Posted in What Pegman Saw

Everything That Ever Was – What Pegman Saw

There’s something to be said for being an empath in an abandoned city.

It seems everywhere I step is full of energy, an oddity considering no one’s lived here for decades. The air still hangs thick, even on the cool days, it’s electrified. A man once asked me exactly what I saw in this old city.

You see, it’s not the fear. It’s not the energy expelled in those last few precious moments that binds me here. I think there’s something else, something more that leaked beneath the surface that day.

It’s the memories. It’s everything that ever was and everything that never could be. It’s every smell and slight wind blown treasure which was lost that day.

The energy from those moments, those dreams, those regrets ooze from the blades of grass and dying leaves. They hang in the air, waiting to stir.

That’s the energy binding me here.

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Word Count: 150

A write up for What Pegman Saw, rules here and this weeks location, Pripyat, Ukraine.

I did not take this picture from google earth per the rules. It’s from this article.

I may be a little odd. I would kill to visit this location (not literally kill, despite what I write I wouldn’t do that). The pictures coming out of Pripyat have been amazing, the aura that leaks through them is palpable. I’d be terrified the entire time I was there but I would go in a heartbeat.

Posted in Photo

45-57/365 Surprise!

You guys, I ordered a new camera lens. I’ve had my eye on it for a bit and finally had enough in gift cards and stuff to make a dent in the price. I got it today, early! Of course I had to play with it.

Picture post here we go!

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I have to kind of apologize for my backyard … Yard work isn’t my thing and it’s been so gross (hot and humid) that I haven’t spent the time outside on the flowers that I normally would.

Posted in Word Prompt

The Last Twinkies

WordPress Daily Prompt – Varnish

The varnish on the wood steps is peeling away, cracking and splintering like the shards I’ve begun to feel in my soul.

How long … I wonder. Has it always been that way or did it degrade suddenly and explosively? Just like this world? Just like me?

Maybe it was just covered before. The warmth of a fake wool runner that we slid down on our bellies just a few blinks ago seems to be nothing more than a distant memory. My mind holds it like a memory from another world, gently as if the slightest breath could ripple the illusion and forever break it.

Cobwebs have taken over corners and chairs like the one my father sat in on Sunday mornings while reading the comics. They stifle the echo of his laugh bouncing off ceilings and through the hallways.

Now the only sound I hear is Sigh obsessively opening and closing cabinets. It seems that no matter how far gone the world is we still believe food will materialize in mom’s pantry. I hear him cackle with glee, “Twinkies!”

And yet here we stand, still just two kids, with the world forever crumbling around us.

“Sia! I found Twinkies!” Wrappers fall to the ground as Sigh stuffs two at a time into his mouth. His eyes betray the wonder, they never stop darting from the window to the door as he shoves two packs into my hands. “This is it.” He whispers, “I’ll go over to the Johansson’s and see if there’s anything left.”

I turn the golden cakes over in my dirty fingers. They remind me of summers and pool parties. Hours spent outside running through backyards and climbing trees only to shove the most un-nourishing thing you can find through your starving lips as a prize.

“Sia.” Sigh leans close to me, his hazel eyes moving into sharp focus. “If I don’t come back you have to keep going.”

He pushes the pistol into my hands and two bullets before disappearing into the swirling snow that is the ashen world beyond our memories.

I brush the cobwebs from my father’s old chair and settle into it, hugging the pistol into my hip. I try to relax but my thirteen-year-old mind knows I should be talking on the phone with friends or going to movies, not guarding the last two packs of Twinkies with my life.

The sun sets beyond the roofs of our long-gone neighbors. I find myself wondering how many bodies have gathered in these homes, on this street, in this neighborhood I once called home. The wind howls against the door but Sigh does not.

How long … I wonder.


Go check out The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch!

Posted in Word Prompt

The Truck

Abandoned – WordPress Daily Prompt

 

“Have you been abandoned?” The reality of it all drops on me like a ton of bricks. Have I been abandoned? No, I’m here of my own volition. 

He moves closer with every breath, his eyes running the length of my body, undressing me. Every fiber of my being wants to scream but I’m overwhelmed by his thick cologne. “You can stay here.” He leans in, no doubt wanting a kiss but I reel back. No. Nope. No sir. 

Shock, disappointment … “Did you slip?” Something like that.  “Are you ok?”

Without another word I turn and run.

My pride carries me back to the rusty red pick up on the corner. I even hold the tears back until I’m ducked down in the passenger seat.

Have you been abandoned?

This truck contains all of my possessions. What’s left of them anyway. A bag of clothes, a toothbrush, a hairbrush … There’s not much else. The doors creak in the wind as cars rush by. For a moment I try to consider the gravity of the situation but the gray fabric slouching above me pulls my mind elsewhere.

What a piece of shit. Him and the truck.

Have you been abandoned?

The words echo. My gut knows the truth but my mind isn’t ready to consider that. None the less, the words leak to the forefront. I could go home. 

I shake it away. Even if I wanted to I don’t have a phone to call them.

No, this stupid old truck is home now. This stupid old truck that was driven around by that stupid prick of a boyfriend.

Have I been abandoned? 

The smell of cheap cologne haunts me. I had almost given in for a hot meal.

Almost.

Fuck. 

A fresh bout of tears rocks my body. The force surprises me. Huge tears pour down my cheeks. Each one a fresh reminder of those words.