The gangrel giant sat perched on the side of the mountain. He had short brown hair which appeared in tufts framing his black brooding eyes. He had a massive jaw that jutted out when he was thinking. He was young for his kind and slightly smaller than his forebearers. He was still a formidable creature standing nearly 100 feet tall. From his position, he blotted out the sun causing the towns below to be cast in shadows. He lived in solitude because he believed that the pen is mightier than the sword. He had a poetic heart with no desire to reign terror on the tiny humans who he envied. His avocation was writing long strings of poetry on the side of the mountain using chunks of graphite stone. He showed fortitude despite the peer pressure he faced to engage in the activities of his people. He was different than them, he could write eloquent Haikus and Sonnets. He could even quote Shakespear. “I am one who loved not wisely but too well,” he’d rebut at his friends when they made their appeals. Who were they to judge him? The best they could devise was, “fe-fi-fo-fum” he thought smugly.

Words of the day:

Fortitude: Strength of mind
Avocation: something a person does in addition to a principal occupation. Hobby.
Formidable: Inspiring fear or respect through being impressively powerful, large, or capable
Gangrel: a vagrant or a drifter. A tall, thin, long-limbed person.

Saying of the day:

The pen is mightier than the sword: This proverb suggests that written material like books or poetry has more influence than fighting or war. We may also understand from it that ideas (as often set down in writing) are more effective than violence.

Winter was quick off the mark this year. Cold gusts had begun to blow through causing the leaves outside to pucker and drop more quickly. Winter coats were dug up from the back of storage closets. She had a hankering for a white Christmas but messed up by wishing for it too soon. Great oaks from little acorns grow, she thought with trepidation about what kind of winter her wish would bestow. November was much too soon for snow. As she buttoned her long tan parka she thought about her other wishes that had come true in the past. One time she wished for it to rain to match her depressed mood and two days later the town lost all its crops due to flooding. Her family although aware of her gift never took it seriously. To them, her wishes were recondite and they did not understand them at all. For this reason, she kept them to herself. She zipped up her black suede boots, slid her backpack over her shoulder, and stepped out her front door, bracing against the barrage of winter air. The crunch of the dying fall sounded under her boots as she made her way to her car. Not all her wishes came true. She had never quite understood the science behind which were granted and which were not. She had learned to be very concise with her thinking, although like her wish for a white Christmas, sometimes she failed. It was hard to be disciplined all the time.

Words of the day:
Recondite – difficult or impossible for one of ordinary understanding or knowledge to comprehend. Deep.
Trepidation – A feeling of fear or agitation about something that may not actually happen.
Hanker – desire strongly or persistently
Mess up – to make a mistake

Saying of the day:
Great oaks from little acorns grow – sometimes small and modest things become large and impressive things over time.

Idiom of the day:
quick off the mark – quick to react to an event or opportunity

Men and women from the oppidan suburb that surrounds the great city forsake their circadian clocks.  They force themselves to be crepuscular creatures egressing from their slumber when the crow has not yet sung. They exit their homes to merge with strangers in mass transit for the city. They stand together nearly touching in silence almost as if searching for the mot juste. In actuality, each one merely inhabiting their body, their minds occupying the future or ruminating on the past. As dawn begins to break and they encroach upon the outer smog layer of Grand Central station, the energy, and noise within the car rises. They exit the rail into the underground station in groves. People begin to flow out on to the main street from the station’s escalator like water through a rhyton. They march through the city alive and with purpose. They complete their tasks in order to depart and do it all again tomorrow.

Words of the day:

Mot Juste – exact right wording or phrasing
Oppidan – of a town; urban
Egress – The action of going out of or leaving a place.
Crepuscular – like twilight; dim
Mass Transit – the system that is used for moving large numbers of people on buses, trains, etc.
Rhyton – a horn-shaped drinking vessel with a hole in the pointed end through which to drink