Slice of Life #2: 8.29.17

Harvey, Go Home

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Text messages come flowing into my phone as fast as the waters in the creeks outside.

“Are you safe?”

“Is everyone okay?”

“Let me know if you need help.”

Never in my life has rain been less relaxing. My mind whirls with thoughts of my parents’ house with my childhood inside, the storage room with my life inside, and my classroom with my livelihood inside. When will it end?

The news reports are less than helpful for my immediate area, but show the devastation in downtown Houston. Places I know well and visit often are replaced with lakes created by the Buffalo Bayou and buckets of rain.

It’s weird. As some reports suggest, people are wondering why Houston didn’t evacuate since it is a well-known flood plain. But, being here, you don’t realize how bad it is until it’s bad. When I look out my window, I don’t see standing water. I don’t see the creek overflowing. I only see pictures on television or Facebook. You think it’s over, but then the rain comes again, and you are left wondering: Do I pack a bag? Do I try to get in the car and leave? Do I stay and watch as my belongings and memories sink to the bottom of the water?

Reflection:

I had never thought of writing as a release before this storm. I tried to read my grad school books, but couldn’t get my mind off the words I wanted to write down for this challenge. I really don’t have much to say other than I am luckier than most right now. I have power, food, water, clothes, and my family and friends are safe (for the most part). If you feel called to help, please seek out donations and make sure they are legitimate first. My school district has damaged schools, but Houston ISD will for sure need more help. Teachers will need books, supplies, anything. Thank you.

Slice of Life #1: 8.8.17

A Trip to the Dentist

I may be the only person in the world that isn't afraid of a root canal. Each time I told someone about my upcoming appointment, it was as if someone had died. "Oh my, I'm so sorry," they would say morosely. I started to feel like maybe I should be scared, but I had jaw surgery six years ago and nothing can be as bad as that recovery. 

Ding! I walked into the cozy waiting room. Michelle, the receptionist, had her usual smile plastered on her face as if everyone who enters is as happy to be here as she is. My Valium started working shortly after my arrival, and the room was beginning to spin. The dental assistant took me to the back.

The next thing I knew, the root canal was done. See, I thought to all those people who tried to scare me, that wasn't so bad. 

Reflection

Coming up with an idea for a story was not the hard part of this challenge. It was thinking about how to tell it in a way that didn't drag on. I tend to be wordy with narrative essays. I am working on my figurative language because grad school has taken the creativity in my writing away. I see places that I could expand on--more happened in the chair that I remember, but again, I didn't want to drag it out. 

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