Launch

T minus Three.
vague anticipation itches at the corners of my eyelashes, flutters around my heartbeat, tickles at the corners of my fingertips, urging me, egging me on in my frenzied search for the answers to the secrets of the universe, obscured by mundane second by second by second I take on the day like one who takes on a gust of wind particle by particle, irrational, yet practical, I duck in a ball on the ground and let the wind gloss over me like a tirade of tumbling sand it pricks my skin, unearthing the lurk that burns beneath...

T minus Two.
Vocab word number one: Dead - 1. Deprived of life. 2. Brain-dead; devoid of thought. 3. Incapable of being emotionally moved.  4. Numb.  5. Utterly tired or exhausted. 6. Without vitality or enthusiasm. 7. Extinguished.  8.  Not fruitful; unproductive. 9. State of students during finals week.

T minus One.
The dreams come only as nightmares.
However, upon waking, I soon realize that I would much rather continue to be chased by a dinosaur than live out today in reality.

T minus Zero.
The crest of the wave is frozen into a fractal of water droplets, splayed throughout the air in crystal partical patterns like glass in a photograph.  The eye of the hurricane tastes strangely bitter, each wall of worry intruding on my brief bliss with a shot of uncertainty, a taint of venom seeking its target with the force of a missile that never misses.  What was once relief is now locked in the eyes of the snake.  But in this moment, everything will align into the equation for motion, fueled by a combination of calories and catharsis, and the rocket launch will begin, throwing this week into motion. Until tomorrow, I remain bound in T minus Zero divided by infinity - undefined.