Author Archives: caverns of my mind

Morbid Whimsy

Posted on September 15, 2012 by caverns of my mind

I can’t keep avoiding the need to write new material much longer… I just hate to begin something and not have time to really dig in.  To begin creating a world and the lives to fill it up, only to have to abandon it and the characters for indefinite periods of time is difficult for me- separation anxiety or something.  It’s like I’m afraid of what they might do without my supervision, and I’ll miss them.  Yeah, I’m well aware of how crazy that sounds, and I’m ok with it.  If I could, I’d lock myself away for days to write out a good story.  Instead, I spend days writing out lesson plans and essential questions (if you’re not a Learning Focused teacher, don’t ask)…

So, just for the sake of posting something different from the string of recent serious posts, I’m sharing another old poem of mine.  My mom and sister (mostly my sister) used to tease me because of all the depressing poetry I would write.  But hey, I was in high school.  Anyway, this poem comes off as a bit morbid, but I had fun writing it, because it wasn’t really serious at all.  Well, you’ll have to read what I mean…

My Death by Terree L. Klaes

I died while walking

on the beach one night,

In the chilling cool water,

and the shimmering moonlight.

My body sank deeply

into the sand,

With nothing exposed,

not even a hand.

My corpse quickly

was engulfed by waves.

And I was sure my body

would not be found for days.

But then slowly I opened

my eyes to see…

I had simply fallen asleep

next to the sea.

1997

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Remembering 9/11

Posted on September 11, 2012 by caverns of my mind

After September 11, 2001, many of us were feeling confused about what we felt after such an atrocity.  I did what I usually do in that case, and I wrote about it (of course then I had no outlet to share it with anyone, so I never really did).  I felt after all these years had passed it might be interesting to see what was going on in our minds at that time and see if we really are remembering.

From 9-22-01:

There are so many people affected by the tragedies that occurred on September 11.  In one way or another, we are all affected by them, as we should be as decent human beings, and as Americans.  Our country will never be the same again.  These horrific acts of terrorism rocked our sense of security in this country, and put us in fear, just as the terrorists had hoped.  Don’t be afraid.  Don’t give in to their desires.  We are a strong country, with a strong history, and American pride.

I consider myself fortunate in that when I was growing up, my parents felt it was important to instill in me a love for this country.  I can remember asking my mom what made the United States such a wonderful place.  She replied, “Because we have freedom in this country.”  Freedom.  This word did not take shape in my mind until I was older, but I always knew it was important and that it made this country special.  Then when I went to school, I learned about all the people all over the world who had risked everything they had in order to come to the United States of America, in order to live in a country that offered them freedom… And I learned of the men and women who have fought for over 200 years now to gain and to preserve this freedom.

It is the hatred of this freedom that brought this dreadful assault on our country, and cost the lives of possibly thousands of innocent citizens.  It is no accident that the worst of the attacks took place in the city that has long been the symbol of our freedom, and of hope.

I can remember when I was in elementary school, putting my hand over my heart, looking up towards our classroom’s flag, and saying “The Pledge of Allegiance” before sitting down for our daily lessons.  I also remember learning and singing “America the Beautiful.”  It was a privilege to be one of the students chosen to put up the flag in the morning.  We were proud.  The last time I saw American pride like that was during Desert Storm…until now.  We are proud again.  We sing “America the Beautiful” again… and we look towards our flag again with a proud intensity this country has probably not seen since the strikes on Pearl Harbor.

It is a shame that it took such a tragic event for this country to put up the flags again and come together.  But we have.  We truly are the United States.  A renewed fire burns in each of us as we watch the heroes in New York City banding together, sacrificing their time, their sleep, and their lives, in hopes of saving even a single person from the devastation that was the World Trade Center.  The fire continues to burn as we watch the sickening celebrations in some Middle East countries, where children dance in the streets, and others pass out candy, being taught to hate already. And the fire grows even stronger as we listen to our president tell us that the state of the union is strong, and that justice will be done.

Now we need to take a stand and support our country and our nation’s leaders as we seek retribution for the attack on our freedom.  We are a changed country, and we can’t go back now.  We should never go back to the complacent lives we lived before.  We must keep the flags waving, and remember why we’ve come together now… to protect and defend our freedom.  This truly is a great nation, and we need to believe in this, not just now, while the events are fresh in our minds and hearts, but also through the coming events, whatever they may be… and forever.  We need to pray, and continue to pray, not just for the missing, or the families of the missing and the dead, but for our country as a whole, and our leaders… and the men and women who will fight for justice in faraway lands.

I thank God every day that none of my loved ones were lost.  This does not mean I am immune to the feelings of loss as I see and read about stories of everyday people who were senselessly murdered in this catastrophe.  I feel as if I know these people, and I grieve with their families, co-workers, and friends.  There was a young woman who came into my store the other day with her small son.  She was looking for anything she could find that was patriotic.  “His grandfather died at the Pentagon, and his father is in the Navy, helping with recovery efforts,” she told me.  Then she said something that rings true to me.  She told me there is nobody in this country who is not somehow touched by this.  She was right.

A new feeling now settles in on me.  I’ve always been interested in the history of wars in which the United States was involved.  I’ve studied books, watched movies and documentaries, and visited museums.  This one will be different.  For the first time, I’m old enough to really understand the situation, and I’m old enough that I know some of those men and women being deployed now to fight are my friends and former classmates.  This will be more personal.  I stand behind the fight and these men and women, and I pray that the Lord will bring them back quickly and safely to their homeland…the land of freedom.

God Bless America!

There was no Youtube when this happened, but images were online, videos circulated, and we all shared the tragedy through these.  Now Youtube has several videos in remembrance, but I just picked one, because many of the images are the ones I remember from that time, and the song that felt like the backdrop to everything for a time was  “God Bless the USA.”

On the day of September 11, 2001, Robert and I had the day off together.  I got up and turned on Today.  Being a bit groggy, I thought the images I was seeing live of the Trade Center were scenes from an upcoming action movie.  When I realized they were not, I went to wake up Robert.  I told him he had to get up because somebody was bombing New York.  We spent that day in a daze, not knowing what to do or how to react.  We could not stop watching the news.

Finally we decided to go out of the apartment and headed to the mall where I worked.  It was quiet and shops were starting to close down.  We went to see my coworkers for a bit; they too had been given the go ahead to shut down.  Nobody was out shopping that day.  As we headed towards the mall exit the song playing was Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World.”  Oh, the irony and eerieness of hearing that song in that moment.  And yet, how hopeful it was to hear it.

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Anyone Can Make a Change

Posted on September 7, 2012 by caverns of my mind

“Be the change that you want to see in the world,” wise words once spoken by Mohandas Gandhi follow me, surround me, breathe me in and spit me out on nearly a daily basis, and yet I often don’t do anything about them.  Until I let these words absorb into who I am and my daily actions, they are meaningless words that just sound good together.  How hypocritical of me to talk of loving others, but then not go through any motions to show it.  I think it.  My heart feels it.  But I often don’t do it.  I need to commit to the action of showing love in order to truly make any impact of change in our world.

I teach my students to “Show, don’t tell” when writing because it makes for more interesting writing.  How much more interesting is it to “Show, don’t tell” real actions of love and compassion?

The last statistic I read about our world’s population was the estimate that sometime before the end of this year we would break the 7 billion figure.  Let me put that into zeros for you:

7,000,000, 000.

Lots of zeros, right?  Now imagine if every one of those people just did one small thing on a daily basis to help or encourage a friend, a neighbor, a loved one, or even a stranger…  What an amazing impact we can all make as a collective mass of humanity.  Sort of the whole “pay it forward” concept (though I saw the movie and it was actually depressing).

See, we often feel our small impact will be negligible in the grand scheme of the world, and so we just don’t do anything.

“Don’t fail to do something just because you can’t do everything.”  Bob Pierce

An old parable (my paraphrase):

After a violent storm ripped through the coastline, thousands of starfish were washed up on the beach.  A young man went for a walk to assess the damage and saw an older man off in the distance, repeatedly bending down and standing back up.  As the young man got closer he saw that the older man was picking up one starfish at a time and casting it back into the sea, which seemed ludicrous to the young man as they stood amidst thousands of stranded starfish.  So he asked the older man what he was doing.  “What difference will it make?  There are thousands of starfish out here.”  The older man stooped to pick up yet another starfish, tossed it into the sea and replied, “It made a difference to that one.”

That’s good stuff right there, and I remind myself of that little story whenever I think I cannot change anything or make any difference in the world around me; after all, there’s so much help needed.  But we can each be just a little bit of the change our world needs, if we all participate.  Small gestures to big gestures… we just need to do what we can.  Maybe it’s buying a restaurant gift card anonymously for a couple whose husband is out of a job and they never get to go out (Thanks to whoever got us the Olive Garden gift card when Robert was unemployed.  No one ever fessed up, but it meant the world to us at that time), or just a smile you give while you pass someone walking out of the grocery store.  Maybe yours is the only smile that person saw all day.  Maybe you are the one who can give a hug or encouraging word to someone who is thinking of ending his or her life, because you are there and listening.

You CAN be the change you wish to see, and then maybe others will follow your example.

This beautiful song and photo montage really captures my message.  Carrie Underwood’s “Change”

“There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore I command you to be openhanded toward your brothers and toward the poor and needy in your land.”  -Deuteronomy 15:11

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Gustar

Posted on September 3, 2012 by caverns of my mind

Something I have NOT done in years is write poetry.  I enjoy prose more, but I used to write poetry almost exclusively.  Here’s one I always liked.

Gustar

I’d like to free the night

And walk on the ocean

I’d like to touch the rain

As it drips from the sky

I’d like to hear a whisper

Carried off in the wind

I’d like to see the air

Resting all around me

I’d like to smell the moon

As it sails through the night

I’d like to taste the sun

Setting slowly at sea

I’d like to pick a yellow rose

And never let it die

I’d like to feel you with me

When you can’t be by my side

-Terree L. Klaes-

1993

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Gone, but Not Forgotten

Posted on August 31, 2012 by caverns of my mind

And this one time… right now (this will make the most sense to Desiree Smedley), my best friend was sad, and I didn’t know the right words to say to make her feel better, so I just sat down and started typing in order to let her know I care and wish I could take away the pain of the loss of her father.

Last Friday, John H. Smedley, Sr., Warren County’s Commissioner of Revenue and my best friend’s father, passed away due to complications after heart surgery.  Just a few days before that, the man had driven himself to the hospital, so this was all quite a shock for everyone.  Since he was the father of my best friend, I saw him quite a bit from my senior year in high school until I moved away three years later (and then every time I came to visit).  He was the kind of guy who would tease his daughter’s friends and crack jokes. He had a great sense of humor and didn’t mind embarrassing himself for a good cause.  He loved his family, and I’m sad to say one of the grandchildren he left behind was Desiree’s little one, Chase.  They had quite a bond.

Chase and his Poppy

What do you say to someone who just lost her father, something you can’t personally understand and hope you never have to?  How do you find the right words for a dear friend who says she doesn’t even think it’s really hit her yet that he’s gone?  How do you comfort someone when you are hundreds of miles away?  I literally cried on her shoulder many times over what I now realize were trivial teenage problems (of course, each time was a crisis to a seventeen-year-old who had never really experienced tragedy), but I can’t be there to let her cry on my shoulder now, and I feel so helpless because of it.  For a person who usually considers herself to be a wordsmith, I can’t seem to find the right ones to put together this time.

So…

I’m going to post some pictures in tribute to a man who was dearly loved and will be missed by many (got them from Desiree’s Facebook).

Check out the dance moves!

More dance moves

It is my understanding that he later won this womanless beauty contest.

But in all seriousness, John H. Smedley, Sr. was a well loved and respected man.

The Commish

Desiree, for all those times we sang this at the top of our lungs while riding around in Barney and D Puppy, here’s Offspring’s “Gone Away” for you.  And because I truly am Randomgirl, I added Fireflight’s “Name,” which will make you cry, so please have tissues handy.

I’ve been trying to come up with something special to do for you all week.  This is what I came up with, and I hope you like it and that you realize I put it together with love for you and your dad.  Consider this my big hug to you.

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When I Needed a Bear Hug

Posted on August 20, 2012 by caverns of my mind

On my drive home from my parents’ 45 anniversary celebration, a familiar song came on my iPod and brought back a flood of memories (sorry for the cliche, but it was raining while I was driving, so it seems fitting).

In 2010, my world changed. Robert and I both had secure jobs, but I always felt his was more secure because he is one of those people who never seems to lack confidence, he was amazing at his job, and everybody there loved and respected him… until he got a new boss.  Then, without going into details I still do not understand, Robert suddenly had no job.  Obviously, this was devastating. My exciting teacher’s salary was maybe 3/4 of what he made (if we didn’t count his yearly bonus), and now we would have to learn to live off of just that, and some unemployment, which really isn’t much of anything.

This happened in April, and I was finishing out a stressful school year- in fact, the most stressful I’d had so far after my first year.  I was depressed and struggled just to get up and go to school.  I know, Robert was the one who lost his job, but I have always been the “Money Nazi” in our marriage, so I may have taken it just as hard as he had.  Fortunately there was a severance package; Robert just needed to get a job before that ran out and we’d be fine.

The severance package ran out at the end of June and Robert had no prospects, unemployment was rising in our county, and we were both losing hope.  I didn’t know what I was going to do to make sure we could eat, keep our house, and survive.

I took up running that summer and had just gotten back from a pathetic run (it was way harder to do than I ever figured it would be, so I was feeling pretty sorry for myself), and I was reflecting on all these hopeless thoughts and circumstances and trying to figure out how I was going to fix it.  I just didn’t know what I was going to do, so after stretching, instead of getting up, I just stayed where I was, prostrate on the floor with tears welling up.

And then a song came on, and I listened to it.  In that moment, I realized I had to stop thinking of what I was going to do.  There wasn’t anything I could do.  The problem was way bigger than just me.  What I had to do was let go of it and realize that God was the only one who could get us through this time.  I had no control over the job market or the economy.  I don’t believe God ever brings bad stuff on us, but we live in an imperfect world, so bad stuff does happen.  But God wants to take care of us and let us know we don’t have to do it alone.  The song made me feel like I was getting a hug from God, all wrapped in His arms.

Fireflight- Wrapped in Your Arms

I suddenly remembered Matthew 6:28-34 (NIV)

28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

I felt loved, protected, and cared for.  I let go of my worries at that time.  I’m not saying everything was perfect after that or that my faith never once faltered, but I kept remembering all the promises God made to us, and all we have to do is give up control to Him.  It’s no coincidence (well, maybe, since I was purposely listening to Fireflight) that after I listened to the previous song a few times, the very next one followed up that message, securing my hope.

Fireflight- You Gave Me a Promise

After almost twenty months, Robert got a job.  Twenty months of unemployment and uncertainty later, we had pulled through, still had a house, and had not starved to death.  Actually, though it had been tight at times, miraculously, we always had at least exactly what we needed.

Maybe that’s where you are right now, needing that hug.  If so, I hope this helped.  We learned so much during that time, and we are now so much stronger in our faith.

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Please Don’t Call Me a Tease, Even if I Am

Posted on August 19, 2012 by caverns of my mind

I’ve decided to give you all another little sample from my book.

I See What You Mean

Soon after we got back to school, I got called into the nurse’s office.  She wanted to check my vision.  I looked at charts with all sorts of letters, with one eye, then the other, then both.  She asked me if I ever got headaches, did I have to squint a lot, and where did I sit in my classes?  No on the headaches, yes on the squinting, sometimes, and in the back whenever possible were my replies.

“Drew, I am making a note for my records, and I am sending home a letter with you to your parents suggesting they take you to get glasses.”  She smiled like she hadn’t just said every teenage girl’s nightmare was now happening to me.

“Glasses?” I tripped over the word, practically spitting it out, which would have been really embarrassing.

“Or contacts,” she added with a reassuring note.  “That’s up to you and your parents.  But you can’t keep ignoring the problem.  Your eyes will just get worse.”

The funny thing was that I had never noticed I had a problem until that day.  I never thought about how natural it felt to squint my eyes into the perfect slat to make the board visible, or the fact that I often dazed off when it came time to read overheads or watch videos.  Everyone did that.  At home, I usually planted myself on the floor with a pillow, so I was never extremely far away from the TV, and books were held closely anyway.  Glasses.  How could this be?  After that day, all of these irritations became more noticeable to me, and I was getting frustrated, but would not give my parents the note from the nurse.  I figured she would forget all about me.  I was usually good at being forgotten by adults, being the quiet one and all.  But I had a bad feeling when I got off the bus one afternoon.  Usually I had the bad feeling when I got on the bus, so I knew there had to be a problem.

“Drew,” my mother greeted me at the door that day.  Unusual.  “Has anything interesting come up at school over the last few weeks?”  I thought for a long while.  I knew I was making mostly B’s in my classes, so nothing there alarmed me.  The bus rides, though dreaded, had been uneventful, and I had actually put the visit with the nurse in the back of my mind by then, as much as possible.

“No, not really.  They started serving curly fries in the cafeteria,” I offered.  I wasn’t trying to be funny, but Mom thought so.

“Young lady, vision impairment is a serious matter.”  In my mind, everything came crashing down on me.  The nurse must have called because the letter was so far lost in my locker, it would have taken the jaws-of-life to dig it out.

“Oh yeah, that.  I forgot to tell you.”  I was able to use my meager eyesight to focus in on a speck of dirt on the floor, avoiding eye contact with my mom.

“Just like you forgot to give me the letter the nurse sent home, right?”

“You know I always forget to give you notes and letters from school.  Remember when I had to clean my room when we packed everything up to move?  There were probably hundreds of notes under my bed and shoved in drawers.  It’s kinda what I do,” I chanced a smile, remembering too late that vision impairment is serious.

“I called and made an appointment for Thursday with an optometrist.  We’ll get your eyes tested, and then you can pick out some glasses.”

“Does it have to be glasses?  Could I get contacts, please?  I don’t want to look like a geek.”

“Drew, I don’t know about looking like a geek or dweeb or whatever.  Your eyesight is important.  We’ll have to see how much contacts cost.  But the bottom line is that you need to be able to see the bottom line.”  She seemed to smirk, realizing her play on words.  I was not amused.  My life was over.
Copyright 2012

If you like it, if you can relate to it, or if you know anyone else who can relate to this, or who is in middle school now, you can find the entire book, Memoirs of an Ordinary Girl by Terri Klaes Harper, on Amazon’s kindle store (btw- you can download a free kindle app onto pretty much any electronic device).  If you love it, spread the word, rate it, and/or like my author page on Facebook.

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Make Room

Posted on August 18, 2012 by caverns of my mind

It is a nearly unavoidable fact that your life’s routine will get in the way of your dreams and goals, especially when they are already verging on what some people might consider weird or unrealistic.

After being back to work only one week, I quickly realized this to be true.  I have lofty plans and goals, and what I think is a “calling” that just seems so far away right now that my daily routine of being a teacher is threatening to bury that under a pile of lesson plans to create, student work to grade, and materials to read.  These are pending, and my duty as an educator, so how can I put them aside in order to work towards something that still seems a bit crazy in my own mind?

I cannot answer that question.  Sometimes we just have to make room in our lives for the unusual tasks in order to fulfill something extraordinary… and extraordinary rarely happens instantaneously, nor is it easy.

I just finished an inspiring book called Three Cups of Tea, which retells the true story of Greg Mortenson, a mountain climber who just happened to be inspired to build a school in a remote village of Pakistan.  He had no means to do this and no connections.  In fact, he lived in his car in San Francisco.  Yet this man has now successfully built several schools in remote villages of Pakistan (schools really concentrating on educating girls and hoping to educate to bring peace), and now in Afghanistan.

It just takes someone crazy or determined enough to make room to pursue a passion.

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In Ten Months I Get out on Good Behavior!

Posted on August 13, 2012 by caverns of my mind

I am certain summer breaks were longer when I was a kid.  Also, I’m pretty sure science will conclude that there is an equal number of seconds, minutes, and hours in a day all year long, but I think the summer days (not the actual season, but the days between the last day of one school year and the beginning of the next) are actually shorter (some sort of secret conspiracy).  Then the extra time taken out is somehow added to the days that are part of the school year, but we can’t tell because we’re so busy…

Oh well.  All this ranting must mean I’m about to start another year of teaching.  It’s weird how when I was a student, I usually was at least somewhat looking forward to the start of a new year by the time the first day rolled around.  As a teacher, I’m waiting to experience that, “I’m ready to start a new year,” feeling.  Instead, part of me is in denial, and the other part is revolting against it.

So let me take stock of what I was able to accomplish over my summer break (this list may not be in order of priorities):

I was able to find time for reading, though not as many books as I had hoped

I began to find my voice here as a blogger (what I really mean is that I noticed people started reading my posts)

I spent quality time with my children (ok, they’re dogs, but to me they are my children)

I contemplated the meaning of life (my life anyway)

I spent time with friends, family, and my husband

I raised awareness of human trafficking

I took naps 🙂

I slept an average of eight hours a night instead of the six I get the rest of the year (oh- that’s where the extra time went!)

I mowed the lawn once

I helped my husband begin the next phase of bathroom renovation

I worked on taking care of my body (better food and exercise at least some of the time)

I went on a mission trip to Costa Rica

and, oh yeah, I published my book…finally.

I guess I can feel good about what I got done, but I have so much more I want to do.  Sadly, I usually feel like I have to put everything I really want to do on hold for ten months.  My goal is not to do that so much this school year.  I’ve set some personal goals, and I am really going to have to continually kick myself in the butt in order to do them.  I think I’ve found some motivation now though, which has been the missing ingredient in past years.

And, the blog posts will be less frequent, I know.  However, I am setting a goal to write at least one each week, and the topics will remain as scattered and inconsistent as ever.

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Ready to Break Some Rules?

Posted on August 10, 2012 by caverns of my mind

My students would laugh at this following tidbit of a story, or shake their fists at me in anger.  I always tell them not to begin their essays with onomatopoeia.  Seriously, it tends to feel quite juvenile and often they cannot make it flow into their writing.  It might read something like this: “Boom.  That’s the sound the locker made when they boy slammed it shut in the hallway yesterday.”  Agh! It makes me want to pull out my eyelashes one at a time, and it reminds me of Ben Stein’s character on The Wonder Years and in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

Then I found an old bit of something I wrote back when I was their age (tenth grade).  I do not teach creative writing though, just academic writing, so there is a difference.  It’s not quite a masterpiece; however, I always was fond of this:

The Gate by Terree Klaes (That’s how I used to spell my name- you know, for create purposes)

Bong! Bong! Bong!  Three a.m.  “Where is he?” I kept thinking to myself.  It was cold out and my whole face was getting numb.  I hated meeting him in the park so early in the morning.  Why couldn’t I just send him the money?

He had said a quarter to three.  I remembered because he had called me at work.  That was something he had never done before.

Once every month I would meet him by the entrance of the park, across from the clock tower.  Never before had he been late.

I always felt like criminal, standing by the gate with a big brown envelope tucked in my trench coat.  What I had done was nothing compared to what I felt like doing to him.  Many times I had imagined him coming to the park for his money.  I would pull out a gun and shoot him in the chest. Finally, I would be through with him.  But I couldn’t take a chance on something like that.  That could just get me into more trouble.

Why he insisted on torturing me, I couldn’t figure out, besides greed.  I had paid back every cent of the money I took.  The way I looked at the situation, it was over.

A shadow was coming up the sidewalk.  At this hour, it had to be him.  The figure walked past.  An elderly woman.

Now he was a half hour late.  Should I leave?  I didn’t know.  If I did, and he showed up, he could ruin me.  But what if he just wasn’t coming?  Then I would be at the park all night.

I had decided to leave the envelope with the money by the gate.  If he showed up, he would find it.  If not, it would be a nice gift for someone else.  Just as I was about to set the envelope down, I heard footsteps.  It was him.  Finally.

We got into an argument about the price I should be paying.  I was furious.  I opened my purse, puled out a gun, and shot him in the chest. Then I ran as fast as I could with the money still in my trench coat.

Nobody ever found out who killed him.  No one had any idea.

I was just thinking about how I also broke the rule I teach my students about not writing too many short, choppy sentences, and yet I had done it to create a feeling of impatience and frustration.  I guess I like to apply the idea of, “you have to know the rules first before you can properly break them.”  Not that this little story is perfect; I was only 14 or 15 when I wrote it.  I’ve been trying to figure out if I should try to do anything else with it or just let it rest in peace.

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