Guess who’s back?
Prickly’s back!
Tell a friend.
If I posted this blog link on social media (FaceBook, Twitter or Instagram) then I must have survived the day it was predicted I would meet my end. So much for the accuracy of Halloween Hayride prophecies. Not that it didn’t make for an interesting day. One is a bit more careful when one is told they are going to die on a certain date. One is naturally a little more cautious.
In my case, I was weary of just about everything, and the most mundane objects or actions took on dangerous form. A flower vase suddenly looked like it might shatter and puncture some important vein. A few drops of rain during an afternoon swim had me certain that lightning would strike. Doing the smallest dance step to this song in the shower was accompanied by visions of me falling and smashing my head on the tile.
As the day wound to its close, and it looked like I might survive, I thought it might be nice to let the small world of casual acquaintances sweat it out a bit – hence the prickliness of this post. If you can choose to be prickly instead of soft, I’ll always choose prickly. Like the beautiful castor bean seed pods seen here, which finally popped in time for fall. They embody my bitter brand of sassiness right now, and I’ll never say sorry for that. Because you can’t be that mad at pretty. Or at life, especially when you’ve been given another shot at it.
I’m still alive… the boots have come and trampled on me and I’m still alive…
