100 Words - Yo Yo

If I wanted to listen to heavy metal I would listen to heavy metal. So much of what they call heavy metal sounds like tin foil to me. The hair bands. What's the point? It was the past and now it isn't. Now it's what we, till recently, called the future. Plays on words. Tense about tense. Emotional yo-yos befitting a dick joke. Up, down, in, out. Insert masturbation metaphor here. Did I write that out loud? No, I keyed it gently in. Liquid crystals dancing into words. So fleeting. Like a proctologist's nurse. Why do I write these things?

100 Words - The Painting

The dirty old hippie pulled an old little red wagon. In the wagon was a weird painting that at first looked like nothing but green glow-in-the-dark paint but when you looked straight into it, like one of those magic eye pictures, you could see things. But unlike the magic eye pictures which have one hidden image this one had many layers and everyone who looked at it saw something different. The hippie said I could have it for the forty dollars he needed to buy heroin. I gave him the forty dollars. The painting hangs on my living room wall.

100 Words - Life on Film

I have a song stuck in my head, only I love this song and never want it to stop. It could be the soundtrack to my life. Like if people were watching a movie of my life this would be the background music. It sums up my moods throughout the stages of my life working backwards from the second verse being how I feel now through the fifth and final verse which was my childhood. I can only assume that the first verse will be my old age. If so, my life's film is four minutes and fifty-six seconds long.

100 Words - Incomplete Glory

Songs of love and incomplete glory. The metal flesh so inviting. Reach out and touch me when I sleep. Shivers of consciousness. Rolling away, pausing, understanding, rolling back into an awkward embrace. The fear of the pain that I will see but never feel. Distance allows a gentle kiss then pulls back. Walls leap to guard the crystal being. Electricity fades. A voice sings somewhere inside us both. A long high note of tragic beauty. The crystal body shudders. The voice holds just below the point of breaking then fades. The crystal is safe again. I roll over not sleeping.

100 Words - Context

Sometimes I feel like a nostril collecting words of snot in my fine little hairs waiting for the finger to come take the words away and put them down on paper somewhere. Other times the words stain the paper like blood flowing from the wounds in my self esteem.

"Writers of fiction." He spat the word fiction like it was a crime against humanity. He may not be wrong.

I built a tall tower with no foundation. Now it sinks into the swamp of my longing. Starting over and over, running in a circle of creative options. Defining without context.

Bike Project Updates

eBaby
I finally got the front deraileur working exactly to my liking. The breakthrough was to loosen the clamp and rotate it ever so slightly. The blades are now aligned perfectly. (Thanks to Sheldon Brown’s website for that tip.)

Glamour Puss
Managed to straighten the handlebars. The trick was that I had to loosen the headset and not just the bolt holding the handlebars on. That one I discovered on my own.

100 Words: Music Breathing

Music. Breathing. Another nightmare. Jesus save me from myself. Scary things in the dark. Hairy things crawling inside the walls. Things of my own unwanted invention. An accidental Frankenstein. Powers hidden unhidden, revealed to no one. It's all in my head, but that doesn't mean it isn't real.

Music. Breathing. Calm returns. The heart monitor stops beeping. I am safe again. The dreams will not take my life tonight. I've won another dawn. The rising sun floods my little room and warms my eyes. Off to a quiet sleep. Nightmares only happen behind cold eyes. Sunshine dreams have no fear.

100 words - Brewster's Fog

Walking slowly through Brewster's Fog, candy-flavored smoke swirling behind her, she pauses to check her reflection in the bike shop window. She frowns at the spokes across her wavy face and turns away. Voices from three floors above the pavement float down and whisper in her ear secrets muffled and garbled by height, wind and moisture. She closes her eyes and listens to the whispers believing what she doesn't understand. Footsteps in the distance set her in motion though she knows it's not him. His feet make no sound till they're running away from another slit throat. She walks away.

100 words(x3) - Roadvision

I have visions of a dirt road somewhere. I don't recognize it. There are few trees but they're green. There is no grass. The ground is dry but not sandy. It isn't a desert or farmland. The road is worn but not rutted. The sky is gray. The sun weak. The road slopes gently downward. I can see a long way. Just before the horizon the dirt road meets a paved road running diagonally across it. I can't tell if the dirt road continues after the intersection. I'm afraid of this road. It goes somewhere I don't want to go.

I find myself on a bike. Not an uncommon position for me. The dirt road beckons and cautions. I release the hand brake. The bike rolls. I squeeze the brake again. The bike stops. I am in control. I can stop this if I have to. For a moment I'm tempted to look back, to see what's behind me. To see what pursues me. Pushes me. I resist. To look back would be to wake up. Dreams, unwanted or not, will tolerate no safety net. I let go brake. I roll forward. Soon speed is upon me. Too much speed.

My heart races, threatening to explode. I sit light in the saddle. My arms and legs pump up and down with the ripples in the road. I'm not afraid, I'm exhilarated. I know that if I fell I would be awake before I hit the ground. With a violent jerk and twitch I am lying in my bed, my heart pounding, betrayed by the knowledge of safety. Only in danger can we find the truth. I breath deeply several times. Three seconds inhale. Six seconds exhale. I am calm again. I am sad again. Another dream wasted. Another road lost.

Bike Project Update - Schwinn Aerostar

A new bike! I picked it up on ebay for $10. I did some research before bidding and found that this is one of Schwinn's best 20" kids bikes. It sells for almost $200 new. The listing on eBay was very sparse and I don't think anyone else noticed that it was such a good little bike.

It doesn't need much work, mostly just cleaning and adjustments. The handlebars were crooked. The reflectors were crooked. The rear wheel was crooked. All easy fixes. The chain guard was bent out. That was also an easy fix, but there are some paint chips and bare spots. It may be hard to match the paint. The only tricky bit is the brake cable. It was bare in a few places and much too long. Also the gaskets where the cable goes through the frame are both loose and will need gluing.

Now comes the fun part. I have no little kids, and I would feel like a Grinch making money off little kids, so I decided to donate it to some charity. You'd think that would be simple enough. It's not. None of the community bike shops will take it because it's not up their standards. It actually is up to their standards but because it's a Schwinn they assume that it's a piece of junk from some big box store. So then I looked at other, non-bike-oriented, charities. They all want new. Used is no good to them.

So if you know some kid who wants/needs a free cool little bike covered with space stickers let me know. I still have some cleanup to do, but it will ready to go this weekend.