March 2007 Submissions

Seer of Souls

Chapter 3

This chapter was hard to write, the action scene just would not
cooperate with me, I had to rewrite lots, though it is still not the
greatest.

Introducing two new characters!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Bird song serenaded Salla as she walked under the branches of great
trees just beginning to bud with new spring leaves. The lovely melody
brought a smile to Salla's lips, she had always loved bird song, such
lovely tunes that could not be mimicked by human lips. The sound
lifted Salla's spirits greatly, boasting the girls courage.

Salla had been walking for several hours, when she turned to gaze
behind her she could no longer see her village. She walked on, it was
a lovely day, the birds singing, the sun shining. Salla knew that
could change quickly though, the only annoyance was the biting of
leech-flies that seemed to be everywhere; but she could deal with
that. She faced the itchy bites of the insects every day when she
worked in the fields.

The pack on her back was heavy, yet she knew that its burden was a
needed one. With out it she would have no food or water. Though that
did not stop her from wishing it was lighter. She hummed to herself,
trying to mimic the bird song around her.

A loud clamber startled the birds and Salla into silence. She ran up
ahead, her heart pounding in her chest. Around the bend in the road
she saw what had made that noise, there were two men and a thing, a
creature she had never seen before. One of the men had red hair and a
sword, which he was using to hack at the snarling creature as the
black haired man threw glowing balls of fire at the thing. Salla stood
in awe and fright, she had never seen anything like this before, the
creature was covered in gray scales as a slimy green liquid dripped
from sharp fangs, it stood on two tinkly muscled legs, as two stubby
arms toped with long red stained claws sliced threw the air at the two
men. It was large, a foot taller that the men from where Salla stood,
quickly she darted behind a tree, watching the fight from her shelter.

The creature was tiring, or so it seemed to Salla, its movements
getting slower by the minute the mens attacks wearing it down slowly.
Its breathing was labored as reddish foam gathered at the corners of
its mouth. The beast let out a shrieking roar, the sound hurting her
ears and reverberating down her spine. The creature lunged forward,
one last attack before it fell to the hard comforts of the earth. Its
sides heaved briefly before at last it was still.

The men stood, panting heavily from the battle. The red haired man
strode up to the creature and lifted its paw, he severed the claws and
placed them into a pouch with a look of distaste upon his face. The
men exchanged words that Salla could not hear before turning away from
the corpse and walking down the road.

Salla's eyes widened, she quickly darted out from behind the tree and
ran forward, the only though on her mind that she must catch up with
these men.

"Hey! Wait please!" Salla called as she ran.

The men halted, darting bewildered glances at each other they turned,
facing Salla.

Salla stopped in front of them, breathing heavily from her sprint.

"Miss, may I ask what is it that you want from us?" The black haired
man asked, his voice light and airy.

"I wished to know how far the nearest village was from here, please do
you know this?" Salla asked.

The man blinked, surprised to hear those words from a traveler.

"Why, it is not far, miss, only a couple hours journey from here." He
replied.

The red haired man had not spoken, his golden eyes looked searchingly
into Salla's own before he smiled widely.

"Miss, we would be pleased to travel with you there, if that is where
you are going, we also are headed there and company is always
welcome." The red haired man spoke.

The black haired man started in surprise at these words.

"Oh, yes, thank you. I am Salla," Salla replied, her eyes aglow, "who
would you be?"

"I am Viran, this is my partner Diamond. We are pleased to meet you."
The red haired man replied.

Diamond stared at Viran before he too smiled brightly.

"Yes, we are very pleased to meet."

Salla felt relieved, she thought she would have to journey alone for a
long while, she did not know that there was a village so near to her
own, even though there lie several miles between the two. The day was
still young and she felt no concern at traveling with two men, as two
hours would pass quickly and she would be with in a village soon. She
hoped that others that she meet along the way would be so friendly.

Unknown to Salla a conversation was taking place, one that no ears
could hear.

Viran? Why did you invite this girl along with us? Diamond though.

Because she is young, naive, don't you see? She is easy pickings for
any wicked beings that would chance upon her. A gifted who does not
know the world. Viran replied, his eyes faintly sad.

She is gifted? Diamond thought his eyes widening briefly with surprise.

Yes, not like myself of course, but gifted just the same.

You feel empathy for her. Diamond stated.

She is like my sister, but that matters not. We shall escort her to
the village and give her some much needed advice, after that she is on
her own. Viran replied, his mental voice firm.

Oh, I doubt that. But believe what you will, I can already see how
this will go. Diamond said, a burst of amusement, feeling like fluffy
cotton and purple shimmers resounding through out Virans mind.

It will! We are leaving her at the village! Viran cried, his mental
voice exasperated.

Diamond only sent laughter in return, his attention on Salla.

"So why ever do you journey, miss Salla?"

"Just to travel, my father journeyed far and wide before i was born
and I wished to do the same, though I know little about the world
outside my village." Salla replied with the story she had decided on
before she left, telling people she met that she sought revenge was
not a good idea in her mind.

"Ah! To walk in your fathers foot steps! Many a traveler shares the
same sentiment as you." Diamond said, his eyes dancing. He knew that
was not the true tale, but he let it lie.

"And you mister Diamond? Mister Viran? Why do you journey?" Salla
asked, curiosity lacing her voice.

"To seek fame and fortune, miss." Viran spoke, darting a sly glance at
Diamond, their tale was not true as well.

Salla smiled, her steps light, the company kept her mind from dwelling
on what she had lost and left behind.

The three walked on, towards the village of Sertany, none of them
truly knowing all that fate had in store once they arrived.

Jessa


Opposites

Love/hate
warm/cold
up/down
yes/no

love you/hate me
warm hugs/cold stare
up above/down below
oh yeah!/no, I dare

love is blind/hate is not
hugs abound/stares are few
above is good/below is bad
oh yeah! More!/I dare you to...

Robbie


What If's
 
There are many what-ifs that leave me stiff,
as I'm left to ponder alone.
Waiting for that little word, that is left unheard,
the word that they are coming home.
 
All I can do, is lay in my bed
as many thoughts run through my head.
Wondering, if he's going to be okay and
praying for that wonderful day, when
he will no longer be away.
 
After a marriage of 21 years, how do I
overcome these many fears.  Then,
I hear a voice from up above,
saying angels will watch over those we love.
 
I feel the angel's eyes on me, telling me
that soon, home with me he will be

Sheena


Alone
 
I have never before felt so alone as I do now.  I feel as if a piece of me,
has been temporarily removed and is just barely out of my reach.
 
Now, I have learned to appreciate such precious moments of stolen kisses,
the feel of his body laying next to me gently asleep, but most of all,
I miss having a shoulder to lay on.
 
These feelings I know, are not mine alone, these are the feelings
of a Army wife. A wife left alone while her husband is away in
a foreign land, fighting an enemy that may be unforeseen.
 
 
Sorry to be so depressing.  My husband has just deployed to Afghanistan for a year,
and I'm having a rough time today.  Let me know what you think

Sheena


Guardian

Tall, steady
strong, silent
feathered wings crested upon his back
silently in place
my angel, strong and beautiful
guarding from the strife
standing in his shadow
safe as can be
guardian angel
keep guarding me
 
Keep his lamb safe
as she moves closer to the Shepherd
 
March 27, 2007
Added to March 30, 2007
 
Marie Kathryn Casalaspro

Quit?

Tired, worn
can't go on
should I quit
or battle on?
 
Struggling, sweat running down my brow
want to quit
but don't know how
quitting is not something i do
 
Angry, mad, can't take anymore
find the strenght
cause quitting
isn't going to work
 
The battle is not forever
it's only for now
push on, I pray
no quitting today
 
Marie Kathryn Casalaspro
March 28, 2007

To live again, inside this dream.

Away from the pain, away for the game

Always played, never won. Inside a heart

Of cracked stone, hides a girl of simple joys

A smile, touches barely her soul

A simple gesture of kindness a treasure to behold

A secret dream of love to be told

To live again would be to grand

To once more be able to stand,

And face a world that locked her away

In a prison of painful sorrow, some day it will okay

A hidden promise behind her tear-filled eyes

Nothing made a difference despite the tries

Sitting out in the middle of the night

To live again her wishing plight.

 

Lupa DeDanna


The Little Fairy ©
 
 
The only thing Jeannie enjoyed about spring cleaning was the fact that she always found something that had been lost for a long time. Today she, her mother and younger sister Millie were going to their great-Uncle Sam's old house to clean out the old junk he collected during his 65 year marriage with great-Aunt Mary. With both of them now gone, the house was going to be sold and the money distributed among his four nieces and nephews, as Sam and Mary were childless. Because they weren't able to have children, they decided to use their free time globe-trotting and had amassed a large collection of artefacts from their travels to many different places all over the world. She hoped that she and her fiancé Bernie could do that right after they were married, just before the thinking about children. But before they could get married Bernie needed to pass important tests to make sure he was entirely cured of his leukaemia, and this was going to take some time. Jeannie wanted to visit the Far East, especially Japan, with its beautiful temples and gardens.

 

Jeannie immediately volunteered to do the attic. She was curious to see what she would find among the boxes and trunks that occupied each corner of the old dusty and spider-webbed attic. After agreeing that lunch hour was 1 o'clock, she grabbed a broom, duster, pail and shovel, and headed for the large central stairway that lead to the upstairs bedrooms, then through a thick door that lead up a narrow stairway. Searching for a light switch, Jeannie saw that it wouldn't work. Leaving the attic door open, she felt her way as she climbed up the stairs, one by one, holding her cleaning things in both hands. As she reached what she thought was the last step, the light suddenly switched on. She was really only in the middle of the narrow staircase; meaning that the upstairs rooms had ceilings that were higher than the ground floor rooms.

 

Reaching the top of the stairs, Jeannie found that the attic windows, located on all four of the walls, were much larger inside the attic than they appeared from outside the house, and allowed a great deal of light come in. She glanced around and noticed that everything already placed in neat piles on the right and left sides of the stairs. That meant that her brother Joe was here before them; she secretly thanked him for arranging the boxes, now she could just open them up one by one and mark which ones were to be kept and which ones given away.  Jeannie decided to start on the right side of the attic. "Well, here goes," she thought. Glancing at her watched she saw it was 9 o'clock. "Let's get ready for a long morning."

 

By eleven o'clock Jeannie went through all the boxes and marked down only one that she thought was worth keeping; all the rest were pure junk, and wouldn't interest anyone. She made herself comfortable on the floor and lifted up a small ornate box labelled " Japan, 1939." Jeannie put the box on the floor in front of her and gently and slowly lifted the cover. A strong aroma of fine oriental incense used in Buddhist temples enveloped the surrounding air and Jeannie suddenly felt as though she were far way, in an entirely different atmosphere. She pulled out what appeared to be a book wrapped in rice paper. It appeared as though it had never been opened. "Should I open it?" she thought to herself. Deciding the affirmative, she put the small box on the floor next to her and began to remove the layers of fine rice paper, surprised the paper didn't rip as she lifted each layer. On her knees she found what appeared to be a small picture book. Jeannie opened the front cover and found it was written in Japanese. Slowly turning the pages she saw beautiful hand painted pictures of a land far away, some pages had captions in Japanese characters. So absorbed in her contemplation of the little book, Jeannie seemed to lose sense of time and space. As she arrived at the middle of the book, a tiny sparkle grew larger and larger and there before stood a little fairy, the size of a man's hand. Jeannie was too surprised to utter a sound. She held out her hand and the little fairy alighted on it. She was dressed in a silvery blue kimono with a large white obi (large belt) in the pure Japanese style. She bowed ceremoniously and announced her name in perfect English: "My name is Sayuri-san and I thank you for releasing me from my bond." Jeannie stepped back and put her hand on her moth. Not only this little creature come out from no where, but it also spoke her own language!

 

"How is that you can speak my language, you who surely must not no any other country than    your own?" asked Jeannie.

"I am a fairy and have the ability to adapt to my surroundings. As I see you are not Japanese, I have intercepted your language and adapted my own to accommodate it. My primary function is to help those who come in contact with me to fulfil their most cherished desire. A jealous wizard captured me as I was helping his daughter and forced me into this book, which is a thousand years old. Now that I am released I can now complete my work and then be freed forever. What is your most cherished desire?"  

"My most important desire…" pondered Jeannie. "Oh, I'm sorry for my lack of manners," Jeannie quickly replied. "My name is Jeannie, and the book you were, uh, captured in, belonged to my great-Uncle Sam, who apparently never opened it after he arrived here. You mean to tell me you have been in that little book for a thousand years?"

"Yes, a thousand years," smiled Sayuri the Japanese Fae. "I have come into your life to help make your dearest wish come true."

 

"Jeannie, Jeannie, are you up there?" Jeannie suddenly became aware that some one was calling her from the stairway.   "Lunch is ready; you should come out of that dust and eat. We'll be leaving within the next hour or so as I have to go shopping for dinner. We'll be back tomorrow with Joe and the pick-up truck to take what we're going to keep back to the house.

"Yes, I'll be down in a moment," Jeannie called from the top of the stairs.

 

Gathering up the little book and its wrapping paper, Jeannie rushed down the stairs, the little fairy fluttering behind her. Placing the book and the folded wrapping on the table, she went to the kitchen sink and washed her hands. Millie took the book and stared flipping though the pages. Jeannie, turning and seeing Millie, gave her a look that said, "Put that down or else!" She noticed that no one said any thing about the fairy fluttering next to her head.

Leaning against the sink, she said, "As a matter of fact, there's a fairy in this room," just to find out if anyone else was aware of it.

Millie's eyes lit up, "Where? Where?" she shouted, looking around the room.

"You know, Jeannie," said her mother, "I think you've been reading too much fairy tales to the Bradley kids that it's beginning to go to your head. I don't mind you babysitting them everyday, but you're going to have to make them understand that there are other kinds stories to read, more realistic modern stories without fairies, wicked wizards and demure demoiselles. I mean, who's the boss, you or them?"

Jeannie and the fairy looked at each other; she realized that the fairy was visible only herself.

"Mom, it's not just the stories; it's also the mythical video games, too," replied Jeannie.

 

After lunch Jeannie helped her mother bring the boxes downstairs that Joe was to put in the pick-up the next day, and then everyone prepared to leave. It was Saturday and Jeannie wanted to take time that afternoon to visit Bernie in the hospital.

As she got in the car, she asked her mother to drop her off at the small hospital. She was going to offer Bernie the book to read during those long hours he had to wait during his examinations. Notwithstanding the Japanese characters, he might find the pictures soothing and contemplative. Thursday was the last day of the week's medical exams; if they all came out negative, Bernie could be assured he is totally cured, and leave the hospital. But they won't know that until today or Monday morning at the latest, if the doctor shows up.

 

Although the hospital wasn't very big, it was bustling with Saturday visitors and Jeannie had to weave in between individual groups to get to the double elevators. Her little fairy friend followed, hovering over the heads of visitors in the elevators. She wanted to tell her something, but didn't want to appear like she was talking to herself. Arriving at the third floor, she passed the nurses' station and went around the corner to Room 312, where Bernie shared a room with an older patient. Jeannie knocked, opened the door a crack, and saw Bernie turned to the wall, trying not to hear the visitors on the other side of the room. She came into the room, nodded to the other visitors, and drew the drapes around Bernie's bed, hiding them from the others. He looked tired and a bit flushed, but his brown eyes behind black rimmed glasses were filled with love for her. She smoothed his tangled brown hair and took his face in her hands. Kissing him, she smiled handed him the book. Bernie looked at it, returning a broad smile.  

"How did you come across this little jewel?" he asked. In his job as the city's junior museum curator/researcher he often came across mysterious objects like this.

"I found it in my great-Uncle Sam's attic…you know, the globe-trotter uncle? You'll never believe what came with it," she answered.

"And what came with it?"

"A little Japanese Fairy named Sayuri-san."

 

Meanwhile, Sayuri fluttered back and forth, up and down over Bernie's head, and looked at Jeannie. She understood right away what her most sincere wish was, and nodded.

"A fairy came with is book? Are you pulling my leg?"

"No, I'm not. She's there, right over your head." Bernie looked up, and didn't see anything.

"Just close your eyes for a moment and imagine a little Japanese girl the size of your hand wearing a silvery blue kimono with a large white obi. She flutters with wings like a humming bird. I can see her now, right next to your right ear. No, don't open your eyes. She is whispering something in your ear; can you hear it?"

 

Sayuri whispered in Bernie's ear, "Have confidence, you're totally cured and will live a long life with your beloveds."

"Yes, I heard something…it was a soft and soothing; it felt so good. "

 

They talked a little longer, and when Jeannie was getting ready to leave, there was a knock at the door. Dr Martin, who was Bernie's specialist, walked in holding a folder. He nodded to the patient in the other bed, whose visitors had long left, and coming around to Bernie's side nodded at Jeannie. They looked at him, not knowing what to expect.

"Before I leave the hospital for the weekend, I wanted pass by and give you the good news, especially since I know you were a bit anxious. The news I have will make you feel a lot better and calm your nerves, which aren't doing your blood pressure any good," he laughed.

"Have confidence," he said. "You're totally cured and will surely have a long life with your loved ones."

 

Jeannie knew this was what Sayuri was whispering in Bernie's ear, that indeed, this was what she desired most than anything else in the world. She looked around for her little friend, but she was no where to be seen. Jeannie understood that, in accomplishing the charge for which she was created, Sayuri no longer needed to be on the earth plane. Secretly she thanked her little friend with all her being, and promised she'll never forget her as long as she lived.

 
©Joanne Pons March 24, 2007

Stealing Midnight stars

 
Sitting on the swing
Words lingering in the air
Uneasy at what was said
Needing something so easily
 
Something special happening
Taking your hand
Following you almost anywhere
Fitting easily into your arms
 
Looking in your eyes
Enjoying your embrace
Savoring your lips
Impressed with a moment like this
 
Smiling at the feeling of your hands
Moaning softly against your neck
Initiating something special
Simply stealing midnight stars
Genta

Senses
 
To feel love…
To share love
To have love
Is to be loved
 
I sit and wonder you feel
You tell me it more than the obvious
You want more than physical attributes
But it’s when things aren’t physical
You have issues
 
To feel love
To share love
To have love
Is to be loved
 
I observe others in love and wonder
Wonder why things are not similar
I soon realize that maybe
Our love doesn’t run deep
 May be the lust never developed
 
To feel love
To share love
To have love
Is to be love
Genta
Your Father’s Daughter
 
You often stated that’s who you was
He was who you went to for guidance
He was your rock and inspiration
 
I never knew why or understood the connection
Not until I met him & witnessed the interaction
I understood he was there without hesitation
He never passed judgment
 
You have a piece of him with you
Not sure if you realize it
You have everything he did
He continues to be a source of your strength
 
As a father’s daughter, it is not important to be dainty
She believes in hard work
Going above and beyond is a job well done
She never settles for the easy
 
You’re making your place in life
You’re slowly finding your true self
You’re more than a friend
You’re someone who is true
 
Your father’s daughter
Through and through

*For Sarah*

Genta



The Crocus

far beneath the frozen snow
she turns up her head
and begins to grow


first flower of spring
to come 'midst the ice
early each spring
her presence  is nice



she knows not what...
be it rain or snow
yet, her blossoms push up
to brighten the show



Crocus, little Crocus
the first sign of spring...
come early with beauty


Cheri


Memories of Love

 

I enjoy the fell of satin

As it slides across my skin

Remembering days of passion

Laced with laughter on a whim

 

I dream about the journey

That we took from there to here

And wonder what has happened

As I wipe away a tear

 

Remember walks we’ve taken

On the sun dappled paths of spring

How you asked in courtly fashion

And presented me a ring

 

We were so full of love

We though that it would never die

We thought that love would last

Until the stars fell from the sky

 

But we were wrong, so very wrong

You’ve left me all alone

And in this strange and careless world

My heart can’t find a home

Maiden Fair


~ I Remember ~
 
I remember every moment
every touch, every kiss
And I remember thinking
that nothing could feel like this
 
I remember every promise
after all the love we made
The dream of new beginnings
that would be ours someday
 
I remember every heartbeat
and walks along the sand
Watching the sun fall to the sea
our dream, our love, our plan
 
I remember, I remember,
but no longer will it be
The memory of your touch or kiss
for all eternity
 
For now that I remember
I watched you walk away
And leave me for another,
the dream we had, betrayed
 
I remember how my heart ached
as I wished for one last time
To hold you and remember
when you used to be mine
 
But I no longer want the memory
of how you left or why,
To see you with another
just makes me want to die
 
But now my only wish is for
that I would soon forget
Every hurt and memory
that with me you had left.
 
© Christina
22nd March, 2007

forever

I,
I sit alone...
my head held not high
my saddened eyes asking why
they see the distant stars within the sky
stars, many more than the breaths I'll ever breath
my eyes look 'round, but they do not see you, anywhere
in the shallowness of their light, heavily I wheeze
just like the day I watched you leave
and I ask why, is she more
beautiful than
I?

oh
my tears,
my tears, my darling,
my darling, tears are like stars
they fall silently down
within the darkness
silently down
they fall
oh


I..
hope the
stars above and
the moon shinning bright
remind you to remember me!
darling, these stars that glow and silently
fall into the night, are like my
tears that silently fall
reminding me of the
deep love I
have for
you

forever

By: FlaIsleGirl@aol.com


Just finished this short story from one of the challenges a month or two ago - to write a short story entitled "Silent Conversation".  It kind of took it's own path.  Hope you enjoy it.  As always, comments are welcome.
 

 
Silent Conversations
© Christina aka Stina
 
Watching the sun fall to the sea from her harbourside retreat at the end of another day Annabeth felt her dreams disappear also with the fading light.  An air of listlessness weighed heavily upon her as she tried to relive the magic that once was in the deep recesses of her mind, but feeling only emptiness instead.
 
With evening about to settle in, and resigning herself to yet another long lonely night within the barren halls of her “palatial” kingdom, Annabeth felt a single tear begin to form clouding her vision of the breathtaking view from which she gained so much peace.  Sadly it was all she had now, she who had everything money could buy – everything, that is, but what was most important.  And no grand house or life of luxury could ever make up for that which she has lost.    Palace indeed, she thought bitterly to herself.  And who was here to reign upon its throne? 
 
Sighing heavily Annabeth turned from the balcony’s edge and retreated inside, but not before catching glimpse of a falling star upon which she wished, for all the good it would do, immediately chastising herself for being so maudlin.  Gosh, is this what’s become of her?  She never thought of herself as one who was so dependent on love to live happily ever after.  But then that was before she met and fell in love Marcus, she reminded herself.  When the world was black and white, life was to be lived and love was something you chose – not fell into.  Since Marcus her life hadn’t been the same, and since losing him, she knew it never would be again.
 
They met five years before whilst touring France and the Riviera.  It as love at first sight, although admittedly Annabeth did think it was one of those holiday flings that would pass just as soon as the holiday did – after all, there was something purely romantic about France.  She first saw him at the Louvre admiring the abstract works of Monet, or rather pondering them.  He couldn’t quite see their beauty as they weren’t painted as he saw them, and she remembered him commenting on its childish simplicity.  But then that was the beauty of Monet, she had reiterated, its innocent simplicity.  And so they continued in a friendly banter about the significance of art, which they took with them to a café for Lattes and croissants.  Feeling immensely attracted to one another their conversation lead to dinner, dessert and ultimately breakfast the next morning, where they awoke in a lover’s embrace both sated and content.
 
Annabeth smiled nostalgically as she reflected on the memory.  He never did “get” art and she never really understood why he was at the Louvre in the first place but then, as he used to tell her, he was meant to be there, if only to meet her, because they were destined to be.  Now that did make more sense than his being there otherwise.  So they ended up travelling the Riviera and returning back to Sydney together where their romance continued to bloom long after the holiday had ended.  And Annabeth, who had never believed in fairytales, began to realise she was living in one with her very own Prince Charming. 
 
Happily ever after had suddenly become a reality…that is until Marcus was taken so abruptly from her in a tragic event over which she had no control.    Caught in the crossfire of a late night robbery at a 24 hour convenience store, the .22 calibre bullet had penetrated his aorta killing him instantly.  Annabeth’s world came crashing down around her in a matter of seconds, as her life with Marcus suddenly seemed a world away.  She screamed profusely when they delivered the news to her later that night, refusing to believe it was her Marcus before collapsing with inconsolable grief.  When she realised that he wasn’t coming home the strong self-sufficient independent Annabeth wanted to curl up and die – for life without Marcus wasn’t worth living.
 
Then one night the strangest thing happened.  She had made the decision to end her sorrows with a bottle of sleeping pills and was tearfully fingering a framed photo of her and Marcus in happier times when she felt a chill suddenly sweep the room.  Feeling as if someone had walked over her grave Annabeth shrieked and dropped the photo, the frame smashing as it hit the floor.  The curtains billowed as if a breeze caught them but no window was open.  More vulnerable than ever before Annabeth was suddenly frightened and struggled to maintain her composure.
 
“Wh-who’s there?” she called into the silence.
 
The nocturnal echoes outside were her only reply.  Everything went still, and then she felt it again – the breeze of someone passing by.  But she could see nothing in the darkness.  And then she saw it.  The broken photo frame with her and Marcus that had fallen to the floor, scooped up and placed at her bedside.  Annabeth stared disbelievingly wondering if the pills were making her hallucinate.  Changing her mind all of a sudden she leapt off the bed and dashed into the bathroom for some water where she saw her lipstick writing the words “I love you” on the mirror.  Annabeth screamed, then fainted.
 
When she awoke some hours later she was sure she could feel the familiar warm embrace but when she opened her eyes, she was alone.   Feeling a little puzzled as to the events that had occurred the during the night, Annabeth began to think it had been the side effects of the pills she’d taken in her futile attempt to be with Marcus again.  That is until it happened again the following night.  The billowing curtains, the repositioned photo, the writing on the mirror - that same sense of someone being there.  Except tonight there was a single red rose and petals scattered on her pillow…and a note in Marcus’ hand.
 
Do not cry for me for I am not a pile of ashes sitting on the mantelpiece.  I am here in your memory and in your heart, and I always will be.  I love you, always and forever.
Love, M
 
With the parched paper in her hand, Annabeth felt herself shake with a fear she had never experienced before – a fear of the unknown, of the afterlife.  Could Marcus really be “here” with her still?  She glanced around the room cautiously not really knowing what to expect next but wary all the same.  Part of her wanted to reach out and call for him, but she felt silly doing so.  Berating herself she decided it was all just her imagination and wishful thinking.  Marcus was dead – end of story.
 
She woke with a start some hours later, her heart pounding.  Had she heard something?   A noise?  An animal?  A burglar?  What was it?   There was a distinct chill in the room again that soon dissipated with the glowing warmth from the fireplace.  But then with an eerie sense of uneasiness she remembered she hadn’t lit the fireplace, and suddenly her nightmare seemed to become a reality again.   Someone had to be playing tricks on her – who was it?
 
“Annabeth…” she heard her name whispered in the night.
 
“Go away!” she screamed. “Whoever you are, leave me the hell alone!”
 
But just as she spoke the words, she suddenly felt strong arms encircle her in a warm embrace – one she had come to know over the last five years. One that made her knees go weak and melted her heart.  This couldn’t be a joke. She knew those arms, that touch, that smell.  It was him.
 
“Marcus..?” it was her turn to whisper.  “Marcus? Are you there?”
 
“I’m here, Bebe, I’m here,” she heard his voice at last.
 
“Oh, Marcus!” she felt tears sting her eyes. “I’ve missed you so much…”
 
“Sshh, Bebe,” came the soothing sound of his voice in the night. “Don’t cry, I’m here now.”
 
“But…I don’t understand –” Annabeth began.
 
“Don’t,” Marcus spoke softly.  “Don’t try to. Just enjoy the moment.  I’m here now and that’s all that matters.”
 
Annabeth felt Marcus gently ease her onto the bed – their bed – and hold her in that safe and warm embrace. She knew whatever was happening didn’t make one iota of sense, but right now she didn’t care.  All she wanted was to relive her memories of Marcus and if this was a dream, she didn’t ever want to wake up.  And if it wasn’t…?  Well, she still didn’t want to wake up – not without Marcus.
 
“Don’t even think that way, Bebe,” he spoke into her thoughts.  “You have a whole life ahead of you.  I don’t want you throwing it away because I’m no longer there to share it with you.”
 
“But I don’t want to…not without you,” Annabeth sniffed.  “I never thought I would say this, let alone think it, but without you my life is not complete.  You are such a part of me that without you that part of me is dead.”
 
“Listen to me, Bebe,” he spoke sternly now in that no-nonsense tone she was so familiar with. “Don’t speak like that, don’t even think like that.  I may be gone in the real sense of the word, but I will always be with you – here…” He placed a hand over her heart.  “Your memories of me will continue to live on just as my love for you will – here, in your heart.  And for as long as you live, so will I – here.”  His hand on her heart still. “But if you go then your memories of me die also.  Is that what you want?”
 
“Yes…!  No…I don’t know…” she sobbed in confusion. “I only know I don’t want to live without you.”
 
“But you won’t be,” she heard the smile in voice then.  “Remember?  I will always live within you – in your heart and in your memory.”
 
“But it’s not enough….”
 
“It will be, Bebe, it will be,” his voice soothed.  “It won’t hurt forever, though I know it seems like it will.  You will pick up and move on.  You have a whole life ahead of you – you don’t want to be stuck in the worse time of your life forever now, do you?”
 
Annabeth couldn’t say anything though she knew what her answer would be.  Marcus was right – he was always right.   And right now she knew he knew she knew it, and that made her smile.
 
“See?  That’s the Bebe I remember – the Bebe I want to remember,” he whispered, then she felt his hand brush her face.  “You’ll be alright, my love. You know you will.  You’re strong, beautiful and you’ll get through this.  And I love you.  And don’t forget, in the end always remember…”
 
“What?”
 
“…we’ll always have Paris…” as his voice drifted away.
 
Annabeth woke with a start and glanced around the room.  Was that just a dream?  Or did it really happen?  She recalled some very strange things happening lately, some of which was probably induced by the medication the doctor had had her on since the tragedy.  Yet she didn’t feel any fear from the experience…just a sense of comfort.  As if Marcus really was there, taking care of her.
 
She smiled.  Silent conversations with herself and her dead lover.  If Marcus were to tell her some months ago of something like this she would have laughed him off.  But then she wouldn’t have believed that he would be dead either, would she?  A sense of melancholy seemed to settle over her momentarily before she climbed out of bed and opening the French windows, walked onto the balcony overlooking the harbour below.  She threw her arms wide as if she were taking a leap into the air, but instead she just cried out,
 
“I’M ALIVE...!  I’M ALIVE…!” then more softly to herself, “Yes, Marcus, I’m alive.”
Wiping a lone tear from her eye, Annabeth whispered in silent conversation once more, “Thank you, Marcus.  I love you…”
© Christina aka Stina
21st March, 2007

~ Ode to the Poetess ~
 
Oh, such beauty
so refined
With loveliness
and grace combined
In style and
perfect symmetry
A reflection of
pure artistry.
 
Enchanting to
the naked eye
Yet does one see
what lay behind
The layers of
complexity
Beneath the written
canopy.
 
For words are but
an ancient form
Expressions of
a mirror borne
Upon the soul
reflections cast
Another chapter
unsurpassed.
 
Yet still the heart
and soul express
Everything, and
nothing less
In each and every
line composed
The art of poetry
and prose.
 
So in celebration
and in song
There is a power
far beyond
The eloquence
within each line -
For a woman by
her words defined.
 
© Christina
21st March, 2007

WIND

©2007 S. Rhodes

 

"It never fails", thought Tree, trying to suppress her anger, as she felt her leaves and branches whipped by the wind.   Lately it was getting very hard to relax and after a long day standing in the hot summer sun, Tree was in no mood to put up with Wind's antics. Wind's moods had been increasingly hostile and he had become destructive of late.   All the trees had complained to him about it, but he had ignored them and continued to blow.  All week he been amusing himself by knocking over lawn chairs, sun umbrellas and yesterday, he had tipped over a birdbath sending it crashing onto the patio stones.   The little birds that had been happily bathing flew to the trees chattering their complaints, but Wind just whistled and continued on down the street, whirling dust and debris in circles, lifting ladies skirts and snatching men's hats.

 

Wind loved to create havoc at times, but tonight he was in a foul mood.   He had expected Rain to join him in some fun.  Nobody could kick up a good storm like Rain, but she had changed her mind at the last minute and gone off in another direction, leaving Wind to amuse himself once again and he was bored and sick of trying to entertain himself.

 

Tree could sense his anger as her branches rattled and rubbed together, making high squeaking noises.   She shouldn't have scolded Wind so harshly the other day, she thought, as he hadn't taken it well.   She couldn't understand how he could be so gentle at times and quite the bully at other times.   Still she was feeling very tired of late and she was in no mood for his antics tonight.  With an effort Tree straightened herself, ignoring Winds attempts to bend her to his will and allowed her branches to reach out and slap him as he blew by.

 

Wind felt the sting of her anger and decided and played around Tree for awhile, amused at how badly she was able to swat at him.   Soon growing tired of this game however, Wind decided it was time to show Tree who was boss.  After all he was strong and powerful and he was tired of being chided over and over about his lack of manners.   He didn't want to behave; he wanted to do what whatever he liked, whenever he felt like it.   Wind felt another slap from one of Trees branches.   That angered him.  He sucked in his breath, puffing himself into a great invisible ball, storing up his energy.   Wind did a few twirls around Tree, making her dizzy and angrier than she was before.  Wind sensing the old trees' growing hostility, started to enjoy himself and forgot about Rain, concentrating on teaching Tree a lesson.

 

The neighboring trees swayed and bent as Wind vent his fury on Tree.  They desperately tried to get Wind's attention and make him stop.  They frantically waved their branches up and down, but he ignored them.  Startled birds took to the skies, their wings flapping against Wind's strong current and squirrels ran down the moving trees, running in circles on the ground, unsure of where to go.

 

Tree felt her limbs being twisted and bent.  A hot tearing pain ran down her side and a large branch hung down one of her sides, her other branches creaked and snapped in protest as Wind blasted her relentlessly.   Leaves were torn from her and she groaned in pain, but Wind was beyond hearing as he blew harder and harder, swirling around and around.  Tree made a futile attempt to hold her branches still against the onslaught of Wind, but she was tired and old and no match for him.   One more blast thought Wind, that will teach her.  Wind blew, all his strength focused on the old tree. 

 

Tree let out a loud moan as she felt a sharp pain shoot up from her base to her uppermost branches.   Loud snaps and tearing sounds filled the air as one by one Tree's branches were ripped away.  Screaming in agony, Tree felt herself falling and with a mighty crash she landed on the ground her roots torn from the earth.

 

Wind suddenly stopped, shocked at what he'd done. The other trees sighed, bending in misery and then stood still.   Wind softly blew on Tree, his breath now a soft caress, his voice a tiny wail.

 

Tree shuttered and then could move no more, her branches were broken and crushed .  As Tree, lay there feeling her sap run cold and her leaves start to droop, her last thought was "…maybe now I can rest."



I know that this is a different type of poetry, that I have been experimenting with, and it is kinda AC... I am not sure if you would consider this to be "free writing", but i think it is interesting. I am not sure if I should just send this or what, so I am going to send it to the group. Please feel free to comment (especially positive ones).
 
Here goes:
In bright green light I am descending,
Into myself as light into darkness,
As love into lust,
As water into steam.
I am all alone and therefore am happy.
I am alone in the house, in the shower.
As I turn on the water, I can see the steam rising,
Rising as if the water is coming down to earth, to me,
I can feel the steam and the heat of the water on my body.
My body starts to convert into steam, into heat,
The heat starts to consume me as I watch droplets of water,
Water- I watch droplets of water pool at my feet,
My feet are not there; I realize that i am steam
As steam, I get an idea of what is to come.
I watch the riplets of water as they form to my body
My body watches them as they descend to the floor.
On the floor, they begin to pool. I can feel them move.
I can feel them as they flow freely across me.
I have to trace them because they feel so light
So light, so airy, like droplets as they move
They move downward, tracing muscles, tracing curves.
Curves, Muscles begin to respond, respond to the heat,
The heat creates more movement as they move downward,
Downward, father and farther down into me,
Me, responding to the heat, the movement, the water
The Water begins to caress me, caress me in places,
Places that have never been caressed before, places
Places that I never knew existed.Places that bring pleasure,
Pleasure as I have never felt before, Pleasure building as Heat,
Heat surrounding more inner heat, pulsing heat, as it builds
It builds and builds until a release.
A sweet release, a release as I have never felt before.
As I have never felt before...I wonder if I can feel it again?
Again, the light starts to ascend, Ascending back into the heavens.
The Heavens, where it all began, and I wait
I wait for it to descend again.
 

Robbie


The Blarney Stone

©2007 S. Rhodes

 

You might wonder whether I'm full of blarney when you read this tale dear reader, but let me assure you every word of it is true.

 

Many years ago, I had the good fortune to travel abroad with my Father who was attending a business conference in Ireland. When we landed we caught a taxi to our hotel, and I was shown to my room, which turned out to be quite nice even though the view from the window was of city rooftops and pigeon droppings.   Nonetheless, I was happy to be off plane and on the ground.

 

The next day, I awoke to the sound of pigeons cooing on my windowsill.   My father had told me that he'd be busy all day in the conference, so I decided to go exploring.  I dressed, and went down for some breakfast and afterwards went off to visit the sites.

 

I did a bit of window-shopping and ate a few goodies that I purchased from local vendors, and as the day grew warmer, I looked for a place with some shade and where I could rest my aching feet.   I spied a large park that looked cool and inviting, and started walking down its various paths, stopping to smell some flowers along the way.  After a short while, I sat down resting my back against a large tree, and watched as some ducks swam lazily around a large pond.  I felt myself nodding off, and was almost asleep when I felt a sharp poke in my side.   Looking down I saw a man, no bigger than eight inches high, and he was busy poking me with a sharp stick, and scowling.  "Move it, you", he said, hissing the words at me angrily.   "You're blocking my entrance."

 

"Entrance to what?" I asked, looking around.

 

"My front door, you great oaf.", said the tiny man, once again giving me a viscous poke with his stick and trying desperately to wiggle behind me, using his elbows and fists to move me out of his way.  

 

"Hey!", I said, getting more than a little ticked off at this gnat of a man.   "Why don't you ask me politely, instead of being so rude and violent?"  I then smiled, thinking of how silly my dream was, for surely it was a dream, and how futile and foolish he looked trying to beat me with his stick, and hit me.   He seemed to know what I was thinking, because he hauled off and kicked me, which strangely felt quite real.

 

When I reached out to grab him, he disappeared in a blink of an eye, only to reappear on the other side me slapping me on my leg with his stick once again and turning an alarming shade of red as he did so.   He was so angry, I took pity on him and shifted myself away from the tree and he ran behind me.  He moved so quickly, I couldn't imagine where he'd gone to this time, but something caught my eye.   Peering closer at the tree, I saw a tiny little door, and as I looked, it seemed to shimmer and fade and within moments I was just staring at the bark.   I touched the area lightly with my finger, and felt nothing but the woods rough texture.

 

I see you are skeptical, my dear readers, and are wondering if I was suffering from jet lag or too much heat, but I assure you, that although quite out of the ordinary, it happened.   How else could you explain the series of small but very vivid bruises dotted along my thigh and hip that I found later that evening when undressing for bed.



You Did WHAT?

 

(March 14, 2007)

 

Sighing with the relief of finally being home, Ali closed the door behind her and bent to untie her boots.  Before she could straighten completely, she felt Blake’s hands around her waist, his mouth at her neck.

 

“You’re late,” he whispered in her ear.

 

“Sorry.  I was due for a haircut.  I forgot to call.”

 

He kissed her neck and let her stand up.  “It’s okay.  You’re not late enough to…”  His voice trailed off as he suddenly noticed the state of her once-brunette hair.  “Holy crap, Ali!  What did you do to your hair?”

 

She nervously ran a hand through it.  “It’s starting to get warm already.  Did I cut it too short?”

 

“Short?”  He blinked a couple times, trying to right his vision.  He hadn’t even noticed it was short.  “Oh gods, not short too…” He lifted a short, coppery piece of hair off her forehead, stroking it lovingly.  “You didn’t let me say good-bye…”

 

Ali rolled her eyes, pushing him to the side.  “I’m tired.  Did you cook?”

 

“Me?  Cook?”  Blake laughed, pulling out his cell phone.  “What would you like?”

 

“You are so sad.  I’ll go fix some dinner.”  She got two steps away before he grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him.

 

“What on earth did you dye it for?”  He played with the remnants of a wavy bit, sighing.  “I can understand the short bit but… red?

 

She shrugged.  “It was Jo’s idea.  Scarlett agreed.”

 

“I should have known,” he muttered.  “I think I’m gonna have to limit your time with those two,” he teased.

 

“I’d like to see ya try it, Cowboy,” she teased back.  “Some tortellini for you tonight?”

 

“Yeah, that works.  Food is food.”

 

“You’ve never had to eat freeze-dried rations, obviously.”

 

Blake ignored her, going to the freezer for the tortellini.  “Anything else you need while I’m here?”

 

“A new husband?  Does that work?”

 

“Nope.  Try again.”

 

Grinning, she asked, “How about the Parmesan, the milk, and the peas?  If there’s any sausage, grab it too.”

 

“Gotcha.”  Blake rummaged around in the fridge, pulling out ingredients and dumped them on the counter beside her.   He perched himself on the counter alongside the groceries and watched her make their dinner.

 

She ignored him the best she could, knowing that riling him up wasn’t the best thing to do tonight.  For reasons she might never understand, he was extremely possessive and overly protective of her hair.  It had to be a man thing, but she just didn’t get it.  After all, he’d hacked off all his beautiful dark curls before they’d met.  Even so, it was getting hot and humid and she couldn’t handle the hair a moment longer.  As for the color… well, she had wanted a change…

 

Jo, the girl she strongly suspected her adopted brother was in love with, had nothing better to do and decided to tag along.  After meeting up with Scarlett, who’d been getting a trim of her own, Jo suggested she go red.  Scarlett agreed.  But then, Scarlett had been urging her to dye it red for years now.  She’d really liked the hot pink shade Tanya, their collective hairdresser had shown her, but Ali didn’t think that would quite fit her dress code at the ‘office’.

 

She jumped at the touch on the back of her neck.  “Hey!” she scolded Blake, stirring the sausage.  “Not while I’m cooking.  Remember the cookies?”

 

Blake laughed and evil, all male laugh.  “Yeaaah… I do.”  He stroked her bare neck again.  “I’m not sure I like the color but I can get used to having your neck so accessible.”  He moved to slide off the counter.

 

Ali brandished the spatula at him, threatening, “Don’t you come near me until dinner is done!” 

 

He grinned, putting his hands in the air.  “Me?  Why would I interrupt you when you’re going to feed me?  Geez, some people!”  The sentence ended in laughter.

 

“Can’t even fool yourself, can you?”

 

Shaking his head, he giggled, “Nope!”

 

“Get out.  Your dinner will be done in ten.”

 

Still laughing, Blake grabbed a soda and headed for the living room, thinking the whole time of her bare neck.

 

~*~

 

“You want to do WHAT?” Alpine was shocked.  Shocked!  “Why?”

 

“Have you seen what your girlfriend and Scarlett talked Ali into?”  At Alpine’s negative head shake, he growled, “They encouraged her to not only cut her hair short but to dye it red!  What the hell were they thinking?”

 

Alpine laughed as Blake paced the living room.  “So you wanna do what exactly?”

 

“Freak her out.  Payback and all.”

 

Shaking his head, Alpine laughed even harder.  “If you’re looking for some payback, I’ve got a good idea.  One that’d really get her going.”

 

“Yeah?” Blake’s ears perked up at the thought of a good prank.

 

“Um,” Alpine coughed, loudly, “but I’m not sure you’ll go for it.”

 

“Try me.”

 

Seeing the look on Blake’s face, Alpine reigned in his laughter and tried to be more serious.  “Shave your head.”

 

“No freakin’ way!”

 

Alpine grinned.  “How ‘bout a cut like mine?”  He rubbed the black quarter-inch stubble on his head thoughtfully. 

 

“Crap.  I’ve got hair longer than that on my face,” Blake moaned.

 

“Okay, but you wanted to get her goat and she loves your curls…”

 

“It’s gonna take forever to grow back.”

 

“So that’s a yes?” Alpine asked eagerly.

 

“Yeah, it’s a yes,” he sighed, already missing his hair.

 

~*~

 

“Damn, Blake, that actually looks good on you.”  Alpine was impressed; he wasn’t sure how well the short cut would go with his baby face.  “You just need to shave and we could pass you off as a soldier too.”

 

“Uh, no thanks on that.”  He rubbed his stubbly chin and then ran his hand across what was left of his hair.  “She’ll eventually forgive me for this,” he waved at the top of his head, “but she wouldn’t forgive me for that.”

 

“Yeah, but your beard will grow back quicker,” Alpine quipped. 

 

“Shut up.”  He grinned as his phone vibrated.  “Yes, Cookie?” he asked cheerfully.

 

“You’re late, Cowboy.”

 

“Yeah?  And you were late last night,” he teased.

 

“So, does that mean you’re cooking dinner tonight?”

 

“Not on your life, Cookie,” he laughed.  “But, I will take you to dinner.”

 

“Hmm, does that mean you’re over the hair thing?”

 

“Oh yeah, I’m over it.  I’ll be home in fifteen, babe.”

 

“Well?” Alpine asked after he’d hung up.

 

“She’s at home, waiting.”

 

~*~

 

“Hey Baby,” he called, coming inside the house.  “I’m home.”

 

“I noticed,” she joked, appearing in the bedroom doorway.  “Come give me a kiss.”

 

“Of course.”  He turned his back to her, removing his hat and hanging on the rack she’d hung for him.  He stood, facing the hat rack, afraid to turn around, waiting on her reaction.

 

“BLAKE!”

 

He didn’t have to wait long, apparently.  “Yeah?”  He turned slowly, trying to hide the smile creeping across his face.

 

She’d crossed the living room before he’d turned totally around.  “What did you do?  Oh my god,” she said suddenly.  “This is my fault, isn’t it?”

 

Grinning, he nodded.  “Yeah, sure.  Why not?  It is your fault.”

 

She smacked him, hard.  Appreciatively, she traced a line along his jaw.  “At least you kept this.”  Running her hand across his buzz, she frowned thoughtfully.  “Ya know this is actually pretty sexy.” 

 

Blake threw his hands in the air, defeated.  “Alpine thought it would be enough to get your goat.  I guess we were both wrong.”

 

Ali stood, stunned.  “After all these years in the Army, you think I wouldn’t find a buzz cut sexy?”

 

He opened his mouth and then closed it, speechless.  “Not on me?”

 

“I love you no matter what.”  She touched the edge of one ear, never really paid them much attention before.  “I’m gonna miss those curls… at certain odd moments… but I can get used to this too.”

 

“I give up.  There’s no getting even with you, is there?”

 

“Nope.  Not unless you plan on withholding my promised dinner anyway…”

 

Blake pressed his lips together and glared, knowing he’d been beaten… again.

 

MS – 3/14/07

 

Amy


 

Over The Edge

By Meredith Rothenberg

 

 

I’m going over the edge,

I can’t restrain it, contain it,

I’m falling off of the ledge.

 

The fear is clear, its here.

It beats me over the head,

Worry for what I hold dear.

 

I can’t control it, my soul it

Crys for me to get it done,

Right here and now just do it.

 

I don’t know how long I can wait, I hate

Not knowing, not showing, not going

Over to open the gate.

 

I don’t know why they die

From sickness inside

But to hold on, I gotta try.

 

How can I give my heart a start

By waiting so long

Just for it to fall apart.

 

If its gonna happen

Let it happen now

The fear is sappin

My strength of will.

 


Hope Comes in Small Packages

By Meredith Rothenberg

 


Sickness, spasms, wracking breaths.

Fear, worry, guilt, regret.

Death, horror, pain, grief.

Panic stricken, stomach sickens.

NO!  DON’T TAKE THEM FROM ME!!

 

Mouth to muzzle, no use, no help, no solution.

Bodies harden as my heart does.

Eyes loose color, becoming milky white.

Mouths contorted into a seeming scream.

THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!

 

My stomach becomes a knot.

My heart becomes a black stone.

Everything hurts.

I am sure I will be sick.

GIVE THEM BACK!!

 

It seems like the world has come to an end.

Nothing will ever be right again.

How could it with them gone?

Never holding, touching, tickling, kissing.

NO!! I WON’T LET THEM GO!

 

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

A box on a shelf is all that remains.

It’s not enough, not nearly enough.

I have things to do, but I can’t hide the pain.

WHY DOES IT HURT SO MUCH!

 

They were only little things.

Merely food fort a snake.

Nothing that should make a grown woman cry.

But I do, and I can’t stop.

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!

 

Another stands alone in a cage.

Alone, confused, hungry, lonely.

Where are her friends?

She needs me more than ever.

YOU’RE ALL I HAVE LEFT!

 

She’s scared, I’m scared.

I give her medication.

I plea to who ever is listening

Let her be alright.

DON’T TAKE HER TOO!

 

She looks for them too.

She sees the same emptiness I see.

She needs a sister, a roommate, a friend.

I can’t let her live alone for the rest of her life.

BUT I AM SCARED ANOTHER WILL DIE!

 

I do what I have to do,

I take the chance she needs me to.

I find a new girl,

A new sister and friend.

FEAR ENGULFS ME!

 

She looks so much like my first.

Can I handle it?

Will I be able to love her?

She licks my finger.

MY HEART MELTS.

 

Not the same,

But still so sweet.

Not a replacement,

A new possibility, a new hope.

HOPE COMES IN SMALL PACKAGES.


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