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July 10, 2007

Tuesday

Your free association word of the day is forgotten.

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Jim: Swampy Water-Colored Memories

It’s been said that music, for some people, can trigger long-forgotten memories. A song from their youth can bring to mind dramatic moments from an earlier time.

For me, it’s odors. Jasmine and sea-spray remind me of walking hand-in-hand along a shell-strewn shoreline with my first girlfriend. Cigar smoke and Chanel #5 bring forth thoughts of my deceased parents urging me to excel at school and in sports.

Urging and pushing. Insults and jeers. And the punishments for failure.

The stink of stagnant water also reminds me of my parents, when I drove their lifeless bodies down to the bayou.

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David: It's The Little Things That Getcha

That was the worst New Year’s Eve party I’d ever had the shame of throwing. We had champagne and balloons. There was a live band, too small to be called an orchestra, but in that general style. People were dancing. The caterers had four kinds of hors d’oeuvres.

And, of course, we had a huge clock, custom-built, spanning one wall, so we could count down the end of the century in grand, classical style. Being so busy with other party details, I didn’t even notice the problem until the band started belting out Auld Lang Syne a full hour early.

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Tanya: Nearly

“Oh my god, George. The water’s almost up to the door of the car. Come ON!”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“You’ve got the kids, right, Cindy? Ok, strap them in. I’m just going to grab some bottled water from the pantry.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Honey, the water’s still rising. Get out here.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Ok, I’m coming. Stop crying.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Mommy, where’s Mickey?”

“I love you. I love... woof.”

“Jesus, George. Get the DOG.”

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Dave: The Memory Eaters

"Chrys?"

She was behind him, leg sweeping, driving his head into the polished wood of the floor.  Hard.

When the star shells stopped going off in his skull, she was atop of him, fury in her eyes, a long, ceremonial dagger in her hand, and his throat. 

"What are you doing in my house?" she hissed.  "How do you know my name? Did the Jade Court send you?  Did Lin Shao send you?"

Roger thought of Lin Shao hiring him, and couldn't help but smile.  "I think you've forgotten how Lin feels about me.  I think you've forgotten a lot of stuff, Chrys."

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Stacy: We Fix Futures

Their marriage had never been ideal, but she’d always tried so hard. It wasn’t until their second year together that he hit her.

Things only got worse after their son was born. It took all her energy to keep the violence focused on her instead of the boy.

Then one day he came home and didn’t recognize them. They were strangers to him.

She apologized for trespassing and left the house with the boy. Outside, a man stood next to a nondescript sedan with a set of keys. She handed him a thick envelope and drove away with her son.

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