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January 6, 2006

January 6, 2006

Where does this door lead?

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Comments

Locked is the word I use, though I’ve never spoken it. It’s not a physical lock, just the way I think about it.

All the memories I like I keep around me. The fun, the happy, I carry with me. The memories I don’t care for, the truly dreadful, I keep “locked” behind the door. It’s a mind trick really, a mental convenience.

We all do it, - I think.
To some extent or another, some more than others, we all bury some memories.
Don’t we?

Everyone must have some skeletons behind a door.

I’m still speaking figuratively.

Of course.

Posted by: kasac at January 6, 2006 6:29 AM · Permalink

White Door stood quietely, back against the rubble, and listened. When he was certain there weren't scouts about, he turned to look at the camp. He counted twelve...no, thirteen Quonsets, behind their fence.

What a find! On her first scouting mission, his sister Red Shuttered Window had only found one scraggly portapotty, hardly even a snack. But an entire herd of Quonset huts could feed the Manor for months. He crouched and began the crawl back to the camp, wondering if Chimney would want to invite another house for a traditional round-up, or just stampede the huts off the cliff.

Posted by: Jeff R. at January 6, 2006 2:15 PM · Permalink

There's some kind of weirdness going on with the rating system - I tried to rate Jeff R.'s story and got:

Duplicate entry '26061' for key 1
Warning: Cannot modify header information - headers already sent by (output started at /home/scribe/public_html/100words/addrating.php:48) in /home/scribe/public_html/100words/addrating.php on line 53

Since it sounds like the HTTP request is somehow malformed, I thought I'd include the URL that gave me this:

http://scriberoptics.com/100words/addrating.php?func=QuickRating&plus=3017

Posted by: G-Do at January 6, 2006 7:16 PM · Permalink

In a hole in the ground lived a hobbit - a hobbit very much concerned with the prospect of nuclear winter.

"Must've happened already," said Pirrip to nobody. "America has surely bombed the Ruskies by now. The Jews wouldn't let them do otherwise." His left eyelid twitched. He reached for a Twinkie - was this his second? Almost forty years of solitude (and the accompanying dietary changes) had made him diabetic.

But he'd gotten the last laugh! He looked in his mirror at ultimate defiance, embodied - the last hobbit on earth!

The green grass not twenty feet above his head swayed gently.

Posted by: G-Do at January 6, 2006 7:42 PM · Permalink