The Bad Penny

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Sunday morning sunshine

Air alive with early morning briskness

My feet hit the pavement anxious with anticipation

for the quiet of a long run

My heart is bursting with excitement

as my legs move smoothly over the hills

At last at the crest of “The Killer”

I remove a layer

The heat of my arms basking in the high star

The finish is too soon, I think

Arriving home I hear the voices

of loved ones breaking the fast

We are renewing a childhood tradition

In a different incarnation

Grown-up, sharing the ritual

with the girls they love

We are filled with glee

Refreshed, we hit the road

But not before stopping for that cup of joe

And then the reverie is broken

He appears:

AN INTRUDER

INVADER,  INFIDEL

INFECTION, INFESTATION

Our blood was once on his hands

We grapple  with this infelicitous situation

My heart races and my hands shake

I move away yet stay put

My protectors keeping him at bay

Polite, they speak in superficial tones

Pretending to be mannered

All the while  seething at the reminder

of his emotional destructions

At last they come for me

surrounding me as we depart

We breathe deeply

Freed again

Delighted that the orchard awaits our pickings

Sipping and Singing and Celebrating

Moving onward and forward

Knowing our lives are full and empty of him

September Song

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Stepping out into the last of an August day, I hold onto the season

Darkness descends earlier now, but a few summer sounds remain

The delightful din of the peepers, the cheerful chirping of the crickets

Families roughhousing outside

     Laughter and whooping lighting up the dusk

The sound of the Red Sox on the radio from the house next door

The lingering humidity, a heated quiet that is slowly giving way

To the rumble of school busses and children dressed in sweaters and sweatshirts

Amber sunsets which promise cool nights and mornings blessed with a chill

Wicker baskets ready for apple picking under brilliant foliage

Reminding us of the gifts from the changing of the seasons

The autumn aroma of crisp air and nighttime bonfires

        Crackle, sizzle, roar  

We ease the chill with cocoa for the young ones    

And something that brings a glow to the cheeks

And fire to the belly for the older imbibers

We rejoice this ninth month as it births its third season

In all its wondrous glory and new beginnings

Inspired by Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday: 

#FWF Free Write Friday: Fall Word Bank

foliage – amber – wicker – aroma – sweater – cocoa

free write friday kellie elmore

Phone Call at Midnight

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Tessa had her suspicions but could never put her finger on any exact proof. Her connections in the high rolling corporate world provided her with ample opportunities to work and play with powerful men. Normally, she kept them at arm’s length, both literally and figuratively. Staying objective while covering the news of the latest takeover or insider scandal was the code by which she lived and breathed. Because of this, she earned the trust of her readers as well as the editors at the paper. It was no accident that she was the recipient of many awards for journalistic excellence. Her non-confrontational style broke down barriers and got many of her sources to confess their dirty deeds.

Tessa worked hard to keep her private life out of plain sight. Covering investigative stories sapped her mental energy and often brought her instant recognition when out in public. Shopping for herself was challenging and dating nearly impossible as many dinners were often interrupted by the ringing of her phone or her “fans”. One gray Sunday afternoon, she saw an ad on the Internet for the sale of a little cottage in Bucks County. Just what I need she thought. A place that will allow for escape from the dregs of the city and the narcissistic qualities of the people I cover. She call the number and made an appointment for the following Saturday afternoon.

It was love at first sight.  The little yellow bungalow with white shutters and a fertile flower garden exuded cheer and warmth. It had just one bedroom and bath (with a claw footed tub), a working fireplace and an open living and kitchen area. The remote setting was serene with its small sloping lawn and tiny pond stocked with fish. She also took an instant like to the real estate agent showing her the property. Jared was polite and knowledgeable- having grown up in the area as a boy. He, too, had taken to the fast paced city life for a bit but then found himself burned out after years of chasing nothing (as he put it). Now, he dabbled in house selling and renovations throughout the western part of the state. This way he could keep his hair long and his skin brown as a berry.

After the purchase, Tessa took some much needed time off from work to move into the house and do some touch-ups on the inside. She often found herself in the company of Jared during her antiquing and hardware excursions. He was delightful and they usually ended their days with dinner in her kitchen or drinks by the pond.  As the weather turned colder, she made use of the fireplace. Tessa arrived late one Friday evening to a stack of firewood on her front porch. She knew immediately that Jared had split it for her. When she called to thank him, she found herself inviting him over.

So their year long affair began. Tessa found Jared so easy to talk to-unlike so many of the men she had dated and even interviewed. He was relaxed and generous with his time and encouraged her to open up. She even told him about her latest piece-investigating a drug lord’s ties to a well known investment firm. She felt like she was getting close but was challenged by some of her sources as well as her own desire to go all out in getting answers. For the first time in years, Tessa didn’t have the zealous urge to go after a story. All she wanted by Thursday night was to head down the 101 and fall into Jared’s embrace.

And it was after one lovely interlude that Tessa found herself awakened by the sound of Jared’s voice on the phone. His side of the bed was empty. The clock on her night stand just turned over to a brand new day. Wrapping herself in a sheet, Tessa crept out of bed towards the kitchen. Jared’s voice became clear. “Don’t worry, she’ll be dead by Sunday.”

Kellie’s at her best with this week’s prompt. We got to write a story based on a list of titles she gave us!  This was fun and very different!  Go to:

#FWF Free Write Friday: Pick a Title

Happy Sunny Sunday

Hello my friends!

photo credit: whatsyourbackground.net

If you have viewed my blog today, you will have noticed that I have posted three award logos to my home page’s sidebar. It has taken me some time to figure out how to do that as I am challenged in this area!  With help from WordPress Support and my oldest son, I finally did it last night!

So today I hope to write 3 new posts to recognize those others out there who have supported my writing and whose writing deserves a bigger audience. I am in the midst of organizing my thoughts as well as making a list of bloggers to honor.  I may not get to everyone. But I do hope that those that I missed will understand that I appreciate their work and the fact that they follow me!

Today is a perfect summer day here.  I am heading out to spend time with my soul sister in the sunshine. This may interfere with my goal!  Days like this must be seized!

Thanks for reading!

Geographical Escape 3.5: Fade to Black

photo credit: studiofovea.deviantart.com

“I know where her body is buried.” Tom was sitting in a dark booth at a dive bar on the outskirts of Louis Port. He stopped in to visit Marlena, an old friend of his mother. He had ordered one too many drinks and Marlena stayed after to help him sober up. She had the looks of a woman who I had seen and heard it all. They got around to talking about old times and soon they found themselves on the subject of his father.

“Your mother hated leaving you with him,” she said. Tom’s mother work nights as a nurse at the local hospital. His father worked at the docks loading cargo that was being shipped down river. Jim’s tall frame had become naturally muscular from years of heavy lifting. Tom’s thinness stood in sharp contrast to his father’s imposing body and equally intimidating personality. Already possessing a shy demeanor, Tom became mute whenever he was with him. In turn, Tom’s father did his best to ignore his son. He wasn’t a man who was good at conversation and he made no attempts to keep enough food in the house or cook a meal.

Jim was a heavy drinker and perpetual womanizer. Often times he would head down to the neighborhood tavern leaving his son alone for the night. Sometimes Tommy fell asleep to the hum of the tv set or put himself to bed. Jim would come home drunk, always with company for the night. Tommy could hear them through the walls. Bed creaking. His father moaning. A woman mewing or at times screaming. He covered his ears with a pillow to block out the noises. Some of them would stay around for a few months. They attempted to be friendly but more often than not, they were more interested in fucking his father. Jim would often send Tommy off on his bike during these times telling him to stay out of the house because “Daddy had business to take care of.” He would ride for hours all over town. Joe would meet up with him and they would head to his house where Joe’s mom would cook them up a special treat. Or he would ride over to the Trackside Diner, where Marlena was working at the time. She always made sure he ate a hearty meal, his belly full to bursting.

When he did arrive back at his Dad’s, he and his latest date would often be passed out on the couch with beer cans strewn on the floor and cigarettes still burning in the ashtrays.

His father knew no boundaries. He didn’t seem to care when Tommy would accidentally walk in on his acts in the living room or even the kitchen. “Hey there son, Daddy is just  having some fun with this little lady. You go on back to bed now,” he’d laugh. Or there would be two women with him. Unabashed in their nakedness. “I had trouble choosing. So I thought I would invite both of them home with me.”

Tommy was overwhelmed. He did not have the words to even speak of the situations he witnessed. He was always relieved to be back with his mother, putting those times out of his mind.

And this is what he thought he did that one last time. He was awakened once again by the sounds from his father’s bedroom. This time, however, it was different. Fearful screaming. Furniture banging against the wall. His father making monstrous noises. More yelling. “Please stop! You’re hurting me. Let go of me!”  Then the sound of someone falling to the floor with a loud thud.

Tommy couldn’t help himself. He got out of bed and peeked in the doorway of his father’s room. He saw his father straddled over the bloody, naked body of his latest conquest. A knife was in his hands. When he turned and saw his son, he said, “She wouldn’t listen, son. Help me clean up.” He began to roll her body in a rug. “Go open up the car’s trunk and get a shovel too. Then get in the back seat.”

They drove out to Cedar Grove Forest. He left Tommy in the car while he walked down the path with the shovel. A few minutes later, he came back for her. “Help me out here son. Hold the flashlight. I don’t want to trip on the path with this heavy load.”  Tommy held the light out in front of him as his father walked behind. When they got to the hole, he father said, “Go on back to the car and wait for me.”

Minutes later, Tommy heard the car door open and watched his father slide into the driver’s seat. Then he turned around and brought Tommy’s face close to his. He was filthy and reeked of sweat and blood. Breathing heavily, nearly spitting out the words, he said: “Don’t you ever tell a god damn soul.”

The smell of bleach awakened him. Sunlight streamed across his face. “Get dressed. I am taking you back to your mother’s.” He dropped his son at the curb and sped off. That was the last time he saw his father. It was only three years later, when Tommy was twelve, that he heard about his father’s death in a cheap motel room. He had been found shot to death.

By the time he was done talking, the sun was about to rise. The confession purged his soul. He knew that he would need to talk to the authorities. But first he would go home. He no idea of how he would tell Ella about his past. No clue about his present misdeeds. Their future together was uncertain. But he owed her the truth.

These thoughts were swimming in his sleepless mind as he said goodbye to Marlena and headed out towards the airport. Dazed and distracted, he was unaware of the moose in the middle of the road. He hit it head on, the car flipping over and over into the air until it landed in a ditch. They say you travel towards a white light at the end. But all Tom saw was red.

Summer Morning

photo credit: inspirationfeed.com

 The air is already thick with heat

 as I creep outside in my bare feet

The cool morning dew relieves

the daily ache in my feet and toes

The wet blades stick to my heels

and sneak in between my skin

      A delicious delight

   dancing with the sensation

                                                             

The day is still at rest

Only the voice of the train whistle bellows

 low and heavy

     through the wall of humid air

      sounding tired too soon

Geographical Escape 2.6: Fog

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He woke up with his face in the sand and a bone- cold chill running through his veins. He was completely disoriented as he sat up to look around him. The beach was encased in a thick fog.  He felt like a castaway who had washed up on the shore after a shipwreck. She was  a ghost once more. Forgetting his nakedness, he walked to the lean- to just to be sure . Yep. Just his bike and his pack. She was considerate enough to bring his clothes up from the beach before she left. He dressed quickly and pulled out his cycling jacket from the pack for extra warmth.

The fog made it difficult to follow the roads and anticipate the curves and hills that were easily mastered yesterday. He hoped that he was going in the  right direction to the ferry. He didn’t have any idea of the schedule nor did he know what time it was- he left his phone back in the room. He was trying not to panic as he carefully negotiated the route back.

He arrived at the town’s landing damp and still cold. Luckily, there was a general store that was open. He tried not to look too relieved when he found out they also served coffee and snacks. As he sat at the tiny service bar, he noticed that the ferry schedule was posted on the wall. None going out for four more hours because of the fog. Even Earl’s mail boat was hung up. “Don’t worry honey. Fog will lift soon. Earl was just asking about some biker over the two-way. He’ll be happy to bring you back once I get the mail sacks from  ‘im.”

While he waited, he drank more coffee and read yesterday’s news. He tried not to think about her and the sense of abandonment that he felt. He only wanted to feel warm again.

“Good gosh you old son-of-a-gun. You look like a lost puppy.” It was Earl.  “Time to get you back to the mainland, my friend.”

The ride back was quiet as the fog cleared completely. When they reached the pier, Tom noticed that the vessel that had been undergoing repairs was gone.  “Word is they left just after dawn. Needed to get ahead of those ocean storms.” Earl talked as if he were to trying to explain the situation. Well, what did he expect?  They treated one another like friendly strangers at best. No more. No less.

When he finally got back to his room, it was nearly 2pm. His phone was noisily vibrating with messages from home. He listened to his children sing their “Daddy I Miss You” song. Then there was a message from his wife.  Her tone was serious. “Tom, call me when you are not too busy with those endless meetings.  The kids and I are headed to Karen and Joe’s  until you get back.  But we NEED to talk.”

Backyard Delight

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A heated May night

The sun has yet to set

Dragonflies bound and bounce in the humid air

Crickets begin to hum

Birds sing a ditty of dedication to the long light

Children are running about screeching and screaming

Freed from the confines of the dinner table

The sounds of motorcycles rumble and pop in the distance

                    A warm energy stirs out here

We are not ready to settle our bodies in for the night

Sleep may come quickly but will be fevered and restless

The humid air encompassing our bodies and breathe

So for now we just listen

Glorifying the season

Witness to Mother Nature and her Miracles

Last week we had an early and short-lived heat wave here. I wrote this in my backyard last Friday as the evening breeze blew in.

Thursday Morning

photo credit: www.steves-digicams.com

In the deep darkness just before dawn

She listens to the stone silence

by her bedroom window

The day slowly awakens along with her mind

Early drivers hum along quietly in the distance

Birds begin to chatter

The day shows no promise of sun

with the  misty gray sky standing in sharp contrast

To the deep, deep green of the oaks and maples

The grass is soaked with morning moisture

She breathes deeply

 She looks out from her perch

to the back forty

Two doe are breaking their fast

Tails twitching

Ears alert

Quickly, they stand at attention

Sensing danger, they seem to leap through the air

Seeking shelter and protection elsewhere

She wishes to stay here

away from the noise and clatter of her working day

This is her peace, her shelter, her nirvana

Another deep breath

Morning stretches

A cleansing run

She readies herself for a new day

Just Another Day At The Laundromat

photo credit: http://www.hercampus.com

For Mothers Day,  I like to keep things simple. This year, the boys asked me what I wanted to do and I told them: “Landscaping the yard, an easy meal at home and watching Finding Nemo with you guys. ” I wanted the three of us together under one roof without one of us (usually me) falling asleep after twenty minutes.

Springtime up here is in full bloom and we own enough land that it takes a team to resurrect it after the winter has beaten it down. The grass grows long after about fifteen minutes and what isn’t grass looks downright barren and sad without some annuals planted here and there.  The tulips that  I planted 2 years ago in memory of my mother are a ray of sunshine at the top of the driveway but everything else needs trimming and chopping.

So Sunday seemed simple enough. First, I would  go on my 10+ run and my oldest would meet me for the last four miles. Then it was a shower, refueling ( aah a soy latte’!) and back outside. My youngest was to be in charge of mowing our vast expanse (he had repaired the rider and pusher so he was pumped) while my oldest and I raked out  a large area for new top soil and flowers. Laundry for my youngest was on the list as well. He figured he could easily get it going and done when he was mowing. Then we would chow down on burritos while enjoying the show.

Well, I should have known that when I woke up to rain that things would not go exactly as planned!  There are few exceptions that can stop me from lacing up my shoes (blizzards, serious downpours, hurricanes, extreme heat) so I  added  a layer to my skimpy sleeveless running top and headed out the door.  By mile two, I was quite dewy but not uncomfortable. The rain would abate and resume in an unpredictable fashion throughout the course.  I felt unusually pain free and relaxed until… mile 8.5, when my son and I stopped to look at some ducks in the marsh. When I started running again, my left knee locked up and I spent the last two miles shuffling up the hills and cursing the downhills.

By the time my shower was done,  the sun began to peek out from behind the clouds and we agreed to just delay the yard work until…my youngest son got a call from his boss asking him to come in for a meeting to plan for the week ahead ( he works in the trades and business was picking up after a temporary slow down). He had no choice but to go in. My oldest and I threw him a lifeline and said we would take care of his laundry while we cleaned up the basement.

So things were humming along;  3 loads later and the basement and  raking were just starting to look good until…. my oldest noticed that the t-shirts were still damp in the dryer . We added a few minutes to the cycle and then threw the Carhart pants in, pressed the button and..  the dryer dies! In truth, it had been on its way out for a few months. I don’t remember when the noise started in the machine but it sounded possessed!  We got to the point where we would push the button, cover our ears, dash to the door, shut it and run up the stairs. The sound cut right through you but the dryer still worked. I knew that I was on borrowed time but I wanted to put off the expense for a while longer. I was shelling out quite a few dollars on the home renovation and hoped the dryer would last until late June.

No such luck. It was late afternoon and the laundromats around here do not stay open late. The clothes had to get done because we all had long  work days on Monday waiting.  Besides, we ran out of topsoil and no flowers were going to get planted anyway. ( Oh, did I mention that my oldest is graduating from college on Saturday and we are having a party? No pressure to get things done at all-HA!).

So we loaded up my son’s truck with 4 baskets of heavy wet clothes and 2 big baskets of dirty items and headed out to the next town. We decided to go to the big place that we know about and pulled in the lot. We were about to park and get out until… we noticed that it was closed!  UGH!  But there was still hope.  We noticed another one two strip malls down right next to a fitness chain.  And it was open!  We quickly went inside and found ourselves in a pristine laundromat replete with 2 television screens-one broadcasting a PBS cooking show and the other a major league baseball game. It even had a leather couch and a huge and very clean bathroom.

My oldest and I are a well-oiled organization team. We always try to go the most efficient and least expensive route whenever possible no matter what the task.  We figured we would be in and out in about 80-90 minutes. We settled down on the comfy couch, put our feet up and started reading our book and magazine until… we realized we had no game plan for dinner now. And would we be able to watch the movie? And when would his brother get home?  A stop at the nearest grocery store solved the problem. We bought 3 Newman’s frozen pizzas, called my youngest to preheat the oven and headed back home with the cleaned goods and some sustenance.

At this point, it was 7pm. The movie went in and we inhaled the pizza. And before we knew it, it was time to settle in for the night. The irony of the day was not lost on my oldest. Here I was doing my 20 year old’s laundry on Mothers Day! (Both boys have been doing their own laundry since 2005).  It goes to show that even the simplest plans can go awry.

So here it is Tuesday and the lawn still needs to be done before Saturday and soil still needs to be purchased for the flowers.  Party supplies and groceries are on the to-do list. Never mind the filthy kitchen floor. Plus my dad  is due in on Friday.  But we have developed a Plan B and that should go well until…