Mountain Air

Mountain air flows through me. I breath it in through my nose, in cycles through my veins and I breath it gently from my mouth. The cold air clings to me like skin, wood smoke of the village is my natural scent. I cut my arm and autumn leaves flow out, leaving my body and floating gently through the sky. The leaves float across from the highest mountain tops, they shake loose from the trees like water shakes from a dogs fur.

            From the highest peak the leaves drift down, gently dancing as they go. They travel over the peaks and over the trees. They float down to the roads built by man and visit the lively villages where music rang. The leaves glide on the breeze, ever into the distance and ever downward. The autumn leaves find their way into the stream below. They pluck against the water and that is where they stay. Then the leaves start to move again as they are rushed away by the flowing stream.

            The mountain breaths a sigh of relief as the days grow shorter. Each breath sends a chilly wind down across the land. The people of the village feel the mountain's breath first but the cold breath warms as it travels down, so when the people of the city finally feel the breath of the mountain, it is no colder than a spring day. This is why it is always colder in the mountains.

            The cold air settles on the land, the sun drifts off to sleep and lights flicker in the village. Warm fires are lit in hearth and home. Fire, which was stolen from the gods and given to human kind, is used to help humans fight the dark and cold of night. The relaxing sound of flames burning at the wood mixes with the gentle noise of the wind blowing against the houses.

            The sun is down and the fires are lit. the mountain sleeps, the people sleep and I too, shall sleep.

Early Morning rain

Water trickled from the old tin roof, the slow steady beat of rain combined with the metallic ping of tin was relaxing and brough Joseph back to his younger days.
When Joseph was a kid there was nothing better than watching a thunderstorm from the window in his room. He would opening his window up about and inch and smell the scent of rain as the wind blew in through the small opening. His parents always told him to keep the windows closed when it rained but Joseph wanted to be apart of the rain and storm. He wanted to experience the awesome power of nature that was happening right outside his window. He lived in the country side as a kid, atop a great big mountain and his closest neighbor was a small spot down at the bottom of the hill. Joseph always felt at awe in the presence of nature. He loved trees and always imagined that anything could exist over that mountain ridge in the distance. If something as loud, awesome, refreshing and scary as a thunderstorm could come from the mountain ridge beyond, then who knows what else laid beyond.
Joseph looked up from his lap and realized he had dozed off listening to the rain and thinking about his childhood. He was an adult now and was waiting for the bus. He sat in an old shelter with a tin roof. The bus shelter was next to a quiet road where cars rarely traveled. The sound of rain kept Joseph company  as he waited by the quiet road. Behind the bus shelter was a wooded area and on a clear day the forest would be filled with the sound of birds singing happily.
Joseph felt a chill as a cold wind blew through the shelter. He had been sitting in the bus shelter for a while as he waited for the bus and though he was cold and didn't want to be late for work, he also felt calm because the rain calmed his so.
Joseph felt another chill and decided to reach for his coffee, a tan paper cup full of piping hot liqued. He took a sip and felt the warmth of the coffee spread through his body. He closed his coat up tighter and drank some more coffee. Joseph stared straight ahead, watching the fog of the morning slowly float through the air. through the fog and on the other side of the road was another patch of forests. Joseph had seen all kinds of animals come out of those woods while he waited for a bus. He saw rabbits, deer, all kinds of birds and even a bear. He figured that if all those different animals lived in one forest, surly there could be anything living in that forest.
the sound of an engine echoed in the distance and bright headlights pierced the fog. a large metalic shape came charging up out of the fog and rain. The bus had arrived. Joseph stood up and walked out of the shelter. a strong gust of cold wind blew against his face and woke him up and made him feel more alert. It was then that he realized how much wind the shelter had protected him from as he sat and daydreamed and contomplated the rain. The bus stopped and let out a sound of an animal who was so tired and collasped, a heavey breath out or some kind of steam being released from the engine. The engine of the bus puttered as it stood idle, the doors opened and soft light came out of the bus. Joseph heard the rain mixed with the sound of rubber on glass as the windshield wipers cleared the front window of the bus.
Joseph was getting rained on as he took his time to collect his things and walk up into the bus. He walked up the two steps and was now at the front of the bus, he stared down the row of seats. The bus was mostly empty and the people that were on the bus were either asleep, reading or staring blankly into the air. This was the first bus into town and would arrive before most people even woke up.
Joseph walked down the isle and found a window seat. He sat down and put his bag next to him. Rain beat against the glass as if it wanted to be close to Joseph. He felt a little sad to be leaving the bus shelter and all of the peace it brought him. The bus began to move, the engine grumbled and all sorts of sounds were heard. so many different sounds all at once, that Joseph couldn't identifiy them. The bus took off down the peaceful road slowly gaining momentum and reaching its desired speed. The sound of rain mixed with windsheild wipers and that mixed with the hum of the bus' engine. The bus rocked back and forth in a gentle sway. The rain pattered on the windows, the bus hummed and swayed the windshield wipers made a soft squeek and Joseph made no noise, because now he was asleep.

Migraine

Jagged pain pounds in the base of my skull. Migraine. Such a simple word, so casual, so often heard that it barely invokes any emotion to those who do not suffer with it. Though migraines aren’t fatal that do cause suffering. It gets hard to think and hard to write when it feels as though a screw was slowly burrowing into my skull. Worming its way deeper into my head until it hits my brain.

            Headaches can be a nuisance but migraines can ruin your day. Though who deal with severe or frequent migraines know this first hand.

            I awaken feeling hung over, but I did not drink the night before. My head has a thumping pain, like a kick drum beating in my ear. The sharp pain of a knife enters my skull followed by the dull and constant pain similar to the moments after being struck on the head. I stand up on uneasy feet and fumble for the lights. I turn the light on, sharp daggers of light enter my eye and pierce through into my brain. I react quickly and shut the light off.

            After taking a moment to recover I try to move forward in the dark. My eyes start to adjust to the lack of light but my head spins and I feel dizzy and nauseous. Pain burns into the back of my head and it becomes hard to see. I feel as if I were dying, but I know I am not. I have been to the doctor so many times because of my pain. I have had so many tests done and they all point to one thing, migraines.

            I start the coffee machine and run to the bathroom. The pain has made me so dizzy it is unbearable. I vomit into the toilet. My head still hurts but I am less nauseous now. After brushing my teeth I take my pills. Pills for nausea, pills for migraine pain even muscle relaxers. I take the first two and put the third one back. I cannot afford to drug myself this early in the day.

            After my pills and a cup of coffee my migraine starts to recede. It doesn’t go away, it just becomes more tolerable. I spend my day with a dull pain in the base of my skull. I am functional but my mood doesn’t recover on days like these.

            For those who suffer know this morning routine all too well. Migraines might show up in the middle of the day or even at night, but it is always the same symptoms.

            So for now I rest. I take my pills and rest. Try to take my mind of the pain and hope tomorrow is better.

Joseph Stephens and the Dream Sheep

            Little fluffy white sheep bounce through the endless night sky. These small creatures are beings from another world, sent to earth by the sandman to help people sleep and dream.

            Only a foot tall and more fluffy wool than a body, with small round eyes, little stubby legs and round purple horns. These little critters jump over houses as magical sleeping dust falls over a family. For those with trouble sleeping the dream sheep sneak into the house through windows that they pry open with an adorable purple crowbar and the sheep jump over the person until they fall asleep. This is why people say counting sheep helps you go to sleep.

            Off you go to a magical world were anything is possible. While your brain files away all of the new information you gathered from the day you get to experience imaginary worlds with untold wonders and the scariest pits of your own imagination.

            Every night so many people get to drift off into a restful slumber, a sleep that rejuvenates the body and the soul. These people get to dream of wonderful places, floating cloud cities surrounded by sparkling stars too beautiful for words. They get to superheroes and stand up to the troubles of their day.

Some do not dream and that is all right too. resting your weary head down on a soft pillow, closing your eyes and letting hours go by in a blink of an eye. Hours pass and it is time to get back to your life. The morning awaits and you face the challenges of the day with restored vigor.

            This is the case for many people. Unfortunately for Joseph Stephens his dream sheep are heroin addicts. So he spends his nights awake, his mornings asleep and his afternoons feeling groggy and slow.

            So have a good night boys and girls and remember, if you can’t sleep, maybe your dream sheep are addicted to illegal drugs.