And so, I made it there and back.
I won't lie. It was hard. Within the first hour, I saw a black bear. It was a Scooby-Doo moment for us both:
"ZOINKS!"
I took off one way, the bear went the other. We both stopped and looked back (to make sure we weren't being followed) and I just kept muttering like Dori from "Finding Nemo" : "Just keep swimming- Just keep swimming...."
I saw a milk snake: rather lovely but seemed ticked off at the world. It was certainly mad at my hiking pole. JEEZ! Whazza maddah YOU? I just walked behind it and mosied on.
Just keep swimming Just keep swimming...
It was an eight hour haul to the ranger station, where I asked about the storm coming up over the mountain. "Should be in around seven but gone pretty quick". Good news. I hiked another hour to the site; surprised by a couple of campers. I received weird looks as I unpacked my entire campsite in an area the size of a picnic table top (at the most) The others hauled grills, chairs, coolers....
The wind picked up and the sky got droopy. I quickly heated up my dinner, sacked my food outside the tent, got some writing and notes taken care of, changed in to dry clothes and felt the first drops.
Zip! Right in. Got my lil head lamp got my snuggly bag. I''m good.
Plop ~ drip ~ drop~
KABOOSH
Rain? I could have done all right. Monsoon? uhhhh little tougher to deal with. Now, I should have told you that my pad site was very rocky. It was too hard to dig the spikes very far in so I had to go as far as I could and then pile rock on top to hold. The deluge that bombarded me caused pooling in the rocks. It also caused pooling in my tent. My bag got wet, my clothes... everything. I was cold. I was drenched and disappointed.
Just keep swimming Just keep swimming. (I thought at one point this would become a literal statement)
But the rain ended. I still didn't sleep much since most of the night had to be spent bailing out. It had to be done considering... I was by myself. When the morning sun came, I hauled all my gear up, now heavy with water and finished though I confess it was a shorter hike than originally planned. I think I'm still trying to take the chill out of my bones. But I did it. I was awesome with my gear, learned a few things to do differently (better), patted myself on the back for the things I did right ~ Liiiiike facing my tent away from the wind and at the top of the site so as to prevent a worse flood of my gear. I'm beaming about that one especially since I heard the campers near by trying to switch that... too late...
I am amazed at what I've done this summer; all I've achieved. I can tell you there were times when I was scared to death, frustrated beyond words and exhausted passed sleep. But fifty miles later, I survived and love it. Love what I've seen and more all I have become. Survivor woman? Not a chance. I love the spa too much, but it sure feels good to do this. It makes me excited for next year.
I wanted to thank all of you for your jokes, your support and concern. I know you thought I was crazy to do this albeit alone... well "That's just nuckin futs" to quote a few of you. I was major injury free and safe; best of all, I was happy. In the end, that's all we get; a chance to be happy.
I hope to be back this weekend with a couple of goodies.
Just keep swimming.
Much love,
Tessa
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Friday, September 20, 2013
Just wanted to pop up and say hi before I go. I'm kind of excited. I'm getting ready for my overnight this weekend. :) I will stay on the east side and hike teh glacier lake region. It's very dense and pretty remote. I can hardly wait. I thought about taking Birdie along, but for this first one, I shall remain solo. I will need to mix up the trail vittles and get other foodstuffs ready. This is it gang; my warm up for the big run next year (of course I will do this several times before I disappear on THAT one ~ never fear) Scared? You betcha. Season for most is over so I will be alone. REAAAALLY alone. but this is what I want to do. I truly do. I've worked hard and am more than ready to carry my full pack (about 40-45 lbs) - all gear is tested and ready- even practiced lighting an emergency fire with steelwool and a 9v battery... okay I just did that one to show off. heehee. It IS really cool.. just sayin... This will help prepare me for next year. The year after that? Just you wait... You'll crap your pahnts. My parents will... I won't tell them until I leave...or maybe until I get back. Ha~ can you be grounded at my age?
The weather is cool 40s (or a little less) at night. So it's now or never. Whew. This is it. I'm going to do this. Me. I made my goal of fifty miles this season and am very proud of that.
I'll let you know when I get back so you don't fuss n stew. Where I am headed has no reception so no, no GPS, no texts, no emails. But it will be all right. I will be okay. I am very careful and well protected. Be excited for my adventure. Know we will laugh about my screw ups and mishaps. Pray no bees or ticks.
:)
Love you guys.
Tessa
The weather is cool 40s (or a little less) at night. So it's now or never. Whew. This is it. I'm going to do this. Me. I made my goal of fifty miles this season and am very proud of that.
I'll let you know when I get back so you don't fuss n stew. Where I am headed has no reception so no, no GPS, no texts, no emails. But it will be all right. I will be okay. I am very careful and well protected. Be excited for my adventure. Know we will laugh about my screw ups and mishaps. Pray no bees or ticks.
:)
Love you guys.
Tessa
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Cross the Bridge
I guess the blame could begin with Margaret. After all, she started it. She gave birth to Kenneth. Begot ~ as the Bible says. Who WAS Margaret Weber? A selfish, needy nobody who had delusions of grandeur. She craved attention and did anything to get it. She had a baby too young, out of wedlock. She owned a bar and dated LOTS of customers - only the ones who had money or SAID they did. She told raunchy jokes, drank too much, and had QUITE a temper when she didn't get what she wanted. Most people knew and understood that if you crossed Margaret's path, there was a very heavy toll. she might have been pretty.. at one time or at any time had she not been so hard, so devious and so mean. Her hair was jet black and had once been long and silky. Now it was short and curly, wiry by many accounts and her eyes that could have been called jewel blue were simply icy. Her thick strong frame had been replaced cruelly by sagging boobs and arthritic joints. She was not happy in any of this and sought to punish those responsible... or at least near by.
But Kenneth was the light of her life when he was young. She paraded him about town, bragged about his looks, his intelligence (both of which were mediocre at best) and his prospects. He would be rich and famous and take care of her like a queen, she boasted. Kenneth did the latter. She hen pecked and brow beat that boy until there was nothing left but a wisp of a man. She liked that just fine. She had a servant and could live her "high life". Kenneth was a kind, soft boy. He tried to please everyone; all the time. He worked hard and although he was no rocket scientist, he was a mighty fine woodworker, and handy man; the best in town and we all went straight to him from small engine repair to building a fancy pergola out back of our nicer homes. Unlike his mama, he was well thought of in town. He was strong and gentle. He was tall and lean with a shock of curly dark hair like his mother but with eyes as deep as the night is long.
That must have been what drew Samantha to him. She was the daughter of Reverend Pierce. She too was kinds and gentle, reliable and smart. Boy, was she a pretty picture too. She was going to school for nursing. She wanted to help people. She had the personality for it. The two of them were a perfect couple. The kind that could live a happy wonderful life together with kids and dogs and love always.
Had it not been for Margaret.
Good LAWD~ that woman snapped at Samantha and berated her a hundred time worse than she EVER did her little Kenny. In Margaret's eyes, no one and I mean NO ONE was good enough for her boy. Samantha endured though and they just kept dating. They saw each other on the sly ~ sneakin off to the carnival or the picnic at church. Sometimes Kenneth would trick Margaret in to going somewhere and Samantha would "show up" or "Just happen to be there" and Margaret, mad that she'd been duped or shown up would just terrorize the two of them; always causing a scene. But young love can't be stopped. They eloped. Margaret was furious. She didn't speak to Kenneth for two months but still expected the spa-Royal treatment from the largest back bedroom she laid claim to and from where she screamed orders in the trailer the newlyweds rented. Samantha tried her best too since they were living under the same roof.
From the beginning, Margaret misunderstood the arrangement. Instead of being a guest, she thought she ruled the roost; dictating meals, chores, the whole kit and caboodle. Kenneth just kept working and Samantha had her schooling. They both tried to stay away from the house and Margaret. Kenneth and Samantha would meet in town for lunch or an early supper; leaving Margaret to fend for herself with leftovers to heat up. THAT didn't go on well with Mother and by the time they drug themselves home, tired and frustrated, to hear Margaret's screeching was enough to begin to drive quite a wedge in to the perfect young love. Samantha wanted her out; gone. Kenneth couldn't toss his mother out into the street.
And then there was Margaret: envious of Kenneth's popularity of the "proper kind" no matter how she had tried to manipulate and ruin him; jealous of Samantha's career opportunities and drive, let alone her youth and beauty. She was glad they were fighting, ecstatic that it was about her. When she was out with friends, she laughed heartily about the dissolution of their fiery tale. She hated their kindness and their life. The life sh had always wanted; bragged about, but never chased. No dreams had ever come true for Margaret and she CERTAINLY didn't want them coming true for those two "snot nosed fools" who didn't know what hard work even was.
So Kenneth kept running away, Samantha listened and boiled inside and Margaret just kept spouting off. The hate began to simmer and bubble like a well nurtured stew.
Samantha didn't believe she was collecting those samples to poison her mother in law. Not really. Not until that wonderful Sunday dinner. They were going to "have at it."; going to tell Margaret that she had to go. They had even gone so far as to find another trailer at the other end of the park (too far for the cripple old bat to walk, but a safe distance if she really DID need help). Kenneth had finally seen the light ~ well six weeks of sexual probation hadn't hurt the decision making either. And WHAT a celebration they had in Margaret's bed that afternoon while she was having Ruth take her to lunch and get her hair done! but deep down, she knew the man she had married was weak. He could never say no to Margaret. Samantha just had to be sure that the old witch was gone. One way or another. She patted the powder papers in her pocket and began to cook the individual pot pies. It would be the last time Margaret would ever have to complain about her cooking, her poor house cleaning, her awful career choice, anything. Anything at all.
"DELISH! Come n git it" she thought cheerfully. Sure there were pangs of guilt but she reasoned logically enough that all mad dogs needed to be put down. She was humming in the kitchen when Margaret began to bark
"SHUT UP out there! You sing like a rusted chainsaw! Good GOD. Let me have some peace and quiet girl!"
"Sorry Mother Margaret. I was just making Sunday supper. Won't you come and make some of that delicious (piss water) lemonade as a treat for us?" Samantha tried to hide the bitter laugh that gurgled in her throat. To her surprise, Margaret was quickly down the hall and pulling out the pitcher for the lemonade.
"Oh! Mother! You startled me."
"Get out of my way, child. I'm making lemonade. SOMEthing should be good enough to swallow during this shamble meal." The old woman turned up her nose and winced. "Now get me the sugar"
"Of course." Samantha said tightly and turned away, never seeing the added "sweetener" that would kill Samantha in just minutes. "Pucker up buttercup" Margaret whispered as she stirred. If Kenneth was too stupid and weak to leave this wretched girl, it was up to her to help her little boy see the light.
Dinner was tersely made and they sat with it plated up waiting. And waiting. They toyed with their meals and stirred their drinks, glaring at each other across the little Formica table.
"Well, we should eat while it's hot." Samantha said quietly, handing Margaret her plate.
"You bet." and she poured Samantha's cup first. "Drink up. I put a little extra kick in it."
"Lovely." Samantha said with a small grin.
"Shame Kenneth is late.. again."
Samantha sighed. "He works so hard."
"You drive him away. He'd love to be her more if you weren't..."
"Let's just enjoy our dinner... shall we? Until he DOES get home?" teeth were bared; weak attempts at smiles.
No one saw dessert. Almost a week went by before the combination of summer heat and decaying flesh brought the police out to search the little trailer. The two women slumped in their chairs, their dead mouths hanging open spilling maggots onto what looked to be a delicious meal. The two enemies appeared to be sharing quite a joke. Kenneth was sought in question to the poisonings (two separate substances had been used... so strange they thought) However, this prime suspect was found inside his tiny workshop/garage in his car; a hose leading from tailpipe to its window. The police scratched their heads.
The case is still open but no one really wants to cross that bridge...
But Kenneth was the light of her life when he was young. She paraded him about town, bragged about his looks, his intelligence (both of which were mediocre at best) and his prospects. He would be rich and famous and take care of her like a queen, she boasted. Kenneth did the latter. She hen pecked and brow beat that boy until there was nothing left but a wisp of a man. She liked that just fine. She had a servant and could live her "high life". Kenneth was a kind, soft boy. He tried to please everyone; all the time. He worked hard and although he was no rocket scientist, he was a mighty fine woodworker, and handy man; the best in town and we all went straight to him from small engine repair to building a fancy pergola out back of our nicer homes. Unlike his mama, he was well thought of in town. He was strong and gentle. He was tall and lean with a shock of curly dark hair like his mother but with eyes as deep as the night is long.
That must have been what drew Samantha to him. She was the daughter of Reverend Pierce. She too was kinds and gentle, reliable and smart. Boy, was she a pretty picture too. She was going to school for nursing. She wanted to help people. She had the personality for it. The two of them were a perfect couple. The kind that could live a happy wonderful life together with kids and dogs and love always.
Had it not been for Margaret.
Good LAWD~ that woman snapped at Samantha and berated her a hundred time worse than she EVER did her little Kenny. In Margaret's eyes, no one and I mean NO ONE was good enough for her boy. Samantha endured though and they just kept dating. They saw each other on the sly ~ sneakin off to the carnival or the picnic at church. Sometimes Kenneth would trick Margaret in to going somewhere and Samantha would "show up" or "Just happen to be there" and Margaret, mad that she'd been duped or shown up would just terrorize the two of them; always causing a scene. But young love can't be stopped. They eloped. Margaret was furious. She didn't speak to Kenneth for two months but still expected the spa-Royal treatment from the largest back bedroom she laid claim to and from where she screamed orders in the trailer the newlyweds rented. Samantha tried her best too since they were living under the same roof.
From the beginning, Margaret misunderstood the arrangement. Instead of being a guest, she thought she ruled the roost; dictating meals, chores, the whole kit and caboodle. Kenneth just kept working and Samantha had her schooling. They both tried to stay away from the house and Margaret. Kenneth and Samantha would meet in town for lunch or an early supper; leaving Margaret to fend for herself with leftovers to heat up. THAT didn't go on well with Mother and by the time they drug themselves home, tired and frustrated, to hear Margaret's screeching was enough to begin to drive quite a wedge in to the perfect young love. Samantha wanted her out; gone. Kenneth couldn't toss his mother out into the street.
And then there was Margaret: envious of Kenneth's popularity of the "proper kind" no matter how she had tried to manipulate and ruin him; jealous of Samantha's career opportunities and drive, let alone her youth and beauty. She was glad they were fighting, ecstatic that it was about her. When she was out with friends, she laughed heartily about the dissolution of their fiery tale. She hated their kindness and their life. The life sh had always wanted; bragged about, but never chased. No dreams had ever come true for Margaret and she CERTAINLY didn't want them coming true for those two "snot nosed fools" who didn't know what hard work even was.
So Kenneth kept running away, Samantha listened and boiled inside and Margaret just kept spouting off. The hate began to simmer and bubble like a well nurtured stew.
Samantha didn't believe she was collecting those samples to poison her mother in law. Not really. Not until that wonderful Sunday dinner. They were going to "have at it."; going to tell Margaret that she had to go. They had even gone so far as to find another trailer at the other end of the park (too far for the cripple old bat to walk, but a safe distance if she really DID need help). Kenneth had finally seen the light ~ well six weeks of sexual probation hadn't hurt the decision making either. And WHAT a celebration they had in Margaret's bed that afternoon while she was having Ruth take her to lunch and get her hair done! but deep down, she knew the man she had married was weak. He could never say no to Margaret. Samantha just had to be sure that the old witch was gone. One way or another. She patted the powder papers in her pocket and began to cook the individual pot pies. It would be the last time Margaret would ever have to complain about her cooking, her poor house cleaning, her awful career choice, anything. Anything at all.
"DELISH! Come n git it" she thought cheerfully. Sure there were pangs of guilt but she reasoned logically enough that all mad dogs needed to be put down. She was humming in the kitchen when Margaret began to bark
"SHUT UP out there! You sing like a rusted chainsaw! Good GOD. Let me have some peace and quiet girl!"
"Sorry Mother Margaret. I was just making Sunday supper. Won't you come and make some of that delicious (piss water) lemonade as a treat for us?" Samantha tried to hide the bitter laugh that gurgled in her throat. To her surprise, Margaret was quickly down the hall and pulling out the pitcher for the lemonade.
"Oh! Mother! You startled me."
"Get out of my way, child. I'm making lemonade. SOMEthing should be good enough to swallow during this shamble meal." The old woman turned up her nose and winced. "Now get me the sugar"
"Of course." Samantha said tightly and turned away, never seeing the added "sweetener" that would kill Samantha in just minutes. "Pucker up buttercup" Margaret whispered as she stirred. If Kenneth was too stupid and weak to leave this wretched girl, it was up to her to help her little boy see the light.
Dinner was tersely made and they sat with it plated up waiting. And waiting. They toyed with their meals and stirred their drinks, glaring at each other across the little Formica table.
"Well, we should eat while it's hot." Samantha said quietly, handing Margaret her plate.
"You bet." and she poured Samantha's cup first. "Drink up. I put a little extra kick in it."
"Lovely." Samantha said with a small grin.
"Shame Kenneth is late.. again."
Samantha sighed. "He works so hard."
"You drive him away. He'd love to be her more if you weren't..."
"Let's just enjoy our dinner... shall we? Until he DOES get home?" teeth were bared; weak attempts at smiles.
No one saw dessert. Almost a week went by before the combination of summer heat and decaying flesh brought the police out to search the little trailer. The two women slumped in their chairs, their dead mouths hanging open spilling maggots onto what looked to be a delicious meal. The two enemies appeared to be sharing quite a joke. Kenneth was sought in question to the poisonings (two separate substances had been used... so strange they thought) However, this prime suspect was found inside his tiny workshop/garage in his car; a hose leading from tailpipe to its window. The police scratched their heads.
The case is still open but no one really wants to cross that bridge...
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Picture perfect
I wipe the same spot on the table over and over-just waiting. It's still early yet, only 5:15 but she will be along soon; as she always is; for our 6:30 date. She takes the 403 from outside of town and at this time of day, it takes a little longer. And it's going to rain today. My darling looks so lovely in the rain. Well, she just looks lovely; pretty like a picture with soft blond hair and laughing green eyes - no matter what the weather; she is perfect. She makes me catch my breath, my Jeanne. I wish she was mine. But she belongs to someone else; Larry. Larry isn't good enough. He yells a lot and makes awful demands of my Jeanne. I know sometimes she wears long sleeves and it's hot out. Sunglasses on grey days. I don't ask though. I can't bear the thought of what the answer will be. No one should be treated like that. Not even a junkyard dog.
She comes here for supper after work. That's how we met. She complimented me on my pot pie. I make it special for her on the first and third Thursdays; her favorite. She can stay a little later on those days so I add in pecan pie. Another favorite. And she wears blue. MY favorite. Seem silly? Maybe to you, but when you're this in love, it makes perfect sense. It wasn't at first sight- maybe second cup of coffee. She noticed me ~ with my dirty apron and my sweaty hair from bustin my hump all day over the grille. Someone as beautiful as her... made me feel like somebody new; special. I look in to her eyes and drown. I hear her giggle and feel drunk. To think of holding her, kissing her; just once? I think I'd lose my mind in happiness.
So every day we meet here. Been doing it for a long time 462 days. We make plans to run away; to Georgia ~ Savannah. Yep, we'll each take one bag and get on a bus and never look back
She's had to stay because of Larry. More so because of Nate, her son. So we just sit together. Hold hands across the table, listen to the music and laugh about our life together, our future. At last, with Nate being older, she will let go. She's gonna come with me. She can set it all up with her sister Nancy. Nate will finish his last six months of school and she can be with me.
Oh ~ here comes the rain. We need it, so I can't complain. It smells so sweet and clean. I can see her. her bus. Just a half a block a way. She'll get down and raise her umbrella; red polka dots. I bought it at Woolworth's last year when she got caught in a downpour. She'll turn her collar to the cold and damp and begin her "trot". She looks like a little girl when she does that. I see her small limp and frown a little. It came after Larry didn't get supper on time. Now he throws her china and screams because he got in so much trouble. He seems to think that is okay. That and the pulling on her arms or smacks... but I don't think so. And I KNOW she doesn't. I think when we get to Georgia, I will make baths for her. I'll bring her a glass of wine. I'll tell her she's beautiful and I will leave a plate for her in the oven for whenever she wants it. She deserves to be spoiled.
Jeanne steps off the curb. She sees me, smiles and raises her arms. A bag. She's carrying a bag. My heart skips around between my ribs; giggling and my butterflies in my belly smile. My whole life is a few steps away. Even in the early evening, she seems to glow. I will be glad to get out of this dingy city. It gets so dark so early now. The headlights from the cars spill by and cast lving spotlights on my angel. Every day she looks more beautiful. More mine. I'm so lucky. I can't stop the smile on my face from spreading like ivy. I wave back and go to the door. I want to hold it for her. I want to welcome her into my life. My arms. I hear my heart beating in my chest. My mouth is dry and my knees are weak. My Jeanne. My love.
I don"t see it. I hear it ~ an angry wailing of tires as the car roared around the corner. "Toofast~toofast" I heard myself shout. I begin through the door toward Jeanne. But she is gone in a blurr of light. I see her shoe, skittering along the pavement bloody with a broke heel. What is coming toward me is a doll, cast off and flailing. It's face is cracked and smeared. My beautiful picture perfect Jeanne. Broken. There is a growl and a blinding flash as the car shifts its gaze to me. This is all in a matter of seconds. I see the driver. I know it is Larry. He's glaring hatefully at me and I understand that he's mashing the skinny pedal to the floor. I have nowhere to hide. Jeanne collapses at my feet. My body instinctively lowers to meet/catch her. I want to help her. I watch her sweet, gentle body fold obscenely under tires and hulking metal. She is already dead. I close my eyes against the smell of warm pennies and angry gas.
There is a crunching noise and a scream; my last. I feel metal biting, breaking my flesh and bones. I stretch to reach for her fingers-she had them painted for our trip. Blue. Light blue. Now they are shattered and smeared with street dirt. Darkness and the heavy thunk of my body being destroyed are brief and intense. A disappointed cold creeps up threatening to pull me away. This is my new life. My work, my heart, our dreams, all crushed.
Softly I hear my name. I smell lavender. Her smell. I open my eyes. No pain. She is leaning over me. Her face is lovely. Smooth. Picture perfect.
"My Love" she cries in a whisper. But there are no tears.
I can touch her cheek; her perfect mouth. She leans in and kisses me for the first time but never the last.
It's raining.
There are lights and sirens but far away. She stands and tugs at my hand, pulling me forward in to a warm new light; life. I look back and sure enough, there we are; crumpled and bloody, our fingers just touching. Larry is on his knees next to her laughing and crying.
She pulls me again.
Into our new life.
Okay, this is a game: Name the song. It's an oldie. There are lots of references but it isn't exact... more like AFTER the fact...
I like this one.
Have fun.
She comes here for supper after work. That's how we met. She complimented me on my pot pie. I make it special for her on the first and third Thursdays; her favorite. She can stay a little later on those days so I add in pecan pie. Another favorite. And she wears blue. MY favorite. Seem silly? Maybe to you, but when you're this in love, it makes perfect sense. It wasn't at first sight- maybe second cup of coffee. She noticed me ~ with my dirty apron and my sweaty hair from bustin my hump all day over the grille. Someone as beautiful as her... made me feel like somebody new; special. I look in to her eyes and drown. I hear her giggle and feel drunk. To think of holding her, kissing her; just once? I think I'd lose my mind in happiness.
So every day we meet here. Been doing it for a long time 462 days. We make plans to run away; to Georgia ~ Savannah. Yep, we'll each take one bag and get on a bus and never look back
She's had to stay because of Larry. More so because of Nate, her son. So we just sit together. Hold hands across the table, listen to the music and laugh about our life together, our future. At last, with Nate being older, she will let go. She's gonna come with me. She can set it all up with her sister Nancy. Nate will finish his last six months of school and she can be with me.
Oh ~ here comes the rain. We need it, so I can't complain. It smells so sweet and clean. I can see her. her bus. Just a half a block a way. She'll get down and raise her umbrella; red polka dots. I bought it at Woolworth's last year when she got caught in a downpour. She'll turn her collar to the cold and damp and begin her "trot". She looks like a little girl when she does that. I see her small limp and frown a little. It came after Larry didn't get supper on time. Now he throws her china and screams because he got in so much trouble. He seems to think that is okay. That and the pulling on her arms or smacks... but I don't think so. And I KNOW she doesn't. I think when we get to Georgia, I will make baths for her. I'll bring her a glass of wine. I'll tell her she's beautiful and I will leave a plate for her in the oven for whenever she wants it. She deserves to be spoiled.
Jeanne steps off the curb. She sees me, smiles and raises her arms. A bag. She's carrying a bag. My heart skips around between my ribs; giggling and my butterflies in my belly smile. My whole life is a few steps away. Even in the early evening, she seems to glow. I will be glad to get out of this dingy city. It gets so dark so early now. The headlights from the cars spill by and cast lving spotlights on my angel. Every day she looks more beautiful. More mine. I'm so lucky. I can't stop the smile on my face from spreading like ivy. I wave back and go to the door. I want to hold it for her. I want to welcome her into my life. My arms. I hear my heart beating in my chest. My mouth is dry and my knees are weak. My Jeanne. My love.
I don"t see it. I hear it ~ an angry wailing of tires as the car roared around the corner. "Toofast~toofast" I heard myself shout. I begin through the door toward Jeanne. But she is gone in a blurr of light. I see her shoe, skittering along the pavement bloody with a broke heel. What is coming toward me is a doll, cast off and flailing. It's face is cracked and smeared. My beautiful picture perfect Jeanne. Broken. There is a growl and a blinding flash as the car shifts its gaze to me. This is all in a matter of seconds. I see the driver. I know it is Larry. He's glaring hatefully at me and I understand that he's mashing the skinny pedal to the floor. I have nowhere to hide. Jeanne collapses at my feet. My body instinctively lowers to meet/catch her. I want to help her. I watch her sweet, gentle body fold obscenely under tires and hulking metal. She is already dead. I close my eyes against the smell of warm pennies and angry gas.
There is a crunching noise and a scream; my last. I feel metal biting, breaking my flesh and bones. I stretch to reach for her fingers-she had them painted for our trip. Blue. Light blue. Now they are shattered and smeared with street dirt. Darkness and the heavy thunk of my body being destroyed are brief and intense. A disappointed cold creeps up threatening to pull me away. This is my new life. My work, my heart, our dreams, all crushed.
Softly I hear my name. I smell lavender. Her smell. I open my eyes. No pain. She is leaning over me. Her face is lovely. Smooth. Picture perfect.
"My Love" she cries in a whisper. But there are no tears.
I can touch her cheek; her perfect mouth. She leans in and kisses me for the first time but never the last.
It's raining.
There are lights and sirens but far away. She stands and tugs at my hand, pulling me forward in to a warm new light; life. I look back and sure enough, there we are; crumpled and bloody, our fingers just touching. Larry is on his knees next to her laughing and crying.
She pulls me again.
Into our new life.
Okay, this is a game: Name the song. It's an oldie. There are lots of references but it isn't exact... more like AFTER the fact...
I like this one.
Have fun.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Blog etiquette is to not complain, get mad or do anything "unsavory"... so I'll just say:
My whole world just got rocked. I swear I'll be back. I just need a couple more days to figure out some things. No worries. I'm fine... and we'll get some quality time together soon. I just need... to catch my breath.
Ever been there? I know you have.
Thanks for the positive vibes and cyber hugs. You guys are really great. Let's catch up soon.. this weekend? It seems so far away. I miss this place and I miss you. I write late at night but just can't get back to type it up. I suppose a little marinating is good for the story. ;)
Well for those of you in the know:
Pour.
Hurry.
Much love
Tessa
My whole world just got rocked. I swear I'll be back. I just need a couple more days to figure out some things. No worries. I'm fine... and we'll get some quality time together soon. I just need... to catch my breath.
Ever been there? I know you have.
Thanks for the positive vibes and cyber hugs. You guys are really great. Let's catch up soon.. this weekend? It seems so far away. I miss this place and I miss you. I write late at night but just can't get back to type it up. I suppose a little marinating is good for the story. ;)
Well for those of you in the know:
Pour.
Hurry.
Much love
Tessa
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