Another year down brings me to 28. Still feel the same as ever. Doing adulty things like going to work, buying cat food, staying up too late watching Youtube videos on creepy phenomenon. The usual.
Been sorta kinda halfway writing - I have some stuff floating around upstairs, but it's not ready to be put on paper yet. It'll come when it's ready. I have another story for the still-missing Norma Jean in the works, this time in a desert canyon setting. I like the notion of developing a series of alternate universes where the defining characteristic is the lack of a character, rather than the presence. I may never solve this mystery
No BodyThere’s no body in Ripple Creek. We combed every inch of the place, from the old, greying chapel at the top of the hill to the bottom of the creek bed our great-great-grandparents named this town for. There’s no body in the forest; no body in the caverns; no body in the folly Crazy Dan built from old bricks and spare lumber.
That’s the thing in the end, isn’t it? There’s no body, so where’s the crime? If Norma Jean’s still alive, she pulled one hell of a vanishing act. No one’s seen so much as a gleam of those blonde corkscrews in six months. Lotta people think she ran off, and that’s that; washed their hands of the whole thing and clapped them together, ready to move on. Too bad they still keep their eyes narrowed.
The rest of us – well, something happened. Dammed if we know what. Her car was parked out on the road near the diner, but Beth swears up and down she never came in for a bite. The cops found her wallet in th
WendigoNorma Jean drew a heart on the back of my hand in hoop snake blood.
“When that fades,” she said, tapping the center of her work, “you may forget about me.”
Norma Jean and I dated on and off through high school and then some. We grew up wandering the forest and exploring the caverns surrounding Ripple Creek, running from the hidebehinds and hodags when we stumbled too far into their territory.
The day Norma Jean disappeared, I saw a teakettler scuttling around the shed behind my place. It walked backwards, like they do, and bumped right into the pile of wood I spent all day chopping. Teakettlers don’t ever stray so far from the woods; they’re very shy. It was actually kind of cute – it looked more or less like a cat, but huskier. I had planned to see about trapping it the next day, to show Norma Jean – course, that didn’t happen after all.
I heard about Norma Jean the next morning, on my way to the general store for a new axe; the ax
CandlesIt started with Norma Jean. She up and disappeared six years ago, and the whole town left too, one by one. First, it was people moving away from the stares and whispers, looking for a place without shadows. Three hundred became two hundred. Then Crazy Dan shot himself. Then it was people moving away from a dying town.
Then it was locked houses, locked stores, owners stepping out for a break and never coming back. Two hundred became one hundred. Beth just left the water running in the diner, dishes piled high in the sink. They’re still there. Grammy Maple went down the road to buy an extra skein of yarn – no one knows what happened to her. Flint Jackman left his denim coat at the post office, and his mail just piles up in the box now. I kept the coat.
Then, it was just me and the mail.
It’s been long enough now that some of the mailboxes are completely stuffed. The Janeies still get letters and catalogues from somewhere. That fancy shaving kit Alder ordered finally cam
The saga thus far.
I'm also working on a creative essay concerning liminality and liminal spaces, so that should be fun once I find my way in.
Been hanging out on Reddit lately - it started with this dumb dress-up game that I honestly don't know why I downloaded in the first place. I was looking up how to get past a certain level when I found the Reddit community and discovered it was hilarious. Then the game killed a main character, war broke out, and now I actually want to know what happens
Look at this frilly girlishness, what was I thinking
YOU HAVE MY ATTENTION.
From there, I discovered a few other places, including a card exchange group that I've been playing around in. I'm a complete sucker for snail mail
Went to the food truck festival for my birthday - not worth it. Lines were outta control, and I didn't even get any good food >.< Didn't like either one of the taco places I tried. Dad did buy me a bag of kettle corn, so not a total loss Really should have gone to the farmer's market instead though.
Work is work. Sometimes it's slow, sometimes the pace picks up. I usually have time to read during the latter half of my shift, so that's nice. And it gives me a good reason to go to Waffle House in the middle of the night (strange hours are the best time to visit Waffle House).