My Fellow Man

(Forty-five, Anteater, Karma)

I walked into the hospital room they put my son in. I was tired, kind of in shock. It was a semi-private room, holding a bathroom and two beds, separated by floor to ceiling curtains that could be drawn back. My son Donald was in the bed by the door. His appendix had burst. None of us had recognized the symptoms and by the time we realized there was something seriously wrong my husband Bill had to call an ambulance.  Bill would come in the car, as soon as he got my sister to sit with our six-year old daughter.

Supernova Part 4

Jim Rivers, a navigator, now finds himself leading the crew of the Valiant Explorer.  He has awakened everyone on board and held a conference with all the section leaders to detail the situation – their ship veered off course and has brought them into a strange solar system that is going supernova – in 3 days.  They cannot outrun it.  While everyone is shocked, a few voices of reason prevail – giving the team a possible plan to survive the explosion. 

They have decided to salvage usable parts from the ship and forge enough trinite to seal the connection points between as many modules as possible, in effect creating one very long spacecraft.   A memorial service was given for the captain and his first in command who died when a fire damaged their pods.

See the link at the top of the page for the full Supernova story. 

2 Poems

To See the Sea Again

I’ll see the big old trees again

and walk along the sand.

I’ll smell the fresh sea breeze

and then,

I’ll be walking hand in hand

with the hopes and dreams

I’ve had for years,

all the laughter,

all the tears.

At last,

at last the time has come,

when land and sea and dreams

are one.

——————-

The Snow

The snow is falling.

Each flake

individual, unlike

another.  The

snowflake brings a

thought, and a storm

of memories lands on

my head and in my eyes.

Good winters, bad.

Snow castles, icy trees.

Remember.  The smell

of a wood stove.   The

Black-Capped Chickadees

eating out of our hands.

One day I would return,

to New Hampshire

to stay.

Cheesy Party Bread

(Garnish, Wise, Politics)

Dear Dorothy, December 1, 1948

I was glad to get your letter in the post. It was forwarded to us by the state department. You will notice that the return post on mine is Paris, France. Yes, my dear Paul has been stationed here for four years, four years! I shall love every minute of it, do you hear? Paris!

“And They Call It, Puppy Love”

Bojangles, Vineyard, Jackalope

Carl and Martha Dubois were sitting on the porch one summer morning.  Eighty year old Martha was doing a crossword puzzle from the paper, eighty-one year old Carl was reading the sports section.

“Carl.”  She had a distinct northern accent, and sounded a lot like Katharine Hepburn in “On Golden Pond.”
“Hmm?” He absently waved at a fly.

Pet Shop in the Mall

Indonesia, Javanese, Woman

(Another one for the kids)

Berani slowly opened her eyes.  Someone was crawling over her, sticking their legs into her belly and sliding down her back.  She rolled away and rubbed her face, hiding her eyes.  She could smell wood shavings; it was a smell she always associated with hamsters and gerbils.  They were like captive mice to her, always behind glass and inaccessible.  Not the same smell as the rats that roamed the floors and shelves at night.  They were dark, furtive things that darted around the floor looking for food.  The ones that lived in the walls and floors.  She would like to run and chase and catch them!  It was a vague thought, sleepy-headed and unfulfilled.

Bound and Determined

Persnickety, Tribal, Melancholic
The characters in this story are fictional, as are the portrayals of any people, groups or chiefs.  This is only a parody and no offense is intended or should be taken.  

The elders sat around the fire, each of them squirming uncomfortably.  The Chief had served dinner to the council earlier; it consisted mainly of meat and a starchy root sauce.  It was winter and there weren’t a lot of plants around for them to eat; no fruits or berries for fiber.  While it did smell wonderful (hence the large turnout for tonight’s meeting) it did tend to leave a fellow a little… bound up so to speak.

Eyeball Soup Anyone?

Doll, stars, blind

Carmine was casing the house he planned to hit next.  It might sound cliché but it was necessary if you intended to do a job and get away clean.  So far everything he had seen pointed to an incredibly easy robbery.  The woman who lived here (alone no less) was blind.  Cut the phone lines and it couldn’t get any easier than this.  She would have no way to call for help.  This was going to be obnoxiously easy and if there’s anything Carmine liked, it was a smooth job.  He had done his homework.  

Looking Back

Birds, Waffles, Shenanigans

She sits at the kitchen table, almost nine o’clock at night, listening to her 16 yr. old daughter and her boyfriend giggle while they wrestle in the other room. The bedroom door is open, they are just playing, and she could hear them talking and laughing all the while. No shenanigans are being attempted tonight. Just two kids having fun with each other. The television is off, no music either. Just two kids. It makes her remember what it was like, that young love.

A time when you just couldn’t think past when you would get to see him again; how you worried endlessly about your breath for when he wanted to kiss you and just – the possibilities of life.   There was so much to be discovered yet, so you talked for hours on end, about every subject under the sun.   Everything he said made sense and everything you did felt like magic.

She remembered his favorite dinner, enchiladas.  She liked to eat breakfast for supper, and waffles were her favorite breakfast food.   After they married they made enchiladas every Friday night and waffles every Saturday evening.   He would cook up a little extra batter and then the next morning they fed the leftovers to the birds out in the parking lot.   They talked about everything, notable exceptions were politics (she mainly listened) and religion (he didn’t believe in God; she had been too young and stupid to challenge him on that).

She recalled nights under the stars, out on the plastic lounge chairs by the pool at their apartment complex.   It was always so cool to lay there looking up as he tried to show her the constellations.   She never could see a thing, although she always said she did.  To this day the big and little dippers were all she had ever found.   Later he would tell her that she had tunnel vision, and she would respond that he had selective memory and hearing.   They said a lot of things to each other “later.”   But in the early moments, the things they said sounded more like lovely music.   Their words were epic, every day was filled with hugs and their hearts beat as fast as hummingbirds’ wings…back when they were kids.

It’s getting pretty quiet back there.   I’d better go sit in the living room and play with the dog for a few minutes, she thought.  Get closer to her bedroom just like my Mom used to, and make some noise.

“You kids want some popcorn?”

The Great Inditionater

Antidisestablishmentarianism, hemorrhage, phlebotomy

Bam!  Whizzle whizz splat!  Keen heard the noises and saw the great machine shake and shudder.  Broken pieces came out on the conveyor belt. He scooped them all up and threw them into the recycle bin.  Unfinished pieces could be tossed out, but completed works would have to be kept whether they made sense or not.  Keen had to do something, tell someone fast!  He ran to the telephone to call maintenance.