Christmastime

The Nativity by C.S. Lewis

Among the oxen (like an ox I’m slow)
I see a glory in the stable grow
Which, with the ox’s dullness might at length
Give me an ox’s strength.

Among the asses (stubborn I as they)
I see my Saviour where I looked for hay;
So may my beastlike folly learn at least
The patience of a beast.

Among the sheep (I like a sheep have strayed)
I watch the manger where my Lord is laid;
Oh that my baa-ing nature would win thence
Some wooly innocence!

Slow, stubborn, and the tendency to stray - so much of my personality is found in this circle of animals, but thankfully redemption of these traits is found within the manger that they are gathered around...

An experiment in limitations

Professor Marsh says that limitations inspire creativity. If there are no boundaries, then our Muse becomes overwhelmed by the possibilities. In the name of productive procrastination (what final projects?), this is a short story less than 100 words:

My eyes followed rows of heavy trees anchored in the steep hill below, then glanced at the stranger beside me. The cold wind teased his clothes: worn jeans, a frayed denim jacket, and fingerless gloves. Dangling below us, my new parabolic skis glistened condescendingly beside his ancient wooden ones.

“It’s good to be skiing again,” he remarked, flicking greasy hair over his shoulder.

“Again?” I casually inquired.

“Yeah, I was in prison for three years.”

“Oh…”

“Pushed a guy off a Ferris wheel.”

My arm curled tightly around the pole between us, and he laughed.

“Had you, didn’t I?”