours ago.” He smirked and felt a wad of crumpled paper hit his shoulder and he chuckled. “Are you still reading that book?”

“No,” she said coyly and then snickered. “I have not read it all day, I have no progressed half way through it, Black Jack is not killing the rouges and Irene is not falling desperately in love with him.”

“Well, you know what they say about women who read romance novels,” he sighed and though he didn’t look back at her, he knew she was glaring daggers at him. He shrugged, “I didn’t do the scientific study, Gracie, I just read it.”

Another wad of paper hit him.

They fell back into silence and John went back to the inventory to recheck it, yet again. It was still two hours from the end of the day and time was dragging by like a fish out of water.

dit-dit dah-dah

John tapped his pencil on the desk.

dah-dit-dit-dit dah-dah-dah- dit-dah-dit dit dah-dit-dit
John sighed heavily and repeated his tapping.

“I don’t care that you’re bored,” Gracie hissed after a minute. “Stop that tapping. Or at least stop repeating yourself.”

John blinked. “Excuse me?”

Gracie groaned under her breath and grabbed her pencil to tap on the desk back.

dit-dit dah-dit-dah dah-dit dah-dah-dah dit-dah-dah dah-dit-dah-dit dah-dah-dah dah-dit-dit dit

I know code

John spun around in his chair. “I think I love you!”

Gracie laughed and went back to reading.

I am not fluent in code, but I remember I was in study hall once, sitting in the far back and this guy a few desks over was tapping on his desk. It was so annoying until I realized it was just random tapping. Dit-dit-dit dah-dah-dah dit-dit-dit  I had to think on that for a moment then realized S O S so I tapped back dah-dit dah-dah-dah N O he burst out laughing and nearly got in trouble. I think his name was Josh, he was a cool guy. I had forgotten about code and that memory for a long time. This morning I found a sight that is helping me understand morse code better. Why? No reason really, I’m bored. Monday was the last day for violin lessons, Tuesday was the last knitting class and while I do have finals to study for, and homework to do and still violin to practice, I something new to learn. Morse Code is a language all in itself, so I figured why not. I got a few websites to help me out and a couple of applications on my phone to help me memorize it. When would I ever need any of this? I doubt I ever will, but who knows.

To days to come,



I got this picture of Artie some time ago, but just recently found it again. She is learning the command "hold this" and when I saw this it reminded me of a trend I saw back in my high school days where teenagers had binkies. I remember thinking, 'whats up with that?', people and their trends, very odd.

Anyways, today is my last violin class until I get the money to go again. So expensive, but well worth it. Calluses are starting to form on my index and middle finger but I am so happy that I am finally learning that nothing like that matters. When I was growing up I always chewed my fingernails, I do not know what started it, but as an end result of having ‘cannibalized’ the fingers the nail bed suffered so that it’s short and always will be short. This makes it look very weird when the nails are growing out and for the longest time I hated it. But now it’s a tremendous help. I have heard of violinist breaking their strings because their nails are too long, even when they cut them all the way down to the nail bed, their nail beds are so long that it still interferes- granted a lot of people work around this and never have any problems, but I find it a big help for myself personally. I am not aiming to be a world’s best violinist- I just want to play to be able to bring music into my life. I am happy with that.

I am nearly done with my hat that I am knitting. If I didn’t have Assassin’s Creed Brotherhood to play I probably would be done already. But that game is so addicting! I’m currently trying to kill 20 French guards without being detected and it’s tough. Granted it would probably be easier if I didn’t keep drinking whilst trying to accomplish this task but still. And then the final game of this series is coming out this autumn!! I can hardly wait!!! W00T!!!

Also, Doctor Who has me in a tizzy with all the theories running rampant through my head. That is a fascinating storyline they have arcing all over the place.

But, anyways, my head still hurts, I am mega tired and I need to work more.

To days to come,



Okay I am really loving knitting! I already have so many ideas in my head about what I want to make next- in fact I am thinking about just buying a bunch of needles and starting multipal projects. How very ADD of me.

One such project is a poncho like the one below, notes, this is taken from
THIS IS NOT MY WORK- but it is fantastic.

I was thinking about making it Tardis Blue, just one tone, and then stitching on a green moon and some a felt cat or two. If my sister wants it I'll give it to her but I'm not mentioning it to her just yet.

Another idea is a Christmas stocking hat like below. But mine would be long and would have a bell or two attached at the end.
Yet another idea was a tanktop, pretty much just a tube top really nd have the straps able to be buttoned on.

I love all these ideas.

Okay, my back is killing me, and I am hungry. I am off for today.

To days to come,



My brother just laughed. "It's just not something I saw you doing." and began to walk away and threw over his shoulder "While also taking Violin Lessons... And STILL going to school."

My response- "Meh," with a shrug. "I was bored."

At that he turned around and just looked at me and I can only imagine what's going through his mind....

I spend a lot of time complaining about the instructors at ITT- and seriously, MOST of them are not up to par with what I expected at ITT. But the ones who are good- are really fucking good. They make up for all the shit that is put out by that scuzzy school. So I attend school full time- 3 classes a week, tons of homework, projects, studying and since I procrastinate a lot I do everything in a complex manner... XD

Then there is Violin lessons, Mondays are not good days for free time- I go to work at 730-400, haul tail up to my teachers house and have Violin instructions from 430-515, then haul tail all the way down to class for Statistics from 6-9ish then go home finally.  = Yesterday there was no statistics class and it felt really weird not having to go to class. I woke up all confuzzled this morning.

Tuesdays it's work, then head to the bar for Regina's special treatment, then off to knitting class. Wednesdays are free, Thursdays its sleep in until 8, get to work at 9-530 then high tail it to class from 6 to whenever we et our work done. Friday's are free, Saturday morning is laundry and chat with mom, attend class at 1p-whenever we get our work done then go back to mom and dads. And Sunday is brunch with the family, chill out until 6pm when I go to Billiard's Palace on Wyoming and Meanul to play pool with Turtle and Little Bit.

In my 'free time' I catch up on whatever work is suppose to be done, or I procrastinate by playing with my dogs, gardening, playing assassins creed 2, reading or doing whatever the hell I please.

And I am still bored.

I met a guy the other day, Bumblebee, online first but went to go see him and he's funny. Clever, witty, and a very sarcastic humor, he reminds me a lot of Brobro. I still have a lot of problems in that department, I want a fantastic love life- but part of me just rolls my eyes whenever I start daydreaming like that. 'Come on, seriously, would you ever allow yourself to trust someone that deeply again?' which raises a ton of questions- how does anyone trust someone that implicitly? And how the hell do I let it all go and take that leap of faith?

Always pondering to myself:

trust someone and love them, or keep myself safe, and stay alone- while I hate being alone, I am very good at it. And I haven't seen a reason to really trust anyone that much...


To days to come,



Okay, time to vent:

Everything has been feeling so very off lately. At Sunday night pool Turtle said out of the younger three I’m the only one with a restless spirit. I have been wanting to leave this place for so long, but I think I am down to the final fray of nerves I have of this place. Single people are slim pickings around here and everyone is boring me. People whom have never bored me before are boring me and I find myself dreaming of just picking up and leaving. I can’t do this anymore, my life is just getting stagnant. There is a ITT in Everett with a PM program. As well as Seattle… I was thinking of applying for a job in Reston, could attend ITT in Springfield but that’s a tad bit too close to Norfolk for me. Couldn’t be around that place, although a man in uniform is strikingly hot, just too close to old memories for me.

and I don’t mean everyone, I just mean people I spend more than 15 minutes with at a time. My boredom is so vast that I am learning to knit for whoever’s sake.

Fuzzy like a dream. My new phone, the Samsung Galaxy S, has a front facing camera for video chat, but I had to put on a screen protector and it didn't have a hole in it for the front camera. Actually the first time I put on the screen protector it didn't work at all, had so much dust and lint caught under it- pissed me off! There are spots on this one too with lint in it but it's not nearly as bad, so I can live with it. Not like I have anyone to video chat with anyways. But makes it easier to take my own picture for all those people who are gr about getting a picture- rabbit, crybaby, idiot...

so bored....

To days to come,
        all my love to long ago.




Whoops, it sure has been a while since I've written, I was suppose to be writing every day! Outta sight outta mind eh? Ah well, what can you do about it?

I have seen lots of people with tattoos of black birds on their bodies and I am the sort of person in which every tattoo has a meaning, has a purpose. So I asked a few people what their black birds mean and am just shocked by some of their answers "oh it just looks cool" "black like my soul" (that from a very genteel person who fancied himself a rebel) or they throw some sort of meaning into it that is from a religion or a mythology that isn't in their heritage. Don't get me wrong to each their own, but I still find it ridiculous that there are white people who worship "The Great Spirit" and use sweet grass and sage to 'bless themselves and their homes". But whatever...

For a long time I've been contemplating this tattoo, and because everything has a reason, here is mine. I am KMC, daughter of Owl Woman, a child of the Apsaalooke Nation commonly called the Crow Tribe. But Apsaalooke literally means "children of the large black bird" and Black Birds, whatever they are, are my favorite. And my family is large. So a Black Birds for my family.

Next is a tattoo that will finally cover the blasted date on my wrist. Slinger, my tattoo artist, suggested I try to find Bible verses to attach to the numbers but while I could find 3 14, 8 4 was not successful and neither is the 74. Either way, the 8*4*74 is a date that I've wanted removed from my body for a long time now. As well as the other side 3*14*74 these people are not longer in my life and have no more bearing on me. Ah well... come what may, I am sure something will work out.

For now though I need to work, so I'll update tomorrow and hopefully be more enthused to write.

To days to come,



Tonight is a brilliant, warm night, there is a slight breeze, the stars are shining, the night is just blissful. This is NOT a night to leave the casita door WIDE FUCKING OPEN!! Which, of course, I did as I went to chat with my landlady which, I know, is never a short chat. So we're chatting for the better part of an hour before I get out and come back to my abode and the first thing I see is a little wolf spider trying to haul ass out of my place- I kill it. Satisfied I turn to close the door and HOLY MOTHER OF A FUCKING .... *ahem*... peanut.... there is this HUGE FUCKING SPIDER just chilling by a bookend on the floor! It's like an inch long, 1/2 an inch wide and just sitting there!!! Honestly, I think it was a baby tarantula, but AJ will tell me for sure tomorrow. So I spray that thing with bug spray and it took a good 5 minutes for that fucker to die.

Normally I don't have a problem with tarantulas but jesus this one scared me. NEVER IN MY CASITA!!!!!

Now I'm all paranoid of going t bed.

But alas, I must. I hope Doc comes to me and tells me more of his story.

Wednesday is my mega late day, dont get in until 11, stay until 8.

To days to come,



I don't know, everything feels wrong, off, sad and messed up, and yet oddly content.

Just launched a flying lantern, that, plus this evenings rain made me feel better.

but still, something feels wrong. which sucks because Doctor Who started today.

to days to come,



Worked at Girls Night Out, then got to walk around the area, it was fun, but I am exhausted. Time to play Assassins Creed 2, shower and go to bed. :)



            and we continue


The silver light of the full moon splashed across the glass windows of the Red Crescent hospital. It had been two months since the desecration of the small village to the west, but the time spent was good. The little baby girl would, by some miracle, live; even the doctors had been shocked after they learned of her birth and her birthplace. They had destroyed that village for a reason, Doc had told them and swore them to silence. He stayed with her as they provided medical attention, tests and healing aide to her and then finally located a family for her. She'll be safe, they assured Doc, she'll want for nothing. And he left.

Now standing out in the warm night, the moon just risen over the mountains in the east he looked around, not knowing what next to do. The Red Crescent doctors had given him clothes, a blanket and some basic necessities in a bag which he slung over his shoulder and remembered a phrase from a book he'd once read as a child.

"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"

"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.

"I don't much care where---" said Alice.

"Then it doesn't matter which way you go," said the Cat.

"---So long as I get somewhere," Alice added as an explanation.

"Oh you're sure to do that," said the Cat, "if you only walk long enough."

Doc smiled, 'walk long enough' he thought again and began walking.

Doc opened his eyes, above him the full moon was shining making the surrounding prairie look like a silver ocean. A warm breeze making the tide of light flow and ebb around him as he looked around. It had been nearly two years since he last visited the little girl he saved, she'd be about four now he figured. He wasn't in the habit of moving backwards, but for a couple of years he never wandered far from her, constantly checking in on her and her new family. Bringing her new toys and dresses and spending time with her. But two years ago a flyer made it to the Red Crescent hospital, a man fitting his description was reported missing in action. Any information that may lead to his rescue. He headed east, and when he reached the place designated on the flyer, he was ambushed. Doc shook his head, trying to dislodge memories that gripped tightly to his corners of his mind. That didn't matter now, what really mattered was the small blue dress in his bag, the little yellow ribbon tired around his wrist, and half a day's walk  back to the little girl who always seemed calling for him.

The small town was waking up as he entered the northern gate. This place had really grown in the last few years but he was happy to see life thriving after the hardships of war. Even if life was something out of a story book, or the history books. He stopped at a baker's shop and bought some fresh, still steaming bread and was surprised to see he also carried coffee, a sweet luxury in this part of the country. He bought a small package of coffee and with the gifts for the girls surrogate family in hand he made his way to the western wall to their small but gracious home.

He entered the square courtyard  of the and peered up at the empty balconies. The family must still be asleep, he figured and crossed the courtyard to the northeastern corner where the living quarters were built. He knocked gently and the door swung open. The place had been ransacked, debris from broken tables, chairs and plates littered the floor. A sharp coppery smell invaded his nose and when he circled into the kitchen he found Mina, the mother, spread over the counter, four knives protruding from her back, her skirt lifted over her hips. He dropped the bread, quickly turned and ran to the upstairs bedrooms, to her bedroom. He found Joseph on the stairwell, face down, blood pooled around his battered head. He raced down the hallway, pausing only a moment to see Gabby bed in her bed, blood spray on the walls. He looked to the last door at the end of the hallway. A piece of paper hung to the wooden door with a large dagger pinning it.

Look what you made me do doctor.

With a trembling hand Doc opened the door, it creaked on its hinges and opened to reveal nothing. He let out a shaky breath. The room hadn't been touched, and while she was not there, there was no sign of a struggle, no blood, no indication that she was hurt or dead.

He headed back downstairs, gathered his belongings and walked out the door. Anyone looking for him would know he had passed through if he moved the bodies, so with a silent prayer, he slipped off into the waking town, not sure where to start looking.


            On no!! What's happened to the little girl? Who is PMX? You remembered a book from your childhood, what else do you remember? WHY IS COFFEE A LUXURY?!?!?!

*sniffle sniffle*

            Where are you taking me Doc?! Ah well… time for class here in half an hour, the dust is killing my sinuses, I am tired, I want to sleep. I think I may take half a day off tomorrow and lounge in the hammock.

To days to come,



        So I was working on my spreadsheet and I was thinking to myself, Doc, how did you get your name? Why are you called Doc? Shouldn't your name be Ricky or Bobby or Vincent? I am always partial to Liam myself. What do you look like? Then in my mind I see a tattoo of the old 15th century plague doctor beak-masks with the red eyes on a shoulder surrounded with burns that look like they came from acid, or fire or… caustic soda- lye! Then it comes to me, he doesn't have a name…

Snippet: How Doc got his name.

"Why do they call you the doctor?"

Doc stopped and pondered for a moment. "Years ago I was wandering up north, looking for someone, or something, I don't remember which." He shrugged, set his bag down on the ground and sat under a tree. "Anyways, so there I am, up in the heavily occupied north and I had no idea a war was raging. I walked into this town, not even a town really, more like a little village. The buildings were charred, the ground dusted in lye and the stench," he wrinkled his nose in remembrance. "The major city upwind had been demolished with incendiaries and biochem attacks which drifted down to this village where massive outbreaks of chemically altered yersinia pestis has just about wiped out everyone."

"I heard about that."

"At that time I was only wearing what I woke up in, my black trench coat that went down nearly to the ground, my leather boots and my red sunglasses."

"Always made me wondered where you came from dressed like that."

"Me too," he laughed. "I had no memory of who I was, still don't really." He sniffed. "So I am in this village, death all around me, the whole place just silent, just silent," he exclaims. "And after a few minutes of scouting the place out I hear a small voice. 'Doctor?' I turned around and there is this little boy, naked with what looked like a burlap sack tied around his torso, his sandy hair burned almost completely off, and the caustic lye burns all over his body. I was so shocked that the kid was alive, but when I saw the swollen lymph nodes that kept his left arm propped out and the deep bruises on the skin that wasn't charred or burned I knew there wasn't anything I could do to save him. But the kid's one word seemed to galvanize the air, soon there were all sorts of people coming out hiding. 'Doctor' they whispered, or cried, or even screamed. I knew I couldn't save them, but I could help them, and so I set about trying to help them as much as possible. I was there for three weeks, cleaning out areas to set up wards, sorting people and keeping the place as clean as possible. Practically all of those people died, as I knew they would, without proper medicine all I could do was try to ease the suffering as much as possible. I was down to my last three patients, all three of them children, two young boys and a baby girl who had been born to a mother infected. That baby girl already died on me three times, and every time I was able to revive her. I had no idea what was wrong with her, if she was infected or not, I figured having been born from a woman who was infected and died shortly after childbirth this girl was not destined for this earth long." He sighed, closing his eyes and raising his face to the warm sun. "I heard helicopters, and I thought 'finally, help is coming.'" He grunted. "They bombed the village, incendiaries, lye," he grew quiet, and for a long moment said nothing. "The little boys," he whispered. "There was fire everywhere. I had the girl in my arms, and I ran, ran away" he sighed, opened his eyes again and smiled. "I never stopped running."


      Oh, I am not sure if I like that story, it's kinda sad. Little by little this story is being revealed to me. But with every little bit that I am shown it answers a couple of questions but spawns so many more. Occupied North? War? He talks about a village, so I assume this isn't America, but maybe it is America, post WW3? Did that boy call him doctor because the way he was dressed or because he was the only person who wasn't injured and infected?

  • A wide-brimmed black hat worn close to the head. At the time, a wide-brimmed black hat would have identified a person as a doctor, much the same as how nowadays a hat may identify chefs, soldiers, and workers. The wide-brimmed hat may have also been used as partial shielding from infection.
  • A primitive gas mask in the shape of a bird's beak. A common belief at the time was that the plague was spread by "bad air". There may have been a belief that by dressing in a bird-like mask, the wearer could draw the plague away from the patient and onto the garment the plague doctor wore. The mask also included red glass eyepieces, which were thought to make the wearer impervious to evil. The beak of the mask was often filled with strongly aromatic herbs and spices to overpower the miasmas or "bad air" which was also thought to carry the plague. At the very least, it may have dulled the smell of unburied corpses and sputum from plague victims.
  • A long, black overcoat. The overcoat worn by the plague doctor was tucked in behind the beak mask at the neckline to minimize skin exposure. It extended to the feet, and was often coated head to toe in suet or wax. A coating of suet may have been used with the thought that the plague could be drawn away from the flesh of the infected victim and either trapped by the suet, or repelled by the wax. The coating of wax likely served as protection against respiratory droplet contamination, but it was not known at the time if coughing carried the plague. It was likely that the overcoat was waxed to simply prevent sputum or other bodily fluids from clinging to it.
  • A wooden cane. The cane was used to both direct family members to move the patient, other individuals nearby, and possibly to examine patients without directly touching them.
  • Leather breeches. Similar to waders worn by fishermen, leather breeches were worn beneath the cloak to protect the legs and groin from infection. Since the plague often tended to manifest itself first in the lymph nodes, particular attention was paid to protecting the armpits, neck, and groin.

            Like I said earlier, more questions than answers. When I wrote about Rozzi, I pictured a little girl, a child, no older than six or seven. Hugging a little stuffed bunny, dressed in a little dirty dress and covered with Doc's large leather jacket. But I can't see her face, her eyes or even her hair. I don't normally write a lot because these stories are stories to me as well. Like little movies, playing completely out of sync in my mind. Ending, middle, point of interest, beginning, prologue… Where do you come from Doc? And more importantly, where are you taking me?

            Just in case someone doesn't know, Yersinia Pestis, aka Y. Pestis, takes three main forms: Pneumonic, septicemic, and bubonic. Commonly known as The Black Death.

            I use to write a lot as a child, nothing that amounted to anything of course, but still. I always thought about it like my journal writing, it's a lot of noise in my head that I have to write out or it'll overwhelm me. Lots of times it's just little blurbs, no point really, just something that popped into my head. This one though, started out as a writing prompt but Doc and Rozzi and quickly pulling me into their world. I am excited and a little scared to see where this goes.

            But moving on, you cannot rush a muse. I cut my nails last night and sounded better on this last song on the violin. The high arch fingers are sometimes hard to perform and I practiced until my fingertips were black from rubbing the strings and fingerboard.  

To days to come,