Mrs. Phelps
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world...
Mrs. Phelps sniffled and rubbed the back of her hand under her nose. Naked shingles. Of all the- it was simply preposterous -unprecedented -it-it-it- made her head spin.
She needed to go back to her house, where her family waited for her next to a bottle of sleeping pills. Void of Pete, any children, and nasty firemen spouting out poisonous words instead of toxic flames. Yes, that's exactly what she needed to do.
Shakily, she pulled out the keys to her beetle. Poor Mildred. Her dear friend left alone with a delusional man and a book. Not alone, she corrected herself, she still had her family.
But what help would they been against Montag and his dangerous words...
Stop it! A whimper escaped her lips. That poem had left her shaken that was for sure, yet what part had gotten to her, she didn't know. All she knew was that it had left her feeling, feeling what? Not her usual empty, but a hollowed abandonness that carved away at her from the inside. It clawed and chipped away and filled her with more hopelessness. And she didn't like it.
"Silly words, silly words, silly awful hurting words," Mrs. Bowles murmured as she passed by Mrs. Phelps, seeming not to notice her.
Mrs. Phelps in turn, seemed oblivious to Mrs. Bowles, all her attention on unlocking her beetle, until the other woman spun back around, facing the house and cried out, "Silly words! Silly, silly, silly, silly!" Then to herself mumbled, "Silly awful hurting words," and climbed into her beetle and slammed the door.
Mrs. Phelps released a breath.
"I'm calling the fire department!"
She jumped, startled by Mrs. Bowles outburst, and dropped her keys. What good would it do to call the fire department, she mused as Mrs. Bowles sped off. If Montag was anything to go by, they'd be just as likely to spew rhymes as they would flames.
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light...
Stepping into her beetle, she felt despair. Despair and hopelessness. She had a name for what that wretched poem had made her feel but still no way to make it vanish. And that in turn only fed the hopelessness.
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain...
Why? Why couldn't she make the feelings go away? Tearing down the road with her foot heavy on the pedal, she raced to leave her emotions behind.
It wasn't working. She couldn't escape. She had never felt more confused, more trapped. Not in her first, second, or third marriage. Not with her family, chatting and sipping orange drinks in her sitting room. Not even while Montag stood in the doorway, reading aloud about those stupid naked shingles.
How desperately she wished to go back in time, to not show up at Mildred's, to simply sleep through the evening and possibly the next few days.
And we are here on a darkling plain...
Pete. He drifted into her mind like a leaf on the wind, provoking feelings of nothing. She did not miss him nor did she long for his comfort. Was it wrong? If so what else was wrong with her? Did that mean there was something wrong with her family?
How she hated all this worrying. Worrying was Pete's job. She pressed the gas pedal all the way to the floor. Pete. Her third husband. They had an agreement to be independent. If he were be killed off she was to move right along and marry again, forget about him and shed no tears. But she needn't worry.
More people died from suicide than war anyways.
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
She just wanted to feel nothing again.
Sunday, February 22, 2015
Sunday, February 8, 2015
MARK OF ATHENA
Mark of Athena has been sitting on my shelf for about a year and a half now.
I have been reading Rick Roldan since the fourth grade. He's been with me since my glasses days, so, in a way, I've grown up with him. Not just him, but Percy and Annabeth and all of the other demigods as well.
Off the top of my head I can tell you that Percy, albeit selfless, is impulsive. As unpredictable as the sea his father reigns over. He will disregard his safety in the blink of an eye yet risk war if it means protecting those he cares for. He uses his sarcasm and humor as a defense mechanism to avoid letting people in, therefore avoiding getting hurt. All of his years of fighting have hardened him, made him more cautious.
He is naturally stubborn, as well as a natural born leader, often butting heads with those of authority. He is a good person, but he needs someone levelheaded to point out more logical, often better ways, to obtain what he wants. He needs someone to balance out his impulsiveness and make him see reason.
That person, is Annabeth.
Their relationship is one developed over years of having one another's backs. Daughter of Athena, goddess of wisdom, Annabeth is an expert in Ancient Greek, a budding architect, and quite easily a genius. In fact, she is Einstein's half brother, but will never let herself forget her fatal flaw: pride. An incredibly skilled fighter, she is one of the youngest when she arrives at Camp Half-Blood, only eight. She is one of the best and brightest but sometimes, overcomplicates things. Fails to see the simple answer.
Like Percy, she too is guarded. Wary of letting others in after so many betrayals. She is wise beyond her years and she needs someone to remind her how to have fun and live.
This person is Percy.
I can say for sure, they are the first couple I ever shipped. They're perfect for one another, living proof that opposites do attract. I know there is a literary term for characters that are purposefully put in the story as opposites to highlight one another's differences, but I'm just gonna call this the work of the Fates. Fits better with the whole Ancient Greek theme.
My parents had a party this weekend and I was so bored that I sat down and read the whole book. In one night. All 574 pages.
Just like Rick Riordan's other books, the characters are locked in a race against time to unravel this prophecy:
WISDOM'S DAUGHTER WALKS ALONE
THE MARK OF ATHENA BURNS THROUGH ROME
TWINS SNUFF OUT THE ANGEL'S BREATH
WHO HOLDS THE KEY TO ENDLESS DEATH
GIANT'S BANE STANDS GOLD AND PALE
WON THROUGH PAIN FROM WOVEN JAIL
At the same time, dealing with this lovely foretelling:
SEVEN HALF-BLOODS SHALL ANSWE THE CALL.
TO STROM OF FIRE, THE WORLD MUST FALL.
AN OATH TO KEEP WITH A FINAL BREATH.
AND FOES BEAR ARMS TO THE DOORS OF DEATH.
Now I could go all analytical and decipher possible deeper meanings of Riordan in writing these prophecies, but that would take all the fun out of it. I love the Heroes of Olympus series and plan on blogging again when I finish the next book, The Blood of Olympus. Sounds pleasant doesn't it?
I have been reading Rick Roldan since the fourth grade. He's been with me since my glasses days, so, in a way, I've grown up with him. Not just him, but Percy and Annabeth and all of the other demigods as well.
Off the top of my head I can tell you that Percy, albeit selfless, is impulsive. As unpredictable as the sea his father reigns over. He will disregard his safety in the blink of an eye yet risk war if it means protecting those he cares for. He uses his sarcasm and humor as a defense mechanism to avoid letting people in, therefore avoiding getting hurt. All of his years of fighting have hardened him, made him more cautious.
He is naturally stubborn, as well as a natural born leader, often butting heads with those of authority. He is a good person, but he needs someone levelheaded to point out more logical, often better ways, to obtain what he wants. He needs someone to balance out his impulsiveness and make him see reason.
That person, is Annabeth.
Their relationship is one developed over years of having one another's backs. Daughter of Athena, goddess of wisdom, Annabeth is an expert in Ancient Greek, a budding architect, and quite easily a genius. In fact, she is Einstein's half brother, but will never let herself forget her fatal flaw: pride. An incredibly skilled fighter, she is one of the youngest when she arrives at Camp Half-Blood, only eight. She is one of the best and brightest but sometimes, overcomplicates things. Fails to see the simple answer.
Like Percy, she too is guarded. Wary of letting others in after so many betrayals. She is wise beyond her years and she needs someone to remind her how to have fun and live.
This person is Percy.
I can say for sure, they are the first couple I ever shipped. They're perfect for one another, living proof that opposites do attract. I know there is a literary term for characters that are purposefully put in the story as opposites to highlight one another's differences, but I'm just gonna call this the work of the Fates. Fits better with the whole Ancient Greek theme.
My parents had a party this weekend and I was so bored that I sat down and read the whole book. In one night. All 574 pages.
Just like Rick Riordan's other books, the characters are locked in a race against time to unravel this prophecy:
WISDOM'S DAUGHTER WALKS ALONE
THE MARK OF ATHENA BURNS THROUGH ROME
TWINS SNUFF OUT THE ANGEL'S BREATH
WHO HOLDS THE KEY TO ENDLESS DEATH
GIANT'S BANE STANDS GOLD AND PALE
WON THROUGH PAIN FROM WOVEN JAIL
At the same time, dealing with this lovely foretelling:
SEVEN HALF-BLOODS SHALL ANSWE THE CALL.
TO STROM OF FIRE, THE WORLD MUST FALL.
AN OATH TO KEEP WITH A FINAL BREATH.
AND FOES BEAR ARMS TO THE DOORS OF DEATH.
Now I could go all analytical and decipher possible deeper meanings of Riordan in writing these prophecies, but that would take all the fun out of it. I love the Heroes of Olympus series and plan on blogging again when I finish the next book, The Blood of Olympus. Sounds pleasant doesn't it?
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