Well Aimed Chaos (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whitemage) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2013-08-09 03:10 pm
whitemage) wrote in rainbowfic2013-08-09 03:10 pm
Fever Red #7, Surgical Steel #15, Bone #3
Name: Ardy
Piece/Story: Stages of Grief/Blood Saint
Color: Fever Red 7 (immune response); Surgical Steel 15 (resection); Bone 3 (active decay)
Style/Supplies: Pointillism; Graffiti (Fever Red, Surgical Steel, and Bone for Summer of Whump); Stain (Sometimes the appropriate response to reality is to go insane. -Philip K. Dick); Finger-painting (setting a scene in one sentence.)
Word Count: 240
Ratings/Warnings: PG - Discussion of serious illness; Warnings: Suicidal ideation
Notes: This was the longest I have ever spent revising a piece and it’s the shortest piece I’ve ever written.
Denial
Dr. Patel is sympathetic and sombre as I ask her for the 23rd time how it’s even possible for my immune system to attack my own blood.
Anger
If a splenectomy is such a priority procedure for me, why are we enduring 25 minutes and 43 seconds of the surgery center’s awful muzak waiting to schedule?
Bargaining
Over lunch, I say God owes me one: Luke buys me a chocolate malt and we call it even.
Depression
Appointment in 4 hours and 8 minutes and I’m writing an obituary for my spleen, who was preceded in death by hope and dreams, and survived by despondency.
Acc--More Denial
My advisor calls for our important phone meeting, and I pretend I have too much post-op haze to answer.
Irrational Rage
I fall asleep watching Fantastic Voyage and dream I took a Gatling gun to my leukocytes.
Major Negotiations
I tell Luke I want the Almighty to find Himself at fault for this trial: he sends me a bouquet of black-eyed susans.
Despair--Interrupted
I did not leap from the apartment building’s roof today because Ms. Gladys in 806 poked her head out the window and asked if I would help her repot a fern.
Surrender
This time, when I finish the email to my program chair, I hit ‘Send’ instead of “Delete.’
Acceptance
The upside of this bleak wasteland is that at least it’s unexplored, so I smile.
Piece/Story: Stages of Grief/Blood Saint
Color: Fever Red 7 (immune response); Surgical Steel 15 (resection); Bone 3 (active decay)
Style/Supplies: Pointillism; Graffiti (Fever Red, Surgical Steel, and Bone for Summer of Whump); Stain (Sometimes the appropriate response to reality is to go insane. -Philip K. Dick); Finger-painting (setting a scene in one sentence.)
Word Count: 240
Ratings/Warnings: PG - Discussion of serious illness; Warnings: Suicidal ideation
Notes: This was the longest I have ever spent revising a piece and it’s the shortest piece I’ve ever written.
Denial
Dr. Patel is sympathetic and sombre as I ask her for the 23rd time how it’s even possible for my immune system to attack my own blood.
Anger
If a splenectomy is such a priority procedure for me, why are we enduring 25 minutes and 43 seconds of the surgery center’s awful muzak waiting to schedule?
Bargaining
Over lunch, I say God owes me one: Luke buys me a chocolate malt and we call it even.
Depression
Appointment in 4 hours and 8 minutes and I’m writing an obituary for my spleen, who was preceded in death by hope and dreams, and survived by despondency.
Acc--More Denial
My advisor calls for our important phone meeting, and I pretend I have too much post-op haze to answer.
Irrational Rage
I fall asleep watching Fantastic Voyage and dream I took a Gatling gun to my leukocytes.
Major Negotiations
I tell Luke I want the Almighty to find Himself at fault for this trial: he sends me a bouquet of black-eyed susans.
Despair--Interrupted
I did not leap from the apartment building’s roof today because Ms. Gladys in 806 poked her head out the window and asked if I would help her repot a fern.
Surrender
This time, when I finish the email to my program chair, I hit ‘Send’ instead of “Delete.’
Acceptance
The upside of this bleak wasteland is that at least it’s unexplored, so I smile.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
I wanted everything to be clear, but didn't want to switch to 3rd person. Suddenly, each word became precious as I thirsted under the hot sun of minimalism.