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9/23/1999 Thursday Reading: Ender's Game, which I finished today. I really liked the character of Ender, a child prodigy and reluctant general who saves humanity from alien invasion at the age of 14. The only thing I disliked about it was the ending, which seemed a little contrived. I'm going to have to read the sequels, Speaker for the Dead and Xenocide, now.
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FallingWalking through the bedroom this afternoon, I narrowly avoided falling over an open carpetbag full of Tab's stuff. Although I cleared the obstacle without stumbling, in my mind's eyes I saw myself tripping on the bag's handle, falling, and knocking my chin on the bureau as I fell. It was such a convincing vision, I could almost feel the pain on my chin. This sort of thing happens to me all the time. Running downstairs, I'll imagine myself missing a step and tumbling down the stairway. Stepping off a curb, I'll see myself twist my ankle and fall in a heap in the street. Now, I've always been something of a klutz. My father used to refer to me, sarcastically, as "Grace," whenever I performed some spectacularly awkward move. "Nice goin', Grace," he'd say, as I'd pick myself up off the floor. Still, I've become more careful, if not more graceful, in the intervening years, and I rarely trip over my own feet (though I do walk into furniture all the time). So why do I imagine these frightful falls? Personally, I subscribe to the parallel universe theory. You know how Star Trek characters are always running into their doppelgangers from an alternate universe? If there really is a parallel universe, perhaps my alter ego there is even klutzier than I am, and I'm somehow sensing her falls. Or not. I thought I was alone in my derangement until I talked to one of my sisters in Maine, who said she has the same kind of visions. Maybe it's genetic. It's become even worse now that I have kids. Now instead of just seeing myself falling, I see them falling down the steps or off the monkey bars, their little bodies hurtling toward earth. Of course, half of the time, they really are falling. I've lost count of the number of tumbles down the stairs and playground accidents we've had. But after a few minutes of crying in my arms, the fallen one is up and running around again, leaving me to my falling visions.
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