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Outside, snow blanketed the yard before sleet began falling like confetti.

Inside, cocoa and coffee were warm.

Lights were dim.

Air was calm.

Sounds of home softly found their way through the early morning:

kettle boiling, a familiar sitcom, the woodstove crackling.

Winter didn’t feel cold at all. It was soft, sweet, and perfectly unproductive.

Safe.

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Snow erased the road overnight.

I walked around, seeing breaths, my pockets empty except for a gray stone.

At the river, ice cracked softly.

I threw the stone, listened, then turned back lighter, bringing only footprints fading behind me into the snow, the sky clouded as can be.

It lingered with me long afterward quietly.

Peaceful.

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Alarm rings to head to school.

Spilled coffee on my jacket in traffic.

Students fighting in hallway.

Insubordination from those who are present.

Their learned helplessness results in low grades.

Due to the low grades, my evaluation is bad.

Getting targeted by admin.

Admin’s politics prevent me from advancing my career.

Now going to therapy.

Burnout.

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Bang!

It has started.

Up and up I run.

Jelly beans boost me, sugar rush.

I make it 11 kilometres to the top.

Wow, what a view!!

Wait, now I have to go all the way back down?

Knees aching, thunder in my ears.

Cheering as I approach the line.

Am I under 2 hours?

Exhilarated

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The girl and her horse are one.

They face life as a team.

Blood, tears, and sweat forge their story.

“You two are soulmates”

The years marched on.

Many seasons came and went,

The two maintained their soul-bond, no matter the time and distance.

Until- the horse had to leave the girl. The soul-tie broken.

Shattered.

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Friday

Half day

Buzzed.

Fourth graders squeak like sneakers on tile.

I promised independent work,

then tried grading, typing, thinking.

Pencils tapped.

A hand rose.

Another. I smiled, paused, helped, returned.

They worked, mostly.

I worked, sort of.

My laptop sighed pretending productivity while eyes watched wiggly desks everywhere.

The clock giggled, rushing us home.

Pressure.

# data[].attributes.headline
Marcus Napthen: The Origin Story of the Belleville Lady Tigers Flag Football Team

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Marcus Napthen: The Origin Story of the Belleville Lady Tigers Flag Football Team

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Lady Tigers First Flag-Football Game

Torrential Rain and Frozen Fingers

Players Huddled Under the Tent

Down by 6 with 23 Seconds Left

Mama Mia’s Bullet Pass to Grace

Touchdown

Extra Point Conversion Good

14 Seconds Left

Kierra's Interception

Coast to Coast Gliding Like a Gazelle

Scoreboard Bright

Rain Stops

1-0

Let’s Go BHS Lady Tigers!

Unfinished...

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There was a giraffe named Mickey. His height made him curious about the ground beneath him. He could see small animals run around, and tiny little things moving - which he learned were called bugs. He was very curious about this world that lived beneath him. He would befriend a squirrel to teach him these things.

Wonder

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Each morning,

the dashboard opened first.

Green metrics glowed:

sessions completed,

goals checked,

engagement stable.

Members learned what earned progress.

They clicked, advanced, repeated.

Change looked successful.

Costs were assumed reduced.

No measure proved it.

Confidence persisted due to polished reports.

Coaching followed what systems saw.

Impact, outcomes, and savings

remained unverified

by design alone.

Uneasy.

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I am a dog.

My owner leaves for work, and I worry all morning and most of the afternoon.

I don’t worry about them.

I worry about the moment the peanut butter is gone.

What will I do now?

How will I go on?

I can hear the clock ticking.

Tick... Tock… Tick... Tock… Nap.

Amused.

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She turns the dagger upon herself.

Wrapped in the predetermined words set by the prophecy, the bond etched in stone before we even said our vows. Her blood runs red with centuries of longing, spilling down and staining the white silk.

Her dream wedding was red and white, after all.

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One extra hot afternoon in the summer of ‘85, a woman wanted a cheap getaway. What’s cheaper than a $25 motel in the middle of nowhere?

Signs were posted everywhere…

“Haunted pool-float. Beware!”

Weird.

She took a late-night swim, come to think of it, the quiet motel looked borderline abandoned.

Sploosh-Sploosh

“What was that? – Ahh!”

Extra word: bEWARE