Word: Languid

 

languid

[lang-gwid] / ˈlæŋ gwɪd /

adjective

1. lacking in vigor or vitality; slack or slow.

   a languid manner.

2. lacking in spirit or interest; listless; indifferent.

3. drooping or flagging from weakness or fatigue; faint. 

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                    There was something wrong with the town. Mike saw it immediately when he entered the place, and it became even more obvious when he stopped at a small diner for lunch. He got out of his car and paused, taking in the oddities of the place. There was something wrong with the people.

                   As he watched, he could see that nobody was moving in any kind of hurry. Even the drivers were moving well below the speed limit. That was what had drawn his attention to the small town to begin with. Everyone moving well below the speed limit with no way to pass? It was ridiculous.

                   Mike entered the diner and saw plenty of places to sit, and it seemed like the kind of laid-back place that would not care if he just sat himself. So, he slid into a booth and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Clearly the wait staff were in no hurry to do anything. He saw several people in uniform, just taking their time and chatting with other customers. They knew he was there. Several of them locked eyes with him, but they made no move to even give him a menu.

                   After almost twenty minutes, one of the wait staff, an older woman who seemed pleasant enough, got him all set up. By that time, Mike was starting to get frustrated. He was not on a time limit, but he still had somewhere to be. A quick glance over the menu told him that the place served the standard diner fare. Nothing revolutionary, so ordering was easy.

                   There was something off though. The waitress was still there. She had not moved and was looking at him with a small smile. Occasionally, she would chime in and try and make small talk.

                   “You’re new in town, aren’t you?” She asked after he had placed his order.

                   “Uh, yeah. I’m just passing through.”

                   “Oh, that’s too bad.”

    Mike was starting to get the feeling he was becoming the center of attention. The people in the diner were speaking softer, like they were trying to listen to something while not acting like they were.

   “Why’s that?”

   “Well, everyone who’s just ‘passing though’ always seems like they’re in such a rush. That’s no way to live life, you man. You should slow down a bit. Stay in town for a bit.”

   “I’m sorry, but I have placed to be. I’ll just be eating my lunch and then heading out.”

   “You sure? There’s something to be said for slowing down sometimes, you know. You move too fast, you’ll tire yourself out.”

   Mike was definitely noticing more and more people glancing in his direction now. He felt his heart rate speed up. Maybe he should just leave. The waitress had not gone and placed his order yet, so he could. He would just get something from a gas station or fast-food joint. He pulled out his phone and checked the time.

   “Uh, listen, I hate to do this, but I think I’m on a bit more of a time crunch than I thought. You can forget about my order. I’m sure it’s very good, but I’m just—”

   “No need to be in a hurry.” The waitress said. She made no move to get out of the way, even when Mike tried to stand up. “Going too fast is no good. Sit, stay awhile.”

   Her hand came up in a slow, almost lazy way and settled on his shoulder. For some reason, Mike felt like all the energy was draining away. Not his physical energy though. It was more like all the interest and willpower to do anything other than sit back down had left him. A cold dread filled his mind, but he could not muster up the energy to do anything about it.

   “I promise you won’t regret it.”

                  

Word: Elated

 

elated

[ih-ley-tid] / ɪˈleɪ tɪd /

adjective

1. very happy or proud; jubilant; in high spirits.

   an elated winner of a contest.

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                   Benny could feel the tears forming. He wiped them away and continued clapping. He had no idea tears of joy were real things. He had always thought it was an expression, or something that only appeared in fiction. But now he knew what it was like.

                   He had watched his baby girl up on that stage. He had watched her give her valedictorian speech. His wife sat next to him with a huge smile on her face. His son sat next to him, clearly less interested, but at least trying to pay attention to his big sister.

                   Benny had no idea he could feel such pride. That was his daughter on the stage. His little girl giving the speech. And that was his kid getting her doctorate. All from a family that had never cared much about education. Benny himself had never even considered going to college. His wife was similarly only in possession of a high school education.

                   And yet, somehow, they had made a kid smart enough to not only become an honest to goodness doctor, but to do so at the very top of her class. How that had happened was anyone’s guess, but it had.  He had always wondered about the parents who gushed about their kid’s academic achievements. Now he knew he would be doing the exact same thing.

                   How could he not. Seeing how happy she was to be up on that stage. That light in her eyes when she got her diploma. All that hard work she had put in, knowing it was all worth it. And it really had. For all of them. Just knowing it was possible for a family like theirs was eye opening in many ways.

                   Benny had always thought that education was not needed. That in many ways it was a scam. You just needed enough to know how to read and do some basic math, and anything else was just silly. But seeing his daughter up there? Seeing her happiness, and feeling his own pride at her accomplishment, made him rethink that.

                   Maybe if he went and got a proper education, maybe he could be up there as well. Probably not as a valedictorian, but still. He was not sure if that was the right path for him though. He was too set in his ways by now. No, he would make do with his kids. His baby girl was just doing so well for herself, and likely would continue to do well, that he could rest easily even if he never stepped foot on a college campus.

                   His boy was more like him though. The kid had a lot of potential, and Benny could not say he was really squandering it by ending his education at high school. Rather, Benny’s son was aiming to be quite the skilled mechanic. And that too, was worthy of pride, just in a different way.

                   Benny watched as his daughter left the stage after receiving her applause for her graduation speech. Yes, his kids were going to go far, no matter their opinions on higher education. And for Benny, that was all anyone could ask for.

                  

    

Word: Slapdash

 

slapdash

[slap-dash] / ˈslæpˌdæʃ /

adverb

1. in a hasty, haphazard manner.

   He assembled the motor slapdash.

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                   “Wow. That looks terrible.”

                   Ben’s head slammed into the car he was working on. The car shook slightly, with some parts rattling in ways that Ben did not like. He rubbed his head at the point of impact and slid out from under the vehicle.

                   When he sat up, he saw his brother, Kyle, standing near the door to the garage with a wide grin on his face. Ben let out a low growl.

                   “Seriously? You come in here and that that’s what you tell me?”

                   “Sorry man, but you gotta admit it’s a pretty damn terrible car.”

                   Ben clenched and relaxed his fists. “Well maybe if I had more than a god-damned week to build it, I could’ve made it better.

                   “Hey, nobody said you had to do it on your own.”

                   Ben stood. He was covered with dirty and grease, but he did not care at that moment. Kyle was looking way too smug. Ben was tempted to wipe some of the grease on his dear brother’s shirt, but he held off. Barely.

                   “Oh no? Remind me again who said I could build a car in a week?”

                   To his credit, Kyle did look ashamed. Briefly. “I thought you could.”

                   “I can. I just can’t build a car that’s race worthy. Which was, you know, the entire point of having a custom car built.”

                    “And…will it be race worthy?”

                   Ben looked at his brother, and then at the haphazardly built car. The fiberglass that made up the outside was warped in several places. The front wheel axels were visibly out of alignment. The rear wheel assembly was held in place by duct tape. The windshield looked like it was going to pop out at any moment.

                   “You. Tell. Me.” Ben said through clenched teeth.

                   “So that’s a no?”

                   “That’s a no, and it’s also you’re an idiot for making me even try doing this. I mean, come on, what were you thinking?”

                   “I was thinking my little brother is a mechanical genius who could work miracles?”

                   Ben was not impressed by Kyle’s attempt at flattery. He knew what lay behind those words. He stood there and crossed his arms.

                   “Okay, fine. I thought I could make some serious cash on a long shot bet. Happy now?”

                   “No. I think you’re an even bigger idiot. Remember when I told you that ‘no, I can’t build a racing car in a week?’ Remember when I very clearly said that?”

                   “I thought you were being modest. You know, sell yourself short so that when you succeed you look like a miracle worker.”

                   “In what world do I ever do something like that? When was the last time you heard me even try something like that?”

                   Kyle did not answer. He avoided eye contact completely.

                   “Maybe if you had gotten me a team of people we could’ve done it. But by myself? There was no chance I’d make it. If you just want it to work, sure. I can do that. But you asked me to do the impossible, and now you’re surprised when I’m not going to make it.”

                   “Okay, okay. You’ve made your point. So what am I supposed to do? I put a lot of money on you succeeding.”

                   “Take your loss and move on. It’s what the rest of us do when we lose a bet. Now get out of here. I might not be able to get it fully race worthy, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave it in this state. It’ll work by the end of the week. Not well, but it will. What you do with that is up to you. I’m washing my hands of this whole thing once I’m done.”

                   Without waiting for Kyle to say anything else, Ben turned around and slid under the car. He had a lot of work to do and very little time to do it in.

                  

    

Word: Davenport

davenport 

[dav-uhn-pawrt, -pohrt] / ˈdæv ənˌpɔrt, -ˌpoʊrt /

noun

1. a large sofa, often one convertible into a bed.

2. Chiefly British. a small writing desk.

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                When the light died down, Vince gazed upon a space he had not seen in years. Well, years from his point of view anyway. To the rest of the world, it was mere minutes. The wonders of otherworld travel never ceased to amaze.

                “So this is your home.” Celia said. She looked around and her face furrowed. “It’s…it’s not what I expected.”

                “It’s okay, you can say it. It’s a tiny, rundown apartment in the worst part of the city. I know what it is.”

                “Well, when you spoke about the wonders of your world, I assumed even a small home would be…more than this.”

                Vince gave a half-hearted chuckle. He was glad she had chosen to come on the trip with him, he really was. He was also a bit disappointed that he would no longer amaze her with tales of wonderous technology. At least she would finally be able to try real pizza now.

                “Hopefully you’ll see some better parts tomorrow.”

                “Why tomorrow?”

                “Because today I have to get you clothes so that you don’t stand out too much.”

                Celia wore long robes and accessories that would look perfect in a ren faire, but not on a normal sidewalk. She would stand out too much and be on the internet in seconds. He did not want her first experience to be going viral.

                “I can’t wear this?” She asked, looking down at her own outfit.

                “Not the best idea. I’ll have to change as well, but I already have the clothes to go outside in and not attract attention.”

                “Ah, I see. Well, can you show me around this place first?”

                “Uh, sure. This is the living room. That’s the kitchen, and that’s the bathroom.” He said, pointing out the areas. The only one with a door between them was the bathroom.

                “What about a bedroom?”

                “Yeah, we’re in there now.”

                “Here? Where’s the bed?”

                Vince pointed at the couch. It was fairly large, but not in the best shape. Celia got as worried look on her face.

                “That’s…please tell me you don’t sleep on that.”

                “I do, but it’s not as bad as it looks. It’s not great, but still. Here, let me show you.”

                Vince removed the cushions from the couch, grabbed a small handle, and pulled. The couch unfurled into a small bed. Celia’s eyes opened wide with joy.

                “Oh! That’s quite the clever thing. I had no idea a bed could be built into a sofa like this. I’m sure the idea will go over wonderfully when we return.”

                Vince was not so sure. “Uh, before we start selling this idea, maybe you should try it first.”

                “Why? Is there something wrong?”

                Vince did not answer. Celia shrugged and got on the couch-bed. She lay down and immediately started tossing around.

                “Yeah.” Vince said. “That lump will never go away. It’s the support bar under the mattress, so it’s pretty much just there.”

                “How long did you sleep on this…monstrosity of a bed?”

                “A few years. Remember when we first met I had a lot of back problems? Well, this is why. It’s not actually supposed to be a primary bed. It’s meant for an emergency guest accommodation. But this apartment is too small for anything else, so it’s what I have to use.”

                Celia slid off the bed and went to Vince, wrapping her arms around him in a sympathetic embrace. “Oh, you poor dear. I had no idea you were suffering so much.”

                Vince returned the hug. It did not last long, but it was still nice.

                “Well, we only have to put up with it for a month before we go back. Let me tell you, I definitely won’t miss this part. Anyway, see that little white box in the kitchen? That’s called a mini-fridge. It keeps food cold. I should have some things in there. I’m going to go change and get you some things to wear. Then we can go over what we’ll be doing while we’re here.”

                She nodded. “Okay. Is there anything else I can do while you’re gone?”

                Vince reached into his inventory, glad the magical storage ability still worked, and pulled out his phone. He had not touched it since the battery died years ago, but now he had a way to recharge it. A quick search brought him to the power cord, and the device was still charging.”

                “It’ll be a little while, but you can use this while it’s charging. Now that we’re here, it’ll actually work.”

                He gave her the code to unlock it and a brief tutorial on how to work it. With that done, he changed from the high class fantasy clothes he had been wearing to the common, non-fantasy variety. Then he headed out to find a clothing store and think about what he would do for the next month.