I have a terrible time trying to sleep. I just can't put my head down and sleep. I toss and turn. I'm too hot then too cold. The bed is too hard and the pillows too soft. The next night the bed is too soft and the pillows too hard. What's up with this.
I've tried pills of all kinds. Even have a drink or two. Nothing seems to work. Nothing at all... until I started making up stories in my head. This is the very thing that works. I make up some great stories too. However, it works so well I never make it to chapter two!
Well I thought the stories are so good, I thought I would blog them. I hope that you will enjoy them as well as I do. Even thought the stories help me fall asleep, they are anything but boring.
A Witch's Sneeze
Chapter One
The sneeze echoed off the walls and bounced back with the force of a small bomb. Atlanta moaned and let her head fall loosely on the pillows. She was ready to die, now. How sick could a person get? She sneezed again, this time something did explode. As she watched, a china figurine on the top shelve launched itself up with such force that, not only did it shattered, raining small particles of porcelain, it made a nice little hole in the ceiling.
Atlanta moaned, "Shit."
She was so sick, she couldn't even really get work up over the mess. Besides, it wasn't the first time this had happened since she had come down with the flu three days ago. Atlanta Birmingham had been blessed to be born the seventh child of a seventh child of... well you get the picture, going back seven generations. At twenty-two she was still exploring her gifted powers and blowing things up when sick was just one the perks.
She sneezed again and waited. A stuffed teddy bear sitting on rocking chair in the corner, shot across the room into the open closet. She shook her head and reached for a new box of tissue that was on her nightstand. Knocking the empty box onto the floor. Looking around on her bed for her noise spray she dumped used tissue onto the floor , moved various bottles of medicine, and pushed aside the opening box of crackers. Still not seeing the precious noise spray. She leaned over the side of the bed looking behind the humidifier, picking through more used tissue and even peering into her bunnie slippers. Nothing. Wherer was the damm noise spray! Pulling her self upright, she felt a sneeze coming. Grabing a pillow, she buried her face and let go with a muffled sneese. An explosion could be heard in the other part of the apartment. She lifted her head and thought maybe it was in the kitchen. Turning to put the pillow aside, she spotted her noise spray. "Hallalula", she sang hoarsely.
As she unscrewed the top she heard the front door open and slam shut.
"Hey, Al!" a male voice rang out.
Leaning sideways to see out her bedroom door and down the hall, she watched her twin brother, Augusta Mark walking towards her room. He was a tall, dark, good-looking man, with his curly, dark brown hair, that always needed a cut. His light brown, bedroom eyes, identical to hers, .
"Al, I need your help. I want to ge this boat I saw down at the bay. It's a beauty and only six thousand. So, I was thinking of two or three horse races with good odds." He rambled on not even looking from the race form in his hand. Stopping at the edge of her room, he leaned on the door frame and continued on.
"If you could see this boat you would just flip. I was out with Barbara, you remember her, she's the gal you met at that beach party last month..."
"Mark," Atlanta cut in.
"...Well, she knows about boats and she said..."
"Mark," She tried again to get his full attention.
"...It's a great deal,. So if I can get the money together it will be..."
"Augusta Mark! Will you use the gifts you were born with and look at me!" Atlanta shouted as loud as her sore throat would allow.
Mark finally focused on her instead of dreaming of boats and easy money on horse races.
"Good grief, Al, you look like you're sick"
She rolled her eyes and sneezed. The picture on the wall next to him jumped into the air, flew in a circle and dropped like a rock to the floor, smashed to pieces with glass flying across the carpet.
Mark jumped back out of harms way. He let loose with a long, low whistle.
" Oh man, are you sick" He came into the room to the end of the bed. Looking intenly are her.
"Your color is off." He said in a soft, low tone. " Kind of redish orange surrounded with a dark grey. He waved his hand in a circler motion. He hesitated.
"What" Atlanta asked?
"Well, kind of a dark grey."
Mark could read auras. He could tell you all about a person based solely on "colors" he was an expert and almost always right.
" I can just imagen" groused Atlanta, letting her head oncce agian fall back onto the pillows.
Mark looked around the room. taking in the scattered medicine bottles, old tissues on the bed and turning in a tight circle, saw all the broken shards of pottery and prociline on the shelves and carpet.
Atlanta or "AL" to friends and some family members, was the oldest by five minutes. Making her the official seventh child and Mark the eighth. Never in the families long history had a seventh child been a twin. So Mark was setting some new ground. He had several powers, but nothing that like Atlanta was gifted with.
ZZZZzzzzzz..Good night
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