Drinking

 Ugh! We did it again. The club Cardi's is having another kick ass band tonight. I really hate to drink. The taste of beer reminds me of three-day- old lemonade that boiled in the sun, bugs added for spice, and rum and coke just stays on my tongue numbing my taste buds, making my mouth feel like rice paper.
 We've been coming here for months. There must be a shortage of females who like to dance. I'm sure that's why they always waive our cover and serve our drinks for free. We know we won't get drunk because as soon as the drink hits our body it comes back out as sweat from dancing so much. Hmm.I wonder what the bartender would say if we asked for water?
 

 Shadows

  Shadows are visions of dark mirrors, of playful archetypes and foreboding monsters creeping behind or leading the way. Which shadow follows me tonight?
 I can't see. It's dark outside. My shadow is a part of me, only becoming visible in the safety of daylight hours. I saw him clearly in a dream once, daring to reveal secrets in the darkness of the soul's mind. Yes, a he, a masculine counterpart to my female form. We dance together and share stories in the moonlight.
 

 Shopping

 Shopping. Is that what it's called? I feel I'm shopping with every move I make or with every decision I'm faced with. I shop for the street I'm going to walk along today. Will the sights I see be worth my time?
 What do I want to shop for tomorrow? Is there a store that carries the exact word I'm looking for or will I have to compromise? What if the store is out of words? I heard they had a run on them last week at an excellent price. I really must avoid the sales, for I could show up at the party with the same word everyone else is wearing.
 
 
 
 

 Omen

 That stupid little voice, the one telling me what I SHOULD do. "Wear your shoes today, it isn't that much of an imposition to go inside and get your shoes."
 Well fuck you! I never wear my shoes! It's a beautiful spring day and I want to feel the ground beneath my feet and let the grass tickle my toes.
 It was a nice walk, going nowhere in particular, breathing in the sounds and tasting the smells.
 Damn that rock hurt. I reach down to brush it off. Oh shit! It's a piece of glass and it's stuck in there pretty deep...ok, I'll pull it out.
 I look behind me at the trail of blood following each step. Once home I apply pressure to stop the bleeding. Oh no, this toe doesn't seem to move. The doctor said it had severed a tendon. A middle toe permanently stuck in the prestigious position of flipping someone off. A plus when I'm secretly angry!
 That stupid little voice, again telling me what I SHOULD do. "Lock your bike..."
 For some, it takes an immobile toe and a lost bike; which reminds me, my car is on E.
 

 Insect

 She came home from work and immediately headed for the bathroom. A habit left over from her school days, holding it in, waiting for her own private sanctuary.
 Today her sanctuary had a guest. A piece of minty green dental floss was inching its way very slowly across the floor.
 Her attention piqued, she inspected it further. One lonely, very determined ant, had staked claim to her discard. She watched his labor for a while, took note of his progress, and headed to bed.
 After an hour or two she awakened and remembered her guest. Checking on his progress she found he had moved only an inch and had most surely tired himself greatly because he was only a tiny sleeping speck. She tickled him with the floss and he latched back on in his highly determined manner and immediately made a good half-inch of progress. She wondered where his friends were. Ants usually work in groups, she thought to herself. She would help if she could but he wasn't telling her where he was headed.
 She busied herself around the house and decided to check on him a few hours later. Again he was curled into a tiny sleeping speck. When she tickled him with the floss he no longer responded
 If only his friends had known.
 
 
 

 Drive

 The sun, searing through the windshield, turns my bare knees into an unmistakable rosy glow. The windows down, creating a rushing sound, calm, yet sweetly invigorating. Miles of straight road ahead, a bottle of water between my legs, a supply of homemade traveling cassettes, and blue sky above, perfection. This is freedom! No one to care if I sing off-key, I sing louder. Nothing to say, nothing to think, completely in the moment...
 

 Eating

 Write a story about eating? Eating is the Great American pastime. Eating is social, eating is compulsive, and eating creates a host of problems. I resent eating. I eat when I'm bored, and when I'm tired, and when I think I should. When I think of eating I have to constantly equate it with exercise, which makes them both less pleasurable.
 I have found the same control with eating as anorexics have. Thinking I'm in control while it consumes me ultimately.
 Eating, truly eating, means a luscious chocolate mint candy bar or a Zingerman's chocolate chip cookie, rich with the aroma of butter and the distinct crunch of walnuts. Eating, in reality means, a rich chocolate/banana protein smoothie spiked with mint extract, 400 calories.