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WorkoutLogan lied down in a recliner, relaxing his aching leg and arm. Next to him was an elderly fox with a clipboard sitting in another recliner. "I'm glad to see you again, Logan," said the fox. The fox was Logan's psychologist whom Logan saw on a weekly basis. "How are you feeling?" the fox continued. Logan sighed. "Same as usual," he answered, "Leg still hurting and now my arm started to hurt." The fox nodded. "Yes, I heard about that, but I meant how you are feeling emotionally." Logan sat silently. He didn't like talking about his feelings. Wasn't very good at it.
"Tired?" asked the fox. "Anxious? Angry? Sad?"
"All the above," said Logan.
"What do you think? I deal with pain every day and I just found out that I have deal with even more pain!"
Logan's eyes watered. "I'm just so tired," he said. "Tired of pain, tired of limping, tired of everything!" "I can understand that," said the fox. "But the best thing for you to do is to keep moving forward. You cannot dwell in the past fo
MeltdownThe phone rang as Logan prepared for the agonizing walk to school. With his dad gone to work for the day, Logan answered the phone. "Hello?" he said. "Is this Logan?" said the fur on the other end.
"I'm from the doctor's office. Your tests on your right arm came in."
"What's going on?" Logan bit his lip.
"It appears the nerves and muscles in your arm were more damaged from the accident than we thought. The nerves and muscles deteriorated since they were not properly treated."
"So, it's basically my leg all over again?"
"Yes. I'm sorry."
Logan hung up instantly. "Another pain to worry about?" Logan asked himself. "How in the world can I manage this?" Water began to fill his impaired eyes, making him completely blind. He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. "Just move on." He thought to himself. "Forget about it, just move on." Logan then dragged himself out the door to school.
Logan sat in world history again until he was greeted by a familiar face, a giant gray wolfish face. I
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More