Tuesday, March 31, 2015

TwitterShort Challenge 8


                “I’ll send a postcard,” the Vanisher said.  “After that, you have ten hours. If you don’t walk when I show up, your window is gone.” 

                My heart was racing as the thought of escape finally seemed within reach.

                “Deal.” I immediately handed him the eighteen thousand dollars I had been hiding.

                After five tense weeks of waiting, a postcard from Pike’s Peak showed up in our mailbox. “Your great-aunt Nina is traveling again,” Levi said with disdain as he flung the postcard towards me like a Frisbee. 

                T-minus ten hours

                My mind was hard to calm. I wondered what kind of magic would be used to get me out of here. Boiling cauldrons with dwarf root, a box of frogs, and a lucky rabbit’s foot? No matter. I didn’t care. I unconsciously touched my cheek bone to feel that the swelling had gone down. The bruise wouldn’t be far behind. But it didn’t matter. I had a future.

                When Levi finally passed out from painkillers and gin, I gathered the few things I could carry with me for my escape. In the kitchen junk drawer, between the silly straws and the Elmer’s glue, was a pocket knife. I jammed it into my front jean pocket and raced up the stairs. I threw a few clothes into a tattered laundry basket. Knowing time was running short, I hustled as fast as I dared without making too much noise. My hand was on the ornate glass doorknob to our house when I realized there was one last cathartic thing I’d forgotten to do.

                I put the laundry basket on the travertine of the foyer and headed for his study. There was Levi’s beautiful antique hurdy-gurdy. I raised the beautiful inlaid wood instrument above my head and brought it down as hard as I could on the mahogany floor. It was instantaneously reduced to thousands of splinters. The noise should have alerted him. It didn’t. 

                I grabbed the basket and sprinted down the driveway. 

                The Vanisher was there, just as he’d promised. 

                “Your necklace,” he said when I entered the van.

                “What?” I replied as I brought my hand up to my throat.

                “You’re gonna have to give me your necklace.”

                “Oh. Right, right.” I unclasped the honeybee necklace made of jet and gold that Levi expected me to wear at all times. I’d grown so used to it that I had forgotten it was there. The simple task of removing the delicate thing made it feel as if a pallet of bricks had been removed from my shoulders. I gave the Vanisher the trinket and looked back out the window one last time. A single silver birch leaf that hadn’t given in to winter’s grasp finally let go. Every tree from our yard was finally bare. 

                The metaphor was unsettling.




Sunday, March 29, 2015


Unsure footing
Doubtful thoughts
I don't know I'm beautiful
Unless you tell me
Because my mirror lies 
My demons roar
Only your voice 
Is louder than theirs


Howls and blows
Wicked and ugly
The storm that rolls through
My soul
Blackened clouds match
My blackened heart
Winds shred trees and hope
And I'm left to drown
In the deluge 

Thursday, March 26, 2015

And Lucifer Laughs

Deep in the hell pit
Everyone turns away
Forsaken heart
Empty mind
Abandoned soul
There is no cavalry
Escape is impossible
Death is inevitable 

Wednesday, March 25, 2015


Finally able 
To let the drug do its work
Content to let the fuzzy
Eat at my brain 
I barely have time 
To pull out the needle 
Before your world melts
And mine rushes in
Playing chicken with
A dark-winged angel

Tuesday, March 24, 2015


Flying or falling 
The wind screams in my ears 
Eyes blinded by tears
Breath stolen
It seems I've been suspended for years
Still waiting to hit bottom 

Monday, March 23, 2015


Still frozen
This dungeon that never thawed
Where is the sun
And the warm breeze
That promises spring
I'm stuck in a 
Forever winter
Animation suspended
Growth stunted 
Frostbite taking over
And death shall follow 

Saturday, March 21, 2015

The Whole of Me

Just something in my eye
Nothing to look at here
Could be just a word or two
Made my heart swell 
And eyes overflow 
It's a temporary thing
A small speck of something
Making my eyes water
An allergic reaction
To kindness

Thursday, March 19, 2015


The train left hours ago
I just can't bring myself
To leave this bench 
I watched it roll away
Tears fell as it took
My hopes and heart with it
I just don't have the strength
To leave this station 
So I wait for the next one 
And pray my legs find 
Strength to stand 

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

The Green in Her Heart

Eyes and jealousy
Invader's manifesto
You can stay 
If you follow the rules
Stay and watch 
Greens turn to blues
Then red
Then black
Because staying is a quick death
While leaving is a slow one 
It's a rare moment
To be able to choose your demise 

Saturday, March 14, 2015

Color Me Cariad

Go ahead
Claim what's yours
Make me your darling
Your sweet
Your beloved
Paint me as your lover
Your confidant
Your friend
Take me as your heart
Your soul
Your everything 

The Porch

Rocking comfortably
Back and forth 
Easy breezes
Soft honeysuckle
The sunset is beautiful
I close my eyes
And don't breathe in again 

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

TwitterShort Challenge 7

                We went to the museum about once a month. Hector would hold my hand as we rushed from display to display, his boyhood eagerness for knowledge hurrying his steps. Everything here was scavenged from the surface.  He would laugh and point at the lampshade embroidered with a picture of a camel. His eyes would shine at the pictures of elephants and turtles and tigers. He reenacted casting a fishing line when he saw the fishing rod and tackle. His cheeks would color when we walked past the mannequins dressed in shimmery negligees and ladies’ dresses. He would talk about how one day he’d drive as fast as he could when we saw the windshield wiper and driver’s side door from an old car. 

                I followed Hector as he darted back and forth between exhibits. Suddenly, he stopped and looked at me. “MeeMaw, what is your favorite thing here?” he asked. It was difficult to choose, but I always seemed drawn to the one that held the old Avon lady carpet bag. There were pictures and trinkets reminiscent of a much, much simpler time placed in beautiful glass cases. But knowing he would not understand nostalgia so much, I got a small bit of mischief in my eye and said, “YOU are!”

                Hector laughed and raced ahead. He was headed for his favorite display. The one with the most tragic of stories. His cheerful mood grew solemn as he approached. “Tell me about the Million and One MeeMaw.”

                The skull in the jar was a brutal reminder of the tragedies that happened after the earthquake. There were hundreds of tokens left in tribute to those who died. Scattered around the jar were bottles of rum and tequila, a child’s small plastic bracelet, and candles in various colors and heights. There was even an old twenty dollar bill printed in 2008. 

                When the earthquake happened, the leaking radiation proved the surface was not a viable living option. Half the population went underground. The other half took to the skies. Some chose not to deal at all. 

                On the wall behind the shrine were a million and one names carved into the stone. These people who died were not just poetically just mercy killings of someone with a broken heart. These were people who did not want to move forward. They drank a poison and had their remains cremated. The last fleet of blimps to leave the surface took the ashes and scattered them throughout the land in the hopes that the soil would once again be fertile.

                “How long until we can go to the Surface, MeeMaw? ”

                “I’m not sure, Lovie. Now, how about we go home and play some catch with your wiffle ball while your Mommy finishes lunch?”

                Hector grabbed my hand. We exited the museum and started down the tunnels for home.        

Friday, March 6, 2015

Red's Cross

                The blood had been on the table for about twenty minutes. The edges had already started to dry and darken. I continued to swirl my finger through the middle of the pool like it was finger paint. “What is your name?” I asked her.

                She was slack on her cross, so I knew she was having trouble focusing. I licked my finger and crossed the room. Grabbing her chin roughly, I pressed again. “What… is your name?”

                Groggy eyes tried to focus on my face. I felt the flutter of joy in my stomach as her eyes widened and she recognized where she was. The nervous shine returned to her eyes. Her sharp intake of breath warned me of her impending wail, so I moved my hand from her chin to her mouth, covering it before she could exhale her scream.

                “Tsk tsk tsk…..” I chastised. I leaned into her with my full body. She smelled like daffodils in early spring. God I wanted her. “You’ve done that before. Better think twice before screaming again,” I warned her. I ran my free hand up her leg to where I’d carved her name in her thigh. “Now, I’ll remove my hand if you tell me your name. Yes?”

                She nodded and closed her eyes. A single tear slipped from her eye as I felt her body relax. I removed my hand, but kept myself pressed against her. “Now, what is your name?”

                “Red. My name is Red.”

                “That’s my good girl.” I pushed forward with my hips a little before I took a step backward. I was rock hard with lust. 

                A quick glance at the hourglass let me know she had about five minutes left to be chained on her rack. I spent that time taunting her with flogs and canes. Each concussion reverberated throughout the tiny room. All too soon, the bell rang. And the assignment was complete.

                I unchained her wrists and ankles. She fell like a ragdoll into my arms, and I carried her to a lavender bath that waited. I stepped back wondering if I’d performed as she had wished.

                I was rewarded with a generous smile. The warmth of the bath restored the color to her cheeks. She practically purred as the heat eased the tension in her strained muscles. 

                I bowed and turned to leave. 

                “Thing,” she said.

                I stood frozen.

                “Take off your clothes and sit in the corner. I want to watch you finish. No point in letting that erection go to waste.”

                “Yes, Mistress,” I replied, all too eager to comply.


Thursday, March 5, 2015

Maestro's Ivory Caress

A seemingly private moment
I couldn't tear my eyes away
I watched you 
As you rested your head
On the piano
Your lids slowly fall to
Cover dreamy eyes
And the music in your soul poured
Into your fingers 
I'm left spellbound
In love and 
In tears

Tuesday, March 3, 2015


Haunted and followed
A feeling that won't
Relinquish its grip 
On my heart
The pressure of unseen eyes
The jolt of adrenaline
Is it fear
Or love
Recognizing a soul
From a thousand lifetimes ago 

Sunday, March 1, 2015


Those eyes
Those piercing eyes
Make or break
Can fill a soul
Empty a heart
Fill with ecstasy 
Drain of joy
Master and torturer
And owner of my will