Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Good early morning

4 AM, I am awake. There is no real light, only the darkness highlighted by the nightlight of multiple droid devices, laying in their docks, charging.

... And there is snoring. Loud, deep, nasal-passage blocked snoring that would cause alarm to any individual unfamiliar to the snore, ultimately leading them to get out of bed out of concern. I, on the other hand, I stay put, unmoved, knowing the truth that it is not me, it is not my husband, it is just my dog.

The darkness and snore, while clear indicators that I perhaps show go back to sleep, my mind slowly gains consciousness and the nights dreams fade into a forgotten memory. A shame if you ask me - to not have the slightest remembrance of a dream within seconds I awake, but I do not brew as I come to full and complete awareness of the time and now, why I have only have one sock on - and suddenly, I am aware of the cold.

Where is my blanket?!?! 

In my sleep, perhaps in a subconscious response to those dreams I am unabel to remember, I had pushed to the foot of the bed the double down comforters. Consequently, my scantily clothed self shook in a natural response of survival to December's bitter chill. I quickly retrieve my blankets and en cave myself in warmth .

sh-sh sh-SHIT!

It is the only word I am able to think of, given my state of cold. I scoot closer to spoon next to the sleeping soul next to me, hopeful that his hulk-like body, which usually emits heat like a 150 degree sauna, would give me warmth.  He stirs and his breathing stops for a moment, but then becomes regular.  His arm finds it's way around me, keeping me locked in place, ensuring that in the case that I would want to roll off the side of the bed in my sleep, I would be unable to do so. It is not long after that the cold feeling felt moments before is gone, making way for content warmth, and sleepiness.

My eyes begin to droop, my thoughts grazing over the most random of things: the beach, Sunday morning trips to Costco, holes, and then...

I hear it. Then I smell it, the unmistakable scent of the fart.

 Fawwk! I say under my breathe, burying my sleeping face in the pillow.

 Was it the dogs? or was it my sleeping husband? or was it me? (it would be unfair to discount me as the culprit. For to discount myself, would be to say with definite faith that i never fart. but I do... so I am not discounting myself). During any other moment of consciousness, the sound  and the smell of passing gas would have caused the cackling of laughter, leading to the pointing of fingers blaming everyone else but oneself. But now? Now, I am too tired to care; my eyes droop back to sleep and I return back to the world of dreams. Tomorrow perhaps, I will remember, and when I do, I will blame it one the dogs..

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Poetry Prompt: Write A Love Letter between two unrelated inanimate objects

A Love Letter from the Sharpee Pen to the Wall Clock. 

They told me I didn’t have a chance,
That you were waiting for a true love
That woould love your every second, every minute,
Every hour of your day.
They told me you were longing
For someone to hold your hands as time ticked away,
Someone to have forever with and share whatever may pass our way.
They discouraged us, warned us
 Saying we’re too different, you and I
That I am just one boring monotonous color,
That you’re always a little late,
And that I wasn't the  one to set you right.
But  I don't care.
With time by my side, I have nothing to fear,
Even if my time should come and I should die
 I swear, for you , my love,
My love will never run dry.
Because baby, I can tell you, when I first saw your face,
Your perfectly round face with its perfect curve numbered all around,
My heart stopped and time stood still,
And right then I knew I wanted to spend my life
Treating you like the timeless piece that you are.
I swear you won’t regret it, nor will you forget it. 
This love is permanent and true, bold and in erasable;
 I’m not going away.
I will be right here.... waiting
Waiting for you to give me the time of day. 

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Poetry Prompt: write a poem that includes the following five words: change, wrap, bottle, bargain, bear

Your sadness, I cannot bear!
Let me wipe your tears
and wrap you in comfort!
If I could, I would
bottle every sorrow,
 tie tightly every anguish, every fear, 
and bargain with the rain
to make the sunshine come again.
In hopes to change that frown to a smile, 
that beautiful, beautiful smile. 

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Prompt: Create a story with one syllable words

Bad Dreams

She had been out on a late night stroll to clear her mind.  Her sixth sense told her a man lurked and watched her.  Who it was and why? she did not know, but she felt the cold prick of the man's leer raise the hairs on the back of her neck.

Her wide eyes kept a look out for who it was that stalked her, her walk was more swift, but the night's lack of light did not help, nor did the lack of sound. She felt fear, and that fear made her heart race. 

She stopped. 

Under the night light on the street not far from where she stood, was the man who watched her dressed in black. He saw that she saw him, could sense her fear, but kept his eyes glued on her while he leaned on the light pole and he smoked. 

Who was he? what did he want? 

She was stuck, not sure of what to do. 

It was then she saw the man dressed in black raise his hand and then.... a loud bang.

There was pain, and then death. 

She woke with a start, her head drenched with sweat, the dream still fresh in her mind. What did it mean? It felt so real!

 She looked to the right to the man who slept next to her

It was just a dream.

Deep in his sleep, she did not want to wake him, but she crept next to him til she felt his warmth and his breathe sigh in and out as he dreamt his dreams. He stirred as she wrapped her arms around him, but he did not wake. Eyes closed and still in REM sleep, he wrapped his arms around her and whispered, I love you.

It was then that she found her calm, and ... sleep found her. But she was not afraid to go back to the dream world, to face what dreams would come. She was safe, safe in the arms of her love.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

PROMPT: You’re a taxi driver in a one-light town......

...You’ve arrived at the county library to pick up your passenger, a girl no older than thirteen. She says, “You see that Mexican restaurant across the street? In about five minutes, a man is going to come out of that restaurant, and I want you to follow him.”

*                                *                                 *                                *                            *                             *                         *

I look at her with a raised brow through my rear view mirror.

"What did this guy do? Steal your lunch money?"

Her expressions changes from a concentrated look, to a sad gaze that meats mine through the mirror. 

I see tears begin to formulate at the corners of her eyes. Me and my stupid mouth

"Look kid," I try to say as sensitively as possible. "Okay, bad joke. Don't cry, we'll wait... we'll wait. Just know my meter's running."

She looks down and mutters what I think is a 'Thank you'

For a moment, there is silence between us as the radio plays in the background.

I turn the radio down and try to begin idle talk with the girl to lighten the mood.

"So how's you're day going?"

Her eyes thwart in my direction, but remains silent.

"You don't look like you're from around here, are you. Dressed a little too warm for this warm weather.

Even more silence.


I resolve to shut up and not knowing what else to do, I reach out to turn the radio dial back on

"There!" She suddenly (finally) speaks. "Follow him!"

I look up and out of the restaurant comes a man in his mid 40's, dressed in a short sleeve blue plaid shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots. His aviator sunglasses and ranchero hat shade the sun from his face.  What the young lady would want with someone like him, I had no idea. I didn't think she would answer me even if I did ask.

The ranchero would-be drug smuggler gets into his '89 Toyota Corolla and drives off. I follow him a good distance behind, careful not to arouse suspicion and we drive a good twenty minutes outside of town to a newly developed suburban community called The Silverado.

He parks in front of a three car garage with three small children playing with the sprinkler in front of lusciously green yard. As he comes out of his car, the children run towards him.

"Papa!"  they exclaim in excitement. "Papa's home"

The man with ranchero hat lights up as he sees his children. He gets out of his car and embraces their embrace.

I look at the girl sitting in the back seat. She is hunched down, as if not wanting to be seen.  Her eyes peak above the window and are glued to the man and his family. Tears are falling like waterfalls down her face. I look back to the family she is watching, and back at her.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Papa," she responds. "Papa."

She buries her head in her hands and begins to cry.

"Don't cry kid," I try to comfort her. "Look, I don't who that guy is or what the deal is, but you don't need to cry."

She continues to cry, seemingly unaware that I had said anything. 

After what seemed like forever, she looks up, her eyes red, puffed, and full of sadness. 

"Can you take me back to the library?", she asks with a sniffle.

I nod and start the car.  Driving back to the library, there is silence. The little girl, sullen in her sadness. Me, unknowing what to do or say, having thoughts filled over what could make this girl so sad.

We reach the library.

"Okay kid, you going to be okay?" I ask.

She nods and hands me a twenty. I look over to the meter and see the total of $35.45.

"No, keep it kid." I say.

She stares at the twenty for a long, hard second,

"Thank you," she says in a sad whisper.

Putting the twenty in her pocket, she opens the cab door and exits. I watch her as she walks away, head down, probably sulking in her tears. She walks, not towards the library, but along side Main Street. She stops at the stop sign, waiting to cross.

I drive the cab and pull up next to her

"Hey kid!" I yell.

She looks up.

"Where you going? I'll give you a lift, free of charge"

"Dallas," she replies.

Dallas, Texas!?! That was over 200 miles away! How did she get here?

"Get in," I say.

There is a bit of hesitancy in her face, but she gets in, and we drive off. To Dallas.