#climbing through tots window at 4 AM

[hawkzeyes]

Vic really gives his whole Quesussy into his mysterious aesthetic and I’ve got nothing but respect for it

[desiraypark]

When the Sun Sleeps in Canto Bight [11]

Previous Entire Series CHAPTER PLAYERS Ruby Girard Solo, The Beautiful Singer and Wife of Kylo Ren Kylo Ren aka Ben Solo, Leader of the Knights of Ren Sanya Solo, Kylo and Ruby’s Daughter (5) Ben “Little” Solo, Kylo and Ruby’s Son (4) Aida Solo, Kylo and Ruby’s Daughter (2) Threepio, Leia Organa-Solo’s butler The Organa Hotel Receptionist The Organa Hotel Bellhop Rose Tico, Manager of The Organa Hotel CHAPTER CONTENT Angst; Mommy Getaway/Mommy Getaway Blues; Daddy Kylo; surveillance implied

Sanya and Little walked on either side of their mother, as Kylo followed behind with Aida in his arms. Threepio stepped out of the town car.

“Hi, Threepio!” Sanya and Little shouted. They ran to him and he bent down to hug them. Ruby walked down the stairs with her bags--just two of them, and Threepio stood up and met Ruby.

“Mrs. Ruby,” Threepio said. He looked behind her. “Mr. Kylo.”

“Hey Threepio,” Kylo said.

Threepio grabbed Ruby’s bags and carried them to the car. Ruby bent down in front of Sanya and Little.

“I want you two to be good for Daddy, alright?” Ruby said.

“Can’t we come with you, Mommy?” Sanya asked with a pout.

Ruby shook her head. “I wish you could, Honey. But Mommy needs a little rest. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Ruby stood up and turned around. Kylo watched her walk toward him, and she stood on her tiptoes and kissed Aida on the cheek. Their youngest reached her hands out as if to ask for another kiss. Ruby giggled and kissed the tot on her cheek once more, then gave it a little pinch.

“See you in a few days, Angel,” she said.

“Blrrbbr, Mommy,” Aida babbled.

Ruby met Kylo’s eyes. The morning sun had lightened them, and she could almost see herself inside of them. Kylo’s Adam’s apple bobbed up, then fell back down. Ruby turned around and trekked down the walkway and to the car. Threepio held the back door open and she climbed in.

Suddenly, she heard cries on the other side of the window. She looked out and saw Sanya and Little at their father’s side, crying. He knelt beside them, trying to comfort them. Then, Aida burst into tears. Ruby quickly turned her head away and closed her eyes, stopping her own tears from falling.

Threepio drove off and took her to the Organa Hotel. ____________________

“Welcome to the Organa Hotel,” the receptionist said with a big smile.

“Good morning,” Ruby said, returning the smile.

“This is Ms. Organa-Solo’s daughter-in-law,” Threepio said, stopping at her desk with Ruby’s bags.

“Ah, hold on,” the receptionist said. She walked away from the desk and to an office. She knocked on the door, then opened it and talked inside. When she stepped back, a dark-haired woman dressed in a long blue dress with designs along the sleeves.

“Good morning,” she said, floating in front of the desk. She held her hand out to Ruby and Ruby shook it. “I’m Rose Tico and I’m the manager here at Organa Hotel.”

“Nice to meet you,” Ruby responded.

Rose waved the bellhop over. “Please take Mrs. Solo’s bags to the Penthouse Suite.”

“Leia insisted I give you the full tour,” Rose said. The bellhop took Ruby’s bags from Threepio. “Are those all your bags?”

“Yes. I’m only staying for the weekend,” Ruby answered with a smile.

“I’ll be off, Mrs. Solo. I’m set to return Monday morning,” Threepio said.

“Thank you, Threepio.”

Guests and employees alike smiled and waved at Rose, as if she were Leia Organa-Solo herself. And Rose returned their greetings--calling the employees by name and asking how their kids were. She gave Ruby a grand tour of the hotel - the spa, the gym and tennis court; the pool and sauna, and the lounge. It was a grand place. Then, the tour went to the penthouse suite - a room that seemed to be as big as the entire first floor of her home. A luxury lodging overlooking the city of Canto Bight. When Rose left her alone, she turned twirled around the room and flopped on the plush bed. She noticed a portable radio on her dresser and got up to turn it on. She flipped through the stations to land on the popular music frequency. Suddenly, she heard her own singing voice emanate from the speakers. Did someone ask to hear her? Or did Sheev pay for this play? Ruby sighed, turned the radio off, then plopped back down on the bed for a nap. 

Later, she grabbed some lunch from the lounge--nothing too filling or fancy, just shrimp cocktail and a salad. After lunch, she walked the grounds of the hotel--smelling the flowers and sitting under the gazebo. Then, she took a walk through the city. She let the sun kiss her skin, and enjoyed the sounds of heels touching the ground beneath her - heels other than her own and that of little children, for a change. ____________________

“Yeah, you just make sure nobody fucks with her, you know what I mean? Hang around for about an hour, then fuck off,” Kylo said into the phone. “Yeah. Especially tonight and tomorrow night. Nighttime is when ya really gotta look out...yeah. Alright, I gotta go.”

Kylo hung up the phone and rushed back into the kitchen. He stepped around his kids and rushed to the stove to check on dinner.

“Vroom, vroom, vrrrrroooom!” Sanya said, pushing a toy truck across the floor. Little put his toy down and reached for the truck.

“I wanna play with it now!” he whined. Sanya snatched the truck away.

“No!” she shouted.

Little reached for the toy and Sanya kept pulling it away. Then, Little let out a piercing scream.

Kylo grabbed the wooden fork from the ceramic utensil jar and banged it against the stovetop. “Hey!”

Sanya and Little froze. “You see your sister playin’ with it?!”

Little sat on his butt and folded his arms. “But I want to play with it now.”

Kylo looked up at the clock. “It’s not time for you to play with it yet. I’ll tell you when it’s time.”

Kylo looked over his shoulder just in time to see Aida throw her bowl of cereal on the floor.

“Shit,” he whispered as he rushed over, hoping to grab it. But little o-shapes scattered all over the floor.

“Uh oh!” Aida said.

“Yeah, uh oh,” Kylo said. He lifted the little one out of the high chair. “What’d ya have to go and do that for, huh?”

Aida threw her arms around Kylo’s neck. He laughed and planted a kiss on her cheek. 

“Hey, Little...Sanya? You wanna do something for your Pop?” he asked his two eldest children.

“Yeah!” they asked standing up.

“Can you clean this cereal up for me?” he asked. He walked to the stove, making sure to keep Aida away from it, then he stirred his sauce with a wooden spoon.

“Okay!” Sanya said. They rushed to the pantry. Sanya beat her brother to it, but he reached for the doorknob--as did she. Kylo looked over and rolled his eyes.

“Let Little open it, Sanya.”

Sanya stepped back and Little opened the pantry door. Before they could fight their way inside, Kylo’s booming voice filled the kitchen again.

“Little, you sweep, Sanya you scoop it up.”

“Okay…” they agreed in unison.

“And look. I don’t want no more fightin’ outta you two. One more argument and you ain’t gettin’ none of that cake,” he said.

“Ohhkaaay...” they answered with a whine.

The kids wobbled out of the pantry--Little dragging a broom that was twice his size and Sanya holding a piece of cardboard.

____________________

The sun slowly set on Canto Bight. Ruby stood in the window, sipping a cool glass of water and listening to a contest on the radio. She looked down at her watch and walked to the phone.

“Can you connect me to BROOK-2015, please?” she asked. “Thank you…”

Kylo was cutting Sanya and Little’s meatballs into smaller pieces. “Guess I should have thought about this before I made ‘em so big, huh?”

Sanya and Little giggled, and Aida giggled, too. Kylo looked down at the toddler on his lap and laughed. “What are you laughin’ at?” he asked.

Sanya and Little burst into laughter, and Aida did too. Kylo smiled and shook his head. Suddenly, the phone rang.

“Hold on,” he said. He held Aida in his arms and walked into the hallway to grab the phone.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“It’s me,” Ruby said. “I want to talk to my babies.”

Kylo leaned against the wall and smiled. “Ain’t I one of your babies?”

“No.”

Kylo scoffed. “Yes, I am.”

“Can I talk to my children please?”

“Yeah,” Kylo said. “After you talk to me.”

Ruby huffed.

“I miss you…” Kylo said. “And I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Ruby said. “But I just want to talk to my children.”

Kylo sighed and pulled the phone away from his mouth. “Hey, kids! Your mom wants to talk to you.”

Sanya and Little squealed and ran into the hallway. He held the phone to Sanya first.

“Hi, Mommy!” she squealed into the phone.

[sickficsbypyroyoshi]

Pyro’s archived fics #4: Tyler vs Norovirus

Again, the characters here are based on people I’ve known in real life. Additionally, parts of this story are true. The puke parts are all made up, but the field trip to the electrical convention, someone’s name tag being misprinted, Creeper Face, etc all actually happened.

At first, Tyler had simply assumed he was ravenously hungry, but now that he had food in front of him, he wasn’t so sure if he wanted it or not.

He’d woken up with a stomach ache and thought it was from hunger despite practically stuffing himself with food the night before. It wouldn’t be too surprising, as he did have a really fast metabolism. Since he didn’t have much time on this particular morning, he’d only had a piece of toast and a glass of orange juice for breakfast. It wasn’t satisfying and didn’t relieve the ache at all. In fact, it had only intensified by the time he got to school at 7 am.

Today was going to be a field trip day. He and all the other students in the electrical program were taking a trip to the Metropolitan Electrical Convention, and he had to be present at 9:00 am sharp in order to receive the points for it.

It was currently 7:38am, and he was sitting in the cafeteria area with three of his classmates, Devon, Zach and Sadie. The four of them would be carpooling together. Devon, an avid pot smoker, was a little short kid who had a different hat for every day of the week, while Zach was tall and lanky. He was a straight up redneck type who could go on for ages about hunting and at age twenty six, he was one of the older guys in the class. Sadie was the only girl in the class, and despite being the high maintenance hair and makeup must be perfect type, she was just as savvy with tools as her male classmates.

Tyler didn’t pay much attention to them. He stared at the sausage breakfast bowl in front of him. It was compiled of sausage, bacon, scrambled eggs and cheese on top of tater tots. Usually he wasted no time in devouring them, but something was off today. His abdominal pains had reached the point of being quite uncomfortable, but for some reason he had no real desire to eat despite being convinced he was hungry.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed that Zach was giving him a strange look.

“What’s the matter with you? Aren’t you going to eat that?”

“Uh, yeah. I was just zoning out.” Tyler responded. It was partly true.

He forced himself to eat the food in front of him. The first few bites had to be choked down, but eating did seem to help ease the pain a little, which made him relax a bit. He finished the whole thing and drank the large Pepsi he had bought to go along with it. Once he had demolished his food, he no longer felt agonizingly hungry, but really full. Little did he know all he was doing was temporarily diffusing the sickness that was building inside of him.

Once the four of them finished eating, they headed outside towards Sadie’s car. She was the most familiar with the city, so she would be driving.

After they all climbed into her car, they were on their way to the convention. It would be about a forty five minute drive.

Even though the drive wouldn’t be that long, the fear that he was sick was beginning to creep into the back of Tyler’s mind. He didn’t have a phobia of being sick, but he couldn’t evict the thought that he’d feel nauseous and throw up while at the convention. He usually got a stomach virus once every few years or so, and they all started the same: first he’d think he was incredibly hungry, then he’d feel overly stuffed and bloated, then the nausea would hit after that.

As much as he tried to tell himself that it was all in his head, he couldn’t ignore the rapidly growing stuffed feeling in his gut. The breakfast bowls were on the filling side, but they had never left him this heavy and bloated. He felt like he had eaten several of them.

Devon lit up a joint and took a long drag of it. “Any one want to hit this?”

“Give it here.” Zach swiped it and took two tokes before offering to pass.

Tyler held out his hand. Just because he didn’t feel that great didn’t mean he was going to turn down free weed. He took a drag and held the smoke in as he passed the joint to Sadie. She too took a hit.

“You think Creeper Face is going to be there?” she asked.

“I hope not. Besides, he’s gotten like six DUIs. How would he even get there?” Tyler responded.

“He’ll find a way. For him, getting another DUI must be like getting a trophy. He acts all pissed off but in some fucked up way he’s probably proud of it. I mean, I learned my lesson after two DUIs.” Zach noted.

For some odd reason, thinking about Creeper Face made Tyler really notice the expansive, heavy feeling in his stomach. He shifted around in his seat in an attempt to get more comfortable, but it wasn’t working. As the minutes ticked by, the fullness hadn’t dwindled even a little, which indicated that something definitely wasn’t right.

He refrained from mentioning it and looked out the window. His classmates were blathering about something, but he didn’t feel like saying much and just added a word here and there.

A sudden spike of mild nausea took him by surprise. It wasn’t strong enough for him to ask Sadie to stop the car, but it was enough for him to notice. When he took another drag from the joint, it receded a little, but wasn’t completely vanquished. He shut his eyes and tried ignore it for the remainder of the ride, but it didn’t work, mainly due to his classmate’s blathering.

“People need to stop licking Teddy Bridgewater’s asscrack. The dude has played ONE game and looks like he’s about twelve.” Zach rambled.

“He’s better than Christian Ponder! Ponder’s the reason why the Vikings have sucked so bad lately.” Devon countered.

“No, the Vikings have always sucked. They sucked in 1963, and they still suck now.” Sadie corrected.

Tyler didn’t give even a fraction of a crap. He was more of a Packers fan anyways.

He passed time by looking out the window and focusing on the skyline to try and take his mind off of the nagging nauseous feeling that was worming its way back.

He was feeling pretty sick by the time they arrived in the city, and his hope that it would pass had been shattered. Even the slightest bump in the road seemed to increase his nausea.

His companions were pretty baked at this point and failed to notice his predicament. Any trace of a high that Tyler had felt had been replaced by his rapidly growing queasiness.

Finally after several missed turns, circling blocks multiple times and a women can’t drive joke from Zach, Sadie located a parking garage with open spots. They parked on level F and had to walk several blocks to the convention center.

The air was rather frigid for early November, and it was actually cold enough to allow for an inch of snow had it been in the forecast.

Three members of the quartet whined about being cold, but Tyler felt hot in addition to feeling sick. By this point, he knew he was well and truly fucked. The signs of a stomach virus were all there: intense abdominal pain followed by bloating, nausea and heat waves, which suggested he would most likely end up down on his knees in the bathroom at some point in the day.

Still, he kept his thoughts to himself and remained silent as he followed his classmates to the convention center’s main doors.

The cavernous building was packed with people standing in large clusters, thus barricading paths and bringing a claustrophobic feel to the place. Tons of temporary directional signs were scattered around, and each one had at least five and sets of numbers arrows on it.

Tyler passed a bathroom and debated on wether or not to go inside. He thought about getting it over with and forcing himself to throw up, but if he did have norovirus or something similar, it wouldn’t help much, so he decided to forgo that idea.

He felt a bit sicker as he was herded towards a large conference room on the first floor. Before any of the students could actually browse the show booths, they had to sit through half an hour of guest speakers.

One of his instructors met the class outside of the room and handed out their name tags. Devon’s nametag had been misprinted as Devson. Normally Tyler would have found that amusing, but at the moment he was not in a laughing mood.

He was dreading this presentation and doubted that he’d make it through the whole thing. What if he puked during the presentation? Not only would everyone be able to see and hear it, there was always the risk that it would set off someone else and start a chain reaction puke a thon. He tried to push the thoughts out, but they stayed and tormented him.

And so he sat there in misery, not listening to a single word guest speaker number one was saying. The temperature in the room was sweltering, partly due to his sickness and partly due to the sheer number of people occupying it. He briefly removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair before putting it back on, but it did nothing to help cool him down.

Another nausea wave ripped through him, and he involuntarily emitted a soft moan. With the nausea came a hot sensation the started in his stomach and radiated outwards. At this point he knew he was definitely going to puke, it was just a matter of when. He hoped that it could wait, but it wasn’t too likely. Some people could fight off the nausea and banish it completely, but Tyler wasn’t one of those people.

He thought about all the things he had eaten in the last 24 hours that were currently residing in his small intestines. The sausage bowl, large Pepsi, toast and orange juice from this morning, the entire pepperoni pizza from last night, and the LeeAnn Chin bourbon chicken entree from yesterday afternoon, all of which he’d be seeing again soon. He could practically taste them.

Time had never seemed to pass so slowly. After what seemed like centuries, the second guest speaker stepped down and the final one took the stand.

Tyler gripped his abdomen as another intense peak of nausea washed over him. It reminded him of a pulsating DC sinewave, with a sharp peak followed by a much flatter receding line, with another sharp peak right after it, only in this case it was peaks of nausea instead of electricity. He wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer.

He must have looked quite sick, since his baked classmates finally noticed that he was struggling to hold his composure.

“Hey, are you okay? You don’t look so good,” Sadie commented.

Tyler shook his head. “No. I feel really sick.”

He wanted to get up and seek out a bathroom, but at the same time he didn’t want to bring attention to himself. Acid crept up his throat, and he was gripped by panic. He swallowed and tightly gripped the edge of his chair, trying his best not to puke on the floor. Unless he got up now, he wasn’t going to make it.

Thankfully, the final guest speaker ceased their speech and stepped down, signifying that everyone could leave the room.

Tyler felt dizzy as he stood up and once again choked back the chunks that were threatening to rise. He had to get out, but the people in front of him were taking their sweet time.

Somehow, he made it out of the room without exploding, but the panicky feeling returned when he realized that he didn’t have the faintest idea where the nearest bathrooms were. Time was up, so he’d have to settle for the next best thing. He spotted a large garbage can nearby and went for it.

He was about to be humiliated in public by puking in front of a bunch of strangers and it was going to suck, but it was his only option besides staying where he was and letting it all come out where he stood.

Right as he was about to lean over the garbage can, his path was intercepted by someone he didn’t want to see. Creeper Face stood there, and Tyler could tell he was going to say something douchy.

“So I almost got another DUI last night,” Creeper Face began.

“I don’t care, fuck off!” Tyler barely managed to get the words out as saliva dripped from his mouth.

“So I met these two hot chicks, right? They were underage, but I didn’t let that stop me, I got them both loaded. One just passed out, but the other one managed to lose both her bra and panties, if you know what I mean.”

Tyler retched.

“I fucked her senseless in every position. She wanted me so bad. And you know what? She was a virgin before she met me.” Creeper Face continued.

Tyler pictured his hideous, thirty something and extremely creepy classmate thrusting into some poor barely conscious girl who may or may not have consented, and the mental image pushed him over the edge.

He heaved and brought up a large mouthful of light brown puke which just barely made it into the can. He hovered over it and braced himself with his left hand while he put his right hand on his head to prevent his hat from falling off. The first mouthful was merely a precursor, and he knew that gastrointestinal violence was about to ensue. He was right. The second wave was more forceful and voluminous, and he could see it splash down all over the garbage in the bottom of the can. Since it was mainly composed of things he ate a mere two hours ago, it didn’t taste too bad.

People had taken notice of the scene by now and some were gawking, but Tyler did his best to ignore them. Thankfully most of the spectators had the manners to leave him alone as opposed to shoving an iphone in his face.

Right after expelling a third wave of liquified sausage and toast, he sensed his personal space being invaded.

Creeper Face had gotten too close for comfort and seemed to be watching him intently.

Tyler shuddered at this. He had heard of emetophilia, and while he wasn’t into it, if someone else got aroused upon seeing him puke, so be it. However, if that person was Creeper Face, that was more than a little disturbing.

His thoughts were interrupted as he retched noisily and continued to puke his guts out rather violently. The orange juice burned as it came up, and it nearly made his eyes water. It was followed by a torrent that was 50% Pepsi, which only made the burning sensation worse. His throat was on fire by this point, but another plentiful wave came up before he got a break.

Once he was sure it was over, he slumped onto a nearby bench. Creeper Face followed.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you like virgins?” he asked in a perverse manner.

Tyler just glared at him before putting his head in his hands. He didn’t have the energy to deal with that creepy asshole’s bullshit. He didn’t feel much better either, and it would probably only be a matter of time before round two would commence.

Despite that, he stayed at the convention for a little while in order to receive his points. He rejoined with his small group, bought himself a bottle of water to get the taste of barf out of his mouth and was relieved when Creeper Face was driven off after Zach and Devon threatened to kick his ass two on one for being a pervert.

Tyler absentmindedly browsed the booths. If he had felt better, he would have been more interested, so he briefly scanned them instead. Each booth had individual parts, a device, a motor, or even a full circuit on display. There were snacks as well as tons of parts and tools for sale, and many of the electricians present were named Mark, Bob or Dean. It was probably a mere coincidence, but Tyler thought that was a bit odd.

They stayed for another half hour or so before deciding to head out. Tyler didn’t object since he was beginning to feel crappy again. It wasn’t as bad as before, but he wanted to get home so he could lay down for a while. On his way out, he caught a glimpse of a peeved looking custodian cleaning out the garbage can he had puked in earlier.

His nausea level didn’t dramatically increase until they began the journey back to the school grounds. Not even five minutes into the drive, the rising and falling nausea peaks took him over again, and much faster than before.

“How are you feeling?” Sadie asked, as if reading his mind.

“Terrible.” Tyler admitted.

He didn’t have to throw up quite yet, but he could feel things sloshing around in his stomach. He shut his eyes and rested his head on the back of Sadie’s seat for several minutes. Just like earlier in the day, he could feel every bump in the road and the need to puke again increased every time Sadie did a jack rabbit start or sudden stop. After a while of this, he was awash with nausea and felt his throat expand. Instead of suffering like he did back at the convention, he decided to get it all over with and ask to be let out of the car.

“Can you stop? I feel really sick.” he asked desperately. He had a hard time forming the words and subconsciously knew he had waited too long to ask.

“I’m afraid not. We’re on the highway. Can you hold on a bit?” Sadie questioned.

“He could puke out the window,” Devon suggested.

“No way. That could be a safety hazard for the people behind us. He’s going to have to wait until I can get off the highway.” Sadie countered.

Tyler gagged and knew he was doomed as a copious amount of vomit surged up his throat. He put a hand to his mouth and tried to hold it back, but it was no use. It gushed through his fingers and rained down onto his shirt, pants and the seat, sending hundreds of thousands of norovirus particles in every direction.

“Oh shit! No way!” Zach, who was in the back with him, tried to move further away, but he had nowhere to go and was bombarded with the virus particles. He swallowed more than enough of them to make him sick.

Tyler forcefully threw up all over the back of Sadie’s seat, making an even bigger mess. He had no control over it, and it felt like he was bringing up everything he had eaten in the past year. It was starting to become painful. Yes, he had eaten a lot, but how much more could there be? Apparently quite a bit, as he leaned forward and continued to puke profusely all over the plastic car mats. A sizeable pool had formed on the floor at this point, and some had gotten on his shoes as well.

“No offense Tyler, but I can’t concentrate on driving with you puking demonic possession style in the back of my car.” Sadie said bluntly. She inhaled many norovirus particles, as did Devon.

In a matter of seconds, Sadie, Devon and Zach all consumed thousands of those malicious microbes, which only ensured that they’d be sharing Tyler’s fate within a day or so.

After Tyler was finished, he panted and tried to regain his composure. He didn’t know what to say, so he remained silent. He was unable to look his classmates in the eye and he was beginning to feel rather humiliated as he sat there covered in his own puke. It was starting to soak into his clothes. The silence that fell over the car was turning awkward, so he finally broke it.

“Uh..Sadie, on a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?” he asked cautiously.

“I’m not mad, but you’re paying for the interior car wash when I can find one.”

It took her twenty minutes to find a car wash that offered both exterior and interior washes, and by that time all four windows had been rolled way down despite the cold temperature.

The newly infected trio waited outside as the vehicle was taken inside to be thoroughly cleaned, and Tyler moseyed over to the adjacent gas station to get himself cleaned. He received more than a few stares as he maneuvered through the store isles.

When he slunk into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, he realized just how badly he had nailed himself. The puke was immediately noticeable, as the brown clashed with his green T shirt. There was no point trying to save it since it would likely be stained forever. He settled for wiping all the chunks off of himself, and that alone required using many sheets of thin, sub par paper towels.

After combating the damage, Tyler waited around for a couple minutes. He still felt sick and wanted to be rid of the offending virus. Despite the fact that he had thrown up quite copiously twice already, he still didn’t feel empty. There was definitely more to come.

He hovered over the toilet and waited for a while, purposely thinking about grotesque things such as pus filled abscesses exploding onto a naked Creeper Face, but to no avail. Nothing happened.

Several minutes later, he gave up and went back outside. His classmates were waiting, along with Sadie’s now sparkling clean car. They asked again if he was alright, he said no, and so they got a bag for him before getting back in the vehicle.

Tyler reached out for the door handle, but suddenly stopped and paused. His throat expanded and he dry heaved with no warning. Whatever was left inside him was coming up at an alarming speed.

He barely had time to turn away before he sent a waterfall of sour tasting liquid splashing all over the pavement. He dropped to his knees and puked violently onto the ground, the ensuing retching and splashing sounds rousing the attention of his classmates. There weren’t many solids left at this point since it was mostly made up of bile and water. Each heave was accompanied by a stab of gut twisting pain, which only made the experience worse.

“Damn, he’s really sick. Maybe we should get him some medicine or something.” Devon stated the obvious.

“Yeah, you aren’t going to die are you?” Zach inquired. “Because that would be tough to explain to the cops.”

“I just want it to stop,” Tyler moaned in between retches, only to be cut off as he expelled more opaque watery puke.

He had officially reached the stage of wanting to curl into a ball and call for his mom despite being nearly twenty two. Not only that, but all of his control was gone. Of the three times he had puked today, not even once had he made it to the bathroom on time. It made him feel like he was about five.

He gagged and painfully puked up a few small waves of stomach acid before he was finally finished. His entire abdomen hurt from throwing up so much, and there was a large part of him that wanted to lay down right there in the parking lot.

Slowly but surely, he felt a teensy bit better as the minutes went by. By no means did he feel good, he was more in between super crappy and really crappy, but at least it was a slight improvement.

Eventually he felt okay enough to get back in the car. Even though he had successfully eliminated a good number of the norovirus particles, he had a nagging suspicion that it wasn’t quite over yet.

[spraffin]

22/4/17 - 1/5/17

Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick - the one that makes me scream! she said.  

Drews and I made soup in the yellow kitchen in which I spent half my early childhood. Chopped onions while reminiscing about sunny days spent in the dark underneath a church high table, where we’d pull up our grubby socks and whisper secrets and spells and prayers. He diced the garlic while I danced, then told me about lost love and how he’d chased it to Poland and back. 

I know that his grandmother is called Jess, but when we were little, her smiling face was a presence I only knew as “Granny”. Not my Granny, but Granny all the same. Impossible that someone so quintessential in her role, a woman made of knitting patterns and toffees and crosswords, could possibly have any other name. She wandered into the kitchen as we cooked and smiled fondly up at Drews, chuckling at him as he grinned awkwardly. The soup was warm and rich, and my friend walked me almost all the way home. 

The one that makes me laugh, she said, and threw her arms around my neck.  

I shook and shuddered a lot that night, because I didn’t take my anxiety medication. I’ve been throwing up from anxiety lately, now and then. It feels so cathartic, like screaming - I’m becoming alarmingly comfortable kneeling before the toilet, like it’s the communion altar. My eyes water, I sweat a little, I bite my fingers, and I erupt. Afterwards I feel strangely serene. I’m floating.

The next morning, I weighed myself for the first time since leaving Granton. I am finally, incredibly, epically restored to a healthy weight, for the first time in nearly two years. I feel tall and strong, heavy and real. I headed to rehearsal that evening with all the confidence of a cathedral, high ceilings and golden arches. It was the hardest work I’ve done all term. I left completely invigorated and inspired, and of course, totally in love with my castmates. 

Show me how you do it and I promise you...  

“Will you help Charis with her art today?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

The sun was overbearing and gorgeous and hot when I walked through town to ring the doorbell of the Steeple. My mother welcomed me and I stormed through the photo-smattered corridors to find Charis. A cup of tea and ten minutes of enthusiastic discussion later, and I was sliding black plastic letters into a lightbox and hammering nails into a wall. We sprinted up and down spiral stairs, into the sports hall that used to be a chapel, stained glass window looming over a basketball hoop, and set up blacklights and three foot boards of pyrex. We washed a blackboard clean and I set to work writing all over it. After three hours, we finally stood still, necks craned to admire our work. A good day.

Spinning on that dizzy edge...

On Wednesday, I tripped my way to the rail station, half running with excitement, glancing over my shoulder to stare at the bridge in the hopes of catching the train in action. Spencer finally climbed into view up the stairs, grinning hugely and blocking the tide of harassed travelers passing through the ticket barrier by jumping into my arms. 

My home is the most charming place I know. It’s inordinately tall compared to its inhabitants, towering over us all like a caring uncle, probably balding and smoking a pipe, and wearing the same old flannel shirt he’s never seen without. Spencer fit as if a place had been carved specially for her, sloping up the stairs to Miriam’s room without a second glance at the yellowing wallpaper or the overflowing bookshelves. 

I kissed her face and kissed her head.  

Visions of my girl spinning in circles as she skips down the street, saying things more to herself than to me in a sing-song voice. She talked about the Tay and how she’d never seen anything so beautiful, and it’s the loveliest thing in the world, and why is it so nice Thalia? I guess God just made it so nice, Spencer. Why didn’t He make Rothwell so nice, Thalia? I don’t know. Let’s go and see Heather. 

She’s trance-like in her metal coffeehouse chair, hands drawn to her mouth which is open in a perfect “O” as she stares up, completely fixated by the huge ornamental clock that hangs, entirely incongruous with its drab surroundings, on a wall overlooking the shopping centre. When will it go again, Thalia? Fifteen minutes. Can we wait for it to go again? I need to see the cat again!

Visions of my girl drinking wine and making art, completely magnificent, making my chaotic, messy bedroom seem colourless and plain by comparison. She wakes me up at three a.m and asks me to come on a walk, goes alone when I fall back asleep. Makes lists of every dog she sees and tells me in great depth about things I’ve never heard of. Our plans fall through and she is inconsolable until the neighbour’s cat hops up to the garden fence. I buy her wine and jelly tots and we tell each other stories. She lets me chat avidly about my love for Josh and Rowan, about their smiles and the way the air around them is still and warm, when I come home to her after coffee with them, even though somebody else has just broken her heart. 

Visions of my girl, golden and pink and white and bronze, reaching for my hand, for a bottle, for a paintbrush, for words that are hiding on the tip of her tongue. She wakes up in my best friend’s house and we have breakfast together with Ziggy, leaving Fin to sleep in. She laughs in my arms and it is so good to feel her shake with joy, an avalanche that cascades upwards, an earthquake that builds instead of ravages. 

I dreamed of all the different ways I had to make her glow!  

Sometimes I am completely helpless, useless, ineffectual. Everyone is. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting, pain behind my eyes and the bridge of my nose like from the onions I chopped for the soup I made with Drews. A scream piling itself behind the roof of my mouth, just where my tongue can’t reach it. Rehearsal that week was bad. 

The music centre was hot like a greenhouse, the unsprung floor unyielding and unkind as the cast half-assed their way through a sequence of movement. I felt deflated and rubbish, the emotions of the last few days enveloping me. Our cast’s attitude stunk, and clouds pulled over the glass roof as if to show me just how much. The weather in our contempt. It’s not going to be good enough, the walls seemed to jeer. It’s never going to happen. 

Dad drove us up the Law and I groaned my frustration to the sky, stomped and shrieked a little. Hating myself for climbing to the top of the city just to throw a tantrum, I turned to show Spencer the landscape. She was completely awestruck. 

When we got home I had to fold. I was just too tired and my head beaten up, and I felt vulnerable and frustrated. I cried into my mother’s shoulder and let her comfort me, which in itself is truly a miraculous step in terms of recovery. Spencer took care of me all night and I woke up warmer. 

Why are you so far away? she said. Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you?

Sunday came, as it had to, and we bought prosecco and lambrini and tried not to cry. We lay in my room as if we were Clementine and Joel lying back on the frozen lake. We sang together, laughed most of the way into the night, cried a little, laughed more. In the morning Spencer slept fitfully in Miriam’s bed while I packed her bags, and then we made our way to the station. 

Why is it so nice, Thalia? I guess God just made it so nice. See you soon.

Soft and only, lost and lonely, strange as angels dancing in the deepest oceans.

@redhighlight