Stories are Being Continued

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Overwhelmed, Heartbroken, Beautiful

A small face peeked out from behind a torn piece of corrugated tin. A grimy hand rose to scratch the runny little nose. Someone coming. She turned back inside the old, broken building and scooted into the back.

"Mommy wake up now," the little girl crooned, but Mommy just wouldn’t wake up.  In fact, she didn't move at all which was funny because her Mommy always was busy doing something.   Mommy wasn't even blinking.  Maybe if I just let her sleep a while longer, and when she wakes up she'll be better then.  Jackie heard voices approaching. She scurried back to the torn flap of tin and peeked out. Two women.  Could be rebels, there wasn’t any law enforcement for miles. She shrank back to let them pass.  Outside, one of the women saw the movement and tracked it with her gun.

Lake,Truck,Cathedral

Lake Winnipesaukee was a few miles down the road from where I grew up. Whenever we went to Laconia we would drive along and then cross the lake.  As a child I spent an awful lot of time watching the lake pass by from my backseat window.  We swam, water-skied and boated on it in the summer; then we skated, fished and played hockey on it all winter.  We took pictures of Lake Winnipesaukee all year long, but most dramatically in the fall, of course.  When the patchwork of color reflects back from the mirrored lake it’s exhilarating to see.  Just thinking about it makes me want some hot apple cider with a cinnamon stick in it.  I want to put some fluffy socks and a sweater on then curl up on the couch with a good book, but it‘s 90 degrees out and the humidity here in Georgia is about 83% today. 

Howl, New England, Antiques

She drove down the coast, looking at the scenery and listening to the radio.  Autumn brought so many vivid colors to the New England coast, it was truly a blessing to drive along enjoying the bounty.   A day spent in quiet reflection.  Somedays she liked to just drive.  No destination in mind, she would end up wherever she was and come back when she got ready to.  There’s something warm and fuzzy about seeing the bright colors on the trees, scarecrows in overalls stuffed with straw on front porches and bright orange pumpkins on every step.  Richly colored Indian Corn pinned to the front door of the antique shop on Main St.  There were apples and jugs of cider for sale at every farm stand.

Mountain, Pristine, Journey

The White Mountain Auto Road is only open a few months of the year.  They don't bill themselves as having "The World's Worst Weather" for nothing.   The conditions are so unpredictable that the road is only open from mid-May to mid-October.  Usually.  The road seems barely wide enough in places for two cars to pass, and the two car theory is particularly frightening when one of them is a big honkin’ SUV.

Invert, Collate, Transverse

Anna Yulevic looks at her hand, really studying it.  Grime is etched in each fold of skin, under each nail a black line of filth.  She looks at the other one, holds it up to the light - same thing.  A line of drool slips out of the corner of her mouth and slides slowly down her chin.  She does not notice.
How different her future had been planned.  How different her life had been. 

Blood, Red, Hands

I stood in the kitchen chopping up food
to go in the pot and somehow taste good,
While I crooned to my baby and watch for my son
(who thinks stopping the toilet with Barbie is fun).

Porch, Eagle, Binoculars

The old man sat in the old wooden rocker on his back porch all afternoon.  His friends used to call him Red, due to the hair that used to grace the top of his head.  It was mostly gone now, and what was left sure wasn’t red anymore.  The friends were gone too, but he hardly cared about that.   Red had a great backyard; it oversaw a small lake and part of a mountain range.  Tango, North Dakota.   About as far north in the USA as you can get without coming south again, he used to joke.   You could hold a camera up out here and take a perfect picture without ever looking in the viewfinder.

Yellow, Mountain, Lipstick

There is a yellow scarf in that shop and I want it.  Just, yellow.  In an open air market in a large village in Africa.  I forget the name.  Elephants trumpet in the distance, the natives treat them like family.  Monkeys chatter and scold from the nearby trees, fussing at the dogs and goats that come too close.

Fly, Heart, Barracuda

The baby Greens struggle out of the sand and run a gamut across the sand into the surf.  They follow the light of the moon, her gentle rays guiding them to the ocean.  Sustenance.

Many of the turtle hatchlings are snatched up before they ever reach the waters edge; still more get plucked out of the surf by all manner of predators.  Those that make the open sea swim on, not knowing anything but pure bliss: this is what their kind was meant to do. Wish you could live the life of a Green Sea Turtle for a while?

Give me 3 words

3 words.  Give me 3 words and I'll write one short story or poem a day using them.  Email or comment them to me.  If there are no messages any given day I will provide my own or ask friends to step up.  I'm not likely to be here on weekends, but one never knows. Stories will be short, 300-1000 words or who knows?  Help me out and give me 3 words!