Sunday August 17th, 2014

The exercise:

Write something that has to do with: jumping.

Went to Kettle River for a lunch BBQ with Kat's family today and it was a really good time. Other than Max throwing up in the car shortly before we got there. That was... less of a good time.

Pretty sure he was just car sick after all the winding roads to get there, and he did recover quite quickly. Not a fun sight, regardless.

A lot of time was spent throwing rocks into the river and watching people jump off the bridge. It was a pretty busy location, which just meant that Max had lots and lots of things to look at.

Feeling sad that Natalie and her family are heading back north tomorrow morning, but happy that my parents will be arriving shortly afterward.

Mine:

"Jump!"

"I don't want to!"

"You'll be fine!"

"You don't know that!"

"Everyone else who went is fine!"

"I don't think that really proves anything."

"There's a lineup of people behind you... either jump or get out of their way!"

"Don't rush me!"

"We'll count you down, okay? On three you jump."

"I'll jump when I want to -"

"One! Two! Three!"

"I wasn't ready!"

"Here, I'll swim over. I'll be super close when you land."

"What if I die?"

"I'll save you!"

"You can't save me if I'm dead!"

He jumped, eventually. I don't think he felt like there was any other choice. I felt bad for him though, as I could easily have seen myself in that horrendously awkward, very public position when I was his age.

Being a kid can be a tough go sometimes.

3 Comments:

Greg said...

Well, the best way to avoid having to clean up after car sickness is to starve all the occupants of the car for 24 hours before the drive :) Except the driver, obviously, as you don't want them fainting through low blood sugar, so I suggest you let Kat drive from now on! Cleaning up after someone's else sickness is never fun, but it could be worse. I've been vomited all over by an ill chihuahua while in a pub, so I had to clean it all up (I think I shocked the bar staff by actually doing so and getting the cleaning fluid from them to do it properly) and then get the poor dog home while still damp and smelling of dog vomit.
I feel a little bit sorry for the kid in your story today but... I'd have pushed him :-D
[By the way, were you throwing rocks into the river at the people who were jumping? ._O ]

Jumping
Scritch, scritch
Ilsa turned over again, the bedsheets feeling rough against her skin. How had she been persuaded by Robert to stay the night in his wretched hovel of a house. There were constant noises and she thought that there might be rats in the walls. She shivered, squeezing her eyes tight and pulling the sheets around her to prevent any rats from crawling alongside her. She wished that she could get to sleep and wake up in the morning already.
scritch, scritch
The room seemed colder, but that was normal out here away from the town. She'd read about this; towns created small micro-climates that kept them warmer, and here in the foothills the cold air hit the tops of the hills and was pushed down, so it was always chillier. It felt cold enough for frost though, and she wished the sheets were thicker, or that there was at least a blanket.
scritch, slither
Slither?
scritch, scritch, scritch
She refused to open her eyes. She wasn't playing Grandmother's footsteps with some animal that had come inside, probably to get out of the cold. Then she thought that thought again, and realised that any such animal would recognise that she was the warmest thing in the room....
scri-
She opened her eyes, dreading what she'd have to chase out of the room, and found herself staring at a head as smooth as an egg, as though someone had shaved off all the hair and carefully polished the nose, eyes, ears and mouth away. She jumped, her whole body spasming in shock, and then again when she realised that the head was attached to a body with ridiculously long arms and legs that were clinging to the ceiling above her bed. She tried to scream, but the sound got caught somehow in her throat, and then an arm was lowering down towards her, the strange, bifurcated hand folding up into something almost human to lay across her face.

morganna said...

Oooh, Greg -- that's terrifying. I'm going to blame you for what I wrote.
---------
Jump, glorious jump!
Up off the roof, over the edge
Meant for safety, down, down, down
Plop! Dead on the sidewalk.

Marc said...

Greg - I think your vomit story has one upped my vomit story. I do hope the poor puppy learned his/her lesson and will not overindulge in drink next time you're at the pub...

And no, they were just throwing the rocks into the water by the shore. Plenty of space left for the jumpers :)

Good lord, you're good at this horror story stuff. I do hope you get this, or something very similar to this, published one day so that the rest of the world can share in my discomfort.

Morganna - ouch, that is a rough landing. See what you've done, Greg? :P