Rossotron.com

My girls grow quickly.
With long office days, I’ve lost
more than just an hour.

Yes, I’m cursing Daylight Saving Time this morning just like thousands of others across the country, but as my haiku this week indicates, there’s another place where I’ve lost even more time than our government-mandated clock-changing activity can suck away from me.

The last couple of weeks (and the next couple) have been pretty crazy, work-wise. I’m working lots of extra overtime to get some things completed by deadline for my latest project, which has severely cut into the time I’ve been able to spend with my family. Absence may make the heart grow fonder, but it also gives you a big old case of the blues. I’m hoping things settle down soon and I’m able to get back to my normal schedule, so I can play with the girls in the evenings rather than get home just in time to help put them to bed.  (I’m sure my wife wishes I’d get home earlier, too, so she’s not having to carry the entire parenting load for 15+ hours a day by herself.)

Whoa! Breaking radio silence for a drabble! Celebrate the end of a hiatus by penning your own 100 word story!  Link to it in the comments and/or on Twitter with the hashtag #fridaydrabble. Happy Drabbling!

He scribbled into the volume on his lap, ignoring the cacophony of traffic rushing past his bench toward the freeway.

A shadow loomed over him momentarily.

“Whazzat? A story?” The bum, rancid and bloated inside layers of ratty clothing, settled beside him.

The man ignored his questioner, his hand a blur.

“Hey! What are you, deaf?” The bum poked the man, streaking graphite across the clean page.

The man raised his head. He regarded his tormentor and flipped through the book, located the desired spot, and gently erased a line of text.

The man, alone once more, resumed his chronicle.

Oceans of java
The caffeine courses through me
Yet still I crave sleep

The streets seem smaller,
cozier, more familiar.
Happy to be home.

There’s something I really enjoy about returning from a trip overseas. With every step from baggage claim to my car, I shed worries and thoughts of work, my steps growing lighter and more energetic. I climb behind the wheel and on my drive home notice sights and street signs I normally take for granted. Everything clamors for my attention but nothing distracts me from the thoughts of finally returning home.

I pull into my driveway and cannot wait to get inside the house and wrap myself in a warm cocoon of familiarity, hugs, and loving words. Every time I return is better than the last. It almost makes me want to leave again just to get the feeling of returning home. Almost, but not quite. For now, I’ll just enjoy myself and spend my time with those I care about most in this world.

While you’re reading this
I’m flying to Trinidad.
Haiku in the air!

Time for another drabble already? Concoct your own 100 word story, and tag it with “friday drabble”.  Link to it in the comments and/or on Twitter with the hashtag #fridaydrabble. Happy Drabbling!

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Did you ever want to run away and live in a museum?

Not me! Although I enjoyed “From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler” as much as the next kid, the MoMA always seemed like an impractical choice for a stowaway.

No, I’d run away to THE MALL.

Picture it: Spend all night playing the arcade games, stuffing yourself silly in the food court, reading in the bookstores until your eyes crossed, and finally, crashing on a Serta mattress.

What do you mean “You’d get caught”?

Why do you think I took this job as a night watchman?