January 2007 Submissions
Amandine recalled the day she met Pierre. Her job as research assistant in the ethnology department meant that she was almost a permanent visitor to the huge reference library. She specialized in the study of the Amazonian tribes of Brazil, and was always buried deep in thick heavy reference books. One day she needed to get a book from a high shelf, and looked around for a step to stand on. Seeing one a long way off, she went to get it. Upon returning to the shelf with the step, she found him standing there, smiling, handing the book over.
"Please excuse my intrusiveness," he said in perfect English. "I was working over there at the nearby table and saw you needed help. He looked at the book title. You're studying the Amazonian tribes?" Offering his hand, he continued, "I'm Pierre Roustan, visiting professor of medieval history."
Accepting his gesture, Amandine replied, "It's nice to meet you, I'm Amandine Lannes. Thank you for the book; you really didn't have to go through the trouble. All the best books always seem to be on the highest shelves. Yes, I'm an ethnologist and the Amazon is my speciality. How long is your visit?"
"Until the end of the year, then I return to my dusty office at the Sorbonne," Pierre remarked. "You have a very French name, you know? It's from the southwest, where my family also originates. We have a farm called the Les Trois Chênes, the Three Oaks, near Tarbes. It's been in the family since the 15th century."
"My great-grandfather was from the Carcassonne area; he settled in lower Quebec on the eastern coast line of Canada in the mid-18th century. The main family is still there but I was born right here in New York, as my father is into the mercantile business. I've been to France many times to study at the Sorbonne and to visit the southwest."
They met several times in this manner and finally Pierre asked Amandine to go with him to a dinner given by the head of the French department. He explained that she would like the convivial French conversation and environment. She accepted and from that point they made it a regular habit to be together when they found the time.
Finally the shiny ball reached top and champagne bottles were popping every where. Amandine felt a searing pain in the back of her head then everything went black.
Amandine found herself in a carriage in the front of a large iron gate. The sign in front announced the place as Les Trois Chênes. She hardly finished reading the plaque when she remembered that this was Pierre's parents' farm, and suddenly was jolted by the sudden movement of the carriage as the gates swung open. She felt uncomfortable and hot as if she were wearing out of season clothes. Looking around she saw that she was wearing a cornsilk blue dress in what was assuredly the finest brocaded fabric. Over her shoulders was a light-weight wool shawl of a darker shade, and at her feet were dainty slippers. Completely lost in thought, she didn't hear the door of the carriage open and a valet waiting.
"Madmoiselle, Madmoiselle…"
"P … please excuse me," stammered Amandine in French, without thinking . "Could you please tell me what year this is?"
The valet looked starlted at the question. He turned to the driver, then answered in French,
"My Lady, we are in the year of Our Lord fourteen hundred and fifty-three (1453)."
Shocked, Amandine felt frozen to the spot. In the distance she heard a shuffling of feet and another voice, more refined this time. It sounded uncannily similar to Pierre's.
"My dear Wife, you must be very tired after your long voyage. I was sorry to hear about your father's passing, having received your message the day before yesterday. Please come inside and rest a moment," said the voice. Finding the courage to look up at the person speaking, she was astonished to see… Pierre. But it couldn't be; it just wasn't possible. This startling confrontation was too much for Amandine and as she stepped down from the carriage she fainted in his arms.
"Amandine, ma cherie, are you all right?" Amandine heard the familiar voice again and felt something tapping her face. Eyes closed, she moaned in French,
"Oh Pierre, I don't know what's happening, but I'm so glad you're here, no matter what the year or the place is."
"But we are in the first hour of the New Year in New York, Amandine cherie. I took the first plane from Paris to New York and arrived not too long ago. You know how the roads are always clogged in the evenings, especially on this very special night."
Amandine sat up and looked around. She saw Pierre with his quiet smile bending on one knee before her, and Sue Ellen and Mark standing behind him. All around them people were dancing, hopping and shouting, "Happy New Year!" Pierre helped her up and held her with two strong hands.
"Bonne Année, Amandine. I'm so happy to be here with you, and would like to spend the rest of the year with you as well and why not, the rest of my life, too. Please say you think the same."
"I do, Pierre, I do," replied Amandine, remembering her dream.
JoanneHe stood 5 foot 9, thin as a rail
His hair used to be so bright
Gray whitened it thru time
Jeans always, t-shirt too
Cigarette in his mouth, as always
Beer close by
Did he know the combo would make him die?
He started smoking when he was only ten
I guess they didn’t know how bad it was then
And thru the years, he kept smoking those things
Didn’t they know what they did to you?
I’m guessing they didn’t but who knows in the end
Blasted cancer sticks will kill you, my friend
He quit for a time I remember that will
The cloud around his chair disappeared
Till he found out he had cancer again
And that was the end of it
He smoked and smoked until almost the end
Literally until almost the end
I remember well the last weekend he was home
A half of that cancer stick was all he could take
Two days later, I sat by his bed
My Dad in a coma, barely breathing
Each breath harder for him to take
People shouldn’t die like that
I wasn’t there when he breathed his last
I couldn’t take it anymore
I remember the call
I knew he was gone
Four years later
And so much as changed
And yet, I miss my Dad that will stay the same
Marie Kathryn Casalaspro
January 30, 2007Sugar Sugar
(January 30, 2007)
“What the hell is on your mouth?” he asked, moving in for a closer look.
“New stuff to go over your lip gloss. Makes your lips all sparkly. And sexy.”
He looked more closely at her lips and shook his head. “Sorry. I prefer non-sparkly lips.” Tilting her chin up with one hand, he leaned in for a kiss. “But, I’ll take a kiss anyway.”
They both looked up as Scarlett entered the room. “Hey you two. What’s… Blake?”
“Yeah?”
“Why are your lips sparkly?”
Frantically, he wiped at his lips. “See?” he asked Ali. “THIS is why I don’t like that crap!” He continued to rub at his lips.
Ali hid her smile behind one hand; Scarlett didn’t even TRY to hide her amusement. “Ah, but babe,” she giggled, “it makes my lips sooo purty! See?” She turned to Scarlett and pointed at her mouth. “It has a sugary, iridescent pearl powder that decorates my lips with a crystal-cut faceted effect. And it’s available in 5 candy-like colors.” She grinned, having practically recited the blurb on the package verbatim.
Blake continued to rub at his mouth. “Too bad the nasty stuff didn’t TASTE like candy…”
“Can’t have that Blake,” Scarlett teased. “Otherwise we’d never pull you off her.”
“Yeah,” Ali agreed. “Do they make Whopper-flavored lip gloss?”
“Just go away,” he muttered.
“So, he doesn’t like sparkly lips…” Scarlett began.
“Yeah,” Ali murmured, catching on quickly. “Mind sparkles anywhere else?” Blake just gaped at them, not believing what he’s hearing. “Nah, I bet not,” she continued. “Blake’s not into sparkles. Here, Scarlett,” Ali dug into her pocket, pulling out the new Sugar Sugar Lip Topping she’d bought that morning. “I bet Billy’d appreciate sparkly… lips.”
“Yeah,” Scarlett agreed. “I BET he would!” Tucking the container into her left front pocket, she walked out the door. “Meetcha at HQ.”
“Sure thing!” Grabbing a tissue from the end table beside her, she cleaned her lips of all traces of sparkly stuff. “There! All gone. Now I can kiss you goodbye.” She leaned up and pecked him on the cheek. “Better?”
His mind still stuck on the possibilities behind sparkly lip gloss… and the idea that his friend might actually find out, he shook his head weakly. “Um, Ali?”
“Not now, Cowboy. Gotta run.” She blew him a kiss and ran out the door. Closing it behind her, she grinned at Scarlett. “I think we’ve traumatized him.”
“Nah,” she grinned back, “but don’t be surprised if he’s got all five colors waiting for you when you get home tonight!”
Amy
Genta
Genta
A
Mermaid's Tale of Love
by Cheri
It had been a perfect day for quiet thoughts and simple pleasures, like lying
nearly bare under a warm tropical sun. How she loved these islands!
To the sound of enormous waves crashing on the rocks, she adorned her body with
sea shells and flowers, and nothing much else. She was, in fact,
alluring, with her golden hair shimmering and glistening from the wet waves
that showered her body day and night. Her lips were the color of
conch shells, deep coral pink, and as soft as the touch of the sea was against
her body. She waited only for her Captain to put his lips on them. They
were only for him. If only, if only, he would notice her, she
thought. If only she could feel his hands around the places of her
body that ached for him. If only, if only she could feel his lips on
hers, she would have lived a dream come true.
Than a tear came to her eye. For, she was a mermaid.
She could never leave the sea, nor live on land. But she had seen him from afar.
He was tall and handsome, and always wore his white shirt open, his
muscular body appearing tanned and strong. And he commanded a huge ship
with billowing white sails! There were many men under his command, and she
loved to watch him as he belted out commands to them. What would he want with
her, she thought, I am not like him. She had tried to become like
him one evening, though? She had come ashore, in the hopes she may grow
legs, but to no avail. Out of the water too long, she found herself
gasping for air and nearly dying on the beach.
I will try again, she said to herself as she flicked her long, blue tail
and jumped into the sea. Her bare breasts lost the conch shells that were
covering them, and from her hair, she left a trail of orchids. She would
leave them there on the rocks, hoping that her tall, handsome Captain would find
them. Maybe he would become enchanted by them and be put under a love
spell by them. She just knew she loved him dearly. And then
off she swam into the crystal, sparkling depths of the sea to await for him.
No Right Way
(January 22, 2007)
Blake opened one eye and glanced at the caller ID on his cell phone. Groaning, he sat up.
“Who is it, babe?” Ali asked from beside him.
“Melinda. Who else?”
Ali rolled her eyes and forced herself out of bed and into Blake’s discarded t-shirt. Running her fingers through her disheveled hair, she left him sitting on the edge of the bed, ringing phone in hand.
Albert glanced up from the morning paper and did a double take. “What’s the matter? You okay?”
“Yeah…” she replied nervously. “Why?”
“I just wasn’t expecting you up so early. You two aren’t fighting are you?”
“No. Not at all.” She yawned and covered her mouth. “He got a call from Melinda. Thought it best to vacate the bedroom before I could rip the phone out of his hands.”
“Ah, I see.” Albert gave his best friend a sympathetic look. “I’m guessing that this means he still hasn’t told her about you yet?”
Unable to voice her thoughts, she just shook her head.
“That’s not good.”
“No, it’s not,” she sighed, fearing the tears that were so close to the surface. “And I’m not sure who I want to kick harder – me or him.”
“Him, definitely him. You’ve been too long without a nice guy to be held responsible.”
“Gee thanks, Albie,” she replied sarcastically, leaning into the arm he offered her. “Thanks for the therapy session. Can I borrow a pair of your sweats? I wanna go for a run but don’t wanna go back in there.”
“Understood. You know where they are, babe.”
“Thanks, Albie.” She planted a chaste kiss on his forehead and headed for his room.
~*~
“Hey, Mel, what’s up?” he asked, scared of what her answer might be.
“Nothing. Everything. Hell… I don’t know.”
“That doesn’t sound encouraging, honey.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve just…” Her voice trailed off. Taking a deep breath, Melinda forced herself to go on. “There’s a lot I need to talk to you about but I don’t know where to start.”
“Um, start with the good news?”
“It’s yours.”
Blake choked on his response. “What the hell are you talkin’ about, Mel?” He shook his head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs. Afraid he already knew what she meant.
Melinda got angry. “What the f*** do you think I’m talking about, Blake? I’m freakin’ pregnant!”
“No wonder you’re calling at the crack of dawn then.” Unfortunately, the words were out of his mouth long before he realized his mistake.
“Well, excuse me, mister, for disturbing your sleep!” she screamed into the phone. “It IS your fault that I’m in this situation!” Oh god, I sure hope he’s the reason…
Oh no… not this again… “I didn’t do it by myself, Melinda.”
“So this is my fault then?”
“I didn’t say…” he sighed exasperated. “It’s… can we start over?”
Biting off her angry retort, she agreed. “Okay. Let’s try this again. Blake, I’m pregnant. You’re the father. Help me.”
Blake looked at the empty side of the bed and bit his lip. What was he going to do? “I’m sorry this has happened. I don’t know what else to say. It’s not what we’d planned.”
“No s***,” she laughed. “But is it a bad thing, really?”
He smiled weakly and felt some of the tension leave his body. “No, it’s not a bad thing.” At least, not until I tell Ali. Then it’s going to be a bad thing because she’s gonna kill me. “It’s just bad timing.” And that’s an understatement, dumbass.
~*~
Ali picked up speed as she rounded the corner. Trying to remember that she’d forgotten to procure a bra, she refrained from running flat out. It didn’t matter anyway since her thoughts were traveling at twice the speed of light.
He’s going to leave and never come back. There’s no other explanation.
No, he’s going to leave her and not you.
I don’t care… I just don’t want to lose him. I can’t lose him, not now…
The sound of her favorite singer's voice in her ear forced her attention back to her mp3 player. She growled at it when she recognized the song.
Baby I love you
Don’t wanna lose you
Don’t make me let you go
Took such a long time
For me to find you
Don’t make me let you go
“Shut the f…” she began but was distracted by a vibration at her hip. Sighing, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and knocked her earphones off one ear. “What?”
“Gee Cookie,” Blake griped, “I’ve missed you too. Where the hell are you?”
S***. His voice definitely didn’t sound good. He seemed on the edge of breaking down and that was not her cowboy. “I was too tempted to rip the phone out of your hand so I left to give you some privacy.”
He smiled into the phone, imaging the earful Melinda would’ve gotten had Ali done jus that. “So, where are you?”
Ali frowned; he sounded much too desperate. “Out for a run. I’ll be back in two shakes, cowboy. Keep the bed warm, ‘kay?”
“’Kay.” He snapped the phone shut without so much as a goodbye.
Forcing her heart back into her chest, Ali turned towards home.
~*~
She stood in the kitchen, head bent over the sink when she felt the eyes on her back. Turning, she found Albert staring at her. “What now?”
“I’m not sure but I heard him yelling not long after you left. He hasn’t come out since he discovered you weren’t here. He said ‘Where is she?’ I told him I had no idea and he stormed off.”
“Aw, crap.”
“You’re starting to sound just like him, you know?”
“Yeah, I’d noticed. It’s funny when he’s here; annoying when he’s not.” Ali leaned against the kitchen counter and debated on what to do. “So, now what?”
“Now you come back here, with me,” came a voice from the hall. Blake walked into the kitchen, frowning and not looking happy.
“What’s the…” Albert started.
Blake glared at him. “Now, if you don’t mind. I don’t have all day.”
“Um, okay…” Since when? Wasn’t he just last night talking about spending all day in bed? Figuring her questions would soon be answered; she shrugged at Albie and followed her lover down the hall.
Opening the bedroom door, she saw him pacing between the bed and the bathroom. “What’s up, cowboy?”
“We need to talk. And you’re not going to like it.”
Ali sunk down onto the foot of the bed and waited for the worst.
~*~
“And you’re absolutely positive that this baby is yours?” she asked for at least the third time.
“Why would she lie to me?” he raged.
Why wouldn’t she? Ali thought sadly. Especially if she’s been screwing Flint like Albie told me… “I don’t know, Blake. I just don’t know.” She sighed and shook her head. “I give up. Nothing I say is getting through to you and every time I open my mouth, I just p*** you off more. So…”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Me?” Ali asked. “I can’t imagine what’s wrong with me. I finally, finally find an honest, caring man and he runs out on me!”
“I don’t have any choice.”
Ali rolled her eyes, trying desperately to not let her mind go to that dark place it so often likes to visit. “No choice? Just because she’s having your baby?”
“I have to take care of her.”
Wish I could have been that lucky. “You can take care of her without marrying her, you know. You’re going to regret this.”
I already do. “My mother would skin me alive if she knew I didn’t do the right thing. Wouldn’t you expect the same if you were in her position?”
“I wasn’t allowed that option. But that’s another story for another time.”
Blake turned quickly and looked at her. Ali avoided his eyes, knowing she’d said too much. Damn! And it was too late to take it back.
“What are you talking about? You’re not… you know… too?”
Seeing the shock and total fear on Blake’s face, she almost laughed. Instead, she waved one hand in the air. “No, I’m not… I’m not even talking about the present. I… never mind. Let me help you pack.”
She turned to pick a pair of his jeans up off the dresser. Blake took her arm and turned her towards him. “What are you talking about?” he whispered, scared.
Ali refused to meet his gaze. “Its ancient history, cowboy. Now come on. Albie’s made your flight reservations.”
Blake refused to let her go. “Why won’t you tell me?”
She looked into his eyes, then quickly looked away, not able to bear the pain she saw in them. “Because it won’t change a thing and it hurts too much to think about. Talking… talking about it isn’t an option.”
“Ali,” he pleaded.
“Sorry. Pack. Now.”
Watching her go back to gathering his clothes, he had to swallow back a sob. The simple, domestic act of picking up his dirty laundry had made him choke up. Why now? Why was he having such strong feelings for a girl he can no longer have? He did love Melinda… so why was he so ambivalent about this baby? And securing a relationship with her?
What am I going to do without you, Ali?
~*~
“Do you want me to go with you?” Albie offered while Blake was out stowing his suitcase in the car.
Ali shook her head. “No, I think it’ll be easier if its just us. I might actually be able to tell him goodbye if there aren’t any witnesses.” She forced a smile to her face.
“You’re not fooling me,” he chided, pulling her into a hug. “I’ll be here for you when you get home.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled against his shoulder. “I’d better go.”
“Yeah, I’ll have the margaritas waiting.”
Ali couldn’t help but laugh. “Midori, right?”
“Of course!”
~*~
“Your flight’s getting ready to board. You’d better go.”
“Ali…”
“Stop right there. I can’t take any more of this.” She looked out the window at the planes and did her best to ignore him and what he was floundering to say.
Blake looked down at his hands, fisted in his lap. “I’m sorry… I don’t know what else to do.”
“You have to do what you think is right. And if this is it… I won’t stop you.”
“Do you want to stop me?”
Ali bit her lip, hard. Don’t do this to me, she thought irritably. “You’re going to miss your plane. Goodbye, Cowboy. It was nice having you around. I’m gonna miss that smile.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek, pulling back sooner than she wanted to. Blake lifted his hand and reached out for her; quickly she stood and backed away. If he touches me, even once, I’m going to lose it… “See ya in the funny pages, babe.”
“Ali…” he swallowed hard, tried again. “Please, give me a reason not to leave.”
She stopped in her tracks, back still to him. “You’re the one who told me you had to do the ‘right thing’. Don’t make me make your choices for you.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I just don’t wanna let you go. I need you.”
“I need you too, but now I can’t have you. Familiar ground for me.” She wiped the tears from her cheek and glanced back over her shoulder. “Go home to Melinda and be a good husband.” Her heart ached with the words she knew she had to say, true or not. “She can love you better than I ever could. And you were born to be a daddy.” At least that last part was true. She turned and walked away from him for the last time.
He stood, heart on his face, watching the true love of his life walk away… and out of his life forever.
What have I done?
Amy
Anissa
Days of Wine and Roses
© 2007 S. Rhodes
A cold wind blew from the north as Jennifer stood by the graveside. She rested a gloved hand on top of the rough surface of the tombstone and sighed. Gone were the days of wine and roses, and only lonely years she had spent had only amplified her memories.
She stooped and laid a single rose on the hard cold ground. The grass was a dull green, and the wind sent dried leaves swirling into the air. Jennifer picked a few stray leaves off the rose where they had landed.
She smiled to herself as she remembered the day she had first met Neil and how he had showed up at her door with a big bouquet of spring flowers, even though it was mid-winter. A brief image of his boyish face and he had looked at her with appreciation flashed through her mind, and then it was gone.
They had dined at a restaurant that was small and quaint, spending the evening sharing a bottle of wine and conversing easily. He took her home and squeezed her hand, asking is he could see her again. Of course she had agreed.
The months went by, and one day Neil presented her with a large bouquet of red roses and tied onto one of the stems was a ribbon with a ring. They were soon married and although they were happy, they never had children. Jennifer felt a familiar pang of loss and emptiness.
Fifty years was a long time to share your life with someone and the memories were bittersweet, but she wouldn't have traded them for anything else.
Slowly she turned and walked down a path. One day she would be with him again but she would just have to be patient and wait until that day came.
Happy Birthday To Me
Happy birthday to me
‘Nother ring round this tree
I feel like I’m growing
Into what I should be.
Hidden in the dark
I kept putting my art
But now I am seeing
An inspirational spark.
Who would have thought law
Would be my big draw
Not with my writing
But painting Justice with awe.
The reverence I feel
Is personal and real
But to others it also
Has great appeal.
So now I will show
With my paint brush in tow
My painted homage
To the America I know.
From sea to shining sea
My artwork will be
In law offices and I hope
Someday in galleries.
Meredith
Living in a Moment…
(January 15-16, 2007)
Ali looked up from her paperwork briefly. Noting the time, she sighed and went back to the job at hand. There wasn’t a chance in hell she’d get it all done in time.
“I guess I’d better call,” she muttered unhappily to the empty room. Picking up her cell phone, she punched in his number and waited. The strains of her favorite song met her ear as she waited for him to answer.
“Hey babe, I was just thinkin’ about you.”
“Aw, how sweet,” she purred. “But seriously, I’m going to be late.”
“How late?” he asked, cautiously.
“Um, like maybe tomorrow?”
“Aw, Ali! You promised!”
“I know, Cowboy, but I can’t get out of this.”
“You promised to make me two New Year’s Resolutions this year. Remember?”
“Yeah.”
“And do you remember what they were?”
“Of course. I promised to not work so much…” she started.
“Exactly!”
“…when I could help it,” she finished.
“And you can help it, this time.” He growled back. “It’s only paperwork. Finish it tomorrow.”
“They want it today.”
“Tell ‘em to finish it themselves.” He shook his head silently, wanting desperately to yell at her, but knowing that’d only get his butt kicked later on. “And do you remember what your other promise was for the New Year?”
“Just not to work so much.”
“Nope. You’re forgetting one.”
“And that one was?” She lifted her mug of cocoa to her lips, waiting for his answer.
“To be sluttier,” he reminded her proudly.
Ali choked on the hot liquid. “Ex-squeeze me?”
“You promised to be sluttier.”
“Um, okay then. Bring a friend.”
“Ali! That’s not what I meant!” he bellowed in mock outrage.
“Well, then clarify next time.” She grinned. She remembered her other promise now. To make a point to spend more time with him. NOT necessarily to be sluttier. Although, when they were together those kinds of things tended to happen on their own.
It’d been hard on their relationship these last few months, always being apart. He being on the road constantly, attempting to have a career as a musician. She was constantly going here and there and back again for her job. It hadn’t been easy, but they’d make it work. And now that he’d gotten some time off – several weeks, in fact – he expected her to stick to her promises.
“If only I could, Cowboy,” she whispered.
“Huh?”
Damn! She’d forgotten she was on the phone. “Nothin’ babe. Please let me get this finished. I’ll call you when I’m done.”
“You’ve got until 7:30, like we discussed. If you’re not here by then, I’m calling Scarlett and taking her out tonight instead.”
Ali wanted to be angry. Really. But, of all the friends to choose to tease her with, he picked the one who had a boyfriend almost as hot as hers. Laughing, she teased back, “Sure, go ahead. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to get out right about now.”
“I’m serious, Cookie. Either you’re here at 7:30 like you promised, or there’s going to be hell to pay. I’ve only got a few weeks and I’m not going to waste them waiting on you.” Blake took a deep breath and softened the threat a bit. “I’d much rather waste my time with you. Got it?”
“Yeah. Got it.”
“Good. See you in an hour.”
Ali sighed and closed her phone. How was she going to get all this done in an hour? The answer was, she wasn’t. So, what was most important?
Blake.
Hands down, that had to be her answer. She had the distinct impression he was going to kick her to the curb if she didn’t shape up. And soon. When he was on the road, she could work herself into a coma. When he was home? He refused to give her the option.
So, what could wait?
Really, none of it. She’d been putting it off; doing only what was needed and hoping for a miracle to take care of the rest. If only they hadn’t dumped so many extra responsibilities on her at the start of the year.
Prioritize.
She shuffled through the pile in front of her. This was done; she set it to the right. So was this; it went with the other. This was low-priority; it could wait. She put it off to the left. This was half-done; she really should finish it just because. It went in the middle. Two more that were low-priority went into the pile on the left. One more that was done. Another that was half-finished.
“I must’ve been more distracted than I thought,” she mumbled.
“What was that?” asked her friend and co-worker, Scarlett, as she sat down across from Ali.
“Huh?” she looked up, startled. “Oh. I have two reports here that I started and never finished. Just wondering how distracted I really am.”
“Well, if I had a gorgeous man just sitting at home waiting on me, I think I’d be even more distracted than that.” She laughed. “Hell, I wouldn’t be distracted at all – I’d be HOME!”
Ali smiled at her friend. She had a very valid point.
“Here,” Scarlett reached out for one of the half-done reports. “Give me one and you do the other. The rest can wait till tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Red.”
“No problem.” She grinned evilly. “Just remember this when I need you next weekend.”
Ali laughed a real, happy laugh this time. “Sure thing! Just remember – if it’s a girl, name it after me!”
Scarlett kicked her friend under the table and rolled her eyes. “Ya think I’d name my kid after you? And wait for her to turn out like you? No way!”
~*~
Ali arrived on Blake’s doorstep at 7:37. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and raised her fist to knock, not knowing what to expect. Her fist fell heavily into the center of Blake’s chest. She opened her eyes, surprised.
“Um, ‘knock knock?’” she asked feebly.
“You’re late,” he grumbled sternly. “But I guess ya can come in anyway. Haven’t gotten around to calling in your replacement yet.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Grinning, he kissed her quickly. “Glad to see you made it, even if you are seven minutes late.”
“Yeah, but who’s counting?”
“Well, not me, that’s for certain.”
“Glad to hear it,” she laughed as she passed him.
Blake shut the door behind her and followed his lover into the living room. She settled into her favorite chair and bent over to take her shoes off. He watched her untie her boots and methodically place them beside her chair. Everything she did had that sort of preciseness about it. Guiltily, she looked up to find him watching her. She quickly shoved her boots to the side, knowing he was about to tease her over it.
“Well,” he began, “looks like you’ve managed to partially keep one of your resolutions.”
“Oh shut up!” she teased him. “I never promised to become your personal entertainment system. I only promised to spend more time with you.”
“More time in bed with me maybe?”
“Whatever, Cowboy. I’ve got a feeling I won’t win this argument either way.” She watched him lower his tall frame onto the floor in front of her.
“Nope, you sure won’t because even if we fight, we’ve gotta make up, right?” He leaned into her legs and gave her lower-half a one-armed hug.
“Oh, I suppose.”
(January 16, 2007)
“So, how much did you leave undone?”
“Three. Had three done and two half-done. Scarlett took one of the half-completed reports and I did the other. Happy?”
“Well, it’s a start,” he teased, kissing her kneecaps.
Growling, she swatted at his ever-present cowboy hat, flipping it off his head and onto the floor behind him.
“Now,” he said as seriously as he could manage, “you do realize you’re gonna have to pay for that?”
“Is that a threat?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Well then, make me pay, Cowboy. I dare ya!”
Blake just shook his head and wondered, “Why me?”
Amy
Freewrtie, Seer of Souls chapter one.
In this chapter information on the village is given,
I also changed
tenses, past tense is easier to write. Expect further chapters to be
written in past tense
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The hot midday sun beat down on Salla's head as she
yanked purple
tursces roots from the hard soil of the fields. It had been a month
since the destruction of her village, she and the survivors were doing
their best to repair the damage even as they mourned lost loved ones.
Only forty-six survivors from a village that had numbered close to
three hundred. Not really a village, Salla remembered sadly, more of a
small town. So many dead, so many familiar faces missing. Those that
had been to young to help with the attempts to rebuild had been left
with the village elder and his sister. Everyone else was either
gathering what food stock they could or trying to salvage something
from the burned village.
They were still living in the caves, those who were
able bodied enough
to work on a house were few. The village of seers it had been called,
over have of the people having the ability to see and hear the spirits
of the dead. The village was a haven for the sighted, unlike the
stories from outside, of those with the sight being persecuted, driven
off or even killed. Now only Salla and the Elder had active gifts. The
gift only becomes active after puberty, those few who were born active
were severely weaker than those whose gift comes later. Many of the
surviving children would have active gifts, those that do not have
active gifts would most likely have children with active gifts.
Salla had heard tales of different types of gifts,
but she had never
known any gift but her own.
A trickle of sweat fell into her eyes, the salty
water stinging
briefly before being blinked away. Salla stood slowly and gazed around
her, there was so much work to be done still, yet winter approached
fast as the cold nights told tale of despite the heat of day. Soon the
first frost would be on them, killing many of the crops that were
still within the earth. There were not enough hands to pick them all.
Salla sighed, picking up the half full basket she made her way to the
next row of tursces, there was still thirty rows to be picked,
something that had to be done before sunset.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tanait wiped her sweaty brow, she stood among tall
rows of Caldre, the
sweet yellow vegetable with a hard skin, she had gotten a great many
of them picked, but knew there were so many more to be taken from the
stalks. It was getting late though, the sun already descending so it
could sleep until the next day, its light would waken the moons, the
gentle gold and silver light from the twin moons would bathe the land
soon, hopefully inspiring more silver faley fruit to ripen on the
golden leaved fenton trees.
Tanait looked over, toward the end of this row of
stalk stood a young
boy, barely nine as he stood on his toes to reach a high Caldre. He
was so young, she thought, we are all so young. Tanait shook her head,
sending red hair flying about her face. "Damon, come on, its time to
return." She called, her voice gentle. Damon looked over at her, his
green eyes serious as he slowly nodded and started to carry his basket
back to the caves. Tanait knew he would accept no aid from her, even
though she had offered before. He did not want to be a burden on
anyone, he wanted to make his mother proud from where she watched over
him in the soul mists.
The setting sun cast odd shadows as Tanait and Damon
walked back to
the caves, the shadows creating illusions of movement between the
trees to the side of them. It was unsettling, no matter how many times
they made this walk it was still difficult not to jump and scream at
the shadows. They joined others coming from the fields, they huddled
together as they made their way back to their shelter, their eyes
darting about, watching for any dangers.
They breathed a sigh of relief when they arrived at
the caves,
relaxing slightly they entered, making their way to the last cave in
the five cavern chain, they set their baskets with the many others
there. It was coldest in this cave, having been used for storing food
for as long as the village had known of them. Tanait made her way to
the central cavern where the elder sat watching the infants and
toddlers. "Has Salla returned yet, grandfather?" she asked him. He
looked at her, his eyes full of sadness at the familiar term, all the
villagers had called him grandfather.
"Not yet, child, not yet."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Salla stood in front of the fenton tree that grew
beside her house,
its fruit had all been picked, its bark blackened by the fire and
smoke. She placed her work worn hand on the trees trunk, it had always
stood there, for as long as she could remember she could climb the
limbs during play, eat the fruit when hungry. As she gazed at the tree
a feeling stirred within her heart, sadness and hate, grief and anger,
"Why!?" she cried to to the heavens as she sank to her knees, her
clenched hands beating the dirt at the trees base she sobbed, for what
seemed the thousands time.
A fire lit Salla's eyes, her eyes clearing of its
tears. Her gaze
firmed as the first inklings of what would be a monumentous decision
formed in her mind. It was small at the moment, but it would grow.
Salla stood and strode to the caves, her face calm
as the tear tracks
dried. There was still much to do before the spring came, so much to
do.
Chapter 2
More info, next chapter I hope to have a bit of action though I can't
promise it, action is hard to write.
Thank you everyone who has read this story so far.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The months passed, the cave steadily filled with
fruit and vegetables
that they picked, with the slabs of meat that had been dried and
salted for the long winter. The house was finally finished as the
first snows of winter came, the people rushing to move what little
they had salvaged into it before they froze. There were no beds, bales
of straw had been layered on the floors of the one room house, one
wall was filled with a brick fire place that they had all worked to
build, taking the bricks from the burnt houses to do so.
Tanait had her hands full, teaching the children the
basics that they
would need to control their gift, even though Tantait had no gift of
her own she was adept at teaching others about it, as the elder had
trained her to. Tanait was filled with worry for her friend, Salla
spent most of the time practicing with a wooden sword, performing the
basic exercises that each village child was taught. Everyone had found
something to take their minds of their loss, though Salla seemed to be
preparing for something. Tanait had the feeling that what she was
preparing for would take her far away.
Winter moved slowly for all, but like all things it
came to an end.
Spring thaw descended, the snow clearing away.
Salla had came forward on the first day of snow, she
had something
important to tell them.
"Grandfather, I want to take a journey."
Salla said, her voice firm,
her eyes hard. She sat in the center of the house, her hands clenched
on her knees.
"A journey? A journey to where?" The elder
said, he showed no
surprise, he had been expecting this for some time.
"Anywhere, everywhere." Salla said.
"Why? Why do you want to leave?" The elder replied in turn.
"To find out why the solders came, who sent
them." Salla said, her
voice quivering with emotion.
"Hmmmm," the elder said, he looked Salla
over, seeing the resolve in
the set of her mouth and eyes, the determination in her to find the
answers to her questions,"very well, very well my dear. I have two
things for you before you leave and some small wisdom from when I
traveled myself. In the corner by the fire place is a cloth wrapped
bundle and a metal box, bring them here."
Salla stood and went to the corner, the cloth had
many burn spots and
was a gray color, it was the size of her arm and heavy when she picked
it up. The box was heat warped and blackened, small and light. She
carried them over to the elder who took them into his arms. He held
them briefly before slowly unwrapping the bundle,"This belonged to my
son, he left it with me when he passed away, as he had no children of
his own." he said, his eyes hazy with tears as he recalled old
memories. The cloth fell away to reveal a battered scabbard holding a
short sword.
He carefully held the sword out, inviting Salla to
take it. Salla
gently lifted the sword into her arms. The elder pulled out a key
which had a leather thong laced through it so that it could hang from
his neck, he fit the key in the box, opening it with a creak from the
hinges, inside were several pieces of yellow paper and a cracked
leather pouch, he withdrew the pouch and set the box aside. The elder
gestured for Salla to hold out her hand, which he took in his old and
withered one and dumped the contents of the pouch into her hand, it
contained many metal coins, gold and silver and bronze and steal,
Salla's breath caught, she had never seen so much money before.
"You can use these, haven't got any use for
them anymore." The elder
told her, his faded blue eyes sad.
Salla looked up at him, startled,"I can? All this for me?"
"Yes, my dear, for you." the elder
replied,"I have little information
on the outside, but what I do know is this; There are many gifted in
this world, as such there are also many magic users as well. The gifts
and magic go to anyone, so there are bad and good people like us out
there. Magic users are gifted as well, but only in small amounts. Be
careful, not everyone will accept you, not all gifted will want you
near."
"Alright, grandfather, but, how can I tell who
is magic?" Salla asked,
her forehead wrinkled in puzzlement as the hand containing the money
fell to her lap.
"I can't answer that, child, as I don't know."
Salla was silent at this, her mind whirled at the
idea that other
gifted might not like her, she had always thought that other gifted
liked having those like them near.
"Come, let us sleep now, you must get up with
the sun to begin your
journey." the elder said, his voice firm.
Salla nodded slowly and made her way to her blanket
that lay on the
hay, she set the sword beside her with the pouch and laid down. As
soon as her head hit the hay she fell asleep. Her dreams were chaotic
and confused, full of fiery and bloody images.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tanait stared at the cross beams of the ceiling, her
thoughts dwelling
on the changes of the day, Salla was leaving, Salla who was her best
friend sense they were toddlers, was leaving the village. For the
first time in her life she would be without her best friend to talk
to, her best friend to help her. It was unnerving. Such a new and
disturbing idea, Tanait worried. Would she be able to do it? To stand
on her own? Would she be strong enough without Salla? Tanait didn't
know if she could do it, but she knew she had to try.
Tanait swore to herself she would be strong, so that
when Salla
returned she would be proud of her. Salla was only leaving physically
after all, some part of Salla would always remain in the village.
Tanait closed her eyes and fell asleep, her dreams
many and varied.
She saw her friend die, saw her return in a billowing gown and jewels
in a gold embossed carriage. She saw memories of the past and
illusions of the future. She saw herself falling.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Morning came too soon for all. Today was the day one
of them would be
leaving, perhaps never to return. The villagers had put together a
sack full of what supplies they could spare. Food and water, a knife,
plate and cup, an old battered pan. Salla stood in her breeches and
tunic, her thread bare cloak drawn tight across her shoulders. She
felt fear, she was entering a whole new world; full of unknown dangers
and many mysteries. She felt though that this was right. Something
that she needed to do.
Salla hugged everyone, promising to send spirit
messages often,
promising to tread carefully. She said farewell to them, her eyes
misted with tears as she listened to well wishes and pleas that if it
became to much out there for her to return home. Salla slowly walked
down the path that would lead out of the village, she fought the urge
to turn around, knowing that if she did she would run right back.
Her journey begun, she felt scared and alone, though
she still felt
deep within that she must continue on.
Jessa
Anissa
Resolutions for the New Year
Did I make a resolution on
This auspicious New Year’s Day?
Did I promise once again to lose
The weight that’s in my way?
Did I promise once more to exercise
To work-out, walk and run?
Did I say that I would clean my house
And keep working till it’s done?
Did I promise I would be more kind,
More loving, more sincere?
Did I say I’d update my resume
Maybe start a new career?
No, I made no promises this year
No resolves for me to break
I thought it best to leave it be
The high road I would take
This year I’ll live each shining day
Just as it comes to me
And fill each page with hope and joy
Alive and hopeful – free!
Maiden Fair
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