Twitter Tales
Based on photos stories told in 280 characters posted on twitter twice a week each month.
Based on photos stories told in 280 characters posted on twitter twice a week each month.
April
At last, I’ve reached the enchanted forest. Cocooned in its shadows surrounded by animals, far from people, I’m free. At last, I’ve reached the enchanted forest. Cocooned in its shadows surrounded by animals, far from people, I’m free. Through the filtering light, I followed a peaceful menagerie into a circle of clarity. Enlightenment swirled in my mind. A warm mist cleansed my body of the foul stench of hatred. My spirit filled and overflowed with the unfamiliar glow of love.
Realizing isolation wasn’t the best answer, I gazed at the starry sky. Finding a direct celestial path, I traveled until dawn. After gathering delicious, treats, I nourished my body. Closing my eyes, I reviewed my plan until I let my mind rest.
In the distance, I savored majestic hills, verdant valleys, and sparkling rivers. Yet, I missed touches of human enhancement. I prayed my newfound wisdom could convince alarmists to accept, as part of nature our role was to add to nature’s beauty.
On the edge of the forest, I listened to intersecting winds playing rhythmic tunes. I watched leaves dancing to hypnotic melodies. I braced myself for a reception from condemning townsfolk. I inhaled the pure air and leaped forward into my past.
I begged them to stop stripping away creativity, stop replacing artistic touches with functional blandness. As each wild flower adds to wilderness grandeur, each unique talent can decorate our world. “Don’t control us with rules. Trust us to bloom.”
Using logic, I tried to explain my insights but they wouldn’t let go of their irrational beliefs. They viewed my kind as dangerous needing directives and restrictions.
They stormed me, pinned me down.
Rather than imprisonment, I elected banishment.
Insisting upon escorting me to the enchanted forest the fearful ones glimpsed reality—untold gifts emerge from inner creativity.
I hoped rather than immaturely holding onto delusions they’d unleash personal inhibitions & allow their spirits to soar.dit.
At last, I’ve reached the enchanted forest. Cocooned in its shadows surrounded by animals, far from people, I’m free. At last, I’ve reached the enchanted forest. Cocooned in its shadows surrounded by animals, far from people, I’m free. Through the filtering light, I followed a peaceful menagerie into a circle of clarity. Enlightenment swirled in my mind. A warm mist cleansed my body of the foul stench of hatred. My spirit filled and overflowed with the unfamiliar glow of love.
Realizing isolation wasn’t the best answer, I gazed at the starry sky. Finding a direct celestial path, I traveled until dawn. After gathering delicious, treats, I nourished my body. Closing my eyes, I reviewed my plan until I let my mind rest.
In the distance, I savored majestic hills, verdant valleys, and sparkling rivers. Yet, I missed touches of human enhancement. I prayed my newfound wisdom could convince alarmists to accept, as part of nature our role was to add to nature’s beauty.
On the edge of the forest, I listened to intersecting winds playing rhythmic tunes. I watched leaves dancing to hypnotic melodies. I braced myself for a reception from condemning townsfolk. I inhaled the pure air and leaped forward into my past.
I begged them to stop stripping away creativity, stop replacing artistic touches with functional blandness. As each wild flower adds to wilderness grandeur, each unique talent can decorate our world. “Don’t control us with rules. Trust us to bloom.”
Using logic, I tried to explain my insights but they wouldn’t let go of their irrational beliefs. They viewed my kind as dangerous needing directives and restrictions.
They stormed me, pinned me down.
Rather than imprisonment, I elected banishment.
Insisting upon escorting me to the enchanted forest the fearful ones glimpsed reality—untold gifts emerge from inner creativity.
I hoped rather than immaturely holding onto delusions they’d unleash personal inhibitions & allow their spirits to soar.dit.
May
Four best friends grew up in an inner city ghetto amidst stormy seas. Like crashing waves, life’s lessons hit them fast and hard. United they kept each other from tumbling below turbulent waters. Basking in daydreams, they reached for tranquil shores.
As if tenements were beaches, friends played in surrounding grit. They pretended to be princesses & princes living in castles. When real pirates attacked their kingdom, the foursome learned the disappointment of fantasies washed away in an instant.
After one friend set sail, promising instant thrills Sirens lured him into the port of drugs. His habit like the tip of an iceberg hid the breadth of its destructiveness. As if wood pilings his legs sank into a submerged sandbar. There he stagnated.
Turning her course into the wind, a friend maneuvered through the choppy seas of show business. She tacked and jibed in various directions. Even when waylaid by doldrums she patiently waited until blithe breezes sent her to a destination of stardom.
The third friend charted a course of endless exploration. She studied the tides of humanity and measured the undulating rise and fall of emotions. After earning her stripes she spent years as part of a crew before becoming chief of a renown clinic.
Like the ocean giving nourishment, the last friend gave to others in ordinary & amazing ways. As if a lifejacket, he kept the stranded afloat. As if a blinking buoy, he signaled submerged dangers. As if a beacon, his light helped guide sailors home.
When he hit bottom, the sinking one pulled free from drugs. He thrashed through violent currents and managed to avoid sea monsters. His friends’ support like sonar kept his target in sight. He propelled forward until he salvaged his inner treasures.
Reunited the friends sat by the shore, dipped their toes in ocean froth, and spread their wings splashing each other with refreshing gifts. Even from afar, they watched over one another with the intensity of gulls searching for bits of sustenance.
Leaving empty chairs in their wake the friends embarked on a final crossing. Beyond the horizon in the net of friendship, they waited. When all four arrived, their spirits like sleek birds circled the earth a last time before flying into the Light.
Four best friends grew up in an inner city ghetto amidst stormy seas. Like crashing waves, life’s lessons hit them fast and hard. United they kept each other from tumbling below turbulent waters. Basking in daydreams, they reached for tranquil shores.
As if tenements were beaches, friends played in surrounding grit. They pretended to be princesses & princes living in castles. When real pirates attacked their kingdom, the foursome learned the disappointment of fantasies washed away in an instant.
After one friend set sail, promising instant thrills Sirens lured him into the port of drugs. His habit like the tip of an iceberg hid the breadth of its destructiveness. As if wood pilings his legs sank into a submerged sandbar. There he stagnated.
Turning her course into the wind, a friend maneuvered through the choppy seas of show business. She tacked and jibed in various directions. Even when waylaid by doldrums she patiently waited until blithe breezes sent her to a destination of stardom.
The third friend charted a course of endless exploration. She studied the tides of humanity and measured the undulating rise and fall of emotions. After earning her stripes she spent years as part of a crew before becoming chief of a renown clinic.
Like the ocean giving nourishment, the last friend gave to others in ordinary & amazing ways. As if a lifejacket, he kept the stranded afloat. As if a blinking buoy, he signaled submerged dangers. As if a beacon, his light helped guide sailors home.
When he hit bottom, the sinking one pulled free from drugs. He thrashed through violent currents and managed to avoid sea monsters. His friends’ support like sonar kept his target in sight. He propelled forward until he salvaged his inner treasures.
Reunited the friends sat by the shore, dipped their toes in ocean froth, and spread their wings splashing each other with refreshing gifts. Even from afar, they watched over one another with the intensity of gulls searching for bits of sustenance.
Leaving empty chairs in their wake the friends embarked on a final crossing. Beyond the horizon in the net of friendship, they waited. When all four arrived, their spirits like sleek birds circled the earth a last time before flying into the Light.
June
I revisited our town’s hub and remembered. Early on while I played under the bar mom waited tables. I longed for dad but when fishing boats returned, as if hiding from me he dove his bearded face into a pint until the Ferris wheel came & united us.
On my first Ferris wheel ride, dad embraced me, our feet dangled over the sea, our hands reached for infinity, and I pondered mom’s warning, “Like your dad it’s nothing more than a cheap thrill turning round, rising, stopping, swaying, and falling.”
Long after dad drown in the depths, wanting to recreate our few joyful memories, I rode the Ferris wheel with a string of men who smooched, kissed, and grabbed. Mom lovingly said, “Be careful my child. There are those who will steal your innocence.”
My quest for male approval overrode mom’s wisdom. Despite disappointments, I stared at the horizon awaiting crafts to dock. Later, I sat at the bar swallowing shots of men’s false flattery until I was too drunk to distinguish between love and lust.
Sudden harsh winds rocked my Ferris wheel chair. Fear of impending doom jolted my core. From the moving vantage point, I watched gray angry clouds cover the sky & confused choppy white caps rise over the pier threatening to wash away my existence.
Violent as my inner storm a tempest swept me from the pier. With my heart bereft of hope, I jumped into a bobbing craft. Once distanced from physical disaster my restless fingers calmed me by sketching images of an imagined realm of timeless beauty.
Far from self-destructive patterns, my passion soared. Brushstrokes weaved stories. Under yellow rays, vibrant blues splashed white sands, sea life lulled in iridescent tide pools, green palms swayed & tranquil beachcombers roamed glistening shores.
By taking on lives of their own paintings healed me. Hidden secrets emerged from my soul freed me of the past & allowed me to value myself. Colored with confidence I recognized other untapped talents. With zeal I pursued blissful days of creativity.
Rejuvenated, I sat with Mom on the rebuilt pier watching red sunsets silvery moonbeams & pink sunrises. As the Ferris wheel turned, she shared memories reminding me life always changes. Yet I knew, like the wheel’s axis her love remained constant.
I revisited our town’s hub and remembered. Early on while I played under the bar mom waited tables. I longed for dad but when fishing boats returned, as if hiding from me he dove his bearded face into a pint until the Ferris wheel came & united us.
On my first Ferris wheel ride, dad embraced me, our feet dangled over the sea, our hands reached for infinity, and I pondered mom’s warning, “Like your dad it’s nothing more than a cheap thrill turning round, rising, stopping, swaying, and falling.”
Long after dad drown in the depths, wanting to recreate our few joyful memories, I rode the Ferris wheel with a string of men who smooched, kissed, and grabbed. Mom lovingly said, “Be careful my child. There are those who will steal your innocence.”
My quest for male approval overrode mom’s wisdom. Despite disappointments, I stared at the horizon awaiting crafts to dock. Later, I sat at the bar swallowing shots of men’s false flattery until I was too drunk to distinguish between love and lust.
Sudden harsh winds rocked my Ferris wheel chair. Fear of impending doom jolted my core. From the moving vantage point, I watched gray angry clouds cover the sky & confused choppy white caps rise over the pier threatening to wash away my existence.
Violent as my inner storm a tempest swept me from the pier. With my heart bereft of hope, I jumped into a bobbing craft. Once distanced from physical disaster my restless fingers calmed me by sketching images of an imagined realm of timeless beauty.
Far from self-destructive patterns, my passion soared. Brushstrokes weaved stories. Under yellow rays, vibrant blues splashed white sands, sea life lulled in iridescent tide pools, green palms swayed & tranquil beachcombers roamed glistening shores.
By taking on lives of their own paintings healed me. Hidden secrets emerged from my soul freed me of the past & allowed me to value myself. Colored with confidence I recognized other untapped talents. With zeal I pursued blissful days of creativity.
Rejuvenated, I sat with Mom on the rebuilt pier watching red sunsets silvery moonbeams & pink sunrises. As the Ferris wheel turned, she shared memories reminding me life always changes. Yet I knew, like the wheel’s axis her love remained constant.
July
On my 1st 4th of July with Momma & Papa at work I stood alone on the rooftop. Misty-eyed I longed for friends and all things familiar. Suddenly bursts of color streaked the sky & decorated my awestruck heart with hope for a bright future in America.
Yearly fireworks kept my US loyalty ablaze. In a skyscraper walled city, I weaved through crowded streets practicing English. I read history, studied & memorized the Constitution until the proud day I swore allegiance to the glorious American flag.
Uncle Sam sent me to a faraway war. Under an explosive canopy fear hung in the staleness. Shrapnel like hundreds of razor blades sliced my flesh. As if uniting me with the enemy my blood spilled into a red stream reminding me of our shared humanity.
Back in the land of the free, my ears rang with bombs bursting in air. Images of horrific carnage muddled my thoughts. Sweats, uncontrollable tremors and rapid breathing woke me from endless nightmares. Like a spent firecracker, I was burned-out.
Still there for me my buddies led me to support sessions. I faced demons and was able to turn guilt into goals. My new quest was to answer what most saw as a folly: How can we live in peace? Seeking answers, I used GI Bill funds to attend college.
After college I traveled & viewed hands over hearts as Old Glory waved from coast to coast. While colorful lights studded a 4th of July night, I realized my calling was to study law, fight against threats to our liberty and uphold justice for all.
As a public defender, I spent hours in jail cells, felt overworked, & wasn’t able to distinguish between cons and victims. My cases, like packs of fireworks started out nondescript. Most were duds but a few erupted into unpredictable illuminations.
Now on the bench, thanks to the fixed blueprint of our Constitution I’m able to fulfill the privilege entrusted to me of equitably deciding the fate of many. Each 4th of July I watch firework displays & reaffirm my alliance to our great Republic.
On my 1st 4th of July with Momma & Papa at work I stood alone on the rooftop. Misty-eyed I longed for friends and all things familiar. Suddenly bursts of color streaked the sky & decorated my awestruck heart with hope for a bright future in America.
Yearly fireworks kept my US loyalty ablaze. In a skyscraper walled city, I weaved through crowded streets practicing English. I read history, studied & memorized the Constitution until the proud day I swore allegiance to the glorious American flag.
Uncle Sam sent me to a faraway war. Under an explosive canopy fear hung in the staleness. Shrapnel like hundreds of razor blades sliced my flesh. As if uniting me with the enemy my blood spilled into a red stream reminding me of our shared humanity.
Back in the land of the free, my ears rang with bombs bursting in air. Images of horrific carnage muddled my thoughts. Sweats, uncontrollable tremors and rapid breathing woke me from endless nightmares. Like a spent firecracker, I was burned-out.
Still there for me my buddies led me to support sessions. I faced demons and was able to turn guilt into goals. My new quest was to answer what most saw as a folly: How can we live in peace? Seeking answers, I used GI Bill funds to attend college.
After college I traveled & viewed hands over hearts as Old Glory waved from coast to coast. While colorful lights studded a 4th of July night, I realized my calling was to study law, fight against threats to our liberty and uphold justice for all.
As a public defender, I spent hours in jail cells, felt overworked, & wasn’t able to distinguish between cons and victims. My cases, like packs of fireworks started out nondescript. Most were duds but a few erupted into unpredictable illuminations.
Now on the bench, thanks to the fixed blueprint of our Constitution I’m able to fulfill the privilege entrusted to me of equitably deciding the fate of many. Each 4th of July I watch firework displays & reaffirm my alliance to our great Republic.
August
On the deserted island, lush vegetation provided a banquet of edibles. Sleep eased my aches & restored my energy. Skills, apparently honed in my past enabled me to build a substantial shelter, but a longing for human contact threatened my sanity.
After constructing a sturdy boat, I anxiously set out exploring. Soon I docked at a famous tourist port. To my amazement, I secured employment within its city’s financial district. In the following decades, I thrived on the rush of acquiring assets.
From a bleached pastel building, I peered out my office window at a vision as beguiling as a sea nymph. After meeting exquisite Nora, I no longer counted the times I crossed the sea. Instead, I logged the long hours between our captivating visits.
Our dates transported me into a magical realm. The shape of her face the sound of her voice and the proximity to her angelic soul acquainted me with the indescribable emotion of love. On bended knee, I proposed. To my delight, Nora accepted.
No longer interested in business I liquidated most holdings. By now, a great deal of expert labor had created a sprawling grand abode on my picturesque isle. Yet I knew Nora becoming its mistress would elevate the property to an ethereal pinnacle.
A lucky man at 79, I wed my 72-year old goddess in a sacred ceremony. At our reception champagne flowed. As we danced the night away, laughter & joy filled the air. In our hotel room, I embraced Nora’s shapely form & reveled in being her soul mate.
After honeymooning, we set sail for our island. Suddenly a squall drenched the craft chilling Nora. She snuggled close to me in our cozy quarters. Rising to shut portholes, I marveled at her beauty. She whispered, “I‘ll love you for all eternity.”
Unfastening our marriage bond Nora silently slipped into perpetual sleep. Staggering in anguished disbelief I pulled myself up the steps. Fierce winds slammed by body onto the slippery deck. Lost in an abyss of despair my eyes bled mournful tears.
Sunbeams pierced the darkness revealing a pristine beach. Lapping waves rolled on shore spraying Nora’s lovely form. With welcoming arms, she awaited my embrace. At that moment, I knew once I abandoned my mortal life we would be together forevermore.
On the deserted island, lush vegetation provided a banquet of edibles. Sleep eased my aches & restored my energy. Skills, apparently honed in my past enabled me to build a substantial shelter, but a longing for human contact threatened my sanity.
After constructing a sturdy boat, I anxiously set out exploring. Soon I docked at a famous tourist port. To my amazement, I secured employment within its city’s financial district. In the following decades, I thrived on the rush of acquiring assets.
From a bleached pastel building, I peered out my office window at a vision as beguiling as a sea nymph. After meeting exquisite Nora, I no longer counted the times I crossed the sea. Instead, I logged the long hours between our captivating visits.
Our dates transported me into a magical realm. The shape of her face the sound of her voice and the proximity to her angelic soul acquainted me with the indescribable emotion of love. On bended knee, I proposed. To my delight, Nora accepted.
No longer interested in business I liquidated most holdings. By now, a great deal of expert labor had created a sprawling grand abode on my picturesque isle. Yet I knew Nora becoming its mistress would elevate the property to an ethereal pinnacle.
A lucky man at 79, I wed my 72-year old goddess in a sacred ceremony. At our reception champagne flowed. As we danced the night away, laughter & joy filled the air. In our hotel room, I embraced Nora’s shapely form & reveled in being her soul mate.
After honeymooning, we set sail for our island. Suddenly a squall drenched the craft chilling Nora. She snuggled close to me in our cozy quarters. Rising to shut portholes, I marveled at her beauty. She whispered, “I‘ll love you for all eternity.”
Unfastening our marriage bond Nora silently slipped into perpetual sleep. Staggering in anguished disbelief I pulled myself up the steps. Fierce winds slammed by body onto the slippery deck. Lost in an abyss of despair my eyes bled mournful tears.
Sunbeams pierced the darkness revealing a pristine beach. Lapping waves rolled on shore spraying Nora’s lovely form. With welcoming arms, she awaited my embrace. At that moment, I knew once I abandoned my mortal life we would be together forevermore.
September
To the beat of a therapist’s hypnotic voice I morphed into a scared child retreating from a fleshy man. Stopping my shackles from clinking I pressed my shaky wrist against my chin. Inches from the lit exit spying a skeleton I spiraled into oblivion.
Bony hands beckoned. Terrified I rushed toward the golden light. My fingers almost touched the glow when whish the skeleton scooped me up in its disconnected arms and carried me off. Fear seized my body as my mouth spewed tortured repressed cries.
The skeleton took me through a desolate land of pain & sorrow. In the dimness, I viewed a child cringing cowering as a barbarous giant threatened pounced & violated her. Forgetting my plight, I wiggled twisted & turned trying to offer her comfort.
I yelled at the skeleton, “Why won’t you let me help her? Why don’t you stop him?”
It didn’t respond.
“Where’s her mom?”
It pointed to a woman looking the other way.
“Why doesn’t she save her child?”
The skeleton moaned. “She loves the fiend.”
Despite mistrusting the creepy skeleton, I implored, “Please take her with us.”
It cackled, “If I granted your wish she’d forfeit her childhood, maidenhood, and hope for romantic happiness.”
“You mean she’d be trading one evil captor for another?”
I asked “Who are you?”
The skeleton said “I’m your chosen hiding place providing shelter from crushing emotions.”
I screamed “Let me go.”
“Facing the truth will release you from self imposed bondage.”
But did I want to remember or accept reality?
As I lovingly embraced the child, I recognized she was Beth the innocent girl I once was. To my horror, the beast was my father. Hot tears melted the hardened lava surrounding my heart & a firestorm encased my true enemy in perpetual banishment. #
By shedding the skeleton of my past, I triumphantly dissolved latent fears. My father no longer could hurt/haunt me. I scanned the dark forest feeling renewed & hopeful. Wide-eyed beaming with self-value I approached the lit portal of my future.
To the beat of a therapist’s hypnotic voice I morphed into a scared child retreating from a fleshy man. Stopping my shackles from clinking I pressed my shaky wrist against my chin. Inches from the lit exit spying a skeleton I spiraled into oblivion.
Bony hands beckoned. Terrified I rushed toward the golden light. My fingers almost touched the glow when whish the skeleton scooped me up in its disconnected arms and carried me off. Fear seized my body as my mouth spewed tortured repressed cries.
The skeleton took me through a desolate land of pain & sorrow. In the dimness, I viewed a child cringing cowering as a barbarous giant threatened pounced & violated her. Forgetting my plight, I wiggled twisted & turned trying to offer her comfort.
I yelled at the skeleton, “Why won’t you let me help her? Why don’t you stop him?”
It didn’t respond.
“Where’s her mom?”
It pointed to a woman looking the other way.
“Why doesn’t she save her child?”
The skeleton moaned. “She loves the fiend.”
Despite mistrusting the creepy skeleton, I implored, “Please take her with us.”
It cackled, “If I granted your wish she’d forfeit her childhood, maidenhood, and hope for romantic happiness.”
“You mean she’d be trading one evil captor for another?”
I asked “Who are you?”
The skeleton said “I’m your chosen hiding place providing shelter from crushing emotions.”
I screamed “Let me go.”
“Facing the truth will release you from self imposed bondage.”
But did I want to remember or accept reality?
As I lovingly embraced the child, I recognized she was Beth the innocent girl I once was. To my horror, the beast was my father. Hot tears melted the hardened lava surrounding my heart & a firestorm encased my true enemy in perpetual banishment. #
By shedding the skeleton of my past, I triumphantly dissolved latent fears. My father no longer could hurt/haunt me. I scanned the dark forest feeling renewed & hopeful. Wide-eyed beaming with self-value I approached the lit portal of my future.
October
Hush & beware ‘tis time for ghouls to haunt the streets. Disguised in modern apparel they lust after souls. Be vigilant for their piercing eyes are privy to your thoughts. Take heed for their bloodthirsty mouths lap up evil and spit out goodness.
Like frozen raindrops outlandish rumors accumulate enlarge and hang in the mist. Dangerous jagged shards of fear slice the hearts and cloud the minds of many who believe roving ghosts seize strangle & with barbed suckered claws ravage human flesh.
Grotesquely disfigured body parts scattered behind City Hall sound the clang of doom. Anxiety linked with raw terror chain the townsfolk indoors. As if awaiting a tempest to assault their hamlet they shutter windows bolt doors & hide in closets.
When a fetid decomposed corpse washed up on the riverbank pandemonium erupted. Frenzied folks believed supernatural forces caused recent deaths. Feeling abandoned by a higher power instead of praying they used churches to disperse assorted weapons.
A decapitated man unearthed in the woods prompted hysterics to pronounce, “This is the work of devil’s pawns inhabiting humans.” Viewing their own reflections in the eyes of others the suspicious ones projected personal vitriol unto their neighbors.
Despite proof many refused to admit 1 maniacal human committed the killings. Continuing to swirl in the chaos of violent passion the self-appointed accused condemned tortured and executed innocents. Crazed with power, they justified their actions.
Perplexed by the frenetic reception four angelic spirits pondered: Why when their aim was to offer hope to the hopeless joy to the disheartened & comfort to the dying by confirming a Heaven existed did mortals choose to believe hyped misinformation?
The four spirits radiated shimmering specks of brilliance & dissolved into the mist. They’d return to earth on the day they discovered a society worthy of their services. Until then they’d wait & pray for a significant # of humans to embrace wisdom.
Hush & beware ‘tis time for ghouls to haunt the streets. Disguised in modern apparel they lust after souls. Be vigilant for their piercing eyes are privy to your thoughts. Take heed for their bloodthirsty mouths lap up evil and spit out goodness.
Like frozen raindrops outlandish rumors accumulate enlarge and hang in the mist. Dangerous jagged shards of fear slice the hearts and cloud the minds of many who believe roving ghosts seize strangle & with barbed suckered claws ravage human flesh.
Grotesquely disfigured body parts scattered behind City Hall sound the clang of doom. Anxiety linked with raw terror chain the townsfolk indoors. As if awaiting a tempest to assault their hamlet they shutter windows bolt doors & hide in closets.
When a fetid decomposed corpse washed up on the riverbank pandemonium erupted. Frenzied folks believed supernatural forces caused recent deaths. Feeling abandoned by a higher power instead of praying they used churches to disperse assorted weapons.
A decapitated man unearthed in the woods prompted hysterics to pronounce, “This is the work of devil’s pawns inhabiting humans.” Viewing their own reflections in the eyes of others the suspicious ones projected personal vitriol unto their neighbors.
Despite proof many refused to admit 1 maniacal human committed the killings. Continuing to swirl in the chaos of violent passion the self-appointed accused condemned tortured and executed innocents. Crazed with power, they justified their actions.
Perplexed by the frenetic reception four angelic spirits pondered: Why when their aim was to offer hope to the hopeless joy to the disheartened & comfort to the dying by confirming a Heaven existed did mortals choose to believe hyped misinformation?
The four spirits radiated shimmering specks of brilliance & dissolved into the mist. They’d return to earth on the day they discovered a society worthy of their services. Until then they’d wait & pray for a significant # of humans to embrace wisdom.
November
“Meg is this your idea of a joke? How can you expect us to stay in a cabin without Wi-Fi cell service TV or electricity?” Realizing Ben hadn’t remembered their twenty-eighth anniversary, Meg held back tears. “I thought it would be a romantic place.”
Ben whined. “Great after a long arduous drive we arrive at an old shack in nowheresville.” He plopped into a plastic chair by the door. “This is the only sensible thing around.” Meg fumed. Just like our marriage it’s practical & nondescript.”
While Meg lit propane lanterns & logs in the hearth, she hoped her marriage would brighten. Ben doused damp BBQ coals with pungent fluid until they flared into hot flames. When she viewed his singed eyebrows, she offered, “How about a PBJ sandwich
The clink of crystal wine glasses accented the ambiance with a melodic hum. Zinfandel shimmered in the firelight’s soft glow. Meg felt the mood was dear. She toasted, “To us.” Ben snickered, “To us getting out of here the minute the weather clears.”
Winds pounded the cabin. Ben spat “We need more logs from the shed.” As Meg kept pace a gust knocked her off balance. Catching her in midair he scowled. “Now do you agree the simple life isn’t so simple?” To silence him Meg kissed his frosted lips.
After the storm Meg dragged Ben outside to watch the sunset. “The glittering snow looks like a trove of diamonds.” He didn’t respond until the space darkened and swirls of colors danced in the radiant sky. In awe he exclaimed, “The northern lights.”
Along with the Aurora Borealis another spectacular phenomenon occurred. Ben expressed, “I’m grateful for my many blessings.” Meg wondered if the lights had cast an enchanting spell, because besides his words of thanksgiving, Ben’s attitude mellowed.
Each morn they sipped hot spiced tea & stirred honey into oatmeal. During the days acting like kids they made snow angels had snowball fights & rolled down powdery hills. At night, they rediscovered each other & created magical erotic adventures.
While in Ben’s arms, Meg reminisced about their first date their whirlwind courtship & their passionate honeymoon. He asked, “What got you through the hard times making ends meet & worrying about our kids?” Meg giggled, “You silly. You’re my hero.”
Ben said, “This trip’s taught me I’ve foolishly placed unimportant things above our marriage. Please forgive me.” Meg smiled. “Forgiven.” He squeezed her. “Happy anniversary! I’ve finally learned the best thing to hold onto in life is each other.”
“Meg is this your idea of a joke? How can you expect us to stay in a cabin without Wi-Fi cell service TV or electricity?” Realizing Ben hadn’t remembered their twenty-eighth anniversary, Meg held back tears. “I thought it would be a romantic place.”
Ben whined. “Great after a long arduous drive we arrive at an old shack in nowheresville.” He plopped into a plastic chair by the door. “This is the only sensible thing around.” Meg fumed. Just like our marriage it’s practical & nondescript.”
While Meg lit propane lanterns & logs in the hearth, she hoped her marriage would brighten. Ben doused damp BBQ coals with pungent fluid until they flared into hot flames. When she viewed his singed eyebrows, she offered, “How about a PBJ sandwich
The clink of crystal wine glasses accented the ambiance with a melodic hum. Zinfandel shimmered in the firelight’s soft glow. Meg felt the mood was dear. She toasted, “To us.” Ben snickered, “To us getting out of here the minute the weather clears.”
Winds pounded the cabin. Ben spat “We need more logs from the shed.” As Meg kept pace a gust knocked her off balance. Catching her in midair he scowled. “Now do you agree the simple life isn’t so simple?” To silence him Meg kissed his frosted lips.
After the storm Meg dragged Ben outside to watch the sunset. “The glittering snow looks like a trove of diamonds.” He didn’t respond until the space darkened and swirls of colors danced in the radiant sky. In awe he exclaimed, “The northern lights.”
Along with the Aurora Borealis another spectacular phenomenon occurred. Ben expressed, “I’m grateful for my many blessings.” Meg wondered if the lights had cast an enchanting spell, because besides his words of thanksgiving, Ben’s attitude mellowed.
Each morn they sipped hot spiced tea & stirred honey into oatmeal. During the days acting like kids they made snow angels had snowball fights & rolled down powdery hills. At night, they rediscovered each other & created magical erotic adventures.
While in Ben’s arms, Meg reminisced about their first date their whirlwind courtship & their passionate honeymoon. He asked, “What got you through the hard times making ends meet & worrying about our kids?” Meg giggled, “You silly. You’re my hero.”
Ben said, “This trip’s taught me I’ve foolishly placed unimportant things above our marriage. Please forgive me.” Meg smiled. “Forgiven.” He squeezed her. “Happy anniversary! I’ve finally learned the best thing to hold onto in life is each other.”
December
Resolute I traipsed over frozen ground & turned my head skyward. Under ethereal luminescence, I viewed a charcoal band across the man in the moon’s eyes. Chills slithered down my spine. Like him, was I blind, blind to the truth of Bo’s abandonment?
How could I waste time allaying my belly’s cries 4 nourishment when my soul hungered 4 Bo? Memories of us feasting on ordinary moments cuddling running on the beach and feeling the wind in our faces sated my appetite and filled my heart with hope.
Harrowing echoes skipped over crystallized stillness announcing death was claiming a life. Would my turn me next? Preparing me for a possible attack adrenaline pumped through my icy veins. Yet in my despondency, I didn’t care if I lived or died.
With repetitive shrieks, an owl called my name. I resigned myself to a gruesome fate. My only regret was I’d never know why Bo left me. The enemy crept closer but abruptly fled. Had I outsmarted the Grim Reaper by unwittingly showing no fear?
Fierce winds propelled my body thru a thick curtain of biting snow. Each subzero breath cut my lungs. Physical agony couldn’t dull emotional torment. With gushing tears locked under a frosty veneer, I neared the undercurrent of a motionless river.
Missing Bo my soul whirled in an abyss of excruciating loneliness. Without his smile reduced 2 a forlorn waif I dimly saw life’s splendors. Had he viewed our relationship as sport? Had he pretended 2 love me? Had I been his temporary playmate?
I wanted to believe Bo left me to save children in this distant land. I always knew his vocation came first. Needing to hear the why of him forsaking me my heart prepared for the worst, but no matter his reason, my unconditional love was eternal.
Bo’s tears & warm words told me he’d tried in vain 2 find me. I wished I could’ve explained my instinct 2 rescue a drowning fawn led me downstream out of earshot. While I licked his face, nuzzled my nose drawing in his scent I basked in his love.
Resolute I traipsed over frozen ground & turned my head skyward. Under ethereal luminescence, I viewed a charcoal band across the man in the moon’s eyes. Chills slithered down my spine. Like him, was I blind, blind to the truth of Bo’s abandonment?
How could I waste time allaying my belly’s cries 4 nourishment when my soul hungered 4 Bo? Memories of us feasting on ordinary moments cuddling running on the beach and feeling the wind in our faces sated my appetite and filled my heart with hope.
Harrowing echoes skipped over crystallized stillness announcing death was claiming a life. Would my turn me next? Preparing me for a possible attack adrenaline pumped through my icy veins. Yet in my despondency, I didn’t care if I lived or died.
With repetitive shrieks, an owl called my name. I resigned myself to a gruesome fate. My only regret was I’d never know why Bo left me. The enemy crept closer but abruptly fled. Had I outsmarted the Grim Reaper by unwittingly showing no fear?
Fierce winds propelled my body thru a thick curtain of biting snow. Each subzero breath cut my lungs. Physical agony couldn’t dull emotional torment. With gushing tears locked under a frosty veneer, I neared the undercurrent of a motionless river.
Missing Bo my soul whirled in an abyss of excruciating loneliness. Without his smile reduced 2 a forlorn waif I dimly saw life’s splendors. Had he viewed our relationship as sport? Had he pretended 2 love me? Had I been his temporary playmate?
I wanted to believe Bo left me to save children in this distant land. I always knew his vocation came first. Needing to hear the why of him forsaking me my heart prepared for the worst, but no matter his reason, my unconditional love was eternal.
Bo’s tears & warm words told me he’d tried in vain 2 find me. I wished I could’ve explained my instinct 2 rescue a drowning fawn led me downstream out of earshot. While I licked his face, nuzzled my nose drawing in his scent I basked in his love.
January
Nearing the port rough seas buffeted our vessel giant waves drenched its deck. Thru dense fog, I glimpsed Japanese built Mys Avina lighthouse. From its highest tower an eerie light akin to an ominous harbinger warned me of a perilous journey ahead.
As I toured Karafuto—post WWII recaptured S½ of Sakhalin Island—unprepared for abuses of a once prosperous society I felt ashamed of the Soviets. Yet bound by orders I began the sad task of evacuating 300K broken Japanese shipping them to Hokkaido.
Rather than being enemies, I realized these remote people were innocent of political crimes. They’d created a shiny metropolis crisscrossed with a narrow gauge railway, toiled in factories, endured dark polar nights & smiled under the midnight sun.
I knew a few words of Japanese but nothing of the culture. When I met Emi—an exotic beauty with ebony hair and a face as perfect as a porcelain doll—misunderstanding evaporated. Our eyes connected and we conversed in the universal language of love.
Housed in overcrowded barracks Emi was off limits. Protocol and prejudice prohibited us from actualizing our romance. I dreaded her sailing with the last of the evacuees until the radioisotope thermoelectric lighthouse beam pulsed an answer.
To Emi’s family I was the enemy; thus we couldn’t go to Japan. I couldn’t bring her to Russia for fear my father a communist party member would be banished. Since nuclear technology replaced the lighthouse crew, could it be a safe hiding place?
Amid the chaos of loading the ship I stowed Emi in a small craft and planned to row her to the lighthouse at dusk. Suddenly a violent storm came up. A giant wave overtook the harbor. When it receded my boat was adrift carrying my beloved out to sea.
Chastising myself for placing Emi in jeopardy, I searched 4 her until I glimpsed her boat dip below the horizon. Forcefully pressing oars into the squall my heart shed tears when the lighthouse illuminated a damaged skiff washed on its jagged shore.
I lifted Emi from the wreckage kissed her icy lips & placed her in my boat. Her words echoed my deepest desire. “Alive or dead I wish to be with you.” As the lighthouse’s glow faded in the distance, we sailed for the Aleutians toward our destiny.
Nearing the port rough seas buffeted our vessel giant waves drenched its deck. Thru dense fog, I glimpsed Japanese built Mys Avina lighthouse. From its highest tower an eerie light akin to an ominous harbinger warned me of a perilous journey ahead.
As I toured Karafuto—post WWII recaptured S½ of Sakhalin Island—unprepared for abuses of a once prosperous society I felt ashamed of the Soviets. Yet bound by orders I began the sad task of evacuating 300K broken Japanese shipping them to Hokkaido.
Rather than being enemies, I realized these remote people were innocent of political crimes. They’d created a shiny metropolis crisscrossed with a narrow gauge railway, toiled in factories, endured dark polar nights & smiled under the midnight sun.
I knew a few words of Japanese but nothing of the culture. When I met Emi—an exotic beauty with ebony hair and a face as perfect as a porcelain doll—misunderstanding evaporated. Our eyes connected and we conversed in the universal language of love.
Housed in overcrowded barracks Emi was off limits. Protocol and prejudice prohibited us from actualizing our romance. I dreaded her sailing with the last of the evacuees until the radioisotope thermoelectric lighthouse beam pulsed an answer.
To Emi’s family I was the enemy; thus we couldn’t go to Japan. I couldn’t bring her to Russia for fear my father a communist party member would be banished. Since nuclear technology replaced the lighthouse crew, could it be a safe hiding place?
Amid the chaos of loading the ship I stowed Emi in a small craft and planned to row her to the lighthouse at dusk. Suddenly a violent storm came up. A giant wave overtook the harbor. When it receded my boat was adrift carrying my beloved out to sea.
Chastising myself for placing Emi in jeopardy, I searched 4 her until I glimpsed her boat dip below the horizon. Forcefully pressing oars into the squall my heart shed tears when the lighthouse illuminated a damaged skiff washed on its jagged shore.
I lifted Emi from the wreckage kissed her icy lips & placed her in my boat. Her words echoed my deepest desire. “Alive or dead I wish to be with you.” As the lighthouse’s glow faded in the distance, we sailed for the Aleutians toward our destiny.
February
Once closed, I won’t be able to visit City Hall station to reminisce about our magical romance. Thinking of how the endless war took its toll, my teary eyes viewed changing kaleidoscope patterns within the skylight reminding me nothing’s permanent.
It began after work. On the train station’s chandelier lit platform, as if in a crowded ballroom, I leaned against the golden tile wall. Like a wallflower, I watched animated interactions. From a distance, Sam’s eyes met mine inviting me to dance.
Handsome in his dress uniform Sam’s words sounded like rehearsed lyrics, “Sorry for staring, but ma’am you’re just about the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” In contrast to our grand & opulent setting, his homespun twang led me to trust him.
Sam said, “Wish I could spend my entire leave right here under these domed arches with you.” Instead, we twirled through the streets chatting about little things important things. While he gawked at skyscrapers, I felt cupid’s arrow pierce my heart.
Hand & hand we waltzed into City Hall. With eyes only for each other we shut out the world & exchanged marriage vows. As enraptured forever Valentines we returned to the station traveled to a hotel & honeymooned in a land of ecstatic discovery.
At City Hall station like any married couple we made plans for our future a house with a white picket fence kids running around a yard us growing old together. Before Sam returned to the front I held him close hoping our souls would merge into one.
To get through long lonely days & nights as if it were a cathedral, I sat in City Hall station praying for Sam’s safety. I read and reread his letters & laughed at his corny jokes knowing they were his way of dealing with the horrors he witnessed.
Months after the fatal telegram I sat in City Hall station for the last time. Clutching Sam’s love letters I relived happy memories saw him smile felt his touch melting sorrow temporarily. Alas, like my heart our shrine was doomed to obsolescence.
k here to edit.
Once closed, I won’t be able to visit City Hall station to reminisce about our magical romance. Thinking of how the endless war took its toll, my teary eyes viewed changing kaleidoscope patterns within the skylight reminding me nothing’s permanent.
It began after work. On the train station’s chandelier lit platform, as if in a crowded ballroom, I leaned against the golden tile wall. Like a wallflower, I watched animated interactions. From a distance, Sam’s eyes met mine inviting me to dance.
Handsome in his dress uniform Sam’s words sounded like rehearsed lyrics, “Sorry for staring, but ma’am you’re just about the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” In contrast to our grand & opulent setting, his homespun twang led me to trust him.
Sam said, “Wish I could spend my entire leave right here under these domed arches with you.” Instead, we twirled through the streets chatting about little things important things. While he gawked at skyscrapers, I felt cupid’s arrow pierce my heart.
Hand & hand we waltzed into City Hall. With eyes only for each other we shut out the world & exchanged marriage vows. As enraptured forever Valentines we returned to the station traveled to a hotel & honeymooned in a land of ecstatic discovery.
At City Hall station like any married couple we made plans for our future a house with a white picket fence kids running around a yard us growing old together. Before Sam returned to the front I held him close hoping our souls would merge into one.
To get through long lonely days & nights as if it were a cathedral, I sat in City Hall station praying for Sam’s safety. I read and reread his letters & laughed at his corny jokes knowing they were his way of dealing with the horrors he witnessed.
Months after the fatal telegram I sat in City Hall station for the last time. Clutching Sam’s love letters I relived happy memories saw him smile felt his touch melting sorrow temporarily. Alas, like my heart our shrine was doomed to obsolescence.
k here to edit.
March
Plagued by haunting memories of you I felt compelled to roam the rooms of the deserted hotel. Here you wooed me with false words of love. Your eyes dancing with intrigue lured me into your arms. Your lips teased me with pleasures yet to come.
Naïve & innocent I was no match for your corruption. Slowly your perfected charisma controlled me. You led me into a bed of sin & coaxed me into an unthinkable debauchery. While you violated my flesh you twisted my mind to believe you were a god.
Once you possessed my heart, you revealed your true persona. Your mood shifted from a brilliantly glowing heat to erupting like a volcano spewing forth hot, suffocating molten rock. Your rage ravished my being leaving me barren as a wasteland.
In public you flaunted my lithe body like a coveted prize. The eyes of others viewed us the ideal couple you strong handsome I statuesque beautiful. In private you fervidly demanded I perform immoral acts & systematically whittled my self-respect.
I gazed at the penthouse suite cringing as I relived the episodes of your deceit. You boasted of infidelities. Each intimate detail pounded me harder than physical blows. To no avail, my hands covered my ears trying to block out your vile assaults.
Either thick walls & mossy rooftops hushed my cries or well-paid staff ignored me begging you to stop hurting me. Like a miser, you doled out momentary peace. While I trembled like a terrified child exhausted by your exploits, you slept like a baby.
In strategically planned moments you grieved wept apologized and explained invisible demons provoked your madness. I believed you forgave you. Caught in a destructive cycle we chained ourselves in a dank dungeon where the only way out was death.
Under your spell, I drifted toward the falls. The mist like thousands of sharp pellets beat my cheeks reminding me of your violent temper. It was as if your spirit, in all its fury lived within the cascading water, powerful dangerous & seductive.
I shouted into the wind. “I’m glad I pushed you. I’m happy you’re dead & forever gone.” Your deep masculine voice rang out as clear as the crystal droplets spraying my face. “In taking my life, you condemned your soul to our eternal fusion in hell.”
Plagued by haunting memories of you I felt compelled to roam the rooms of the deserted hotel. Here you wooed me with false words of love. Your eyes dancing with intrigue lured me into your arms. Your lips teased me with pleasures yet to come.
Naïve & innocent I was no match for your corruption. Slowly your perfected charisma controlled me. You led me into a bed of sin & coaxed me into an unthinkable debauchery. While you violated my flesh you twisted my mind to believe you were a god.
Once you possessed my heart, you revealed your true persona. Your mood shifted from a brilliantly glowing heat to erupting like a volcano spewing forth hot, suffocating molten rock. Your rage ravished my being leaving me barren as a wasteland.
In public you flaunted my lithe body like a coveted prize. The eyes of others viewed us the ideal couple you strong handsome I statuesque beautiful. In private you fervidly demanded I perform immoral acts & systematically whittled my self-respect.
I gazed at the penthouse suite cringing as I relived the episodes of your deceit. You boasted of infidelities. Each intimate detail pounded me harder than physical blows. To no avail, my hands covered my ears trying to block out your vile assaults.
Either thick walls & mossy rooftops hushed my cries or well-paid staff ignored me begging you to stop hurting me. Like a miser, you doled out momentary peace. While I trembled like a terrified child exhausted by your exploits, you slept like a baby.
In strategically planned moments you grieved wept apologized and explained invisible demons provoked your madness. I believed you forgave you. Caught in a destructive cycle we chained ourselves in a dank dungeon where the only way out was death.
Under your spell, I drifted toward the falls. The mist like thousands of sharp pellets beat my cheeks reminding me of your violent temper. It was as if your spirit, in all its fury lived within the cascading water, powerful dangerous & seductive.
I shouted into the wind. “I’m glad I pushed you. I’m happy you’re dead & forever gone.” Your deep masculine voice rang out as clear as the crystal droplets spraying my face. “In taking my life, you condemned your soul to our eternal fusion in hell.”
April
I thought the objective of our office retreat was to bond in an outbound-training experience but only CEO Bob & I showed up for the combo glacier/Kennecott ghost town tour. When given ice crampons I wondered what my colleagues knew that I didn’t.
Our guide Ty led the way but Bob tagging close behind gave detailed instructions. Without warning, he stopped to take a selfie. My body slammed into his & my feet skidded out from under me. Whish, I slipped over the rim toward certain annihilation.
Ty’s long arm caught me. My body dangled & swayed. Mesmerized by an eerie shrill wind, I foolishly gazed below the mountain at the14-level copper mill the miners’ red painted dwellings & the hospital, which housed the first x-ray machine in Alaska.
Bob scolding Ty for not pulling me up faster broke my trance. After my pulse slowed I insisted we climb to Root Glacier. With vivid blue pools aglow in deep crevasses & wavy rainbows arching from waterfalls the tricky arduous hike didn’t disappoint.
While Bob continued his chatter, an angry ambiance descended. Screeching air currents silenced him. Steely clouds stole the sunlight & cast dark shadows on the frigid ground. Along with a growling thunderclap hail, the size of mothballs attacked us.
Bob ran for cover. I felt a cold I’d never encountered before. Ty sheltered my body with his & said, “The storm will soon pass.” Bob shouted, “How dare you bring us up here on a day like this? I need medical attention.” Ty ignored his complaints.
Hours dragged before the skies cleared. The brightly lit sky dried & warmed us. All the way to the base, Bob ranted demanding a refund for a dreadful day without food or comforts. Humbled by the adventure I hugged Ty & thanked him for saving me.
The staff listened to Bob brag about rescuing me helping me endure the tempest & leading me safely back. He turned to me. “Our newbie learned a few things.” I nodded. “I now know I can’t trust a company run by an inept arrogant egotist. I resign.”
I thought the objective of our office retreat was to bond in an outbound-training experience but only CEO Bob & I showed up for the combo glacier/Kennecott ghost town tour. When given ice crampons I wondered what my colleagues knew that I didn’t.
Our guide Ty led the way but Bob tagging close behind gave detailed instructions. Without warning, he stopped to take a selfie. My body slammed into his & my feet skidded out from under me. Whish, I slipped over the rim toward certain annihilation.
Ty’s long arm caught me. My body dangled & swayed. Mesmerized by an eerie shrill wind, I foolishly gazed below the mountain at the14-level copper mill the miners’ red painted dwellings & the hospital, which housed the first x-ray machine in Alaska.
Bob scolding Ty for not pulling me up faster broke my trance. After my pulse slowed I insisted we climb to Root Glacier. With vivid blue pools aglow in deep crevasses & wavy rainbows arching from waterfalls the tricky arduous hike didn’t disappoint.
While Bob continued his chatter, an angry ambiance descended. Screeching air currents silenced him. Steely clouds stole the sunlight & cast dark shadows on the frigid ground. Along with a growling thunderclap hail, the size of mothballs attacked us.
Bob ran for cover. I felt a cold I’d never encountered before. Ty sheltered my body with his & said, “The storm will soon pass.” Bob shouted, “How dare you bring us up here on a day like this? I need medical attention.” Ty ignored his complaints.
Hours dragged before the skies cleared. The brightly lit sky dried & warmed us. All the way to the base, Bob ranted demanding a refund for a dreadful day without food or comforts. Humbled by the adventure I hugged Ty & thanked him for saving me.
The staff listened to Bob brag about rescuing me helping me endure the tempest & leading me safely back. He turned to me. “Our newbie learned a few things.” I nodded. “I now know I can’t trust a company run by an inept arrogant egotist. I resign.”
May 2019
Now an aging man I stood in the church’s sanctuary under its unstable roof. The devastation resembled my soul strewn with decades of neglect. Like a vandal, I’d violated God’s beautiful temple. I pillaged His treasures & sold them for fake riches.
Viewing my next film’s site stirred myriad of emotions. In my youth, I worshiped the Almighty in this once venerated Gothic edifice. I lived in a virtuous home with mom, dad & Sis until life’s jaws opened wide & swallowed our values in one gulp.
The collapse of the steel factory crushed my dad’s heart stopping it forever. Boxed in by our endless needs my mom found an escape hatch in cheap gin. Like stray dogs, Sis & I roamed squalid streets. To feed us she sold her pure body in back alleys.
Without saying farewell, Sis shot up her last opium fix. Leaving the ugly nothingness, I vowed never to return. Believing money like an omnipotent god could save me, I devoutly pursued the quest of stuffing my personal chapel’s coffers with dollars.
As a materialistic zealot Hollywood’s hedonistic culture suited me to a tee. Lacking scruples, I rapidly clawed by way to the top. Along with those in the shallow congregation, I overindulged in the orgiastic ambiance finding pleasure but no joy.
Wallowing in an abyss of loneliness, I vacated Tinseltown. Moving from La-La Land, I found contentment living with unpretentious folks. In memory of Sis, I set up a foundation for struggling teens. A movie offer in Gary drew me out of retirement.
Gary had declined beyond my horrific recollections. Rather than healing, wounds festered. A decreased population lived in dismal poverty. Lowering integrity to match substandard economic levels, the citizenry inflicted rampant crimes on each other.
Teary-eyed I viewed the dilapidated church. Despair & raw anger had mutilated its glory. Instead of revitalizing their inheritance gripped by learned helplessness the community perpetuated its ill fate. Yet a faint echo promised hope for the future.
Amid choking dust & layers of trash, I circulated the rotting structure. I realized our pastor’s heated sermons had penetrated my deaf ears & lingered in the folds of my mind. When needed most, these hidden divine sparks helped me see a new path.
From stained glass windows, a diffused light akin to a rainbow illuminated the vastness. Hundreds of hurled stones hadn’t reached high enough to break the vivid panels reminding me no matter my brash attempts God’s loftiness couldn’t be destroyed.
Now an aging man I stood in the church’s sanctuary under its unstable roof. The devastation resembled my soul strewn with decades of neglect. Like a vandal, I’d violated God’s beautiful temple. I pillaged His treasures & sold them for fake riches.
Viewing my next film’s site stirred myriad of emotions. In my youth, I worshiped the Almighty in this once venerated Gothic edifice. I lived in a virtuous home with mom, dad & Sis until life’s jaws opened wide & swallowed our values in one gulp.
The collapse of the steel factory crushed my dad’s heart stopping it forever. Boxed in by our endless needs my mom found an escape hatch in cheap gin. Like stray dogs, Sis & I roamed squalid streets. To feed us she sold her pure body in back alleys.
Without saying farewell, Sis shot up her last opium fix. Leaving the ugly nothingness, I vowed never to return. Believing money like an omnipotent god could save me, I devoutly pursued the quest of stuffing my personal chapel’s coffers with dollars.
As a materialistic zealot Hollywood’s hedonistic culture suited me to a tee. Lacking scruples, I rapidly clawed by way to the top. Along with those in the shallow congregation, I overindulged in the orgiastic ambiance finding pleasure but no joy.
Wallowing in an abyss of loneliness, I vacated Tinseltown. Moving from La-La Land, I found contentment living with unpretentious folks. In memory of Sis, I set up a foundation for struggling teens. A movie offer in Gary drew me out of retirement.
Gary had declined beyond my horrific recollections. Rather than healing, wounds festered. A decreased population lived in dismal poverty. Lowering integrity to match substandard economic levels, the citizenry inflicted rampant crimes on each other.
Teary-eyed I viewed the dilapidated church. Despair & raw anger had mutilated its glory. Instead of revitalizing their inheritance gripped by learned helplessness the community perpetuated its ill fate. Yet a faint echo promised hope for the future.
Amid choking dust & layers of trash, I circulated the rotting structure. I realized our pastor’s heated sermons had penetrated my deaf ears & lingered in the folds of my mind. When needed most, these hidden divine sparks helped me see a new path.
From stained glass windows, a diffused light akin to a rainbow illuminated the vastness. Hundreds of hurled stones hadn’t reached high enough to break the vivid panels reminding me no matter my brash attempts God’s loftiness couldn’t be destroyed.
June
I naively believed my fit husband & I would share many happy years, but a hidden aneurysm swelled. Like a volcano, it suddenly erupted drowning him in an unstoppable red sea. Duped by fate I felt it fitting to take an assignment on Deception Island.
As a seasoned photographer I attempted to view surroundings through objective lenses. Yet my inflamed spirit focused on natural and manmade desolation. Bleak described photos of the flooded caldera edged by black sands littered with rusty buildings.
My camera captured stark jagged cliffs covered with glaciers buried under layers of ash. Struck by an overwhelming kinship the scene reflected a dark veil of abandonment weighing heavily on my frozen being. Uncontrollable pain pulsed in slow motion.
Death’s fiery breath had blown away the crown of my heart, my beloved. In its stead, a gaping hole flooded with hot stinging tears. Gravitating to the blue pool, I sensed its underwater turbulence matched my volatility & could explode at any moment.
Pushing grief aside, I explored the land of fire & ice. Haunting winds howled through empty buildings rotting skiffs damaged airplanes & grave markers. Pieces of an ecological puzzle they depicted a history of interactions between humans & nature.
Greedy men hunted seals just shy of extinction. Money hungry men harpooned whales for its oil. Soon a greater force stopped villains from raping the sea for no man is powerful enough to warm frigid air cool steamy volcanoes or tame lashing waves.
Despite its harsh weather the island teemed with life. As I watched playful chinstrap penguins involuntary giggles slipped past my lips. I smiled at lounging leopard elephant & Weddel seals exuding a quiet triumph for outliving formidable predators.
Under circling seagulls, I peered into a tide pool. I marveled at a brittle starfish whose center sported its mirror image. Between rocks, a cushiony pearlwort’s tiny yellow flowers left me breathless. Miraculously I too would find a way to thrive.
I naively believed my fit husband & I would share many happy years, but a hidden aneurysm swelled. Like a volcano, it suddenly erupted drowning him in an unstoppable red sea. Duped by fate I felt it fitting to take an assignment on Deception Island.
As a seasoned photographer I attempted to view surroundings through objective lenses. Yet my inflamed spirit focused on natural and manmade desolation. Bleak described photos of the flooded caldera edged by black sands littered with rusty buildings.
My camera captured stark jagged cliffs covered with glaciers buried under layers of ash. Struck by an overwhelming kinship the scene reflected a dark veil of abandonment weighing heavily on my frozen being. Uncontrollable pain pulsed in slow motion.
Death’s fiery breath had blown away the crown of my heart, my beloved. In its stead, a gaping hole flooded with hot stinging tears. Gravitating to the blue pool, I sensed its underwater turbulence matched my volatility & could explode at any moment.
Pushing grief aside, I explored the land of fire & ice. Haunting winds howled through empty buildings rotting skiffs damaged airplanes & grave markers. Pieces of an ecological puzzle they depicted a history of interactions between humans & nature.
Greedy men hunted seals just shy of extinction. Money hungry men harpooned whales for its oil. Soon a greater force stopped villains from raping the sea for no man is powerful enough to warm frigid air cool steamy volcanoes or tame lashing waves.
Despite its harsh weather the island teemed with life. As I watched playful chinstrap penguins involuntary giggles slipped past my lips. I smiled at lounging leopard elephant & Weddel seals exuding a quiet triumph for outliving formidable predators.
Under circling seagulls, I peered into a tide pool. I marveled at a brittle starfish whose center sported its mirror image. Between rocks, a cushiony pearlwort’s tiny yellow flowers left me breathless. Miraculously I too would find a way to thrive.
July
Sandals clicking on my ancestors’ ancient streets loudly announced my arrival in the medieval town of Averyron. To immerse myself in the past, I volunteered as a bilingual docent for summer events at la Maison de Jeanne, the oldest house in France.
I studied the façade with its ground floor once sheltering livestock, its overhanging first floor, its corbelled construction with oval & mullion windows. But what fascinated me most was its muted iridescent aura hinting at hidden romantic intrigue.
Preparing for a group of visitors I donned a peasant’s long tunic, tied a roped girdle around my waist and as tradition dictated I hid my curls in a cap. While straightening a cloth over a dining table, I experienced an unnerving sense of déjà vu.
The simple act of lighting a candle prompted an eerie pervasive sensation. It was as if I’d been here & done this numerous times before. Every detail of the room from its exposed ceiling beams to its colombage half-timbered walls felt familiar.
Using logic I scolded myself for imagining an unproven phenomenon. After a group of twenty sat on wooden benches, I attempted to recite a memorized informative speech, but when my lips parted the voice of a soft-spoken woman began telling her story.
As if spellbound, the audience clung to the maiden’s every word. Hers was an anguished tale. A cruel man assaulted her beloved, ripped her from his arms, bound her hands & feet, dumped her into a cart & dragged her over miles of foreign terrain.
Until her premature death, not able to find a way or the means of escaping the maiden mournfully lived in this dwelling serving its vile master. Tears slipped down my cheeks awakening me to the realization that her spirit & mine were one & the same.
Riveted to the spot I didn’t flinch as a handsome visitor came close saying, “I dreamt you’d return today.” Reunited in the moment his strong arms embraced me. His amazing kiss reminded me of our past mutual passion & promised me a rapturous future.
Sandals clicking on my ancestors’ ancient streets loudly announced my arrival in the medieval town of Averyron. To immerse myself in the past, I volunteered as a bilingual docent for summer events at la Maison de Jeanne, the oldest house in France.
I studied the façade with its ground floor once sheltering livestock, its overhanging first floor, its corbelled construction with oval & mullion windows. But what fascinated me most was its muted iridescent aura hinting at hidden romantic intrigue.
Preparing for a group of visitors I donned a peasant’s long tunic, tied a roped girdle around my waist and as tradition dictated I hid my curls in a cap. While straightening a cloth over a dining table, I experienced an unnerving sense of déjà vu.
The simple act of lighting a candle prompted an eerie pervasive sensation. It was as if I’d been here & done this numerous times before. Every detail of the room from its exposed ceiling beams to its colombage half-timbered walls felt familiar.
Using logic I scolded myself for imagining an unproven phenomenon. After a group of twenty sat on wooden benches, I attempted to recite a memorized informative speech, but when my lips parted the voice of a soft-spoken woman began telling her story.
As if spellbound, the audience clung to the maiden’s every word. Hers was an anguished tale. A cruel man assaulted her beloved, ripped her from his arms, bound her hands & feet, dumped her into a cart & dragged her over miles of foreign terrain.
Until her premature death, not able to find a way or the means of escaping the maiden mournfully lived in this dwelling serving its vile master. Tears slipped down my cheeks awakening me to the realization that her spirit & mine were one & the same.
Riveted to the spot I didn’t flinch as a handsome visitor came close saying, “I dreamt you’d return today.” Reunited in the moment his strong arms embraced me. His amazing kiss reminded me of our past mutual passion & promised me a rapturous future.
August
My Sunnu: As a guest at your splendid wedding, I understood why you chose to remain in America. Forgive your aging grandma’s folly. Since you won't be using the apartment I purchased for you years ago in Ordos Kangbashi I’ve decided to move there.
My Sunnu: Some call this place a ghost city but to me it’s a refreshing energizing retreat. Unlike Beijing’s crowded polluted streets, avenues here are almost deserted. Its low population affords me the luxury of contemplating my past in peace.
My Sunnu: From a towering five star hotel’s rooftop I gazed at a panoramic view perfect as a still life painting of modern skyscrapers roads & sleek bridges across tributaries of the Yellow River & my wrinkles stood out in contrast to the newness.
My Sunnu: Within geodesic domes housing ancient artifacts, I studied to be a future museum docent. Akin to undulating Gobi desert sands a youthfulness swirled through me. The volunteer septuagenarian guard, Gui, caught my eye and captured my fancy.
My Sunnu: While rivulets of icy rain streaked the windows, modern equipment kept my rooms comfortably warm. Taking advantage of my confinement, I used colorful brushstrokes to create gongbi—detailed figural & narrative scenes—on stark white walls.
My Sunnu: During the frigid winter I decorated old furnishings to the point of being proud to invite guests to my home. The museum staff arrived to begin the 15-day New Year celebration. Like a schoolgirl this single hoped Gui would be her Valentine.
My Sunnu: Our tiny population carried out Lunar New Year traditions. We make dumplings rice cakes spring rolls and fish. The eldest to the youngest exchanged red envelopes stuffed with lucky money. We showered a promising sky with rockets of hope.
My Sunnu: My arranged marriage to your grandfather ended in months when a war claimed his life. Perhaps you can sense me blushing? As we watched the few folk dancers spin & twirl, Gui slipped his hand in mine gently kissed my cheek & made my heart race.
My Sunnu: Like all rarities, Gui is a treasure to revere & hold in esteem. He escorted me to hospital visits & waited while the underutilized staff eagerly put their expertise to work curing my ailment. Cheerfully he prepared my meals & cared for me.
My Sunnu: Drenched in happiness as fresh as spring rain I inhale fragrant scents under the sprawling canopy of Ordos’ prettiest park. Basking in Gui’s embrace I marvel at my fortune. You’ll soon see this fine city & meet my soul mate at our wedding.
My Sunnu: As a guest at your splendid wedding, I understood why you chose to remain in America. Forgive your aging grandma’s folly. Since you won't be using the apartment I purchased for you years ago in Ordos Kangbashi I’ve decided to move there.
My Sunnu: Some call this place a ghost city but to me it’s a refreshing energizing retreat. Unlike Beijing’s crowded polluted streets, avenues here are almost deserted. Its low population affords me the luxury of contemplating my past in peace.
My Sunnu: From a towering five star hotel’s rooftop I gazed at a panoramic view perfect as a still life painting of modern skyscrapers roads & sleek bridges across tributaries of the Yellow River & my wrinkles stood out in contrast to the newness.
My Sunnu: Within geodesic domes housing ancient artifacts, I studied to be a future museum docent. Akin to undulating Gobi desert sands a youthfulness swirled through me. The volunteer septuagenarian guard, Gui, caught my eye and captured my fancy.
My Sunnu: While rivulets of icy rain streaked the windows, modern equipment kept my rooms comfortably warm. Taking advantage of my confinement, I used colorful brushstrokes to create gongbi—detailed figural & narrative scenes—on stark white walls.
My Sunnu: During the frigid winter I decorated old furnishings to the point of being proud to invite guests to my home. The museum staff arrived to begin the 15-day New Year celebration. Like a schoolgirl this single hoped Gui would be her Valentine.
My Sunnu: Our tiny population carried out Lunar New Year traditions. We make dumplings rice cakes spring rolls and fish. The eldest to the youngest exchanged red envelopes stuffed with lucky money. We showered a promising sky with rockets of hope.
My Sunnu: My arranged marriage to your grandfather ended in months when a war claimed his life. Perhaps you can sense me blushing? As we watched the few folk dancers spin & twirl, Gui slipped his hand in mine gently kissed my cheek & made my heart race.
My Sunnu: Like all rarities, Gui is a treasure to revere & hold in esteem. He escorted me to hospital visits & waited while the underutilized staff eagerly put their expertise to work curing my ailment. Cheerfully he prepared my meals & cared for me.
My Sunnu: Drenched in happiness as fresh as spring rain I inhale fragrant scents under the sprawling canopy of Ordos’ prettiest park. Basking in Gui’s embrace I marvel at my fortune. You’ll soon see this fine city & meet my soul mate at our wedding.
September
Iridescent feathers slipped into a soft bed of succulent leaves. Nestling toward the heartwood sensations of joy tickled her spirit. Upon the floating forest, she’d wait for her life mate. Together they’d nurture the eggs of their welcomed family.
Rhythmic rocking transported her exhausted form to a place of dreams. She saw him soaring effortlessly over kaleidoscopic landscapes. He drifted above towering buildings toward Homebush Bay before zooming in on mangroves spilling over a rusty wreck.
Her eyes opened flashing amber beads bright as sunlight. Her wings stretched to lift her skyward. She flew in ever widening circles searching. Her tweets called his name in vain. She tried not to but couldn’t help thinking the worst had happened.
To quell jitters, she busied herself making an elaborate nest. She rummaged between branches, pecked at debris, & chose fibrous & cushioning materials to weave a basinet. Despite feeling satisfied with her creation, she couldn’t shake ominous fears.
Days filled with pitiful cries pierced the night & aroused the dead. Translucent shapes surrounded her. Thinking her beloved had joined their ranks she trembled. While reassuring her he lived, she felt their anguish & asked, “How can I help you?”
The ghosts replied, “During a long war, we died bringing food to save others. Guilt for abandoning our loved ones keeps us rooted to these woods.” Defying their belief, she flew each spirit near & far to discover the fate of those they’d left behind.
Tears of satisfaction showered the ghosts transforming them into dazzling balls of light streaming toward Heaven. In their wake, a velvety glow embraced her. She felt their peace & gratitude. They whispered, “Your kindness shan’t go unrewarded.”
She hovered above an idyllic home hidden in thick vegetation. Hope turned her head from the tanker to a sky clear as glass. Far in the distance, she spied a familiar form. Her heart raced faster than her wings as she rushed toward her one true love.
Iridescent feathers slipped into a soft bed of succulent leaves. Nestling toward the heartwood sensations of joy tickled her spirit. Upon the floating forest, she’d wait for her life mate. Together they’d nurture the eggs of their welcomed family.
Rhythmic rocking transported her exhausted form to a place of dreams. She saw him soaring effortlessly over kaleidoscopic landscapes. He drifted above towering buildings toward Homebush Bay before zooming in on mangroves spilling over a rusty wreck.
Her eyes opened flashing amber beads bright as sunlight. Her wings stretched to lift her skyward. She flew in ever widening circles searching. Her tweets called his name in vain. She tried not to but couldn’t help thinking the worst had happened.
To quell jitters, she busied herself making an elaborate nest. She rummaged between branches, pecked at debris, & chose fibrous & cushioning materials to weave a basinet. Despite feeling satisfied with her creation, she couldn’t shake ominous fears.
Days filled with pitiful cries pierced the night & aroused the dead. Translucent shapes surrounded her. Thinking her beloved had joined their ranks she trembled. While reassuring her he lived, she felt their anguish & asked, “How can I help you?”
The ghosts replied, “During a long war, we died bringing food to save others. Guilt for abandoning our loved ones keeps us rooted to these woods.” Defying their belief, she flew each spirit near & far to discover the fate of those they’d left behind.
Tears of satisfaction showered the ghosts transforming them into dazzling balls of light streaming toward Heaven. In their wake, a velvety glow embraced her. She felt their peace & gratitude. They whispered, “Your kindness shan’t go unrewarded.”
She hovered above an idyllic home hidden in thick vegetation. Hope turned her head from the tanker to a sky clear as glass. Far in the distance, she spied a familiar form. Her heart raced faster than her wings as she rushed toward her one true love.
October
Self-aggrandizing visitors stood on a narrow ledge overlooking Devil’s Den. A voice announced, “You’ve been carefully selected.” Each stranger gloated until the voice added, “Your hypocritical lives have brought you to the edge of nothingness.”
Guests from different backgrounds angrily protested. As their indignant reproaches bounced off limestone walls a cloud of dust ricocheted back to appalled gaping mouths. The voice commanded, “Hush or you’ll forfeit your last chance at redemption.”
A clergyman cried, “This is a mistake. I’ve always served others.” “Do you have remorse for molesting innocent children?” “My actions were a result of a sex addiction.” A rumbling caused the earth beneath his feet to dislodge taking him with it.
A mother sobbed, “To provide an intact home for my kids I tolerated violence.” “Why didn’t you protect & remove them from their father’s abuses?” “I loved him. He couldn’t help it if alcohol made him mean.” A falling rock knocked her off the edge.
A professor pontificated, “I’m an esteemed academic.” “Why did you choose to indoctrinate your students rather than educate them?” “Since I’m smarter than others I taught the virgin minds what I believe.” A fierce wind blew him into the depths.
A district attorney bellowed, “You made a gross error. I rid the streets of nasty criminals.” “Didn’t you win cases by withholding evidence?” “Those lowlifes would’ve eventually ended up in jail.” A lightning bolt struck nudging her over the side.
A politician protested, “You can’t do this to me. I’m too important.” “Why did you lie to your constituents often putting ego & personal gain before the good of your country?” “I know what’s best for them.” Raindrops washed her to the pit below.
The last guest fell to his knees & humbly confessed, “I deserve to be thrown into the netherworld’s bottomless lake. I alone am responsible for my misbehaviors. No excuses can undo my ill deeds.” An eerie groan accompanied the voice. “Be gone.”
From the depths of the Devil’s Den a foul stench rose carrying the voice boasting, “I scored another victory. All, but one, are mine to taunt & torment until each is ready to taint the world by spreading his/her particular brand of hypocrisy.”
Self-aggrandizing visitors stood on a narrow ledge overlooking Devil’s Den. A voice announced, “You’ve been carefully selected.” Each stranger gloated until the voice added, “Your hypocritical lives have brought you to the edge of nothingness.”
Guests from different backgrounds angrily protested. As their indignant reproaches bounced off limestone walls a cloud of dust ricocheted back to appalled gaping mouths. The voice commanded, “Hush or you’ll forfeit your last chance at redemption.”
A clergyman cried, “This is a mistake. I’ve always served others.” “Do you have remorse for molesting innocent children?” “My actions were a result of a sex addiction.” A rumbling caused the earth beneath his feet to dislodge taking him with it.
A mother sobbed, “To provide an intact home for my kids I tolerated violence.” “Why didn’t you protect & remove them from their father’s abuses?” “I loved him. He couldn’t help it if alcohol made him mean.” A falling rock knocked her off the edge.
A professor pontificated, “I’m an esteemed academic.” “Why did you choose to indoctrinate your students rather than educate them?” “Since I’m smarter than others I taught the virgin minds what I believe.” A fierce wind blew him into the depths.
A district attorney bellowed, “You made a gross error. I rid the streets of nasty criminals.” “Didn’t you win cases by withholding evidence?” “Those lowlifes would’ve eventually ended up in jail.” A lightning bolt struck nudging her over the side.
A politician protested, “You can’t do this to me. I’m too important.” “Why did you lie to your constituents often putting ego & personal gain before the good of your country?” “I know what’s best for them.” Raindrops washed her to the pit below.
The last guest fell to his knees & humbly confessed, “I deserve to be thrown into the netherworld’s bottomless lake. I alone am responsible for my misbehaviors. No excuses can undo my ill deeds.” An eerie groan accompanied the voice. “Be gone.”
From the depths of the Devil’s Den a foul stench rose carrying the voice boasting, “I scored another victory. All, but one, are mine to taunt & torment until each is ready to taint the world by spreading his/her particular brand of hypocrisy.”
November
Since Paul’s death, a strangulating vice closed my heart. Fleeing an empty house, I sought refuge in the past. As I strolled the paths of Plimouth Plantation, rather than thoughts of heroic triumphs visions of endless sacrifices swirled in my head.
While studying Plimouth’s history, along with gushing tears I felt a resounding kinship with my Marine, Paul, & the Pilgrims. Bound to their mission of preserving freedom they witnessed, endured, and were willing to pay the ultimate price for victory.
I struggled to grasp riveting statistics: 45 of the 102 Mayflower passengers perished during the sea journey & subsequent winter in the New World. Instead of dwelling on their casualties, the surviving settlers clung to hope for brighter tomorrows.
During the final training session, mistrusting unbridled emotions I sat in the last row & lowered my head. Curly auburn locks draped my face & grief flooded my mind. “Hi. I’m Pete your designated partner.” He reached out his hand to shake mine.
Pete & I reenacted a married couple who’d traveled across the Atlantic aboard the Mayflower. Pretending didn’t lift my state of mourning when I portrayed one of the four adult females who lived to celebrate the first thanksgiving celebration.
In subsequent vignettes as a typical young Pilgrim mother I recalled having given birth 7 times, but losing 5 babes before his/her 1st birthday. Unable to conceal agonizing pain my body shook with sorrow. “You’re a natural,” Pete complimented.
With the slow acting elixir of time, healing transpired. My focus turned to the settlement’s moral growth. Widows obtained the right to inherit land. Although laws didn’t prohibit spousal abuse the community punished batterers with pubic whippings.
Bowing my head in thanksgiving, I savored memories of my romantic & loving relationship with Paul. I expressed gratitude for the personal offering he & other fallen patriots made to ensure the Pilgrims’ quest for sacred human freedoms continued.
With a brilliant freshness, snowflakes covered the Plantation grounds. Pete gave me a gentle hug & whispered, “I’ll miss you.” Sincerely I said, “Thanks for aiding my therapy. I’ll miss you, too.” He immediately asked me out & I happily accepted.
Since Paul’s death, a strangulating vice closed my heart. Fleeing an empty house, I sought refuge in the past. As I strolled the paths of Plimouth Plantation, rather than thoughts of heroic triumphs visions of endless sacrifices swirled in my head.
While studying Plimouth’s history, along with gushing tears I felt a resounding kinship with my Marine, Paul, & the Pilgrims. Bound to their mission of preserving freedom they witnessed, endured, and were willing to pay the ultimate price for victory.
I struggled to grasp riveting statistics: 45 of the 102 Mayflower passengers perished during the sea journey & subsequent winter in the New World. Instead of dwelling on their casualties, the surviving settlers clung to hope for brighter tomorrows.
During the final training session, mistrusting unbridled emotions I sat in the last row & lowered my head. Curly auburn locks draped my face & grief flooded my mind. “Hi. I’m Pete your designated partner.” He reached out his hand to shake mine.
Pete & I reenacted a married couple who’d traveled across the Atlantic aboard the Mayflower. Pretending didn’t lift my state of mourning when I portrayed one of the four adult females who lived to celebrate the first thanksgiving celebration.
In subsequent vignettes as a typical young Pilgrim mother I recalled having given birth 7 times, but losing 5 babes before his/her 1st birthday. Unable to conceal agonizing pain my body shook with sorrow. “You’re a natural,” Pete complimented.
With the slow acting elixir of time, healing transpired. My focus turned to the settlement’s moral growth. Widows obtained the right to inherit land. Although laws didn’t prohibit spousal abuse the community punished batterers with pubic whippings.
Bowing my head in thanksgiving, I savored memories of my romantic & loving relationship with Paul. I expressed gratitude for the personal offering he & other fallen patriots made to ensure the Pilgrims’ quest for sacred human freedoms continued.
With a brilliant freshness, snowflakes covered the Plantation grounds. Pete gave me a gentle hug & whispered, “I’ll miss you.” Sincerely I said, “Thanks for aiding my therapy. I’ll miss you, too.” He immediately asked me out & I happily accepted.
December
Between raspy coughs mom asked, “Please bring this gift to amazing Grace.” I gulped down a less flattering epithet & visited our 92-year old neighbor. When I placed a framed print in her veiny hands, Grace immediately shoved it under her sofa.
“Did you look at Mom’s present? It’s by the painter of light.” From Grace’s skeletal features, two blue orbs glared at me. Ricocheting chills caused me to shake in my checkerboard Vans. Her words melted my fears. “Want some hot chocolate & cookies?”
While I enjoyed her yummy treats, a corner of the room filled with enchanting twinkling lights topped with a white winged angel held me spellbound. Grace’s voice chimed, “Even at my age it wouldn’t feel like Christmas without decorating a tree.”
“The picture Mom gave you is famous.”
She nodded. “Why did she give me T. Kinkade’s imitation of Christmas memories? Does she think I’ve forgotten mine? Tucked in my heart are recollections sweet as powdered sugar & prickly as pine needles.”
“Mom thought you’d like the scene.” Grace inhaled deeply. “It’s before my time, but a tragedy brought me to the tiny church.” A tear skimmed her cheek. She blurted, “The first painter of light is renowned J.M.W. Turner. He first exhibited as a teen.”
With sorrow or joy moistening her cheeks, Grace took me by the hand to a miniature Nativity. “This is the season to exult the true Light. He came as a babe to remind us each child of God blessed with abundant gifts has a chance to reflect His love.”
Grace reached down & pulled out the wintry print. “Please give this back to your mom. Apparently, she’s among the many who like it & thank her for giving me the present of your presence. No gift could be greater than to see future’s lovely face.”
Outside the cold wind bit my nose & made my teeth rattle. I managed to say, “Happy New Year.” Grace replied, “I’m sure yours will be as exciting as mine for each magical day like Christmas gives lessons to help us along life’s incredible journey.”
Between raspy coughs mom asked, “Please bring this gift to amazing Grace.” I gulped down a less flattering epithet & visited our 92-year old neighbor. When I placed a framed print in her veiny hands, Grace immediately shoved it under her sofa.
“Did you look at Mom’s present? It’s by the painter of light.” From Grace’s skeletal features, two blue orbs glared at me. Ricocheting chills caused me to shake in my checkerboard Vans. Her words melted my fears. “Want some hot chocolate & cookies?”
While I enjoyed her yummy treats, a corner of the room filled with enchanting twinkling lights topped with a white winged angel held me spellbound. Grace’s voice chimed, “Even at my age it wouldn’t feel like Christmas without decorating a tree.”
“The picture Mom gave you is famous.”
She nodded. “Why did she give me T. Kinkade’s imitation of Christmas memories? Does she think I’ve forgotten mine? Tucked in my heart are recollections sweet as powdered sugar & prickly as pine needles.”
“Mom thought you’d like the scene.” Grace inhaled deeply. “It’s before my time, but a tragedy brought me to the tiny church.” A tear skimmed her cheek. She blurted, “The first painter of light is renowned J.M.W. Turner. He first exhibited as a teen.”
With sorrow or joy moistening her cheeks, Grace took me by the hand to a miniature Nativity. “This is the season to exult the true Light. He came as a babe to remind us each child of God blessed with abundant gifts has a chance to reflect His love.”
Grace reached down & pulled out the wintry print. “Please give this back to your mom. Apparently, she’s among the many who like it & thank her for giving me the present of your presence. No gift could be greater than to see future’s lovely face.”
Outside the cold wind bit my nose & made my teeth rattle. I managed to say, “Happy New Year.” Grace replied, “I’m sure yours will be as exciting as mine for each magical day like Christmas gives lessons to help us along life’s incredible journey.”
