Thursday January 26th, 2017

The exercise:

Write about: mayhem.

Took the boys to gym time at the community centre this morning. It was Miles' first time, and Max and I hadn't been there... in a very long time. It was a good chance for Max to run around and let off some steam for over an hour, and Miles seemed to enjoy it as well.

Fun side note: it's called Parent and Tot time, but my brain insists on calling it Toddler and Tot time. So I generally just refer to it as gym time.

Hit a few stumbling blocks with my writing project this afternoon, but I think I've figured out a way around them already. Shall see how that works out tomorrow.

Mine:

Surrounded by rage personified, by the chaos of vengeance without direction, by the unraveling threads of kindness, politeness, civility, and sound judgment, I sit and I watch. And, perhaps because I am so still, not a soul takes notice of me.

I would like to take some pictures, perhaps record a video or two, but I suspect that such actions would draw attention. And I would not be at all surprised if it drew protest. Violent protest, obviously.

So I remain still, allowing my eyes to take in and record as much as they can in this swirling sea of humanity's wickedness unleashed. I note with some interest that no weapons are being put to use - other than fists and feet, of course. I suppose the knives and guns and homemade bombs of all shapes and sizes and sorts will come later.

I think I shall be long gone by then.

My gaze flicks toward my coffee, somehow still upright and unspilled on the table before me. I would very much like to take a sip before it goes entirely cold. I think it would increase my enjoyment of all this nonsense.

It might also be the last coffee this shop ever brews for anyone. So maybe I should preserve it instead?

Anyway. I should be keeping watch on the mob. It really would be for the best if I can take advantage of the very first opportunity to get out of here. So let's focus on that, shall we?

Yes, let's.