Alone in a crowd...

~ Aiden entered the tiny cafe and did what he always did first. He stopped just inside the door and took a very deep breath. As always it smelled of coffee and chocolate and toasted bread and something else that always eluded him. Was it wood? A spice? Aiden never spent to long mulling over that, lest he ruin it by actually recognizing the scent.
It was a small place, tucked in between two buildings with a tiny sign out front that, though bad for hauling in more patron base, was good in the respect that the place was always quite, never crowded, and the people that were there you'd probably seen there many, many times before.
As it was such a long and narrow space the few seats near the bank of windows in the front were taken almost continually. Aiden was ok with that. He preferred to sit farther back, in one of the invitingly dim, by comparison at least, nooks or crannies. Today though he wasn't alone and not likely to want to sit in an isolated nook watching the world spin about him, while his own personal time stood still in its continuum. This time he went to one of the tables at the front, delicately sun splashed and miraculously uninhabited. He gestured Jacob to a chair.
“So what do you think? I've always liked this place. Found it by almost getting hit by a car.” Jacob glanced around and shot a charmingly casual smile at the cashier.
“Oh yeah? Nice place.”
The cashier blushed in an incredibly adolescent manner and went back to mixing the latte for the customer at the counter. She promptly messed up the order, blushed again and started over. Jacob tactfully didn't notice and scanned the large blackboard that the menu was scrawled on.
"So, what's good here?" ~
~ I made this!

Update: I am currently on page 16 of the would be manuscript. That is roughly a tenth of the size of an "average" novel. So far I think that it's going well. The pacing can be scary. The reassuring thing is that with the kind of format that I've used so far I think that I could go back and insert some additional scenes, should the central plot line end up shorter then I intended. I am constantly hit by tiny modules of panicked worry that this endeavor will not only come to nothing because of the fact that I am making a point of writing, but that I will also completely ruin the story because I rushed it. Hopefully I am wrong on both counts. I have gone back and rewritten one scene that I was not happy with. That was somewhat reassuring. Nothing is permanent.

Second stage of grief...

~ Aiden didn't return to his room until much later that night. He was satisfyingly exhausted, wet from the rain that just kept coming, and, for one of the first times in his life, just a little bit drunk.
Unfortunately, he was abruptly sobered when he switched on the lights to find his cat and the dragon sitting on the table, apparently having just been interrupted from a deep conversation.
Aiden stood in the door for a bit, silently dripping, taking in the peaceful, if not common, scene.
"I thought you were leaving." There was no question to it, just resignation. Aiden closed the door, shed his coat and sat on the bed. He leaned forward, maybe swaying just a tiny bit. For some reason he suddenly got the impression that the dragon was sympathetic. It made Aiden a little angry. The dragon shook his tiny head.
"No, no I wasn't actually. Even if I'd wanted to though, how could I? You locked the door."
"There's a lovely balcony just outside that's perfect for jumping off of." Aiden muttered fiercely. ~
~ I made this.

That's just ridiculous...

~ Aiden paced the room compulsively. The dragon watched him. Adrasteia watched the dragon. Aiden knew well and good that he'd never had control of his life, lately though he could feel the tenuous resemblance of a grasp that he did have slipping out of his hands at an alarming rate. He halted suddenly, directly in front of the dragon.
"Why are you here? Why did you speak to me? Am I going crazy? Who sent you?" The dragon gazed at him seriously.
"You're a very lucky man you know."
"Lucky? Are you insane? Every bad thing that could possibly happen to me has!" The dragon raised one green, delicately feathered eyebrow."You're alive aren't you? Do you want to know why?"
Without a hint of sarcasm or bitterness Aiden guessed, "Because I'm to stupid to do myself in?" The dragon gave him a scathing look.
"No. You have survived thus far because, and only because I might add, Luck decided to mediate on your behalf. How could you not know this?"
If Aiden were not the type of man in possession of a good amount of seriously well-honed will power he would have rejoined with, "I don't believe in luck." or something else as deeply sacrilegious. It would have been honest, yes, but somehow he got the impression that it would also have been extraordinarily offensive to at least one individual present. That being the case, he kept his thoughts to himself. He'd never found the concept of luck all that compelling. The very foundation of it all insinuated that one would likely have good luck at some point in their life. That threw Aiden off right there.
"So luck mediated for me ey? How so exactly?"Aiden had always wondered if dragons could roll their eyes and for a second he thought he'd find out.
"Think Aiden! You were not in your house when it was razed. You were not is your last car when those two desperate bank robbers requisitioned it. You were not in the one before that when it was jerked into that wormhole." Aiden blinked. "You're family went on vacation the week the daycare had their gas leak. Mt St. Helens erupted one day, five hours and 13 minutes after you left the North face. You left early because you broke your leg remember? You had to wait 14 seconds for a urinal and consequently that power line fell on the car four places in front of yours. That was a plastic knife you stuck in the electrical outlet when you were two. That flight that you were bumped off of because it was full, causing you to spend Christmas in the airport, that flight was hijacked. Yes Aiden, all these years you've thought that the Universe was out to get you. Well you were right. But all these years Luck has been working night and day to keep you from shuffling off this mortal coil and you've not given him a second thought. What have you got to say about that?"
The dragon waited. Aiden simply stared at it, his expression as unreadable as bicycle assembly instructions to a sleep deprived drunk man. The moment stretched long. Suddenly Aiden began to laugh. Not a pleasant, friendly chuckle either, this was an abrupt, twisted, edging-towards-hysteria kind of laugh.
Aiden laughed for a very long time. He stopped, composed his features, wiped his eyes and said, "I understand now. It has all been made perfectly clear to me." The dragon looked pleased for just a moment. "I have finally gone off the deep end and you, my fine jade friend, are a figment of my imagination." The dragon looked hurt and scandalized.
"That's not true. I'm afraid mental illness would be the easy way out."
"Nevertheless I'm going to take it. It's about time I got to go the "easy way". I'm going to eat dinner now and I sincerely hope that when I get back you'll be gone. I've had enough."
Adrasteia and the dragon watched silently as Aiden gathered keys, coat and wallet and left the room without giving either a second glance. ~
~ I made this!

A disturbing conversation...

~ "Master Diamon, a telephone call for you."
"Oh, thank you Phillip." Jacob took possession of the phone wondering if white gloves hadn't indeed gone out with the 30's. Not that he didn't like the staff to look spiffy, just seemed a bit starched. "Hello?"
"Jacob. What are you doing at Uncle Woodworth's? I've spent all day trying to track you down. Where are mom and dad?"
"Well it's good to hear from you again too Aiden!" The sarcasm dripping from Jacob's voice really should have been collected for the manufacture of artificial sweetener. "Come on bro, I haven't talked to you for weeks! If you must know right away, the pure and simple facts, unbuffered by any of the usual pleasantries or salutations, are these: I am staying at Uncle Woodworth's because he kindly agreed to put me up while I'm on holiday from university.
I couldn't reside at the family estate because mom and dad have leased it out while they are traveling to tour the Swiss Alps and taste beer in Germany.
You didn't know all of this sooner because I couldn't get ahold of you. I tried your house many a time."
Aiden contemplated what he'd been told. He vividly imagined a phone ringing heartily, buried somewhere deep in the midst of the decimated building materials that he'd called home for a short period of time.
Jacob, cheerfully oblivious, was the person to break that reverie.
"So listen, I'm gonna be coming to Mexico next week for some surfing, maybe I could nip back up to the States and hang out with you for a bit. Hey! I could finally see that house of yours! What's it been? A year since you moved in?"
There was a pause that must have been in it's second or third trimester.
"Jacob, have you talked to mom or dad at all in the last three days?"
"No, not since they left." Jacob admitted lightheartedly. "Why? What's up?" For the first time a tiny element of doubt insinuated itself into his voice.
"My house is gone Jacob."
"Gone? What do you mean gone? You sold it?"
"No...It exploded."
"My gosh! Are you alright? You weren't in it when it happened were you? Of course not, you'd be dead. I mean...My gosh."
"I'm fine. I was in the driveway."
A little shiver ran up Jacob's spine. Aiden sounded like he was talking about the weather. Sounded like he'd been expecting this to happen.
"Well what are you going to do? Where are you now?"
"I'm currently sleeping at a hotel. I'm going to wait for the insurance claim to go through and then I imagine I'll find another place to live."
There was another pause and Aiden wondered what Jacob was thinking. He found out soon enough.
"Well that sounds just bully Aiden. Creative as well. Totally off the wall really. However did you come up with that?"
"You've no call for sarcasm Jacob. Unless you have a better plan then mine. Do you?"
Aiden's voice was completely level, so level water would have pooled on it, but Jacob could easily imagine the irritated look on his face. It wouldn't be obvious. If you didn't know him you might miss it. If you did know him though, it would hit you like the proverbial ton of bricks. Jacob knew that Aiden was nearing his limit and so reigned in his shock and curiosity accordingly. Aiden was unflappable, yes. Immune to trauma, no.
"Sorry Aiden. Is there anything I can do for you? Anything you need?"
"What I need you can't give me Jake, but thanks for offering."
Aiden sounded tired. Tired and alone. And he was. ~
~ Me again

The unavoidable encounter...

~ When Aiden walked through the door Adrasteia was already alert. He'd brought something back with him.
Aiden pulled the dragon, once again still, from his pocket and set it on the table. Adrasteia leapt up, all business, wiry muscle and fluid iron determination. She looked it over carefully, sniffed it from all angles and gave it a push with one paw. Just as Aiden began thinking that maybe the decorative item would remain a decorative item, he heard the voice again.
"Peace Guardian Adrasteia, Sacred Keeper I mean your charge no harm."
Aiden's jaw dropped as he watched his cat consider the words, apparently weighing their honesty, glance at him, and then retire to the windowsill.
The dragon's talons made little clinking noises as it walked across the polished tabletop. For being made of stone it actually moved quite gracefully, Aiden realized. ~
~ All mine.

A fortuitous talent...

~ As men go Jacob Diamon was noticeably unspectacular, a talent that he'd used to his advantage many a time, particularly as a young schoolboy.
Unknowingly aiding towards those same ends his older brother Aiden was all to noticeable, accentuating Jacob's "blendability" just that much more. With the trouble Aiden had had in school, Jacob's reliable B and C record and habit of, in general, simply staying under the radar was something of a relief to their parents.
It wasn't that Aiden was slow or intentionally disruptive. He had always carefully maintained his position at or near the top of the class. Always been respectful and undemonstrative. No, it was more the case that everyone, fellow students and teachers alike, were disturbed by his unnaturally calm, imperturbable air. That, and things always happened around him. Strange things. Unexplainable things.
Jacob, and in fact most of the people surrounding his big brother, never once actually believed that Aiden was responsible for the unusual goings on, you couldn't help but wonder after the correlation though. Who else had bike tires, completely new ones, that went flat every single day by the time class was out through the entire 4th, 5th and 6th grades? As with everything else Aiden met this with unfailing resignation. He carried a tire pump in his backpack. ~
~ I made this!

The fine line between sanity and chaos...

~ Aiden did not visit Hannah Larson often. His consultations with her could be likened to the average person's view of colonic irrigation. Not something you'd want to do everyday, but when you're severely constipated it starts to seem like not such a bad idea.
Aiden had never once elected to come by for a cup of herb tea and a bit of gossip. He was driven there by life events. He was seeing her increasingly often these days. Of the news he'd come to her with in the past, his house exploding was definitely the most exciting. At least more so then the spontaneous combustion of his computer or the disappearance of his car.
Aiden didn't really know why exactly he kept coming here. It's not like she ever did anything that really helped the situation, but she did know what was going on at least. He'd been convinced through his teen years that she had something to do with it. Had some control over what was happening to him. He had thought about murdering her. She'd sent him a letter via a strong gust of wind, telling him it wouldn't do any good. Aiden hadn't slept for a week after that.
Aiden clung to her and despised her all at the same time. And now her incense burners were talking to him.
Aiden didn't spend much time in idle speculation but he took a moment now to wonder what it would be like to find out that his entire life up to this point were actually a dream and to wake up normal in a world where jade dragons remained frozen and inanimate, and the universe was nothing more then a benign, abstract concept.
He realized to late that he had once again missed everything that the dragon said. He saw movement behind the beaded curtain and was aware of someone making their way down the dim, narrow passageway, probably, to collect him.
Without pausing to actually think it through Aiden came forward, leaned over the shelf and hurriedly gestured to his pocket. He was a little surprised when the dragon actually seemed to understand and jumped unquestioningly into it just as Ted Patterson reentered the crowded shop front and beckoned silently for him to come along.
Aiden felt his stone companion, heavy and cold, move about against his chest, finally settle himself comfortably, and then lay still.
Aiden followed Mr. Patterson into the dark. ~
~ I made this!

A timely exit...

~ Jacob didn't actually mean to smash the vase, but he couldn't swear that it was wholly unintentional either. Looking back on it he could see now that it had probably been a bad idea either way. His uncle's butler was just rounding the corner. Jacob did a quick scan of the room to see if there was any scenery handy that he could melt into. There wasn't. There never is.
"Master Diamon, are you alright?" Jacob could see that the fake concern was just killing the man. He decided to roll with that.
"Oh my goodness! Phillip! I think I may have sprained my wrist trying to catch that vase. What a shame it was all for naught! Such a beautiful piece!"
Jacob added a couple of soft "tsk's" for good measure while he gazed down at the broken shards with as much mournfulness as he would if it had been a small, recently demised child. He cradled his left wrist gingerly.
Phillip raised an immaculate eyebrow. "Really sir? What a pity."
Jacob nodded his agreement and winced convincingly.
"Why don't you nip round to the kitchen and see if Mrs. Dalinger can't fix you up. I'll just clean up the remains of this 17th century artifact shall I?"
"That would be top drawer Phillip." Jacob went for his exit with good hustle, but no more then one might expect from someone belabored by a vase-sprained wrist. He silently congratulated himself. He was pretty good at this. ~
~S'all mine

Yes dear readers, in one fell swoop I have almost doubled the number of characters associated with Aiden! "How does she do it!?" You are no doubt asking yourselves. Well first you need a rubber glove, one of those seat belt protectors, some broccoli, one generic Claritin tablet, a lollipop and a gold anklet...
Wait just a minute, that's the recipe for complex plot line! Anyway, it doesn't matter, what I wanted you to know is that this is part of Aiden's story. So there you go. That wasn't so bad was it?

Who knew they talk...

~ Aiden took three rapid steps backwards and ran into a rack full of long dangling brass wind chimes, starting, what seemed to him, to be an absolutely deafening storm of clanging.
The tiny jade dragon, three inches high at the most, hopped off his wooden base and advanced to the edge of the shelf. It stared at Aiden for a moment as if trying to figure out his shock and then its mouth began moving again.
Aiden straightened and stared aghast back at the little thing. The chimes still clanged behind him, his own heart beat in his ears was doing it's level best to rival the actual thunder outside that was continually growing louder, heralding the approaching tempest. It was rather discomfiting to Aiden that, over all of that, he could still hear the voice of the dragon.
He hit the chime rack again when he realized that he was actually hearing the voice in his head.
The talking stopped once more while the dragon paused for another moment, this time with an obviously peeved look on his face.
"Are you listening?" he demanded.
Aiden wasn't sure that he should try to explain that he'd been to surprised to listen to the jade dragon. Instead he just opted to nod dumbly. He knew that in a minute he'd feel embarrassed about being so disconcerted.
And it was with this fact in mind that Aiden took a moment to regain his composure. Drawing a deep and calming breath, he took a step towards the dragon.
"Yes. Yes, I'm ready to listen." ~
~ From my world

The undeniable anger...

~ Aiden stared out of the big dusty picture window overlooking the inky street in front of the shop. The wind had kicked up and the rain pelted the glass in furious spatters. The universe was angry, he could feel it.
Aiden turned his back to the window. Even if there was something he could do in the way of satiation, he very much doubted that he would expend the energy. He was tired of the game, the only problem was he didn't think he would be allowed to quit playing.
If it was possible though there was one person in the world that would have a chance of knowing how. Hannah Larson. If she didn't he doubted that anyone anywhere did.
The only problem with that was that Aiden was fairly sure of himself when he thought that if she knew of a way she would have told him about it long before now. She hated the game as much as he did. Perhaps more.
For the millionth time in Aiden's 27 years his soul pleaded with the universe for the answer to "Why?"
It didn't come this time either. Aiden hadn't expected it to. Answers to his questions didn't seem to be very high on the universe's priority list.
Aiden reached out and fingered a stick of myrrh in a basket on the nearest shelf. He jerked his hand back immediately and violently when he thought he saw the tiny dragon that decorated one of the incense burners blink at him.
Aiden shook his head and took a deep breath. He was cracking up. Positively cracking up.
And then it spoke. ~
~ From Renee's world

More on Aiden...

~ Hannah Larson was old. She'd outlived her friends and husband. She'd outlived her son and daughter. She was getting close to outliving her grandson. Nobody really remembered her actual age, but it didn't matter. Hannah Larson was old. Very old. And she knew things. She knew things about The Boy.
In some small way she hoped that once he had served his purpose, and thus she served hers, she could finally die. Her grandson had never married. Once he was gone she'd have no one. No one in the world. She doubted that there was a person alive that could handle that.
Hannah Larson knew why God had created man. Because He was lonely. ~
~ I made this!
A Selfish Production

Continuation...

~ It wasn't as stormy out as he might have hoped, but at least it was decently dark.
Aiden strode up to the doorway of the tiny shop with a kind of disconcerting carelessness. As always the place looked sinister. It had nothing to do with the weather, it just had an aura of the diabolical about it.
Aiden kept waiting for the day that he would fling open the door and be silhouetted for a brief moment by a timely flash of lightning, the rain blowing in around him, his long coat waving about his legs. But, unfortunately, the conditions had never been quite right and Aiden would rather it didn't happen at all then for it to seem slipshod. Yes, he could give the elements all the time they needed to get their act together.
With this in mind Aiden rang the bell rather then kicking in the door.
As you would expect, a wizened old man answered it. Aiden greeting him in a not unfriendly manner.
"Hello Mr. Patterson, I'm here to see your grandmother."
"Oh sure sonny, sure. Come on in, I'll let her know you're here."
In his prime he would have been a good head shorter then Aiden. Now it was at least twice that. He didn't have that much hair left, but the few courageous strands that had held their ground were swept across the rather large bare patch in the middle. The last outposts.
He left Aiden in the front of the shop while he hobbled to the curtain guarding the entrance to the tiny home beyond.
"Nana, The Boy is here to see you." ~
~ I made this!
A Selfish Production

An act of God?...

~ The insurance agent went to stand next to Aiden on the driveway.
"Yup, she doesn't look pretty." He confided knowingly.
Aiden looked askance at the short balding fellow. For the love of all that was good and holy! Not another one! He knew that somewhere, somewhere on the planet earth there must exist an insurance agent that was not irrevocably drawn to stating the moronically obvious. He turned to fully face the man.
"You know those are the exact words that I said to myself. Exactly."
"Uh, really?" The man looked at Aiden again. Aiden looked dead serious. But how serious could he be? He had a small tabby sitting in the front seat of his car. But then, she looked rather serious too. The insurance man stifled a laugh.
"Anyway, the inspector hasn't found any signs that there was structural instability, there were no quakes or tremors the day this happened. Fact is, your house seems to have just...exploded."
"You don't say?" Aiden tried to look thoughtful and speculative.
The insurance man peered at him closely, like you might do to a questionable black speck in your tapioca pudding.
"We're going to have some paperwork you'll need to fill out." ~
~ I made this!
A Selfish Production

~ "Hello and welcome to the 7:45 news, I'm Buttly Nightwax." ~
~ Peace

Is surrender an option?...

~ The first thing Aiden saw upon entering his room was Adrasteia napping at her new post. On top of his pillow.
And the phone was ringing.
Aiden set down his foil encased steak au poivre and the phone silenced. His cell started two seconds later. His father. Aiden didn't pick up.
Adrasteia stood and stretched. Aiden set the little bowl of cream that the thoughtful maitre d' had included for his "leetle pussy cat" on the floor and called her over. Like any self-respecting feline she took her time and made sure that it looked like coming to Aiden was her idea.
Aiden sat on the edge of the bed and watched her lap at her little treat. His eye drifted to his duffle bags. The bellboy had set them up on the luggage racks as carefully as any matched, monogrammed leather set.
Aiden knew that, to plagiarize, resistance was futile. You can run but you can't hide. And running pretty much just insures that you die tired.
Aiden hadn't run from his fate since he'd been a boy. He'd always known it would be this way. Always. That didn't make it any easier for a child to accept though. ~
It's all me!
A Selfish Production

Care to sniff the cork sir?...

~ Aiden rang his insurance agent as soon as he and his tabby were checked into the hotel.
Yes, yes his house exploded. No, it wasn't burned down. No, he didn't know how it happened. Yes, he was sure it had exploded. Yes, he knew an investigation would be necessary. Yes, tomorrow would be fine.
He gently returned the phone to it's cradle and immediately it rang.
Aiden was expecting it.
Hello. Yes mom, he was fine. No, she didn't need to fly in, as he'd said in his message. Yes, he'd let her know as soon as he'd heard anything from the insurance. Oh, that's room service at the door. Gotta go.
Aiden sat on the bed for a bit. He went into the bathroom and unwrapped some little soaps. He reentered the bedroom and ate the mint that some hardworking, kindhearted housekeeper had left on his pillow. He untucked the sheets from the foot of the bed.
Aiden had rather claustrophobic feet.
Adrasteia sat observing from the window sill, her languid attention divided between Aiden and a tiny bird hopping about on the balcony, blissfully ignorant of how ridiculously thin the sheet of glass holding back it's feline predator was.
Adrasteia's tail twitched.
Aiden considered really calling room service. It was, after all, nearing lunch time. He rose decisively and strode into the hall, shutting the door with a satisfying click.
Aiden's gung-ho attitude only lasted through the appetizer.
The hotel dining room's authentic French maitre d' hovered over him like a nervous butterfly.
Aiden picked at his food noncommittally.
Was everything alright with Monsieur's entree? Yes, it was fine. Would Monsieur like a coffee instead of wine? A cup of coffee would be delightful.
Aiden was still bitter about not having his morning coffee.
Must the universe take everything from him?
But alas, he knew that there was no point in asking that question.
Aiden sipped at his coffee, and burned his tongue.
Aiden realized that he was what you might call upset. He thought though, that it would probably be difficult for anyone to come to terms with their house exploding, no matter their past experiences.
He lifted the delicate china creamer and noticed that his hand was shaking.
Aiden asked the attentive maitre d' if he could have his food wrapped. ~
~ Mine, gimme.
A Selfish Production

And he's back...

~ Aiden fished his cat out from under the holly bush and carried her to his car, placing her on the front seat beside his brief case.
Time to hit the hotel.
Aiden made his way around the remnants of his house to the small shed in the back corner of the yard. He pulled off the padlock and opened the door. He pushed his shiny, green lawn mower out of the way and reached for Adrasteia's carrier and the blue duffel bags that had been kept there since the day he'd moved in.
Naturally the universe could have taken out the shed as well, but this time it hadn't.
Aiden was used to keeping most everything of value to him on or quite near his person. His laptop, bankbook and personal documents traveled to and from work with him everyday. He insured everything.
He re-locked the shed and carried his bags to the car, placing them neatly in the back seat along with the carrier. Adrasteia watched calmly from atop his briefcase. For now he left her there as he went in search of a jump.
As luck would have it his blackberry thicket owning neighbor was using their paper boy's fantastically bad aim as an excuse to scope out Aiden's interesting predicament.
When he saw Aiden strolling toward him he put more energy into his supposed paper search.
A jump? Why certainly. Thicketman would be glad to give Aiden a jump.
Aiden found it incredibly amusing to watch Thicketman trying to come up with a way to ask him why his house was unusually flat this morning. Why he had overnight bags and a speculative looking tabby sitting in his Honda.
Unfortunately he was unable to come up with that particular conversation starter before the Honda was resuscitated.
His cables were disconnected, his hand shaken warmly. He was thanked politely for his assistance and given an unspoken, subtle, tactful and utterly unmistakable dismissal.
He got his car back to his own driveway and was making his way inside, paper completely forgotten, when he turned to look back at his neighbor.
Aiden, cat, Honda and duffel bags were gone. ~
~I made this!

A PS to my regular readers (doesn't that sound snazzy? Regular Readers...) I am sorry for not updating for almost the entirety of break but I have been quite busy. It's been a hectic time for me. Look for me more once school starts again.
Oh, and it's my birthday! And I'm gonna party like it's my birthday. Cause it is. I'm also going to take 21 fake shots. I do a pretty good fake drunk and I'd figured that I could then get fake alcohol poisoning and make a fake run to the emergency room. We may not have time for the last two activities but you can bet the farm that 21 fake shots are going down tonight.

Adrasteia the Great...

~ A question we should all ask ourselves is: What would be the first thing I'd do if my house exploded?
Aiden had not considered that event and so was at something of a loss. It struck him that, despite a house being suddenly obliterated in it's midst, the delicate gear work of the neighborhood seemed to continue operating as usual.
Aiden wondered if he was, in fact, delusional. If his house was, in fact, still whole and unharmed. If he was, in fact, sitting on the grass beside a holly bush in front of a completely normal house.
No. He disregarded that theory. Aiden's mind wouldn't dare cop out on him and his, up to this point, fairly well-groomed life.
His house had really gone without much of a fight. Not a lot of noise or scattering of debris. The wreckage was fairly well contained. No flames. Not even a bit of dramatic spouting water. It had just exploded.
Aiden figured that he should call the insurance at some point. He knew that after the long and arduous investigation the explosion would be written off as an "act of God". What else could they call it?
There really is no place to hide when the universe is out to get you.
Aiden's cat came strolling around the corner of his wreckage and toward him across his neatly trimmed lawn. She did not look surprised either. After 5 years with Aiden maybe she'd gotten used to inexplicable events. Or maybe she was just acting like a cat.
Her name was Adrasteia after the nymph who raised Zeus from a babe. Aiden had called her this with a touch of irony. It means "she whom none escapes". Nothing like a cat to protect you from the universe. Aiden looked under the holly bush at his protector. She was nonchalantly chowing down on a twitching grasshopper.
No wonder she'd thrown up on his carpet. ~
~ S'all me baby

And then things got worse...

~ Aiden hit the steering wheel with the flat of his hand (as if the car needed to be punished) and drove the thorn he'd picked up rescuing his Tribune deeper into his palm. Aiden had always hated blackberries.
He clambered out of his car and stood on the driveway glaring at the world. He'd call Linda. Linda might be able to pick him up on her way in. He bristled at the thought of asking back-stabbing Linda for a favor. It might take a bribe or two, but he had to get to work somehow.
Aiden pulled out his cell phone and stalked over to the big holly bush in his front yard. The only place, he'd discovered long ago, he could get service on his property.
Aiden kicked leaves impatiently while Linda's phone rang.
And then his house exploded.
Aiden was not shocked by this. This would be the morning his house exploded. It occurred to him that his cat should feel very grateful that he'd exiled her outside after she'd thrown up in his living room.
Linda picked up.
"Hello...Hello?"
"You know what, never mind." Aiden hung up.
He sat down by his holly bush and looked at the mass of splintered wood and unidentifiable refuse that used to be his house. He had to admit, the universe had definitely won this round. ~
~ I made this!

Mama said there'd be days like this...

~ Aiden woke up with a splitting headache.
And then things got worse.
This would be the morning his cat threw up on the carpet.
This would be the morning his paper was flung deep into the wild blackberry thicket his neighbor so humorously called "a hedge".
This would be the morning he locked himself out of the front door and almost had a coronary before discovering that he'd left the back door open.
This would be the morning he was out of coffee.
Aiden wanted the universe to grind to an agonizing halt.
It didn't.
He gulped down a glass of cran-cherry juice with his (naturally!) burnt toast all the while cramming folders into his briefcase. With all the time he'd spent excavating his newspaper and scouring the kitchen for a few java beans he was already behind schedule.
Where are the keys!? Where are the blasted- Oh, there they are.
Aiden finally made it to his car, only slightly the worse for wear, and buckled up. He turned the key. He was rewarded with a sickeningly dead grinding noise. Aiden looked at the dash.
Headlamps: On
Aiden cursed the universe creatively in several languages... ~
~From Renee's world. (Her mama never said there'd be days like this...)