I was up before sunrise on that Tuesday morning. The house was dark. A cup of instant coffee slowly turned inside the glowing microwave. I stared at my reflection in the window over the sink, when some nocturnal scavenger out in the backyard triggered a motion sensor. A security light snapped on, illuminating the ground. Where normally there was an arid patch of windswept, rocky dirt, there was now a clear pool of water.
This pool of water surprised me because I live in the desert, where such a thing is an anomaly. I wondered how it came to be, why the pool had not been there the day before but now it was. It hadn’t rained overnight. I hadn’t mistakenly left an outdoor spigot on. Nothing I could think of had changed, yet apparently everything had. Then I remembered that I’d seen this pool of water before.
It happened one afternoon about a year earlier — I opened the back door to find this same pool. Because it signaled some domestic malfunction, the pool brought to mind all the other problems — squealing brakes on the van, defective smoke alarms, the leaky toilet upstairs — that required my attention. As with those other problems, I was unprepared to deal with the pool of water, so I closed the door and pretended I didn’t see it. The sun beat down, meanwhile, returning the backyard to its normally parched condition, and for whatever reason, the water did not reappear until that morning.
I was actually relieved to discover it. You see, I was working on a story. More accurate, I was sitting at my desk, staring at my computer screen. The main character of my story was walking through the desert, and he’d come to a river. I didn’t know what happened next. So my character stayed right there, standing at the edge of the river, looking across to see where he might go and looking behind to see where he’d come from. I was stuck, the same way I was stuck the morning after Newtown, when I wanted to keep my kids home from school forever, or the day I learned that my Navy friend had hanged himself. I needed to find a way out.
By the time I entered the backyard with a shovel, the pool had evaporated. The shovel ricocheted off the stony earth, stinging my hands like a shanked fastball. I went to the hardware store and returned with a pickax. Because I’d never swung a pickax, I’d never seen, in my peripheral vision, my shadow looking like a prospector’s. That shadow made me feel a little insane, as if I expected to strike gold in my backyard. The pickax hit the ground with a satisfying thunk, tearing a deep hole in the earth. I continued to dig deeper, chopping roots and cracking stones under the spot where the pool had been. Eventually I uncovered a white PVC line that belonged to a long-lost sprinkler system. Brushing the dirt away with my hands, I found the PVC undamaged.
I followed that white PVC line farther into the yard, digging a trench about two feet deep and two feet wide along a curve that approached a row of dead Pyracantha. I found digging a trench to be repetitive and physically demanding work, similar to going on a long run, except where I might breathe through a cramp or troubled thoughts while running, here that same discomfort and confusion seemed to rise through my arms and into the pickax, which discharged as I drove it into the dirt. I didn’t realize how hungry, thirsty and exhausted I’d become until it started getting dark and I had to stop. That night I dreamed of digging the trench the way I dreamed of waves after being on the ocean all day. More feeling than vision, my dream rose and fell, hinged as it was to the pickax.
The next morning, I picked up where I left off, swinging with the same rise and fall, inhaling as I stretched skyward, exhaling as I drove the pickax into the ground. I’d dug holes before, to plant trees and post fences, and I’d chopped wood to heat the house in winter, but those jobs took place in one spot. Their focus was stationary, whereas the trench had a vector that carried me into the unknown.
Hours spent digging felt like days and days like weeks, though not because of boredom or drudgery. Time simply passed at a compressed rate. This relativity extended to my position — there in my tiny backyard, in the wider desert, atop the spinning planet. I’d step out of the trench feeling as though I’d traveled a great distance, only to drink from the hose attached to my house. Though I still feared for my kids and missed my Navy friend, I had to move on. Now I began to wonder if the river that my character had come to was not an obstacle after all but the point of the story itself.
Eventually I would hit a T joint in the sprinkler line. Digging one way would take me to a buried manifold with a shorted-out electric valve, while digging in the other direction would lead back toward the spot where the pool had appeared. There, in a parallel line, I would find a crack in the PVC, which must have been the pool’s source. But at no point while digging did I have to think about why I was digging. I didn’t even think about swinging the pickax. I simply stood in the trench, which felt cool at my ankles, and focused on where it ended. As that end broke open before me, so I showed myself the way.B:
彩票双色球100期开奖【第】【二】【日】，【白】【逢】【苏】【早】【早】【的】【起】【来】【准】【备】【去】【上】【早】【朝】，【谢】【聆】【迷】【迷】【糊】【糊】【的】【坐】【起】【来】【看】【着】【白】【逢】【苏】【自】【己】【穿】【上】【朝】【服】。 【当】【白】【逢】【苏】【用】【衣】【服】【将】【最】【后】【一】【点】【身】【上】【的】【肌】【肤】【遮】【了】【去】【时】，【谢】【聆】【黏】【黏】【糊】【糊】【的】【眼】【神】【终】【于】【转】【到】【了】【白】【逢】【苏】【带】【着】【笑】【意】【的】【脸】【上】。 【白】【逢】【苏】【拿】【着】【腰】【带】【向】【床】【这】【边】【走】【来】，【将】【手】【里】【的】【腰】【带】【放】【到】【了】【谢】【聆】【手】【里】，【他】【低】【头】，【目】【光】【热】【切】【的】【看】【着】【谢】【聆】，【轻】【声】【哄】
【竹】【羽】【进】【来】【收】【拾】【碗】【筷】【时】，【一】【个】【禁】【军】【护】【卫】【在】【门】【口】【禀】【报】： “【将】【军】，【襄】【亲】【王】【有】【请】。” 【我】【抬】【头】，【无】【奈】【的】【看】【了】【一】【眼】【麋】【鹿】。【襄】【亲】【王】【这】【个】【时】【候】【请】【我】【过】【去】，【断】【不】【是】【探】【讨】【案】【情】，【恐】【怕】【是】【想】【多】【与】【麋】【鹿】【接】【触】【接】【触】，【借】【机】【施】【恩】。 【麋】【鹿】【一】【脸】【无】【辜】，【好】【似】【什】【么】【都】【不】【懂】：“【怎】【么】【了】？【走】【啊】。” 【我】【深】【深】【的】【叹】【了】【口】【气】，【起】【身】：“【你】【现】【在】【是】【红】【人】，
【就】【在】**【月】【和】【南】【宫】【烟】【雨】【交】【谈】【之】【际】，【这】【三】【天】【一】【直】【闭】【目】【不】【动】【的】【叶】【无】【尘】，【身】【体】【一】【震】，【蓦】【然】【张】【开】【了】【眼】。 “【毒】【祖】【醒】【了】。” “【星】【空】【五】【毒】【教】【现】【任】【圣】【女】**【月】【拜】【见】【毒】【祖】。” **【月】【立】【刻】【跪】【拜】，【恭】【敬】【至】【极】【的】【开】【口】【道】。 “【哈】【哈】，【妙】，【妙】【不】【可】【言】。” “【这】【具】【肉】【身】【果】【真】【完】【美】。” “【不】【过】，【此】【子】【的】【神】【魂】【异】【常】【强】【大】，【竟】【是】【七】【环】
【见】【大】【田】【医】【生】【如】【此】【固】【执】，【唐】【居】【易】【只】【能】【是】【叹】【了】【口】【气】： “【好】【吧】【好】【吧】，【就】【像】【你】【说】【的】【那】【样】……【我】【会】【告】【诉】【你】【我】【在】【那】【条】【走】【廊】【中】【还】【看】【见】【了】【什】【么】，【但】【是】【能】【不】【能】【先】【把】【窗】【帘】【拉】【开】？【我】【想】【看】【看】【阳】【光】。” 【大】【田】【医】【生】【的】【脸】【色】【稍】【微】【缓】【和】【了】【一】【些】： “【阳】【光】？【现】【在】【可】【是】【晚】【上】，【哪】【来】【的】【阳】【光】？” 【唐】【居】【易】【摆】【了】【摆】【手】： “【无】【所】【谓】【了】，【我】【只】【是】【不】【想】彩票双色球100期开奖“【对】【了】，【等】【唐】【冷】【静】【之】【后】，【她】【能】【以】【灵】【体】【的】【方】【式】【离】【开】【你】【的】【肉】【身】，【只】【在】【这】【一】【层】【试】【炼】【中】。” ？？？ 【这】【是】【试】【炼】【吗】？【这】【是】【天】【堂】【吧】！【还】【能】【有】【这】【么】【好】【的】【事】？ 【还】【没】【等】【无】【忧】【从】【震】【惊】【中】【回】【过】【神】，【程】【序】【员】【就】【离】【开】【了】，【时】【间】【也】【随】【之】【开】【始】【恢】【复】【流】【动】。 【既】【然】【程】【序】【员】【都】【刻】【意】【这】【样】【说】【了】，【那】【无】【忧】【也】【能】【大】【着】【胆】【子】【将】【这】【一】【切】【好】【好】【解】【释】【清】【楚】，【所】【以】【她】
【随】【着】【联】【邦】【步】【步】【发】【展】，【从】【塞】【外】【和】【北】【地】【的】【地】【盘】，【发】【展】【到】【今】【天】【囊】【括】【雪】【域】、【大】【半】【中】【部】、【东】【境】【和】【半】【个】【西】【境】【的】【疆】【域】，【没】【有】【拿】【下】【波】【旁】【王】【国】，【未】【消】【灭】【草】【原】【蛮】【族】，【并】【非】【因】【为】【联】【邦】【的】【军】【事】【力】【量】【不】【足】。 【而】【是】【所】【有】【高】【层】【都】【同】【意】，【在】【军】【事】【扩】【张】【的】【途】【中】，【同】【时】【大】【力】【发】【展】【经】【济】、【民】【生】、【科】【技】【等】【硬】【实】【力】。 【联】【邦】【是】【每】【一】【个】【联】【邦】【公】【民】【的】【联】【邦】。 【军】【事】【强】
【穿】【上】【晚】【礼】【服】【的】【路】【一】【月】，【呆】【愣】【站】【在】【镜】【子】【前】。【最】【初】【这】【件】【衣】【服】，【是】【为】【了】【迎】【接】【自】【己】【在】【新】【锐】【第】【一】【次】【发】【布】【会】，【现】【在】【却】【要】【面】【对】【这】【样】【的】【境】【地】。 【缓】【缓】【拧】【开】【卧】【室】【的】【门】，【走】【了】【出】【来】。 【此】【刻】【沙】【发】【上】【的】【林】【奕】【和】【付】【明】【昊】【心】【中】【只】【剩】【下】【惊】【叹】，【平】【时】【的】【路】【一】【月】【多】【是】【素】【颜】，【只】【知】【道】【她】【清】【纯】。【可】【没】【想】【到】【还】【有】【如】【此】【娇】【媚】【的】【一】【面】。 【酒】【红】【色】【长】【裙】，【以】【及】【搭】【配】【的】
“【团】【长】，【快】，【快】【接】【住】【你】【的】【蛇】【儿】【子】！”【阿】【楠】【不】【敢】【说】【什】【么】，【阿】【汉】【可】【不】【是】。 【刚】【才】【夜】【御】【寒】【的】【话】【深】【入】【的】【不】【仅】【是】【阿】【楠】【的】【脑】【海】，【此】【时】【阿】【汉】【的】【脑】【海】【中】【也】【都】【是】【团】【长】【突】【然】【多】【出】【了】【一】【个】【儿】【子】。 【虽】【然】，【这】【儿】【子】【是】【个】【蛇】【儿】【子】！ 【但】【是】！！ 【这】【可】【是】**【蛇】【啊】！ 【团】【长】【这】【运】【气】【也】【是】【够】【好】【的】！ 【因】【为】【这】【厮】**【蛇】，【北】【极】【狐】【对】【它】【的】【厌】【恶】【也】【就】
【两】【人】【向】【着】【炎】【焱】【谷】【进】【发】，【随】【着】【一】【路】【向】【前】，【周】【围】【温】【度】【急】【剧】【攀】【升】，【此】【时】，【林】【琨】【才】【发】【现】，【他】【们】【降】【临】【太】【玄】【星】【之】【地】，【便】【是】【炎】【焱】【谷】【的】【正】【背】【面】，【整】【颗】【星】【球】【温】【度】【最】【低】【的】【区】【域】。 【忽】【然】，【有】【攻】【击】【自】【地】【下】【熔】【岩】【射】【出】，【来】【自】【一】【火】【焰】【凶】【兽】。 【此】【凶】【兽】【体】【型】【不】【大】，【只】【有】【一】【米】【高】，【浑】【身】【上】【下】【由】【岩】【浆】【构】【成】，【燃】【着】【火】【焰】。 【是】【一】【只】【弱】【小】【的】【没】【有】【灵】【智】【的】【凶】【兽】