tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-93275582024-03-07T13:41:20.563-05:00A Wyntir TaleMy writing... plain and simple.Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.comBlogger70125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-9391429993319421212020-09-08T18:54:00.004-04:002020-09-08T18:54:49.988-04:00Kai<p>He lay on the couch, feet sprawled out and one limb reaching out over the edge. It was a lazy Sunday morning and all seemed in order, but he was still restless. The night before had been a crazy adventure - he was being chased by some young punk and he nearly missed throwing punches, thank goodness for his agility and strength. He was able to get himself and his brother away without being hurt.</p><p>But this morning he wanted something more. Since moving down south, things seemed more foreign than ever. He no longer heard the wailing of sirens or yelling on the street. Those noises were replaced by loud cicadas and birds chirping happily. He wasn’t sure which was better. At least there was no longer that dank smell of marijuana wafting in from the hallways, thanks to inconsiderate or defiant neighbors.</p><p>The bedroom door opened and he lifted his head to see his dad coming into the living room. He’d recently had surgery and was up and about after a week and a half. It was nerve wracking for a while as his dad was in a lot of pain. He made sure to be by his side to offer emotional support. But now his dad was walking around and doing things on his own. </p><p>He stretched and stood up from the couch and went over to the window. That was one of his favorite places to visit in the morning. Birds and lizards and insects passed by the window and made for a interesting study. He sat watching and following them for a while before he noticed his mom come in from the garden. </p><p>She always smelled of tomatoes when she came back in. He didn’t like tomatoes, they reminded him of tunafish because the can made the same noise. But she smelled so good when she smelled of tomatoes. He made sure to greet her in the hallway and smelled her hands. Such a sweet smell, mixed with her own scent that made his whiskers wiggle with delight. He watched as she replaced her garden shoes for her warm sock slippers then headed for the couch. Next to looking out the window, the couch was his number one favorite place. </p><p>She swung her feet onto the couch and adjusted a pillow behind her back. Next, she threw a blanket over herself then picked up her iPad. She was going to work some more on things humans use computers for. He waited for her to get comfortable, then jumped up onto her lap and circled twice to find the right spot. A few more moments kneading the blanket and he finally settled in for the remainder of the morning. What a wonderful life to be a cat he thought as she gently stroked his head and under his chin.</p>Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-40082911286559931272018-11-02T13:34:00.002-04:002018-11-02T13:34:42.927-04:00Freewrite: So hungryThis is going to be a freewrite, no deleting no editing and writing slower than usual because i can't use the backspace key.<br />
<br />
she was stiittng at the computer , waiting for the food to arrisve. the bu gum had lost its flavor and her stomach rumbled. she wquickly ran to the dining roo m to and awaidted<br />
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man now i want to start over.<br />
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She was sitting at the computer , waiting for the food to arrive. The gum had already lost its flavor and her stomach rumbled. She ran into the dining room, patinently waiting her turn to speak and asked if trhe food was on its way. He confirmed that it was alread y ordered and should be here any minute.<br />
she went abback to her room and worked on her blog. this was a horrible tim e to be hungry. though sh ewas not nearly as hungry as many people all around the world. kids were starving on the very streets of america and she was sad about not having ofood right now.<br />
<br />
They sudcdenly moved out of the dining area and she made her move. Quickly goin g towards the kitchen, she remembered seeing some cheddar snack sticks in the fridge. she opened the package, grabed one and went back to her work room.<br />
<br />
no sooner th had she finished the stick did the food arrive. nah, horrible.<br />
<br />
No sooner had she finished the stick that the doorbell rang. Pizza was here.<br />
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With the quickness, she went to the kitchen, made herself a plate and hastely shoved the pizza into he r mouth. it wasn't graceful. it wasnt' pretty at all but at least she was fed.<br />
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*based on a true storey hahahaMarjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-53544168338335432512014-12-13T04:30:00.001-05:002014-12-14T03:21:28.958-05:00Dream: The Apartment<i>(you may notice that my recent writings are getting a bit more.... i don't want to say racy but perhaps romantic or mushy. This one gets a little more "enticing" hahha these have been dreams I've been having. Maybe i'll start changing up my headings. Enjoy! )</i><br>
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Getting up for work each day is tedious. Take a piss, brush teeth, shower, feed the cats, get dressed, empty the litter box and remember to lock up. Same thing every day. Until the new neighbor arrived.<br>
<br>
There was an empty store front i used to day dream about at work. It had large glass windows and a double door to let people in/out. There was brown paper lining the panes of glass so it was difficult to see in. I had wondered when someone would take over the lease every time i saw the "FOR RENT" sign on my way home.<br>
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Thursday was different. I remember it was Thursday because that was Chinese Food day. Every week i was allowed one take out night and since nothing was better than my own cooking, i choose to eat Chinese Food. I had just come back upstairs to my apartment after getting food from the lobby when i noticed a light against the brown paper. Someone was moving around and their shadow danced from one window to the next. I watched from my balcony door until the light went out and the show was over. It would be interesting to see what would become of that space.<br>
<br>
Little did i know the surprise its owner would bring.<br>
<br>
I think I might have left something out - all the items in my daily routine are done completely naked. Well, except getting dressed and leaving the house, of course. My apartment is on a high enough floor that i don't even bother to close the blinds. The only direct line of sight was an apartment across the street. But their balcony was always fenced with tightly laid gray wooden beams in and no one moved around out there so i never paid it any mind.<br>
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Friday came along and i did my normal routine. Pissed, brushed, showered, fed the cats and as I was petting one of my dear babies i noticed a paper crinkle. My radio was blaring the morning news but i could hear a distinct flapping of paper. I looked around to see if my cats had rummaged through the recycling again and played with a paper bag. They were happily munching on the new food i just put down. I looked elsewhere around the apartment but couldn't see anything that would make that noise. With a shrug, i decided to ignore it and started to make the bed. I bent over to grab the sheets when i heard a different sound.<br>
<br>
A man's cough or at least a clearing of the throat caused me to stop in my tracks. Not in the most modest position, bent over my bed naked, but i turned my head to see that through the a man reading the newspaper, seemingly unaware of me being just across the street. I thought about grabbing the sheets or the nearest piece of clothing to cover myself up but I stopped. This was my apartment and i could do what i want. Besides, if i could barely see him through the fence slits, who's to say he couldn't see me?<br>
<br>
I went about my day thinking about the new neighbor. I could bake some cookies or offer to show him around town. I was just coming up to my block when the storefront doors opened. Hugh Jackman walked out the store and took a deep breath. He was smiling, almost ready to laugh and I could tell things were working out really well for him today. Not wanting to ruin his moment, I started to cross the street. He caught my glance and hollered "G'day miss!" I smiled back and waved my hand. <br>
<br>
Heading upstairs I smiled, he was a handsome man and I wondered if he was here all by himself. Surely there was a family going to arrive just days behind him, ready to make their new home in this small town of mine. I laughed, opened my door and went about my evening routine. Shoes, coat, pet the kitties, feed the kitties, clean the litter box, change into house lounging attire. <br>
<br>
I never could understand why people would get home and change. It seemed so wasteful to use up so many clothes in the week. I popped my work clothes into the hamper and slipped on some cut-off sweatpants made into shorts and a t-shirt with the star from Super Mario Bros. I half expected to hear paper flipping from the balcony across the way but it seemed no one was there. I did look down to find Mr. Jackman looking up and smiling. He turned on his heels and went back into the store. <br>
<br>
For the next few weeks he read the paper on the balcony every morning. I attempted to catch even one stare but i couldn't. His gaze was planted securely to that paper. I didn't realize the news was that intriguing. Since i was half asleep in the mornings anyway, nothing changed of my routine and I started having conversations with Mr. Jackman, even if he didn't answer back.<br>
<br>
Then the strangest thing happened. I was on my way downstairs and thought to stop by the mailboxes to check for a delivery when i saw Mr. Jackman waiting there. He seemed anxious and was pacing back and forth. "Are you all right?" My brow furrowed, it pained me to see people uneasy.<br>
<br>
"Yes, it's just .... (man i can't remember the dream now.... all day i've been thinking about this and i can't remember what he said :( it was something that would have been discussed or advertised on 1010wins because i was hearing that whilst i slept.)Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-21859559163410523122014-11-22T16:51:00.001-05:002014-11-22T16:52:48.561-05:00Dreaming of VigilantesMy friends and i were all packed and ready to go on our weekend trip. I closed the passenger door and caught a reflection from the rearview mirror. Startling blue eyes peeked out from under a green hood waiting for my recognition. I laughed and shook my head, my friends had no idea who they were about to meet. <div><br></div><div>He laughed back, waited for my introduction then pulled back his hoodie. My friends were in shock - they had only seen this man from afar and now here he was. He walked over to me to say hello and with all eyes watching, leaned down to give me a lingering kiss. I was surprised myself, i didn't think we were telling anyone of our involvement but i followed his lead and kissed him lovingly back. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">By now my friends didn't know what to say. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">He took my hand and led me to my friends. I introduced them all and he humbly shook everyone's hand, returning his own to my waist when all was done. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I explained that he would be coming with us on our trip for a short time before he had to go back to filming. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">We broke away from our friendship hiddle to get into our respective cars. He hopped in the passenger seat and watched me walk around to the driver's side. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">"I'm glad i could make it. I would have missed you like crazy" he smiled. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">"You are amazing" i replied and kissed him before starting the car. </span></div><div><div><br></div><div><br></div></div>Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-55544893789331041052014-11-13T11:40:00.001-05:002014-11-13T11:40:52.799-05:00The path to loving yourselfPamela had been staring at the ceiling for about five minutes before she realized her mind drifted from her task. She was to head to the bathroom mirror, look into her own eyes and say "I love you, Pamela Ann". It was all a part of this self love book she bought from Barnes & Noble. But she found her mind wandering and couldn't get out of bed. <div><br></div><div>She knew this type of therapy was helpful, it was actually just what she was looking for. Years of taking care of others was due to her not taking care of herself. All the hopes and wishes for her friends, family and even strangers to do well was not something she could do for herself. So she sought out a tangible way to help and found this book. </div><div><br></div><div>But now that it was time to start this therapy, she found it hard to do the task. She bit her lip as she tried to look behind the reason for staying in bed. The bathroom was just at the end of the hallway. She was not tired or lazy or wanting to do something else. She just didn't want to do it. </div><div><br></div><div>"Why?" A voice asked in her head. </div><div><br></div><div>"I don't know" she replied and closed her eyes. </div><div><br></div><div>"You know why, but you don't want to admit it..."</div><div><br></div><div>"I...I don't"</div><div><br></div><div>"Go on, you can say it. There is no one here to judge your honesty. We'll get to that later."</div><div><br></div><div>"I don't think I'm important enough"</div><div><br></div><div>"For what, sweetie?"</div><div><br></div><div>"My attention needs to be spent on more important things than myself."</div><div><br></div><div>"Is that true? Is that how you really feel?"</div><div><br></div><div>"It's how i was made to feel. My thoughts, desires and feelings are secondary to those that need my help."</div><div><br></div><div>"Who made you feel that way?"</div><div><br></div><div>At this question she thought a moment. Her answer for years had been her father. He was strict and taught her how to keep a house. He reprimanded her for getting overly excited whether being happy or sad. She internalized those reactions to mean her feelings were not wanted and so she shouldn't have them. The Pamela started to cry. </div><div><br></div><div>"Yes, go ahead, sweetie. It's okay to let it out. Who made you feel that way?</div><div><br></div><div>"I made me feel that way."</div><div><br></div><div>"Well, that's part of it. Years of hearing how not to display your emotions can be unsettling. But you are older and your own woman now. If someone tells you that, there is no reason for you to take that as a command or to even act on it. So why hold on to such memories?"</div><div><br></div><div>"There is a fear, a fear that my life was wasted, that i missed out on so much because I felt I had to live by these rules. I don't want these rules any more."</div><div><br></div><div>"Then leave them behind. You have to find the importance of yourself. You must define the love Pamela recieves not from others but from Pamela. That is what you can control."</div><div><br></div><div>Pamela looked through her tears at the ceiling. She balled her fists, threw the covers back and headed to the bathroom. The sunlight came in through the window and fell on her head and shoulders. Looking into the mirror she found her own eyes and turned away. </div><div><br></div><div>"Don't judge. It will be difficult at first but if you do this every day you will get the hang of it."</div><div><br></div><div>"But it seems so silly. I don't understand how this is supposed to..."</div><div><br></div><div>"Don't think about it. Just say it."</div><div><br></div><div>Pamela closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Planting hands on either side of the sink she looked up and into her own eyes. </div><div><br></div><div>"I love you, Pamela Ann" </div><div><br></div><div>The eyes that stared back were quivering with fear but steadied once the words sunk in. A younger Pamela started to peak out, wondering if this was a joke. Trust was just in the horizon and Pamela looked away. </div><div><br></div><div>"I never realized how difficult this would be."</div><div><br></div><div>"you have the ability to love someone greatly. You see yourself do it every day for your family, friends and sometimes for people that you meet on the street. But we have to work on turning that kindness and compassion back into yourself. Perhaps not today but we'll check back in a few days. Anytime you see your reflection make sure to tell yourself how much love there is for You."</div><div><br></div><div>"I'll try" Pamela said wincing. </div><div><br></div><div>"You'll do it. You've already taken the first step."</div><div><br></div><div>Pamela sighed, emotionally taxed and went back to bed. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-25293453841231781462014-09-14T13:36:00.002-04:002014-12-14T03:21:09.332-05:00Dream: The visit<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">It's strange how you become accustomed to city streets. People used to warn me constantly that it wasn't safe to walk at night. Never really bothered me. Except for a few people here and there walking just a little too close or staring a little too long. As long as I payed attention, I would be okay.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I walked along Essex with my hands in my jacket pockets as the warmth kept within my layers offered a welcome comfort. Streetlights made the damp concrete glisten at this time of night. Few people were out so I had the street to myself.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">In another 5 minutes i would make it to his house. Just as i was about to cross the street, a FedEx truck slammed on his breaks and fishtailed into a building on the corner. The tiles that lined the outside of the building indented slightly, but it seemed that no other damage was done. Cursing, the driver jumped out of his cab and looked for the car that caused him to break so quickly. Throwing his cigarette to the ground, he stomped back and forth, unable to find the fiend.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I shook my head and crossed anyway. I would have called the cops except the driver made it back to his cab and was on the radio in no time. I continued down for two more blocks.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Either the music from my earbuds was really engaging or I was on autopilot because I can't remember getting to his apartment. Before I knew it, I was inside. I didn't feel uncomfortable or intrusive. It was as if someone invited me in, just not the owner. I could hear rustling from another room - I think it was the cleaner.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I was so surprised to see how simple his setup was. Compared to my own apartment, his Ikea furniture and lack of very expensive items made me feel silly for being embarrassed when we first met. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">If i remember correctly, I placed an ad on Craigslist selling some of my old vinyls given to me by my Grandmother. I was hard up for money and needed to pay the rent. I received an email shortly after with an urgent ask to purchase those albums. I arranged a pickup at my apartment for that weekend. To my surprise, the guy that showed up to purchase the records was Robert Downey Jr. himself. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Mr. Downey Jr. wasn't with anyone, and was really polite. I froze for a moment with embarrassment because I hadn't cleaned the place and it was in quite a state of disarray. I apologized to him for the mess and invited him inside to look through the records.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">That afternoon was magical. We listened to records, talked about life and what was going on in our lives. His visit went long into the evening and he even offered to get Chinese. When his visit was over, he insisted on overpaying for the records and asked if he could call on me again to have another afternoon. I assured him that was fine by me.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Now I was let into his own home. There was art on the wall, a flat screen TV and a few couches. Nothing that would suggest he had a famous life style. I was checking other things around the living room when I heard keys in the door. Mr. Downey walked in with a surprised look. I froze in my tracks. I couldn't remember why I was here. Did he invite me over? Why the hell was I let into his apartment? Was this even okay to be here?</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Cautiously, he moved towards me, almost studying me to see what I would do next. I felt as if he was trying to gauge my discomfort and was hiding a laugh behind those watchful eyes. I did my best to play it cool. I pulled out a drawing pad and started to sketch random shapes. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">He moved to the couch and turned the TV on. The door opened again and his wife stepped through. She smiled and welcomed me, then began bringing in groceries. I asked if i could help but Mr. Downey said not to worry about it. He invited me to sit down and started up a conversation. It had been a while since we last spoke after all.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I was mortified. I felt I didn't belong here and I couldn't remember how I got here or why. Mr. Downey seemed to pick up on that and moved closer on the couch. I kept my eyes down on my sketching. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I was able to make a swooping shape to the left. That gave me an idea for a dress for cosplay so I mirrored the shape and kept drawing. To my surprise, it turned out incredibly well and that caught the attention of Mr. Downey. H</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">e started to watch.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">My nervousness grew, I am not a good artist, but he seemed interested and working with the blue pencil and paper kept me somewhat calm. I was able to sketch out a highly detailed wedding dress until he moved a bit closer.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I could feel my temperature rise, having this person I admired from afar so close to me and there was nothing I could do about it. His wife was working in the open kitchen, starting to make dinner. And then he got closer. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">At this point, he was close enough to whisper into my ear. My pencil stopped drawing for a moment as it took everything within me to not try to melt. He asked if I was going to his High School Reunion. I blinked, not comprehending what he just asked and asked him to repeat his question. He laughed a bit, probably noticing the breathless quality in my voice, put his arm around me and asked again. When i realized what he said, i started to laugh. </span><br>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I asked him where it was. He replied it was set in Ontario and he expected that I'd want to go. He would really like it if I went. Then he'd have someone to talk with. I felt honored and surprised at the thought of it and was quickly reminded of my financial situation. I let him know I'd think about it.</span>Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-71218069998574688422013-12-25T22:42:00.001-05:002014-01-14T12:17:45.766-05:00The Christmas Diner<div style="min-height: 19px;">
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Stepping off the bus she thanked the driver. "Merry Christmas, Frank… thanks for working today."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"No problem, Cathy. You'll be okay out there?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Yeah, i'll be okay."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The doors closed and she walked toward the building. The stores on that block had long since closed but light fell on the sidewalk from one set of windows. A neon sign flickered 'Open' and she stepped through the door.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Inside was fuller than she imagined. Booths were all filled on one side and tables had many empty chairs. She opted for the counter since it wasn't so bad sitting alone at a table for one. As she sat down, she realized everyone was sitting alone. So was the tradition at the Christmas Diner.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">People came from uptown, downtown, east and west of the city to this one place. It was the only diner open 24 hours even on holidays. While everyone had dinner with the families, they stayed open with a seat for those that could not share with their loved ones.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She swiveled around and took a menu from the stand. It wasn't Thanksgiving but a turkey dinner sounded really good right about now. A waitress stopped over and took a pencil from her hair. She had on thick black rimmed glasses, bright red lipstick and heavy eyeliner. Her smile was genuine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"What can I get for you, hun?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I'll have the turkey deluxe, please and some ginger ale" Cathy quietly requested.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"You got it… hey, you gonna be okay?"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Yeah, I'm fine. Hey, i have a question… Why is everyone asking that?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The waitress put the pencil back in her hair, looked out the window and smiled. A bell hanging over the door rang as a new customer entered. "Maybe he'll explain."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cathy looked over with her eyes but kept her head forward. Through peripheral vision she could make out a tall figure with a hat and winter jacket on. He made his way to the counter and sat a seat away from her. He took off the hat, placed it on the unoccupied side of the counter and asked for some hot, black coffee. It was his voice that Cathy noticed first.</span></div>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sadness rose from the depths of a baritone throat. He knew what he wanted but didn't demand, only requested. He offered respect with authority and wouldn't take advantage with the powers he was given. He turned toward Cathy and raised his newly delivered coffee cup. </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Merry Christmas, miss."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"M-Merry Christmas" Cathy hesitated. She was staring and hadn't realized her head had turned toward him completely. So drawn in was she to his voice. With a smile she folder her hands and turned her attention to her suddenly unacceptable cuticles.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The waitress brought Cathy a place setting of a cloth napkin, knife fork and spoon. Her ginger ale came next and then her plate of food. The meal smelled delicious and she was starving, but curiosity turned her head toward her new neighbor.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"What do you think you'll have for dinner tonight?"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Not sure yet. Just worried about keeping warm for now. Looks like you have a meal ready for a King, or a Queen perhaps?" He laughed and her heart ached. She knew that laugh. It was a way of protection to keep others out where they don't belong. If someone was laughing you couldn't tell they were hurting, right?</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She sighed in sympathy without realizing it. He looked up from his coffee to catch her gaze but she already turned her eyes back toward the plate. This time he sighed and put in his order.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I'll have the turkey pot pie."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cathy smiled and started in on her mashed potatoes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I know i shouldn't talk with my mouth full, but i have to ask. What brings you out here on Christmas day? We all have our reasons and i see no one else here with a guest. Y-you don't have to answer if i'm being too intrusive but i guess i'm just not feeling introverted today…" She shoved a spoonful of stuffing into her mouth before she could ramble off anything else.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Well… it is my tradition to come here on Christmas" he replied as he was served his pot pie. "Donna here gets me a coffee, a turkey pot pie and apple strudel every year. I've been doing this for ten years. What about you?"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cathy stopped mid chew. She was't ready for his question - she was the one collecting info on this new intriguing guy. "Me…? Well i needed some space from my apartment. It's kind of a sad story, you probably don't want me to bring you down on such a festive holiday."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"But you came here for company, didn't you?" He looked up again from his meal. This time he caught her eyes. He had dark brown irises that spoke of the same sadness in his voice.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Y-yes, I guess you're right," she put her fork down. She didn't mean to sound so dramatic but always felt the need to explain herself. Why couldn't she just give short answers once and a while. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cathy opened her mouth to begin her story when the entrance bell rang again. An old lady with ragged clothes walked through the door. She held a cup in her hand and rattled the few coins that were inside. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Can anyone spare some change, please, i'm so very hungry…" she weaved to and from all the tables. Donna served a couple in the far corner then headed towards the old lady. She took her gingerly by the arm and led her to a booth by the window. She set down a cloth napkin and some silverware and handed the old woman a menu.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Take your time, mam. I'll be back with some water"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I can't pay for this, child…" the woman wearily cautioned.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Donna smiled and with a wink was away to fetch some water.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cathy closed her mouth, unable to describe the pitiful sadness she was feeling. Shame and righteousness washed over her alternatively. How could she be upset this season when she still had a place to live, food to eat and money to buy things. The old woman had very little and was working hard to get what she needed to live on.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Excuse me, Donna, was it," Cathy raised her arm to get the waitress's attention. "I'll cover the charge for that woman over there."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Thanks, hun, but Clarice is covered here."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Okay…" was all Cathy could say and went back to the turkey.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"So are you going to tell me the story, or what?" </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cathy couldn't lift her eyes past his half eaten pot pie. </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He leaned in to whisper "Look, don't feel bad for Clarice. She has many things going on in her life that may seem unfortunate for us outsiders but she has a lot going for her too. Her mind and health are still with her, at least for now. We all have our burdens, it's okay, if you're not ready I can wait." Then a little more loudly he said "This pie sure is good!"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She laughed at that along with a few others in the diner. Taking a sweeping glance, she realized that while they were all sitting alone, no one looked unhappy. They weren't dancing in their seats but they looked content. She wondered why.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound…"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He cut her off. "Don't apologize. Just speak freely, you may be judged but be yourself at least."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cathy's shoulders stiffened at that remark. Judgement. That was the last thing she needed right now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"More ginger ale, hun?" Donna making her rounds.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Yes, please."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cathy turned toward her neighbor and realized she never caught his name. </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Well before i tell you, at least let me know your name? I'm Cathy" and she outstretched her hand.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"My name is Paul. Pleasure to meet you." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He shook her hand with a warm, firm grip and let her own hand slip out of his. Cathy's shoulders relaxed and she was surprised by how good she felt at his touch. She tried to think back when she'd had actual human contact.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I'm sorr…." she stopped herself and took a breath. This was going to be a challenge.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"It's not easy to know where to start. So I guess i'll start with today. This Christmas has bothered me like no others. This is the first Christmas in 17 years where i have not had a significant other. It's not the first time i've spent the holidays on my own - in fact i've taken pleasure being away from family on some occasions just to not have to deal with the stress. But this time, it's not voluntary. </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Think of having no one to share your morning or evening with. To talk about the day's news or books or movies. I'm an introvert by nature but my God i need someone to talk to." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cathy's hands started to tense up around the silverware. Paul listened and watched her knuckles slowly turn to white. He took a sip of coffee and set it down a little closer to Cathy.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I have friends and hanging out with them is always a special time but it's just not the same. There is no contact. No brushing hair out of my face, or caressing my arms or holding me while watching a movie. None of that… for a really long time. I need…" </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cathy broke off when she felt her cheeks burning. They glistened with newly dropped tears without her blinking. She looked down, ashamed of crying but couldn't bring herself to wipe away the tears. That would admit she had fallen weak.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Paul slowly reached over and placed his hands atop hers. He wedged the fork and knife from her chilly fingers and moved one seat closer. Her tears fell freely while she continued on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"It's so damn lonely…" she cried out and her shoulders slumped. Paul caught her in his arms and let her cry. The sobs wracked her body and she didn't hold back. Cathy didn't care about being judged. She was the strong one for so long - how was she expected to be strong forever. If this made her weak so be it. She was finished with being everyone else's rock. This perfect stranger was willing to lend his strength for a moment and she took it.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Just know that right now," he spoke as gently as he could "you are not alone."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Thank you," Cathy choked out as best she could.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After some time, she pulled away and excused herself to go to the bathroom. She could hear Paul ordering his apple strudel just before the bathroom door closed. The mirror reflected her puffy eyes, runny nose and a nose that would have shamed Rudolph. She cleaned herself up as best she could and thought about what just happened at the counter. how could she have been so trusting. She had no idea who this person was and yet she trusted him with her deepest secret. Maybe she could explain to him some more and help make him understand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cathy stalled in the bathroom, unsure what to do next. She let her guard down which was a mistake. How could she go out there and face him again? Maybe she could stay in the bathroom until he left. </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Cathy, stop being so foolish. Just go out there. He was willing to listen, now be an ear for him" she took another deep breath, one to slow her pounding heart, and headed back to the counter.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She saw a plate of finished apple strudel and some cash for a tip but Paul was gone. Her heart sank. </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Not even a good-bye?" she felt new tears brimming.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Donna, did you see where Paul went?"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Sorry, hun, who?"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"The gentleman who was here, with the hat just a moment ago? He had the strudel?"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"We have pie here, hun but no strudel. Are you feeling okay? Want me to call you a cab or something?"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"No, i'll be all right. Thanks for dinner. Merry Christmas." </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cathy nodded to Clarice on her way out and headed for the bus stop. Half a block down she wondered if she left enough of a tip and turned to go back. When she found the door, the Open neon sign was off and chipped in several places. There were NYC Department of Health stickers all over the door and windows claiming the site closed for unsanitary conditions. The dust on the windows and floor showed it had been closed for days if not weeks.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"What the hell…?" Cathy felt full and could still taste cranberries. She also remembered having arms wrapped around her while she cried. Shaking her head she walked to the bus stop. A few minutes later she could see Frank pulling up to the curb. </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Hey - caught you on the return trip too! Did you find what you were looking for?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cathy thought for a moment and then smiled. "Yes, Frank, i think i did. Time to go home."</span></div>
Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-88321262320685407592013-10-29T01:39:00.001-04:002013-10-29T01:39:13.133-04:00Something nice for SamThe sun was shining onto the golden yellow leaves still waving gently on their branches. Sam smiled and tilted her face up to catch the warm rays. She just left the tax office, her federal and state returns in hand. The preparer mentioned a post office down the street and she made her way over to the granite faced building.<div>
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<div>
Today was equivalent to accomplishment. When Sam could check things off a list her morale boosted. She wanted to ride that wave all day and decided to do a little something nice for herself. On the way to the post office, she saw a salon with an open door. One of the hair dressers was laughing as the other danced in her booth area. They looked happy and Sam stepped in.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Her dressers name was Georgia and she was older than the others. She smiled genuinely and asked to take Sam's coat. Sam was seated while Georgia looked over her hair. She loved long hair and wouldn't dream of cutting Sam's locks short. There would be some good grooming done with two inches off the bottom and a layered look. Sam agreed and she was sent off to the washer.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A younger dark skinned woman took her back and asked her to be seated. Her own hair was brown at the roots and got steadily lighter up into her curls. It was twisted and springy and a good look for her. Sam leaned back and let the magic of a hair washing relax her after a long week. The younger lady washed, rinsed then conditioned and dried with a towel. She offered Sam some tea and walked her back over to Georgia.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Georgia was a good hair dresser. She could cut and measure and style while still keeping up with small talk. She didn't pause when she told her stories and would make constant eye contact through the mirror to ensure i was doing well. The chat was not too deep but engaging and Sam enjoyed laughing at her jokes and shared some of her her own experiences. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When it was all done, Sam counted this as another accomplishment. She hadn't had her hair cut in over a year. She headed back home, perhaps to take a nap as she was up earlier that morning. Of course, when she got home, she got her second wind, found some new clothes and headed right back out for the first time in a while. She never went out on Saturday nights.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
to be continued….</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-1968815420343290542013-10-27T23:19:00.001-04:002013-10-27T23:19:09.130-04:00freewrite - who's the right one?"He wasn't good enough." Todd said. "You could do much better…"<br />
<br />
She replied with a scoff and "Yeah? Like who?" <br />
<br />
Todd grinned and winked. Scumbag.<br />
<br />
Nancy didn't have much luck with finding a partner. The first needed someone his own age. The second needed a mommy replacement. The third was passionate but required constant emotional care. The fourth wanted short freedom before he went off to fulfill his family duty. The fifth seemed like the right one, at least for now.<br />
<br />
But Nancy had a problem. It was't until she had already invested time that she realized things weren't meant to work out. Maybe it was due to her wanting things to work. She would try with all her might until she had nothing left to give. The weariness overtook her and she had to leave the situation or become completely crushed.<br />
<br />
She was going to therapy for that. A nice round lady with curly blond/brown hair listened to Nancy every week. Steph was a good fit and listened empathetically to all of Nancy's stories. There was never judgement but at times she called Nance out when she wasn't being honest with her or herself.<br />
<br />
So Nancy heard Todd's comment and her heart began to sink. Was she making the same mistake again? How could she tell? Were the warning signs coming back? She thought they might be. Telling people that she was in a long distance relationship, making excuses of why she couldn't meet up for double dates, getting frustrated when promised a phone call and hearing nothing until the next day or two.<br />
<br />
She couldn't tell if she was blowing things out of proportion. Was she expecting too much? He wasn't working, but looking hard for a job. This was the case in a previous relationship, but this was a little different. She wasn't 'allowed' to go to his place. Was she being too trusting? <br />
<br />
Nancy smiled and excused herself from the dinner table. She fought hard to keep laughing at the jokes they made while she walked toward the ladies room. Behind the first door, then the stall metal she slumped against the wall and let her tears come freely. It was so confusing, trying to be positive but not naive. How could she tell what she should be doing?<br />
<br />
Now her nose was running her eyes must be really red. She blew her nose with toilet paper and started breathing deeply to regulate her heart. Who would have thought these episodes couldn't be held back any more. Smiling to herself, she jokingly damned her therapist for a good job and left the stall to wash her hands.<br />
<br />
The mirror above the sinks showed her eyes were a little red as was her nose and cheeks. After drying her hands she used the paper towel to wipe her face. She wouldn't let the guys get to her. They were just being silly and flirtatious. If what they said bothered her that much, she had a lot more thinking to do on her current relationship.<br />
<br />Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-28708947209130407382013-07-08T23:17:00.000-04:002013-07-08T23:17:31.812-04:00anger - freewrite<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Her lip trembled as it jutted from her jaw. Red splotches formed at the very tips of her ears, filling in until they burned with a heightened temperature. Eyes dark but fiery stared at a single brick in the wall across the room. Huddled in a corner, she stared on for about an hour, unable to shake "the clench."</span><div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">This was Sam's cooling down ritual. If ever she became enraged, she'd head to a room behind the boiler without any windows. Her goal was to focus the energy out of her body. If the energy could not be dispersed, bad things would happen. Sam called this "the clench."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">It was actually Sam's brother, upon witnessing his sister changed before his eyes, that coined the phrase. He came home one night, after football practice to find a trail of red dots around the back of the house. He followed it down the basement stairs and to a back room behind the boiler. Grabbing a flashlight from the wall of tools he went toward the back of the basement.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Hello?" he gently called out. A small rustling sound came from behind the door. He pointed the flashlight on the floor to find more dots on the ground. Opening the door slowly he saw his sister huddled in the corner her hands dripping with the red stuff.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"oh my god, Sam!" he cried as he rushed forward to check where the crimson liquid was coming from.</span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"It's not mine, Travis..." she repeated in whispers.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Travis checked anyway. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Wrists and arms are okay, legs too. What happened, Sammy?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"He was going to kill her, so i got to him first"</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Travis kept on checking. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Who, Sam?"</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Mr. Glay."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"The security guard at the High School? Sam, he's a high visibility case. People will notice he's missing."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"I can't help who's nex.." the words faded from her lips and the tears burned as they rolled down her cheeks.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Travis took off his jacket and placed it gently over her shoulders. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"You have 'the clench', Sammy. Grandma had it too. There's no telling who will be next, it's not your fault. C'mere." He pulled her into his arms as she shivered. "I'll let Dad know. He'll fix it."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Dad did fix it. He created an accident at the school that explained by Mr. Glay would not be able to return to duty. He also came up with a type of meditation for Sam when she could feel 'the clench' come on. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">She was doing what she could to focus on that damn brick but it felt as if she could set it on fire with her stare. The release would have to come another way. There was the barista who burned her hot chocolate earlier in the morning or the politician on the sidewalk that held up traffic. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Annoyances and besides, i can't choose who's next. They come to me..."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">She stood up and reached for a dangling pencil that was attached to a clipboard on the wall. The pencil seemed to move all on it's own as a name appeared in graphite. She let the pencil slip from her fingers as a smile crossed her face. She had the next name.</span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">~~~~~~~~~</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">bah... i need more practice. i don't have the energy to finish this story. :/ But i know where it leads...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-24053961564560074912013-06-02T23:42:00.001-04:002013-06-02T23:42:47.838-04:00freewrite"gotta get back to writing again..." she whispered to herself.<br />
<br />
She closed her eyes, waiting. nothing came to her mind. She was just about to go to sleep when the buzzer rang. She was comfy, settled in and making an effort to sleep early tonight. the day before had her in and out of sleep. the body retaliates and takes what it needs eventually. she wished for that take over now.<br />
<br />
CRASH... came the thunder. Her darkened room lit up with the lightening then another BOOM! Rocking her head back and forth, the sharp cracks came from her neck as if to compete with the storm's own noise. <br />
<br />
she held a pen, then a pencil.. started to doodle on the page but nothing came.<br />
<br />
"Bah.. might as well check facebook" she winced. This was a time waster and she was sure to do more harm than good. But as soon as she pulled up her keyboard, her fingers started to type. <br />
<br />
A browser opened, she typed in an address... once she had it bookmarked. Here was where she would write every day, diligently making stories for others to read. Now she was rusty. She was scared. would she still have what it takes?<br />
<br />
"freewrite" she answered her own question. <br />
<br />
The freedom to write whatever comes to mind, just to get the writing muscle used to the words again.<br />
<br />
her fingers flew over the keys with nonsense words. the rain pattered down on her window ledge and she tried to match the rhythm with her typing. It was soon hard to tell which was faster.<br />
<br />
after 15 minutes, she stepped back, panting from her exercise and she smiled. it was rough and very much out of her own style, but at least it was something. Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-45872731711752061632012-11-01T22:53:00.000-04:002012-11-01T22:53:42.977-04:00freewrite"I need to get out of here!"<br />
<br />
"Calm down, Marissa."<br />
<br />
"How can i be calm? I feel like i'm going to crawl out of my skin, you have to get me outta here."<br />
<br />
"There's nothing we can do right now, shh! Did you hear that?"<br />
<br />
"I can't hear anything past my beating heart. What are we going to do Anthon..."<br />
<br />
"QUIET. I think someone's coming."<br />
<br />
"Oh God, no, we have to get out of here."<br />
<br />
"DAMNIT Marissa! Don't make me hold your mouth again. We can't be heard you don't want us to go into the box like last time, right?"<br />
<br />
"RI.... right. I'll be quiet. Anthony?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah?"<br />
<br />
"I really have to get out of here."<br />
<br />
"Ok, that's better. Now, take my hands in yours. That's it, that's my girl. Close your eyes and pay attention to your heart. Shhh.. i know you hear the footsteps. You must remain calm for us to leave, right? Good. Now, squeeze my hands, I'm here and i'm not going anywhere. Listen to your heart. Feel the blood flowing from your chest into the rest of your body. The heart is your center and all life is pouring from that one spot. Yes, that's it. I can see it in your smile. Can you hear the footsteps any more?"<br />
<br />
"no..."<br />
<br />
"Excellent. Open the gates, Marissa. Yes, that's it. I can see the light. Now, look at me."<br />
<br />
"I-I, I can't!"<br />
<br />
"Shhh, why not?"<br />
<br />
"I don't want to hurt you."<br />
<br />
"You want to get out of here, don't you?"<br />
<br />
"Y-yes, but not if it's going to hurt you."<br />
<br />
"They're coming for you, Marissa. You only have one chance to get out. If you don't put yourself first, they will capture you and I'll never see you again."<br />
<br />
"But... if i open the gates, i won't see you either."<br />
<br />
"If my destiny is the same in both cases, why not choose the path that sets you free? Open the gates, Rissa."<br />
<br />
"I.... goodbye, Anthony."<br />
<br />
Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-27451129563044446612012-07-03T23:41:00.001-04:002012-07-03T23:41:20.657-04:00freewrite - nervousShe paced back and forth. The room was 5' x 7' and there was hardly enough space to make full strides. She reasoned that massaging opposite palms with her thumbs was an attempt for some relief. The nervous gesture was really just to keep from biting her nails. <br />
<br />
"Why am i feeling this way now," she asked herself. "Kathy, focus..."<br />
<br />
The day was going okay for once. Kathy's book signing at Barnes & Nobel was a huge success. After years of writing, something finally caught a publisher's attention. She smirked at that thought, the words weren't the only thing being noticed.<br />
<br />
Three years ago, Frederick Prichard stared at a slim brunette through the coffee shop window. He laughed as he watched an order take place of decaf coffee at one of the hottest caffeine spots in town. The barista handed her a cup with so many markings it was impossible not to recognize her. He watched as she maneuvered through the long line of waiting customers without looking up from her Blackberry. He opened the door as she exited. <br />
<br />
"Thank you," she quietly mumbled. <br />
<br />
"You're welcome, Miss Rogers," he replied, keeping the door open. <br />
<br />
For a moment, the Blackberry was forgotten. She looked up to see who spoke her name and found a tall man holding the door open, looking straight at her. <br />
<br />
"I'm sorry, how do you know..." she trailed off as the thought occurred to her she just confirmed that was her name.<br />
<br />
"Miss Rogers, please excuse me for being so forward. My name is Frederick Prichard, you can call me Rick."<br />
<br />
"Thank you for holding the door, Mr. Prichard, but the AC will escape," she smiled politely. "Did you want to speak with me?"<br />
<br />
"Well, yes," Rick released the door after another customer had entered. "There is a park just up the way, may i have some of your time?"<br />
<br />
"I don't know... i have an appointment in" she twisted her elbow up just enough to look at her watch while keeping the coffee upright "oh my God, i'm late already. Maybe we can talk another time, Mr. Prichard?"<br />
<br />
"An appointment with Leonard Publishing, yes?" <br />
<br />
"How did you..." her voice trailed again.<br />
<br />
"My assistant let me know i could find a Miss Kathy Rogers down at the coffee shop ordering a decaf latte. And Miss Rogers, you're right on time."Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-48724971078316973462011-07-10T11:00:00.000-04:002011-07-10T11:00:29.090-04:00"free rant" - The Letter<definitely will need some re-writes><br />
~something in here describing the dad, coming home and checking his mail when he comes across this letter from his daughter~<br />
<br />
"Hi Daddy,<br />
<br />
Sorry it's been so long in writing to you. I've been thinking some things over and wanted to figure out how to express some of my thoughts and feelings from the past. <br />
<br />
There are several things that have weighed on my mind, especially recently - well in the last few years recently, that i think may have caused me to act in certain ways. Basically, while i have always had a mother complex, that somehow was coupled with an eagerness to accommodate. <br />
<br />
When you and i used to drive on the expressway, i vaguely remember conversations we used to have about the poor state of young people, world hunger and other destitute adults. These conversations always seemed to get to you where you'd pretty much break down and cry to the point where we had to pull over so you could compose yourself. <br />
<br />
Being little and seeing your parent cry would probably freak out some kids. For a time, i would get worried, mostly because i was afraid of being on the side of the road, but i thought it was my job to listen and make you feel better by being there. This apparently had a huge affect on me later on in life as i felt the need to be everyone's rock. <br />
<br />
Do you remember these conversations? i don't remember us having them that often with Sarah (sister) in the car, though i'm sure it may have happened once or twice. <br />
<br />
I don't regret having these experiences, and obviously they happened for a reason. My being, physical and emotional, was a comfort in someway and for that i am grateful. I've just been thinking about how that might have impacted me today.<br />
<br />
Now that i have a life of my own, that capacity has grown and dwindled at the same time. At 7 years old, the fears and expectations of a child are very small and external forces may take precedence. But at 32, the priorities change to put the self first. I don't think i ever reached that point. Somehow i was forever stuck in letting the external forces take priority. With some help, i'm learning to turn those odds around.<br />
<br />
In order to do that, there are some frustrations i wanted to tell you about, because it's no longer healthy (nor was it ever) to keep these feelings inside. For the sake of keeping the peace and for keeping the "smile" forever on i hid or cut off communications completely. So i will freely describe them below.<br />
<br />
I was hurt to receive your email that you whisked yourself away to Puerto Rico. Like the other times you and mommy split up, i felt you were abandoning us. Not only were you going away, but you left me in charge to take care of the family. That was all in my head because i never saw mommy as a fit to take care of anyone. So when you left for the 3rd time, i wondered why you didn't reach out to us for help. Again in my head that i thought i could have helped, in a way to comfort you - even though that's not my role."Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-89129356517509980702011-04-24T12:00:00.003-04:002011-04-24T12:05:52.824-04:00freewrite dreamHer eyes widened as she weaved backwards through the crowd. She could see white linen peeking through legs and shoulders. Step by step he was getting closer. Dark, brown eyes never left her face. his thumb flicked the hilt of his sword, readying for his move. she started to whimper to herself knowing he was after her. She couldn't tell why or what she had done to make him feel this way. all the takss at hand were completed and she did them with accuracy. but he was coming so close.<br /><br />she backed further through the crowd until she came to a wall. juast as he neared her,, sword in hand and aimed at her heart she felt a pain in her back. she looked down to see a sword coming out of her chest just as the man in front of her pierced through her clothes. she couldn't see who stabbed her from behind but it didn't matter now. there was little pain, the swords were so sharp. she only felt faint, fell to her knees and blacked out....Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-50421015527003917392010-09-05T17:08:00.002-04:002010-09-05T20:10:00.048-04:00Mystic's Way (freewrite)(no apologies, thanks, Phil :D)<br /><br />This trip was planned for months. She would finally be able to return to the Renaissance Faire after years of working too hard and burying herself to forget her problems. A car rental awaited her that morning and she happily stepped on the train.<br /><br />On her way to JFK, she took a deep breath. things were not doing so well in her life. She hated her job, this trip was going to cost her a crap load of money and she probably wouldn't get anything back because half the people cancelled on her. At one time in her life, she could hold everything together. She was the source of stability and comfort that would take over the world. Her grand scheme to rule everyone's heart over backfired and made her a servant.<br /><br />Exhaling, her shoulders slumped and she gripped her bags around her tightly. It wasn't dangerous in this part of town. She was only going from Harlem to Queens, but this was her only source of comfort. As her arms gripped, a nagging feeling in her stomach started up. She remembered the bagel she bought from a street vendor and loosened her grip.<br /><br />While the city is very convenient, sometimes traveling can get sticky. Subway and buss routes are frequently changed due to MTA's forever-going service maintenance. She was smart this time - she checked the website to make sure all her trains were running. The issue was with transferring from one line of service to another. From her house, three trains were needed. One to get downtown, one transfer to go local, then another transfer to go from Manhattan to Queens. Doesn't seem too bad unless you're waiting 15 min on a subway platform because the previous train just left.<br /><br />The sesame bagel was lightly buttered but darkened spots that covered the brown paper bag suggested otherwise. She tore pieces from the bagel and brought them to her mouth, trying to remember if she'd touched anything after leaving the house. Eating on the subway is not the most sanitary, but she was hungry and really wanted to get rid of that feeling in her stomach. About half way through the bagel, she felt a little better and let the thought slide from her mind. <br /><br />Like most new yorkers, she had an iPod with her at all times. This trip was no exception. Some japanese rock/pop idol caressed her ears as she soon forgot about her troubles and the stomach nagging disappeared. Before she knew it, she was ready to transfer to her next train. One train came right after the other and she was on her way to Queens. <br /><br />She made it to JFK via the Airtrain, a friendly reminder of the monorail from Disney World, only a little sadder. No Magic Kingdom greeted you at the end of this trip. She went downstairs to the rental car company and was greeted with a long line of people. Here she thought she was right on time for her 8:30 am appointment and now she had to wait for these people. <br /><br />Three clerks were working behind the counter, one trying to help a family of 5, another with two people with very large luggage and the last helped someone that was just waiting for her receipt. As our Harlemite waited, she was strangely serene. Normally long lines when on a schedule stresses her out, but she had her earbuds in and looked up at the flat panel TV that was shouting out a news report. New Zealand just had an earthquake. While she was going to get a bit behind schedule, these poor people had lost their houses, their communities and some their lives. She wouldn't mind waiting on line.<br /><br />Ten minutes later, she was at the front of the line waiting for the next clerk. She swore she would never go back to this company again, after the stress they brought her during a previous trip, but they had the lowest price and the minivan she was looking for. She decided to give them another chance. Once she spoke to the clerk and was handed the receipt, she was glad she did. <br /><br />The minivan sparkled in the parking spot. There was some dirt in the back, but no scratches, paint scuffs and no dings. She gave the car a once over, then took a picture of it for Facebook. With her luck, the phone would post it later that day. She was happy and didn't want to think about the troubles of her phone right now, she was going to the REN FAIRE!<br /><br />From previous experiences, she went over each feature the car had. Windshield wipers, headlights, overhead lights, audio system and mirrors. Once she had a feel for each, she looked for a way to connect her iPod to the car. As she suspected, this car had an AUX input of a 3.5mm jack. She thought this would be the case and brought her 3.5mm cord with her! She plugged in the iPod and tested the sound system - all worked well!<br /><br />Now her trek would take her out to Long Island - a trip that normally took about 1.5 hours by the LIRR, two hours by driving. From JFK, she made it to her destination in about an hour. She wasn't speeding, per se, just making good time. She picked up her passengers and they headed upstate to Tuxedo, NY to Sterling Forest.<br /><br />They made it to the fair only half an hour later than originally planned. And all this after stopping at 7-11 for snacks, Burger King for breakfast and having to dodge crazy drivers that swerved in an out of traffic. They parked in the free parking, she gave out the free tickets and they started up the hill to the faire.<br /><br />It was a tradition she started a few years ago - to try to go to the faire every year. She started it with her mom and two brothers. Her sister would have been invited, but at the time she lived farther upstate and couldn't make it. Years after they went together, but not all 5 of them together. This year, her tradition changed just a little. She took her brother's friends. She figured, they would want some space to hang out and she could go off and enjoy the faire on her own. It would be the first time she had ever done it, and something called her to do this more than ever on this day.<br /><br />They went off to do their thing and meet up with other friends that came and she headed to a place she'd want to go for years. Mystic's Way is a path in the Ren Faire filled with Tarot Card, Palm and other readers. She wanted to talk to some of them to learn more about her dreams. When she was younger she used see reality in her dreams before they happened. She also used to be able to tell who was on the phone before it was picked up. After a strained marriage and a brutal change in work environment, these abilities left her, along with her optimistic spirit and happiness. She wanted to seek out help.<br /><br />Walking to each hut, she saw readers of all kinds. Some had turbans, others had feathers, some would roll the eyes to the back of their heads as drunken tourists looked on in awe. None of these showcase dealers would do. She wanted a real person that had the talent. She rounded a corner and found a gentleman sitting with a lady, another faire worker, and she listened in.<br /><br />"And literally i come away with pains in my legs and shoulders," the young woman said. <br /><br />"Of course, it affects you physically too. You have to let it go, i come away from here exhausted," the gentleman answered.<br /><br />She pretended to read the pamphlets as they continued their conversation - she liked this guy. He knew what it was like to take on the emotional burdens of others. The strain it takes out of you. He would be great to talk to.<br /><br />They said their goodnights after a few minutes and she went back to her own booth. He looked at this new person at his stall and said,<br /><br />"How are you today?"<br /><br />"very good, trying to keep away from my Blackberry," she smiled. She could talk to this guy - he didn't pitch a sale right away. That was a good sign.<br /><br />He laughed at that. "It's so hard to stay away. Plus you have to fiddle with the damn thing just to get it to receive phone calls!"<br /><br />Bingo, she knew he would be the perfect person to talk to. They continued for a while about technology and how people are too reliant on their devices. <br /><br />"Do you do any research of any kind?" he asked her.<br /><br />"Not really, I'm in IT," she answers.<br /><br />"Oh, you look a lot more mature than that."<br /><br />"No, i'm in IT," she repeats with a chuckle. Then she realized what he heard.<br /><br />"I thought you said you were 19. I was going to say, you look GREAT for 19." They laughed together. He had honest, sad eyes. Eyes that have seen a lot in their time. They also looked a lot younger than his face.<br /><br />"I'm seeing a researcher in you. I thought maybe you had a job in research," he continued.<br /><br />"Well, i do search for answers to problems all day..."<br /><br />They continued the small talk and he asked her to come in and sit down. He was emotionally drained from the week and was not planning on seeing anyone else, so he had some time to talk. <br /><br />She tried her hardest not to wear her heart on her psychological sleeve, but her body language betrayed her. Having someone know how you feel without you saying it is something she's always wanted. That higher connection always made her a good girlfriend, a good wife. She could tell what was needed and provided it, without being asked. This also tended to spoil her partner because they didn't ask for what they needed - so if something was missed on her part, there was a lack of communication and an argument or insecurity ensued. <br /><br />He could see she was unhappy and forever worrying. She was a worrier and that caused her to miss opportunities that could help further her life. This energy was building up with such intensity that she could go insane and she was almost at the point already. <br /><br />School was a possible door opener. It wasn't clear on how it would appear in her life, but somehow, a class or school of some type would lead to an opportunity that would help her to get out of the sadness. She also wasn't sure of what she wanted to do with her life. This led to the worrying and became an obstacle to her happiness. <br /><br />Another recurring issue was a problem and she confirmed that her ex was still trying to contact her. He suggested that she take a firm action to stop this as it was on the verge of stalking. They spoke for a while about the cases he gets in where women want a better life but refuse to stop going to men that treat them badly. She felt sorry for those women, she was in that situation, not nearly as bad as beating or physical abuse, but she knew what it was to be mentally hurt. That's when he suggested there was a huge event that happened in the past that is causing most of the stress in her life. Something that she hasn't let go just yet. She was confused at this, because her previous relationship was seen as one huge event but then something struck a chord. It could have been the first time they argued and she realized at that time she shouldn't be with him. Or it could have been the incident of so many years ago where her very womanhood was in question. <br /><br />He sensed a spirituality in her as well, asked if she did yoga. She told him about the dreams she used to have and they discussed his past. His grandmother had the gift and he received it when he was a young child. His father tried to suppress his talent and dismissed it as nonsense. He also tried to dismiss it but his quality of life suffered. <br /><br />As for the present, he could tell that her current relationship was helping to keep herself together. There are communication issues. There was also a gap that may feel healthy, was not helping to progress the relationship further in the future. He was happy that she seemed happy, but thought she could do much better. She was the type of person that needs someone that's thoughtful and intelligent. She was a romantic and needed that from her partner as well. He wasn't seeing that in her current relationship.<br /><br />At this point she started to reflect on all that he said. He pretty much told her all that had been rolling in her head all along. She had come to the point where she realized that her partner was not capable of giving what she needed. His best was not enough. This didn't scare her, and it wasn't a surprise, but it was kind of nice to hear it from someone else. This would take some thinking. <br /><br />"You may feel comfortable now, and you may have agreed upon this space, but it's going so far in different directions, there's no chance to meet again in the future. There needs to be more of this," and he linked his hands together. "You need to be closer if this is going to move on."<br /><br />"You will also have to make some decisions soon. You may not want to, you may not think you're ready, but you must decide. If you don't make the decision, Fate will make it for you and then you won't be satisfied with the outcome." <br /><br />He continued to say that she may be unhappy with her job, but keep it for now - it wasn't easy to find another and most people didn't have what she has now. Be thankful for having work and try to figure out what she wanted from life. Most importantly, to FOCUS. Lack of focus is keeping her from having a strong career in that she enjoys. Dissatisfaction with her career renders it incomplete and the relationship cannot be mended until that stability has been established. One thing leads to another, that leads to another. <br /><br />The last point he wanted to make involved emotion. The energy that's formed from emotions is what rules the universe. When someone is upset, that energy is focused and calls for more to be gathered together. If the focus is kept on optimism, or a positive goal, it will be heard.<br /><br />"Learn to focus and speak from the heart. That's the way to healthily reroute your energy. By the way, what was your name?"<br /><br />"i go by Jean. Pleasure to meet you," she smiled and shook his extended hand.<br /><br />"It's very nice speaking with you, Jean. My name is Tom." <br /><br />She received a phone call from her brother to say they were about ready to go home. She let them know she'd only be 15 more minutes and then she'd meet them at the gate. Jean apologized to Tom and tried to wrap things up.<br /><br />He suggested a few books where she could find more information to help cultivate what talent she thought was lost. To help her focus and unwind he demonstrated some breathing techniques she could do every day. Lastly, he told her a trick on helping her remember dreams.<br /><br />"Let me know how the school thing goes - let me know how it comes into play."<br /><br />"I will!" she said as she walked back toward the faire's entrance.<br /><br />Her brother and his friends had a great time at the faire and were tired and ready to go home. They met at the front gate, walked back down to the car and headed out on the road. After a quick I-Hop stop for dinner they all got home safely.<br /><br />Jean returned the car and made her way to t he Airtrain Terminal. She felt fulfilled knowing she has some new things to think about. This turned her away from worry and suddenly she realized there was a quicker way home - an opportunity presented itself. She knew she made the right choice with Tom. She was beginning a new path in her life, one that put her first.Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-10625344725293065812010-08-02T23:18:00.004-04:002010-09-16T23:26:50.777-04:00freewrite"you don't have to let go..." she heard through the pounding in her ears. "you can control it!"<br /><br />"I can't... it's too much for me to handle!" she screamed from several feet above.<br /><br />Ending it all now would solve several problems. She could destroy the next hundred square miles with ease. Flying higher she scoped the area. Several towns would perish if she unleashed this terror. Clenched fists blazed with an internal fire she called upon in times of need. Slowly her knees pulled into her chest and she raised her arms to cross them before her face. All she had to do was conjure up the energy. <br /><br />The tears wouldn't stop, even though her eyes were closed. She could feel the wet drips roll down her cheeks until the fire kissed them away. Each flame flickered up in response to her anxiety. They fed on her anger and fear which could fuel them far longer than oxogen. <br /><br />She opened her eyes and saw him below. He was crying too, but not out of fear, out of compassion. He didn't want to see her hurting, he didn't want the flames to wipe away her tears. That was his job. He held his hands out to her and she could feel his love. Not only in his eyes, she felt his very soul reaching out to her own. <br /><br />Lowering her hands, legs and body temperature, the flames receded. She wasn't ready to meet him just yet - this was a defeat in her eyes. She looked at him one last time and shot into the sky leaving a trail of energy behind her like a shooting star...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />(sorry - several different storylines all mixed into one. still trying to figure out my own style. and don't be worries about the subject.... there are lots of scenes i've been meaning to write about and some of them are dark and scary, others silly and light)<br /><br />^_^Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-28059528219067833042010-08-01T23:27:00.004-04:002010-08-01T23:36:21.367-04:00freewrite (thanks to sorcerer's apprentice)she stepped up out of the mouth of the subway. a gust of wind splashed her face with a few raindrops of the finishing storm. it was a refreshing chill after being in the stifling heat underground.<br /><br />her pace was slower than normal due to a growing headache. each footstep pounded her skull so she padded lightly on the cracked sidewalk. at least the rain was helping cool off her head.<br /><br />she reached the street corner and her book bag started to vibrate. it was either a text or a voicemail, she thought, until it kept going. a smile slipped across her face as she tried to guess the caller and as she pulled the phone out of her bag the smile faded. <br /><br />i really don't want to write about that - it's an unhappy subject and while my mind requires me to write about it i refuse to :(<br /><br />not tonight.Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-37763224320615487132010-07-24T23:35:00.003-04:002010-07-25T00:38:14.345-04:00freewritei have energy and i need to write now when i have a chance. it's amazing how the city can take on so many faces when your mood changes. i've seen at least 10 different types of beautiful - the kind that makes you cry, the kind you see from crying, a greener kind when i'm happy, blues when i'm sad... wah don't like where that sentence was going.<br /><br />maybe i should try dr. wicked's lab. nah, i'm doing okay writing so far, just nothing with substance. i'll figure something out.<br /><br /><br />it always came back to the red door. she couldn't stop thinking about what happened that day. <br /><br /><br />wow... i was about to write a part 2 to <a href="http://wyntirtale.blogspot.com/2008/11/red-door.html">this</a> but i feel like i can't write better than i did then.... scratch that. Here goes nothing...<br /><br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br /><br />...my feet stumbled forward and i was standing beyond the gate. with my next breath, my hand was caressing the painted wood. and as i exhaled, the door closed behind me.<br /><br />it was dark inside. my eyes were still used to the brightness of the morning but my nose led the way. i followed the faint smell of bacon and cinnamon toast and headed down a hall of some kind. It was long and narrow and i held my hands out for additional guidance. no furniture or paintings were here, but there was a small molding about half way up. if i knew more about architecture, i could describe it better. ornate gargoyles bit at my fingers about every five steps. by the time i made it to the end of the hall, my eyes could see what was around me.<br /><br />the hall i just went down was a service entrance. it was wide, but meant only for transporting goods. arrows just beyond the red door were painted on the wall, directing where each item should go: to the right, food and pantry items, to the left, furniture and linens and up the stairs - clothing. there were sconces above me, but you'd need a ladder to get to them. flameless candles stood atop each metal platform and offered light when used. no electricity was present in this part of the house. <br /><br />finding all i could, i turned to continue down the hall, then came across a heavy velvet curtain. Just as i reached out to pull it aside a knocking sound came from the wall. i froze in horror, thinking for the first time i've invaded someone's house. what if i was found? how could i explain my trespassing? Maybe if i could just get a little farther into the house. the smell of bacon was much stronger on this side of the hallway, perhaps the kitchen was near?<br /><br />i pulled the curtain aside and was greeted by an empty home library. Bookshelves lined every wall and even framed an old TV set in it's wooden box. dainty furniture was placed just right for conversation, but didn't look all that comfortable to sit in. A victrola sat in one corner with it's matching records on the bookshelf just behind it. a door to her left was closed and dark from beneath but a door straight ahead was wide open, sunlight pouring in. this room had no windows, as if to protect the books from sun exposure. she'd love to return and see what books were on each shelf, maybe on her way out.<br /><br />(some how i suddenly turned to the third person... i think i might end up doing that for the story, since it seems to come naturally. but i'll return to telling my story again - sorry about that :D)<br /><br />As i got to the middle of the room i heard another sound from behind the bookshelf. it was similar to a rat trying to escape quickly from a predator since the movements were quick and sporadic. i froze each time i heard the noise until it seemed to stop. i went on to the next room.<br /><br />this looked like a bedroom as it had several antique dressers but the bed was missing. i took a look at each to see the cracking paint and remembered a time when i was invited to the CEO's house as part of the new employee hiring welcome. his house included several dated pieces, which i thought was silly to have since they were all cracked and looked broken. this type of furniture seemed to fit in this place though. it didn't look as if someone placed it here - but as if it just belonged. a whispering call asked me to touch it, to see if it was real and my fingers obliged. the cracked paint didn't crumble under my hand but seemed to welcome my touch. "love me" it called out, "we've been incredibly lonely."<br /><br />i pulled back a bit, as my heart felt a twinge of pain. everything here was a bit sad. something or someone was missing and this place wasn't complete until that thing was found. i moved onto another piece that was set into the wall. Only the drawers and doors stood out from the wallpaper. i pulled on one drawer but nothing happened. maybe it was stuck so i pulled a little harder. After a third pull, i gave up on that drawer. I tried another just beneath it and that one took the entire draw panel right off. now i've destroyed someone's property. what should i do now, i thought. <br /><br />worry didn't have enough time to set in. As i tried to put the drawer face back, i noticed that behind the face panel i removed was a richly colored wood panel. . i knocked and the panel was solid wood. there was no way a real drawer could fit in there. so i followed the wall to see where the door might lead. it was a wall that jutted out just beyond the bathroom. it sectioned off the room for what looked like function of a dresser, but only the face was implemented. As i went around to the back of the wall, i could see a shoddy cover-up of a door to what must have been a building structure some years ago. (i'll really have to work this one out to get what's in my head on paper)<br /><br />following that wall and the bad cover up, i heard a rustling, just like the knocking earlier. I looked over to find a staircase that was sectioned off by baby safety gates. paper was moving around on it's own and when i moved in closer, i found a small grey monkey trying to get up to see me. this grey monkey was familiar as i knew it's owner. but to think i'd be in his house.... i held my breath and listened to the heavy footsteps making their way down the stairs...Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-66333138061384887202010-06-04T23:08:00.003-04:002010-06-04T23:45:13.571-04:00need to get out of my head....she ran. she had to run away from it. the thing that clouded her mind, her every waking moment. had to get away. she closed her eyes and slowed to a stop. her hands rose to her face as her knees gave out. the tears came.<br /><br />where was she? she couldn't open her eyes. the effort seemed too much. all energy she had was used to banish the thoughts that threatened to suffocate her. was she still standing? no, she could feel the cold wet concrete through the seat of her jeans. <br /><br />it could have been hours or seconds that she sat there and fought off the images and assumptions. time was not recognized. there was one phrase, one feeling she was trying to protect. <br /><br />"am i being treated fairly?" it sounded hollow if she said it aloud. keeping it in her head didn't give it enough importance. had the past really screwed up her point of perception? she wasn't sure if she was capable of enjoying something at face value any more. <br /><br />a smile or kind gesture was used to prepare her for a truth that was not easy to tell. a caress was forced by an external stimulant. complements only meant something was wrong. was she wrong for thinking this way, no - this was what she did to mask her true feelings.<br /><br />when she was little, she was honest and blunt, inconsiderate to how her words affected other people. it took her several painful lessons to see that some thoughts are better kept in her head. not everyone wants to know how you feel. sometimes people just like to have someone listen. she learned well and started to keep her thoughts to herself.<br /><br />as she closed her thoughts up, she started to become self conscious. all the ideas started to fill her head and it became very crowded. she started to internalize the feelings she had toward others and didn't want anyone to know what she was thinking. once and a while she opened up to tell someone an honest idea and she was laughed at. this made her close up even more.<br /><br />people became objects to judge on sight so she knew how to protect herself. no one would ever be let inside. she would be safe so long as she kept a distance from all around her. she didn't need them anyway.<br /><br />(wah... got hungry, got frosted flakes and lost the rhythm... maybe will finish later :P )Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-76941788213724728842010-05-03T23:17:00.003-04:002010-05-03T23:40:22.888-04:00nyc writing (Harlem's Hollowed History)inspired was i by a walk down 137th street.<br />castles past their prime stared down at me with curious eyes.<br />'would she see us, would she care' they cried to each other.<br /><br />i touched the wet bricks that water wore away.<br />some would claim the pipes had leaked, but i knew this damage.<br />these buildings had seen better days, the grooves were from tears.<br /><br />in a time long ago and sadly forgotten, this used to be a kingdom.<br />grand lords and ladies danced in each hall and celebrated life like none other.<br />oppression couldn't reach them here, or so they thought.<br /><br />the tides rolled in and things changed for the worst.<br />living became a burden and the kingdom was slowly fading from sight.<br />each proud building was left to deteriorate like their spirit of celebration.<br /><br />the wonder of how things were consumes me.<br />there is a hunger for knowledge of the past while trying to preserve it in the present.<br />just think of all that could have been offered if the celebration always continuedMarjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-4563961779614266192010-04-30T00:09:00.003-04:002010-04-30T00:20:31.571-04:00midnight freewritei know i should be sleeping but i felt i should write. it's been so long since i've wirtten a story that i feel it's time to put something on paper. i could also be because i'm reading this good book called "a children's story" pleas eforgive me for for forgetting the writer - i'll look it up later and maybe comment on it.<br /><br />so i was thiking about a story that welnt something like thiss.....<br /><br />wah, this freewrite is not coming out how i want it. i have to exercise this muscle - it's terribly weak again and makes me want to cry. my wants and needs are so spread out it's hard to focus on just one thing. there's so much fear i'll miss out on something that i tend to do a little of everything insteadof a lot of one thing.<br /><br />the stories are constant in my head. every face i pass has a story, every building, every crack in the sidewalk. my city calls out to me begging for it's story to be told. but not the one you see at barnes and noble. not the one you read about at the library. the very soul of my city calls out for the true story to be told. <br /><br />i'm saddened because i feel i'm not up to the task. but she calls out to mek, every night i pass through her neighborhoods. I can see her - in the child that waved hello on the subway and smiled, he needs life on paper. a story must be written about every thing every living being. <br /><br />my timeis plentiful and there are enough stories to write in a lifetime and more. only how to start. poems, short stories, not ever a novel - that would be too presumptuous. it must be in the style one experiences. fleeting moments and carefree passes through the hall. that is how i'd tell her story.Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-21648545073258419402010-02-04T23:40:00.003-05:002010-02-05T00:37:35.334-05:00endless love is so clichéHe could see the faint glow of the moon's reflection just over the trees. The lake must be beautiful, he thought. Stars twinkled down to show him the way through the Pines and Firs as his steps quickened. This time he was away for too long.<br /><br />It wasn't a far walk to the lake and he thought it best to leave Cassie behind. Her hooves would make too much noise along the path. Not that he needed to be quiet in these parts, but disturbing the silence didn't feel right. At his best, his boots whispered along the dirt path. She wouldn't mind, though. It was his way of telling her, "i'm coming...soon."<br /><br />The last tree cleared and he dropped to his knees. There, on the lake, was the moon's reflection. While it's luminance lit up the area, it was not the source of the light shone over the trees. His hand trembled as he reached out to a figure in the water. <br /><br />"Forgive my absence. It's been far too long since..."<br /><br />"Hush, my love," her voice danced to his ears. "You're here now. Come to me."<br /><br />He stood, eyes fixated on the light in the lake. One foot after another he was drawn to her. She called him and he obeyed. As he neared the lake's edge his eyes adjusted to the light. Little by little her form materialized. The outer curves of her shoulders were the first he noticed. Their width were matched by her round full hips. Next he could see the back of her head trailing with a braid that draped over one shoulder. <br /><br />She turned to face him with puffy eyes and arms crossed. While her voice could hide any trouble she was having, her body could not.<br /><br />"I had a terrible dream," she began. "You became sick and died. Nothing i did, nothing i tried could help you get better. There was nothing i..." her voice trailed off. <br /><br />He moved in closer and listened.<br /><br />"I couldn't help you. I couldn't save you. I was hurt that my time with you was so short," her arms grew heavy and fell to her sides. She dropped her head and continued "Nothing... all the love that i had wasn't enough to save you. i couldn't keep you with me."<br /><br />His hand rose up to caress her cheek as a warm tear rolled down his fingers.<br /><br />"I'm here now, we have this moment. Let's not waste this precious time we have together," he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. <br /><br />"My love for you i so deep i cannot love another if we should part. I want you to know, until your last breath that i have always loved you. I don't want you to feel that you were ever alone," she mumbled into his shoulder. <br /><br /><hr><br /><br />(grrr.... somehow this didn't turn out how i wanted it to.... perhaps i'll revisit. she was supposed to be the strong one professing her love - but maybe that's just too mushy :P)Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-28505211917321003822010-01-24T01:42:00.003-05:002010-01-24T01:50:06.682-05:00freewrite. romanceis it really meant only for books?<br />for women to fill it in their head through fairy tales and movies?<br />this one thing thought of from someone's head.<br />romance<br /><br />maybe i'm just overcome with emotion.<br />seeing other people's feelings - how easily it gets to me.<br />why do i share what they experience.<br />empathy.<br /><br />just fiddling around with some verses... think i'm too tired to write. have to start practicing that muscle again.Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9327558.post-24631873763389321122010-01-11T23:06:00.000-05:002010-01-11T23:07:59.387-05:00freewrite - first of 2010this is my writing exercise for the night. let's see what i can dig up from my head.<br /><br />she closes her eyes and notices her fingers start to fly. she's no longer sitting on a bed, but on a toadstool. it's large, similar to the one from Alice and Wonderland, but it's colored in the bright orange and red most known from Super Mario Brothers. She can almost hear each item around her being pixellated. First the toadstool goes to 256 colors, the orange turning more into a yellow and it feels a bit rigid under her bottom. the pillows that are next to her turn into two goombas, silently pacing back and forth between two green pipes. the dolls that were on her bed become the vine plants coming up from the pipes. she's turning her room into a video game.<br /><br />HA... the ceiling is made up of flashing gold boxes, their question marks teasing and calling her to knock them over to see what's inside. she does to find a growing vine that leads up to the clouds. now she feels blocky as she stands in one motion and looks down at the plumber pants she's wearing. She deftly climbs the vine to find a world full of coins and clouds. They look so high but as she reaches up her legs can't help but jump to grab them. Now she's flying through the air and wait... there's a tail behind her. She can wiggle a bit and get ever so higher. More coins, she laughs.<br /><br />her eyes open and suddenly she's back in her bedroom. the pillows are neatly at the top of her bed and the dolls lay where they have been next to her. she looks around and is happy she's not in a video game. where would she sleep? were there any bathrooms in the level? what would happen if she really fell down the well - could she just start again at the beginning? things she never really thought of, it's just a game after all.<br /><br />how would she feel if she stepped on the goombas and they disappeared. would she feel remorse for killing something, even if it was an enemy. all good questions and none she'd care to think about while playing the game. why would someone purposefully make you think about reality in a simple game as that. the whole point is the take your mind off the drama of every day, right? she's very happy she has video games to escape to, but it's also nice to know there's a soft bed waiting for her at the end of the day.<br /><br />and to totally switch topics, she wants a nice garden that will hold all the veggies she'd cook with. if it were up to her it would be nice to have a farm - work hard, have real troubles. she's starting to feel like the troubles she has are made up or could be prevented. it's not like she's fighting Bowser to save the life of the Princess. she's fighting off bill collectors and rent responsibilities. but one thing is for sure... <removed to protect the innocent!> hahahaa.<br /><br />that last line might be omitted for the sake of my job. ha... to think that i can't speak my mind because the internet has made the world a much smaller place. yes, i think i will remove that last line - maybe i'll make it my facebook status. no one would understand if it was out of context. sometimes i do wish i could be in a video game - but not really. just have the chance to go someplace different. to see new things and not have to worry about the money that must be spent doing it. i want to learn for the sake of learning. guess i'll have to stick to books and the library. that's the only real way to do anything for free anymore. <br /><br />guess i just, i don't know- i'm very lucky. i'm able to have my own place and have enough money to help my family when the need is there and to still enjoy life a bit. it's not that i really want more for me... i just want more so i can help the people around me. guess my time is almost up and now i can watch the time tick by. if i were writing an essay, i'd say there was no way i could pound out 800 words in about 15 minutes. But look at me know. There's 800 with 45 seconds to go. seems it's all a state of mind. i could probably get to 1000 if i wanted to. seems there are so many things we're all capable of but we just don't have the want to do it. the Will is there if you cultivate it. you just have to want it.<br /><br /><a href="http://writeordie.drwicked.com/"><img src="http://drwicked.com/progress.php?words=862&goal=50000" /></a>Marjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13890136593980607735noreply@blogger.com2