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Living with EpilepsyI have grand mal seizures, about one a year. My first one was at age 14, and it just came on with no warning. I had never had one before. I saw "floaters" come across my vision, except they didnt go away. They spread across my vision and then everything went black. For the 5 seconds I had to register that anything was happening, the only thing I could think was that I was dying. My sister, who was in the room with me, ran to get my mom and grandmother, who called 911. I awake about an hour or so later (so I was told) on the floor with a paramedic peering down at me. My grandmother told me that I had already been awake and walking around and talking. The first memory I have after that seizure was waking up to the paramedic looking at me. Nothing before that. I underwent a whole bunch of tests, and the doctors cant figure out what brings them on. The best they can guess is stress. Mercifully, my husband understands and knows what to do if one strikes. Hes already been through 4 with me.
The Miracle of ChristmasThe Miracle of Christmas
Jasmine hated Christmas. She didn't just dislike Christmas, she hated it like Scrooge hated it at the beginning of A Christmas Carol. Despised it. Abhorred it, and all those other words that are a synonym for hate. Ever since Aladdin had passed away in the war 3 years ago come Christmas...well, that was enough to ruin the entire season for her. She didnt think that she would ever feel the way about Christmas that she did when Aladdin was alive. To her, Aladdin had put the spirit into Christmas. Since he was gone, she felt nothing good was ever going to come of Christmas, or of celebrating it. The only thing that kept her going at Christmas was her son, her little blessing that was born shortly after Aladdin passed. Near Christmas, Jasmine would feel herself getting all upset inside. She refused to put up a Christmas tree, refused to even buy one. If someone wished her a "Merry Christmas", all she would reply would be "Bah Humbug." Just like Scrooge. Come to thi
One Spooky Halloween NightOne night Belle and Jasmine were walking home from a holiday party when Jasmine said "Let's take a shortcut through the graveyard! It will be easier through that way and we will make it home quicker."
Belle hesitated, cautious at first. Jasmine was the adventurous one, always jumping into things feet first, while Belle was the more reluctant one, tending to want to think things over and examine things from every perspective. But, knowing how much Jasmine wanted to get home, she agreed to the shortcut.
The two friends jumped the fence and started making their way through the spooky tombstones along a rocky, twisted path when Belle noticed that Jasmine was no longer there. It was a dark night, and to make it worse, it was Halloween. Growing up, the two women had always heard the spooky tales of witches and wizards, ghosts and goblins, even werewolves and vampires. Naturally, Belle was worried about Jasmine. She had no idea if the tales were true or not, but she sure didnt want to find ou
The FireShe ran, the flames building higher and higher behind her. She looked at the building that was once her home. An electrical outlet, the fireman had said. With a gasp, she realized her 6 month old son was still in there. Ignoring the fireman's cries to stay out of the building she ran to the entrance. She coughed as the thick black smoke entered her lungs. She entered the house, trying not to breathe. She dropped to a crawl, as the black, thick smoke threatened to consume her. It was so hot in there, she almost gave up and passed out. Just when she was about to pass out, she heard it, her son's terrified cries. She crawled to her son's bedroom. He was still in his crib, scared to death. It was a wonder and a miracle he hadn't inhaled any of that deadly smoke. She stood up and picked him up, and then dropped back to crawl on the floor. The worst was yet to come, for the fire had blocked her only way out. She was more afraid for her son's life than her own. All she could hear was her son'
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
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