My Writing Process

     My writing processes for both the informational and narrative essays were almost identical. For each one, I spent a few minutes mentally brainstorming and then started plugging away on the page. If I don't get something on paper, I'm liable to stare at a blank screen for hours, so I find it's better to get something out there and refine it later than stress about perfection before the horses even leave the gate.

     If I am going to write effectively, I need two things: quiet and comfort. When there's too much going on around me, I get distracted. Distraction can be devastating when I'm trying to be creative because my thoughts move and change quickly. If I miss a link in the chain then I find myself completely lost and have to start over from scratch. My train of thought is also derailed if I am 'too' anything. If I'm too hot, too cold, too hungry, too full, too tired, too energetic, that's all I can think about. For these reasons, the best places for me to write are at the library and at home, in that order.

     When I'm in the library, I know I'll have a quiet, calm place to work free of interruption. Occasionally someone nearby will be rude and noisy, but then I can simply move. Unfortunately, I can't control the temperature in the library but that's usually not a problem anyway. My home is usually quiet, especially before my wife and sisters get back, but when they do distractions abound. They want to talk about their days which I typically enjoy, but when I need to get work done I may as well give up for that night. Another problem about being at home is that the privacy and comfort enable me to procrastinate more easily. When I'm at the library I don't want people to see what I watch on YouTube and don't have the temptations of video games and the rest of the internet nagging at me. At least at home, however, I can control the temperature, and easily get food if I start feeling hungry.

     Once I've finished writing something, I like to transcribe it into a text-to-speech app and let it read my paper back to me. This is handy for catching accidentally omitted words that won't always show up on Word's error catcher. After that, I'll wait a few days before I read it again so that I can read my sentences with fresh eyes and come up with better ways to phrase things and evaluate what needs more explanation and what can be more concise.
    

Ken Robinson Ted Talk - Is creativity as important as literacy?

     Growing up, I was always talented academically. I learned to read a little early and was placed into accelerated learning programs for both reading and math. While I was in school, I enjoyed creative writing, but my focus steadily shifted from creative subjects to concrete subjects like math and science. Aside from a handful of music classes in which I was successful mostly because they were notoriously easy, I didn't take many art classes. I stopped taking art class in middle school and started taking advanced math classes for my grade level, starting with Algebra 1 in seventh grade. Ultimately, I graduated 20th in my class, barely scraping into the top 20 thanks to some last-second AP classes I took senior year just to say I did.

     What did all of that academic success get me? So far, not a thing. After graduation, a veil was lifted from my eyes and I saw that I had no idea what I was doing or going to do. There wasn't and still isn't anything I'm particularly passionate about. I know a lot, sure, but I don't know what to do with any of my knowledge. I feel like I'm an incredibly smart person  held back by my own lack of passion and creativity. I'm all literate and no creative, stumbling through college hoping that eventually I'll find something to make me think, "This is what it's all been about."
 

      I used to be into creative writing and still dabble in poetry from time to time, but my artistic efforts all share a common theme. I'll start writing or playing or drawing, become frustrated that my technical skill isn't developed enough to produce what's in my mind, and give up. Like Ken Robinson said in his TED talk, I've developed a phobia of being wrong. My main source of self-esteem in school was my grades. I thought that even if I'm not the most popular or the most artistic, at least I have strong grades, which most of my peers didn't. Knowing as much as I could and proving it by never being wrong was the single most important thing to me.
 

      So now, as an adult, I am afraid to pursue anything new. I play the same old video games, watch the same shows, and exploit the familiar rather than explore the novel because I'm terrified of failing. I don't want to draw because I know it will look bad, and that is unacceptable. I'm afraid to write music because it won't sound exactly the way it does in my head, and even if it does, what if other people think it's awful? Unacceptable. I need to put in effort to start learning code, but I'm afraid of the difficulty and so I waste all of my time playing the same video games I've played a million times before, chasing that small but guaranteed dopamine release of success.
 

      This phobia of being wrong probably plays a role in my social phobias as well. I hesitate to strike up conversations with strangers because I'm afraid I'll put them off or otherwise embarrass myself, and that's a risk my ego can't take. I've been in college for a little over two months, but I haven't made any friends. Just like high school, I relate more to my teachers than to my peers. Perhaps this is because I'm in early classes and so most of my peers are significantly younger than me, so I feel like I'm on an entirely different level developmentally.
 

      Emphasizing literacy and not doing enough to foster creativity leads one to become like me, all intellectual bark and no bite. Literacy is certainly important, but without the creativity needed to apply it, literacy is borderline useless. Now that I've realized all of this, I can make an effort to change, but I've lost the seven years I spent wandering in limbo between high school graduation and now. Had I been more specifically encouraged as a child to engage in creative pursuits instead of just thinking of them as a diversion from the more important academic studies, then maybe I wouldn't have felt so lost for so long. 

     

creativewritingprompts.com 30 & 46

30.) Write an excuse for not working today

I was unable to come into work today for a few reasons. First, I've been coughing violently, sickened by my children and the disease factory we call pre-school. Second, the roads were packed to capacity, an endless stream of smog and steel clogged the highway, stopping and going, braking and slowing, people blaring their horns endlessly as though that would make things move faster. Third, I really, really hate my boss. His fat, stupid face fills me with rage in a primal sort of way. Whenever I see him I just want to run screaming out of an open window, bounce off the street below like a superhero, and deliver a striking uppercut hard enough to send him into space. If I had to go into work sick and fight through all that traffic, just to see his microwaved marshmallow body, I may literally explode.

46.) Describe a hot day

I awoke in an ocean of sweat, the radio weatherman talking over my alarm saying, "It's gonna be a scorcher today, folks!" After getting up and eating breakfast, I stepped outside my house and into my car. It had been baking in the sun; the heat trapped inside by the glass windows turned my tiny Chevy Sonic into a luxury sauna. As I drove, I could see typical hot-day staples. Children played with sprinklers in their front yard. Older people sat on rocking chairs on their porches, watching the kids. Cats and dogs stretched out in the sparse shade of buildings and trees, trying desperately to find some relief from the sun. Teenagers rode by on bikes on the sidewalk, sucking down iced soft drinks they bought at the gas station. The parking lots near the waterpark were packed. Around the block, patrons stood waiting in all manner of swimsuits, moms rubbing sunblock on their bratty children, dads carrying entirely too many pool accessories.

If I Won the Lottery

If I won the lottery, the first thing I would do is pay off my mortgage. Then I'd give my mom a fat check so she can get a sweet beach house in Florida. Half of my winnings would be put it in investments to make sure I keep making money. After that, I would go out and find a super sweet party mansion somewhere near Montgomery and buy it. Once I was all moved in, I'd go on Amazon and just buy stuff.

I'd have a room each dedicated to eras of retro gaming, and a little conveyor belt to take me between them. For my wife, I'd make sure to have a massive workshop with all sorts of tools and raw materials so she can make whatever she wants. I would build a couple art studios for my wife's sisters, one for each of them so they don't have to be finicky about privacy anymore. I would build a massive bar to store all of my fancy liquors and then pay a famous personal trainer to tell me not to drink any of it.

After establishing my home base, I would want to go traveling. I'd grab my mom and my wife and her sisters and we'd go all over Europe. In addition to visiting my brother in Germany, I'd want to check out all of the regional cultures in all of the countries. We'd go bar hopping and explore restaurants and all the castles and other landmarks. If we felt like it, we could stop by Japan too.

When I'm done having fun, I'd probably spend a lot of time going back to college just to see how many degrees I could get. I would want to have all of the bachelor's degrees in a college's catalog.

Another thing I'd like to do is fund a movie studio for the sole purpose of paying A-list celebrities to take tiny background roles in student art-house films. Imagine something like the Blair Witch Project but Dwayne Johnson is in the background of a single scene for no reason.

Sentence Exercises

Parallelism

When I found out the McRib had returned, I dived into my car and was off: horn blaring, gas pedal on the floor, several injured pedestrians in my wake.

Waves gently lapping at the shore, gulls crying overhead, boats listing lazily in the distance, the beach is such a tranquil place.

I thought the zoo would be fun, but when we arrived it was a nightmarish cacophony of elephants trumpeting, lions roaring, and apes shrieking among a million other ear-splitting noises.

The treasure hunter collected himself after falling down the trap door and looked upon a mountain of treasure like he had never seen: gold and jewels and paintings and sculptures from wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling, ripe for the taking!

The bicyclist was adamant; despite his sweat blinding his eyes, his spandex tights chafing his thighs, his helmet flopping loosely on his head, he pushed on.

My sisters found him repulsive, bought I felt he had a goofy sort of charm: the way he spat a little when he talked, the way his eyes twitched, his myriad speech impediments, oh, what is a man anyway?

Congeries

When leaving the theater, please ensure you have all your belongings: your phone, wallet and all its cards, car keys, and the self-respect your spouses stole from you all those years ago.

Far beneath the ocean waves lies an alien world: creatures unlike anything you've ever seen, some familiar but with too many appendages, others completely see-through, and yet more capable of bioluminescence.

I was lost in a blizzard of schoolwork: essays left unwritten, math exercises waiting impatiently for my input, classmates eagerly awaiting responses to their discussion posts, their hearts beating out of their chests in anticipation of my opinion, a pot of ramen boiling over: forgotten on the stove, and me: passed out on the couch, remote in one hand, chips in the other, once again.

A fast-food drive-thru is a sacred sort of social gathering: starving drivers honk their horns, employees mutter indecipherably through the speakers, the smells of salt and heart disease waft through the air, impossible numbers of children pour out of mini-vans, their parents swallow their disgust and follow behind, dead-eyed and soul-broken.

I tossed and turned all night, sleep an impossible dream: the indecisive heater kicking off and on as it willed, trains in the distance blaring horns all through the night, my wife's icy feet kicking my legs in their covetous slumber, their nails sharp and digging into my flesh, and just as my eyes finally fell heavy, my own alarm betrayed me.

Present Participles

Wandering lost through the dark, a maddening scratching sound stalked my mind as a droning hum grew in volume until I could no longer think.

Its innumerable eyes gazing, the creature in my dreams pierced my soul, accusing me--knowingly--of my many sins.

Stirring beneath the ocean waves, ancient creatures beyond mortal comprehension prepare to rain doom upon the nations of men.

Chattering endlessly, the rats in the walls chewed through the foundation of my sanity.

Buzzing happily, a million bees swarmed the garden, but they were probably eldritch abominations too. So was the garden.

Bleeding uncontrollably, the magician grabbed his stump with his prosthetic hand and cried out, "Not again!" as the children screamed and ran inside.

The body count rising, Roger realized that perhaps his pet bear wasn't quite ready to drive.

Raising his hand eagerly, Jimmy couldn't wait to rat my friends and me out. Nerd.

Crying inconsolably, the child refused to acknowledge that his precious lost toy was in his other hand.

Past Participles

The marathon runner collapsed after crossing the finish line, exhausted from his ordeal.

The smoker's lungs were colored a muddy black, polluted by years of abuse.

Two frogs in the pond dance strangely, engaged in a mating ritual.

The buried treasure lay buried somewhere on the island, hidden ages ago by infamous pirates who, for understandable reasons, couldn't use a bank to store their wealth.

Little Scotty ran screaming from my driveway, frightened by the fantastic Halloween decorations painstakingly designed to terrify him, specifically.

A Tour of Stormwind City - Observational Essay

                After the fall of the northern human kingdoms of Lordaeron, Gilneas and Stromgarde, the southern kingdom of Stormwind is the last bastion of human power on the planet Azeroth.  Its capital, Stormwind City, is nestled against a mountain range just north of the temperate, verdant Elwynn Forest. As one leaves the nearby village of Goldshire heading northwest, they find that the loose cobblestone road ends at the mighty outer gate, which is made of several layers of light-colored wood and reinforced with steel.  The protective gate serves as a symbol of safety to its wards, and a stern warning of strength to its enemies.

                Travelling through the gate, one finds the Valley of Heroes.  A grand bridge made of the same shining white stone found throughout Stormwind extends over a lake leading to the inner gate.  Many oil-burning street-lamps illuminate the bridge and highlight the four awe-inspiring, colossal white and gold statues commemorating The Alliance’s greatest champions.  General Hammond Clay stands sentinel at the inner end of the bridge beneath a fifth colossal statue commemorating General Turalyon, who is presumed deceased after leading the invasion of the orcish home-world of Draenor. The tranquil valley serves as a reminder of the peace these heroes fought and died for, and as a perfect memorial to their many sacrifices.

                The path splits at the end of the bridge into two identical paths, both leading to the inner gate: a massive, T-shaped stone tunnel lit by torches and bearing the blue and gold banners of The Alliance.  Four steel portcullises provide a final layer of protection for the citizens.

                As one emerges from the inner gate, they find themselves in the trade district, one of five conveniently color-coded districts of the city.  The cobblestone streets wind around the numerous shops selling all manners of goods and services. The buildings are a mish-mash of wood and stone, and they are capped by royal-blue shingled roofs. Auctioneers can be heard barking as citizens hawk their wares. Children chase one another along the brick sidewalks, weaving through older citizens who mutter curses about kids these days as they bump past. The hustle and bustle of the heart of Alliance commerce can be energizing, but it can also become exhausting.

                Separating the districts of Stormwind are the canals, featuring miscellaneous stores selling odd goods from wines to wands. The roads border each district and arched bridges connect one district to another. Small rowboats ferry passengers around the city, and fishermen take up posts on the many docks. The sound of quietly running water would be calming, if not for the fishermen’s angry outbursts over their escaped quarry. This area also houses two massive prison towers, which host both domestic criminals and prisoners of war.

                To the west of the trade district lies the peaceful mage quarter.  The buildings of this hilly area have violet shingled roofs, and the streets are more grass than cobblestone. The many trees and multi-colored wildflowers make it feel more like a park than a campus for students of magic and provide a relaxing atmosphere to contrast with that of the busy trade district. At the heart of the mage quarter lies the Wizard’s Sanctum, the center for magical study of The Alliance.

                 Traveling north from the mage quarter would place one on a terrace overlooking Stormwind harbor. From atop this perch the might of the Alliance navy can be seen in the form of its many battleships. The salty smell of the ocean breeze is rivaled only by the salty smell of the many sailors hauling cargo onto their ships for delivery to locations all over the world. Their incredibly diverse and foreign cultures provide a glimpse into the world beyond and inspire a yearn for adventure. Farther out into the sea, the Stormwind lighthouse sits atop an outcropping where it serves to protect incoming vessels from the rocky shore.

                Circling back to the east, one comes across Cathedral Square. This yellow-roofed district is dominated by the wondrous Cathedral of the Light, home to practitioners of the philosophy of the Holy Light. It is rectangular, has one pointed spire on each corner, one in the center of both long sides, and one massive spire in the center. The bell atop the center spire rings out each hour for the convenience of the citizens. Within its hallowed halls, one can hear the prayers of priests and the meditations of paladins. Children abound in this district as well, as this is the location of the city’s orphanage.

                Yet farther to the east lies the dwarven district. It is unclear whether the roofs of this district were always a muddy brown, or if they were made that way by an ever-present layer of smog resulting from the heavy local industry. Rather than oil-burning street lamps like the rest of the city, this district is illuminated by charcoal braziers which contribute to the dense, burning carbon smell emanating from the many metal-smelting furnaces. The noise of hammers hitting anvils is rivaled only by the noise of blacksmithing masters berating their lazy apprentices.

                South of the dwarven district lies the seedy, scarlet-roofed old town. Passing citizens eye one another warily, thinking either of stealing or being stolen from. Rats scurry freely through the streets, darting between crates and barrels left on the sidewalk. The streets feature many stores selling weapons and armor, but if one manages to find a way into the back alleys, they can find stores selling poisons and fences trying to offload their stolen goods. At the extreme south end of old town are the headquarters of SI:7, the Stormwind military intelligence agency.

                Finally, between old town and the dwarven district and across a drawbridge one can find Stormwind Keep, home to King Anduin Wrynn. The outer courtyard in front of the keep entrance proper features a hundred-foot-tall, round fountain adorned with a statue commemorating King Anduin’s father, King Varian Wrynn.  Further within the keep itself is the throne room. This domed room is supported by beautiful cerulean columns placed regularly around the circumference. The throne sits atop four lions made of solid gold, stands fifty feet tall and bears the insignia of The Alliance in a stained-glass motif at the top. The impregnable Stormwind Keep serves as a powerful symbol of strength for its people.

creativewritingprompts.com #335: Beauty crowds me till I die

Beauty crowds me till I die.
The suffocating lovers lie.
Their flattery deceptive dance.
The fault their own or circumstance?

creativewritingprompts.com #55: Margarot Mallory

            My name is Margaret Mallory, and I’m a stone cold vixen with all the fixins. I’m seventy-six years young, and in all my years I haven’t met a man who’s man enough to tame me. My hobbies include patchwork quilts, collecting cat memorabilia (I’m ALLERGIC), and kickboxing. I hold the record in my sewing circle for most boxes of cat quilts kicked.

            If you want to make a pass at this lass you need to be three things: tall, rich, and incredibly mean to children. I’ve never been able to have children and boy do I want them to know I’m bitter about it! My dream is to go to an orphanage with my rich husband, act like we’re going to adopt a child and then never pick them up! Oh, the tears in my eyes! What fun. Imagine the look on their stupid little face when they realize they aren’t actually wanted!

            You should message me if you think you can handle an old, mean fighting machine with more sass than sassafrass!

Satisfaction

What narrow halls I've wandered, I have wandered all I can
What mirrored walls stand tall, I've seen myself as all I am
What shadows cast and shine on me and show me what I want to see
But oh, they've never helped me understand

If only I could ever find an exit from these halls
Will I stumble lost forever in these endless winding walls
They obscure me and assure me, they are stable and serene
But oh, they just don't speak to me at all

What foggy dreams I've had, they've never offered me a clue
Only catching glimpses, where to go and what to do
The hope for satisfaction is what pushes me to action
But oh, it's never shown itself to me
No it's never shown itself to me

Boring Day

After completing basic military training (BMT) and arriving at technical school for vocational training, you may think that the long, dense briefings about dry material are over. Let me assuage your fears my friends: your career of incredibly informative, helpful and not-at-all-redundant briefings has only just begun. Within their first few days, all of the new arrivals are corralled into one giant room and forced to enjoy watching presentation after presentation on all of the things they just learned about at BMT.

Was the thought of personal freedom and practical education too exciting for you? Well how about not one, not two, but three days of briefings on such interesting and relaxed subjects as the Uniform Code of Military Justice, sexual assault prevention, drug use and base safety? Each one is delivered via power point presentation with a speaker who clearly does this every single time and loves it.

The sarcastically enjoyable presentations are sprinkled with legitimately enjoyable videos that compliment the material. One example that I will remember long after I've forgotten the names of my children is the one about drug use. In the video, four airmen wearing the previous generation of uniform, a testament to the video's age, are passing a joint back and forth. The memorable part is that they do this outdoors, in uniform, and don't try to hide it at all.

First Toy

One of my earliest memories is playing on the swing set in my backyard in Michigan. The metal bars were a deep blue and the plastic and rubber parts were yellow. There were two traditional swings, one swing that two people would sit on like a horse back-to-back, and a slide. The chains that connected the swings to the mounting bar were silver, but covered in a smooth, blue plastic material that prevented the chains from rusting and felt better to the touch. The fondness I have for blue and yellow to this day probably stems from that swing set.

I remember the way the swings would creak when they were pushed to their limit, or at least to the extent that my tiny child body could push. On summer days I would suddenly get attacked by wasps that likely took up residence in the metal bars, which inspired my lifelong hatred and phobia of the winged demons. In winter, the snow would accumulate high enough to bury the swings, leaving only the blue bars exposed. While my child self was sad that I couldn’t play on them, my adult self finds joy in the thought of frozen, dead wasps.  

Object Description

The sofa in my living room is sandy-brown, about eight feed wide and three feet tall. It is made of fabric rather than leather, and came with three throw pillows. Two of them are square, with one side the same texture as the couch and the other a muddy-green with an ornate design. The back of the couch is made up of three large pillows that are aesthetically the same as the throws. The two large pillows on the left and right have arms that extend over the couch arms.

My wife is not a fan of the color and style of the couch, so she got a soft, light-grey cover. At first it didn't like to stay in place, and would peel back and bunch up when people sat on it. We screwed fifty upholstery pins around the base of the couch to try and hold the cover in place. All along the bottom perimeter of the couch are subtle, clear headed pins. We had put them around the backs of the cushions as well, but there weren't enough, so people would stretch the fabric and pull them out by mistake just by sitting.

Observation Paper topics

Dungeon review

Describe in detail the narrative experience of running through a dungeon. For example, Waycrest Manor could be in exercise in describing a haunted house setting. I could describe the unnatural darkness, the ghosts, ghouls and goblins running around, the smell or rotten meat coming from the kitchen, etc. I could also describe the narrative, specifically the relationship between my ally Lady Waycrest and her now-undead parents.


Arena tournament

There are many archived arena tournaments online. I've never been into them, but that means I can observe with fresh, impartial eyes. I could describe the room, the players, the commentators and the crowd. I can illustrate the passion and excitement as tension builds until it climaxes as one team comes out on top. I could describe team composition by talking about class structure. Each class presents itself uniquely by the kind of armor it wears and the weapons it uses. I could describe the aesthetics of the in-game arenas.


Moving on to a new questing zone

Contrast the tranquil, verdant Elwynn Forest to the dying farmland of Westfall. Take the time to describe the settings of both areas to drive home how depressing Westfall is. Run through the plot of the zone, starting with the murder investigations and culminating in the reveal of the party responsible: notorious slain bandit Edwin VanCleef's daughter, Vanessa VanCleef. In addition to the yellow farmland and dilapidated villages, I can describe the bandits of the Defias Syndicate and their allies.


Zone description

Rather than focus on a zone with a questing narrative, examine one with only backstory. Establish the history of the Mage's class hall: The Hall of the Guardian. Compare it to a library if it were owned by Mickey Mouse's master from Fantasia. Discuss the sights, sounds and sensations associated with mages practicing magic: the blue, icy shattering of frost, crackling and explosive fire, and the powerful, ethereal blasts of arcane magic. Describe the clothes worn by mages and the weapons they wield. Paint the scene by describing things like enchanted books flying overhead as magical scholars share their research with one another.

Another zone worth discussing is the human capital of Stormwind. It draws inspiration from medieval European cities so there is ample material for comparison. Talk about the conveniently color-coded districts and the sorts of things you can expect to sense in each one. Talk about the massive gate and the bridge of heroes with its massive statues commemorating champions of the past. Talk about the massive castle and cathedral and their associated wings. Describe the throne room of King Anduin Wrynn, and the king himself.


Blizzcon Announcement

Find footage of a Blizzcon announcement where they first reveal the premise of a new expansion or something to that effect. Describe the video they show and what the presenter talks about. Describe the presenter and the crowd. Observe how the crowd reacts: positive, negative, uninterested?

Monster's Inc

Monster's Inc was another Pixar movie that followed the same rules that Andrew Stanton outlined for Toy Story. Although you could think of Mr. Waternoose as a villain in that he was definitely "the bad guy," his motivations weren't as simple as "I am selfish and evil!" At the beginning, the film drops subtle hints that there are rolling blackouts, and he feels it is his duty to solve that problem as head of the power company. Ultimately, his willingness to kidnap a thousand children is made unnecessary by Sullivan's discovery that children's laughter is ten times more powerful than their screams.

Sullivan, the furry, blue main character has changes in motivation throughout the film. At the beginning, he cares most about being the top-dog scarer. Once Boo shows up, he wants to get her back to her home more out of self-preservation for himself and Mike than compassion, but eventually she grows on him and he genuinely wants to get her home home safely. His core motivation would probably be to take care of his friends.

Monsters Inc. does a great job cultivating wonder by portraying its world as markedly different but also similar to our own. The diversity of different monsters of all sizes with different abilities is fascinating. Despite their unique ecosystem, the monsters still have the same sorts of routines we have in the real world. They drive cars, go to work, make reservations at restaurants, have romances, and even fall asleep watching TV. The best parallel and a central theme of the movie is that the monsters are just as terrified of human children as children are of monsters. It tells small children they don't need to be afraid of monsters while giving older viewers a chance to reflect on ideas like prejudice and fearing things we don't understand.

The characters being likable and relatable are what make me care during the movie. Like many of us, the monsters just want to go to work, get paid, have a nice dinner with the missus and otherwise maintain the status quo. Mike and Sullivan are snarky with each other but one can tell they care about each other too. I also think we can all relate to suddenly feeling overwhelmed and just wanting things to go back to normal, but also putting that desire aside to fight for the ones we care about.

Picture Description

For this blog post I chose a picture taken the day I got married. It was a cool, cloudy November day and my then fiancé and I had driven to the Montgomery courthouse with her family and my mom. We took the picture after the ceremony while walking down the sidewalk back to our cars. The sidewalk we're standing on is slightly dirty with a few leaves strewn about, and there are trees and hedges sitting on beds of pine straw along the brick buildings behind us.

 

I'm wearing my dark blue Air Force dress uniform, facing the camera with my left arm around her waist. She's wearing her white wedding dress with matching sandals and a gold hair clip, has her hands on my chest and is looking to her left side. The hand I've got on her waist is still awkwardly holding the envelope containing our marriage certificate and other documents because the picture was taken impromptu. Her right foot is perpendicular to the sidewalk with her knee bent at a slight angle. My right leg is doing the same sort of thing but to a smaller extent.

 

Of course the wedding was significant, but it didn't feel like anything really changed. Although we had only been together for six months, we had known almost from the start that this was what we wanted. The question actually came up while we were talking about our plans to save up and buy a house together, which would be much easier if we got married since the military would pay me more. One month after the picture, she got herself a job as a web developer at the Beasley-Allen law firm in Montgomery, and together we managed to save up a little over $30,000 before I separated from the military in January 2018. 

 

This picture was taken close to two years ago on the 23rd of November, 2016. In December 2017, we finally bought a house and had her two sisters move in with us. Things are going great and we're still disgustingly in love.

Free Money Please

Dad

Hey Dad, wouldn't you know it? All those stocks I bought aren't working out and I'm in a tough spot for the rest of the semester. Maybe cybernetically enhanced hot-dog buns weren't the best investment, but I started investing like you said I should, right? I know they'll turn around eventually; the market just isn't ready for them right now. Do you think I could borrow a few thousand dollars, just until they come around? I'll pay you back with interest!

Think about it Papá: your boy, your son, alone, hungry, shivering on the city streets. A sad violin melody can be heard faintly under the blizzard winds as they howl between the skyscrapers. In his sorrow, he sheds a single tear that freezes his eye shut so now he's dumb, poor AND blind! Oh the tragedy! He asks strangers walking by if they could spare a single hot dog, for he has many technologically advanced buns, but nothing to put in them. They respond, "What, do you not have a father who loves you? Does your father not care?" And then they spit on him a little bit.

The violin melody crescendos and he falls into the snow. As hypothermia begins to claim him he turns toward the camera and whispers weakly, "Why father... Why have you forsaken me..." and what little remains of the life in his eyes fades away. He does that subtle sort of movie death where the eyes and head just kind of roll over to the side a bit, and even though you can see the actor's chest rising slightly you give him the benefit of the doubt because it's not like you could do any better.

Is this what you want Pater? IS IT!? DON'T YOU LOVE ME?!? WHY DON'T YOU  LOVE ME!?!?

Thank you in advance!
Love,
Your Dead Son.


Friend

Look man, that investment isn't panning out.  There's still half a semester left and I'm broke thanks to your sage advice. Yeah, yeah, I  know it'll come around eventually, but I can't buy food with a brokerage account in the red. If you ever want me to listen to your suggestions again, you need to help me out.  Just give me a few hundred bucks to hold me over until my Dad helps me out. No, I know he will. He's a wealthy theater-loving business tycoon for the purposes of this assignment and I wrote him a Dickens-poem level sob story. What do you mean Dickens wrote prose? I think I know my nineteenth-century English literature dude. Look, just help me out and I won't tell your girlfriend about that time we got too drunk playing Mario Kart and then couldn't look each other in the eye for a few days.


Bank

I'd like to apply for a loan. I've discovered the investment opportunity of a lifetime! Think about it, we all love hot dogs, but what don't we love about hot dogs? The boring, dry, lifeless buns! What if our hot dogs were delivered plate-to-mouth not by a lump of dumb old wheat, but by LASER WHEAT.

Cybernetically enhanced hot dog buns offer a luxurious garbage-eating experience to the wealthy customer with a shameless pallet. These buns will dodge pay your taxes, write thank-you notes to friends, blare Baroque music all the way down and even glow a little bit because of the radiation X-factor! A titanium exterior ensures the safety of your questionably sourced meat-tube, and guarantees a mouthful of shattered teeth, or your money back!

So anyway, I need a small loan of $30,000 to invest in my friend's startup. Given the brilliance of this idea, I will undoubtedly be able to pay you back in five years, that is if I don't own this bank by then!