Cabin in the Mist

Mist drifted down along the rolling hills. Among the hills was a cluster of forest and in that forest was a cabin. The cabin was rustic but comfortable with a wildwood as the backyard. Owls hooted in the night, light rain fell on lush green trees. Two small lantern lights were placed outside the door of the cabin, an inviting sight that promised warmth on a rainy night. Inside the cabin was a crackling fire in the hearth. Wooden chairs with cushioning, a small kitchen that had the aroma of baked goods and coffee. The scent of wood smoke and fresh cut wood lingered through the whole cabin. A small black cat was resting by the fire, warming itself against the damp air. It purred softly as it drifted off to sleep. The atmosphere was so calming that the air itself would calm the most anxious person with each breath they took. The calm drifted over the woods, relaxation was easily achieved here.

The outside world had storms and fires to put out but the small cabin had only gentle rain and the sound of gentle crackling flames.

Joseph walked through the forest path, he had been lost for countless days, months and even years. He traveled tirelessly, looking for answers but only finding troubles. The scent of wood smoke caught his attention first then the faint glow of the lanterns could be seen. Joseph continued to approach the cabin. Rain gently tapped against his heavy coat, hair and skin. Joseph didn’t mind the rain or the night but was thrilled to see a warm cabin appear from the forest.

Joseph opened the wooden door and saw the relaxing cabin before him. He sighed, releasing troubles from his shoulders and worries from his mind. The sins of the past dripped off of him like rain from his coat. He took a deep breath as he walked further into the cabin. His troubles and worries began to fly from him like ash in the wind.



            Joseph sat down out of reflex, like this was the most familiar thing in the world. As he sat on the wooden chair by the fire he felt the warm crackling flames and he smiled. Soft music began to play as he enjoyed the warmth and rest. Joseph looked over at the empty wooden chairs next to him. He sighed again then looked down. He appreciated the rest but was tired of traveling alone.



            “Don’t look so down in the dumps” Said a voice. Joseph looked up and saw his friends were all now there, filling the empty seats next to him.

The rain fell outside and Joseph began to cry, it was a cry of relief. “This is all I wanted” Joseph said.


            Joseph traveled, looked for answers everywhere he went but all he needed was a warm place to sit with friends.

Stormborn

When the storm comes, don’t run for cover.

            The trees shook and the houses creaked on the small coastal village. Storms were a regular occurrence for the people who lived by the ocean, every year there were a number of storm that made everything shake and tremble and every year the village lasted.

            Joseph was a young man who had seen his share of storms but that night a storm blew in like nothing he had seen. The storm covered the sky in every direction, it stirred up the ocean all the way to the horizon, all of the animals fled hours before it every appeared and all that remained were humans who thought they could out last the end of the world.

            Thunder boomed like a shouting voice and lighting cracked like arrows from the gods striking the land. Joseph was in awe of it all. He cursed himself for not leaving when he had the chance. He had been hiding with the rest of the village but the longer the waiting the larger the storm grew. It grew larger and larger until it looked like it would swallow the world. By the time Joseph realized how bad it was, it was already too late to run and too severe a storm to hide.

            The wind whipped through the village like a giant ghostly hammer crashing into homes and trees. Trees that stood for hundreds of years broke by the sheer force of the storm. Joseph walked out into the storm as his family pleaded for him to stay. He had made peace with his end and if he was to die he would die standing and watching the destructive force of nature rather than die hiding in a basement.

            Joseph couldn’t actually stand up in the storm but his point still stood even if he couldn’t.

            Lighting sizzled through the clouds and the thunder was so loud it was deafening. Joseph had never seen such a spectacle and was satisfied with his decision. He clung to the edge of a broken house as the wind tore through. Then lighting struck one last time for Joseph and then only darkness.

            Death comes for us all, both the brave and the fearful.

 Some would prefer to hide, some would rather look death in the face.

            That was end of Joseph the man but the beginning of the Stormborn.

Battle focus

I was sitting under a tree watching the rain. Gentle water drops fell from the sky, pattering against the land, the thin, green leaves danced and shook from the wind and rain.

            I stayed in a meditative state for several hours as I focused on sight of the lush field, the trees that dotted the land and the rain that fell upon it all. I listened to the raindrops, the wind and the shaking of branches. I felt my breath, I felt my hands grip my sword and I chose not to feel the wound in my abdomen.

            The blood was staunched, the wound was dressed and I continued to draw breath. The pain would have been unbearable if I was not meditating.

This was not the meditation of a monk or holy man lost in prayer, this was a kind of meditation that I taught myself after years on the battlefield. Years of pain and self discipline showed me the way to focus on every little detail of life, take it all in and feel everything except the pain. During this focus, I could not move, I wouldn’t feel hunger or thirst and if I broke my focus, the pain would rush back like a tidal wave.

            I observed the sun rise and set, I watched the moon and felt the insects of the field land on my skin and clothes, then fly off, completely unaware of my existence. When someone chooses to ignore their own suffering, others will often ignore it as well. One does not ask a tree about the day, or consult a sleeping man on the weather.

            Time was lost, it fell away with the rest of life. I awoke in the dead of night, confused, and in pain. I had stayed meditating for so long that I had collapsed from exhaustion. I have no way of knowing how long I slept or how much time had passed since I had been stabbed.

            My wound was dried and scabbed, my sword was still stuck in the ground but it was leaning in a pile of uneven dirt. I was hungrier than I had been in a very long time and my throat was dry as sand.

            I pulled on a thin chain, one end was connected to the bracer on my arm and the other was connected to my traveling bag. I dragged my travelers bag to my hunched form as I lay on the ground. The bag was easy to open but hard to steal. Nothing had been stolen from my bag but there had been times when I would awaken to find my sword stolen along with contents of the bag. Knowing I couldn’t protect my bag at all times, I chained it to my arm and built a secret compartment on the bottom of it. Anyone who stole from travelers would do so quickly and take the path of least resistance. They stole trinkets and extra clothes and blankets but never looked hard enough to find my secret compartment.

            The compartment held emergency food and water and all of my most valuable and sentimental possessions. I always needed food and water as soon as my meditation would end and I could not risk awakening to find I was weak, in the wilderness and without food or water.

My energy improved as I ate and drank. My wound was a dull ache and I had the energy to walk again. I continued my journey forward. I had survived another war, another dance with death and those who left me for dead will see me walk back into town with two working legs and the strength of a healthy soldier.

I am a mercenary, the indomitable swordsman and the survivor of over a hundred battle wounds. I am Virtus.

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.

Welcome to the Autumn Forest

Relax, take a breath and slow down, journey with me to a soothing destination of sights, sounds and smells.

            Joe woke up on a chilly fall morning. The air in his apartment was warm from the hissing radiators which mixed with the occasional draft that would blow in when the wind picked up. That day seemed cold to those who enjoyed summer, but for the fans of Fall, the weather was perfect.

            Joe went out into the world wearing his dark gray fall coat, a black scarf and jeans. He walked down the uneven sidewalk with a brisk pace and a set goal, which was to acquire coffee.

            The coffee shop was down the road from Joe’s apartment, it sold good coffee at a cheap price. Joe ended up buying coffee from the shop more often than he ever brewed it himself. He considered it good exercise and told himself the walking offset how lazy he was to never make it himself.

            The neighborhood was made up of old brick buildings, with uneven sidewalks, and narrow roads. Trees grew wild up from the sidewalk, the trees had grown full and tall long before the apartments and homes were ever built. The builders of the city did something very rare to humans; they built around the trees instead of knocking them over.

            Orange and red trees, brick and old North American architecture all mixed together to make a scenic fall day. Joe arrived in front of the coffee shop, which was named “Brew Spot". The Brew spot operated out of a historic building that served as a pharmacy at one point in the early eighteen hundreds. While it still looked like an old-fashioned store or pharmacy, everything else was updated and modern. The Brew spot had a calm vibe and was a popular location for the neighborhood to get coffee and snacks.

            Joe had been to the brew spot many times before but it was on that specific day that was different than all the other days. He felt especially relaxed and in a good mood, the autumn air felt more refreshing and he was in just the right state of mind for something special to happen.

            When Joe opened the door and walked in, he didn’t enter the Brew Spot, he entered the magical Autumn Forest. This forest was where the Autumn season came from. Every season had its own land and many entrances to those lands, but only those with the right mindset and mood could enter.

            Joe looked around and was amazed and surprised by his surroundings. Instead of a quiet café, Joe was standing in a clearing of trees all ablaze with bright, warm colors. Red, orange, yellow and every combination of those colors painted the leaves on every tree. The air was crisp, cool and refreshing. the smell of wood smoke drifted on the breeze and was then joined by the scent of honey, maple and fresh baked goods.

Joe heard a voice say “Coffee is on the left" The voice was small and monotone. It was the voice of someone who had said the same line many times before. Joe looked down and saw a rabbit standing on two legs with a bored expression. Joe started to open his mouth but was interrupted by the rabbit. "Yes, I talk. you are in the Autumn Forest and no we dont normally serve coffee but enough people have been asking about it, so now we do. Coffee is on the left” The rabbit said then hopped off.

            Joe was puzzled but turned to his left and saw a friendly looking skeleton, wearing a sports jacket, a tattered shirt and jeans. The skeleton had a large black mustache which was glued on. The skeleton was standing at a small wooden booth that looked like a lemonade stand made by children. On the stand was a coffee pot which seemed to be endlessly brewing coffee. The cord to the coffee pot went down along the wooden stand and plugged straight into the forest floor. The sign above the stand read “Coffee - 3 bux each" Joe saw this and muttered about how expensive coffee was getting, even in other worlds.

            “So the rabbit told me I was in the Autumn Forest. He didn’t seem very excited about it. should I be worried? I mean this place looks great, so is there something going on around here?” Joe asked. The mustached Skeleton began pouring a cardboard cup full of black coffee. “No. That rabbit is just a jerk. Most rabbits are jerks. Don’t you have them where you are from?” The skeleton asked.

“Yeah, but they don’t talk at all" Joe replied flatly. “Oh geeze that must be nice. Rabbits rarely have anything positive to say. What about dogs, do you have dogs?" Asked the skeleton. "yes, we have dogs" Joe replied. "Aren't they the worst?! Always stealing your leg and burying it” The skeleton said as he put a lid on the coffee and handed it to Joe.

            Joe took a swig of the coffee and didn’t reply. He wasn't sure how to answer. The coffee was really good and almost worth three dollars. “Do you have any cream or sugar?" Asked Joe. "No” The Skeleton said immediately, his response was so fast that it almost cut Joe off. “That will be three bucks” The skeleton said. Joe reached into his pocket and pulled out some singles and handed it to the Skeleton. "Ah yes, thank you for the payment. I am sure all of this will cover it” Said the skeleton as he awkwardly stuffed the bills into his sports coat.

It was at this moment that Joe realized that the skeleton had no concept of money from the other world and was using the word “Bucks" because he heard it once and thought that’s what money on Earth was called.

            "Thanks for the coffee, friend” Joe said as he sipped his coffee and gave a nod. The skeleton was startled by the word “ Friend” and if he had a face, he would look very shocked. “He called me friend" The skeleton muttered. then turned back to Joe quickly and replied “NO problem. Friend” then the skeleton mimicked Joe’s nod.

            The Skeleton with the mustache looked at his wrist, which did not have a watch on it, and declared “Well its getting late. I should head home” the sun was still out but Joe didn’t know how time worked in the Autumn forest so he assumed the skeleton was right. The skeleton was not right. It was midday and time moved at a similar pace as it did on earth. Joe watched quietly as the skeleton unplugged the coffee maker from the ground and began to push the wooden coffee stand off deeper into the forest.

As the Skeleton walked off, Joe realized he didn’t know how to leave the Autumn Forest “How do I get out of here?!” Joe called after the Skeleton. “Use the door!” Replied the skeleton. “Also watch out for dogs” Added the skeleton.

            Joe turned around and saw a large wooden door, engraved with large trees and falling leaves. The door stood in the middle of the clearing and wasn’t attached to anything. Joe ignored the comment about the dogs, he liked dogs and also wasn’t a skeleton.

            Joe felt energized by the coffee and the beauty of the Autumn Forest. He was in a good mood and began to hum as he walked toward the door. “Don’t hurry back” Said the rabbit as he watched Joe leave. Joe wouldn’t miss the rabbit.

            Joe pushed on the wooden door and stepped through. On the other side was the Brew Spot coffee shop. Joe had returned to his neighborhood and the magical door to the Autumn Forest was gone. He decided not to tell anyone about the magical door but encouraged anyone who loved Fall to visit the Brew Spot for coffee, but never explained to anyone why.

            Joe went through life normal enough. He never did figure out how to replicate the conditions to enter the Autumn Forest but he did frequent the Brew Spot even more after that day.

            Then on the last day of Joe’s life, when decades passed and Joe had a lifetime lived, Joe passed away from the world.

 It was on that day, when the wooden doors opened again and Joe stepped through as young looking as ever. “Coffee is on the left” Said a grumpy old rabbit. It was this time that Joe didn’t mind the rabbit. When Joe went to see the Skeleton’s coffee stand he was greeted by a mustached skeleton wearing a very fine suit, and behind the skeleton was a full fledged coffee house of his very own. “Joe where have you been? Seems like weeks since I saw you” Said a very happy skeleton.

Starting out with a bang

Rain beat the ground like a thousand little drums. Patches the spirit of autumn appeared coming out of a dark alley. Patches wore a long brim hat that covered his large pumpkin head. His eyes, mouth and nose glowed brightly from the flickering flame inside his head. The glowing eyes shone brightly in the dark and rain. A faint glow remained in the alleyway as Patches was leaving.

            The horrible reality of dark city was, that at any moment a murder could take place and that murder would never be solved, for as many criminals were put into prison, just as many escaped the long arm of the law.

            Patches was usually non violent but decided that it was time to settle a score. Glow in the dark alley was the beaten and bloodied remains of King Sun, the ruler of Summer and all that was warm. With summer in critical condition, the rulers of spring, fall and winter would get a longer season.

            King Sun had grown too powerful and covered much of the year in constant heat, and while everyone thought about doing something, it was Patches who finally did something about it.

            After the attack on the autumn forest by Ignitious and Glacious, Patches decided that a peaceful life in harmony together was not an option. The spirit of Autumn and Halloween now walked the line between defender and the aggressive monster that he fought.

Halloween and the Autumn season was both fleeting and special, so its protector needed new measures.

Summer Rain

Can you hear the rain? It pings off the tin roof and patters against the walls of the small bus shelter.

            The air was warm and slightly humid. Rain had just started to pour and the wind and water was a welcoming change from the summer heat. It was in a bus shelter that he stood, out in the middle of the lush green forest, waiting for a bus that only showed twice a day. The leaves rattled as they were tapped by the steady stream of rain drops.

            Soft music played from his headphones, each small tap of his foot caused a ripple on the slowly forming, shallow pool of water by his feet. As the tree branches swayed with the wind, He noticed a tree with a blooming pink flower. The colorful pink and green popped out from the background of hazy rain and mist.

            Though it was day the sun hid behind the clouds, some would call it a gloom but others, especially those in a certain bus stop, the day seemed quiet and relaxing.

            Headlights appeared in the distance and slowly bounced up and down as a bus drove up the dirt road. A large bus stopped in front of the shelter and the doors opened. The bus driver gave a smile, which was interpreted as welcoming. The bus driver actually was smiled due to the surprise that anyone was actually waiting at this stop in the rain.

            He climbed aboard the bus and walked towards the middle, then sat down at a window seat. The bus air felt damp but small bursts of cool air came in from little vents on the floor. He put is leg over the vent, which caused the cold air to shoot up his pant leg.

            The bus seats were clean, vinyl and old. The padding still offered support but was visible through the seams of the seat. The bus’ engine let out a groan as the vehicle moved forward. The soft rocking of the bus was comforting and the patter of rain was very relaxing. The world drifted away as the bus moved forward. All was quiet and before long He had drifted off to sleep.

Jillian's Letter

Her hands quivered as she wrote. It was a stormy day, rain pattered against the window shutters as the trees shook and danced to the tune of the wind howling.

            She traveled the land, she saw amazing sights and killed scores of man, women and beast. She once stabbed a spear made of crystal into a demon lord erupting from an ancient stone. These were easy jobs by comparison to her task ahead. Jillian Cole had the chance to write a letter to the love of her life and could guarantee she would get the letter. The hardest decision was what to write.

            Jillian had lost her love once and worried so intensely that he second chance would slip through her fingers. “Hello, how are you? I’ve stopped killing. As much” Jillian scribbled the words down, scrunched her face at how awful it sounded, crumbled the paper and threw it out. She grabbed a new piece of paper, set it down and stared at it. The intimidation grew from this fresh piece of blank paper. This could be the final letter that gets sent or it could be a load of garbage that ends up in the ever-growing pile of reject ideas. Jillian really wished she could just prove herself by killing something.

            Day turned to evening, then evening dragged on into night. Jillian’s reject pile had grown and her sword arm was growing restless. “Maybe I could kill just one bandit, then right back to work on this letter. Killing DOES help people. If I save someone then its fine right?” Jillian said out loud to herself. Fighting gave her a sense of purpose and killing was a rush that she grew fond of. Jillian’s love left because she worried that Jillian killed too much and too frequently.

            “It’s either Me or the Vanguard” Jillian’s love said before she walked off. Jillian Cole WAS the Vanguard and found it impossible to choose, so the choice was made for her. Jillian could abandon the armor, take up another line of work and stop killing bad guys and monsters, but wondered if she would be the same person after that, would she still be herself?

            After hours of anguishing over each word, Jillian finally scrapped her current work, a full paper of apologies and excuses, fond wishes and lovely words. Jillian grabbed a new piece of paper and wrote her true feelings.

            “Hello my love. There’s not a day that goes by that I do not miss you. I miss the scent of your hair. The way you comforted me after battle and told me I would be amazing no matter if I had the armor or not.

 I understand why you left and I know now why I couldn’t make that decision myself.

I needed to tell you that even if you have moved on, that I still love you. I do not expect this letter to change your mind however. I am still the Vanguard. I cannot be anyone else. We cannot take a piece of a person and wish it to be the whole of them. I am the woman outside of the armor who smiles and jokes with you, but I am also the one inside the armor who fights endless battles. I hope that you are well. If you ever need me, please reach out. Goodbye for now. I hope to see you again soon”

Jillian finished writing the letter and put her pen down. She had written her honest feelings and that is all she could have done. She began to re-read the letter and a twinge of disapproval entered her mind. She wanted to change words and maybe even start over. Jillian slammed her fist down and declared “NO, It is finished” And the broke her pen in half and threw it on the pile of reject papers.

            The now finished letter was carefully folded with love, put into an envelope and sealed with wax. Jillian smiled to herself as walked over to a very frightened delivery man who was tied to a post in the cabin where she had been writing.

“So you know the woman I speak of, correct?” Jillian said in a tone that could sheer flesh. “Y-yes, of course, I’ve seen her many times while delivering l-lett…” The delivery man was cut short as Jillian nodded and shushed him. His whimpering upset her stomach and she needed him to do a job not tell his life story. “Alright. I will release you. Take this letter and make sure she gets it. Do NOT tell her that you were tied to a post. If you do tell her OR if you fail to deliver the letter all, you will see me again.” Jillian explained calmly. Then she gestured to her black Vanguard armor. “IF you do see me again I will be wearing that. And that armor will be the last thing you see" She hissed. "Now go!” She shouted.

            The delivery man took the letter, nodded several times and started to leave. “WAIT!" Jillian shouted. The poor delivery man froze and trembled. “Here is your pay. I am not an unfair woman” Jillian said softly as she poured a pile of gold coins into his trembling hands. It was enough gold for a weeks worth of deliveries. Which worked for him because he was only tied up for a day and a half.

            The storm had calmed and the deliveryman ran off into the night. Jillian felt giddy and nervous like a schoolgirl waiting to hear from her crush. It was a night of emotional growth for Jillian. “Now that the letter is sent, time to go back to work” Jillian said with a sly grin then began to adorn her black Vanguard armor. Out into the world there were monsters and bandits who were dead and didn’t even know it yet. Jillian needed to work off the stress from writing that letter and the outside world would feel it.

Lie to Me

Lie to Me.

            When there is no good more good news, when my heart hurts and the sky is gray, lie to me. Tell me there are blue skies above, if I could just see it. Tell me how the clouds look so peaceful and the birds sing so sweetly. Tell me when it rains that it’s not the lonely kind of downpour that reminds me of being alone. Tell me the rain makes it a good day to cuddle, that the rain brings sleepy days and cozy nights.

Lie to when I wish I had someone in my life. Even if I had to pay you, tell me you actually wanted to stay. Tell me all the sweet things that a lover says, the things that warms the heart and makes life worth living.

            Lie to me about the state of the world, tell me its all going to be ok.

Tell me it will all be ok.

When I am sick, lie to me and tell me I will recover. Tell me that I will get better if I have the strength. Lie and tell me it’s all worth it in the end.

I hate liars, I always want the truth, but the night is long and my soul is tired. Please lie to me.

“Don’t worry. It will all be ok"

Blue haired Maiden

The Hero sat on a log. Lonely where the days and harsh were the night. Then one day he was beholden to a maiden with hair as blue as the ocean and eyes green like the sea.

The Hero traveled to meet this maiden but she was always just out of reach. Forty days the hero traveled. He fought monsters and braved perils of Mother Nature. Storms passed, hot scorching days went on until finally the hero reached the cabin of the maiden with the blue hair.

 The hero was so entranced by the maiden’s beauty and braved so many dangers just to gaze upon her and ask her name.
           
           The hero stumbled to her with his mouth ready to speak. Before he could ask her name, the Maiden opened her mouth and she spoke with the purist voice. Her words were carried by the wind to the ears of the hero. The hero heard the maidens voice for the first time and what she said to him was. “Sorry, I have a boyfriend"

The long day passes

The long day passes, the sun beats down unrelenting. My energy is sapped from my body from the constant heat and hard days. The only relief to be found is at night when the air turns from roasting hot to barely tolerable. I climbed my stairs with all of the strength a starving man on his last leg. I pushed the door open and collapsed to the floor. My cats race to my side, purring as they rub their fluffy bodies against my unmoving head and shoulders. They lick my arms frantically; their motivation is of love but also of food.

            I drag my corpse of a body across the floor as the cats joyfully skip and frolic around me. They play and wash eachother, they climb on my body and they race down the stairs into the hallway. The mischief beasts return to my apart when they hear the rustling of the cat food bag. I pour dry kibble into their dishes and they eat as if they had never eaten before. They had not eaten since breakfast and their partially empty food dish was a grave concern to them.

            As my lazy roommates eat their kibble, I continue to drag my lifeless body across the floor. As I dragged my body across the floor, the friction from the dragging separated my leg from my pelvis. I left my leg behind as I continued towards my bed. My cats played with my severed leg and nibbled on the toes.

            I crawled into bed, turned on soft music, covered myself in blankets and pillows, then drifted off to the sweet oblivion of death. I died in bed, months passed, my body decomposed into the earth. Grass and plant life sprung forth from the site of my death. My apartment crumbled, vines overtook humanity, my cats played in the rubble of human civilization.

            Then a sharp noise sounded, it was the alarm on my phone. The sound continued, it was piercing and unpleasant. One of my cats tried to drown out the sound by covering it with their soft fluffy body. The muffled alarm continued to sound. I rose from the dead, fully formed, alive and with all of my limbs. I coughed up dirt, spiders and worms. I moved my arms, the motion felt like a rusty machine moving for the first time in years. I twisted my pelvis and pointed my legs toward the edge of the bed, popping sounds erupted from my spine and lower back. The cracking of my back felt good and I continued to move. I moved like an ox over burdened with weight, I lumbered to my computer desk and drank down a gallon of pills. The pills restored the remaining bits of humanity that I had lost on the previous day. My cats danced and chirped as they noticed I was awake. I pet the small goblins as they frolicked through the apartment. Breakfast was served for them as I drank coffee.

            I looked at my phone and saw the weather report, "Surface of the sun” was written as the temperature of the day. I sighed and prayed for death.

I sat hunched over my keyboard as I checked my emails and my pointless social media. One of my cats climbed across my shoulders and back. I sat unmoving, this was normal for me. I then stood up, shook the cats off my body and began to get dressed. The cats gracefully floated toward the ground and scampered off. I smiled. I want only happiness for them.

            I headed for the door and dragged my armor from the closet. This armor would protect me from the day, from the heat and from the opinions of others. I knew at the end of the day my armor would be broken and falling off but I put it on anyway. I needed it just as everyone does. I went out to face another harsh day. My cats slept like potatos.