Carja

Oct 172011
 

Tuesday is the worst day of the week. No disrespect to the god of war Týr (or Tiw if you prefer) for whom the day was named. It just is.

“Mondays are worse…” I can hear you say, but sadly you’re wrong. I take no pleasure in telling you you’re wrong. I’d like for your assertion to be true. But it isn’t.

Monday holds potential. A new week is before us and who knows what wonderful bounties may be in store for us?

By the time Tuesday rolls around, the newness of the week has worn off. Blam! It’s a week just like any other.

Wednesday is the middle of the week. From the top of Wednesday we can see the weekend looming in the distance. It’s an easy climb down and we’re picking up steam. Plus, you know…pay day every other week.

From the top of Tuesday you just see a big hump!

Thursday is a bit of a tease admittedly. The weekend is just beyond our fingertips. But the stores are open late and you can get a jump on your shopping needs, leaving you with that much more free time for the weekend.

The only thing Tuesday can tease you with is three more days of work.

Friday…there’s a reason people give thanks for Friday. The weekend is upon us! You made it through another week and now you can relax for a bit.

I mean why do you think they schedule new DVD and video game releases on Tuesday? To take some of the stink off the day. But even then, you’re probably not going to be able to go out to PICk UP those DVDs until the weekend anyway! And now the big titles are starting to come out on Friday, so there isn’t even THAT to look forward to anymore.

No, Tuesday, you’re the bottom of the barrel.

Oct 142011
 

Read Part 1

A long night? Try endless! Would it ever end? With as cold and wet as he was, the minutes seemed like hours, the hours like days.

The hollowed out log was not as large as he might have liked. He was crammed in with no way of turning around. To make matters worse, there was a long crack along the top of the log. Water continually seeped through, ensuring that he would remain wet throughout the night…if he didn’t freeze to death first.

At least twice, he felt himself dozing off, but the crash of thunder, much too close for his liking, brought him reeling back to his miserable reality. Sleep would remain as impossible to achieve as keeping dry it would seem. He squirmed about in the tight confines of the log, trying to reach a paw into his pocket for the sweetbread he’d brought with him. At least he could eat, though the moist bread brought little comfort to him.

It was hours into the night, when he had reached his lowest point, that he heard it. The most ear-splitting screech one could ever imagine hearing. Only it wasn’t his imagination. It was not unlike the pained howl of metal being torn apart. He tried to convince himself that it was only thunder, that his sleep-deprived mind was playing tricks on him. It failed to reassure him.

A quick flash of lightning made him blink. Was there something moving in the distance? He strained to focus through his goggles. The chemical compound that allowed him to see in the dark had been steadily washed away by the rainwater that seeped beneath the goggles. He would need to create a better seal next time, he told himself. If there was a next time.

The night sky turned white with another intense but brief burst of lightning. The moving object, whatever it was, was closer than before! He could make out its grotesque outline now. It was twice the height of the tallest fur and lean. There were many sharp angles, and few if any curves. It possessed gangly limbs that allowed it to amble about, though its gait was unsteady, as if it would collapse upon itself at any moment.

The ground shook as each heavy, clumsy step brought it closer and closer to his hiding place. He tried to crawl deeper into the log, lest the monster, for that is what it had to be, find him. He could see now that it was made of metal, though it had rusted through in placed, adding to its terrible countenance.

When it was but a few steps away, the metallic monstrosity reared back and let out a blood-curdling screech, revealing it to be the source of the terrible sound he’d heard earlier. He was sure he would die this night, if not by the monster’s sharp talons, then surely of fright. His heart beat so hard and fast, he was sure the monster would hear it and find him.

But the monster did not find him, for it altered its path then. He did not blink once as it slowly limped away with its uneven gait, afraid that if he did so, it would somehow draw the monster’s attention and bring it back. The quakes lessened the farther it got, until finally the ground was still. He remained still in his sanctuary. The rain continued to beat down on the log, but it was no longer the worst thing about this night.

Read Part 3
Read Conclusion