In by Chris on June 26, 2011 at 1:38 pm
The museum curator noticed a sturdy box atop a row of filing cabinets in the Natural History section of the collection storage room. Unsure of why it was there, she pulled it down.
The front of the box was marked “JM1830.3” in thin pen. Odd, that didn’t fit into the museum’s careful cataloguing system. She carried it to the worktable and lifted off the lid.
The rousing, pungent smell of bone swept through her. Three human child skulls sat surrounded by brass buttons at the bottom of the box, their eye sockets gaping in consternation at the sudden light.
In by Chris on June 26, 2011 at 1:36 pm
Nostalgia has a bit more bitterness than sentimentality. Sentimentality relishes the pure recollection of good times, whereas nostalgia is tainted by a belief that everything would be better if the person could just go back to those good times.
Nostalgia is the act of recollection; sentimentality is the character trait of one who often engages in nostalgia.
Nostalgia is an unavoidable outside force; sentimentality is a choice.
[Oh no, I’m not that smart…]
They are the same; they just have etymological roots in different languages.
Sentimentality is nostalgia applied to the present.
Alas, back in college I knew the difference!
In by Michael on June 13, 2011 at 9:01 am
He lay awake in bed pretending it would last forever.
It’d been a rough few days, little sleep. A productive late night of work, but he knew he had to wake up early tomorrow to scratchy eyes, weak mind, and grouchy attitude. He felt fine now he’d spent all day fighting sleepiness, but the next morning he’d have to fight the same battle made tougher.
On the edge of falling asleep good tonight and waking bad tomorrow, he hung on to the moment. All he had left, until awakening to hell tomorrow, was the current lingering moment before drifting off.
In by Poncie on June 2, 2011 at 5:55 pm
She’s moving on to a postdoc position with her husband. She’s only four years older than I am.
Later that evening something struck me about being married, about finding true love. Beyond magic or fireworks or serendipitous encounters.
Only for the person you truly love are you willing to give up some of your dreams.
I could see her dreams becoming his, or his dreams becoming hers. It didn’t matter whose job it was; they were one unit graduating and creating a home.
I’d scoffed at people my age getting married. Now I hope they’ve found someone to share dreams.