Saturday, January 25, 2014


The space of a breath
The skip of a heart
The blink of an eye
The bolt of lightning
The crash of waves
The snap of fingers

"Tick," said the clock. 

Friday, January 17, 2014

TwitterShort Challenge #1

I had gone down to the beach to get a quiet reprieve. Chemo had taken the wind right out of my sails this time. The pounding surf always calmed my frazzled nerves. And this excursion was no different.

I loved the sunlight on my shoulders. I loved the squish of the sand between my toes. The smell of the salt in the air seemed a balm to my soul.

And then chaos.

I didn’t have time to fully register what happened. Before I could blink I was knocked on my ass to the sand. As I sat there dazed, the thought occurred to me that only an anal bleaching session would be able to remove the amount of sand that just got kicked up my shorts.

“Goddammit Trevor. You’re such an asshole!” said Voice.

“Learn how to throw a damn foot ball for once,” replied Trevor.

Things came into focus as two boys came over. Voice said, “I’m so sorry for Trevor plowing into you like that. He needs things like this to remind him the world doesn’t revolve around him.”

“Heeeeeyyyy!” wailed Trevor.

“That’s fine,” I said. I tried to get back to my feet. Voice reached out a hand. “Thanks,” I said as I grabbed it. It was coarse, but the grasp was gentle.

“My name’s Jay,” he said.

“Nice to meet you, Jay. I’m Cathy.” I noticed his well-worn shirt read ECONOMIC MIGRATION. “What’s that mean?”

Jay looked down at his shirt. “Oh, haha. This? Nobody knows. It was a garage band I played with a few years back. You wouldn’t be interested in tossing around the football with us for a bit, would you?”

“Maybe next time,” I replied.

His smile made me completely forget about the darkening bruise on my backside and the amount of sand lodged there.

I opened my bag that held my shoes and magically produced a Sharpie. I grabbed the football and wrote my phone number in dark black ink.

“Next time,” he repeated.

I turned and headed up the beach toward home.



Sunday, January 12, 2014


A muse in flame
One with
No hope of
Ever finding that spark again. 

Friday, January 10, 2014


"You won't let go, right?" she said anxiously. She only stared ahead as we moved along with our group. 
I glanced over at her and gave her a grin. "I won't," I said. Her hand was already in mine. 
The tour guide had let us know that up ahead we would stop. We were Lord knows how deep inside the cavern, and they were going to shut off the lights. And here she was about to collide with anxiety. 
The group bunched up, and the guide told everyone to close their eyes. 
"Promise me," she whispered, closing her eyes. 
I turned to face her and grabbed both of her hands. "Promise."
Then off went the lights. 
Her grip tightened immediately when the guide said we could open our eyes. The cavern was as dark as pitch. There was nothing to be seen. I leaned into her and rested my forehead on hers. In that moment no one else was there. I rubbed my nose on her cheek and leaned close to her ear. "I'm right here," I whispered. I heard her exhale. I felt her tears fall onto my face. My lips found her cheek, beside the corner of her eye. I gave her a light kiss to wipe them away. "So brave," I said in honest admiration. 
Then the guide instructed us to close our eyes again as she brought up the lights. And moment was over. The lights came up and I watched as she opened her eyes again. This time accomplishment and relief shined in her eyes instead of fear. A slight smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. 
"I promised," I said. 
"I know," she replied. 
She pressed up to her tiptoes, and kissed me.