Word: Tatterdemalion

tatterdemalion

[tat-er-di-meyl-yuh n, -mal-]

noun

1. a person in tattered clothing; a shabby person.

adjective

2. ragged; unkempt or dilapidated.

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“Excuse me, sir, can you help me please?  The girl asked.

                Evan wasn’t sure what to say.  The girl had simply walked up to him and asked for help.  She certainly looked like she needed it; that was for sure.  The girl looked to be in her mid teens, but her age wasn’t the most important thing about her.  The girl was a total mess.

                Evan couldn’t tell if her hair was brown because of natural color or because of all the dirt caked on it.  Her face looked like it would be fairly pretty, but there was so much dirt on it that it was hard to really tell.  The clothes she wore looked like they had once been nice, if unusual, but now they were horribly tattered and ragged. 

                “I’m sorry, what?”  Evan asked.

                “I need help.”  She said again.  “I don’t know where I am, I don’t have any money or anything.  I haven’t eaten in days; I don’t have any place to stay.  I don’t know what to do right now.”  She looked at him pleadingly as she spoke.  Evan sighed.  It was odd, but he couldn’t in good conscious leave her in such a state.

                “Alright, fine.  I’m not sure what to do about shelter and money, but I can at least get you something to eat.”  The girl’s face lit up when she heard that.

                “Thank you.  Thank you so much.”  She said.

                “Yeah, right.  Come on, let’s go.  I was just going to get lunch anyway.”

                Evan led the girl through the streets until they arrived at a small diner.  He just hoped nobody would ask any questions about the dirty, ragged teenage girl following him around.  Fortunately, nobody did.  The two of them got plenty of odd looks, but nobody bothered to actually say anything.

                “So, miss, what’s your name?”  Evan asked when they had sat down.

                “I’m sorry what?”  She asked.

                “You’re name?”

                “My name?  What’s that mean?” 

                Evan was quite surprised by that.  Did the girl have a name?  Did she have amnesia or something?  He was getting worried he had just done something he probably shouldn’t have.

                “You know, you’re name.  What people call you?”  He tried again.  The girl thought about it for a moment before responding.

                “You mean my designation?”

                “I, uh, I guess so?”

                “Why didn’t you just say so?  I’m A.J. 37.”  She said as the waitress brought the two of them menus.  “What about you?”  Evan just sat there for a moment while he processed what she had just said.

                “Uh, well, my name is Evan.”  He said tentatively.

                “Evan?  What kind of designation is that?”

                “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

                “Oh come on, you know.  Area A, Sector J, Number 37.  I don’t even know what to make of your designation.”

                “Okay, first of all, Evan is my name, not designation.  And I have no idea what you’re talking about with areas and sectors and stuff.”

                “Well, now you’re just talking nonsense.”  A.J. said.  She sounded quite sure of herself.  “I mean, I’ve never even heard of this name thing.  And no Areas?  No Sectors?  What kind of place is this that doesn’t even have those?”

                Evan wanted to say quite a few things to her.  He even considered whether she was joking or playing a game or something.  But she seemed so sincere about the whole thing.  He needed to get to the bottom of what was going on with her.

                “All right, let’s forget about all that stuff.  Why don’t you tell me how you got here and why you’re in the condition you’re in.”  He said.  He wanted to ask where she was from, but he figured he’d just get some answer about those areas and the like.

                “That’s kind of tricky.  I had just gotten home from my education block, when a really big, bright light filled the room.  Once it stopped, I found myself here.  I didn’t bring any money, so I couldn’t afford anything, and nobody was willing to help me.  I’ve been living outside in the dirt for days now.  I can’t even contact my parents or anything.”  She said sadly.

                “I…see.”  Evan said.  Her story would explain why she was so disheveled, but that was about it.  “Well, you’re obviously not where you were before.  Look, let’s just get some food.  It’ll probably be easier to think then.”

                A.J. nodded and picked up the menu without bothering to open it.  She looked at the cover curiously before looking up at Evan.  She seemed quite surprised that the menu opened to several other pages, and even more surprised when she saw the items printed there.

                “What is all this stuff?”  She asked.

                “Hm?”

                “I’ve never heard of any of these things, and I’ve never seen so many options.  What happened to the standard meal selections?  I was looking forward to a nice, warm blue plate.”

                “Man, the more I hear you talk the more…”  Evan stopped dead.  It was just like a movie involving some kind of parallel world.  A mysterious light, a completely different place with strange customs.  Everything fit.  But it was impossible.  That kind of stuff simply didn’t exist.  A.J. looked up at him curiously at his half finished sentence.  “Never mind, we’ll talk about it later.  Just get a hamburger or something.  We can go to my place after that.  I think I have some ideas.”

                “Okay, that sounds good.  Um, what’s a hamburger exactly?”  

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Ooo, weird stuff.  Fun!  Maybe I'll continue this some time down the line, maybe I won't.  I guess it kind of depends on what words I get in the near future.  Or if I decide to continue it in another venue.  That's less likely to happen, but hey, you never know. 

Word: Bibliomania

bibliomania

[bib-lee-oh-mey-nee-uh, -meyn-yuh]

noun

1. excessive fondness for acquiring and possessing books.

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Molly knocked on the door.  She looked around the hallway while she waited for a response.  The hall was well lit and clean, and the door was attractively done up as well.  The building was nice and in a good location with lots of things around to do.  All in all, this would make a fine place to live.  The only downside was the rent for this area was a bit steep, but the fact that she would have a roommate would help lessen the blow in that department.  Still expensive, but much more doable. 

                Some noises from the other side of the door soon caught her attention.  Shuffling feet running around what seemed like several different obstacles.  Molly could only wonder what was on the other side of the door.  She just hoped her prospective roommate wasn’t a complete slob. 

                The door opened just enough for the occupant to poke her head out.  A frizzy mane of red hair and large rectangular glasses greeted Molly.  The girl looked almost nervous about something.

                “H-hello?”  She asked.

                “Uh, yeah, hi.  I’m Molly Green.  We talked on the phone about the room?”

                “Um…Oh!  Oh yes, of course.  I remember now.  Hang on a second.  Um, just, you know, try and ignore the mess.”

                The door was shut and the sound of it being unlatched could be heard.  When it opened, Molly was immediately able to see what her host had meant by mess.  Even from outside the doorway, Molly could see large stacks of books laying around the entryway and living area of the apartment.  There were dozens, or even hundreds of them just in that fairly small area.  She had to wonder how many would be in the rest of the place.

                “Come in.  Just, you know, watch your step.”  Said the owner of the collection.

                “Yeah, right.”  Molly said as she entered the apartment.  “So, I never actually caught your name.”

                “Huh?  Oh, right.  I guess I forgot to put that on the flier, didn’t I?  I’m Liz.”

                “Cool.  So, uh, is there a couch or chairs, or should I make one?”  Molly asked, pointing at the many, many books.

                “Uh, right.  Um, follow me, there’s some spots set up.”  Liz replied. 

                Liz led Molly through the increasingly maze-like piles of books.  Molly had been right.  As many books were visible from the entrance, there were far more in the main part of the apartment.  She swore Liz had as many books as her high school library had.  She wondered if Liz actually read all of them, or just liked having them around.

                “Here we go.”  Liz said.  She was standing in front of a ring of three reading chairs.  Two of them were already occupied by more books, and Liz had begun to remove the piles from one of them.  “You can sit here once I clean it off a bit.”

                “Cool?  I guess?”  Molly wasn’t sure what else to say. 

                Once she finally had the chance to sit, the chair was moderately comfortable.  Not the best she had ever sat in, but not the worst either. 

                “So, um, I guess we should get started, right?” Liz asked.

                “Mm hm.”  Molly agreed.

                “So, tell me about yourself.” 

                The two of them talked about their various lives.  Liz would ask a question about Molly, and she would answer.  It was mainly things about her job, dietary practices, hobbies, music preferences and the like.  Molly was a bit surprised, really.  It sounded like Liz had gotten a list of questions to ask off some website or something.  Of course, it was also just as likely that she had gotten them out of a book or some such.

                “Okay, I think that’s everything.”  Liz said.  “Do you have any questions or anything?”

                “Yeah, do you, uh, do you read all these?”  Molly asked, waving her hand around the room.

                “Oh yes, of course.  Well, I try to anyway.  There’s so only so many hours in a day you know.”

                “Right.  So, how many books do you have in here anyway?”

                “Hm, let me think.”  Liz’s face scrunched up in thought.  “What day is it?”

                “Wednesday.”

                “Okay, what month?”

                “May?”  Molly was more than a little surprised Liz didn’t even know the month.  Day of the week was acceptable, but the month?  She just hoped Liz wouldn’t end up asking about the year as well.

                “I think it’s around 3,280.”

                “Whoa.  Seriously?”

                “Roughly.  It’s a very rough estimate, so I could be wrong.”

                “Dear lord, girl.  How do you keep track of them all?”

                “I have a system.  It’s not perfect, but it works for me.”

                “Uh huh.  You do know there’s such a thing as an E-reader, right?  You can get most of these books digitally.  You could get rid of most of them that way, and just keep the ones that aren’t online.”  Molly said, hoping to be helpful.

                “But if I did that, I wouldn’t have the books.”  Liz said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

                “It would make it easier to get around this place you know.”

                “But…but…books…”  Liz almost looked sad when she said it.  Molly figured another line of reasoning might work.

                “You’d be able to get a lot more books digitally though.” 

                “But I like having the actual book.  It’s just not the same when you’re reading it off a screen.  I’ve tried you know. It just doesn’t feel right.”

                “If you say so.”  Molly said skeptically.

                “You sound like you don’t like to read.”  Liz said.

                “It’s not that.  I read more than most others our age.  I just prefer to do in a more compact format is all.”  Molly replied.  She wished she had actually brought her E-reader with her, just to show how loaded the thing was. 

                “Seems kind of weird to me, looking at a book on a screen.  I mean, books are supposed to be on paper.”

                “Well, to each her own, I guess.”

                “I suppose.”  Liz looked like she was thinking hard about something. “So, um, about you moving in here; you seem nice enough, except for the whole e-book thing.  Um, if you want, you can stay here for a week and see?”

                “Uh, yeah.”  Molly wasn’t sure about whether she wanted the apartment anymore.  Of course, it was a nice place, even though it was overloaded with literature.  “I actually have a few other places I was going to check out before I commit to anything.  That’s fine, right?”

                “O-oh, yes.  Of course.  You’re the only one to respond to the ad, so you probably have time.  Just…just you know, let me know?  Um, if you wanted a full tour before you decide, we can do that now also.”

                Molly thought about it.  Liz just looked so earnest and nervous about the whole thing.  Even though the girl had an almost unhealthy attachment to books, she didn’t seem so bad.  She nodded and agreed to the tour.  The two of them stood to begin.  Molly just hoped she would be able to see anything other than books.

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I should probably read more.  I'm told to be a writer, reading a lot is a must, but I have other things I like to do.  Meh.  Maybe someday I'll start reading more.  Maybe.  

Word: Defenestrate

defenestrate

[dee-fen-uh-streyt] 

verb (used with object), defenestrated, defenestrating.

1. to throw (a person or thing) out of a window.

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Did…did he actually just do that?  Wow, he did, didn’t he.  I mean, yeah, he said he would, but I didn’t think he’d actually go through with it.  I mean, really, who throws someone out a window?  I mean, come on, how does that even happen?  Well, I guess in movies people get tossed out windows all the time, but I didn’t think it happened in real life.  Welp, nothing I can do about it now, I guess.  I suppose I should just be glad the window was open.  Although, I guess having it closed would’ve made it a lot harder to throw me through it, but still.  He looked strong enough to put me through the glass, and then I’d have glass cuts and stuff in addition to falling.  That would suck.  I mean, even more than it already does.

                So, what now?  I mean, aren’t I supposed to be seeing things?  Well, other than the ground and stuff.  I’ve heard of people’s lives flashing before their eyes at times like these, but I’m not seeing anything.  Although, I guess I am kind of regretting getting an office on the twenty-first floor.  That was kind of a bad choice in retrospect.  Oh well.  Hindsight is 20/20 and all that.  Still, no flashbacks kind of sucks.  I was hoping to have something to watch on my way down.  Just seeing the ground getting close isn’t nice.

                Oh god, the ground is getting closer, isn’t it?  Well, of course it is.  I mean, I’m falling.  What else would it do?  Okay, is there anything I can do?  Should I like, I don’t know, curl up and try and roll?  It works in video games.  Then again, in video games people can shoot fire balls and lasers, so that’s probably not the best thing to base survival strategies on.  Maybe try and fall feet first?  My legs’ll break for sure, but it’s better than everything breaking, right?  Although, given the fact that the ground is concrete and not water, that probably won’t help much. 

                Okay, universe, this would be a great time for me to spontaneously develop the ability to fly.  Yeah, that’d be great.  Wait, how would I know if it did happen?  Would I feel something?  Let’s try this out.  Ok, focus, focus.  Think happy thoughts.  Think of going up, not down.  Think of anything other than falling…

                Yeah, I’m not really sure why I expected that to work.  Kind of dumb, really.  I mean, if I was going to develop the ability to fly, why would it happen now?  Why not years ago?  Oh well.  It would’ve been real nice if I could fly.  And not just right now.  I mean, yeah, now would be really great, but just in general.  No need to wait for traffic.  No need to get gas.  Oh, so many neat things I could’ve done.  I probably wouldn’t have gotten thrown out a window, that’s for sure. 

                Ground’s getting closer.  Wow, this sucks.  I mean, I didn’t even get any good last words in.  That might just be the worst part.  I won’t be remembered for saying anything cool at the last moment.  No, I’ll just be the guy who got thrown out a window.  And I wasn’t even doing anything cool leading up to it either.  I was just talking to the guy.  I mean, come on.  If a guy gets thrown out a window, you expect him t at least be in a fight or something.  You know, kicking butt up until the moment your body hits the glass.  Or not in my case, but still.  Man, this is such a bad

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This is a fun word.  It really is.  I mean, just look at it.  It's great.  Plus, the very fact that it even exists is great.  I mean, come on, it's a single word that describes getting thrown out a window.  How great is that?  English is such a weird language, but it has its moments of awesome.  This is one of them. 

Word: Maudlin

maudlin

[mawd-lin]

adjective

1. tearfully or weakly emotional; foolishly sentimental:

a maudlin story of a little orphan and her lost dog.

2. foolishly or mawkishly sentimental because of drunkenness.

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Don fiddled with his pen instead of using it for notes.  It wasn’t as if he needed to actually write anything.  The professor would just post everything he needed from the class online anyway, and the rest was in the textbook.  It wasn’t like the professor would have anything new to add that he hadn’t already read, or would read at a later date.

                Suddenly, Don’s attention was drawn to the door bursting open.  Everyone in the room turned to see who it was that had caused the disturbance.  Don already knew who the panting, sweaty young man was.  His name was Kyle, and Don was almost ashamed to admit he was one of his friends.

                “Mr. Abrams, so nice of you to join us today.”  Said the professor.

                “Sorry, I’m really sorry.”  Kyle said between long gasps of air.  “I got here as fast as I could.”

                “I’m sure you did.”  The professor said dryly.  “And I’m sure you have a reason why you’re late as well.  But, since you’re here now, why not hand in today’s assignment?”

                “Sorry, but I don’t have it.”  Kyle said.  Kyle had a sad look in his eyes.  Don saw through it immediately.

                “Oh?  And why not?”

                “Well, it’s my dog, actually.”

                “Oh, don’t tell me your dog ate your homework.”

                “No.  No way.  He would never do something like that.”  Kyle adopted a serious, almost offended look as he spoke.  “It’s just that…”  He paused for dramatic effect.  “I had to take him to the vet yesterday.”

                “Yesterday?”

                “Yes, yesterday.  You see, I was in the middle of doing the assignment, when he came into my room.  He was limping like crazy, and I could tell by the look in his eyes that something was wrong.  Well, I dropped everything to take him to the vet.  I mean, he’s one of my oldest, most loyal friends.  What else could I do?”

                The entire class was looking right him.  They were eating up his story, and Kyle probably hadn’t even gotten to the really good part yet. 

                “When we got to the vet, well, it wasn’t good.”  Don’s throat got chocked up as he formed the words carefully.  The poor guy has cancer in his right front paw.” 

Don watched as a single tear rolled down Kyle’s cheek.  Several of the girls in class let out little “aww’s”  and other assorted sad sounds.  Don just rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh.

“I just couldn’t leave him.  One look at his face and that was it.  It was like he knew.  He knew that they’ll probably have to remove the leg.  If they don’t…if they don’t….I’m sorry, I just can’t say it.”  Kyle said, wiping away a tear as he talked.  “I had to be there for him.  You know, to comfort him and give him a familiar face to be around.  He won’t be able to run or anything anymore, you know?  He loved running around an playing and now…”

“Yes, yes, I see.”  The professor said, rubbing his forehead.  “I get it.  Just…just go and take a seat.”

“Thank you so much for understanding.  I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”  Kyle said. 

He walked through the aisles to an empty desk next to Don.  Several of the girls looked at him with sad an pitying gazes.  It didn’t take much to think of what Kyle would be doing later on.

“So, what were you really doing yesterday?”  Don whispered.

“Why, what ever o you mean?”  Don asked, feigning ignorance.  “I told you, I was with my poor, cancer ridden dog.”

“Uh huh.  You’ve never had a dog.  You hate dogs.”

“Now now, that’s not true.  I love some things about them.  For instance, I love the effect they have on the ladies.  Sad dog stories are the best ways to get into their hearts, you know.”   

“And their pants.”

“A happy coincidence, I assure you.  It’s not like it’s my fault that one leads to another.  I merely take advantage of it.”

“Yeah, right.  Is that what you were doing yesterday?  Taking advantage of some girl that bought one of your sappy stories?”

“I wouldn’t say I was taking advantage of her.  It was completely voluntary on both sides.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it was.  Just make sure she doesn’t have a boyfriend or anything.”

“I know, I know.  Now then, why don’t we continue this conversation elsewhere.  I think some people are starting to notice.”

“Yes, sir, you big dog loving softy you.”

“Shut up.”  Kyle said. 

Don tried to do his best to pay attention to the lesson, but the idea of Kyle’s imaginary cancer dog was just too funny.  He would probably not be doing much learning for the rest of the day.  

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I wonder if anyone would actually fall for something like this?  I'm sure some of the more gullible people would.  Too bad I'm not skilled at coming up with stories right off the top of my head like this.  At least, not if I have to say it out loud.  Writing is fine, but not speaking.