Ordinary

The concept of ‘ordinary’ puzzles me just as much as the idea of ‘normal’; there’s no such thing. What we consider ordinary differs from person to person.

For one, it might be ordinary to open up the fridge every day with many options at their fingertips. They might consider it ordinary to gorge themselves on any food they can get their hands on. For another, it might be ordinary to see nothing in the open fridge, the light not even turning on. For another, yet, it might be ordinary that they have choices upon choices in the fridge, but eat a little something in front of their family only to go to bed empty after purging the little food out of their stomach.

No. There is no such thing as normal.

via Daily Prompt: Ordinary

Atop

Atop the mountain, looking upon the great city laid out before me, I felt as though I was on top of the whole world.

It had taken quite the walk to get up to the top of this mountain, but it was all worth it for the view… I suppose. This view, or rather the feeling I got from the view, would leave me soon after I went back down. I would still have the memory of it, yes, but it would just be an unfeeling snapshot in time; I know of the exhilaration  I had felt in this moment, but I would not be able to reach it again only by seeing the picture in my mind’s eye.

That’s not the way that memories worked, or at least for me. I had memories, and I know how they felt in that moment, and they may bring that feeling back to me, but they are not the same thing. I could never experience this moment again, at least not in the same way. If I came back here again, it would be a nostalgic experience, but not the same as this first time.

Since I was so aware of my feeling of being on top of the world, I wanted to make it last as long as possible. But I knew that I could not stay up here forever; even if I did, the feeling would wear off due to the familiarity of the view, the fact that I had seen it every day and it had simply just become part of my world. At that point, it would lose all novelty and would have no meaning such as this anymore.

So, it was a lost cause to hope that I could ever feel this exact feeling again, either by coming back or by re-experiencing it through my memory. It was all I could do to just savor it for now, and leave as soon as the sun went down.

It would soon be over no matter what I did.

via Photo Challenge: Atop

Feather

She had been gifted a calligraphy set, and an interesting one at that. The pen was made out of a lightweight plastic, and shaped like a feather. It worked the same way that a feather pen would, by dipping it into the ink, then proceeding to write.

She really liked the gift. It looked awesome, first of all. But there were far more important causes to enjoy the instrument than such superficial reasons like how it looked; it had a meaning.

It was an interesting mix of old and new. The people who used such a pen couldn’t have dreamed of a day when we were surrounded with this material… plastic, as well as all of the other trappings of modern day life which most people take for granted. They could not have dreamed that one day, a man would walk on the moon, that there would come a day when such a wonderful thing as the internet would exist (they probably couldn’t fathom how it would work, but they would have to agree that the concept was really cool).

The words that were associated it were important, too; feather pens like this one (minus the plastic) had been used to write all of the important documents; the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Bill of Rights… all of them were in that beautiful, though hard to read, fancy, elegant, cursive.

That’s why she wanted to write with this pen- in mostly vain the hope that one day, she would be able to write something that was a fraction as important and far reaching as any one of those scripts.