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Soul Searching in the Abyss Part 1
Where Did I Leave It?
I know I’ll find it. It’s around here somewhere. Why are these things always in the last place you look? Nope, it’s not under the couch. Oh look, dust bunnies. I really need to clean more often but I don’t have the heart to disturb them. They have the whole space feng shui’ed so nicely. I love the color palette they’ve chosen and excellent use of random dog and cat hair.
Back to the search. Oh wait, Family Guy on. Must watch family Guy. (Drools while hypnotically staring at the television.) I’ve turned into another vacuous couch potato without the couch. I love my recliner. Spouse like his recliner. He sleeps while I crochet and the television murmurs in the background.
What was I doing again? Oh yeah, searching for my soul.
Looking through the DVD collection which reminds me I need to do another review for HubPages. What should it be? Dune the Director’s cut? The Abyss the Director’s Cut? Dances with Wolves the Director’s cut? Hot Shots: Part Deux? What a thought. Dare I step away from my great start in reviewing Science Fiction and branch out into other genres? I don’t know. I begin to tremble in fear.
I CAN’T HANDLE CHANGE!
A friend IMs me about needing a boot CD. What’s a boot CD? Is it like a boot on a CD? I really hope its Prada. Of course it must be this season. I heard Bill Gates owns stock in Prada. Makes sense, doesn’t it? Oh gods. I just absolutely have to have a Prada Boot CD. I Googled Prada Boot CD and got 35,000 results. I told you it was in.
Where was I?
The depths of darkness, deep and unrelenting. The walls of the pit are sheer and ragged with the furrows of broken bloody nails that scrabble ineffectively to escape. The wind howls, acrid like the bile of the incurably insane. The wind holds in a caress of a lover who knows not the meaning of gentleness. You hold on only because you know at the base of the bit is a future even worse than the scrape of the wind that rips away your flesh.
Dang, can’t find my soul either. Where did I put the damned thing? Why is it that the minute I put something down I lose it.
Butterflies flutter through air as thick as honey and scented with lavender. Verdant green grass cushions your feet like a favorite pillow caressing your legs like the softest toilet tissue on a bad day. Thoughts moves like silk in a gentle massage over your cheeks warming your heart from the inside out. The sun is warm and treasures your mind like a proud parent.
Not here either. I really need to find my soul.
Temperatures are in the fifties and I find that so wrong for this time of year. It’s too early in the season. The spouse walks by with a protein shake as he gets ready for another day of work in an industry that still hasn’t recovered. He puts together his gear for his gym bag as he goes to the gym every night after work. My old cat curls close to the side of my laptop for the heat.
My husband hands me a video tape. “Do a review on this one,” he says. He supports my writing. He gives me a kiss and heads off to work.
Ah. There’s my soul. Loved and cherished.