Thursday, March 31, 2011

Postage Due

I usually see everything; even from the little bumble bee that helps me deliver the mail.  I see things I'm not supposed to.


Vrrrrooooom. Wheeeeeat. I go and stop; buzzing along watching lives twist and turn more than the roads I drive.  People think I just cram letters into little boxes but that couldn't be further from the truth.


Vrrooom. Wheeeat. 


Mrs. Moorman gets her Reader's Digest (It's going out of print so get em while they're hot!) and another notice (a FINAL one) about her overdue credit card.  Shame. Because I have another package from QVC for her; more pajama jeans.  LORD~ someone needs to realize one size does NOT fit all. She waves excitedly and scampers out to tell me what's in the box.  She clucks over the envelope and hustles back in.  Diamonique jewelry is buy three get one half off at 11:30 this morning...gotta move. She has tried to buy her happiness since her husband OD'd.  Poor soul.


Vrroom. Wheeeat.


Mr. Huff's.  He's gay according to the magazines that hide beneath the plain brown wrapper.  He pulls the shades back and watches suspiciously.  His dog hops up and down at the window sill.  I hate that dog.  It bit me once and so I maced it.  He tried to sue me, but he lost so now he has this worry that I'm (and everyone else in the neighborhood) out to get his dog.  Stupid thing.  It's one of those little fake dogs that usually just shakes and pees but there must be something about me and the bumble bee because man oh MAN can it run. Mr Huff just stands there and claps like a sissy..."SSSTOP Beebee! Come to Daddy..."


Vrrooom. Wheeeat.


I get to the Dullams.


 Shirley used to come out and give me the scoop on everyone.  I haven't seen her in days.  She's a beautiful lady, flirting with me sometimes and I lap it up like a kitten with milk.  Her laugh is infectious, her smile, beautiful. I'd love to love her.  Sometimes when I'm finished with work, I go and watch her live her life.  Mine is pretty dull except for the building going up behind my house.  I can only watch so many diggers in a day. But she waves to me, smiles, even brings dinner down.  "My guardian Angel?" she usually teases. She's unhappy though. Her husband is some big construction contractor in the city.  He is rumored to be less than honest.  Her husband is mean too and I know this because I hear him shouting awful things at her and some days I hear her cry.  On those days, she doesn't come down to see me.  Instead, I see her close her window shades to shut out the pain; or maybe keep it in.  She's a strong lady.  I've been missing her company both on the clock and off.


I thought it was odd he was cleaning out the garage late one night and shortly after that began to have lady friends over; sick actually.  Poor Shirley, she went away and he lived it up. She just wanted to be a good wife. She tried so hard and loved him so much. Her thanks was a bunch of floozies while she was out of town and fists when she was home? Oh and he watched me like a hawk.  I don't know why, because I never laid a hand oh his wonderful wife; certainly  not like he did. Sure I thought about what it'd be like to hold her and soothe the tears but I never did. I loved her from my bumble bee. I guess he just couldn't stand someone being nice to that pretty lady.  I didn't like him and so I didn't believe it when he told me she had gone to visit her mother.  Shirley's mother was dead.  She told me so herself.


I sat there in the bumble bee with a box; perishable. I sighed heavily. I couldn't leave it so I had to go to the door.  I rang the bell and knocked.  He pulled the curtain away to stare at me.  I felt cold inside.  My heart was pounding and my knees were weak.  He glared as I knocked again.  No answer.  I hollered for him, shouted for him even.
"C'mon Buddy! This is for you! Come and get it. I see you in there!"


 He stood stone still, grinned like he was the cat that ate the canary finally stepping away.  He never came to the door. and  I couldn't leave the box.  It was perishable, so I took it home and put it in my freezer.  I could always stop back later; just to check up on her. Maybe she was home now.  I didn't see any lady friends.


I sat down to dinner and ho hummed over my hungry man tin foil plate.  Hungry man. blech. I missed Shirley's meatloaf. I was seeing her face and hearing her laugh when I was shocked by an angry knock at my door.  The police were talking loudly and demanding to come in.   I wiped my hands and ushered them quickly inside.  Geez! What would the neighbors think?


They asked me about Shirley.  Boy was I glad.  I began to tell them what I suspected and how I had been watching out for her.  One of the cops asked if he could get a cup of water.  I told him to go ahead to the kitchen.  I continued to spew my story to the second officer.  I asked them to check on her because she hadn't been around, ya know?


Well the first one dropped his cup on the floor and hollered for the second.  Next thing I knew, there were guns drawn and the two guys were shouting at me to get my hands up where they could see them.  I din't understand until they push walked me into the kitchen.  The box,


It was on the table and open.  I threw up.  Shirley's hand and forearm were mangled and stuffed inside. I swiped my mouth and began to talk faster.  I told them about the husband and the ladies. I told em I watched Shirley at night and she hadnt' been around...  They were cuffing me and yelling some more; for back up? I don't know.  They raced me out to the car and as I was crammed into the back seat I saw her husband standing on the edge of my lawn.  He waved to me.  Then he whistled to the crew in the back of my yard and gave them the thumbs up. They stopped digging.  More police came and looked like army ants all over my yard; and behind. I saw them pull up a mannequin in Shirley's clothes.  It looked awful.


I think I'm in trouble.



i don't know about this one.  I think I may pull it and rework it.  I like the idea and the story but I wonder if needs flesh; too choppy in the thought process of the character.  Hmmm Well, it's here for now and I hope you get some enjoyment out of it while I mull it over.

I will sit and chat more soon.  Thank you for coming over. I've missed you.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Okay,
I'm travelling home and so I need a couple of days to recoup, regroup and get pictures ready.  Wow is all I can say.

Stay with me...it's gonna be good.
:)

Monday, March 28, 2011

WPS

Bruno...
I'm liking Bruno. My son turned me on to him.  This one is good because of the thump.  So let's thump guys.  I'll be home soon and I'll have lots to show and tell.

Be good.

Grenade-Bruno Mars With Lyrics

Friday, March 25, 2011

Evidence

We were sitting around the dinner table and sometimes I tell the kids snippets from my childhood.  We were talking about bullying and fighting and I had to relate this story. 

When I was in Kindergarten I was very shy and rarely spoke. Recess was my saving grace; to be outside and in the dirt was Eden to me. (I even developed a habbit of eating cupcake papers during birthdays and parties so I could get out faster.  Proud? No.  But I confess that there was so much crumbly goodness on those bad boys that it was like a whole 'nuther MUFFIN! Seconds without asking?! Wee HOO!) Anyway,  I sat in the same seat, I played with the same toys and I never bothered a soul.  The same could not be said for my nemesis.  Her name doesn't matter anymore though I remember it; nor does her boy haircut that her mother INSISTED on cramming with tiny bow barretts.  They looked stupid.  She took every toy I used, she wrinkled every paper that had to be passed back to me.  I never said a word (something I still do sometimes even today much to my chagrin and others' benefit but I digress) until the play stations.

Now we had very busy play stations; one was filled with blocks as big as our heads (and they were the SMALL ones; which we of course used to build stockades), there was the art station which contained paste for those of you who loved the little pirate barrel with the spoon (not that I would know...it wasn't my favorite station) and a car station and the BEST one? The Doll Station.  Oh yes.  It had dolls, clothes, a baby buggy and even an ironing board complete with iron which somehow had live wires. Missed a wrinkle on the yoke of your shirt? zzzzAAAP ~! only once girlfriend. So now you know this was my favorite station.  But my nemesis loved to take the last spot or throw such a tantrum that I always had to move. *sigh* I did it.  I was the peacemaker but I despised her for it.  She always popped this sick sweet grin that sang "Nah nee nah nee booooo booooo...."

Well, it was during the Christmas party.  All the girls were dressed up.  My dress was white with a long tafeta black and white plaid skirt.  I looked like a taxi with curly white hair.  My non friend?  Well she wore a crushed velvet hunter green dress with the Christmas candy stripes in it.  And one of those stupid bows.  What a dork.

It was bad enough that she ripped my paper as it came back.  Then she took my cupcake when Mrs. Bowdecker wasn't looking.  I managed to snag a "second" first and that just made her angrier. 

"Time for play stations!" my teacher said sweetly.  I got up out of my seat and RACED to the baby dolls.  She was right behind me.  She pinched my arm and pulled my hair but I got it. I WON~ Triumphant and truly overcome with the joy of the season and the fact that I was playing with the dolls I turned to brag to her. 

"WHACK"  She flipped one of the old shirts in the ironing pile and a button caught my cheek.
 I reared back seeing tiny dark stars and she took the buggy full of dolls.  I stood there feeling my face throb as she sweetly hustled over to the teacher to show what a good little mommy she was.  I was boiling over.  I quietly settled in to ironing and playing house.  I did not notice the sting from the wires.  I was extremely focused on seeing her face on the sleeve.  Boy was it smooth.  But I was content to at least be at my favorite station. This was not acceptable to my non friend.  She waited until Mrs. Bowdecker was helping to release Brian from the  prison that Maria had built around him before he wet his pants and proceed to pinch me again until I let go and then stuffed all my ironing and toys in the buggy and strolled off.  I walked over and took the iron and baby clothes; my teeth grinding loudly.  She drove the buggy over my shoes and up my shins.  Both had skinny tire marks on them.

It was over and I had had enough.  I yanked the buggy away from the space between us; feeling much like Lou Ferigno in a Hulk moment and I shoved her with all the strength a five year old contained (continuing on that line of though: "Don't make me angry.  You wouldn't like me when I'm angry...) I pushed her back and over a stack of chairs. She sommersaulted and the next thingx I saw were her white tights and black patent leather MaryJane shoes stuck clumsily up in the air, her skirt over her head and that stupid barret on the floor.  Brian was giggling and pointing because we all discovered that Lil Miss Bully Bitch was wearing "Saftey pants".

Of course she sat up, wailed and said that I had bit her and tried to eat the babies in the buggy. Naturally that wasn't true...it wasn't full moon.  I never change OR eat babies without a full moon. ;)  Well, I was pulled from recess and that witch took the baby dolls outside in the buggy; laughing and pointing at me.  I had to write "I will be nice." about one hundred times.  *sigh*

But when my class came in from recess, she laid a piece of paper across my desk.

I HATE YOU 

I tucked it in my mouth and chewed slowly, grinning menacingly as she stared at me. The look on my face was meant to read: "You're next."

"Mrs. Bowdecker!!!!! " she squealed.

"What NOW?" my teacher had had enough too I realized.

"She hit me."

My teacher glared at me.  I shook my head and cheeked the paper.
"See wote a bah note" I choked over wood pulp and graphite.

"DID NOT!" and the panic began to crawl across her face like freckles.

I smiled once more and coughed up the evidence.

She lost recess for TWO days.  The baby dolls were very happy to see me.



My kids loved it.  I don't know why....
Thanks for coming over.  I hope you smiled. Funny how you remember your long agoes, isn't it?

Saturday, March 19, 2011

The Castle

A small car arrived.  A man and a woman got out. She smiled as he opened the door for her and ushered to toward me.  I stood tall and proud.  I was a castle. I felt them fall in love with me and heard their giggly words as they gushed I was perfect.  They disappeared and came back with jingly keys. We became a family.

When we started out, you know how love is when it's new; passionate~ about everything.  Great care is take to keep everything perfect, pollished and neat. We came together well.  I was strong and sheltered them.  They painted me, gave me new clothes and filled my soul with laughter and love.  Man cared for Woman.  They loved each other very much. Man treasured her, giving her flowers and she would laugh and kiss him.  There were nights they made me blush and quiver in my foundation. Whew! Thank heavens my lights were out.

It wasn't all wine and roses though.  We struggled for a while.  There were times when Man and Woman didn't have any money so I had to go without.  I understood. I didn't mind that my hat was crooked and needed replacing or that I needed a manicure.  I heard the fights and accusations.  I winced when she slammed the doors and held her loosely to allow lonely frightened tears when no one else was awake.  But those times didn't last.  We got back on our feet.  We were a good family; Man, Woman and Castle.

"A BABY???"  I remember the shrieking and jumping.  Oh how happy we were!  I thought my cupboards would pop. We grew together and stayed awake nights as the new addition came in and changed us all.  We had new priorities.  My front door squeaked.  My paint chipped.  But I loved watching that little baby toddle and tickle my halls.  I didn't mind when she colored my walls or swung on my door handles.  Some of my best memories were when she dared to slide the banister.  I promised I wouldn't tell. It was our secret; tucked away up in my attic.

We lived.  We entertained and I wore fancy jewelry at the holidays.  We cooked and I was filled with warmth and fabulous food and friends.  More babies came and we adjusted; made room and moved along..  We shared promotions, graduations, lost loves and disappointments.  We got mad; saying hurtful things and the tears cried could have filled my well out back.  There were chips in my floors and my garage door didn't work anymore.  But Man and Woman and I dreamed. They promised a porch and rocking chairs. We would sit and watch the sun set.    Babies confessed and shared their hearts within me. They grew up around me, from swing sets to cars and I protected them well; loving them more. 

 
Those kids grew and flew.  We were left alone again; just us.  Retirement visited and we liked it.  We were more attentive to each other.  I got a new front door and a face lift.  Lucky me.  We enjoyed these times.  But as years stacked up, we slowed.  I suffered with their illnesses and forgetfulness.  There was the day Woman left the burner on.   Man forgot how to get home from Store up the road.  Then Man got sick and I began to smell it. My gutters leaked for them.  Death came for man and took Woman's happiness and memory.  No one could stay in the castle anymore.  So I waited.  I stared at the road watching other castles with their families; bikes, cars, kids, laughter.  I remembered and my shutters drooped.  My windows didn't shine much anymore and I felt like I shrank in the rain.
One day one of the babies came and stuck a sign on my chest; my lawn.  I can't read but people came to look at me.  OH! I was so embarrassed! I looked awful; not fit for company.  I heard words like "inspection and sale and "do it yourself"-" and I began to understand. 

A small car arrived.  A man and a woman got out. She smiled as he opened the door for her and ushered to toward me.  I stood tall and proud.  I am a castle. I felt them fall in love with me and heard their giggly words as they promised I was perfect. My floors creaked and my joists popped with happiness.  We became a family.






Something quick but I loved it.  I loved the feel of this one.  When my partner sent this picture to me I sat down quickly and began.  The original was much longer and a little more sad.  I think this is pretty good.  Thank you for stopping here.  I enjoyed sharing with you.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

The introduction

I sized her up for the first time.  She was only a breath shorter than me.  Her brown hair had light streaks in it and these intense brown eyes that laughed and gave away every emotion she had inside. She was beautiful; my teenage daughter.  Thirteen. 


HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY GIRL...the words stuck in my throat for this was no longer true in her eyes.


MOOOOOM she rolled em and laughed.  In my hands were her breakfast (always served in bed on this day) and gifts.  She clapped happily as Ben drudged in rubbing his eye sleepily.  I handed him a plate as the dogs jumped and chuffed hungrily.


We laughed as we remembered her debut into this scary messed up world.


"It's time for school Doll. Let's get a move on." She got down and headed down the hall.
"Where you going?"


"I need something to wear." she zoomed right into my closet, plucked a sweater (I had intended to wear and hence laid out) made a fast pit stop to hijack some earrings and yawned sweetly on her way to the shower.


I watched this with mixed emotions:  sadness for I remember picking out her tiny work boots and cookie pants, dressing her and chugging her all around the dressing table,  but happiness that she was a lovely young lady; beautiful, fun and confident, elated that she wanted to wear my stuff.


As most of you know, we are crossing this line gently.  The talks we've had have been more adult than I ever anticipated.  Her knowledge of life has stunned me on many levels and I confess I have learned a lot:  I'm not always right, nor do I know everything. I've learned that she is an independent thinker and she loves doing her own thing.  She loves to laugh but struggles with others' pain.  She is nurturing and kind. I am proud of her.  I love who she is...becoming.


So we hauled her to the 76ers game and plugged her name into the jumbotron.  They brought her a bday pack and embarrassed her. Cheech and I clapped and laughed.  It's our last hurrah.  Well, until we put those nudie shots up at her wedding...oops! Did I type that out loud? :) C'mon...you know you love it (or have done it)

Driving home, I glanced back and saw her dozing.  I sized her up for the last time; my little girl.  I missed the pony tails and tiny shoes.  My lip quivered at not being able to have her monkey hug me; wrapping her chubby little legs around my hips.  I wondered what was in store for me from this "on the brink" woman quietly resting in my car. I hoped I could count the tears, both hers and mine on one hand...not too likely.  I prayed that the laughs were innumerable. I smiled waiting for the day that we crossed over and became friends aside from parent and child. I think I'm glad I met this girl.  She's rather amazing.

But that's until I bust her after curfew.

Hang on guys, we're in for a bumpy ride.

Monday, March 14, 2011

WPS

Ok
This is the clean version.  Although I'm in love with the original version, dropping the eff bomb so frequently is NOT justifiable in my house.  It's cause for "Biting the Bar".  Sooooo here it is and I just bee bop around still loving it. 

Slower pace today guys.  I'm heading for work instead of a run. I've only got a few days left and the help I thought I had is gone. So I am struggling to keep my head above water.  I'll get there; just a little longer.

Enjoy and have a good Monday.

Cee Lo Green - Forget You

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Hi guys.
I'm sorry. This week just got away from me.  I have so many things ready to go and I'm racing around trying to get all my chores, work and packing done before the deadline.  The countdown has begun.  I am really excited. This is going to be great!

I promise this week is back to "normal." hahahaha that's such a relative term. We'll meet back here mid week and catch up, okay? WPS and the like will be good to go but no stories til later. They're marinating.
Miss you!
Tess

Monday, March 7, 2011

WPS

This one is a little scratchy to start the morning, but I still love it.  I had the weekend off and am hitting it hard back to doubles. *sigh* I hate doubles.  But as we've discussed in other forums; it's all about reaching a goal...and the hat. Didn't forget the dom hat did you? Shame on you. ;)

On your mark, get set...
Let's go Babies, times a wastin.

Have a good day.

This is how a heart breaks - Rob Thomas (With Lyrics)

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Sure

She wasn't sure she was ready for this.  He'd invited her to dinner.  They had spent so much time together and enjoyed every minute. Their interests were varied but they could talk for hours, argue personal beliefs and yet continue to laugh.  Still, Tracey wasn't sure what was next. She tried to play it off as just hanging out but her knees shook every time she thought of him and when she arrived half an hour early, Tracey forced herself down to the nearest parking lot to get a hold of her heart.  She didn't want to be too optimistic:  things happen; people misread situations...

At a more appropriate time, she pulled up (again), primped and pushed herself from the car.  She was almost panting by the time she got to his door. She swallowed what felt like a handful of golf balls, smoothing her navy silk blouse once more.  She raked her hair and puffed her breath to remove her bangs from her face.  It was cold and a light rain had started to fall, just enough to potentially ruin the reserved but sexy ensemble she'd put together.  Raising her hand to knock she almost bopped his nose.  He must have been waiting for her.  They laughed and kissed politely.  He took her coat and showed her in.  Her heart was beating so hard she thought even her shirt was pounding.

"You all right?" Mark asked."You seem out of breath."  His head tilted curiously allowing his dark curls to dip slightly across his grey eyes. 

She wanted to trace them away but blushed instead.  She sighed heavily, collecting herself.  "Yep.  Just a little nervous I guess." she laughed lightly. "Sorry."

"No need.  To be either." He said and reached around her to usher in.  The smell of dinner and the music they both loved beckoned from the other room.  He poured her wine and delved in to the day's events.

Any nervousness melted away and she was happy the evening was comfortable.  There was no awkwardness or sexual tension to be tripped over or stumbled through.  Tracey admitted to herself she was almost disappointed about that.  She dismissed her earlier worries as childish.  She always did this; think there was something when there wasn't.  She had been wrong about his intentions.  They would be friends. Yes.  And she would be happy with that. She tried to believe it, but there were times when she found herself watching him move under his clothes and wishing she could taste their wine from his lips.  She felt foolish wanting him since it by his body language it obviously wasn't the same.

Dinner came and they argued philosophies (a favorite topic).  They sparred and fought each other with authors, quotes, theories and religions. They called a truce over dessert.  Moving into the keeping room, she flounced carelessly and tucked her feet up under her.

"Round two?  Tell me again how there is no original thought.  I already know that though, don't I?" She smiled over her glass and took a drink.

"That's a weak one but yes it's true. You can do better than that." he grinned.

"Perhaps I simply don't feel you're worth the effort to come up with something better." she added quickly.

He raised his eyebrows and glass. "But I know that isn't true."  He waved off the argument and beckoned her to join him.  He pointed to some pictures and began to tell her the stories behind them.

Tracey didn't catch a word.  She stood there, willing her ears to hear but her mind was wandering; watching the curve of his mouth wanting to kiss it. She studied his frame under his clothes and wanted to touch him.  She felt  like every nerve was burning just under the surface of her skin.  She turned her attention to her glass, changing her focus to the deep leggy wine.

"And so I killed them all and they are stuffed in my stock freezer downstairs..." she caught.  Her head snapped up; embarrassed that he'd found her not paying attention. Her eyes were wide open.

"You're a million miles away. What's wrong?"

"Mark, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."

"You didn't like dinner? I stink?"

She laughed softly. "No. Don't be silly. It has been a wonderful evening. As always. Thank you."  She placed her drink on the mantle. The fire's warmth and light played on her body.

"You want to go?" Mark asked slowly.

"Oh." she was startled by this. " Oh, yes, I suppose I should. It's late." She could feel her speech getting faster. She was getting upset.

Mark took a long drink from his glass and stood quietly in front of her. 

"What?" she half laughed.  "You've got lots of work to do. I shouldn't have stayed so late." she was trying to regain her ground and keep it...friendly. She went to move passed him.

He stepped up to her, reached around and set his glass next to hers; his fingers drawing along her chin.  Tracey caught her breath at his touch.

  "Stay." he whispered. 

She closed her eyes and felt his lips for the first time.  They were soft and sweet.  He pulled away but she could still feel his breath.  Leaning in, she returned his touch and traced his mouth with her tongue lightly, curiously.  Her body tingled with desire.  She slowly ran her hands along his chest and cupped his face in her hands. 

 He said her name and began to kiss her again.  His lips more firm and hungry than before.  He nuzzled the hollow of her throat. He took her hand, guiding her asking her to touch him.  When she did, he groaned quietly into her hair.  She pulled at his clothes and tugged open his shirt.  She wanted to see him, feel his skin. 

His lips coarsely found her mouth tasting her desire and nervousness.  As she hands teased and explored his body, he whispered his desire in her ear and along her body.  He pulled the zipper to her blouse slowly, relishing the goose bumps that flashed across her back as his fingertips caressed her skin.  He pulled it up and over her head tossing it carelessly aside so he could taste her.  The way she moved against him drove him wild.  He quickly picked her up and lay down with her along the couch.  Kneeling above her, he drew along her sides and hips; feeling her breath quicken and watching her move to meet him.  He ran his mouth just above her skin so as not to touch her but for her to feel his words as he told her she was beautiful and perfect. She moaned  softly when he finally undressed her.  She pleaded with him to kiss her; excitedly whispering how much she wanted him. He loved that her body was warm and eager; that he had the same effect on her.  Mark kept his pace was slow and cautious.  When she could take no more she pulled away and sat up.  Her lips and mouth were dry  He watched as she licked them and smiled.

Tracey moved almost like a cat to crawl above him.  She pulled at his jeans and when they were equally vulnerable, she began to taste his skin; his body.  He clenched his fists and felt every muscle begin to burn.  His breath was jagged. He begged her not to stop. Her mouth was warm; soft.  Her kisses hungry and insistent. Her hands scratched and clenched him. She tortured him with her tongue, curious and tender along the length of him until he was convinced he would explode.  She could feel he was close and pulled away to kiss his hip, his stomach, travelling slowly back the way she'd come.  She was fully above him now, her hips gently lowering to feel him better.  He cupped her backside and sat up slightly.  He slid against her, inside her and groaned as her back arched.

She sighed; a soft sideways smile crinkling her mouth.  Her body tightened around him as they began to move together.  His hands slipped around her hips pulling her down closer, deeper. She gasped and pushed against him.  He felt her slide into ecstasy.  Her jaw quivered as he continued to move, more quickly, urgently.  She took his hands and brought them around to her breasts.  He kissed them, teased them. She moaned his name and brought his fingers to her lips.  She tasted them, lingering; savoring the feel of every inch of his flesh. 

His body began to shake and tighten. He clutched her and began to pant. Like a fire it crawled under his skin causing him to cry out.  She matched him with every breath and push.  She shivered, warmed by her own passion.

Their bodies still entangled and slick, he shifted to have her lie next to him.  He stroked her hair and kissed her skin more gently this time.  She sighed and traced his body with her fingertips.  Their breath slowed and sleep tickled them.

"You want to stay?" he asked quietly.

"You want me to?"

"Is this a good thing?"

She smiled on his skin and reached for him again. "I'm pretty sure it could be."

The fire dimmed to let the new lovers sleep.




It's been a while since we've had one of these.  I'd hate to get rusty in the passion department.  I hope I stirred you a little.  Have a nice night.  Thank you for stopping by, we have such fun when you're here.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Singing in the rain

Doppler radar my ass.  It only made the meteorologists laughable. The wise rainmakers who wouldn't commit to anything:

Frost or a foot of snow
Partly cloudy with some sun OR sunny with a chance of clouds.

Way to go you Einsteins.


But The Cloud?  They got it right; sadly so.  It began as a joke over Tehran but stopped being funny when people started dying; horribly.


Those stupid power hungry crazies across the pond just couldn't leave well enough alone. Nuclear bombs werent' good enough.  WMD's? Ricin? oooooh they were child's play compared to this hot mess; a whole new chemical monster.  Like so many other sneaky race demolishing toys designed, it was colorless and odorless.  But the "Spring Fever" Powder when mixed with hydrogen made a strange gas which caused the paralysis of all muscles; like succinyl choline. Lovely.  You stopped breathing and moving but remained conscious.  And did I mention that it also burned? Oh yes, from the inside out like a smoldering campfire unquenchable with water. In fact, the moisture inside the body only enhanced your experience causing you to dissolve.  Death could come mercifully in an hour or linger for days depending on the penetration. But it's efficacy was one hundred percent.  So they thought they were clever kings until the manufacturing plant sprung a leak and then exploded releasing their angel maker into the atmosphere to blow around.  They never got to witness their sick victory because they poisoned their own land first; all their livestock, their people...everything gone.


I watched my doom creep across the globe on Doppler radar.  The cloud split once dragging across the US and Canada after getting caught in a tropical storm. Tropical storm "Destiny". How cute. We had to contend with the ocean vomiting its dead on our shores.  No one complained because it was useless.  We knew we were next and so we simply watched oblivion float in and out with the tide like a clock ticking down the minutes left for humanity.

It loped along; leaving bodies withered and choked, holding each other twisted in gruesome pain and fear.  And when it got to my first home, lots tried to run underground. But if they made it beyond the storm itself, there was nothing useful left when they emerged.  It had all been poisoned.   Others gulped at it to end the suffering sooner.  And when I think of it now, they are the lucky ones. I have tried to dodge it but I'm running out of hiding places.  I keep a small stock of food in cans, raiding stores I pass.  It is getting smaller as I am able to carry less.  I'm growing weaker.  I wear a ventilator mask that mumbles and wheezes, struggling to save me.  I'm covered in layers of sooty clothes that I cannot change.  The stirring of the thick layer of dust will descend on me for certain. I sleep when I can and take different modes of transportation where available; scooters, bikes anything.  I hate this running. I don't know how much longer I want to.   I remember how rain used to cleanse everything. I recall the sweet smell of spring.  Now it is heavy and salty. It carries a hiss with it as  everything melts away. 

There are no more Doppler broadcasts or radio shows.  On occasion there are simple air wave requests but they are few and far between, disappearing after only a couple of days. I watch my death chase me.  It is dark and rolling.  The clouds are pissed that they cannot catch me and they throw neon lightening to the ground in electric tantrums.  The rain that falls is thick and sounds like cake batter on the roofs.  It clings childishly to everything and destroys whatever it likes. 

 To see the ghosts of society that are left is sickening.  I can not help them.  They lurk in corners, their flesh sloughing away;  crying softly begging God to end this.   "Rain rain go away." I whisper to Him daily.  It is the last prayer I remember.   Like Edgar Allan Poe's "Mask of the Red Death" I think I will let it in soon. The party is over and I'm simply too tired.  

 I hear the deadly rain on my windows. Searching for me, asking me to come out and play.
 With tears streaming down my doomed face I step into my forever:


"Siiiiingin in the raiiiin...
Just siiiiiingin in the rain!
What a glorious feeling...(tap tap)
I'm happy again!"



Hey Gang.
I do like this one although it is a little more plodding and less intense than usual.  Need to try different things right?  I hope you liked it.  Thanks for stopping in.  You're good company.

The Lady with the Lantern

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