Week 9 Prompt II

I came, I saw, I caught it (Most of the time)

I ran in on the ball, and dove for it. The coach was excited, as not many ten year olds try to dive, let alone actually make the play, even though it was a practice.

***

I was in centerfield, and a line drive was hit to shallow left field. The left fielder was unable to get to it, and it filtered through the gap. The same left handed batter came up to bat, and I felt certain he would hit it to the same spot. I moved in, though not too much, and when the ball was hit I ran in and dove for it, making the catch and somersaulting to my feet for the third out.

***

I ran in, prepared to dive on the ball the coach hit, but it was dropping too quickly, so I dove and managed to stop it on the bounce.

“I think you dive too much,” the coach said.

***

I ran in on it. I knew that if I caught it, the game would be over. I dove, closing my eyes for some reason, and it ricocheted in and out of my glove. The pitchers had been invalid though, so we got another chance at it, and I just took it on the bounce and threw him out at the plate, though the umpire called the runner safe.

***

I was playing first, and ran in and dove for the pop up. I caught it, and rolled over. The umpire ruled that I didn’t catch it. We ended up winning the game 34-1 anyhow.

***

The ball was hit in the gap, and I ran and dove, the ball glancing off the tip of my glove. That ended up being the winning run.

***

The pitch I threw was popped up, and I ran towards it, and dove. I caught it forehand, and landed on my glove elbow, jarring the ball out and up into the air. I rolled over, looked up, and caught the ball barehanded.

***

I ran from third base into foul ground, and laid out and caught it in front of the third base coach for the opposition.

“That was one heck of a catch,” he said, and high fived me.

***

It was a perfect easy line drive for a diving catch, and I ran in from center. I dove, but did not extend my glove quite far enough, and it glanced off my glove. It was the first time I had missed a diving catch in three years.

***

The ball was hit out to me in right, and I came in a good deal, having figured out that the lights made the ball go shorter than it appeared it would. It plunged, and I dove to make sure I caught it. It was good I had, for it was the state tournament game.

***

It was thrown a good bit over my head, and I dove and made the catch, sliding along the hardwood.

“This is a gym you know,” another player informed me.

“I know.”

“You could get killed diving on it.”

“It hasn’t happened yet.”

Week 8 Theme

I opened 8.1. I checked problem 2. It wasn’t it. I tried in the middle, it wasn’t it. I then tried 8.3. 8.4, and 8.7. I checked them throughout and could not find the problem.

“It will be difficult to do trigonometric substitution on the calculus test if I can’t find how to do it,” I thought.

***

“Hey Felicia, what are you going to do your speech on?”

“I was thinking of making a modular origami cube.”

“Just a cube?”

“Well, maybe I will have more time.”

“You will have six minutes.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Could you help me on this?”

“Sure.”

“Trigonometric substitution.”

“Oh, you take this, and here is the list. If it is in the form of ‘a’ squared minus ‘x’ squared, then you use sine…”

***

“Oh, practice test,” another student said looking down at what was at a student’s vacated table.

“The recitation teacher handed them out on Friday,” I explained. “I hope you are prepared for the test without the practice test.”

“Well, I didn’t get to do 8.7, because I thought it was due on Saturday but it was really due on Friday. I got to look it over in the book once, but once.”

“It helps to do the problems to, to get them in your head,” I remarked.

“Definitely.”

“I don’t know if I will be prepared with a practice test or not,” I said. “It doesn’t seem too bad, it only has 16 problems.”

“Then the test will probably have five or six.”

“It has evaluate the improper integral-“

“That’s what was in 8.7,” he said.

“Well then, it would seem you’re in trouble,” I said. “It basically is that when one of the limits is infinity, you take the limit of the integral as ‘a’ approaches infinity, then change the limit from infinity to ‘a’…”

***

I knew that this was the problem where something was supposed to cancel. Otherwise, with e to the x power in it, the integration by parts would just keep on forever. I looked up. It was the center fielder from my baseball team walking by the classroom.

“Hey Tomas, Tomas!” he called as he passed by with his friend. I heard them talking as they went down the hallway, “That kid is sixteen, and taking Calculus II.”

“Really?”

I was glad the teacher was not in the classroom at that moment. He would not have appreciated the disturbance.

***

I set my test upside down on top of the others on the teacher’s desk. It had gone well, I thought, though I would not know for certain until Wednesday. I walked out the door, preparing my mind for baseball practice.

Week 8 Prompt III Clarification

36. A city street--

I crossed the street to the gym. A few of the players were already waiting to carpool to the field. We sat on the concrete blocks waiting for the rides to come. The president of the college pulls in smoothly and goes into the gym to look at the progress being done in preparing it for the chef competition. I wish our college didn't engage in publicity and money stunts.

***

The truck pulled up, and a bunch of players jumped in. They pulled out, and I was left with the first player, waiting for the next ride.

***

A car pulled up with another student waiting for a ride, player 2.

"Hello," he said in a silly voice, "What's your name?" He changed to a more serious tone: "There's no one else

waiting for a ride?" he asked. “Just us three?”

"Six of them already left," I said.

"I thought the coach said 4:30,” he exclaimed, “It's just past four."

"Well, the first ride came and  filled up his truck and left. We're waiting for the other person."

"Who already left?"

After the first player who was waiting with me went through trying to describe all the players he didn't remember the names of, I went through and listed them all out by name.

***

The ride pulled up almost to our feet. The driver got out.

"Hello, what's your name?" was asked by the second player to the driver.

"Joe Smooth," he replied. "Since you're short, you probably should go in the back."

"Who are you calling short?"

"Just watch the stuff in the back."

We stuffed ourselves in on top of his sweatshirts, shoes, bags, papers, etc. We took off, with the radio blasting directly behind my head. I thought in my head "At least the seatbelts all work."

***

"I was coming here going 70 in the 55 zone, and there was this white truck trying to pass me, and I was like who is this idiot in the white truck trying to pass me. We had been alongside each other a while, so I looked over and it was the coach."

He was a relatively safe driver anyhow. He drove pretty carefully, though was exceedingly jerky pulling in to merge. He didn't change the radio until we were going straight though. The radio worked better the faster we went. The players all turned their hats backwards so as not to be blown off from the wind pouring in through the wide open windows.

"Does this seatbelt works?" one of the players asked.

"No," the driver replied.

At that point I noticed he wasn't wearing one either.

***

It wasn't all that far, and we made it there without rolling over.

"We'll carpool tomorrow too, and probably for the foreseeable future," the coach said.

Week 8 Prompt III

36. A city street--

I crossed the street to the gym. A few of the players were already waiting to carpool to the field. We sit on the concrete blocks waiting for the rides to come. The president of the college pulls in smoothly and goes into the gym to look at the progess being done in preparing it for the chef competition. I wish our college didn't engage in publicity and money stunts.

***

The truck pulled up, and a bunch of players jumped in. They pulled out, and I was left with another player waiting for the next ride.

***

A car pulled up with another student to carpool.

"Hello," he said in a silly voice, "What's your name?"

"There's no one else waiting for a ride?" he asked.

"Six of them already left?"

"I thought the coach said 4:30, it's just past four."

"Well, he filled up his truck and left. We're waiting for the other person."

"Who already left?"

After the other person went through trying to describe all the players we didn't remember the names of, I went through and listed them all out by name.

***

The ride pulled up almost to our feet. The player got out.

"Hello, what's your name?" was asked to the driver.

"Joe Smooth," he replied. "Since you're short, you probably should go in the back."

"Who are you calling short?"

"Just watch the stuff in the back."

We stuffed ourselves in on top of his sweatshirts, shoes, bags, papers, etc. We took off, with the radio blasting directly behind my head. I thought in my head "At least the seatbelts all work."

***

He was a relatively safe driver anyhow.

"I was coming here going 70 in the 55 zone, and there was this white truck trying to pass me, and I was like who is this idiot in the white truck trying to pass me. We had been alongside each other a while, so I looked over and it was the coach."

He drove pretty carefully, though was exceedingly jerky pulling in to merge. He didn't change the radio until we were going straight though. The radio worked better the faster we went. The players all turned their hats backwards so as not to be blown off from the wind pouring in through the wide open windows.

"Does this seatbelt works?" one of the players asked.

"No," the driver player replied.

At that point I noticed he wasn't wearing one either.

***

It wasn't all that far, and we made it there without rolling over.

"We'll carpool tomorrow too, and probably for the forseeable future," the coach said.

Week 8 Prompt II

31. Eeenie, meenie, minie, moe, catch a rabbit by the toe....

"Page 29 is the vocabulary page," my sister said.

"Yes, that's it," the teacher replied.

"I didn't know I was supposed to read the chapter!" Felicia exclaimed.

"Oh, that's okay, don't worry about it," the teacher said, walking off.

"I didn't either," I told Felicia, "The teacher never told us to, don't worry, it doesn't matter anyhow."

"We're all in the same boat, 'cause I haven't either," the person sitting next to Felicia said.

***

"I think it is D," I said.

"Yes, that looks like it," the other person said, "Hogging the conversation."

"So we have to act it out."

The teacher came back over.

"Yes, it is D," she commented, "So it would be like 'How was your weekend?'"

"Good."

"Mine was great, I went to a movie, enjoyed the great weather, it would be something like that."

She went off again.

"So it's sort of like not waiting for the answer," the other person commented.

"Yes, waiting for the monosyllabic answer," I replied. "I suppose we have to pick one to act out, so it would be something like 'Do you like your purse?'"

"Yes."

"I wouldn't like purses, they are so bulky, and I would just ramble on like that."

"You are good at rambling."

"It helps when I talk as fast as I can while doing it."

***

"Okay, what about you three? Who are you in your roleplay?"

"Oh, college students," I said. "So we just start?"

"Yes, go ahead."

"Do you have a purse?" I asked Felicia.

"Yes, in my bag."

"Oh, I wouldn't like purses, I just think they're too bulky and stuff for me. And they're just so big and you drop everything inside. Do you have a purse?" Turning to the other person.

"Yes."

"I just wouldn't like purses, they're so large to carry around, and you're just sticking stuff in them and their are all these pockets and corners, and everything always vanishes and it seems like things always migrate like they're deliberately trying to escape. Do you ever lose anything?"

"No."

"I can't imagine how you don't lose things, I would be losing things all the time, with all the space, and you're just dumping everything in, and it all just gets jumbled up, and everything always disappears, it is like a drier with socks in purse form, like a black hole or something."

I did all of this talking as quickly as possible.

"What just happened?" someone else asked.

"That's scary, Tom," the teacher said, laughing. "So what listening habit was he doing wrong?"

"Hogging the conversation?" a student asked.

"Yes, except with this it was like 1 percent, 1 percent, and 98 percent. That was scary."

Week 9 Prompt I

A list of random things about me:
1  I can't drive a car and never want to.
2  I have chronic headaches.
3  I enjoy reading obscure early twentieth century authors.
4  I am allergic to pollen, mold, and cigarette smoke.
5  I don't use pencils during college courses.
6  I have broken two windows and a vending machine in my life.
7  I was a ball anti-magnet throughout little league.
8  I wear a baseball hat if I am outside the house.
9  I find that chewing gum is the best remedy for my allergies.
10 I find that wearing a baseball hat is the best remedy for my headaches.
11 Once I had a headache so bad during a test that I lost my short term memory.
12 I have flexible knees, in the (I think) crane stretch, my foot can come up past my knee a good ways.
13 I don't have all that much work for seventeen credits, but it is still too much.
14 I enjoy english if I get to focus on it enough.
15 I will not be one of the 42 percent of people who graduate from college and never read another book in their life.
16 Is my favorite number, also an interesting mathematical number.
17 I don't think vending machines should be stored in a gym next to the basketball hoop.
18 I love playing baseball.
19 In my opinion, swearing only displays that you don't have a better word in your lexicon.
20 I slept at the foot of the bed for most of my life.
21 I prefer concluding lists on uneven numbers.

Week 7 Prompt III

Wadel's longevity assisted her in being the top chicken in the flock, above the roosters or anyone. She was named Wadel after I had decided that when she walked, she looked like she was waddling. Being four or so, I did not know exactly what waddling was, but I decided to call her Wadel, so that the spelling would be different anyhow.

She became quite dominant, as the top chicken, and grew spurs when she reached five years old. That was the oldest a chicken had ever gotten for us at that point, and she really was quite impressive, in being a little more of a loner.

When the weasel attacked the coop late at night, she was awake enough to fight back while the roosters hid in the nesting egg boxes, and even to wound the weasel. Unfortunately, it also wounded her, and she died. It came back later that day and we shot it.

Wadel was buried in the woods, with a red white and blue ribbon tied around a stick over her grave.

Week 8 Prompt I

35. Three of them sitting there in complete silence.

I looked up from my homework, and saw what I always saw, the vending machines. They sat across from me. The sight of vending machines was not all that pleasing, though the sound was even worse, with people screaming and playing loud music in the lounge nearby.

***

I sat in the back corner of the library. The quiet was much more pleasing to me for doing homework. I did not feel bad for abandoning the vending machines.

***

I pulled my glove out of my bag and went out to play pass. It did not look like a safe place to me for playing baseball. It was a basketball gym with doors and things! Everywhere I looked there seemed to be doors or windows of glass, openly exposed to errant throws. Then I looked into the back corner. "Hello, you again."

***

The vending machines in the corner apparently were stored there for safety, which made no sense to me. After a while I just took all the breakable things for granted. So many people keeping drilling throws off of one of them made it a lot easier to take it for granted. As I did the players calling me Tomas, which led to a few calling me Tomahawk because they could not pronounce it.

***

"Here," the player said, "When he comes we'll go three way."

The other player came, and we threw three way for a bit. Having been using soft baseballs for fielding, the hard one for throwing stung my hand a little bit when I caught it. We had thrown for five minutes or so when my throw sailed a little bit on me. Unconcerned, we watched it skip, bounce off a table, and then hit the vending machine. But it hit a different one, with glass on the front. There was a quiet crack.

***

The three of us stood looking at it.

"Did it break?" one of them asked me.

"It looks like it," I replied.

The other player had already retrieved the ball, and someone else who happened to have been walking by who presumably worked at the gym had looked at it and gone off.

"Who threw that?" another player asked.

"It wasn't me," I said to him, with a smile. "No it was me," I corrected.

We went on throwing, though I had us move away from the vending machines eventually, as throwing at them was now making me uncomfortable. As we threw, every minute or so I heard the tinkle of more broken glass falling off.

I took the opinion that if it was broken, there certainly wasn't anything I could do about it.

***

I had assumed the coaches had noticed it, but when the director of the program came to look at it, the coach who was there was surprised by it. Up close, I could see what I had thought was a small crack was actually a gaping hole, and the hole door was shattered, like when a car hit another car head on and the windshield got demolished. The director said that it was to be expected with baseball in a gym, but that we should put a mat up over the vending machines next time. I apologized, but he said that it was fine. And the players got even more reason to call me Tomahawk.

***

Later in the practice I threw the ball, and it ricocheted off the first baseman's glove, almost behind the mat.

"Tomas, if you break another freaking vending machine," the coach said in a joking tone, "We're taking it out of your pocket. Or adding it to your tuition."

***

The next practice, we went to throw again.

"Coach, can we put the mat up?" I asked.

"Oh yes, we should," he assented. "Are you nervous you might hit one again?"

"I'm going to be scared of vending machines for the rest of my life," I replied.

Week 7 Prompt II

Check out Carolyn See Locator of Lost Persons --those short, very evocative, mysterious, and poetic grafs. Try a few of those!

You were the eye doctor my mother was having my sister and I go to. The nurse at the doctor office had given us a white plastic thing to hold over one eye so that all I could see was the white thing, and had to read letters on the opposite wall. I did not fare so well naturally, and we went to you. You seemed like a nice person, but tried to put eyedrop stuff in my eyes. I have extremely sensitive eyes, and even though you kept saying things like "It only stings a little!" I would cry out each time from the pain, as it was the most painful thing I had ever experienced second to hyperextending my pinky. He would also push lights up to my eyes so that they were touching my eyelashes, and blind me with them. And I didn't need glasses anyways, as I had already known. Felicia had been the one who needed them, not me.

"You don't need them now, but soon you will probably be like your sister. Come back next year."

We went to a different one the next year, who did not stick things in my eyes or touch my eyelashes or blind me, and who said that my eyesight was perfectly fine, but had us get glasses just in case I ever wanted them.

You were sitting at the teacher's desk when he came into our first math class. The teacher kindly informed you that he needed to use that table, and that he needed to find another place to plug his laptop in to. You seemed to have some sort of disability, as you were constantly making jokes throughout the class that were annoying the teacher. You did not return again.

You were playing on another baseball team and pitching against us. I always felt bad for your team since we always beat you by at least thirty runs with our best players playing the minimum, and players pitching for the first time. I went home on a passed ball and you fell down as you ran to cover the plate while I was sliding in, and I accidentally cleated you in the neck. I was safe, and the next time we played you pitched again, and threw 8 straight balls through my two at bats because you were mad at me and throwing as hard as you could trying to strike me out. I played with someone from your team later on the all star team for a couple of years who I thought was you. Eventually, I apologized to him for cleating him four years earlier, and he said that he was glad it hadn't been him cleated in the neck.

Week 7 Prompt I

Who's the first person you remember?

Consider this part II to the person graf from last semester. Last semester I wrote about a person who sat behind me in my math class. At the second class, I turned around, and noticing that he had a friendly appearance, asked him if this was the correct math class, as the one thing I was terrified of was being in the wrong class.

"I don't know," he responded, "Except that you were sitting over there in that corner last time."

And it seemed that with my act of friendliness in talking to him, it opened the floodgates of his loquacity. Just about every class he would talk to me before the teacher came in, about various things. About how he had injured his right knee playing soccer, and was learning to be more ambidextrous with his feet. How he had seen someone he had known waiting to come into the dorms, but could not let them into the building until the person they were waiting for came to get them. And other topics throughout the semester.

It was actually quite nice to come into the class and have someone who would be friendly and talk to me each time. After the class ended, I occasionally would see him around the campus, and he would say "Hey, long time since I've seen you," and ask what math class I was taking now. And throughout all of this, I never knew his name.

I walked into the gym, and went up to the desk.

"I'm looking for the baseball team?" I queried.

The lady at the desk led me to the coach on the other side of the gym. I was surprised that I recognized someone from my calculus class there. Then, I was even more surprised, when we were stretching, when I looked over, and next to me was "the person from my algebra class".

"Hey, long time since I've seen you," he said, "What math class are you taking now?"

Since then, he has played pass with me the majority of the practices. And I found out his name.

Week 7 Theme

"Oh! Another play in Sports Illustrated ten worst play of the year!" the coach exclaimed.

Naturally, I was nervous at the tryout. And no, the coach saying things such as this was if anything rather detrimental to me. He was constantly making fun of players, me in particular. It was my first season out of little league, on the school team, and even though I knew the majority of the players, the coach did not make it easy for me.

On the first tryout, he had me helping the other students with their algebra.

"You're in ninth grade, you can help them."

Unfortunately, at that point I was still rather struggling with algebra myself, and was only able to say

"I don't know."

And his expression displayed his thoughts clearly that he thought if I didn't know this, I should not be in ninth grade.

There was one time that after we had ended the- for me- terrifying experience of riding the school bus to the field, that the batting helmets which were stringed together fell apart when someone tried to pick them up.

"Who took them onto the bus?" the coach asked.

"I did," I admitted.

"Look, just go home," he told me. "Go home!"

Being terrified of him, I glanced around me nervously.

"You don't have a humorous bone in your body, do you?" he asked in a scornful manner.

"No I don't," I said, glad to have something I could fully comprehend in my petrified state.

On the school bus to another game, he started asking me about what I did in homeschool that day. At that time, I was to the point where I was mainly struggling with algebra and chemistry (Which to me, struggling was taking a few months to start to understand it. And everything else I had already completed. And sometimes I had to take a break from these two subjects I was struggling with. But I did not want to say that I had not really done anything that day, so I said the truth, that I had mostly done science.

"Really?" he responded disparagingly, "We have science day on Friday, apparently Tom here has it on Tuesday."

Later, he asked me another question:

"What television do you watch? Do you watch Gossip Girl, One Tree Hill..."

He went on to list of a bunch of programs I had heard of in advertisements, that I said "no" for each time.

"Hey everyone!" he exclaimed to the entire bus of the baseball, softball, and track team, "I found out Tom's favorite TV show, it's Sesame Street!"

At some points, I thought of quitting because I was so uncomfortable because of him and the bus rides, but I continued, and returned the next year.

The next year, I could realize what he was doing. He did the exact same thing he did to me at the tryout, sort of razing the youngest or unknown players, making them feel like part of the group. This year, I was comfortable with his teasing, and was able to tease back.

He kept picking on me for just barely missing out on a perfect game by two walks in the third inning of a game we won 20-0 in three innings.

"Why did you have to walk them? You cost us the perfect game!"

I made a diving catch where I caught it, landed on my elbow jarring the ball up into the air, I rolled over, looked up, and caught the ball barehanded. I walked back into the coach in the dugout.

"I'm so sorry Tom," he said, "Sports Illustrated just left. Just left."

I made another diving catch at the end of the year, and he said "Sports Illustrated was here for this one Tom."

In one year I was able to understand him better, and to really appreciate him. The other players said that on the final test, he didn't want anyone to fail, so he gave them all hundreds without looking at it. One player said how he only did the first page of four, and the teacher gave him a hundred.

He had an unusual style of teaching, and coaching, but he most definitely cared about his players.

Week 6 Prompt II Retry

Bald Mountain sounded like an unusual place. My sister and I were going to go up Bald Mountain with our cousin to go geocaching, which is looking for a box of items using GPS coordinates and hints.

The climb was at a high gradient, which was not a problem for me, though we did stop every now and then. The view down was amazing, as there were hardly any clouds in the sky, so the view of the trees and hills beyond was a brilliant green.

We reached a point where the GPS led us off the trail, and we began looking about the trees. We looked around for a while. It was supposedly a 4 star relatively difficult one, and the hint said to look up, which suggested that it was in a tree. After ascending a few trees, we gave up for the moment and continued to the top.

Once there, we looked for the other geocache. A little way in, we discovered a cabin that was probably the fire watch cabin. It was in quite dilapidated condition. It had a mattress torn apart and scattered all over the cabin, there were wasps nests on the ceiling, the door had mysteriously vanished somewhere, there were beer cans and potato chip bags scattered about in the other general filth. It smelled awful, so we took a few pictures of us standing inside, then scrounged about outside the cabin for the geocache.

We looked for probably ten or fifteen minutes, and had pretty well given up when I spotted it under some rocks. I dragged it out. It was a plastic tupperware style container, soggy with slugs and things on the outside. I opened it, and some muddy water sloshed out. The way geocaching is conducted is that you can take something from the cache, and replace it with something else. There was not much in this soggy container we wanted, like the indistinguishable one-time deck of playing cards. We took nothing from that one, though my cousin put some trinket or other inside. We returned to the first geocache we had looked for, and commenced are search for this 4 star one again. We looked in more trees, went down to the edge of the cliff dropoff, came back, eating blueberries. Once again, we had pretty well given up, when my cousin spotted the container under the ground level branches of a pine tree. He pulled it out, and we exchanged a few things, as fortunately this container was not soaked.

We then returned, victorious in two geocaches. Later, my cousin looked at the geocaching site, and found a comment from someone saying "I found this cache, but it was in a tree, and I thought that was really dangerous and not right, so I moved it to the ground. I just realized that some people might have difficulty in finding it now. Sorry."

Week 5 Prompt III Retry

When I was younger, I had a habit of running and hiding whenever something unpleasant to me appeared upon the television. For example, a character I disliked in a television program. One appeared when I was about six, and I ran to hide behind a chair. On the way, I stepped on a thorn that was embedded in the rug, but became embedded in my heel.

After the offending character had vacated the screen, I went to the kitchen, where my mother was on the phone with my aunt.

"I need some help," I told her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I have something stuck in my foot."

"Then take your sock off."

"I can't."

"I'm just helping Tom," she explained into the phone. "Let me see it," she said.

I held my foot up.

"Let's take your sock off," she said.

"You can't," I said.

"Why not?"

"The thorn is through my sock."

She looked at it.

"Oh!"

She worked in removing the thorn from my heel, while continuing to talk to my aunt on the phone.

And I don't think she ever asked me how the thorn got there in the first place.

Week 5 Theme

I hurried to the chicken coop. The door creaked open, and I looked in. Willow was laying on her side. She was only a year or so old, yet had such a personality that I had developed great attachment to her.

And now she was laying on the floor, dying.

I sat next to her, and desperately attempted to get her to eat. She refused any sort of food, so I tried water. She could not get her beak into the water bowl, so I put a little on a cupped leaf, and set the leaf next to her beak. She did not drink.

I had a cold, and all this smell of dust and such was not good for my throat, but I stayed with her. Normally, my sister takes care of the chickens but I really loved Willow, how she was more friendly then almost any of the chickens, how she would push her way to the front and do anything for food.

Now, she stood up, but it was only to shift over a little ways. She was beginning to convulse, as I stroked her wing, telling her "Please Willow, don't die, please!" I was quite distraught by this point, and was reluctant to accept that she was dead for several minutes. And I was left with the great memories of her, and sadness at the great life and memories she might have left.

Week 6 Theme

"There's a place so dark you can't see the end"

I watched the robot make it's way down the narrow tunnel, darkening until I could just barely make out its dim form at the end of the blackness. I hurried after it, and scooped it up. I carried it back into the brightly lit classroom.

"It works!" I exclaimed to my partner.

"Let's see it," he commented.

I had been assisting teaching these junior engineering programs for several years, and this one was more for people who had taught or were really smart for the most part, only about six or eight people. I had designed the program and thought I had it good. It was by far the most difficult program I had ever embarked upon, considering that most programs were relatively simple. I started it and set it towards the wall. It drove forwards, and halted a short distance before the wall as its ultrasonic sensor sensed the wall. The robot then spun in a circle until the ultrasonic sensor saw nothing within several yards, then it went straight again. And it worked. Unlike most times we would use the robots, I could walk away and leave it, and come back and it would not have hit a wall yet. My partner, who really knew these robots and their programming, declared that my program was "Brilliant". To me now it seems exceedingly simple, but at the time I was highly excited at the weeks long process finally working, just on making the program.

***

"There's a place so dark you can't see the end"

Someone had evidently thought it would be funny to turn off the light in the hallway. My vision down the passageway ended quite abruptly, seemingly where all the people were, who would suddenly emerge into me. I slipped through the door to the calculus class. I recognized the other students, but was a little discombobulated in that they were seated facing the wrong direction. The chalk board was behind them. I turned a chair around and sat down facing the correct way that the teacher always taught.

"Do we sit this way?" one of the other students asked.

"Yes," I replied.

The other students turned their chairs around to face the proper way, and I wondered how after two classes, they could not remember which way to sit.

***

"There's a place so dark you can't see the end"

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could barely make out the end of the teacher's table in his office. He exited his office, and came over to us.

"Well, there goes the power," he remarked. "

"Good thing the laptops are full power," Felica said.

"So you can keep doing math, right?" he asked.

"Yes, we are all set," Felicia said. "You can really hear the rain in here."

"Yes, the rain always sounds especially loud in here," he said, "But it really is coming down, isn't it. You're all set?"

"Do you have a calculator?" I asked.

"Oh sure."

"My calculator runs on solar power, and doesn't have a battery."

The teacher laughed. "Okay, I have one."

"Do you have another one?" someone else asked. "I think mine runs on solar power too."

***

"There's a place so dark you can't see the end"

I was in a halo of light, which extended only in a several yard radius from me. Beyond was nought but pitch. Ominous shapes loomed beyond, and Linkin Park's "Forgotten" played in my head. The darkness extending after my light was so complete that I could feel myself staring at individual pieces of dark- never a good thing. The light I was in was strong, yet was fading against the onslought of iniquity ahead.

"Felicia!" I called, "Turn on a light, are you nocturnal or something?"

She looked up (presumably) from the living room.

"Oh, I hadn't noticed."

"There's a place so dark you can't see the end"