Sunday, December 16, 2012

The End of the World

It's time for the December blog prompt at Absolute Write
This month's prompt:
The End (of the World)
Yes, since the predicted Mayapocalypse only fails to materialize once every 500 years or so we are piggybacking on it. Write what you will about the end of the world (those disinclined to eschatology can write about "the end" in a broader sense). Hopefully, after these ends of the world as we know it, we'll all feel fine.

Below my story there are more. Check out the links of my fellow blogging buddies from Absolute Write.


“Do you still hear that hummin’ in your head Dave?”
Dave nodded yes and the two men continued their morning chores in the barn. Dave and Jimmy were brothers and had taken over their daddy’s farm after he passed five years ago. They were hard working men struggling to keep the farm going to support their wives and children along with Maw and Old Uncle Ned. Jimmy spoke to his older brother again,
“You know Uncle Ned’s in the kitchen talkin’ about Nam. I think the metal plate in his head come loose again.”
Uncle Ned didn’t have a metal plate in his head, it was just the family’s way of noting Uncle Ned might be in one of his ‘spells’.
“So I locked up his shotgun just in case he decides to go chasin’ Charlie.”
Jimmy heard nothing from Dave which disappointed him. He would rather chatter through the day than listen to the mysterious droning hum they all started to hear a couple days ago, giving them all a headache. Today especially, it seemed to be louder and now followed by a rotten egg odor. But Dave appeared to be in one of his quiet moods. Jimmy looked up towards his brother. He wasn’t there. Jimmy turned around to look for him. Dave was standing in the barn doorway with his hands on his hips.
“Dave what ……..”
Dave held up his right arm and motioned with his hand for Jimmy to come to the barn door. He put his shovel down and walked over. Standing next to Dave, he followed his eyes towards the pasture that was filled with their dairy cows. It was December and the cows were out grazing because they hadn’t seen any snow, the temperature had been hovering in the high 50’s all month long. It was almost Christmas but it felt like Spring. Anything was possible with Northeast Ohio weather.
Both men stood watching the cows in the pasture. Every one of them slowly walked in their own little circle, they’d wobble a little bit and then fall over. Once on the ground they’d shake their heads, get back up and start all over again.
“They look like they’ve been on an all night drunk. Some day we might laugh at this but right now I’m scared enough to piss my pants.”
Before Dave could respond Jimmy’s two little girls ran towards him from out of the chicken coop. Their faces were streaked with tears and they were visibly shaking. He told them to go to the main house,
“Your momma’s in there with Grama.”
He turned to Dave, he wasn’t by the barn door. Jimmy had to search for him. He found that he had moved closer to the pasture watching the cows. Dave turned around and looked towards Jimmy, not at him but he seemed to be looking through him. Jimmy turned to see three boys running out of the woods, two of them were Dave’s boys and one his own son. The boys were wide eyed with fear. Before they could speak Jimmy sent them to the house.
The family was all together today decorating the Christmas tree, the women were baking in the kitchen and Uncle Ned was sitting in his favorite chair talking to no one in particular.
“Dave, I’m going to go tie up the dogs. There’s something strange going on with the animals and I don’t want them runnin’ loose.”
Again Dave was not where Jimmy last saw him. He spun around again looking for his brother. He spotted him at the front door of the house. They each stood still for a moment and then Dave faded into the front door.

“Doctor we have a situation in Mr. Douglas’s room.”
Dr. Howard Penner was making his rounds with a group of fresh interns. He asked the nurse that called out to him,
“Did you have to restrain him?”
“Sorry doctor we had to, this is a bad one today.”
“Okay, hold off on his medication until I have the chance to talk to him.”
Then he addressed his interns,
“You won’t be going in to see this patient but here is his file. Study it and watch from the observation room.”
Dr. Penner gave his students a chance to get to the observation room then walked into James Douglas’s room. James was restrained on his bed with his familiar wild disheveled look of confusion. This patient was a challenge for the doctor but he would persist, he never gave up on a patient and wasn’t about to start now,
“James can we talk?”
“My name is Jimmy.”
“Sorry Jimmy, did you have your dream again?”
“It’s not a dream. Just let me go back to the farm. Please my family needs me.”
Dr. Penner proceeded to walk Jimmy through the events that happened on December 21, 2012. He painstakingly went over that day with him almost once a week because one day he knew he would reach Jimmy and then hopefully they could move forward.

The interns watched intently as they read the file of James Douglas. A pocket of methane gas had been building up for days seeping into the air and exploded under the main farm house with his entire family inside. There were no survivors except Jimmy who had run to the barn to tie up their dogs.

Dr. Penner stopped for a moment and asked Jimmy,
“Do you understand what I just told you about December 21, 2012 Jimmy?”
The room was silent for about five minutes. Dr. Penner waited quietly for Jimmy to respond. He watched as his patients eyes darted around the hospital room. The wild confusion, the product of one of his vivid dreams, seemed to quell. No longer was he straining to free himself from the padded restraints attached to his bed. He took a deep breath, tears welled up in his eyes and he finally spoke,
“December 21, 2012, that’s the day my world ended.”


Check these out!

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Giant step to the point of no return

It is time for my monthly contribution to this months blog chain prompt over at Absolute Write.

This month's prompt:

Ghouls, ghost and things that go bump in the night. Old Hallows Eve, Dia de los Muertos and Halloween. October is the month where the veil between our world and the Other thins. So this month is about those things beyond our world, be they scary, funny or anything in between. Write wherever the prompt inspires you,
fiction or non-fiction, prose or poetry. Do try and keep things at a PG-13 level, though.

My brain has a hard time multitasking when it comes to my writing. It isn't letting much out except my novel because I've been fooling around with it too long. So my post is another excerpt from the novel that has taken over my brain.
Please don't forget my fellow bloggers below. Have a look at what they came up with this month.


“Are we able to speak freely Stephen?”
“Yes, I told them to give us some time to access our new patient. James, how did you arrange this?”
James watched Stephen run his hand through his hair and then stopped to grab onto a fist full, his face clouded over with uncertainty. His other hand slapped his chest and he unconsciously gathered his shirt into his fist. He was starting to panic.
“Stephen you wanted this knowledge. I can show you so much. Things you would never believe. This man laying here is a drifter, no family and an aneurism in his brain ready to burst. He would have been dead in less than a month, he’s perfect for our plan to proceed.”
Dr. James Matsuo and Dr. Stephen Ellis had been friends and colleagues for almost ten years. Immersing themselves in the world of molecular and human genetics, developmental biology and neuroscience who became know as top in their fields. They were the government’s first and immediate choice for what was quickly becoming a global crisis.
Stephen knew he had already taken several small steps towards never turning back. This man on the exam table in a drug induced coma represented his giant step to the point of no return. Science and its discoveries are intriguing and exciting. Unraveling what others could not was an indescribable high. That is how this project started and then Stephen went a little further, stretching his standards thinner than he had planned. He dropped some of his principles along the way and ended up right where they were now, about to deceive his country. Because when you bend the rules of morality eventually they break and there is no going back.
James knew how Stephen struggled but he pushed a little more,
“I just need an hour without any interference. Can you manage that my friend?”
Time stood still for Stephen, beads of sweat formed on his forehead, he nervously wiped his clammy palms on his white lab coat. He made eye contact with James. He and James had come so far in their field and now with the promise of further advancement he took the giant step,
“Yes. You can do this in an hour?”
“I promise you I can. I haven’t misled you in any way so far. You still trust me right?”
“I have no doubt James.”
James smiled at his long time friend and put his hand on his shoulder, gave him a reassuring squeeze,
“Then you go, brief them on the findings we discussed earlier. And by the time you get back they will think he’s the Alien and never suspect that I am the one they have been looking for these past ten years.”

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

You are the seventh

It's my turn for this months blog chain at Absolute Write.
This month's prompt:
The Number Seven

September used to be the seventh month of the old Roman calendar and its name literally means seventh "month," so this month is brought to you by 7. Write wherever the prompt inspires you, fiction or non-fiction, prose or poetry. Do try and keep things at a PG-13 level, though.

I have been working on my novel, so that is what has been in my head. I decided to post an excerpt. Pretty much because I couldn't think of anything else. I may be stretching the prompt to it's limit. Oh and this is my first novel so be gentle. I can take constructive criticism if you feel inclined to do so.

Below are my fellow bloggers and a link to their posts, please be sure to read more "Seven" posts.


“You are the seventh, there are six others like you.”
Niles felt the mans presence before he heard him speak. But he remained silent with his head down. He sat on the floor of his latest cell. His feet planted in front of him on the cold cement and he rested his arms on his knees letting his hands hang but every once in a while he clenched his fists when he felt himself start to tremble.
‘Six others?’ Niles thought. ‘I’m the seventh like them? Like what?’
He tried to place the pieces of the complicated puzzle together since he found himself living in this nightmare. Some of the pieces were missing, some were upside down. His eyes widened and darted back and forth searching the floor for what, he didn’t know. He refused to acknowledge the man talking to him several feet away from the bars of his new residence.
Niles began to struggle to breathe. It was almost as if he forgotten how to bring air into his lungs and then let it back out. His temples pounded with each beat of his heart and each beat came faster than the last. The man spoke to him,
“Niles you can control that. You are in control of your breathing and heart rate. Search your mind, you have capabilities you’ve never had before. The average person uses only 10% of their brain. You have been given a gift. Think of your brain as a maze with unopened doors. These are doors you can now open.”
The mans tone had a hint of desperation mixed with excitement,
“Niles you have to work with me if you want to leave this place. I’m sorry about Derek. We did everything we could to save him, I promise you that.”
Bringing Derek up so soon after Niles watched him die brought his rage to the forefront again. He was on his hands and knees now, dragging air into his chest. He looked at his arms streaked in dried blood. Memories of the events that unfolded only minutes before flooded his head and pounded on the inside of his skull as if trying to escape. He would like nothing more than to let those memories go but instead he grabbed his head on each side convinced if he let go it would explode. He let out a guttural cry and shouted,
“God damn it.”
“Niles listen to me.”
The man’s hint of desperation remained but did not intensify. His voice stayed calm and continued,
“Niles go to your brain stem. You can find it, think. Do you see it? Open that door, you’ll find what you need.”
Niles heard the man through the pounding in his head and his rasping breath. He didn’t understand but with his hands on either side of his head and his forehead now on the floor he thought of where his brain stem was located.
“The injections……….”
He squeezed his eyes shut.
“Yes that’s the area. Do you see it Niles?”
Niles searched, thick gray clouds twisted and turned making him cry out in pain again. He continued, trying to look past the murky fog. Something was there, he could feel it and the air began to clear. He saw a distorted door knob. It stretched into an oval shape, changed colors from a blurry purple to a muddled black. An array of colors began to pixelate looking for a spot to form as the oval quivered and when it snapped into a round shape the colors followed settling on a brilliant gold.
“Open it Niles.”
The door knob became clear and it turned to the right. Niles saw the door it was attach to which had opened about two inches. He tried to see what was behind it, as he peered through the slight gap the door quickly swung back with such forced that Niles dropped to his side and landed on his back. The swirling gray air disappeared as if sucked out with a vacuum. Niles stopped gasping for air and his breathing became normal. His heart rate slowed down which stopped the thumping in his temples.
He rolled over to his stomach, back on his hands and knees, reached out to the bars of his cell and pulled himself up until he was standing. He stared at the man in front of him as he fought off a wave of nausea. They looked at each other for a moment and when the dizziness in Niles head slowed to a speed he could trust he asked,
“What just happened? What did you bastards do to me?”
“Get some rest, we’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll make sure you get something to eat. We’ll talk Niles, I promise.”
Niles watched him walk down the short hall and out the double swinging doors. He remained where he stood gripping the bars until his knuckle where white, his eyes widened and his jaw clenched shut. Did he just see what he thought he saw? He heard the man’s voice in his head but his mouth did not move.


Friday, August 17, 2012

Tempers were short that day my friends

I've missed the last few blog prompts at Absolute Write but I'm back in with this months prompt:
Fire and Ice
You can do either or both, compare and contrast, or anything else that suggests itself. Write wherever the prompt inspires you, fiction or non-fiction, prose or poetry. Do try and keep things at a PG-13 level, though.
I don't know what happened with this post. I just let it go where it wanted

Tempers were short that day my friends

"Please wait for assistance, please wait for assistance, please wait for assistance." The grocery store wants me to scan my own food, weigh my own produce and put it all in a bag myself? And the Italian bread at the bakery is a dollar more than it was the last time I bought a loaf there? Hold on just one minute. This is an act of lunacy.
Tempers were short in the grocery store that day my friends. Maybe it’s the higher than normal temperature and humidity. Perhaps the lack of rain, maybe we humans, like the outside vegetation, need to be watered once in a while too. Or the earth is preparing itself to crack open and swallow us up on December 21, 2012.
Whatever it was, the grocery store was in chaos. There were employees scattered around helping us morons communicate with the machines that have replaced them. They'll expect us to catch on to this modern age of grocery shopping. Haphazardly scanning our own Rice-a-Roni, with no one there to listen when we say,
"Did you scan that twice? I think you scanned that twice."
The computer generated voice barked out its orders and if we didn’t follow them, lights began to flash and the voice commanded,
“Please wait for assistance.”
A little old man wandered back and forth looking for a cashier, hopelessly lost, wondering how he was going to get his food home. That’s when I snapped, my heartstrings were stretched far enough to take action. I stood on the grocery conveyor belt, swinging my rather expensive Italian bread over my head and screamed,
"We're mad as hell and we're not going to take it anymore.” I pumped my fist in the air for emphasis. And as if they were waiting for a leader to emerge, my minions responded with a resounding yell of defiance. They dropped their 10-pound bags of potatoes, their orange juice and their fabric softeners raising their arms in the air. I had successfully whipped a crowded grocery store into frenzy.
Before I knew it I was lifted in the air, given a mop as my scepter and someone had quickly fashion a tin foil crown to place on my head. For I was the leader of the Great Grocery Store Rebellion of 2012. I pointed my scepter towards the customer service counter and said to the manager,
“You sir, remain where you are and we shall return with a list of our demands.”
We assembled in the frozen food section opening all the doors to feel the arctic blast on our sun soaked sweaty brows. The frozen air mingled with the hot tempers in the aisles, creating swirls around the angry mobs heads providing temporary relief from the equatorial summer heat.
“Ma’am, ma’am?”
“What seems to be the problem?”
A cashier was talking to me, jarring me out of my daydream. She turned off the droning of the computer generated voice and flashing lights. I could see another cashier helping the older gentleman scan his Ben-Gay and prune juice.
“Uhhh, I tried to weigh my bananas.”
“Let me help you with those.”
She pushed some buttons and I didn’t bother paying attention as to how bananas are weighed and scanned. I was too busy turning on my reality brain cells that I had inadvertently let grow dim or perhaps the sweltering heat had affected them because I usually have a pretty good grip on my brain cells. She spoke to me again.
“Can I help you with anything else ma’am?”
‘You can stop calling me ma’am and while you’re at it wipe that fake smile off your face.’ I said with my inside my head voice and with my outside my head voice,
“No thanks, I think I’ve got it from here.”
“Okay, have a great day and try to stay cool.”
What did she mean by that? There is no way she could know my plan of the Great Grocery Store Rebellion of 2012. I thought to myself as I bagged my own groceries. I opened my eyes a little wider, tightened my grip on reality and headed for the exit. As I reached automatic doors it felt like the very gates of hell opened as a wave of at least 200 degrees enveloped me. Tempers were short that day my friends.

Be sure to check out the other bloggers posts!

Participants and posts:
orion_mk3 - (link to this month's post)
Ralph Pines - (link to this month's post)
areteus - (link to this month's post)
Catherine Hall - (link to this month's post)
bmadsen - (link to this month's post)
pyrosama - (link to this month's post)
meowzbark - (link to this month's post)
BBBurke - (link to this month's post)
writingismypassion - (link to this month's post)
wonderactivist - (link to this month's post)
SuzanneSeese - ME (link to this month's post)
randi.lee - (link to this month's post)

Proach - (link to this month's post)
BigWords - (link to this month's post)

magicmint - (link to this month's post)
tomspy77 - (link to this month's post)

Saturday, June 23, 2012

Dear Spammers

This is a blog used for my writing. It isn't very visible and gets very little traffic. It is used to practice my writing and prompts from the writing forum Absolute Write, where I'm guessing you found this blog to begin with.
Here's the thing. I'm not going to publish your spam comments nor will I read them. I will not click on your links. You will be in my spam file and deleted so fast it will make your head spin.
I guess what I'm trying to say is leave my little blog the hell alone. You pain in my ass.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Apocalypse Now!

This month's prompt:
Apocalypse Now!

Give us your take on the zombie apocalypse, be it a zompocalypse story, a zom-com, or a reflection on the genre and the films that inspired it. Write wherever the prompt inspires you, fiction or non-fiction, prose or poetry. Do try and keep things at a PG-13 level, though.

Be sure to check out the rest of my blog chain buddies post below!

As we looked up to the darkening sky, a dingy, gnarled fog stretched over us and separated into murky orange tendrils as if grasping for something just out of reach. They appeared to be stagnant but as we gathered our survival packs and prepared to go underground, you couldn’t help but look back up and they were always a little further across the sky than they were before.
That was how it all began. Rumors ran rampant as to how it started but after several months it didn’t seem to matter anymore. Humanity was lost.
Those that chose to ignore the warning signs were the first to fall. The gruesome fog slowly descended upon anyone that hadn’t sought shelter. Perhaps they were the lucky ones with immediate death. Their decaying bodies littered the streets leaving a constant reminder of the day life as we knew it ended.
We found each other, my underground dwellers and I, on the internet. I knew there were others like me. Ones that can never be too prepared, planners, doers and survivors. We met weekly underground storing provisions. And always enforcing our plan to meet here if anything out of the ordinary happened. It was better to error on the side of caution.
The people in the middle, the ones that managed to miss the initial orange claw of fog were neither dead nor alive. We started to call them Zombies. They were trapped on the surface with the dead. We are able to communicate with others that have gone underground using car batteries to power up the internet. Those that have more technology than us have posted pictures of the middle people, the Zombies.
The orange fog didn’t kill them for they were able to seek some sort of shelter. But they came out and the residual effects are hindering their thought process. They wander, from what we’ve seen. And their eyes are what haunts me. When you look past the blot of gray under the red outline of their eyes they are lifeless and hollow. We are not even sure if they can see. So far they have shown no aggression.
Confinement in our small underground shelter has everyone on edge, some want to leave and take their chances into the unknown. But it has been made clear if anyone were to leave they would not be allowed back. We couldn’t risk being affected by the strange orange fog that fell from the sky. I sometimes find myself wishing someone braver than me would go out there and tell us everything is fine. Tell us we can go back to the way it was. But that can never be.
So I write my final thoughts now, it’s only a matter of time before our rations are gone. Our group is slowly crumbling, tempers flare and the tension is thick. Should I survive I will have my journal to look back on the dark days and perhaps write a novel. But if you find this journal my name, date of birth, family members and picture of them are in the final pages. I also included my last known address. If it isn’t asking too much would you go check to see if I left on my iron?
Participants and posts:
dclary - (link to this month's image)
orion_mk3 - (link to this month's post)
randi.lee - (link to this month's post)
Ralph Pines - http://ralfast/ (link to this month's post)
writingismypassion - (link to this month's post)
dclary - (link to this month's post)
SinisterCola - (link to this month's post)
PragmaticPimp - (link to this month's post)
magicmint - (link to this month's post)
SuzanneSeese - (link to this month's post)
AFord - (link to this month's post)
J.W.Alden - (link to this month's post)
Nissie - (link to this month's post)
MonkeyQueen - (link to this month's post)
areteus - (link to this month's post)
pyrosama - (link to this month's post)
pangalactic - (link to this month's post)
Sweetwheat - (link to this month's post)
Penelope - (link to this month's post)
kimberlycreates - (link to this month's post)
Diana_Rajchel - (link to this month's post)

Thursday, April 5, 2012

The Dead Bunny

We've been having fun over at The Absolute Write Water Cooler. Our blog chain prompt for the month of April:

Dead Bunnies
I'm not even going to touch that one
Write wherever the prompt inspires you, fiction or non-fiction, prose or poetry. Do try and keep things at a PG-13 level, though.

Please make sure to read my fellow blog chain buddies posts (below) and see what they can do when asked to write a post about Dead Bunnies. They are very clever! I might be adding more as the month progresses.

Here is my submission, oh and I really wish this was a fictional piece, sadly it isn't:

The entity remained fixed on the side of her house. Weeds grew against its round concrete frame, every Spring they had to be removed. It was her task. She dreaded that side of the house because of the menacing entity that taunted her. Its foreboding black pipe reached out of its leaden lid and bent at an angle parallel to the muddy earth, it had just enough space around it to shake. And when it shook she would barely have time to run from it before the black hose erupted sending water from the dark depths of the unknown.

One particular year the round concrete frame cracked, a triangular piece went missing and no one could explain its disappearance. Nevertheless, the weeds at their fullest in the beginning of Spring still had to be cleared. Skittish and uncertain, she made her way to the right side of the house to finish the chore.

As she came closer, her body tensed. Something moved in the weeds. Had the entity amassed some new devilry? Had its evil presence seeped into the untouched soil? Had the weeds become alive? She was letting her imagination lead her down a frightening path, she nervously laughed at herself. Then saw movement again.

Taking a step backward, she surveyed her surroundings. Children were playing across the street, her husband was mowing the lawn and neighbors were doing exactly what she was doing, pulling weeds, she felt silly. She boldly stepped forward. She ever so quietly she peered into the mangled foliage. A smile came to her face. It was a bunny, so small that if you gently cupped your hands together the furry little animal would rest snuggly there.

She had no intention of scooping the bunny in the palms of her hands but she did stepped toward it to get a closer look. She startled the animal and it hopped away. But where? It seemed to have disappeared, until she heard the splash.

The birds stopped in mid song, crickets ceased their chirping and the cicada’s hum went silent. Her eyes grew wide as she realized the horror brought from her actions. The cute baby bunny jumped down the sump pump. She could hear more splashing as the bunny struggled in the deep darkness of the round, concrete cistern. The sounds of nature returned as if crying out to her to help one of their own. And she ran across the yard, she ran to the sound of the lawnmower. Waving her hands in the air, calling out to her husband. Having his attention, she ran back to the right side of the yard and he followed her, not knowing what to expect. He could not understand her incoherent babbling. The children across the street followed her husband. The neighbor’s heads snapped up from their yard work. She had successfully created a scene.

Once her husband caught up to her he found her kneeling next to the sump pump. She explained to him the horror that had unfolded. They both turned an ear towards the triangular opening and heard nothing but silence. He looked over at her and then the children that had gathered behind them. His face told her everything. He could not open it in front of the inquisitive children. The risk of having them mimic him in the future was too great. He had to use the situation to explain the dangers of the sump pump. He explained how deep it went down into the earth and how very heavy the cement lid was. She listened to him and she knew. She knew the bunny was dead. Forever entombed in the sump pump.

The Tomb

Participants and posts:
orion_mk3 - (link to this month's post)
KatieJ - (link to this month's post)
kiwiviktor81 - (link to this month's post)
Nissie - (link to this month's post)
SuzanneSeese - (link to this month's post)
pyrosama - (link to this month's post)
dclary - (link to this month's post)
randi.lee - (link to this month's post)
Turndog-Millionaire - (link to this month's post)
julzperri - (link to this month's post)
Penelope - (link to this month's post)
AFord - (link to this month's post)
Araenvo - (link to this month's post)
areteus - (link to this month's post)
magicmint - (link to this month's post)
writingismypassion - (link to this month's post)
Whisky - (link to this month's post)
Anarchicq - (link to this month's post)
Ralph Pines - (link to this month's post)
Joliedupre - (link to this month's post)
Tomspy77 - (link to this month's post)

Monday, March 26, 2012

It's a major award

How awesome is this? I won an award. I was chosen by my new blogging friend from Absolute Write, Diane Carlisle. Thank you Diane! I am the recipient of the prestigious Liebster Award.
This has been traditionally awarded to honor those blogs which motivate and inspire us. It is also granted to those blog authors who have accumulated 200 followers or less. Its purpose is to summon new followers and increase awareness of other noteworthy blogs.

I accept and will follow the steps in order to promote a continuum of this worthy cause. Here is my list of chosen recipients for this award:

Relax Max < he changes the title of his blog every other day
Mike at Too Many Mornings
Reflections on a Middle-Aged Fat Woman
Lobo at Predator Press < I don't think you can even comment over there any more, but it's a good blog.

To Accept the Award:
  • Thank the person who nominated you on your blog and link back to them.
  • Nominate up to 5 others for the award.
  • Let them know by commenting on their blog.
  • Post the award on your blog.
So there you have it check these blogs out they are worth a look! And thanks again Diane.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Brewing Storms

This month's prompt:
Rainy Days

Write wherever the prompt inspires you. It can be fiction or non-fiction, all wet or high and dry, mushy mud or hard-packed earth. If you want to go with snow, hail, boiling hellrain, biblical frograin, or some other kind of precipitation, knock yourself out.
Here is my addition to the blog chain and don't forget to check out the other blogs and there Rainy Days prompts below.

Brewing Storms

“Your mom is having chest pains.”

“Dad, please call an ambulance.”

“Nah, I’m just going to take her to ‘our’ emergency room.”

“WAIT. I’m going with you, pick me up.”

Dad then hung up the phone. I knew I had 5 minutes tops to call my brother, get my purse and shoes, remember 10th grade CPR class, explain to my husband and boys that if I ever have chest pains it’s okay to call 911 and not to do what grandpa does and would you please run to the driveway with me to try to stop him. While I was rambling on, running through the house like a chicken with its head cut off, I was also on the phone with my brother, who was talking to me,

“Don’t let them out of your driveway. Just call 911.”

And I was whispering to my husband,

“Have you seen my shoes?”

My husband threw up his hands,

“Jesus Christ.”

A crackle of thunder put a slight pause on our chaos. We all looked up at the midnight blue horizon. Clusters of gray and black colors found each other and gathered above us. And as if the sky knew it had our attention, flashes of lightening followed the forming ominous clouds. Mom and dad pulled into our driveway.

I ran to the car waving my cell phone as the first raindrops began to spill out of the swelling clouds,

“I can call 911 right now, you can just stay in the car and they will be here in less than ten minutes.”

I had inadvertently hung up on my brother. I also realized that mom and dads windows were up. By the time I made it to the car dad was in reverse. So I jumped in the back seat as the car rolled out of the driveway. I started to explain to my parents, which wasn’t the first time for either of them,

“You can’t fool around with chest pains, we really should call 911.”

Their come back is always the same. The emergency room they frequent when there is anything to do with the heart is the one that they will eventually be sent to because chest pains and heart related aliments mean a 24-hour evaluation. And this emergency facility has overnight accommodations. So they’re saving a trip. While they are explaining this to me I’m sitting in the back seat and dad is shooting me looks through the rear view mirror, I was quite certain he was ready to say,

“Don’t make me pull this car over.”

I called my brother to tell him that I too, was now in the car settling in for a half hour drive.

“Jesus Christ.” He exclaimed.

He hung up on me.

The rain that was just starting to fall when I was waving around my cell phone was now beating down on the cars windshield. The sky that once held the bright shining sun was enveloped in darkness. The clouds had burst open unloading their heavy burden upon us with a rain and hail mixture. I sat back in my seat and let dad give his full attention to the road. While others pulled over under bridges to wait out the downpour dad continued. My brother called back,

“When you get there make sure you tell them mom is having chest pains, they have to take her right away.”

“Of course I’m going to tell them that, I know to tell them she’s having chest pains.”

“Oh.” Mom interrupted. “I’m not having chest pains now.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. I couldn’t tell if I was hearing the hail pounding on the roof of the car or if my brother was banging his head against the wall.

I assured him that I had this and he said he would meet us there. We made it through the storm and to the favorite emergency room door. Mom and I walked in and out of the side of my mouth, under my breath, I told her,

“I’m going to hold you by the arm, look sicker, so they take us right away after I tell them you are having chest pains.”

They took mom to a room and dad joined her. While a nurse helped mom settle in I left to wait for my brother. When he arrived we just looked at each other and shook our heads. We stood in silence for a few minutes and watched the raindrops fall in the puddles outside the windows of the waiting room. The dark sky that hung over us just minutes ago began to clear and the sun found a gap in the clouds to take a peek at what it had missed.

“That was a big storm.”


I’ve heard that there comes a point in a family’s life that the children become the parents. We have not reached that point. Mom is fine now, she had 90% blockage in one artery that was taken care of during her catheterization with three stints.

Participants and posts:
orion_mk3 - (link to this month's post)
Bogna - (link to this month's post)
Ralph Pines - (link to this month's post)
pyrosama - (link to this month's post)
Nissie - (link to this month's post)
Lyra Jean - (link to this month's post)
Domoviye - (link to this month's post)
magicmint - (link to this month's post)
areteus - (link to this month's post)
julzperri - (link to this month's post)
hillaryjacques - (link to this month's post)
AFord - (link to this month's post)
randi.lee - (link to this month's post)
J. W. Alden - (link to this month's post)
SuzanneSeese - ME!
Turndog-Millionaire - (link to this month's post)
Tomspy77 - (link to this month's post)
ronbwriting - (link to this month's post)

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Because of what you said

This months blog chain assignment.

This month's prompt:

Second Chances

Again, go wherever the prompt takes you. It can be fiction or non-fiction; the second chance in question can be a mushy valentine or a 1-up in Super Mario (or anything in between).

Long ago I was given a clear message by a total stranger. I think of her more and more as the years go by and wonder if she has any idea how she impacted my life. I don't think she does. I write about it often, this is my short and sweet version:

It’s been at least 30 years since last we spoke, your face has faded in my memory. Did you have short brown hair? I think you did. I would not be able to pick you out in a crowd and I don’t know your name. But I would like to thank you because of what you said.

When I found you sitting on the windowsill at the top of the stairs you told me you had to rest and asked me to join you. Out the window the sun was shining at it’s brightest just before it set. I had the choice to squint into it or look down the dark stairwell. But then you began to speak, drawing my attention to you, having me look neither left or right but straight ahead. That was why I was there, to listen to what you had to say. Because sometimes when we are young a stranger will tell you things you already know but they can find the crack in the wall you’ve put up to ignore those that love you.

My life was going in the wrong direction and I didn’t think I had the strength to stop it. The words of your journey mirrored mine, you couldn’t have been much older than me but you had made the mistake I was about to make. I don’t know what brought us together that day but because of what you said, you change my life.

More second chances to read!
Participants and posts:
Turndog-Millionaire - (link to this month's post)
orion_mk3 - (link to this month's post)
Ralph Pines - (link to this month's post)
magicmint - (link to this month's post)
Tomspy77 - (link to this month's post)
LilGreenBookworm - (link to this month's post)
LiterateParakeet - (link to this month's post)
AFord - (link to this month's post)
writingismypassion - (link to this month's post)
Bogna - (link to this month's post)
kiwiviktor81 - (link to this month's post)
randi.lee - (link to this month's post)
These Mean Streets - (link to this month's post)
areteus - (link to this month's post)
Domoviye - (link to this month's post)
pyrosama - (link to this month's post)
SuzanneSeese - (link to this month's post)
julzperri - (link to this month's post)
Nissie - (link to this month's post)
in_one - (link to this month's post)
sambgood - (link to this month's post)