SOLC 10: In Which I Remember The Bay

The sand is starting to cool as night approaches. The golden sun is slowly sinking into the edge of the water, little specks of light twinkling across the bay. I step lightly, careful not to press my foot anywhere that might be hiding a sharp shell or rock. I scan the damp sand for any signs of crabs or fish, trying to spot them before they spot me. There is no shortage of snails, and the banks are littered with their tiny shells. People walk in small groups, quiet and slow. They are small figures painted carefully over the landscape. I wish that I could take a picture of this moment, but nothing I could do would ever be good enough. There is no way to really capture the way a place feels or sounds or looks all at once. So the only thing I really have to keep this with me is my memory.

SOLC 9: In Which I Share My Current Thoughts

Thinking about the future can be incredibly unpleasant. It isn't always nice to consider the fact that in a year from now everything in your life could be completely different than it is today. Maybe even in a month from now, or a week, or a day. Any choice that I make has the potential to turn my world upside down. Then there's the factor of things that we can't control. It's hard enough to have to try to figure out how to deal with the problems you made on your own. I hate that the world is so wildly unpredictable. There are so many things that you just don't see coming. So when I have to make an important decision, I always feel this unbearable stress. How will the choices that I make impact my future? Am I making the right decision?

It just bothers me that a choice that I'm making right now could change the course of my life entirely. So I can't help but always look for the perfect choice. But the truth is, rarely in life is there actually a "perfect choice." Things won't always work out as you planned. Not every shoe is a perfect fit, but that doesn't mean they don't fit at all. Sometimes I trap myself in this search for perfection and end up not even seeing that the not-so-perfect-choices aren't that bad. They might be great. They might be exactly what I need. After all, perfect isn't commonly found in the wild and is rarely found anywhere in the world. I don't need to find perfection right now. I just need good.

SOLC 8: In Which I Share My Love Of The Cold

A bright light hits my eyes as I open the door. It takes a minute for them to adjust and get a view of my surroundings. A thick layer of white snow covers everything in sight, from the rooftops down to the sidewalk. Tiny flurries float down onto the ground around me. They land lightly on the neat rows of my sweater, sticking there for a moment or two. They catch over the tips of my eyelashes and blur small spots of my vision. My nose and the tips of my ears sting with the cold. Maybe I should have brought a jacket. The sky is light grey, the sun peering through thin clouds. I yawn. The day is peaceful. Perfectly, beautifully cold.

SOLC 7: In Which We Enjoy The Sunrise

Some things are just perfect, like the way two words fit together, each syllable dropping off of the tongue and into the air. Sitting at the top of a giant boulder and looking out over the sunrise. That spells perfect to me. The air is cool and dry, not daring to let any sort of unpleasant humidity get in the way. The only noise is the quiet sound of birds in the morning and a gentle rustling from the underbrush. I can't help but wonder why some moments are so much better than the others. They stay in your mind, hiding in a back corner until they feel like its safe for them to resurface. I guess that if every day was a good one, it would be hard to tell which ones were actually any good at all. Sunrise is almost always perfect. The beginning of another day. The beginning of an unknown future, waiting to unfold.

SOLC 6: In Which I Play A Game

The air around me is completely still. The only thing that moves is the referee's arm as he signals to the girl behind the line. In one swift motion she propels the ball across the court and over the net. From this point forward, chaos ensues. Yelling and footsteps keep everything going, pushing the points of the game onward. As soon as the ball hits the ground, each tiny moment is ended. A simple and quick motion can cause a change in pace. The only thing that goes through my mind after every point is that I want it to keep going. I don't want to have to stop playing. I don't want to stop moving. Having to stop so suddenly feels like trying to keep my balance at the top of a mountain on a windy day. I don't want to stop doing any of it. I want to keep going.

Our hero must say: she had a surprisingly good day today.

SOLC 5: In Which We Have A Break

Everything is loud
The noise verging on unbearable
But not quite there
People in nearly every corner
Every spot inhabited
It feels like an ocean
Filled with movement
Instead of water

But when the game begins
It all feels still
The people who used to move and drift
Halt
Snapping the noise in half
At the sound of a whistle

And you can hear everything

Every whisper
Every breath
Every moment
Suddenly appears
Leaving all traces
Of overwhelming noise
Of unstoppable crowds
Of impossible energy
Hidden beneath the plastic tiles

SOLC 4: In Which We Find A Pencil

A pencil drifts carefully across the white eternity. Trailing behind it is a dull, slate line. With every tiny motion the tail grows longer and longer, curving and looping as needed. It is the pencil's sole purpose, threading gray lines forever. But there is joy in its line of work. For every minute spent on the paper the pencil grows closer to perfecting its scribbles. Looking forward it can see that someday the lines will be straight and neat. Someday it won't need to try so hard to perfect every movement. Someday soon it will be able to remember how every shape is supposed to feel under its tip. It will finally make it. It will finally be happy.