Word: Evanescent

evanescent

[ ev-uh-nes-uh nt ]adjective

1. vanishing; fading away; fleeting.

2. tending to become imperceptible; scarcely perceptible.

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When Josh woke up, he felt different somehow. Lighter, like there was less of him. He checked himself in the mirror, but there was nothing wrong that he could see. He made a mental note to call the doctor after work.

                As he went through his morning routine, that feeling of something missing seemed to grow. It was a slow process. So slow it took him until he left his apartment to really take notice of the growing feeling of lightness. But it did not seem to have much effect on him, so he brushed it aside, figuring the doctor would know more.

                It was not until he got to the office that he really noticed what was happening to him. Everyone seemed to have one of two reactions to him: They either seemed to notice him much later than normal, or they would be momentarily confused, like they had to think about who he was for a moment.

                When he got to his little slice of the office, he sat paused by the cubicle next to his to ask the occupant if there was something weird going on. Josh had know the man, Greg, since before they had started working at this company, and was often the only reason the job was even slightly tolerable.

                “Hey, Greg, you getting any weird looks lately?” Josh asked.

                Greg looked up in surprise and looked at Josh quizzically for a moment. Josh knew what that look was. It was the look of someone trying to remember who another person was.

                “Hey…buddy…” Greg said. “Uh, no, I don’t think anyone’s been treating me differently. Why?”

                “No reason, I’ve just been getting weird looks lately. Hey, we still on for the game tonight?”

                “Game? Uh, I don’t know…”

                “Come on, you’ve been telling me about it all week. How this would be the big one, and the one to make the entire season.”

                “I mean, yeah, there is a pretty important game tonight, but I don’t remember talking to anyone about it.”

                “Seriously?” Josh thought about what was going on. Could people really be forgetting him? “Hey, Greg, what’s my name?”

                Greg opened his mouth and closed it. He thought long and hard about that question. “Sorry, but I don’t know. Didn’t we just meet? Hey, how do you know my name, anyway?”

                “You’ve got to be kidding. It’s me, Josh. We’ve been friends since college? Remember, you used to date my sister.”

                “I did? No, that can’t be right. None of the girls I dated in college had a brother that looks like you. I definitely would’ve remembered that.” He looked Josh up and down. “Hey, you feeling alright? You look kinda…off.”

                “Well, I mean, one of my best friends says he doesn’t remember me, so there’s that.”

                “No, no, that’s not it. I mean, you look, I don’t know, pale? And I swear I can see the wall through you. Well, kind of anyway.”

                Josh looked at his hand and his eyes grew wide. He could indeed just barely make out the outline of the floor through his hands. Was this because of the odd feeling of lightness that he had been feeling? He rushed into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. Whatever was happening to him was speeding up.

                He was getting less and less visible. Vanishing a little more every second. He scrambled and pulled out his phone. He typed out a message, hoping it would help someone remember he existed. It was all he had left.

                A few minutes later, an employee entered the room, and quickly saw a phone laying on the floor. It was recently used, and a single line of text was displayed, although what it meant, the man had no idea. It read:

I am Joshua Henry Adams, and I existed.

               *******************************************

Probably the worst thing that can happen to someone. To simply stop existing. I mean, even death is in some ways better, because someone will remember you. But to simply not be there and nobody remembers you? That's much worse.

Word: Clamber.

clamber

[ klam-ber, klam-er ]

verb (used with or without object)

1. to climb, using both feet and hands; climb with effort or difficulty.

noun

2. an act or instance of clambering.

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           Mike’s arms burned and his legs ached. His breathing came in ragged gasps and his face was covered with sweat. He had no idea how he was supposed to keep going, but he did. He reached up and grabbed another outcropping and forced his leg to move in a way he thought should be impossible in order to get a higher foothold. He forced his body another few feet closer to the top.

               Then he made the single greatest mistake a climber can make. He looked down. He felt his eye twitch. He had barely made it ten feet off the ground and he was already exhausted. Not only that, but his animal hindbrain kicked into full panic mode. His conscious mind knew he was perfectly safe. He was properly harnessed in a way that even if he fell, he would be lowered at a snail’s pace. And even should something happen, the floor was covered with soft matts that would keep him from getting seriously hurt. But that did not help his lesser mind. That part of him insisted he was a hundred feet off the ground and would die instantly if he fell. It then further insisted that since he was so tired, he would fall if he tried to go any higher.

               Then came the cheers and jeers of his so-called friends.

               “Come on Mike, get your fat ass up that wall!” Cried one of them.

               “You can do it! You’re almost there!” Another shouted.

               He glanced to one side and saw a girl who had to be in her late teens scramble like a monkey up a wall that was considerably harder than the one he was attempting. On the other side, he saw a man his age dangling off a wall with an overhang. And here he was, struggling to get up the easiest of beginner walls.

He once again asked himself why he had chosen this particular method to try getting in shape. It had to be the worst possible option. He could have just gone jogging or something. But no, he had to be bold and go wall climbing. He had thought that as long as he took it slow on a beginner wall, he would be able to do it. And now he was suffering for his arrogance. He was paying for it in humiliation and exhaustion.

It would be so easy to just let go. Just let himself be gently lowered to the ground. It would all be over and he could chose something better for his weight loss. Something that did not make every muscle in his body ache and his brain tell him he was going to die horribly. Something a little closer to the ground.

Then he turned back down to the people who were either cheering for him or heckling him. The people he had brought to bare witness to his success. He had told them he would climb this wall. He had damned near promised it. He had broken promises before, but never intentionally. He never set out to do that, it simply happened due to outside forces. And he would not let that trend end.

He took a deep gulp of air, filling his burning lungs. His hands trembled as he raised them towards the next handhold. And Mike continued to climb.

              ********************************

Yeah, maybe wall climbing isn't the best way to go about losing weight? I'm no doctor, but it seems like if you're just starting out, something a little easier might be better. I guess it also depends on how out of shape you are going in as well.

Word: Adamantine

adamantine

[ ad-uh-man-teen, -tin, -tahyn ]

adjective

1. utterly unyielding or firm in attitude or opinion.

2. too hard to cut, break, or pierce.

3. like a diamond in luster.

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               “Lord Melif, I have a report on the hero.”

               The large, imposing figure that was Lord Melif turned to look at the one who had spoken. It was a small creature, with wings that should not have been able to support it, and horns that were too large for its head. The Lord of Shadows knew this seemingly helpless, unwieldy creature was actually one of the most dangerous creatures in his army. This was Ven, the Imp Lord’s right hand. And if such an important figure was coming to speak with him, it must be important.

               “What is it Ven? Have you been subjecting the hero to constant danger as ordered?”

               “Yes, Milord, we have. He and his party are constantly being targeted for assault. Assassins at all hours, hired thugs, bandits, monsters. We have sent them all. Obviously, the hero’s party defeats them all.”

               “I see. He must be at his limit then. Such a life can fray even the strongest of minds. Soon he will crumble under the pressure and be easy to eliminate.”

               It was a strategy that had served him well against other heroes. On the surface, it may have seemed counterproductive, since heroes and their companions got stronger the more they fought. But a constant state of alertness and steady threats would wear them out mentally and spiritually. In such a state, it did not matter how powerful their bodies became.

               “Well, that’s the things, Milord, no, he isn’t.”

               “What?”

               “Some of his companions are having trouble, but the hero himself is perfectly fine. And he is able to rally his companions and undo everything the constant danger does to their psyches. I have never seen anyone so able to remain resolute under the kind of stress we are putting him under.”

               “How odd. Well, there are bound to be exceptions to every rule now and then. Reduce the number of attacks. No need to make them any more powerful than necessary, and perhaps the sudden lack of danger will make them paranoid. What about temptations?”

               “Yes, Milord. We’ve used all of them. Beautiful women, riches, powerful magic, land. Everything we could think of to tempt the hero away. He refused them all. Now, to be fair, I can understand some of them. The companions he travels with are all young women who rival most succubae in beauty. And they have already conquered enough dungeons to make them very wealthy and hold a number of potent magical items. But we offered far more than they could ever get on their own and made offers before they held such things. And yet, no matter how much we offered, or when we made the offers, they were always refused nearly instantly.”

               “How troublesome. This hero must have a will stronger than steel. Very well, we act to eliminate. We can no longer afford to simply dissuade this one as we have in the past. This one, we kill.”

               A vicious gleam came to the greater imp’s beady eyes. He had clearly been waiting for this moment.

               “Very well, Milord. I shall see it done immediately.”

               The imp flew off to see Lord Melif’s orders done. The Lord of Shadows sat in his throne and thought about this newest hero.

               “This one should be interesting. I hope he does not die too quickly. It might be nice to have a real challenge for once.”

           ***************************************

So, how long do you think it'll take for the hero to cut through everything and wind up utterly destroying this dark lord type figure? A month? Two? I'd say half a year tops.