Another Drabble

Times like these made all the rest of the bullshit worthwhile. Time and space narrowed down to the tiny bubble of here. The wind, the feel of the bark, the startled calls of confused birds disturbed by a sudden lack of noise. All the worries of the world gone, just the rhythm of branch, grab, leap, branch, brain three leaps ahead. The months of training, the "character building" chores, the mumbo jumbo, all boiled down to their useful bits right now, skipping by while gravity was looking the other way. Here, the forest was a highway. Just don't look down.

Mrs. Henderson's Fifth Grade Projects

"This is my report on Rock and Roll. Rock and Roll is the greatest music in the world, because it was inspired by the Devil and the anguish and heartache of black culture in the American South in the early twentieth century. It took off once it was copied wholesale by a few marketable white guys whose implied sexual potency and electric guitars drove impressionable young ladies wild. Since then its inherent better-ness has helped it take over the world."

"Suzie dear, did you write this yourself?" Mrs. Henderson asked.

"Mostly. These nice people on Usenet helped a little."

Man

I totally have to learn not to turn the computer on in the morning on days off, because there's always a billion just barely interesting things that will keep me distracted and I won't get any exercise or other things done, not even writing. Stupid Internets.