Telling Tales

A pale full moon floated in the night sky.

“You first.”  Jack whispered to Billy while they huddled next to the wrought iron gate.  “It was your idea.”

Both boys had grown up hearing stories about the Hamilton town cemetery. Tonight, unable to resist any longer, they decided to find out the truth.

Billy nodded and with Jack following approached the gate.  He opened it.  Their shoes crunched on the gravel road as they walked toward the mausoleum in the center.

Suddenly their fathers jumped out from behind a tree.

“Got ya.”  They shouted as the boys screamed in fright.

The second month of the year is drawing to a close and I have finally found the time to sit down and put together my goals for the year.  Some of them I have been working on already so I don’t feel as if I am too far behind in writing them down now instead of at the beginning of the year.

It is a combined list of work, personal, and interpersonal goals.  I don’t see any reason to create separate lists for each area of my life since life is an interwoven mosaic of all the different aspects and connections we experience.

I came up with a total of eleven goals.  Some are definitive, such as run a 10k, some are introspective and some are affirmations of my personal values.

All of them combined are part of my answer to the question – How do I want to live? 

The single most important question we can ask ourselves as we navigate the plethora of choices offered us in today’s modern world.

Summer Storm

A severe wind blew across the yard, sending the treetops to swaying.  The wind chime hanging from the eaves danced and jangled.  On the deck, the open patio umbrella lifted up threatening to fly away.

“Help me get this down.”  Lisa shouted to her husband Tom.

He stepped out onto the deck to lead her a hand.  They folded the umbrella down and wrestled it out its stand laying it down next to the house.  Chair cushions were removed and placed in the storage chest.

Together, they dashed inside laughing just before the first raindrops fell from the dark sky. 

Determination

One step at a time. 

Just keep moving, one foot in front of the other. 

First one, then the other.

The thoughts looped though her mind, keeping her going, keeping her focused.  She pulled air into her lungs, feeling the sweat along her hairline and down her back.  Her legs ached with fatigue.  Her throat felt dry.  Her heart pounded in rhythm with her feet.

She caught a familiar face in the crowd lining the roadway, smiling and shouting encouragement.

“You can do it.”

She felt new life flowing though her and nodded, yes she would finish her first marathon.

Patience

A sharp wind blew across the yard sweeping dry leaves onto the patio.  They swirled around in a crazy dance over the paving stones before coming to rest at the base of wall.  Inside the house, seated in front of the patio door, a black cat watched the whirling signs of fall.

A lonely sparrow swooped down to the bird feeder at the edge of the patio.  It ruffled its feathers before settling down to peck at the seeds.  Inside, eyes intent on the bird, watching with the patience of a hunter, the cat waited for the door to open.

Super Hero

Cozy and content, the couple snuggled together on the sofa, the only light coming from the television.  In the dim glow she rested her head against his chest, resting from the long week.  He held her close feeling all his tension drain away.

The sharp ring of the phone startled them.  She sat up, looked at the caller ID and frowned.  It was her sister.

“Come quick.  The horses got out.”

“Be right there.”  She said hanging up.  “Got to go.  The horses are out.”

“My wife to the rescue.”  He said kissing her and sending her on her way.

Lunch Date

Lost in thought she didn’t notice the waiter come up to the table.

“Will there be anything else?”  The young man asked.

Carla shifted her attention away from the busy street.  The noise of other dinners seated at the outdoor café washed over her.

“No, thank you.  I’m good.”  She said, waving him away.

She looked down at her empty plate not remembering eating.  Ben should have been here by now, she thought.  It wasn’t that far from his office and she would have to go back to work soon.

“Sorry, I’m late.”  Ben said sitting down next to her. 

A Simpler Time

Kent hit the tree again with his axe sending chips of wood flying.  He worked with a rhythm and steadiness of long experience.  Soon winter would descend on the valley covering everything with white.

He smiled thinking about how much the community had achieved.  A group of twenty families had climbed the pass and entered the lush valley ten years ago seeking a haven, a place they could let go of the trappings of the modern world and return to a simpler time, a harder time.  All had stayed to work the land creating a place of peace and beauty.

Confinement

Rage!

Hot, burning rage!  How on earth did they expect him to react?  They confined him and left him to die a slow painful death in a metal shed in the desert.  No water, no food.  The air alone grew hot enough during the day to burn his lungs with each indrawn breath.

The night brought new agonies to sap his strength.  Cold seeped in under the door setting him to shiver uncontrollably.  He held onto the thought of vengeance, nursing it, fueling it.  When they returned he lashed out demanding his freedom from the confines of the psych ward.

I am often amazed at where my stories lead me.  As I was contemplating different ideas to write about today, the image of a little girl holding a cherished toy came to mind and I jotted down the first line without any context in mind, just the image. From there the rest of the story evolved without any real thought of what it would be about or where it was headed, to my surprise today's story headed to the dentist.

You wouldn't think the dentist office would be material for a story, but a child's first visit is full of trepidation and uncertainty, the strangeness of the place with its different smells, the business feel to the waiting room, the muted, hushed tones of voices, and the assortments of instruments and devices in the examination room.  It takes a certain amount of patient for parent and doctor to settle a small child and let them look at their teeth along with a certain amount of willingness on the young patient's part.

First Visit

The little girl clung to the worn teddy bear.  Her tiny hand lost in her mother’s grip.  This was Cindy’s first visit to the dentist and she wasn’t certain she liked it.  The smells in the waiting room were antiseptic, mingling with the faint scent of roses from the bouquet on the desk.

“Is this Cindy?”  The hygienist said with a friendly smile.

Cindy buried her face against her mother’s leg.  She didn’t like this at all!

“I’ll go first.”  Her mom said sitting down on the couch.  Together the dentist and her mom showed her how teeth were examined.

Onward

Music drifted down Main Street.  People lining both sides craned their heads to see, some even rose up on tiptoe trying to catch a glimpse.  A shout, a thunderous applause swelled with the growing sound of pounding drums.  Down the street they came marching in unison, keeping rhythm, instruments at the ready.

A whistle, a raised baton, a flourish and the local high school marching band launched into the school song eliciting cheers from the townspeople.  Unexpectedly a dog leaped out into the street, barking at the drum major.  Without flinching the young leader continued forward leading the musicians onward.

Parental Love

She walked along the side of the road not paying attention to the passing vehicles.  Occasionally she scuffed the gravel sending small rocks tumbling into the grass.

“Its not fair.”  She muttered, tears welling up in her eyes.

Two days ago her father was hauled away in an ambulance.  It was his heart she was told.  Everything that could be done was done, but it wasn’t enough.

Now she was on her own at sixteen.  Or was she?  She felt a presence and looked up.  Standing beside her was her parents.  They embraced her.  She would never really be alone.

Addiction

The rich aroma of coffee permeated the room.  Conversation was muted and sparse.  The half dozen mid-morning patrons were at peace perusing various electronic devises when the customer at the counter slammed his hand down.

“This is ridiculous!”  He said in a raised voice.

The quiet room became quieter as everyone turned to look.

“I’ve been stopping here every day since you opened.  I get the same thing, every day.  Now you tell me its unavailable.  What kind of coffee shop is this anyway?”

“Sir, we can still make it for you.  It’s just not listed on the menu anymore.”

I needed a little extra inspiration today, so I went to the best source, the lively antics of my granddaughters.  It seems they have a penchant for jumping and we are forever reminding them not to jump on the living room furniture, not to jump on the bed...

If only there was a way to harness all that energy!

Overnight Stay

Jump!  Jump!  Jump!  Giggle!

The sounds coming from behind the closed door gained the attention of the older couple sitting in the living room.  The two looked at each other.

“What’s going on in there?”  Grandpa growled.

“I’ll go find out.”

Grandma got up off the couch and headed down the hallway toward the spare bedroom where her two granddaughters were suppose to be sleeping.  She opened the door sending two children scrambling to get under the covers amidst a burst of laughter.

“Hey. No jumping on the bed.”  Grandma said in mock anger.

“Read us another story.”  They chimed. 

When I look at my dog lying in the house he looks white as snow.  When he is outside in the snow I realize he isn't.

The Phone Number

The scrawled writing caught her attention.  Partly because it was so unusual in her hotel lobby’s pristine restroom and partly because it was just a phone number with the word call written in gold marker.  She contacted housekeeping to have it removed.

Upon checking the restroom the next day she found the number was back with the words CALL NOW.  Exasperated she dialed the number.

“Time to come home.”

A radiant light formed around her.  The memory of the bus accident on the way to work flooded her mind.  She released her hold on the physical world and faded away.  

There are days when everything seems in focus.  It is on those days my writing comes easier and seems more reflective of what I am feeling and even a bit odd.  Today didn't start out that way, I woke up feeling rested and looking forward to going out with my husband tonight, but the story I ended up writing for my blog flowed from one word to the next, needing almost no editing.  It came from some place inside without much effort.  The first one in awhile that hasn't required an extended session of adding, subtracting or rearranging of words to produce a finished story of the right length.  A story that resonates with me on a level below my consciousness producing a feeling of something pending, something on the horizon, unseen.  Is this truly a sense of change coming or am I simply unwinding from the events of the last couple of weeks and changes brought by traveling to places I haven't been to before and the new addition to the family?

What I do know is the act of reading and writing, whether it's journaling or creative fiction, allows a person to release and explore their thoughts and feelings, providing them with insight and grounding them in a way that makes coping with the abrupt, unexpected shifts in life easier.

Accepting Change

Dark brooding clouds hung low over the horizon.  A wayward breeze lifted the banner unfurling it to stream out from the flagpole before finding its way across the yard.  The touch of cool air sent a shiver up her arms causing her to look up from the garden she was kneeling in.

The morning had been sunny and she had spent it outside working among the plants she loved, weeding and tilling, tidying up.  Now it seemed the weather had turned.  She sighed not ready to go back inside the keep and the chaos brought about by the King’s announcement.  

Letting Go

Friday night and the family of four had just sat down to dinner.  The doorbell rang.  Beth, the sixteen year old, got up to answer the door.

“It’s probably Jane.  She was going to stop by.”  Beth said as she left the room.

She soon reappeared, along with a dark haired teenage girl dressed in black.

“Jane wants me to go a movie with her.  I’ll be home by midnight.”

“Now?  You haven’t eaten.”

“We’ll get something at the theater.”

The parents exchanged looks.  Beth had few friends.  What harm could there be in going to a movie?  They nodded.  

Friendship

Usually her day began with a gradual awakening in the quiet of her bedroom, but this morning, before the sun had made its appearance, the jarring ring of her phone had roused her, sending her scrambling to answer, her heart pounding as images of all the disastrous things that could happen to the people she loved flashed through her mind.

On the phone the calm voice of her friend had reassured her all was well.  Then with a laugh her companion in many a youthful escapade had asked for help in getting her car out of a snow filled ditch. 

Monster In The Dark

When I was a child I camped out in the back yard with my best friend.  Huddled in our sleeping bags with flashlights shinning we would share our deepest secrets.  Outside our cozy shelter we could hear the night breeze rustling in the trees, insects calling to each other and the soft, scurrying of nighttime animals.

We teased each other with stories of ghosts, goblins and monsters until the slightest scratch on the tent sent us diving inside our bags imagining the worst.

Without warning the tent flap flew open revealing our monster of the dark – my older brother.

The last week and a half has been a real roller coaster ride.  On Saturday, February 2nd as my husband and I were winding up a long needed vacation and I was was feeling good about being able to post my daily story despite being out at sea for a week I received a text message from our son.  His wife had gone into labor six weeks early and had to have an emergency c-section.

I am happy to say mother and child are doing very well.

I on the other hand am still coming down from the heightened stress of changing our travel plans to get home sooner, spending the last week at the hospital supporting my son and daughter-in-law and helping them out the first couple of days home with a new baby.  

My new grandchild is an incredibly beautiful baby, barely six pounds and just a little peanut.  A welcomed addition to our growing family.

Survival

Once again Beth lifted her head from the dust.  A groan escaped her lips as she placed her palms on the dry, sandy surface in an attempt to lift herself enough to crawl forward.  It had seemed like a good idea, going along with Harold on a trek across Death Valley.

One misstep in a backcountry canyon sent the two of them tumbling down a rocky slope.  Harold did not survive the fall leaving Beth struggling with two broken legs.

The glare of the sun blinded her.  She thought she was done when she heard the sound of helicopter overhead.

Family Business

Tired and exhausted he wrapped himself into a blue and white comforter and collapsed on the bed.  The day had been excruciatingly long.  His business partner had not shown up for work, leaving him to cover the counter, answer the phone and try to work on the current vehicle in the shop for repairs in between.  Short staffed and busy was not his idea of fun.  By the time he closed up he was ready to call Jake up, tell him off and fire him.  

The problem was, Jake was not only his partner in business he was his brother.

Gardening

She stretched.  Arms overhead and back arched she sought to relive the stiffness.  For several hours she had crouched among the plants pulling weeds and tidying up her garden. 

Her daughters had encouraged her to make the garden smaller to reduce the workload.  They had talked to her about getting some of the neighbor kids to help so she wouldn’t have to do all the hard work. 

Each time she would smile at them, nod her head and after they left go out into yard and pick up where she left off the day before, lovingly caring for her plants.

I wasn't sure I was going to get this one written today.  I had a long day and came home tired and just wanted to go to bed.  My husband kindly made dinner and after a brief nap I found the will to log in.  I am becoming a firm believer in the power of napping.  It seems a lot of the frustrations in life melt away in the blissful peace of lounging on the sofa.  Here's to napping!  Cheers!

In The Mist

The mist seeping upward from the swampy ground sent tendrils of vaporous smoke toward the roadway.  Headlights creating twin beams of haze in the patches of fog advanced along the roadway.  The driver, hunched over the wheel, sought to find his way.

He had left the party after confronting another guest.  Unfamiliar with the roads around the country home of his host he became disoriented.

The appearance of a hulking shape brought his car to a halt.  His heart pounding he peered into the night, sighing with relief as he recognized his host standing near the end of his driveway.

Left Alone

“I can’t believe it!”

“What can’t you believe?”

“This!  What the hell happened?”

Maggie strained to look around her husband.  He had come to a halt in the middle of stepping over the threshold into their front entryway.  She could see drifts of white toilet paper streaming across the tile floor, leading into the living room.  She pushed past him, letting him shut the door while she moved into the house. 

The culprits, a pair of Siamese cats sat cleaning their faces in the middle of what looked like several rolls of shredded tissue.

“Oh my, bad kitties.”  She said.

Volcanic Emission

From deep beneath the crust it seeped upwards, slipping into crevasses, joining together into rivers of searing heat ever seeking a way to advance.  For thousands of years it waited, buried beneath rocks and soil, smothered by unbearable pressure, sending its tendrils forth.

The ground shook with the fury of breaking free; streams of molten rocks were flung outward lighting up the sky.  A fierce breath of wind rushed down the hillside leveling everything it touched.

A roar of freedom heralded the arrival of magma as it burst over the rim of the volcano, escaping the grip of the earth.

At The Rink

She trudged through the snow outside the warming house, her skates laced tight and double knotted by her mom inside the shed.  Ahead of her both of her brothers stepped from the piled snow surrounding the ice skating rink onto the ice, gliding away with hockey sticks in hand.  Back and forth they passed a puck, moving toward the net on the far side where the younger one smacked the puck at the net.

At four years old, determined to keep up, she arrived at the edge of the ice with a gleeful shout and skated off after the boys.

This last week I had to work at meeting my commitment to posting a story every day.  We were on vacation, out of town and not always in easy access of the Internet.  It meant writing without having a lot of time to put much thought into a story and then posting it as quickly as I could to keep the cost down along with making sure I successfully posted while I was connected.

At this time I feel a sense of satisfaction that I did it and yet I feel a sense of, do I really want to finish this?  There is only thirty-nine more days to go, but I am burnt out.  Ideas are getting harder to come by and well, frankly, I not sure very many of these stories are very good.  Artist's remorse?  Is there such a thing?

Since I started this blog I haven't gone back and re-read anything I have written so I can't say if I would like any of it the second time around or would do a head slap, asking myself, what were you thinking?  I suspect I would like some of it and some of it I would want to re-write or crumple up and toss away, taking away from the experience of meeting deadlines and daily creative effort a sense of personal growth and commitment in my writing.

Dear Baby Girl

Dear Baby Girl,

You were born while I was away, a happy bundle making an unexpected entry into the world, worrying your first time parents with all the medical craziness of an emergency C-section.  A day and a night and an exhausted happy dad sent me pictures through the miracle of technology.  I feel I am getting to know you and can’t wait to meet you.

Your dad and mom have taken that irreversible step into parenthood with your arrival and the wonder in their voices tell me of their love for you and the joy of you.

Love, Grandmother

The Show On The Last Night

Twirling, soaring, leaping, the acrobats perform gravity defying moves as they tumble and dance across the stage.

It’s the last night of a seven day cruise.  The packed theater is alive with sound from the orchestra accompanying the performer filling the space with her soaring voice.  Cheers erupt from an audience lost in amazement of the performance.

High above a pair of aerial artists are lowered into view, hands entwined in thick ropes.  Together they balance extending arms and legs seeming to hang suspended without support.

An incredible show and the passengers leave ready to say farewell to their voyage.

Breakfast On Board

Surrounded by a crowd she stood alone in the dining room.  Her travel companions were still in bed sleeping off the excesses of the night before.  

They had gone to the night clubs on board the cruise ship, dancing and drinking until the wee hours of the night, waking her up with lights and laughter.  Her headache having faded with sleep she greeted them with false moans and pulled her pillow over her head.

When a growling stomach insisted on her finding breakfast, she slipped out without disturbing their slumber and joined the throng of fellow passengers at the buffet.