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I’m currently cloistered in my apartment watching my car get buried in that white powder better known as back-breaking labor. As usual, I want to write an article, but don’t know what to talk about. It’s been a slow week. I’ve already tapped the usual sources of inspiration, the news, a handful of books I check daily, the word of the day. All pretty mundane.

Horoscope is interesting though. I wonder if I can find a story there…I could do with a day of brainstorming. Horoscope Brainstorming…?

I’m a Pieces:
“Being blunt can be liberating — give yourself a break and just speak the truth.

Someone offers you a great deal, which might be complicated by a debt they or someone else owes you. Try not to think about it too much — if it feels right, go for it and if not, then say no.”

James, stares out the window watching the snow pile up on his car. A recent feud with his neighbors/landlord means there won’t be any snowplow coming today. That’s what you get for complaining about midnight sessions of rock-band being played a wall away. So much for being blunt.
The phone rings. James picks it up lazily. He’s tired and not expecting anyone. It’s David, a coworker.

“How’s the weather at your place?”
“Snowy. A few inches.”
“Weather channel says it’s going to continue tomorrow.”
“I know. I might be late for work.”
“How about you don’t come in at all.”
“Work from home?”
“Not quite. Check your email.”

The man hangs up abruptly. James shakes his head and logs into his computer. “I wonder if I got fired. David said if I screwed up one more time…”
James pulls up his email. He was BBC’d on a message from management.

“Senior Managers: Due to cost-cutting and efficiency measures we are asking all employers to do an immediate review on all employees. One member of each department is slated for occupational minimization before the end of the quarter. We expect reviews to be turned in by Thursday.”

A moment later his email beeps. There’s a message from his coworker.

“James: read the message from senior management. I sent to all the other technicians. I’ll make you a deal: you stay at home this week. Just stay home. You’ll get fired, but I’ll pay you 50% of my salary. I’ll get to keep the health care that I need for my kids. My wife’s work-at-home business will cover the rest of my bills. You won’t have work so you can do freelance or whatever to make the rest of your bills. Think about it!”

James closes the laptop and goes to make coffee. As James sips from his cracked mug he looks outside. It’s nearly a whiteout and his car looks like a burial mound soon to be dissolved into the land.
“I don’t want to go in tomorrow and I don’t really like work. Something is weird though. Why would David be worried about getting fired?”

Just a short story idea. A bit of practice. I would need to flesh everything out a lot more, make real paragraphs. It’s winter and it’s cold, but I the weather needs to be really bad for this to make sense. Maybe it’s not the storm. The wind took out a bridge so the commute is now an hour longer. This car is really just a rental from a friend. His commuter car has a broken axle on a highway somewhere, a remnant of the last time he tried getting to work in the snow.
David shouldn’t just be a coworker. He should have a title, something senior. Maybe David is the department head. The whole conflict should be a bit larger anyway. It can’t just be “not driving to work/getting fired/healthcare”. There should be someone else at work. There’s a new person angling for the boss position. A recent hire from a good school, well liked by senior management. “On the fast-track for sure.” Maybe James is part of the car-pool that picks the new guy up because he doesn’t have a driver’s license. David is trying to sabotage him as well?

Just a few thoughts to get myself warmed up today. I, for one, wouldn’t mind not having to shovel for 50% of the salary. Ha!

I’ve been at work all day, wanted to write an article, instead wrote a short poem in about 5 minutes between tasks.

A dozen people,
A hundred ads,
A thousand hours,
A million dollars,
I build ads. I build ads.

Printers for the paper,
Voices for the radio,
Faces for the tele,
Artists, designers,
I build ads. I build ads.

Computers and cars,
Red-headed stars,
a little toy gun,
prizes to be won,
I build ads. I build ads.

The latest hit movie
has more posters
than there are books
in all the ever-world
I build ads. I build ads.

Demagogues and toothpaste
Big trucks and plastic waste
Small phones in new tones
gray pills for old bones.
I build ads. I build ads.

If half so much time
went to goals twice as lofty
we wouldn’t need ads
But instead I build ads. I build ads.

Another Word of the Day Story: Bivouac

noun:
1. An encampment for the night, usually under little or no shelter.

intransitive verb:
1. To encamp for the night, usually under little or no shelter.

Van Morrison is crooning another round of “Moondance”. It’s been playing on repeat for hours. The damn CD player is broke. What can you expect from a second-rate beater purchased from a chop shop in Tucson. It was damn lucky the car has even made it this far.
I’m turning out of the parking lot. Another day of work done, some freelance ‘jack-of-all-tradesing’ that has kept the car full of gas, my landlord off my ass, and enough change to buy Saltines and tequila. Bad habits both of them.
I’m not much used to the forest. Taller than builders, but none of the glass. Don’t really care for it. I always speed until I get to the lights of the town. During the day it’s small and not worth caring about, barely more than a gas station and a Home Depot, but at night it almost looks like Phoenix. No Carl’s Jr., though. It’s a damn shame, but I guess it doesn’t matter. That shit’s too expensive anyway.
Highway is always crowded. I’m not a fan. Can’t speed, can’t lag about, can’t even flash my brights when the signs are too small to read. It’s better past Newburgh. Not that many people go past that. It’s usually just me and a few 18-wheelers with Quebec plates. What the hell are the Canucks transporting all the time, anyway?
My exit. Last one before a long drive north. I’ll head that way one of these days. Me and my car will bivouac in Quebec for a bit, pretend we got the Oregon trail backwards. Probably wait till summer first. Car already grumbles about the cold. Landlord thinks he’s got me in a lease too. Whatever.
Not sure where I’d go after that. Keep going farther, one bridge at a time. We’ll see how that goes. Right now I’m just gonna enjoy the last few city lights. Might as well. Never know when you might not make it outta the forest.

Word of the Day is a little writing exercise I occasionally task myself with. I log into dictionary.com, go to the word of the day, and then write something using or about that word. Sometimes it’s a poem, sometimes a short story, sometimes just a little vignette. It’s been a useful exercise and tends to be a lot of fun. I wrote this particular article long before it got onto WordPress, but the word of the day for this post is:

Limn: –verb (used with object)

1. to represent in drawing or painting.
2. to portray in words; describe.
3. Obsolete. to illuminate (manuscripts).

An interesting word.

The student sat beside the man-made pond and watched the geese sail aimlessly around the green algae that covered the surface. A stack of well-worn books sat precariously beside him, threatening with each gelid breeze to crumble onto the ground and crush the frosted grass. The student ignored them with frigid indifference.
He cautiously grabbed a drawing pad from the top and conjured a pencil out of his curly hair. His fingers limned the ducks and their irreverence, crafting beaks from parchment and sketching ruffled feathers with the side of the pencil. He moved onto the algae.
Flickers of crystal began to strike the page, leaving moist stains and faded charcoal. The student looked up. His cheek fizzled and he was retreat from the blizzard. Slowly and with a heavy sigh, the student closed his tablet, bowed to the ducks, and walked to class.

Hopefully this will be the first of many examples. Enjoy!