Llenwald

Baffled by the Internet

It’s been a long month, and the site has been quiet as I’ve been piecing together bits and shards.  My friend is gone forever.  I can hear her in the wind, but never face to face.

Imagine my surprise when I see the Llenwald site has received over 500 hits in one weekend.  February 27th.  That’s about 500 more hits than it normally gets.

Where did you all find me?  And why on that most important date?  Are you reaching out to me, beyond this life, to tell me you are okay? Or is this just cosmic coincidence and quiet kiss before bedtime.

I probably will never know.

Entitlement

The following is an actual conversation I had with a lady at the Venetian in Las Vegas.  At the time, I had pulled over a chair to sit next to my husband so we can take turns playing the same slot machine.  We had been sitting there for several minutes:

Lady: “Are you using this machine?” (points to the machine where I’d taken the chair)

Me: “No, help yourself.”

Lady: (pause) “Can I have your chair?”

Me: “Actually, I’m playing this machine with my husband, if you don’t mind.”

Lady: (frowning) “So what am I supposed to do, stand?”

Me: (looking about 10 feet away and pointing) “There are several empty chairs over there.”

Lady: (Mutters to herself and walks off.  Comes back within 30 seconds with a new chair.)  “The next time you take a chair, YOU should have to go and get a new one.”

Me: (ignoring her rudeness)

Lady: “You need to scoot over your chair so I can play.”

Me: (at the end of my limit) “Lady, if you want me to do something nice for you, you should treat me nicely.”

Lady: “I did ask you to do something nice for me.”

My husband: “Lady, there are a bunch of empty slot machines around this casino.  If we’re bothering you, you can choose one of those.”

Lady: “You could find another place to go too!  You both need to grow up.”

I have no doubt that this is how this woman treats everyone she encounters.  I wonder if her entitlement has brought her happiness?

POV

Rose saw the back of a man as he pushed past her in the crowd, knocking her to the cobblestones below.  Then she heard the explosion and felt the heat of a thousand flames licking her back.

Gravid saw the  hooded man cast the spell in front of the bakery, the glass shattering from its force of impact.  He ran after the man into the crowded marketplace, knocking down a few nymphs as he ran.

Uriel saw the table explode in a rash of fire, catching tableclothes instantaneously so that it licked at the ceiling.  He saw orange and yellow snake toward the powder stored in the back and yelled for everyone to get clear.

Windwaker felt her mother pick her up off the floor and rush for the door.  She felt the intense heat, but could not see as people screamed around her.  The explosion killed her mother instantly, and sent her sprawling across the street.

Sgt. Beck was assigned to the case and took all of these eyewitness cases.  Not one of them knew that the arsonist had managed to kill Bark Bailey, the most notorious serial killer in all of Llenwald, which was his original intent.

Soldiers of War

She gathered up the remainder of his belongings.  Not that he had much.  His primer book of spells (he was never really good at magic casting, though he wanted to be a Vizer’s Sage).  His jar of pebbles he gathered from the many places he traveled across the plains.  His lucky, but broken, arrowhead spear which he swore one day he would fix.  And a few scattered bits of clothing he had not taken on his last campaign.

She gathered all of his belongings and placed them in a weaving basket she used for laundry.  Hauling it up on her side, the same way she might carry a baby on her hip, she made her way to the river.

Everything along the way reminded her of him…

…the spot where he broke his wrist falling out of the great oak on the edge of the tribal camp.

…the place where she caught him kissing his first girl.

…the last time she hugged him good-bye on his way out of town.

And when she put the clothes into the river, she surprised herself.  She did not cry.  For the first time, her eyes remained dry as the last of his belongings floated down river.

She imagined she would make a great speech to herself, but all she could mutter was, “I love you, son.”

Across the Sand

A long time ago, a water nymph named Nell lived on the rocky southern shore beaches, lying in the sun and playing to her heart’s content.  She had a pet seal named Suddsie, who would ride the foam waves with her as she went on her oceanic travels.  The pair were like two halves to a whole, never seen apart.

One day, a terrible storm hit the shores, and Nell, playing to close to the coral, cut her arm.  The sea turned red around her, drawing the attention of the many sea predators.  Suddsie pushed Nell toward the surface and helped her limp to shore, to get away from the prying teeth around her.  But just as they reached the shoreline, a great shark grabbed Suddsie by the flipper.  The seal lapped under the water and then vanished, never to be seen again.

Nell searched for Suddsie many days, crying out like the wind across the sand, but Suddsie never appeared.  Her feet soon tired after several days of walking, and she could walk no more.  Falling asleep under the moonlight, she cried herself to sleep.

When Nell awoke, she noticed something had happened to the sand in front of her eyes.  A message had been scribbled, as if by someone with a wide brush stroke.  “Come with me, Nell.”

Nell dove into the ocean and disappeared.

The elders say that Nell still exists.  They say she found Suddsie, and they still frolick along the shoreline.  Her arm, however, has never healed, and if her blood interacts with the foam, it becomes a deadly poison that floats to the shoreline, scribbling warnings to others to stay away from its harmful effects.

It’s Cool to be Negative

One thing I’ve noticed about Earth is how “cool” it is to be negative.  Just the other day, I saw two children (presumably brother and sister) playing in a sandbox.  The boy had a pail and was attempting to build a sand castle, his efforts useless since he had no water.  Still, he did manage to finally get a mound started.  Proudly showing his sister – who was using the sand as a natural desert environment for her plastic stallions – she said, “That’s stupid and a waste of time.”

It’s not just children, but all walks of life.  “Sarcasm,” I’ve noticed, is a way to be cool to bring people down.  I once had barely enough money to purchase groceries and was counting out change when a man behind me said, “Great, glad you could save a few cents, lady.”  I heard one person tell his friend on the bus how much he wanted to start his own webpage, when his other friend said, “Yeah, I bet you’ll have millions going there in no time.”

I hope I never give in to the negativity, although I do fear it’s hard to avoid it.

Risky flexibility

A lot of us struggle to make risky decisions.  Many of us choose to ignore risky decisions.  I didn’t decide to spend six months backpacking around Europe or the Southton Mountains.  I have never been further than my feet take me across the backyard of my homeland.  I have never aspired to try a new job or meet random people at a soiree I crashed.

For the most part, I think it’s good to live within your comfort zone.  But, every once in a while, you’ve got to push yourself.  People who hate their lives, hate their jobs, hate their environment…they generally haven’t tried anything new in a long time.  They’re trying to bend what’s around them to their tastes.

My godmother always said, while flying, you must bend to the wind.  It will not bend to you.

Morning Dash

It’s morning.  Alarm clock.  Quick shower.  Throw on clothes.  Stuff toast in mouth.  Out the door.  Zoom onto freeway.  Music blaring.  Horns honking.  Adjust your lipstick in the mirror.  Text message.  Work.  Coffee.  E-mail. Meetings.

Dash…dash…dash…

Somewhere at there, the sun slowly climbs into the sky as people drift down the street, talking to neighbors, arranging their gardens, taking a moment to take a deep breath.  Lunches are made, children are playing in parks, and errands are done over an hour, even if they could be accomplished in 15 minutes.

Sometimes the journey of getting things done makes the entire day more enjoyable.

The Fear of Silence

Have you ever noticed how damning silence is?

If someone doesn’t talk to you for several days, and that person normally does, you assume the worst, don’t you?  And not the worst about her, but about you.  When you talked to her on Thursday, you mentioned how great her hair looked, but she may have assumed you thought it looked “flat.”  And you let her buy lunch when it was obviously your turn.  And you forgot to wave good-bye as she drove away from the parking lot.

The thing is, silence is just…silence.  Filling the gaps with assumptions can hurt you without the whole story.  Oftentimes, you fill in those gaps with your thoughts, not hers.

The next time you think there’s silence, ask.  It just may save you some heartache.

And sorry I forgot to call you last night, Colin.  I made it safely and all is well.

Trust

I’ve been burned before by promises, by people who have seemed to have my best interest at heart.  The earliest recollection I have is being six summers old with Lilia.  Lilia was my best friend.  She taught me how to make flower chains to wear around my head.  She taught me how to make wishes by blowing off the seeds of dandelions into the air.  And she promised me that she would never hurt me.

Until she turned ten summers and suddenly, the old Symphony who made flower chains wasn’t good enough anymore.

It’s funny how these little life lessons change us.  We learn not to trust people when they certain things.  After you touched a fire once, you shouldn’t touch it again.  Right?

Wrong.

There are times when you can and you should.  Relationships are a little like fire – they are volatile, and they may hurt you.  But just because your first boyfriend was a liar and a cheat, doesn’t mean your second one will be.  If you believe that all people are equal given your experience with one, you will keep narrowing your choices until you have no one left.

Sometimes, getting burned a little is the price we pay for life.  It’s better to pay it than to stop living it.