Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Always Wanted To Be a Superhero!
I always wanted to be a superhero...
Some necks are long, reaching up to the sky or beyond.
Some necks are short, almost non-existent peepers in a tort.
Some necks are made of rubber. Some are made of glass, sure to appease wine lovers.
"Those bottles would be better with rum in them!"
Yes, Jack. I'm trying to explain some news I just got. You see, my neck is a simple flesh and blood neck, albeit a neck with superior strength and skill. And my neck has been found to bend the strongest steel known to man... titanium... twice. I really am a superhero!!!
Look up in the sky. It's a black shredded sail. Look up in the rigging. "Barbossa, you really should do something about the size of your spyglass."
I set off to fill said bottles with rum. Captain Jack and Will Turner peer closer...
"Avast!" Jack's eye narrows as he takes in my humble form. He leans closer to Will. "I thought it was bigger."
"No. No," Will assures him. "It's quite normal."
Confident now, Jack moves in closer. He flips my handkerchief and sniffs my neck. His lip curls boldly and his brow cocks quizzically. "It's not even as big as an NFL football player's. Normal, you say?"
"I have it on good authority, she has used it wisely, or unwisely, as it were," Will says.
Jack fingers his flouncy cuffs, pockets the spyglass, looks me up and down, and then turns back to Will. "You think it's safe? They say she's got two screws loose."
"Broken actually. I've seen two sets of xrays to prove it."
"Broken you say?" Jack leans back and studies my neck. "So you've got two broken screws in your neck, mate, and your head hasn't fallen off?"
Finally feeling visible, I roll my eyes. "That's what they tell me."
Jack turns to Will. "How is it even possible to get two wooden screws in your neck? Were you involved in a ship wreck? Did you get caught in a broadside?"
"Nothing like that, Jack. A doctor put them there."
"The sawbones? Hogs and swallows! On purpose?"
"I may have been ferrying the dead for the past ten years, but I even I know that's how they do things these days, Jack. And they're not wooden," Will reminds him. "Titanium."
"Titanium," I say.
Jack leans close and sniffs my neck once again. He nods, then recoils. "It must be a result of the black spot. Boot Strap would know. Go ask him," he orders Will. "Savvy?"
"This isn't a byproduct of the black spot. For some unknown reason two titanium screws broke in my neck."
Jack's brows furrow together. "And without any rum?"
Thanks to Jack and Will, I'm having fun with this terrible news. Looks like I have another surgery in store. But when? With a book deadline in sight (Yay!!! I'm happy to say so!), my children home for Christmas, a new grandbaby on the way and more books to write, I'm not eager to set a date.
News that I'm a superhero has really put a kink in my plans. When have you gotten bad news that totally screwed (pardon the pun) your schedule?
DUKE BY DAY, ROGUE BY NIGHT 10/29 Crimson Romance