Friends, this week marks the 100th edition of YeahWrite, a truly amazing collection of bloggers and writers-and most importantly, a whole community of people I regard as friends. I’m linking up with them for the first time in months.
This week also marks the one year anniversary of this here blog, and hot damn, but I can’t thank you all enough for your support, encouragement, kind words, and even the editorial suggestions you send my way! Where I am in life, as a person and as a writer, is so much better than it was a year ago. So, thank you, thank you.
February, 2013. Walt Disney World. Your humble narrator is finishing his second and final day at the parks with his intrepid and fairy-crazy daughter by taking a ride on Thunder Mountain.
Thunder Mountain, as you may be aware, is “The Wildest Ride in the Wilderness!” Led around a badlands landscape by the voice of an old coot (“Gold! Thar’s gold in them thar hills” should be his refrain) the pair made full use of the front-of-line guest assistance card the daughter earned through a difficult medical life. Signs posted of dire consequences for those with high blood pressure (check), back problems (check), pregnancy (totally NOT check), loose morals (double check), and the like.
It also warned the riders to secure all belongings and eyewear.
Friends, your intrepid narrator did what he had been doing throughout his rides on the park: he ignored the warning signs (one might suggest he has the habit of doing so in his dating life, but who asked “one” anyway? Jerk.). Tower of Terror? Psh. It could not dislodge the glasses from his face or the pack from his hand. Mission to Mars? He laughed at its G-forces. Teacups? Ok, the Teacups gave him some angina, but whatevs. He survived, with all of his possessions intact.
When he looked at the face of his young companion as they spanned the back seat of the roller coaster, her grin made the hundreds of dollars spent and hundreds of miles driven immaterial. He reveled in the joy on her face, and felt it spread to his own. His wide grid changed the shape of his face, altering in minute ways the wind pattern coursing over the mountains of his visage.
Where the wind had once flowed harmlessly over the front of his glasses, it now insistently tugged at a low corner, and a tragic series of events unfolded-culminating in the glasses being ripped from his face, clattering on the tracks below, and being pulverized by the next coaster car to pass.
His grin turned to horror, and her grin turned to a Gaussian blur as his ability to see disappeared into the Floridian sky.