Sunday, August 8, 2010
Can someone invent sleep-blogging?
It's Saturday Centus time!!
So I realize that posting once a week with just a Saturday Centus isn't exactly "posting with a vengeance" like I told myself I would. I have the stories in my head. I even have a few comics started. (Yes, that should be interesting). I just need the time!
This is why sleep has become my biggest enemy (Not to be confused with Gravity, my Arch-nemesis). I never have been much of a fan of sleeping. I mean sure, in the morning, when I wake up and all my muscles have died and gone to heaven, then sleeping seems like pure ecstasy. Given the option though, I'd rather avoid the entire escapade. There are so few hours in a day, and so much I want to do in life, I think of sleep as the Devil stealing my life for 8 hours a day.
After a few calculations, I have discovered that sleep has taken roughly 2,433 days of my mere 20 year life. Wow, see sleep = the Devil. I have tried to use sleeping time to my advantage by trying to lucid dream, and trying to dream up ideas for screenplays. So far no real luck. I'd love it if I could multi-task while sleeping. For instance, I envy sleepwalkers, and if they can sleepwalk to the gym and on the Treadmill without one moment of consciousness, then they are truly living (or is it sleeping?) the dream. All I can really do while sleeping is snore.
Alas, this really has nothing to do with my Centus other than the fact that it is now 2 in the morning, and I'm trying to refuse sleep for a bit longer. Also, I'm probably rambling because there is no word limit and my fingers are celebrating their ability to dance freely.
So, to re-focus, below is indeed my entry for the Saturday Centus this week, hosted by Jenny Matlock at Off My Tangent. Same rules apply as always. You have a prompt you have to use in it's entirety, unaltered, and up to 100 words of your choosing to create a story. No pictures, no vulgarity, no praising Miley Cyrus.
The prompt this week is:
"Objects in the rear view mirror are closer than they appear."
In my Centus the prompt is in bold. I call this Centus, Divorce: An Unfinished Road Trip
Divorce: An Unfinished Road Trip
They thought the drive would last forever.
Their love, a 1998 Corvette, once the envy of everyone's eye, had battled mountains. Valleys. Sunrises. Sunsets. Now tired, worn, it struggled to drive.
Paint chipped, seats torn, windshield mud-splattered. Neither passenger saw clearly, but neither admitted.
He steered. She wanted a different path.
She sang oldies. He needed something new.
A pebble popped their tire.
The engine revved one last time. The battery sputtered a last goodbye. They exited.
Objects in the rear view mirror are closer than they appear. They couldn't be farther apart.
After 12 years,
on the side of the road, they left it. The shell of something once beautiful.