I normally try to walk with my chin up and shoulders back, in order to make me look confident when I don't feel that way. Which is always. I used to walk around in a sullen manner, my eyes down at the ground, my shoulders slumped, looking as though(more) some fierce wind was fighting against me.
I guess I'd gotten used to walking around as though I was confident, because one day, a chilly wind did confront me, throwing snow in my face and causing me to assume that passive posture that I had long abandoned. 'I really used to walk like this all the time?' I wondered as I tried to fight weather and keep my chin up. A snowflake plastered itself right on the tip of my nose, which made me smile. Then the wind came again and I looked to the ground. This would just have to do for now.(less)
The building was very large, and she was very afraid.
"Go in," said her mother, hand light on her shoulder. "I will be waiting when you come out. Chin up, now."
(more) "I don't like the Church," said Bathsheba. "You hear things. Unhealthy things. They say they're trying to ban alchemy, but I don't understand why they would do that when they love science so much. They call themselves Enlightened even though they fear knowledge. Do I have to go?"
"Yes," was all her mother said. Bathsheba sighed. There would be no arguing. That had all been done before they left, when she crouched behind her bedroom door and listened to her mother rail on about duty and honor.
Her brother had gone out to fight in the war when they called for him, her mother had said. Why couldn't she do her part as well?
The difference, she thought, was that she might live. Or not, if you believed the rumors. People went into the Church headquarters, and they didn't come out. Or rather, when they did, they were not the same person they had been.
She started up the steps, pushed her way in past the large double doors. The gold lines inlaid in the dark wood glistened in the setting sun, forming an image that mirrored the sky behind it.
The long hall beyond flt very dark despite the light that streamed through the thickly-colored windows set along the sides. The carpet was a deep red, like wine. There was a clerk sitting behind a desk at the end, up a small flight of marble stairs, pecking away at a typewriter.
The man looked up when she approached, moving cautiously along the banister.
"Name?" was all he asked.
"Bathsheba Harari," she said. "I'm here about the Homonculi." (less)
When I think of the phrase chin up, I think of my recently passed grandfather.
My life was in shambles. I am only twenty and literally felt as if nothing was right and I was doomed to be unemployed and unhappy forever. I had applied for hundreds o(more)f jobs, no replies. I felt hopeless, helpless, worthless.
I had managed to find a job selling a vacuum cleaner called a Kirby, and let me tell you, it was bigger than me. Anyways, in the beginning process of this job we had to do demo's and my first demo was for my grandpa and grandma.
He let me go through the whole think, top to bottom, teasing and such. But he could see it in my eyes, that this was some sort of hope in my seemingly hopeless existence.
After I was done, he stopped me. He took my face into his hands and said, "Chin up beautiful, you'll find your way." He kissed my forehead and then told me to quit this and wait for the right think to come to me.
He passed a month later. However, through that rough time came something beautiful. I received an interview with starbucks, a job I have waited for, and I got it.
Had he not taken the time to advise me to keep that chin of mine up, I would still be in the hopeless slump selling vacuum cleaners, miserable.
"Chin up mate, you'll find someone else," Hank said as he patted my leg.
I suppose it was meant to reassuring, but it only made me uncomfortable. If I wasn't so miserable I think I would tell him to leave. It didn't help that I was still in yesterday's(more) clothes and smelling like a cauldron of assorted stenches. I scratched at my chin to feel prickly hair--something I would have shaved off days ago if I gave a damn, if we were still together.
"Just know that we're here for you buddy," Hank said.
God, why does every trite expression he use make me want to throw a cushion at his big stupid face?
I shouldn't say that. Hank's a good guy. I've had phone calls and Facebook messages--I deactived my profile soon after she made it public. A 'Facebook official breakup.' I mean can you believe the nerve? Hank was the only one to show up in person, on my doorstep with a case of frozen dinners. I wish it was a case of beer so I could drink myself into a semblance of a good mood.
"You are eating?" Hank asked, looking at my frail figure.
I pointed to the empty Doritos packets on the floor.
"I thought as much. That's why I brought you these dinners. Just chuck 'em in the freezer and come dinner time chuck it in the microwave. Easy peasy," Hank said. "Y'know what, I'll put 'em in for you." Hank picked up the case of frozen delights and headed for my kitchen. He came back and stood in front of the couch. I didn't get up. I think my body forgot how.
"Hope to see you back at work soon mate. Not sure how long I can keep covering for you."