Going over this fence, I managed to get no less than six bruises. What started out as a good idea seemed less smart as I nearly impaled myself. I was stuck in the middle -- couldn't go back to where I was or forward to where I wanted to go. No shock there -- this was territory I knew. Why did I have to climb over the fence? Well, I wasn't supposed to be there. Damn, another situation that made way too much sense to me. I got my dress unstuck and crawled down into the grass. Metaphors are like that -- totally obvious when you're in pain and peril.
I almost never lie around in the grass. But here it's good because the fence reminded me of The Omen which cheers me up a lot. Not like the spate of dumbass horror movies that came after, not that I want to name names, but does Saturday the 14th ring any bells? And I didn't really have time to think about bugs and other creatures in the grass, especially a random squirrel or something that could really put the fear of God in me. I'd have to go back over, but I wasn't thinking about that. I was in the moment, thinking about the shot. The bruises hadn't formed yet, but they would, big round ones in the shape of ringworms. So maybe I was right about the dangers of nature all along. Of course, I'd never blame the metal spikes, the ones that protect even as they harm.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
Drinking Friday the 13th party suggestion:
Shinerbock (the best beer ever -- from Texas, yeah buddy!)
A bunch of horror movies
A person who can cook
Benedictions and Maledictions
Be safe, my sweethearts, on Friday the 13th!