Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Grab What Matters Most & Don't Forget to Hold it Dear

“Okay,” she began, putting her hands palms out towards the floor. “If this house caught on fire and you only had a few seconds to think and grab for something near you, what would you take?” She looked at him and waited patiently for his answer. His eyebrow quirked and he glanced back at her. “If this house caught on fire…?” He echoed as if he hadn’t heard correctly.

“You’re silly, you know that?” He asked back at her. She put her hands on her hips in reply while simultaneously trying to keep a smile from giving away her amusement. He rolled his eyes playfully and turned to scan the room for objects that he might consider sprinting out of the burning building with. If that were to ever happen, of course.

He pondered, his eyes lingering for a period of time on each object before moving on to the next. “I dunno…if I had to risk a few seconds that could possibly cost me my life to grab something and run, I don’t really see anything here that’s that important to me…”

“C’mon hon, you can think of something. This is all for play anyway. You don’t have to try too hard. Think of something you love and couldn’t live without.” She prodded gently.

A bright, figurative light bulb binged on atop his head and he smiled at the sudden genius.

“Well, there is one thing that I’d risk my life for…” He spun around and swiftly pulled Violet off her feet and into his arms bridal style. Surprise graced her face, but only for a moment once she realized what had happened. “Oh no, honey, the house is burning down! Grab what you can and run!” He yelled while she giggled, looping her arms around his neck. He ran to the two doorways screaming in a whisper and saying, “Ahhhhh! This exit’s blocked! That exit’s blocked! Honey, honey what are we gonna do?”

She smiled up at him that smile that she gives when he’s being silly but it’s still entertaining to her all the same. “We’ll just be trapped in here. We’ll burn to death and die in each other’s arms.” She had taken on a melodramatic tone for effect. She even had the back of her hand on her forehead.

Walking over to the couch, he gently lay down and shifted her on top of him until she was laying her head on his chest. “In each other’s arms…” He repeated quietly, squeezing his own tight around her body. He looked deep into her eyes and smiled crookedly.

“That’s got to be the best way to die.”

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Some fun fluff for you. Yay for fluffy fluffiness~!

Until next time,
~Vicki

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Three Seater

Three seats. Three strangers. Only two sit down.
There's always that instance on a public bus or trolley where there is a spot on a three seater bench open, but it's always in the middle because no one ever wants to sit next to a stranger. So, you, as you enter the bus, choose to stand instead. You'd much rather stand than sit next to some strange person you don't know. And the beautiful thing is, they can't make you sit down if you don't want to.

...and in this instance, a man just sat next to me, in the middle of the three seater.
Go figure.

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Written from the rightmost seat of a three seater bench on the trolley in UVA.

Much love,
~Viiiiiiiiiicki

Sunrising

"Samantha! Pssst...Sam!" Samantha sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. She glanced at the clock. "What the heck...who's here at 5:15 in the morning? It's still dark outside..." She grumbled sleepily, tossing her legs out of bed and meandering towards her bedroom door. "No Sam, over here." Three taps on the window spun her around and she found Lyric perched outside it. He waved and smiled.

She bumped the corner of her dresser on the way there but otherwise made it to the window without any other injuries. She shoved it open, the old cracked paint working against her. "Lyric, what are you doing here at this time of morning?" She whispered, nearly hissing as she motioned for him to hop through and into her room. He shook his head, that crooked smile still gracing his lips. "Come with me." His arms extended toward her. "Why now? Can't it wait?" He shook his head and twisted to look off into the distance. He was being utterly mysterious, she thought. "Please, come."
His hands beckoned.

Sam hesitated, debating and wondering simultaneously. She shifted her weight from foot to foot. Finally, when it looked like Lyric was getting anxious and possibly a bit nervous, she nodded her head. His smile reignited. "Let's go."

She went with him out onto the roof and he told her to be as quiet as possible. "Where are we going?" She asked, but he only shook his head and put a finger to his lips. "Later. Now hurry; time is of the essence." She almost couldn't take his mysteriousness and I'm-not-going-to-tell-you-anything attitude, but she let him lead her. She reasoned that he must have a motive for keeping silent about pretty much everything.

They slid down off the roof soundlessly, to Sam's delight. Lyric jumped on his motor bike and Sam wrapped her arms around his waist as she slipped on behind him. "Hold on tight." He grinned and revved the engine. With that, they were zooming down the street.

Sam saw that the night was just barely beginning to melt away when they reached the base of a small foothill. Her hair whipped wildly about her face and she continuously squinted her eyes against the rushing air. Lyric took a short road that twisted and wound up the hill, kicking up dust in his wake.

Lyric pulled off on a small, flat parking area that overlooked the city, silencing the purring bike. He turned to her with a twinkle in his eyes and his smile reflected it. "I want to show you something my Father made." Lyric grabbed her hand in his; it was still warm from the bike handle. He led her over to a plaid blanket beneath a giant tree; it's bowed branches gave it an old, weathered and wise appearance. If it could transform into a human, Sam decided, it would take the form of an old man, shoulders hunched and face owlish and twisted.

They lay down on the blanket, wiggling together on their stomachs until they were shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip. "Had I known we were going this far I might’ve put something on a little more covering and public." Sam murmured, trying to pull down the long sleeves of her night shirt to cover her hands. Lyric sat up momentarily and slipped out of his jacket, draping it over her shoulders. She felt his heat radiate around her as well as his musky scent. She nuzzled her nose into the neck of the jacket and breathed in deeply. "Thank you." She pulled it tight around herself and gazed up at him.

"Oh, look." He breathed as he laid back down, pointing to the horizon. "What?" Sam asked, following the direction of his finger. "Watch." He grinned and stared at the undulating tops of the opposite foothills. Light was leaking over them, illuminating the dark sky in beautiful hues of blue, pink and orange.

In mere minutes, the sun popped out from behind the mountains and spread its beam everywhere across the sand and dirt like someone opening their arms for an embrace. Sam couldn't find any other words for it than "wow" and "so amazing." The hues continued to vary and gradient out from the rim of the sun, changing every few minutes. There were no clouds dotting the sky that morning and it made everything seem so much clearer.

"This is so beautiful. I've never watched a sunrise in my life, much less with someone I care a lot for." Sam beamed, showing teeth in her genuine smile. "But...your Father made this?" An eyebrow rose as she glanced over at him in obvious disbelief. His grin never faltered.

"Yeah, God made this."

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Make-up

I don't like makeup. When someone puts it on, it's like they're trying to fix something that's wrong with them. It's like saying "God, I'm not exactly happy with the way you made my face, so I'm going to make it ‘better.’" I don't care about the reasons that people come up with; "I'm enhancing my eyes...I'm putting some color in my face...I'm taking the focus off my nose..." Makeup is a disgrace. Do you not realize you're putting on a mask of man-made, synthetic gunk to disfigure the face God gave you? I don't understand the motives and the justifications behind this.

Makeup does not fix anything.

You claim "it makes me prettier." Prettier? Now you're comparing yourself with other girls and judging your facial structure next to theirs.

Now you're looking at yourself in the mirror. Now you're not good enough. Now you're not pretty enough. Now you're not thin enough.
Now you're caught in the trap of vanity and lies.

Stop! For God's sake...for your sake, stop!

Look at your face. Its curves and lines and colors are all unique. How can you even begin to compare yourself to the faces of other women when your faces aren't even remotely the same? You can't.

You are beautiful. Look into the eyes reflected in that mirror and say "I am beautiful." Why? Because you are! Stop lying to yourself and stop putting yourself down. It will only make you feel more miserable and unsatisfied with life.
So what if you don't have small thighs and a skinny waist, so what if you don't have "full" chest and tan skin. No one in their right mind cares about that more than the person you are, the personality that you have. Wake up and start telling yourself the truth!

No one deserves to be miserable. No one deserves to feel bad about their image.

Tell yourself that you are beautiful. Every chance you get, tell your friends that they are beautiful. Tell anyone anytime you get the chance with a smile. Help them realize the truth.

You are beautiful.