Crickets.
Oh, how I hate them. I wish I could squash every last one of them but you can't find them--or anything, for that matter--in this blessed darkness.
Why did I ever let him convince me to go camping? Why? I don't care if he's my best friend, or if I used to like it when I was little. Camping is murder. Why would you want to sleep on the ground, only seperated from the cold, hard dirt by a microscopically thin layer of tarp? You might as well forget the tent all together, because it's not like it keeps the bugs out like it's supposed to. The best part of the miserable experience that is known as camping is looking at the stars, and the tent prevents it. So why not just throw it in the river and be done with it?
We've got sleeping bags. With holes in the ends so your feet are icicles in the morning. It doesn't matter that it's summer. This is the mountains, it's always winter. Except in the day, when it's the heat is nearly blistering. Or actually is, if your as prone to sunburn as my pale skin.
Why, oh why, did I ever go camping?
*------*------*------*
That started out as a complaint about the crickets last night and how they kept me up till the wee hours of the morn' but then it spurned and grew and evolved in my mind until it became a short story about camping. It's not finished yet, but when it is, I think I'm going to put it on Don't Fret, because I kind of like it and it's cynical tone. It came out of nowhere.
Honestly. I was just thinking about murdering crickets when this fell out of my brain. It was almost like JK's precious idea-dropping fairy wanted to be kind and spread the love to other people.
Of course, that can't be true, because such thing only exists in the mind of a snack-loving, Snape-stealing, dolphin-lover.
But that is really all I wanted to do, complain about crickets and talk about fairies. (They're so pretty).
Heather
to figure out how high the world could reach
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
and I'm glad I never grew up on a mountain
from the mind of Heather at 11:45 AM
Labels: camping, fairies, Indiana, JK Rowling, Jon Mclaughlin, stories
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 pairs of penny loafers:
Oh, good. For awhile, there, I thought you were actually going camping.
Sounds like it could make a good story, though.
before you put it on don't fret, please delete the last sentence. i feel like a five year old is saying it. one with blonde curls. also known as heidi and other notable characters i can't remember. = shirley temple.
whenever the fairy visits me, it lies. it says"kill off your main character" when it really means "delete eight pages and start over with annie as a highlight." ugh.
and yes, i know what i'm going to be sending in for my application. it's on don't fret. please go over there. and read. quickly. i lose internet connection after friday morn. : - ( the beach. it's going to be fun. except the lack of internet access. but i will have my phone. where mr. blackman can call. if he has bars. if.
emilea
I'll try to finish it before you leave. I promise. =)
Why does everyone know what they are sending in for their freaking aieanfiesaruewring applications???
You crazy overachievers are sending me into MAJORMAJORMAJOR panic mode.
ackackackackack
Post a Comment