conflagration
It takes me a few seconds to register that the sky is full of smoke, a great expanding cloud that thins out with distance, mixing into the mild peach sunset. As I get closer, I see large flames several blocks away, trembling insanely, tall as a house. Later on the news gets out - an apartment building destroyed in a five-alarm fire, thankfully no one killed or hurt. There are however over a hundred people who lost their homes.
imparted
The first time I arrive at the building complex, someone walks me through the corridors, shows me how they're interconnected and which staircases I should use to get to the third floor. The next day as I arrive, someone asks me for directions, and it's my turn to be the helpful guide.
reticent
She wishes I would confide in her more, but there are reasons I don't. I tell her little things, here and there, some offerings of opinion and thought, occasionally a deep feeling, but nothing that would make me too vulnerable.
roughhew
He doesn't seem comfortable with public speaking. This is hardly his first time in front of a crowd, and he does just fine, but there's only so much of himself that he can master - he can't help the flushed cheeks, the hands that tremble slightly, the voice that stops and starts.
slurry
Gray brown slush, messing over everything, as if the sidewalk has spit up and forgotten to pat its mouth clean.
tenacity
I don't want to be resigned, to walk a rut because that's the most comfortable way. I say this not because I'm one hundred percent certain I won't betray myself, only because I hope I won't, and I'll work hard not to. There are things I can't compromise on and give up on, not without a sense of crushing sadness.
tracery
I love how the trees are outlined by snow, a crisp network of branches. Each bare limb is traced in white, sharp and elegant.
Showing posts with label direction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label direction. Show all posts
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Week in Seven Words #15
agitation
The sky is orange and gray, with a gleam of lightning now and then from behind the cloud cover. The wind is panting, and the trees tremble. The storm won't contain itself much longer.
capitalize
The difference between a lowercase and uppercase B stalls the programming code, though I hardly know this as I comb through the lines attempting to make sense of an ambiguous error message. It takes a friendly human, with friendly human eyes, to look through it twice and spot the difference.
disorientation
I've grown used to a certain way of walking to this place; I don't think much about the turns I need to make, the landmarks and houses I walk past. That changes twice. Once at night, when a friend suggests making a shortcut through an alley and a side street, and I find my steps faltering a little, as if I'm in a foreign neighborhood. And the second time is during the day, so even the accustomed route looks a little strange - in the sunshine details leap out that have lain hidden in the dark, and I need to stop and stare and remind myself that yes, this is the street.
escapades
I make recurring efforts to neaten the room. But as my attention turns elsewhere the tidiness dissolves, and the next time I stop at the doorway and take a hard assessing look I find that the books have leapfrogged over one another, the papers have waltzed around the floor, and the shirts have turned somersaults off their shelves and onto the chairs.
incongruent
The man has stretched his arms along the back of the bench; his legs are eased out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, and his spine is curved in a lazy C. His head is tipped back, his eyes probably full of sun and clouds, and I figure he's singing or maybe even talking softly to himself. I'm not prepared, when drawing within earshot, to hear the growls and foul words grinding out of his mouth.
magnify
The nightmare is both ridiculous and revealing; as I think about it afterwards, I realize how much weight I've placed on what seems to be a trivial detail, but is actually only one small part of a larger problem.
windup
At least the day is long, and the hours don't seem to hurry. We have lunch in a breezy room and talk there for a good while after. I savor the time without consciously forcing myself to do so. There's a lot I've learned from this small group of people, and many days I've had great fun being with them. I don't think it's sunk in yet, how I'll miss the frequency of our meetings.
The sky is orange and gray, with a gleam of lightning now and then from behind the cloud cover. The wind is panting, and the trees tremble. The storm won't contain itself much longer.
capitalize
The difference between a lowercase and uppercase B stalls the programming code, though I hardly know this as I comb through the lines attempting to make sense of an ambiguous error message. It takes a friendly human, with friendly human eyes, to look through it twice and spot the difference.
disorientation
I've grown used to a certain way of walking to this place; I don't think much about the turns I need to make, the landmarks and houses I walk past. That changes twice. Once at night, when a friend suggests making a shortcut through an alley and a side street, and I find my steps faltering a little, as if I'm in a foreign neighborhood. And the second time is during the day, so even the accustomed route looks a little strange - in the sunshine details leap out that have lain hidden in the dark, and I need to stop and stare and remind myself that yes, this is the street.
escapades
I make recurring efforts to neaten the room. But as my attention turns elsewhere the tidiness dissolves, and the next time I stop at the doorway and take a hard assessing look I find that the books have leapfrogged over one another, the papers have waltzed around the floor, and the shirts have turned somersaults off their shelves and onto the chairs.
incongruent
The man has stretched his arms along the back of the bench; his legs are eased out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, and his spine is curved in a lazy C. His head is tipped back, his eyes probably full of sun and clouds, and I figure he's singing or maybe even talking softly to himself. I'm not prepared, when drawing within earshot, to hear the growls and foul words grinding out of his mouth.
magnify
The nightmare is both ridiculous and revealing; as I think about it afterwards, I realize how much weight I've placed on what seems to be a trivial detail, but is actually only one small part of a larger problem.
windup
At least the day is long, and the hours don't seem to hurry. We have lunch in a breezy room and talk there for a good while after. I savor the time without consciously forcing myself to do so. There's a lot I've learned from this small group of people, and many days I've had great fun being with them. I don't think it's sunk in yet, how I'll miss the frequency of our meetings.
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