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. 

Word: Sang-froid

sang-froid

[French sahn-frwa]  

noun

1. coolness of mind; calmness; composure:

They committed the robbery with complete sang-froid.

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Fred’s hands trembled and a cold sweat ran down his back.  His breath fogged up the clear plastic that shielded his face, making it much harder to see than was necessarily comfortable for him.  He did everything he could to keep his hands from shaking, but nothing worked.  His palms were sweaty, which made holding the wire cutters harder, which made him even more nervous, which made everything worse.

                “Just remember Evans, cut the red wire.”  Said Audrey, his superior officer.

                “But they’re all red.”  Fred said as he poured over the many wires.

                “I know.  It’s just a little joke.”

                “H-how can you joke at a time like this?”  Fred asked.

                How Audrey could be so calm was beyond him.  They were dealing with a live bomb, and she was acting like nothing was wrong. 

                “It was supposed to help you calm down.  Guess it didn’t work, did it?”

                “Not even a little.  I mean, how am I supposed to be calm with this thing around?”

                “Just remember your training and you’ll be fine.  This isn’t anything you haven’t seen before, and you know how to deal with it.”

                “It’s a bit different now.  There, if I did anything wrong, I just got a puff of smoke in my face and some harsh words.  If I mess up here, everyone in range will die.”

                “Well, to be fair, we’re pretty much the only people here, so the loss of life will be pretty minimal.”

                “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” 

                “Eh.  I guess not, but it was worth a try, I guess.  If it helps, just keep in mind what kind of bomb it is.  It’s not a time bomb, so it’s not like you have to worry about that.  As long as nothing sets off the pressure sensor, nothing will happen no matter how long it takes.”

                “Better, better.”  Fred said.  Knowing there was no hard time limit did help, if only a little.  “Not enough, but better.”

                “Good.”

                “How do you do it though?”  He asked.

                “Do what?”  Audrey replied.

                “Keep calm?  I mean, I know you’ve been doing this for awhile, but still.  How do you deal with the nerves?”

                “Easy.  I have something like a mantra I repeat.  It helps me.  I’m told it doesn’t work for everyone though.”

                “What, uh, what is it?”  Fred asked as he tentatively probed around the base of a wire, hoping it was the correct one.  He opted not to cut it, just in case.

                “Just another day at the office.”  Audrey said.  Fred heard her shuffling around behind him in her bulky Bomb Squad suit. 

                “What?”

                “I just repeat that to myself as much as it takes.  It helps me keep a cool head no matter what I’m doing.  Think about it.  If what you’re doing is normal, how can it make you nervous or scared?”

                Fred took a deep breath and tried repeating the sentence to himself.  As he looked at the explosive in front of him though, he discovered one thing:  He was one of those people that Audrey’s little charm did not work for.  In fact, all he could think of was how disarming bombs could never be anything other than abnormal.  All that did was make him even more terrified.  So much so that he found it nearly impossible to hold his tools.  And all that did was make everything he had learned during training fly right out of his head.

                “I-I don’t think I can do this.”  He said. 

                “Don’t think like that.”

                “N-no, I-I mean, I really can’t.  I know I should be able to, but I can’t.  I just can’t remember anything, and I’m terrified of what’ll happen, and.”

                Audrey sighed and pushed him lightly aside.

“Alright, fine.  I’ll take care of it this time.  But next time, you have to be able to deal with it.”  She said.  “Just make sure to pay close attention to what I’m about to do.”

“R-right, okay, yeah.  I can do that.” 

Audrey took one look at the bomb, got her tools ready, and got to work.  Her hands steadily probed the wires, and it only took her a few minutes to find all of the bomb’s weak spots.  With incredibly steady, controlled actions, she set about disarming it.  She was calm and composed, acting like what she was doing was nothing special at all.  Fred was amazed at how she managed to remain so steady through the process.

“And there we go, all done.”  She said. 

She stood and without any care for what might happen, removed the explosive charges, pressure sensor, and everything that went with it.  Fred felt a lump form in his throat, but Audrey didn’t seem to care.  She acted like she was holding a pile of old junk to be thrown out.  He could tell she was being careful, so as not to cause any problems, but she didn’t act like she was.

                It only took Audrey a few minutes to transport the bomb out of the building and into a safe container at the nearby police and bomb units.  It took her an equally short time to remove the bulky protective suit.  Fred followed suit, removing his own in a considerably longer amount of time. 

                “There, you see?”  She said once they were both in their normal uniforms, “A cool head lets you make short work of anything.”

                “Yeah, right.”  Fred said. 

                “It does take some practice, but I’m sure you’ll get it someday.  You just need to find something that calms you down.  My trick didn’t seem to work, so you’ll have to find your own.  And, uh, maybe spending more time in the practice room couldn’t hurt either.”

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I wonder how much Bomb Squads actually do go out and dispose of bombs.  I mean it's not like bomb scares happen every day, right?  

Also, I'm not sure I like the way I ended this one, but I also couldn't think of anything else.  What do you all think?

                 

Word: Derring-do

Definitions for derring-do

1. daring deeds; heroic daring.

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Oh god, it’s hot in here.  Why is it so hot?  I mean, yeah, fire is hot and all, but isn’t the suit supposed to make it, you know, not hot?  Well, less hot anyway.  I guess the inside of this thing is always hot, isn’t it?  I mean, couldn’t they have put a fan in here or something.  An ice pack maybe?  I guess it wouldn’t help much, but still.

                Oh god, what was that?  The building isn’t collapsing, is it?  I don’t want to be trapped in here.  This is only my first time, I can’t die yet.  I haven’t gotten to do anything cool yet.  Oh god, that beam’s about to fall, isn’t it?  No, no it’s staying up.  Please, god don’t let anything fall on me.

                Man this smoke is thick.  How am I supposed to find anyone in here?  And, you know, not fall to my fiery death from collapsed floorboard or something.  That’d be pretty bad to.  I can see the headlines now:  Rookie fireman falls to his doom in burning building.  Actually, that doesn’t sound too bad.  At least people will say I was trying to save someone, right? It’s probably better than getting pinned under a burning support beam while running out of the building, right? 

                Hm?  What was that?  Was that…yup, there is definitely someone in here.  Where are you…geeze I can’t see a thing other than fire in this smoke.  Ah, there!  Looks like…yup, a kid with a baby.  How in the world did she get here?  I mean, didn’t her parents do anything?  Ok, let’s not think about that for now.  Just worry about getting them out first, then worry about that stuff.

                “Hey!”  Did she hear me?  Okay, yeah, she heard me.  And now she’s running.  Why’s she running?  Oh, right.  Why’d they make these suits look so terrifying to kids?  “Wait, kid!  I’m a good guy!  I’m here to get you out of here!”  There we go, that did it.

                “R-really?”

                “Yup.  I’m a fire fighter.”  Wow, that was quick.  One second the kid’s terrified, the next it looks like she wants an autograph or something.  Now I just have to figure out how to get them out.  Should I just carry them?  No, that’d be a bad idea.  This gear’s already heavy enough as is.  Plus, the girl might know not to breathe in too much smoke, but the baby sure doesn’t.  Damn it, this would be so much easier if there was only one of them.  “Ok, I want you to take the baby and stick really close to me, ok?  Move as close to the ground as possible.”

                “Um, mister?”  Oh god, what now.  “I don’t think I can walk.”  Why can’t she…Ugh, that’s nasty.  What’d she do to twist her leg like that?  Welp, now I’ve gotta carry them out.  Here goes nothing.

                “Alright.  What I want you to do is wrap something around your mouth and nose and then d the same for the baby, ok?  That’s a good girl.  Now, up we go.”

                Oh god, why’s she so heavy?  What are her parent’s feeding this kid?  She doesn’t look like she’s this heavy.  Kids should not feel like sacks of bricks.  At least she’s holding on tight enough.  Oh god, what’s that?  That wasn’t there before.  Oh man, it’s the beam.  Well, I guess it’s good that it didn’t fall on me, right? 

                Okay, okay.  From here it doesn’t look so bad.  I should be able to climb over it, even without my arms. Hah!   Knew I could do it.  And it didn’t collapse or anything!  Now I just need everything to do the same thing.  Now, how’re the kids.  Looks like the girl’s ok.  The baby?  Man, I don’t know anything about babies, but it looks ok.  Wait, is it bad that it’s not crying?  I mean, shouldn’t it be screaming its head off?  The girl was bawling something fierce, so why isn’t the baby?  I’ll let the paramedics worry about that once I get them out.

                Man this building’s big.  Was it this big going in?  I could’ve sworn it was way shorter going in than out.  Ah!  There it is!  Finally, the exit!  I’m gonna make it!  As long as the door doesn’t collapse or anything.  Don’t think like that.  Just one last push and I’m out.

                Hah!  I did it!  I’m out!  And the kids?  The girl looks pretty bad out here, but she should be fine now that the meds are taking her.  And the baby too, right?  They’re saying it’ll be fine, and that’s good enough for me. 

                Oh, hey, look at that.  My first time out as a fireman and I’m already a hero.  How cool is that?

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I have the utmost respect for firepeople  I don't have any intention on becoming one, but I think those who do are great people.  I mean, really, it takes quite the amazing person to run into a burning building.