When I first saw NaNoWriMo I said huh? It stands for National Novel Writing Month. I may have seen it before, must have, considering I’ve been dipping my toes in the writing waters for years. And yet, I never checked it out before this year despite it being over 10 yrs old. Call me chicken. This year I decided to take the plunge and sign up. Tonight marks the first meet and greet and I’m excited to see if I can pull off writing 50,000 words in a month. Anyone interested in writing should check it out!
It had been a dubious affair, the light stain on the bed forewarning. How many had gone before? How many had he called his amour? She had known. The little voice had told her all the gory details. Protector of mind, body, heart, it spoke the truth even when she chose not to hear. Nor had she paid any heed to the claw marks grooved by time along the oaken bedposts. Not when his eyes roamed and ravished. Or when he claimed what she freely gave. Right up until the end, she would have sworn the pain enhanced the pleasure.
I am stepping out of the darkness, from the tomb that has enshrined me for far too long. The cocoon I made to keep me safely tucked away is old and worn. Not needed. I emerge… A butterfly, yet to test her wings. Embracing the light. Transforming on the winds of the Earth and transcending to the Heavens above, one of the Universe’s creatures, loved and protected. The shell of my former self, the lowly caterpillar has played its part, kept me safe and warm during my long sleep. Awake and free from earthly bounds I shed the excess, leaving it behind to mark my journey. Imprisoned by shackles for a crime I did not commit, I am free again to explore… A prisoner to Continue Reading →
Buster was dying. The lady on the phone was not helping. Aggie cried frustrated sobs in the background as the dog heaved and gasped for breath. Samantha fought back her own tears, felt herself choking on the words, “Help me.” She didn’t dare glance backward. “Please. You have to help me save him.” Only now did she peek across her shoulder at the loves of her life. “I’m sorry. I can only advise you to take him to the nearest emergency vet.” “He won’t make it and you know it!” Shaky fingers angrily brushed back wayward strands of blond hair that blurred her vision. Not that she needed her eyes to see the image of her daughter kneeling over Buster. His chest rising in labored Continue Reading →
Sitting here picking flowers I whittle away the hours Another day of dusk till dawn Restless sleep and waking yawns Reaching for what is not there Nothing to hold, you left me bare. So I sit at night on grass and dew Trying not to cry and stew As I hide here in the dark Waiting for death to hit his mark Change this setting, change the sun This realism is a bullet in the gun.
There are words that save your life: stop, duck, run. Short words easily understood. Their action implied. We generally have no problem with these. It is the words ignored, whose sentiments are often times repeated in music listened to, movies watched and books read. They glare accusingly as if from universal billboard signs trying to get our attention. We cannot escape them as they pour from the mouths of friends, loved ones, teachers, and adversaries. Messages we choose to embrace or ignore. In them we may find a road map, inspiration or a reminder. These words can save your life.
Her thoughts bled out in a vacuous descent. “He’s gone?” “Gone.” Erica waited for it to sink in. How long had her sister known him? Not that it mattered, she never thought before jumping and once again the proof was the empty expression on her face. “Nah.” Eve waved her hand before her as though the word held the power to wipe away the action. She had planned – past tensed – to make them dinner. A cozy retreat from the world, cuddled on the couch with a bottle of wine and some old romantic movie she knew by heart.