Tag: dreams

Swimming With The Fishes

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Flash fiction7 Comments

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At first it felt as if his lungs were going to burst. He had never held his breathe this long , the depth of this dive seemed endless, the water a black hole of nothingness. His eyes were hurting from the strain and he was beginning to doubt he would ever find it in the infinite murkiness.

Suddenly and without a hint of warning, he saw a light. He swiftly swam toward it, not noticing that his breathing was somehow eased as he approached the whiteness.  Oddly, he found himself ascending. He was no longer in control of his body as the water transformed from a deep indigo into a soothing hue of turquoise.

A great heave of water pushed him up, and there he was, on some sandy, sunny, heated island-alone.  He had not expected this- a wave of panic rushed at him. All he wanted to was to find the key and hand it over to Jacko. Then the hounds of debt would stop nipping at his heals.

Now what was he to do?  He got off his knees and slowly walked to a shady area. He lay down under the cool canopy and fell into a deep sleep.

Days later, he made front page news. A fishing vessel had recovered a body in one of their tuna nets. Naked, except for a chain wrapped around his left ankle. Tethered to the other end was a concrete block.

  free write friday kellie elmore

Wonderful Kellie Elmore supplied us with 2 prompts this week! The above image came from her.

Love Always

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Flash fiction13 Comments

Jackson Wedding

He had fallen in love with those dark tresses first, he thought. Something about the way she moved her body as she walked by him set his soul on fire. Her hair moved in rhythm with the sway of her hips.  Her skin alabaster white and her eyes endless black pools-lit with a life affirming force. And then she spoke. “I’m new to town and I was wondering if there was a bookstore nearby. My brain is thirsty for words!”

“It’s two blocks down on the right. I can walk you there since it is getting a little dark,” he replied.

They shared the literary world and each other from that moment on. Although friends old and new dismissed their whirlwind romance at first, they soon realized that they were witnessing a lifetime love. So today, on this day, vows and promises were exchanged along with the anticipation of a new life they created from the love and pure passion of one another.

This Friday’s post is brought to you by Kellie Elmore. 

#FWF Free Write Friday: Image Prompt

An Unexpected Present

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Childhood Memories34 Comments

credit: www.polyvore.com

Growing up, Christmas was a big deal in our house. My dad believed in going all out with gifts at this time of year. He grew up in a large family during the Depression.  He always remembered not getting what he wanted because money was always tight. The story goes that he vowed that his children would not have the same experience as he did.

Needless to say, the living room in our small ranch house was overflowing with gifts for my brother, mother and me.  As I am writing this, I can still picture all the gifts we received over the years. Barbies, kitchen sets, drum sets, guitars, games, clothes, toy guns and helmets (Vietnam loomed large then), bikes ( I actually rode mine in the kitchen while mom was putting the turkey in the oven!).  My dad was a huge believer in Santa Claus and insisted that he existed well into our teenage years.

But even though we were spoiled at Christmas, my brother and I never asked for anything outrageous. We were always overjoyed and appreciative of the gifts we received. One year-maybe 1975-my dad asked me if there was something that I wanted for Christmas but probably would not get.  I replied that I really wanted a stereo system but knew that they could not afford one. Rock and Roll music and FM radio were in their heyday and it seemed like everyone was listening to their stereos full blast and buying albums that featured the Stones, Led Zeppelin and Aerosmith, among others.

On December 23rd of that year, we were at my Nana and Grandpa’s apartment enjoying our annual roast pork dinner. Nana always made a special meal or shared a Christmas tradition with each of her five children.  Our time was always on this date. After dinner, my father asked me to go into the bedroom because Santa had delivered  a present to the apartment for my brother and me. Apparently, it was hidden under the bed. I pulled out a long, wrapped and somewhat heavy box. On the tag it said: “To Kim and David From Santa. Do not open until December 25th.”  My brother and I were puzzled as to what it could be. Like I said, we had no expectations at all for any big gifts.

When family and friends gathered at our house on Christmas Eve, I told my uncle about the gift.  “Don’t open it first,” he said.  “Save it for last.” He knew that my dad would be dying to see our faces right away.

We did as he suggested. Together the two of us opened the gift last on Christmas morning.  And WOW!  We were dumbfounded! An Am/FM stereo system with a turntable and two speakers!  Of course, my dad persisted in saying that he and my mother did not purchase it-Santa did.

That stereo stayed with me for many years. In high school, I listened to many of rock’s best albums on it. All of  Fleetwood Mac, Jackson Browne, Elton John, The Eagles, Billy Joel, Chicago.  I brought it with me to college and blasted Bruce and U2 ( the early 80’s albums-OMG!) and The Clash.

For me the gift symbolizes many things: Rock music at its best, memories of my teenage and college years, but most of all my father’s unconditional love.

 

This post is brought to you by the venerable Kellie Elmore and her Free Write Friday prompt:

#FWF Free Write Friday: Childhood Gift

Write about your most memorable childhood gift. Was is a Christmas gift? A Birthday gift? Was is something you really wanted or was it a surprise that ended up holding a sentimental place in your heart? What do you remember? How did it make you feel?

free write friday kellie elmore

The Familiar

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetry, Uncategorized2 Comments

credit: 8tracks.com

One last sleep before my journey

We lie with just a sheet

and the whir of the fan

lulling us to dreamland

Our bodies take turns finding ways

to stay tangled, twined and touched

Fingers, legs, torsos, arms

tug, pull, envelop, whisper, graze

Nearness, breath, a sigh

until morning’s deep solitude awakens us

attempting to shed night’s imprinted stirrings

Marking Time

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetry28 Comments

walmart man

photo courtesy of Kellie Elmore

Born through the grace and mercy of the Lord

Workin’ on Papa’s farm since my feet taught me to walk

Mama called me shy, her worried little boy

Happy to plow them fields sunrise to sunset

Got called up at eighteen to kill the commies in ‘Nam

Found myself knee deep in rice paddies

or in jungles lined with mines and leeches

Saw friends lose their limbs and lives

Lost my mind

Drownin’ in the blood left on those hills and in those huts

Red the common color in comrades, babies and women

Numbed my soul in the arms of yellow girls and in bottles of hooch

Got myself hooked on smack when the demons ruled my dreams

When the killin’ was done, they brought me home

Leavin’ me with nothin’ but the ghosts carried home in bags or draped in flags

Papa died while I was gone and Mama sold the farm

Found myself on the streets lookin’ for the next fix

‘Til the shelter took me in and cleaned me up

Spend my days workin’ the soup line and waitin’ for the clinic to open up

Livin’ and dyin’ through the grace and mercy of the Lord

Another great one from Kellie Elmore this week We wrote a story from this image that she posted on Instagram. His name is John. Check others’ out at:

#FWF Free Write Friday: Image Prompt

WordPress Family Award

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn AwardsLeave a comment

wordpress-family-award

Hello my friends- Once again, I would like to thank Colline at Colline’s Blog (http://collinesblog.wordpress.com/) for nominating me for another WordPress Award!

This award acknowledges the bloggers who have had an impact on a blogger’s WordPress blogging  experience.

When I started blogging a year ago this month, I had no idea where this creative journey would take me. I knew that I was committed to the process and writing personal essays was certainly something that came easily to me. I wrote weekly and was satisfied that I had a tiny following. Then one Friday in March, I realized that I wasn’t sure of what my Sunday post would be about. So there I was poking around on WordPress  when I came across Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday prompt!  Because of Kellie’s large audience, I received new followers and great feedback as well for my piece.

The rest is the present. There is no doubt in my mind that Kellie ( Kellie Elmore) was the tipping point for my blog’s growth.  Kellie is a solid supporter of my writing and it is through her weekly prompts that I have developed my writer’s voice.  She is an amazing woman and writer with a heart of gold. Because of her, the following people have been the keeper’s of my flame:

Charlene @ Brighterdays Blog

Maria @ xxculture

Neens @ awritersfountain

Colline @ Colline’s Blog

These women possess their own creative talents and they consistently support my writing. I cannot thank them enough. They keep me motivated and inspired.

I know there are more of you out there! So I send my heart felt thanks to you as well for your support! 🙂 🙂

Vita da Sogno*

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Flash fiction24 Comments

photo credit: www.huffingtonpost.com

“Philomena! Philomena! Why are you wasting your time chasing a sogno irrealizzable?”  Her mama’s falsetto was grating on Philomena’s last nerve. Her passion-sketching, designing and stitching women’s fashion-went against her parent’s wishes to marry Arturo, the local cheese-maker. Her plans did not include an early marriage to a man who smelled of soured milk and curds day and night.

Paris-the city of high couture- was where here heart belonged. She ran to her room and grabbed her sketch pad, charcoals and blanket. She would hide away in the olive grove and create her newest ideas. Almost as an afterthought, she took some spare coins from her dresser. The cinema was debuting a new matinee today. She could not resist the films of Sophia Loren, Brigitte Bardott or Audrey Hepburn.; women of independence and classic, sensual styles.

Philomena raced down the stairs,  ignoring her mama’s obvious exasperation (her hands on her hips and her lips in a line). She was all of these women and more-her determination far outweighing the temptation to give in to cumbersome tradition.

*dream life

Once again it is Free Write Friday via Kellie Elmore!  I wrote this while at the doctor’s office today. Feeling under the weather-kidney infection! But no matter. Imagination won over discomfort!

Here’s the link:

#FWF Free Write Friday: Word Bank

by Kellie Elmore

This week’s FWF prompt is a word bank:

blanket – falsetto – cumbersome – cinema – coins

Geographical Escape 3.4: Sirens Song

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Flash fiction1 Comment

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photo credit: www.mywanderingstory.com

He had set foot in an alternate reality. On the outside,the building looked as if it were a residence with many rooms. However, with the exception of the ante-room and a small number of private rooms on the upper floors, the inside had the look and feel of flowered  gardens bursting with color. Dispersed throughout were pools laced with lily pads and small waterfalls. Butterflies flitted about adding depth and grace to this verdant paradise. In the distance, he heard the sounds of flutes and stringed instruments.

Aurora was dressed in a sheer red wrap that revealed her nakedness in just the right places. She was holding Tom’s hand gently in hers as she gave him a tour of the facilities. When he arrived once again at the residence, the men removed his clothing and donned him in a white wrap for comfort. As he walked with Aurora, Tom took in all the sights and sounds. In the rooms above, whispered ecstasy. In the pools below, synchronous sensuality. Some bathed each other as they would a newborn child. Others caressed as lovers would. The reverberation of their harmonious climaxes nearly drove him to tears.

But it was the sound of melodious singing that was drawing Tom to yet another pooled Eden. Before him were several women playing and singing in the water. They washed their long tresses and cleansed their bodies. They were lovely. Goddesses. Queens. Deities. He got down on his knees at the water’s edge. One beauty took his hand into the soothing water. The music lulled him into a state of perfect bliss.  He opened his mouth to drink their elixir. His eyes became heavy. His body limp as he fell into a deep and permanent slumber.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please.” Tom woke with a start. The pilot was speaking.  “We are having engine trouble and our flight is being diverted to Louis Port Regional Airport.” He rubbed his eyes. First, a sigh of relief came over him as he realized it all had been a dream. Yes, he had been to San Fransisco for work. No, he had not strayed this time.  But then a sense of horrible dread invaded him. Louis Port-his childhood home- was the place where it all began and ended.

Geographical Escape 3.2: Mud Season

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Flash fiction2 Comments

photo credit: info.forwater.com

The ground was squishy beneath his feet. His legs hard to lift. His lungs heavy with effort. His body soaked with sweat and muddy splatter. His clothes at one with his skin. He’d fall into a puddle of muck only to rise and have his face raked by the knives of branches. He was blind. The path a long shadow of darkness.  He could hear the pounding of feet and exerted breath of someone behind him.  Gaining ground.

He was overpowered by the force. Jumped from behind. His face planted in the mud. Hands at the back of his neck.  Legs squatted on his spine.  His words were muffled screams. “I promise I won’t tell! I promise I won’t tell! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!”

Ella was shaking him. Her face scratched and her arms red with the imprints of his fingers. Tears streamed down her face. “STOP! STOP! TOM! TOM! WAKE UP PLEASE!

He was hyperventilating. Losing air. His heart wrenched at the sight of his wife’s wounds. He began to weep. ” I know you didn’t mean it, darling. But the nightmares have gotten worse.”  Do you want to talk about it?”  He shook his head emphatically. He would just need to get a grip that’s all.  He thought the winter’s affair had cleansed him of the stench on his soul. But the nightmare was so vivid in its action and its accompanying emotions. Fear and Guilt hung in the air.

He had begun to dread bedtime. He would creep out of bed after Ella fell asleep and wander the house. Check on the kids. The doors and windows. The rains were relentless, causing area rivers to overflow their banks. Some roads became impassable. He was unable to ride his bike for relief. Sometimes Tom sat outside in the midnight torrents not sure if the water might drown him. He was drenched in stink.

The weather became an inspiration for Ella. She painted and sculpted productively through the winter season while he was away.  The current season’s gloom lent a noir element to her art. So much so that their nearby city’s well-known gallery wanted  to show her work. To Tom’s  inquiries about her theme, her reply was simple. “All of us have a dark side, sweetheart. But it remains our choice as to how we express it.”

So here he sat in yet another downpour. Warm air moved in and with it great claps of thunder and dangerous bolts of lightning.  He knew who was on top of him in the incubus. But how could he tell anyone it was the face of his father?

Geographical Escape 2.8: The Eye of the Storm

On By buildingalifeofhopeIn Flash fiction3 Comments

photo credit: www.atmos.washington.edu

Her earthy sensuality drew him to her like a magnet. He had not wanted to attend the art show opening but Joe had insisted he give it a try. Karen’s good friend, Ella, was showing her paintings and sculptures at a local but well-known gallery that night. Joe wanted another guy to join him.  He knew that Tom, his long-time friend since childhood, would not let him down.

He was surprised by the emotions her work evoked in him.  The images varied; landscapes, abstracts, etc. But it was the ones that displayed human relationships that grabbed his heart. He found himself not able to stand, so he took a seat by a window bench. From this vantage point he was able to observe the easy way she worked the room. She had a peaceful charisma about her and laughed easily. To Tom, she was the piece de resistance- a woman who possessed both an inner and outer beauty. Her auburn hair flowed onto her shoulders, her green eyes glimmered, her skin was neither porcelain nor olive toned. It exuded warmth- a place where he could softly land.

She found him there after the show was done.  “You look a bit out of your element,” she said.

“I want to buy one of your pieces,” he replied.

They had been inseparable ever since. Her calming self-assured nature provided him with a sense of peace that he had never known.  Together they created a life filled with children and solid friendships.

She still painted and sculpted in between raising the kids and creating a home. She had become active in the valley’s art community and it was there that she met the president of a nearby art college. He was impressed by her work and her leadership as well as  her promotion of the arts at the local level. He offered her a teaching position at the school and also wanted to commission her work.

As a result of this offer, Ella wanted to expand her studio space to the room above the garage. She had even gone as far as accepting a few bids for the job. Moreover, she had quickly said yes to the position. All three kids were in school full time and her schedule would easily fit in with theirs.

Tom completely supported her executive decision. His relief at not being caught helped make it easy for him. Summer ended. Fall began.  Work buzzed along smoothly. The studio went up quickly. When he had to work late, he would often find her there lost in her work. Many nights they made love on the floor amidst the spilled colors and clumps of clay. Her lips always offering words of love. Her hips like pearls of water.  Her skin once again giving him a soft place to land.