28 September 2013

Writing at the Park

I want to write but the words escape me, like an elusive prey.  Describing my days in a succinct pattern of prose.  Catching the mundane acts of the day with literary extraordinaire.  

Pausing to look up as the children slide down the slick green tongue of the playground.  Landing like a sack of flour hitting the floor.  For a moment, a stoke of the second hand, they stop.  Popping up like a small explosion as they race for the stairs again.

Parents flying kites, trying to get their children interested on holding the line.  They have the choice, run around with friends, or stand here, tethered to the kite gracefully flying high above.  

The laughs, like a gaggle of ducks spreads across the play ground like a wildfire.  With infectious energy the waves of laughing and screaming.  Brothers, sisters, cousins, friends with no concerns.... Expect when it is time to go.

07 September 2013

High School Reunion

TA few weeks ago (well more than an month ago) I attend my high school reunion.  When I showed up at the place, a group of us walked up to the front door (locked) then we tried the back door (locked).  So we wrapped on the window, and they let us in.  It was a precursor of how the remainder of the evening would go.  Everyone who attend had a great time, and many beverage was consumed.  

There were many people from out of town, and some that were staying in hotel because thier  family moved off, as for me, it was back to the bedroom I had in high school.  It may be my self-awareness, I think I would have won the contest for most gray hair.