October 2006 Submissions

Monthly Submissions

When The Smoke Clears...
By FlaIsleGirl@aol.com
 
 
 
     A thin trail of smoke snaked its way up to the olive colored ceiling. It warbled when it finally reached the top. Tin Ears was proud of what he had done.
    "Man, hey man, is that the best you can do?"  Snake Eyes rolled up his sleeves as he drew a long puff on his cigarette. "You smoke like a girl, man!"
    With that, he blew from his mouth a large impressive ring of smoke that warped as it floated in the air.
    "Now.......that's a real smoke!"  Tin Ears looked away as Snake Eyes began to cough..."Yea, and you sound like you practiced that a lot!"  Tin Ears was worried about the way his brother coughed and wheezed.
     Tin Ears came here often to just talk with his brother. Funny how they had acclaimed the nicknames of Snake Eyes and Tin Ears. Snake Eyes was the eldest of the two, and with his green, beady eyes, and  his ability to search for and get what he wanted, attained for him the name "Snake Eyes."  "Tin Ears" was so named, because he had the ability to only hear what he wanted to hear, and tune the rest out. 
    "You ever smoke, you know, chit, man? You know the stuff. Weed." Snake Eyes was looking up toward the ceiling. It appeared to Tin Ears that Snake Eyes was tiring of the tobacco, and wanted more.  He couldn't turn a deaf ear to what he had heard, because he knew that his brother, true to his name, would get it if he wanted it.
     "Now, don't tell a soul, but I picked up some.  Look..."  He drew a long, slender roll from his jean pocket. He rolled his green eyes with delight as he licked it.  "Now, this will make you feel the way you want to!"
       "Here...try some..." But Tin Ears said no, and looked away with disgust as his brother wallowed in the smokey treasure. Well, he would not hear of it!  No he would not smoke such a thing!
       After Snake Eyes finished a few more of the weeds, he was quite mellowed out. He looked up at the ceiling and what was the former ring of smoke he had blown, now looked to him like a hole in the ceiling.  He grabbed his brother, trembling and shaking with fright. 
     "Man, hey man, I must have got some bad chit!"  What was the ceiling to him, now resembled a hole, and a priest was standing over it, saying a prayer for the dead. It was his funeral! People were looking into the hole at him, crying.  His cousins, his friends, his aunts, all were looking at him and crying as the priest said prayers, and sprinkled holy water.
 
      "Man, hey Man!  I'm dyin' man...." Tin Ears chose not to listen to his brother's irrational mutterings as he looked up to the ceiling. He saw nothing but the dull olive color it was.  "There's nothing, its just the ceiling."
 
   He held his brother, and took the weed from his pockets and threw them on the ground and stomped on them.  He was angry!  His ears were ringing with the sounds of his brother screaming that he was dying.
 
      "WAKE UP! Wake up!"  He yelled. Snake Eyes rolled his eyes and fell limp to the floor. He had died.
 
         Suddenly the door burst opened, the smoke started to clear from the room.  Mother came in. "Wake up! Wake up!  Is everything ok?" 
 
       Tin Ears sat up in bed and saw Snake Eyes and his mother at his bedside.  OH MY!  It had all been a dream!!   He had dreampt the whole thing!  He sighed a big sigh of relief as Snake Eyes came closer to his bed, and said, "Gee, man, you really had a nightmare!"  Tin Ears listened to his brother, and was glad that he was ok. He saw his brother looking intently at him with his piercing green eyes. .."I really was worried about you!"
        
       "Jake," he said, calling his brother by his real name for once, as he trembled from the dream, " Promise me that you will never ever smoke a cigarette!
         Jake looked at the pile of blankets and pillows on the floor and said, "Sure, Tom, if you promise me you will never eat sauerkraut before bed again!  It gave you one bad nightmare!"  
        Mother just shook her head as she picked up the bed clothes and rearranged the room. Looking up at the ceiling she said jokingly, " I may have to put a hole in this ceiling to let all of this hot air out that you two are generating here."
         Tin Ears chose not to listen to those words as he fell back to sleep. Snake Eyes just rolled his eyes, and closed the door
Signs
 
Maybe we shouldn’t have smoked that doobie.
Do you see what I see?
Man, what are you on?
I’m not shitting you, just look up!
 
OK, I see the ceiling.
I’m really freaking now.
Geese, what is spooking you?
Look, dude, if you don’t see what I see - that’s the first thing!
 
Amuse me, I gotta finish this ciggy anyway.
OK, there’s your sister and brother looking down here
only we are like, it’s like they are looking down from a open grave
at us!  Oh, there is a priest giving last rights, too.
 
Man, what are you taking?  You are creeping me out big time!
How did you know I was Catholic anyway?
I didn’t but I’ve seen that on TV and now I see it right up there!
Hell, I don’t see nothin’!
 
Oh yeah, there’s a eagle circling around
and the sky is all gray and there are no leave on the trees
so I guess it’s like late fall.
But this is spring.
 
Maybe it is some kind of sign.
Yeah right, there gonna bury us in the fall.
Nope, just you.  I ain’t Catholic and as of right now
this is my last cigarette.  Later.
 

by Margaret C. Rigsby
10/10/06

 

My Mark on the World

by Meredith Rothenberg © October 29, 2006

 

Life ain’t fair and everybody knows it.  It ain’t written in stone or nothin’ but everyone knows it’s true.  It’s what they call a “universal truth”.

 

See this door here?  It’s a freaking bloody mess.  Cops come first and usually there’s a body, alive or dead don’t matter, they come to find out what happened and who did it.  Then the crime scene guys come.  It’s their job to find out how it was done, what ever ‘it’ is that day.

 

If they find the perp, if they don’t, if they have a trial or don’t, sooner or later they do what is called “release the scene”, which is just a fancy way of sayin’ they don’t need to comeback, they got all they need.

 

Now here’s the real kick in the pants, all of them cops, detectives, crime scene guys comin’ in and out of your home and do any of them clean up the mess?  No.  They leave the cleanin’ up to the home owner, like they haven’t suffered enough right?  Like moppin’ up their loved one’s blood and all that black finger printing dust is their idea of a good time.  Well it ain't.  That’s where I come in.  My name’s Carl and I clean up crime scenes.  The problem now is, that’s my blood down there and without me there to help her, my wife’s a wreck.

 

Look at her down there in the dark, curled up on my old lazy boy like a baby in its mother’s arms.  She ain't moved since she got back from the hospital.  That’s her sister there on the couch, same banana curls in her naturally auburn hair, same green eyes, just two years age difference between ‘em, my Sara bein’ the younger one.

 

“Come on Sara, please, you’ve got to eat, its been five days!  Carl would never want you to be doing this to yourself.” Joanne is right, if I was there… well it don’t matter what I’d do if I were there, I’m stuck here, in limbo.  That ain’t right neither.  I seen Ghost, yeah you heard right, I’m secure enough in my manhood to admit I saw the occasional chick flick with my girl, and what I’m goin’ through ain't nothin’ like that movie.

 

No sittin’ close and watchin’ her, no spookin’ the cat, no affectin’ the real world, none of that.  I’m sittin’ up here kinda like on the roof lookin’ down on her, stuck in this damned room.  It’s more like them ghost stories you hear about where someone dies in a place and they haunt it, but so far it don’t seem like I can do any hauntin’ either.  Just sittin’, and watchin’, no takin’ part in the events.

 

I guess it’s kinda like my life.  Always seein’ what happened but never doing nothin’.  At least when I was alive I cleaned up after those who did stuff, here I can’t even do that.  I guess death ain't anymore fair then life was.

 

Maybe that’s why I’m stuck here like this.  I didn’t leave any mark in life to say “I was here, and this is what I done”.  I didn’t leave squat for people to remember me by.  Sure Sara will remember me, but after a while I’ll fade out of her mind, not completely, but not enough of me will stay there to make a difference.  Guess I wasn’t good or bad enough to go to heaven or hell so I’m stuck here in this room.  That’s gonna suck.

 

The phone’s ringing again, she won’t answer it, too many callers, it’s overwhelming my poor Sara, they just won’t leave her alone.  At first it was mostly friends and family, but now it’s the vultures, news reporters wanting a byline.  They want to know if the guy who the cops caught is someone we know, an enemy of mine, a lover of hers.  Damned soulless bastards, they should rot in hell.  Joanne answers as usual since “that day”.  I’m sure glad she came down.  They were real close ‘till Jo moved to Philly cause of Grant’s job.  Grant’s  an ok fella’ too, they got three kids and he didn’t give Jo grief about leavin’ them with him, not wanting to stress out Sara anymore than she already is.  He knows Sara’s been on infertility meds for just about a year and has been really down about it lately, he prolly didn’t want to shove the kids in her face, reminding her about what else she don’t got other than me.

 

“Sara, it’s Manny, he wants to know if its ok for him to come over in ten minutes?”  Manny was my partner.  I’m glad its gonna be him, not another stranger in our house like she’s been gettin’ all week.

 

“Yeah,” Sara had to say because Joanne didn’t see her nod.

 

I’m glad the mess will be cleaned up soon.  She won’t leave my lazy boy and that means she’s in here with all this shit, and I know it don’t smell good.  The cops caught the guy just under two days after it happened and the CSI guys got him nailed to the scene hard, there won’t be any doubt in the jury, I made sure of that.  Knowin’ what I do about how all this stuff works I knew that the guy had to leave evidence, and lots of it.  I pulled out some of his hair, fought back hard enough to split his lip and leave his blood, all kinds of stuff like that.  If I was gonna go down, I was gonna make damned sure everyone was clear who did it.  This mornin’ they “released the scene”.

 

Another damned phone call, why wont they leave my Sara alone?  Joanne to the rescue again, “Sara, honey, you should take this call.”  Joanne wouldn’t let just anyone through so Sara agrees and takes the receiver from her.

 

After a quick greeting Sara gets silent, listening to who ever it is on the other end.  I can’t hear who it is and it pisses me off cause I can hear my girl gasp.  Damn it Baby!  I’m so sorry I ain’t there for you.  If I wasn’t already dead, seein’ her go through all this woulda killed me.  No! Oh God!  Baby don’t cry!

 

She’s lookin’ at Joanne in the strangest way and without another word hangs up the phone slowly.  I don’t think I ever seen that look before.

 

“I’m pregnant!” She whispers, “We did it JoJo!  Carl and I finally got pregnant!”

 

She, she, my God!  My girl’s pregnant!  I’m gonna be a daddy!  Wait.  No.  I ain’t gonna be there, my kid won’t have a father.

 

“Oh JoJo!  I can hardly believe it.  Just when I thought I’d lost every thing of Carl, I get this wonderful gift, a miracle, our baby!”  She looks up at the ceiling, just like she sees me, but she can’t, can she?  “Oh Carl, I love you so much, I miss you so much.  But I’ll make you proud!  I promise!  I’ll tell stories of you every day so our baby will know you.”

 

I love and miss you too Sara, you’ll be a wonderful Mother, the best ever.

 

Look at them huggin’, I know she’d rather be huggin’ me, but I can see now I ain't gonna fade out of her life, she ain’t gonna forget me, and I did leave somethin’ good behind after all.

 

Manny’s here, I’d know that “shave and a haircut” knock anywhere.  This is great, in a few hours Sara will have the gore of my death out of her life and she can start fresh, hopefully rememberin’ all the good times we had.

 

He’s havin’ the girls leave, says it’s bad for them to breathin’ the chemicals we use to clean up, and its true, but the real reason we make ‘em leave is so they don’t gotta watch the blood comin up.  I swear I don’t know how the two of ‘em sat in that room with the smell, but Sara wouldn’t give up my chair, I guess she traded smell for the need to be close t’ me.

 

They head out, prob’ly to their mom’s, and Manny brings in the equipment then gets in the space suit, it’s really just a sterile jumpsuit that keeps us clean while we work, but it looks like somethin’ they’d wear on the space shuttle.  Workin’ with blood ain’t safe see.  He knows my blood is clean, we get tested every 6 months to be sure, but he also knows not all the blood here is mine.

 

I’m startin’ to feel funny, the fact that I’m feelin’ anything at all is weird too.  Peace, calm, even joy.  I can’t explain it but I feel so much better about everythin’.

 

I see Manny washin’ up my blood.  I thought for sure I was stuck in that room for good, but I guess I ain’t.  How’s this happenin’?

 

It’s him!  Manny!  His cleanin’ is releasin’ me, lettin’ my soul drift up and away.

 

Here I thought I wasted my life, cleanin’ up after people who did things in life, but now I know the truth.  I released souls who were stuck in limbo because of their sudden violent deaths.  I helped so many souls!  I can feel them all, I am becomin’ part of them.

 

My beautiful love Sara, I’ll watch over you and our child, but now it’s time for me to rest in peace.

A Smoker's Funeral

I'm staring through skin. My skin. I can see stagnant puddles of
embalming fluid lying on the floor of my veins - the veins that creep
across the inside of your eyelids. This is the skin I am staring
through.

I cannot feel my own body, but I know that I am enclosed somewhere. A
tight place, dark and solid. If this is what I think it is, I am in a
box. The Box. My casket.

I have no feeling in my limbs or torso. I can sense the cold of the
ground around me, but again, I do not feel. What a strange
sensation.

What is today? Friday. I am supposed to be a work right now. What
has brought me to this place, this prison I am in?

I look through the skin of my eyes and see a crowd above me. My
friends and family, crying in their sorrow. I can hear the voice of
the pastor, sounding out the words of Scripture; speaking platitudes
to the ears of those around me. I can hear him calm the weeping and
comfort those who mourn. I can hear him say my name, in the name of
Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

I try to breathe, but of course I cannot. I can feel my lungs lying
flat in my chest and remember the burn that used to reside there.
Ah! That is the answer. The burn and the tar, the smoke and the fire
that was trapped beneath the muscles of my chest, unable to escape to
higher winds. I am here because of my own choices. My own foolish
pride and the desire to fit in. I am here because I am ... was,
addicted.

I suppose that is no longer a problem I'll be facing. The addiction
and the need to fill my breath with smoke. No longer can I fill that
need. No longer is that dank, dark breath an option.

I am here, lying in this box, staring through closed eyes at the wet
faces of my loved ones, because I am foolish. Because I did not care
enough. Because I could not quit.

By: Sarah Long
Total words: 351

~ Ashes to Ashes ~
 
Ashes to ashes dust to dust
we are gathered here today
To farewell another loved one who
never heard the warnings say -
 
Smoking causes cancer,
gangrene and heart disease
And with no thought of consequence
he just did as he pleased.
 
He always argued fervently
it helped relieve his stress
And calmed him when he felt himself
grow angry and restless.
 
With so much going on in life
he needed to unwind
After a long hard day at work
it soothed him every time.
 
He did not care what doctors said
even when he'd fallen ill,
The fatigue and trouble breathing
but he kept smoking still.
 
It wasn't til when came the day
he was confined to bed
Relying on the oxygen
to breathe for him instead -
 
That finally did he understand
what the fuss was all about
For he'd signed his own death warrant
by not putting that smoke out.
 
And from beyond the grave they stand
as he now ponders on
Just what he could've done with life
now that he has gone.
 
But it's too late, he had his chance
don't make the same mistake
Though you may think it helps you now,
but it really seals your fate.
 
From ashes to ashes he's become
in the cinder glow he stoked,
A warning for us all to hear
whatever you do, don't smoke.
 
© Christina aka Stina
26th October, 2006
~ Last Witness ~

The discovery was made during the morning’s frantic rush hour of organizing kids and taking them to school, before hurrying off to one’s workplace or to complete the daily errands.
 
Already running a little behind when she pulled into the Hunter’s driveway, Joanne Simmons did not anticipate just how late she was going to be that day.  She reiterated once again the need to hurry, as her daughter ran up to the house to collect Stephanie.  Kendra mumbled in reply with her hand already in a fist about to knock when she found the door was already open.  So she pushed it a little whilst announcing her arrival and stepped inside just far enough before she stopped in her tracks and screamed.
 
Joanne was out of the car in seconds, running to the house upon hearing her daughter’s scream of panic.  Not sure what she would find, Joanne certainly wasn’t prepared for the sight that assaulted her as she entered the Hunter house.  Her maternal instinct took over as she grabbed the still screaming Kendra and promptly ushered her outside away from the nightmare that would come to haunt them both.  Joanne’s arms remained protectively around her daughter as her screams metered out into a listless sobbing.  It wasn’t until Kendra’s tears had settled her into an exhausted reprieve did Joanne reach for her mobile phone and dial 000.  Then she leaned back against the car with her eyes closed and sighed.  The experience, she found, was already draining.
 
Within minutes the police responded with lights flashing and sirens blaring, braking abruptly outside the house on the quiet suburban street.  It was nothing like you see in the movies – no guns blazing or SWAT team with weapons or shields.  Just police, emergency personnel and what looked to be detectives in plainclothes emerging from their government issued vehicles.  Uniformed officers proceeded to rope off the property with the tell-tale blue and white checked crime scene tape as more official-looking personnel with “Forensics” plastered on the rear of their jackets and overalls arrived with black bags in hand.
 
Joanne watched the scene play out before them silently as she sat in the backseat of her Ford Territory, a dozing Kendra in her lap.  She was vaguely aware of a uniform asking questions but not sure exactly what they were.  Her answers, she knew, were mechanical as she absently recalled what she’d seen in those few seconds she’d been in the house.  The gruesome scene was still vivid in her mind and she was deathly afraid that what she’d seen in there would be her lasting memory of the Hunters with the sight Stephanie’s severed hand on the phone’s keypad.
 
“Did you touch anything else, Mrs Simmons?” the officer was asking.
 
“I – I don’t think so,” Joanne stammered.  “I remember pushing the door all the way open as I ran in, but as soon as I saw…” she paused a moment, “…the blood and all, I just grabbed Kendra and ran back outside.”
 
“That’s fine, Mrs Simmons,” he responded, writing everything down. “Did you notice anything else?  Was there anything missing that you know of?”
 
“I was only in there for a few seconds,” she whispered. “All I can remember is blood, bodies and my daughter screaming.”
 
“Ok, that’s fine,” he spoke soothingly. “I know this is distressing and I thank you for your help.  The detectives will be along to ask you some more questions in further detail when you feel up to it.” He paused before continuing softly, “They will also need to talk to your daughter.”
 
Joanne could only nod silently.  She knew they’d want to speak to Kendra since she went into the house and made the gruesome discovery first, but right now all she could think of was protecting her.  How was she going to wipe those images from her daughter’s mind?  And to keep the semblance of her best friend from being the mutilated mess in a pool of blood a lasting memory for her?  Joanne had no answer and it broke her heart because she knew that Kendra would forever carry that bloody scene in her mind, already fearing the effect it was bound to have.
 
Leaning back in her seat, she closed her eyes for a moment while outside her car remained a constant hub of activity.  Trying to rid her mind of their friends laying dead in a pool of blood, she soon found herself wondering what if they’d been on time?  Would they have walked in on the crime still in progress?  Would Kendra have been killed too, since she always went up to meet Stephanie at the door?  Would she have seen something more to help the police catch whoever did this?  Joanne didn’t even know if they’d been killed this morning or last night, but in her mind she couldn’t help but wonder had they’d been on time she could have helped prevent the tragedy – or become part of it.
 
Stroking Kendra’s hair softly, Joanne was vaguely aware of the crime scene examiners and police exchanging theories and findings as she found herself beginning to drift mindlessly from the present. Words like “…blood spatter patterns...lividity indicates…rigor not yet present…” all filtered through her mind, mingling with thoughts and the scene that played out before her.
 
The day had begun like any other with the normal disarray of preparing Kendra for school and making a list of things that she needed to do that day.  Then the phone had rung but no one appeared to be on the other end, until Joanne could hear the faint breathing on the line and what sounded like a gurgle.  Annoyed, she figured it was kids playing pranks again and after repeating Hello five or six times she disconnected impatiently.
 
“Come on, Kendra!” hearing her own voice flood her memory of that morning. “We’re already late!”
 
The phone had rung again, and Joanne was fast losing patience as she answered the call abruptly.  Again there was nothing but a faint voice in the background, a gurgled sound and then…
 
Joanne’s eyes flew open at the recollection.  It couldn’t be!  Was it possible?  Looking back toward the house where officers and detectives were still traipsing in and out the front door, conducting their investigation, Joanne called out suddenly. The Detectives had not yet questioned her or the daughter so when they heard the exclamation from her car they took the opportunity and sauntered over to where Joanne was wide-eyed with excitement. 
 
“Thank you for your time, Mrs Simmons. I know this is very difficult -” one of them began before Joanne interrupted.
 
“I think they called me!” she exclaimed. “This morning.”
 
“Why do you say that?” a detective with a kindly face asked.
 
“Well,” Joanne began, “we were running a little late this morning because I’d slept in. I was hurrying Kendra along when the phone rang.  At first I thought it was just kids having a bit of laugh because no one was on the other end.  I said Hello? a few times and then hung up.  We were about to walk about the door when it rang again.  I contemplated whether or not to answer, but it might have been important. When I picked it up again there seemed to be no one there.  Then I heard a faint voice in the background, which only confirmed to me it was kids playing around.  The one on the line sort of made a gurgling sound, a whimper and then I almost didn’t hear it. It was just a whisper.  They said ‘Help me..’, and then the call was disconnected.”
 
The two detectives looked at one another doubtfully.  They knew it could well have been kids just playing about, but they also knew Joanne had been through the awful experience of seeing what no one should ever have to see. The mind sometimes played tricks with memories, exacerbating events that often were not related. They knew they had to tread carefully.
 
“What time was this?”
 
“Just before we left…about 8.30,” Joanne answered. “It takes roughly 20 minutes from our house.”
 
“Mrs Simmons,” the kind one spoke gently. “As you said, it may well have been a prank call -”
 
“You don’t understand,” Joanne interrupted excitedly. “I KNOW it was them!  I didn’t process it at the time, but when I walked into that house Stephanie was holding the phone while her…her hand was on the speed-dial!”
 
Joanne could see they were still wary and looked at them adamantly before delivering the final piece of information she hadn’t even noticed herself that morning.
 
“I know it was them because it was their name on my Call Number Display!”
 
© Christina aka Stina
25th October, 2006

There you stand, death stick in hand

Don’t you see the picture above your head?

What can you be thinking, as you just smoke?

Do you really think nothing will happen?

 

Don’t you know?

You are putting yourself in an early grave

And yet you stand

And smoke away

 

Study that ceiling

And learn its lesson

You are going to end in an early grave

Unless you stop this day.

 

Marie Kathryn Casalaspro

October 18, 2006

 

 

Weekly Submissions

If loving me is like breathing, how can you stop?
Oh dear heart, let me tell you
There are many ways to stop the loving
Stop the overpowering need to be with one another

It could start with the lies you told
To me, about me.
Or the skirts you chased
Or the women you seduce

It could continue with the hurt you cause
Everytime you open your mouth
Your words drive daggers into my heart
Killing me...and killing you.

I could end it now.  It would be easy.
To actually stop you breathing
But no.  More the torture of continual life
Knowing that you killed us.

If loving me is like breathing...please stop.

-- Anna

[[ Comes on stage.  Checks on things with bartender, then with piano
player.
Finally comes center.]]



Well, there now.  I think we're almost ready to begin.  But we are
missing
something… [[pretends to ponder]]  Oh!  I know!  The sound effects!
We have
a great piano player but we need something a little bit more…  will
you
help?  Oh, I knew you would!



Now, let me tell you what I need you to do.  There are three people
who need
a bit of sound effect magic when they come on stage.



First, there's pure and sweet Miss Felicity.  Oh, you'll know her
when you
see her.  She kind of acts like..well..like this…  [[ bats eyelashes
and
puts hands together near chest like Felicity]]  When she comes on
stage,
please, will you give her a nice big SIGH or AWWW!  Like that?
Here, let's
practice it a bit.  Ready?



SIGH / AWW



Perfect!  Well done!



Then there's Felicity's beloved, Bob Scratchit.  He works for Mr.
Humbug.  And
Bob always needs a bit of encouragement.  He's…well…he's a good
man.  Now
when he comes around, can you help me give him some encouragement?
Maybe…a
CHEER?  Oh yes.  [[ Nod ]]  Let's practice that.  Ready?



CHEER! / YAY!



Excellent!  I'm really impressed!



And lastly..oh…lastly we have a dastardly man here in old El Paso.
He goes
by the name Ebenezer Humbug.  I really can't stand him.  And I don't
think
you'll like him either.  In fact, he even has his own theme music.
[[
piano plays Humbug 'theme' ]]  When he comes on stage, I'd rather he
just
goes right back off of it.  Maybe he'll listen to you if you BOO and
HISS
him?  I bet you're good at that.  Let's try it out.  Ready?



BOO / HISS



Oooh..that was good.  Can you give me one more snaky hiss?



HISSSSSSSS



Wonderful! Just wonderful.  Now, I'm the prompter..so I'll just sit
right
over here.  But I'll help you out with the boos and hisses if you
need them.
Alright!  We're ready.  Welcome to old El Paso and the Olde Curiosity
Saloon..


[[House lights down, stage lights up, cue Cheyenne ]]

All Hallows Eve
 

Hobgobblins running in the street.
Jack o'lanterns lighting the way.
Trick or treat the yearly invitation
rings through the air.
Treats of candy or soap your windows.
Giggles and snickers from children doing
the age old custom of Halloween.
 
As they celebrate All Hallows Eve.
Witches and Warlocks watch
as we mortals do their biding.
Pleased that they are remembered,
on this their night.
Brooms stand ready for the
ride across the moon.
If we watch, we can see the
shadows racing to the Witches coven.
 
 
 
© M. A. Farnes,  All rights reserved
The Last Time
 
I can't stop thinking about you
Your a part of me I can almost feel your breath on my neck
and taste your lips on mine
How was I to know that day in June
would be the last time.
 
 
Karen Morris

In Hiding

 

 

I had a horrid day.  My boss gave me a totally impossible task and then expected it to be completed yesterday.  My favorite little Bistro had a kitchen fire and was closed for lunch.  The coffee pot decided to go on strike and refused to brew the coffee.  And then there was a wreck on the freeway and I was two hours late getting home.  My roommate, Holly, wouldn’t be home until midnight so at least she wasn’t worried about me. 

 

I went to stick my key in the lock and was really surprised when the door was unlocked.  Shook my head and chalked it up to another nasty event in this totally atrocious day.  I locked the door, breathed a sigh of relief when I kicked off my shoes and reached in the fridge of a cold fruit smoothie. 

 

That’s when I noticed the message light blinking on the answering machine and punched the button to listen to the messages.  The first one was from Peter – my on again/off again boyfriend.  I guess we were on again as he wanted to take me to dinner and the symphony on Saturday night.  I made a note to call him back.  The second call was a hang-up, probably a telemarketer.

 

I paused the machine when I thought I heard something in the other room.  But everything was quiet.  I thought I smelled something funny – kind of sicky sweet – but then that was gone too.  I turned back to the machine and listened to the third message and froze in my tracks. 

 

“Hello Elizabeth .  Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find you?  Did you truly think you could hide?  Changing your name or residence or job won’t help.  I’m coming – soon.”

 

I hadn’t heard that voice in 5 years, the voice of my lover, my stalker, my worst nightmare.  I’d changed my name, faked my death, left my family and friends behind, changed careers, started anew in a new place where no one could find me, where no one knew me.  How?  How had he done it?  How much time did I have?

 

I couldn’t call the police.  Elizabeth Watson, flamboyant actress, was dead – lost in a drowning accident, her body never recovered.  Ellen Williams was a quiet, unassuming ad executive whose idea of a wild evening consisted of watching CSI on TV.

 

I couldn’t just sit here and wait either.  But what if he was outside?  What if he was waiting for me to run?  What ifs weren’t going to protect me.  I got my keys and went into the bedroom where I dragged out the large lockbox that contained my lives – old, current and possible future.

 

I pulled out the little Sig Sauer pistol and loaded it, chambered a round and slipped it into my waistband at the small of my back under my jacket.  I took the lockbox, my purse and the small suitcase I kept packed, just in case, and headed for the car.

 

Thankfully we had a garage attached to our townhouse so I got to the car without being seen by anyone.  I had no idea where I was going I just knew I had to go.  I backed the car out of the garage and headed down the street, checking to see if anyone was parked there or if anyone was following me.  I didn’t see anyone, but I knew I could not relax my vigilance.

 

About two blocks from home I saw him pull out from the curb behind me.  His lights were off, but I saw him in the glow of the street light on the corner.  I felt my heart beat increase and my hands were shaking as they griped the steering wheel.  What to do?  Where to go?  I couldn’t go to Peter; I couldn’t risk his life where Jason was concerned.  Jason was crazy, but he had always been careful to make it all look like it was my fault – like I was the stalker, like I was the one after him. 

 

The driver behind me kept his distance, pacing me.  Letting me know he was there, but giving no reason to panic me – I had enough reason for panic.  I turned onto the freeway and headed north.  He entered the freeway also.  There was fairly heavy traffic and I thought maybe I could lose him, so I speeded up until I was going nearly 90 mph. 

 

To my horror I saw him pacing me – right beside me in the left lane.  He looked over and smiled that nasty smug smile I hated so much.  It made my blood boil and I refused to let him think I was afraid.  I took the next exit, slowing only enough to negotiate the curve at the top of the hill.  He hadn’t anticipated the move and his car shot north on the highway.  I smiled smugly and headed out to find a motel for the night.  Before I’d gone a mile he was there again.  I don’t know how he found me, but he was there.

 

I started to speed up; I took turns erratically; I finally found myself on a lonely rural road.  I was totally turned around and had no idea where I was; except he was right behind me and closing in fast.  He was going to ram me.  I just knew it. I braced myself for the impact, but I still was not prepared when it came.  I tried to maintain control of the car, but I couldn’t, he was pushing me, driving me to the edge.  He was going to push me off the road – and – Oh My God – over the cliff. 

 

I heard myself scream, and then I heard Holly’s voice, “Ellen, wake up, please Ellen, wake up!!” 

 

I could still feel the horror, the fear, but I could feel Holly’s hands shaking me, and I heard other voices in the background, men’s voices and other women.  What was going on?

 

I forced my eyes open but everything was a blur. 

 

“Oh Ellen, thank goodness, we thought we were going to lose you.”

 

Holly was holding my hand and I was laying on the sofa in our living room.  I had no idea how I’d gotten there – I had a horrible headache and when I reached up I had bandages around my head. 

 

“You have a very large knot on your head and a gash that is going to need several stitches.”

 

“What happened?  How’d I get here?  I was driving my car, trying to get away from a lunatic and….”

 

“I got home about 45 minutes ago to find the front door open, the entire house tossed and you in a heap on the floor over by the telephone.  You were bleeding and unconscious.  I totally freaked, but I did remember to call 911 and the police and the crime scene people are here now.  What happened?”

 

“You’re asking me??  I remember coming home – the door was unlocked, but I thought it was just another horrible event in a horrible day - maybe not.  The last thing I remember is listening to my phone messages and then running away because of the third message – he said he was coming for me.”

 

“That’s odd Ellen; there were only two messages on the machine."

Maiden Fair

Endangered
 
What is wrong with this world today?
Animals mean more than we do?
Our children are a dying race.
But everyone looks to save whales.

The forest is beautiful this time of year.
So is a baby's smile.
The whales can take care of themselves.
Babies need someone to hold them.

While it is true that you have a choice,
What is that choice if someone dies?
Self control is a disease that is causing
Our babies to become endangered.
 Kellie
Monday morning about ten thirty am after coming back from the post office, Me my Mom and my son Matthew were at the corner, I saw a van in the driveway, and a car right in front of the driveway, and four men standing at the side door knocking.... .I was so scared that I told my Mom to just drive, and she went a couple blocks before I said ok, we gotta go back we need to face this.
We had to park on the street, since the driveway was filled. I took Matthew out of the car seat and walked across the street to the apartment. I walked to the side door and saw nothing, I started walking in the door and saw a man standing at the door to the apartment downstairs. He looked at me and said "you live upstairs"? I said Yes, he said very sternly, COME HERE!
    I walked towards him up the stairs with Matthew in my arms. I then saw another man, he asked me you Mrs. Morris? I said yes, he then said Ok I recognize you from the picture????? ?????(at the time I didn't think anything of this, but I sure do now)
He then said that they were looking for Christopher Morris (My husband) I said he's in jail, and he's been there since June 2nd!!!
He said, are you sure? I looked at him sort of dumb and said um yes I'm sure.
He asked me again, I said the Sheriff's department came on June 2nd, and arrested him, when his arraignment wasn't until June the 7th, and he's been in even since. NO I can't prove it, but I can show you my caller ID from his phone calls. He then said to one of the other four men to call county and see if Chris was there, then turned to me and said IF I find out that he's not there, I WILL be back to talk to you. I said you want me to come out with you to the car until you get notified? He said no that's fine. So we walked up the rest of the stairs and we found....... ....
1. our front door wide open
2. my bedroom door open and light on (I always keep it latched shut so Matthew can't get in it)
3. my Mom's bedroom light on
4. our living room furniture moved away from the walls (as if looking to see if someone was hiding behind there)
WE WERE SO SCARED! The first thing that I have to tell you is that they NEVER identified themselves (how stupid are we not to have asked them? but we were scared)
and they NEVER showed us any arrest warrant as they stated they had for my husband. I them called the Lawyer, who told me NOT to let them in if they come back and to call ASAP and she will be right here. Then I called the Sheriff's warrant unit and they told me that they had NO WARRENT for my husband and that they had no idea why anyone was there!!!!!!! !!!!!! SO if we weren't scared while they were here we sure were then! My mom went to the Police station and they said NO they didn't send anyone over here (they looked in the computer) and that they don't have POLICE written on the sleeves on a sweat jacket.
So there you have it, now I'm just scared of every knock, every car door everything. This is so stupid. I don't believe that they were here for my Husband, i think they were here to scare me sent by my ex!
I am a walking zombie, my brain is mush. I want/need this to be over with and to have my husband back at home. I'm so sorry this was so long, but I can't make it any shorter. Please forgive me.
Karen
~ I'll Be Seeing You ~
 
It was the phone call I had come to dread. Only I hadn’t been home at the time so it had gone to my answer machine.  The first two messages had been friends confirming the dinner party I was to be hosting that night but it was when I came to the third message that I froze and now I stood rooted to the spot after playing back it back again and again, feeling somewhat suspended in time.  How had he found me?  And what did he want?  I shook my head as I already knew the answer – me. He wanted me.
 
Slowly I felt myself fall to the floor amidst an overwhelming wave of defeat.  It was no use – I had run but still I couldn’t hide, just as he had always whispered so callously throughout the years we were married.  He had said there would be no escape from him, that no matter where I was or where I went he would never be far behind.  That he would always know where I was.  For a long time I had believed that, but after seeking a therapist I came to the conclusion that that was what he wanted me to think – to feel.  He’d wanted to maintain a power over me, and as long as I lived in constant fear of him, he always would.  It took me a long time to come to terms with the abuse and although I had, there was still a part of me somewhere that feared he would return.
 
So when I heard his raspy voice on my machine just now, I knew now there really was no escape.  Too frightened to move, to speak, to cry – all I could do was sit on the floor of my bedroom, my arms wrapped tightly around my knees and let the demons come for me.
 
The waiting was endless and I closed my eyes to shut out everything around me.  I didn’t want to be reminded of my normal life in my normal house in this normal city.  This situation was far from normal, and right now I didn’t want to see perfection when all I felt was panic.  I opened my mouth to scream, to ease the growing tension I was beginning to feel, but no sound came out.  This was not happening.  No, no, no!  It couldn’t be. Maybe I’d imagined it.  Opening my eyes in an instant I pulled the machine onto the floor with me and watched its blinking red light.  There were messages, but was there THAT message?
 
With a shaking hand I forwarded the first couple of messages then depressed the PLAY button.  My heart stopped as the sound of his voice echoed in my room.
 
“Hello Leesa,” came the sneer I had always remembered. “I told you there was no escape, didn’t I?  You thought you could run from me but I’ve never left your side.  I can still see you, hear you, smell you – I could even touch you if I wanted to.” A raspy chuckle reverberated in my ears, the sound making me sick to my stomach. “I hear you are hosting a dinner party tonight. Now what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t show up? I’m sure your new friends would be very interested to hear ALL about you. What would you like me to bring? Red or white?” He chuckled again.  “I suppose I shall have to keep you guessing, shan’t I?  I do so love the element of surprise…don’t you?” Then his voice grew serious again. “Just remember, Leesa, you will never escape me.  Till tonight then.  We have so much to catch up on.  I’ll be seeing you, sweetcakes.”
 
Feeling a surge of anger I flung the machine across the room and let out an almighty scream that could have been heard for miles.  It was real.  He really had called, and now he was coming after me again.  No, no, no, no…this couldn’t be happening again.  The safe and structured life I had set up for myself was about to be shattered and there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop it.
 
Tears had begun to sting my eyes as I felt the onslaught of so many unanswered questions.  Why?  Why me? Why couldn’t he just leave me alone?  Why, why, why?!  For so long now I had held it together – why did he have to come back and bring it all up again?  I was fine. I was safe. At least I thought I was…until I heard his voice again reverberating through the stillness of my being and echoing through the emptiness of my house.
 
“Hello Leesa….I’ll be seeing you….I can still see you…smell you…no escape…hello Leesa….red or white?...I’ll be seeing you…”
 
Covering my ears with my hands pressed firmly against my skull in a futile attempt to block out his voice and the memories he brought with him. 
 
“…I’ll be seeing you…”
 
“No, no, no,” I cried over and over, trying to rid the sound of his voice by shaking my head violently.  “Leave me alone!”
 
Time seemed to stand still and I don’t know how long I lay there curled in the foetal position, trembling from the fear from which I had tried so hard to escape for so long.  ‘You can run but you can’t hide Leesa’, he’d said to me in the dark confines of our marriage all those years ago, ‘I’ll always find you…I’ll be seeing you’.  And now the nightmare had returned again.  He could see me and hear me, and I’d had no idea.  How long had he been watching me?  How long had he known where I was?  How had he even found me?   Questions, questions – too many questions without answers.
 
Suddenly a picture of clarity formed in my mind. I had to get out of here!  If he knew where I was, he could come for me at any time.  Finding my feet after what seemed like an eternity, I scrambled from the floor and grabbed my ‘emergency’ bag from the back of the closet.  There were already a few items of clothing and money which I’d kept there for if ever this situation arose, and I quickly stuffed a few more items in before zipping it shut.  I ran to my bedside table and frantically searched the underside of each drawer, a wave of terror sweeping over me.  It has to be here!  I always kept it… No. No, it’s not possible.
 
“Looking for this, darling?” I heard his voice at the same moment realization dawned on me, and I turned to find my estranged husband standing in front of me with the gun for which I was so frantically searching.
 
How had he found it?  How did he know?  How did he get in? The alarm was supposed to be set.  So many unanswered questions I didn’t have the strength or courage to ask.  I had fled him for years, built a new life for myself and become a stronger person, but all it took was for him to be standing in the same room for me to dwindle into the weak and cowardly person that I was with him.  All the years of therapy to rid myself of him and the guilt I’d carried was all coming undone just by being in his mere presence.  Was there ever going to be an escape? 
 
I had to get out of here.  Mustering up the courage I didn’t feel I scrambled over my bed heading for the door, but he was quicker and much much bigger than me.  With just a couple of strides he used his large frame to block my escape, shaking his head.
 
“What?” he sneered at me with a twisted smile, “no welcome home kiss?”
 
He reached up to touch my cheek but I turned my head away.  Knowing that would anger him I wasn’t surprised to feel his hands rip at my hair and force me to face him.
 
“Now, now, Leesa,” he admonished me. “Is that any way to greet your husband after all these years?”
 
I spat in his face with a look of defiant anger.  He was not going to break me, I decided, no matter what it took.  I felt the jarring of bone as his fist connected with my cheek then he twisted my hair and began dragging me toward the bed.  I used the momentum to find my feet as I swiftly turned and kneed him hard.  He doubled over yelling in pain, his face growing red in anger, as I leapt on the gun.  Trying to keep hold of my emotions I kept the barrel aimed at him, while I crouched slowly to pick up my bag.  Never once taking my eyes off him as he rolled on the floor in obvious agony, I backed out of my bedroom and only then did I turn and run toward the front door.
 
Fumbling with the double deadlocks felt like an eternity as I knew time was ticking away.  Why did I keep my house locked up like Fort Knox, I was frantically thinking.  To keep him out, the logical voice answered back.  But it didn’t work – he still got in!  And now I can’t get out, I thought as I began to panic.  Glancing behind me to make sure the coast was clear, I paused and took a deep breath before trying again. I heard the telltale click as relief flowed through me.  But it was too late.
 
Slamming his hand on the door, the force of his weight pushed it shut again as I felt myself freeze with the all-too-familiar fear.
 
“Like I said, sweetcakes,” he whispered maliciously, “you ain’t ever going to escape!”
 
I felt his hands around my throat as he lifted me effortlessly then threw me across the room.  I heard the sound of glass smashing as my body hit the mirror on the wall before I felt the stinging sensation soar through me like I’d been jabbed with a thousand needles.  I screamed in pain. But he wasn’t finished with me yet, as his giant hands took hold of a chunk of hair and he dragged me through the broken glass along the floor.
 
“You’ve gotten a little feisty since you’ve been away, haven’t you?” he spoke viciously. “Since when do you fight back? You’re a coward – a pathetic nobody!  You think you’ve got the strength to take me on? You couldn’t do it before, so what makes you think you can now?”
 
Then he laughed – an evil malicious laugh.  It echoed through the emptiness that now filled my once safe house, penetrating my thoughts and every fibre of my being.  He’s right. There is no escape, and I was foolish to believe I would ever be free of him.  I tried closing my eyes tightly in a futile attempt to shut it all out but it didn’t work.  He was still here, still had a hold of me, still laughing.
 
That damn laughter!  Did it make him feel bigger and better to intimidate me with his threats, his fists and then laugh at me like it was nothing?  Like I was nothing?  Did he get some perverse pleasure out of hurting me?  In an effort to control me?  Who was he to think that he had the right to come into my home, uninvited, threaten me, hit me, attack me and then laugh about it?  At me?  He may be bigger than me in size, but I have a hell of a lot more on him.  No, he will NOT break me!
 
Suddenly the laughter stopped, as if he sensed the mood change.  I felt him tighten his grip on me in an attempt to instill a level of fear in me, to remind me that he was in charge.  But I was stronger than that, I knew.  And as his eyes met mine I think he began to realize it too.
 
Gathering my wits together, I clenched the fist of my free hand before swinging it around and into his kidneys.  I knew the searing pain would be enough to release his grip on me and as soon as he went down I fled to the keypad in the hall and depressed the PANIC button.  It sent out a silent alarm to the monitoring company for emergency assistance, which I knew would arrive within minutes. 
 
Trying to maintain a level of control I swiftly moved along the polished floorboards to the backdoor, with him close behind.  He was faster and grabbed my legs, tripping me, but I was more adept and running on pure adrenaline flung my foot into his face.  He staggered back groping the kitchen bench for support while I began unlatching the backdoor locks.  Flinging the door open and feeling the breath of fresh air on my face, I ran out screaming for help desperately as I scrambled along the lawn of my backyard.  As I approached the back gate, I felt the strength of his monstrous hands encircle my ankles again and I fell.  Then using all his weight he pinned me to the ground and covered my mouth to stifle my screams.  In his other hand was a gleaming knife from the knife block in my kitchen, on his face that sick and twisted smile.
 
“Not so clever now, sweetcakes,” he sneered.  “What’s the matter?  Feeling a little tied down?”
 
The fight hasn’t gone from me yet, I was thinking, as I bit down hard on his hand, kneed him again then as he fell back, I used my legs to propel him clear of me.  After which I then sat motionless pointing the gun I’d never let go of at him.
 
“You bitch!” he spat.  “You will pay for that!”
 
With the surge of pure anger, he lunged toward me but never made it.  I was prepared for him as I pulled the trigger and watched him collapse in a bloodied heap.  His eyes were wide open and staring at me but he was dead before he hit the ground.  Feeling every emotion I had experienced within the last hour since I first heard his voice on my answer machine wash over me, I collapsed exhausted, spent and still trembling.  It was over.  Finally it was over.  And only then could I allow myself to let the tears that had been threatening finally fall.
 
Emergency vehicles responding to my silent alarm arrived with sirens blaring then police began pounding on my front door.  A wave of relief flooded me as I got to my feet, realizing that it really was over.  I no longer had to run for now I was free.  Looking down at the man I had once been married to, his eyes still staring at me, I felt nothing.
 
“Not so clever now?” I reiterated, then whispered, “I’ll be seeing you…in hell.”
 
Leaving his lifeless form in my backyard, I went to let the police in, knowing at long last I will never been seeing him again.
 
© Christina aka Stina
26th October, 2006

This thing between us
is difficult to fathom
It shouldn't be yet
it won't stop

This thing between us
makes me go on
reaching for stars
where there are none

This thing between us
makes you think
of me even when your thoughts
should be elsewhere

This thing between us
will never stop

This thing between us
can't be fought

This thing between us
is what keeps me alive

~Corina Carrasco

Windswept Love
By FlaIsleGirl@aol.com
 
May you always feel loved
that is my wish for you
across the windswept ocean
I send my love to you
 
May you always want my kisses
sent on the winds to you
Hold me close within these wishes
And know that I love you
 
 Across the windswept ocean
  across the Hawaiian sea
this heart of mine keeps beating
loving whispers back to you
 
 Darling, how I love you!
know that I wait this day for you
just as the winds will blow forever....
for all of eternity, I'll wait for you
Leilani's Rose
 
Why did you leave me?
My heart can't tell
You left me in the evening
Of a very perfect day.
 
Why did you leave me?
My heart feels gray.
My tears just keep falling
Like the quiet rain.
 
I walked by the garden
down by the sea
There I saw a rose
Like the one you gave to me
 
It is a lasting token
of your love for me
sweet words were gently spoken
as the rose I took from thee
 
 I planted it my darling,
by the ocean by the sea
and I know.....
this heart that is broken
still feels its love for you
 
as I walk by the ocean
to the garden by the sea
to see this lovely token
knowing you loved me,
 
Oh, Sweet Darling!
I just want you to know
that as long as the roses grow
I'll be in love with you
 
By FlaIsleGirl@aol.com
May 19, 2003
 
A Time of Peace
 
There is a gentle spring
deep within my heart
whose soft serenity
reminds me of another side of me
a place wherein
inspiration reigns with hope.
 
Flowing beyond the realms of yesterday
Tomorrow will flow on just as softly
extract please, the inner out of me...
give me a feeling of sweet solitude
and one of peaceful harmony.
 
This quiet spring
like gentle rain
casts its healing spell
it wets my swollen lips so parched
 heated by the world's dismay
 
If Dante's inferno could burn as hot
than this gentle spring would cool as much
much like the cool blue falling rain,
I feel the touch of life again.
 
The human races endures so much
yet parched and dry it has become
a gentle spring wells inside of all of us
it flows as softly as the night
it quenches an inner thirst
and allows sweet harmony rebirth.
 
By FlaIsleGirl@aol.com
 
Oct 23, 2006
 
~ Loving Me is like Breathing ~
 
It was a breath
It was a kiss
It was a moment
It felt like this....
 
It was a touch
It was a hand
It was a look
That understands....
 
It was a hope
It was a fear
It was a dream
forever here....
 
It was a promise
It was a vow
It was a love
I lost somehow....
 
It was a sorrow
It was a hurt
It was a pain
Beyond all words....
 
It was a breath
It was a love
But it was over
once it stopped....
 
© Christina aka Stina
26th October, 2006
 
Dear Sugarplum,
You love when grandpa calls you sugarplum. I want you to know that he will always remain your buddy. He will never forget you. I'll explain that later on.

You're five years old. There is a lot you need to know. Plenty you wonder about and a surprising amount of joy to look forward to! Dawnie will always be your best friend! Yeah, the tall blonde girl you sit next to in class right now. The two of you will be inseparable. She will also introduce you to a group called UB40 – they will end up being your favorite band. Don't worry, Frankie [Sinatra] will still be your favorite performer.

It will never be easy for you growing up in that house. Freedom will be worth waiting for! Your day will come, I promise. Beast will try to break your spirit but you will never let her! Listen to grandpa. He will tell you repeatedly how smart and beautiful you are. He will never call you the "C" word [crippled]. Instead, he will tell you "You are as beautiful as the Mona Lisa, sweetheart! A priceless work of art!" Then you'll sit on his lap, sing Nat King Cole songs, eat pizza and have a vanilla cone with rainbow sprinkles from Dairy Queen. Later on you'll watch the Yankees game together. He will always dry your tears and keep your secrets safe. Enjoy every one of those moments. They are absolute treasures.

Longing to be "normal" is something you will grow out of. In a few years, actually. You will realize normal is boring and you have a very distinct personality which would not be able to truly shine if you were "normal." Those operations hurt, I know. They will not be less painful as you grow up, but you are the 'brave little soldier.' You will come through them all and act like it was nothing.

At age nine, you will lose all respect for Dad. I'm sorry -- so very sorry he won't believe you. That will be a pattern for different reasons, throughout your life. You will be better off though. Everything happens for a reason. No matter how confusing it is. You will learn from this. You will see him for the man he really is.

In school, you will excel! You will teach yourself the piano, alto saxophone and clarinet. You'll sing your heart out! Yes, you can act on stage there and even in the Poconos! Your humor will be a necessity. Most importantly, you will learn to stand up for yourself. Though there will be a lot of turmoil, you will meet many people who will have a tremendous impact on your life.

At age fourteen, you will convince mom to get you set up on the Internet. You will never expect to find love on there, only friends and you will make many friends. But at age eighteen, you will find love too! It will be one of the best things to happen to you! Dad will fight you every step of the way over it, but you will stand by the man you love. You're still with him today! Grandpa approves of your relationship though and he gets to meet him before you and mom move to Texas! It makes him smile to see how happy you are.

At the start of this letter, I said grandpa will remember you no matter what. Well, he will get sick. He will start to forget things. But when he talks to you on the phone or sees you at home, he will ALWAYS remember you! That will comfort you a great deal.

One last thing before I end this letter. You may never get to have a family in the way you imagined, but it's alright. You will still get to have a very loving family. You will fill your life with joy, love and laughter all the time. That's how a family should be. That's how your family WILL end up being. There are many things I didn't say. More things that I don't even know yet! But no matter what, you will get through everything life has to offer – and you will be rewarded.

Maria

The Mask

 

Couldn’t let them see inside

Had to wear the mask

Her true face couldn’t show

Hide it behind the mask

 

Little by little

She let pieces go free

Yet hiding in her insecuries

Could let them see

 

Then one night it happened

When with the ones she loved

The mask fell off

 

She just wanted to hide

The voices in her head cried out

You aren’t as good as them and you never will be

Run fast, run now

They can’t love the one that is showing

 

She cried, her eyes flooded with tears

Till one by one she felt their arms around her

Their voices speaking words that weren’t playing in her head

Showing her what they saw

 

She knelt there, truly humbled by their words

The mask she’d wear no longer

Only remembering their words of love

 

 

Marie Kathryn Casalaspro

September 6, 2004
White Hot
 
It's summertime in California.
Days like this,
I wish I lived closer to the ocean.
Some reporter on the news
thinks he's clever,
breaks an egg to cook it
on the sidewalk.
 
I go outside, barefoot,
in shorts and a tank top,
hoping vainly for a breeze.
The sidewalk
is so hot under my feet,
it feels cool.
At first.
 

Mary Jo

10/20/2006

 

The Key
                         By Anna Corsair
 

Sitting on my bed, confused, I wonder what happened the night before. I hadn't gone anywhere, even though it was a Friday night. I hadn't even had a date with my wonderful husband in a year. At least since our last anniversary.

"I don’t have time to think about this right now." I replied softly to myself. I placed the key that I held tightly in my right hand, into my jewelry box. I was disrupted by the dulcet tones of my 3 young children waking up for another day.

Forcing the thought of the key out of my suddenly active mind, I went down to stop the squabble between Adam and Marie. Then to start breakfast. I quickly told Adam to leave his 3 year old sister alone. Ignoring his normal, 6 year old protests, I hastily made a bottle for my youngest. Emily was 3 months old, and demanding her release from her crib. A typical day in the life of a stay-at-home Mom. I thought fondly that would not have it any other way. Smiling I began the daunting task of getting all children ready for the trip to the store.

Coming back from the store was just as much the fiasco as it was inside the store. The key was still pressed firmly to the forefront of my mind. The children had called for every bit of candy, and snack imaginable. It was finally time for naps, after a stop at their favorite fast food for lunch, of course. Adam went to his room to play quietly. Marie to her room for some sleep, and Emily had fallen asleep in the car. I laid her in her crib, softly, and went into my room.

I shut the door quietly and walked across the room. I took the key out of my battered old jewelry box, and turned it in my hand. I didn’t like the thought that someone was in my house, at night, just to put a key in my hand. I also couldn’t understand why I didn’t wake up. Pushing that thought from my mind, seeing as how no real harm had been done, I concentrated on what the key would open. It was a strange key. I have never seen its equal. It had an antique look to it. But it was also new.

"No clues there," I whispered to myself, a little frustrated, but intrigued none the less. I looked around my room. I looked for footprints on the floor. I saw none but my husband, Lee’s footprints on the old carpeting. I thought to myself, “He must have left those when he left for work this morning.” It had to wait, it was time for the afternoon festivities to start.

Placing the key in my pocket, I allowed the two oldest to go outside and play in the back yard. I waited inside for Emily to get up from her nap. I let my mind wander to the metal key again. My imagination worked over time. Maybe whomever put the key in my hand the night before had scraped the floor to cover their tracks. I went back to my room to check it out. It wasn’t much help, since I had vacuumed the day before, then walked on it this morning. I had to find a note or something. If it were Lee who left it in my hand, he would leave a note.

I checked the dresser, side table, our bathroom. Everywhere. Nothing. Finally I checked the kids to make sure they were ok. My mind settled down when I saw them having a leafy fight. I yelled for Adam to take it easy with his little sister. I made my way back toward my bedroom. I stopped for a second at Emily’s bedroom doorway to find her sleeping peacefully.

“Good that gives me a little time to myself to concentrate on this key.” I thought as I quietly made my way back to my room. I laid down on my bed, sideways. I looked at my beautiful new pillow cases. I had gotten them as a gift last Christmas from my Mother-in-law.

Suddenly, I saw it. The clue I had been searching for. Under Lee’s pillow was a small corner of a piece of paper. I pulled it out. I read it. It had few words. “I love you, always, and in all ways.” A simple message. Even one that I already knew. It was nice to hear it again. I knew that Lee had left it for me. I took it further, that maybe HE had left me the key. Yes, he was the only one with access to our room in the middle of the night. That would also explain why I didn’t wake up.

“That sly man. I love him dearly, but he is a sly one.” I said out loud.

“Would that be me? Or some other man you would have hanging around your beautiful self.” I jumped about a foot off the bed.

“I was waiting for the kids to get done playing outside, and wondering what you wanted to do for dinner.” He said softly.

“Oh, I don’t know. To be honest, I haven’t thought about it all day.” I replied.

“Well, Mom said she would watch the kids. I thought I could treat you to dinner and a movie.”

“Sure, why not. Let me get them ready.” I said, distractedly.

He said, “You get yourself together, let me take care of the kids, and get them ready.”

I kissed him passionately. “Have I told you how wonderful you are?”

“Not today.” He laughed.

I hurried off to the closet. I needed to find my nicest jeans, and sweater.

About an hour later, I sauntered down the hall. I felt happy. All thoughts of the key floating away in exchange for a night alone with Lee. I reached the end of the hallway, greeted my mother-in-law, and said good-bye to the kids. I kissed each one in turn. Then, having held off to the last moment after the kids left, I chanced a glance at my tall, handsome, brown haired, and wonderful husband. He was smiling. I walked my short frame over to meet with his tall one. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and said, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He helped me with my coat.

We went to our favorite restaurant. After we had given our order to the waitress, I looked across the table at him.

“So what is all this about? We only ask your mom to baby-sit the kids so we can go on a real date a few times a year. Our anniversary, and our birthday’s.” I stopped. I just remembered. I stared disbelieving at my husband. “I forgot its my birthday.” My jaw dropped.

“Your right my lady.” He winked at me.

“So you left the key, and the note this morning for me to find.” I concluded.

“I always knew you were smarter than you looked.” He teasingly said. I gave him a playful look. Then remembered I had left the key in my jewelry box, in our bedroom.

“What’s wrong babe?” With a grin playing at the tips of his mouth, he tried to look concerned. I didn’t notice it.

“I forgot the key at the house.” I cried.

“In that case,” he said quietly, “You will want to open this first.”

He handed me a tiny ring box. I looked at him, and took the box. I opened it. There it was, the key.

“I took it while you were getting ready.”

“I wondered why you offered to take care of the kids.”

“So what does the key go to?” I asked after a short pause.

“This,” He said, and promptly pulled out a bigger jewelry box. I gasped. I opened it with the key. I ran my fingers over the velvet. And found another key. This time on a necklace.

“So what does this one open?” I asked.

“It’s the key to my heart.”

And that, my dear friends, was the sweetest night of my life.

 

Just like candy

 

Sitting back

Memories play

Thinking back to simpler days

 

When life was sweet

Each day was dandy

And life seemed like a giant piece of candy

 

Summers hot

But full of fun

Nothing to worry about

When we were young

 

Long vacations

Miles from home

Old ice cream

With a hand made cone

 

Sweet simple memories

Like sweet candy

So wonderful to me

 

 

Marie Kathryn Casalaspro

October 19, 2006

 

You told me loving me was like breathing, so how could you stop?

How you change your mind so quickly?

Your words were like sugar

So sweet and so empty

And now the memory of them

Fills me with nothing but pain

 

If love me is like breathing, then why are you still alive

And you haven’t turned blue

For love is nothing but a pretty word to you

And nothing more than that

But it wasn’t that way to me

 

So, if really being in love with me was like breathing

You’ve hidden a huge lie

And now my heart is broken

In the wake of your fib

So, make up your mind

 

Was loving me like breathing or was it pillow talk?

For it seemed very real to me

And now my heart is torn apart

And yet you walk away

No pain for you

So was it all a lie?

For now I can see

If loving me was like breathing, how could you stop?
 
Marie Kathryn Casalaspro
October 19, 2006

Passages

Tick-tock tick-tock
in the quiet still of grief
tears replaced by a numb calm.
The clock on the wall
continues its second by second
move, a reminder that
the sun will rise and set
each day,
while the dead slumber oblivious
to sun or rain or snow
the rest of us labor, laugh, live
our lives
until our clock ticks no more.

by Margaret C. Rigsby
10/19/06

Mark sat and watched Midajah as she lay on the beach chair. He was surprised that she took him up on the offer. He had been pursuing her for months now. Midajah declared that she needed a vacation and she wanted it to be with him. Mark was happy with the way their courtship was going. He just had one question on his mind.                                 
                                                                           
"M, What kind of man are you looking for?"  Mark asked gingerly.
                                                                           
Midajah sat quietly for a moment before looking into his blue eyes and asking.    
 "Do you really want to know?"                                            
                                                                           
Reluctantly, Mark said, "Yes."  
 
Midajah began to expound...  “As a woman in this day and age, I am in a position to ask a man what he can do for me that I can’t do for myself. I pay my own bills.” Mark nodded as she continued.
                                 
”I take care of my household without the help of any man. I am in the position to ask, What can you bring to the table?" Midajah questioned as she looked at him.
                                                                           
Mark looked back at her. Clearly he thought that she was referring to money.
                                                                           
Midajah quickly corrected his thought and stated, "I’m not referring to money. I need something more." I need a man who is striving for perfection in every aspect of life." He sat back in his chair, folded his arms, and asked her to explain.                                                                                                                                              
She said, "I am looking for someone who is striving for perfection mentally because I need conversation and mental stimulation. I don't need a simple-minded man. I am looking for someone who is striving for perfection spiritually because I don't need to be unequally
yoked... believers mixed with unbelievers is a recipe for disaster.” Mark mentally evaluated that last statement. He never knew that she was spiritually centered. Mark began to examine his own spirituality. 
                                                                         
Midajah glanced and noticed him lost in thought. “Mark, I’m not done.”
 
“You’re not?” Mark questioned.
 
Midajah shook her head. “I need a man who is striving for perfection financially because I don't need a financial burden. I am looking for someone who is sensitive enough to understand what I go through as a woman, but strong enough to keep me grounded. I am looking for someone who I can respect. In order to be submissive, I must respect him. I cannot be submissive to a man who isn't taking care of his business. I have no problem being submissive...he just has to be worthy. God made woman to be a helpmate for man. I can't help a man if he can't help himself.”
 
When Midajah finished her spill, she turned to face him.  Mark sat there with a puzzled look on his face. He was not sure what to say or how to respond to her well thought out answer. No female had ever given such a detailed answer to what he thought was a simple question.
                                                                           
He said, "You're asking a lot."                                            
                                                                           
She replied, "I'm worth a lot."    

Genta Hughes


I can't stop

Two hearts beating
breast to breast
two souls promising
until death.
I whisper into your ear
our bodies intertwined
"Loving me is like breathing,
or at least that's how I feel."
You nuzzle your warm lips against my ear
"How can you stop?"
I feel a smile curl against my eager ear.
"I can't, can you?"
To breathe is to live and our breathing quickens
as our does our desire for each other.
"I want to breath you, smell you, love you
and I can't stop."


© Margaret C. Rigsby
October 17, 2006
He stood there staring
Winter harshly took his soul
Broken forever

Adam

I haven't seen you in a long time.
A phone call used to only cost a dime.
Now there are bills to pay and not a dime to spare.
Not much time on my hands, I hardly have time to come my hair.
Last night you called me and I missed it.
This morning I called you to talk a bit.
It was great to hear your voice again.
But soon I had to go, I had a work day to begin.
Tomorrow you go home to your state.
Next time I will see you and I won't be late.
Tonight I will email you, thanks for the address.
After you read my email you will have to rest.
Many years to catch up on, many stories to tell.
And I will send you pictures, in the next email.
This time we will keep in touch and not drift apart.
Yes indeed, this time we will not drift apart.
SLM2006

Infilteration

Violet, the color of a fantasy
Infiltering her mind
Drawn from the nonstop chats
Riveting from his typed words
Insync with her thoughts
Never to be alone
Evermore in his arms.
Bren Vidrine
Copyright ©2006 Bren Vidrine

That look


I remember that look;
the glassy-tired look
that sees through dilated pupils.
That tolerant look of acceptance,
I wonder if they see me at all.

Skin stretched over protruding bones
so fragile, I can feel everyone
like one of those plastic skeleton's you study
at the doctor's office.

Hunger ceased and self-starvation set in
as she lies listlessly or stirs wearily
resting on a soft blanket close to me.
Hope has left both of us; she now diverts her eyes from mine.

When do I know with certainty that she just wants
something she probably doesn't even understand
to end?   She hides her suffering but my days
of deliberation, sobs for the impending loss have to end
as prolonging her agony is only a selfish human exploitation.

A fight fought fiercely clutching with desperate struggle
to live; the essence of the nature of survival itself.
I can no longer tolerate that look
which both saddens me but tells me to free us both.

by Margaret C. Rigsby
10/13/06

She sat there thinking
She sat there longing
She sat there hoping
praying, fearing...

She sat there watching
She sat there dreaming
She sat there wishing
searching, fearing...

She sat there wondering
quietly, as he looked at her
with eyes not saying

She sat there asking
quietly, if loving me is
like breathing, then

She sat there sighing
quietly.. then how
could you stop


She sat there thinking
She sat there longing
She sat there hoping
praying, fearing...

silently... as he walked away.



bren vidrine
October 11, 2006

You

You are perfect
because you're you.
Your temper;
your humor;
even the dumb things
you'd come up with!

Through the tears
you made me shed;
the times you made me
laugh til it hurt;
the angry words
you shouted at me;
you were still as perfect as
your hugs and kisses.

I think of you and I know
the only thing not perfect
is that you are not here,
you are gone

But you will always
be with me,
in me,
a part of me...
You...
You are perfect.

~Corina Carrasco

Note: 
No, this is not about who you might think.  I'm not into abusive relationships.  I wrote this about/for my daughter. 

“Loving me is like breathing, how can you stop?”

It happened all of the sudden.
One day when he thought things were fine they changed.
The look in her eyes was no longer of love.
What was this look he contemplated?
He figured that it was something that he did earlier.
He decided that it was best like always to just give it time.
And so began his downfall.

He walked into the house, full in hand of groceries.
His woman stood there greeting him dressed most beautifully.
He kissed him before anything else.
He returned the kiss and added a slight tap on her butt.
She blushed slightly and then that's when he saw it.
Those eyes, what was with those eyes?

It happened all of the sudden.
One day when he thought things were fine they changed.
The look in her eyes was no longer of love.
What was this look he contemplated?
He figured that it was something that he did earlier.
He decided that it was best like always to just give it time.
And so began his downfall.

Then he waited patiently.
He had no desire to see the man coming there.
That man had once been the lover of his love.
He even fathered the child under his and her care.
Those things mattered not to him though.
Only his love for her and the child.

It happened all of the sudden.
One day when he thought things were fine they changed.
The look in her eyes was no longer of love.
What was this look he contemplated?
He figured that it was something that he did earlier.
He decided that it was best like always to just give it time.
And so began his downfall.

After an argument between the two, himself and the former lover,
    the truth would come out.
She no longer loved him.
How could she even say that he wondered?
Loving me is like breathing, how can you stop?
It was the truth though.
Her eyes spoke it as if it impaled all his being.
His soul wanted to scream from the pain he felt then.

It happened all of the sudden.
One day when he thought things were fine they changed.
The look in her eyes was no longer of love.
What was this look he contemplated?
He figured that it was something that he did earlier.
He decided that it was best like always to just give it time.
And so began his downfall.

The truth he would learn was one of the harshest experiences
    that he would have to face.
The woman the he proposed to, had been engaged to,
    the same one that told him she loved him
    had just let him go.
That day he would have rather faced a thousand deaths,
    any amount of physical pain would have been
    better than what he felt.
Physical pain can be defended against, but the anguish of
    the soul could not.



It happened all of the sudden.
One day when he thought things were fine they changed.
The look in her eyes was no longer of love.
What was this look he contemplated?
He figured that it was something that he did earlier.
He decided that it was best like always to just give it time.
And so began his downfall.

Adam

I Was Never Wild

I was never wild
except about you
I was never happy
until I met you
I was never whole
but I am with you

With you, I laugh
wildly, joyously
With you, the pain
is dulled, forgotten
With you, the broken
is renewed, mended

I never wanted to be wild
I only wanted you
I never wanted riches
I only wanted you
I never wanted eternity
but I have it with you

~Corina Carrasco

A Sight to Behold

Sitting on the porch waiting,
purse in lap,
package under arm.
Smiling in anticipation,
feels like going on a date..
Hoping he didn't forget.
Do the neighbors see  
I am just sitting here.
Dogs running around,
funny how they play,
Mock battles ensues
then one gives up
and on the back it goes.
A truck arrives.
Tall man steps out,
walking to the gate.
Smiles appearing
opening the package.
Taking it with gratitude.
Can you use this?            
The man opens the door for her,
then gets in himself.
Both smiling they set off.
Going to lunch I suspect,
mother and son.


Joter 

Pink Sunsets in a Verdant Land

( instead of Verdant Green)
 
Purple mists with humidity
  wet your face purposely
and swiftly falling waterfalls,
cascade from the cliffs happily
 
Orchids violet, and crimson birds
monkeys swinging from the trees
  songs to echo from the green
  dancing beetles and honey bees. (Instead of buzzing beatles)
  
Vines sinewy, hanging down
mother lion looks around
she licks her babies then (instead of than
father roars within the den
 
Mud ponds full of antelope, rhinoceros and buffalo
zebras drinking all the while
  elephants step gingerly
lest they wake the crocodile.
 
Giraffes graze on thick sweet leaves,
snakes to slither and to tease
blue butterflies and an emerald sea (instead of verdant green)
tropical flowers and fish to please
 
Red sunrise with red hot rays
  pink sunsets to give off praise
thunderstorms and monsoon rains
all create these jungle days
by FlaIsleGirl@aol.com

 

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