Pride in the Little Big Things

One of the many lovely perks of being a student again is constantly carrying around a backpack. I’ve had the same backpack since I started my undergrad so to say that I make things last is an understatement. With any luck this backpack will make it through 3 years of graduate school and get me to the other side intact. It doesn’t just help me lug around papers, a computer and books though, it’s also a conversation starter.
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So Long, Farewell

The Hug by Shashank Shekhar

The Hug by Shashank Shekhar


“Here we are,” Cynthia tapped the steering wheel with one finger, her anxiety building. Her daughter eager to sprint from the car, bag and dreams in hand. Yet Cynthia’s heart quivered at the sight of so much excited abandon. Their sideways hug lingered. DNA was breaking off once more. Goodbye.


Hey all! Wrote this shorty in response to the DP Weekly Writing Challenge. I simply loved it! It was hard picking the right words and hard to end it right at 50 but WOOO what a challenge. Can’t wait to experiment with super short bits like this some more =)

The Others

Mercy lay as still as her body would let her. As frail and easily snuffed out as that body was it was a gift nonetheless. The new sheets she had just put on her bed were soft but smelled foreign, like plastic really. Mercy hated the smell of plastic. She allowed a subtle turn of her head so her nose could bury itself into her shoulder and inhale a familiar scent.

The rain pounding away on the roof only added to her sense of comfort. It was a hard and steady rain, her favorite. When it came down like that, the sound of a constant downpour created a sort of white noise that Mercy liked to imagine is what her mother’s womb had sounded like. Not loud and grainy like TV static or the harsh tones of an empty radio channel.

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There are clothes everywhere in my room. On the floor, on my bed, on the hamper (as opposed to in it) and on the dryer. There’s probably an even mixture at this point of clean and dirty clothes. Also scattered around are dog toys, bits of paper, odds and ends, DVDs, and books! Oh the books with no home to call their own!

For a week now I’ve been wading through the mess every day to get dressed, go to bed, to basically function. At first it didn’t bother me. In fact I rather enjoyed it in some ways. There was a freeing quality to leaving it so messy. As if my life had just exploded all over the place. I told myself I didn’t have the time, that I was always rushing in and out of the house so it didn’t matter. It made me feel like I finally have a life in this new town and that filled me with a strange pleasure.

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Home Owners Association? Associate THIS

To start off with let me explain what a HOA, Home Owners Association, essentially is for those of you who may not know. At its core it is a group of home buyers given the ridiculous responsibility to ensure that the neighborhood in question stays within a given set of standards. These standards, rules, restrictions, what have you, are meant to make sure that the homes in the neighborhood retain if not increase their property values. If viewed in a simplistic manner- the neighborhood looks nice and clean and uniform then our value goes up- would seem a good thing and some would agree.

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