She Said, He Said

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How do you know it’s real, she said

When each hello is ripe with anticipation and every goodbye makes you cry, he said

Yes, but what about after that? she said

When each moment feels like its happening for the first time, he said

Yes, but they don’t last, we all know that, she said

Those times are the building blocks for a strong partnership, he said

Oh so you mean what we go back to when we find ourselves settling in? she said

Yes, those reminders of why we fell in love in the first place, he said

Well, with you I always go back babe, she said

Then it must be real, he said

 

 

 

 

 

Voyage to Nirvana

 

Image Credit: stuffpoint.com

 You find yourself in the lower level of an old ship. A calendar on the wall says  1682. There is a small window, and the view is nothing but open sea and a setting sun. There is a staircase and you can see daylight at the top…

 

Lydia awoke to the sound of vomiting, the stench of urine and shit and the feeling of her body being buffeted against a rough surface. Her mouth was parched as her tongue scraped across her lips in a feeble attempt to quench her thirst. Her eyes searched for information in a near void of blackness. Straight on, a piece of paper crudely slapped upon wooden beams.  In her blurred vision, she could make out four numbers:1682.  As her eyes adjusted to the low lighting, she realized that she was looking at a calendar. August 7, 1682!

Dazed and out of sorts, she attempted to arise only to be slammed down by a sudden jolt.  Something was not quite right. She stood up once more only to fall over once again. As she tried one final time to upright herself, a phantom hand grabbed her forearm. “Aye, where you going there, Missy?”  Could it be? Was this her former lover disguised as some sort of rag tag sailor out of a pirate movie? God, he was wretched looking. And then she looked at herself.   A gown of some sort corseted at the chest and waist. She was covered in a heavy shawl and her long flowing hair-did she have hair?- was atop her head hidden beneath a bonnet.

This was too weird. Where the hell was she? That tequila sure was strong last night. How many shots did she drink, anyway? As she looked around, there appeared to be others in the “hole” with her. Men, women, children in various states of sleep as well as health.  Then that smarmy voice called out  again .”Come on lovey, give it over a little.”  One hand was at her breast and the other up her dress. But her foot reached the perfect target just in time for another rolling around the room. He screamed and she found herself up against a set of stairs, her head aching. She looked up. Daylight! Lydia mustered all her strength and crawled on all fours to the top.

“Hey, babe. Sounds like you had a rough night at Club 1682. I made your favorite breakfast and some strong coffee. But first let’s get ourselves in that warm bubble bath made just for two.”

 

 

Thanks once again to Kellie Elmore for the Free Write Friday prompt!

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At Last

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I remember the first time I saw you.

Walking towards me in the heat of the day.

I remember that first conversation.

Hours of intimacy, our skin pruned and blistered from the water and sun.

I remember that feeling of connection.

Immediate ease, our bodies in unconscious rhythm.

I remember the endless days awaiting your arrival.

Airport greetings, my heart leaping and skin tingling.

I remember the soft downy covers.

Sheltered from head to toe, your heart on mine.

I remember knowing we were forever.

When just the sight of you

or the sound of your voice

or the touch of your hand

feels like the first time.

Another prompt from dear Kellie that gets to the heart of the matter. In love and in life it is always the small moments that count.

Click on the link to read other talented musings!

#FWF Free Write Friday: Ponder This

by Kellie Elmore

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Sunshine Award

Nominated by the lovely poetress Annie @ http://anniesmuse.wordpress.com/

After writing and posting my 169th piece, I was pleasantly surprised to find myself nominated for the Sunshine Award! We sure could use some up here in the month of February!

So, onto the process: Write 10 facts about yourself and nominate 10 others as well.

1) I love to read and carry at least two books with me in my car daily. You never know if you’ll break down. Reading is a great thing to do while waiting for AAA!

2) I love running and have participated in the sport since I was 11. Took a break for a bit in my 20’s and love it even more in my 50’s.

3) I love yoga almost as much as running.  My yoga mat is near my desk ready for use at all times. I go to a hot yoga studio weekly and am now into my 36th straight day of doing yoga with a goal for a full 365 for this year.

4) I  also enjoy strength training but find it hard to do when my basement is 48 degrees. Plus, I spend a lot of time shoveling snow in the winter.

5) The ocean soothes my soul and it is in these long winter days that I miss it the most.

6) I make sure to see the sunrise and sunset everyday no matter where I am. The only obstacle is usually cloud cover!

7)  I love getting my hair done. For years when I was married and the mother of young children, I kept my hair very short and got cheap haircuts. That ceased about 8 years ago when a good friend of mine paid for my haircut with her hairdresser. She spent the year convincing me to grow my hair and Voila’!

8) I am grateful to be in a healthy relationship with a wonderful man.

9) My two grown sons have turned into two good men. Very little fine tuning needed!

10) No matter what life has brought to my door, I have no regrets about the choices I have made-they helped to make me a stronger person.

And the nominees are:

1) http://dorothychiotti.com/  Consistently strong writing spoken with passion from the heart.

2) http://pinkwoods.wordpress.com/ This girl can write about pain so beautifully and with true honesty.

3)  http://talichaj.com/ I love her spoken word poetry!

4) http://phylor.wordpress.com/ This writer blows me away every time!

5) http://jenniesaia.wordpress.com/ Jennie’s passionate opinions and energy ring true. I look forward to her posts all the time.

6) http://markschutter.com/ What can I say? I just love Mark. His appreciation for his life shows in all his posts and his art.

7) http://graypoet.wordpress.com/ A man with a gift for rhyme and more.

Well, I just have 7 because some of the ones I love no longer accept awards or have already been nominated for Sunshine!  Quality writers here nonetheless!

Namaste’

Enlightenment

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Credit: www.fotolia.com

The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.
Mahatma Gandhi

When I round the curve in the road, my thoughts unexpectedly go back to her and that not so long ago time when she was the “other”. The past lingers for just a moment then disappears as the road straightens and I head for home.

Each week, I return to the space that provides solace and heat. A place in that not so long ago time that seemed to call my name. The road was dark then, the route unknown. Each visit an escape hatch from pain.

Perhaps I was conceited enough to believe that he would never leave-never mind deceive. Then we became another cliché. Middle-aged man leaves wife and kids for younger woman. How trite and how true.

The knowledge came in bits and pieces. An off-handed remark made by a close relative. Phone calls saying he needed to help a friend.  Concentrated text messaging during our son’s sports game. A trip out of the country that appeared to happen as an unplanned event.

Then he said her name and it became all too real. Well, you can’t put words back in a box once they’ve been hung in the air. I felt slayed. Chopped up. Diced into tiny pieces. Shattered like broken glass. Tossed into the trash.

And then we met. Quite by accident. On a cold, dark holiday eve. A face to her name. Polite exchanges and then an awkward and quick exit.

It is hard to hold your head up when you feel like you’ve been slapped in the face. It is hard to stand up straight when you feel like you’ve been punched in the gut.

I needed to detox, to purge. So I took to the only path that would help peel the pain away. The space of healing energy and consolation.

Then she appeared once and again over time. In that sacred space. Ironically, it was easy to be gracious then; perhaps because she had cast him aside. Friends and relatives were aghast at my charitable demeanor while in her company. But it would have been too easy to take the low road. Did I really want or need to speak of him or treat her in a degrading way?

Certainly it would be simple to converse with someone in this way. Someone who had been naked with your husband. Easy to cause her discomfort or guilt. But I had moved on. Grown confident inwardly. Better to show healthy growth than to sow bad seeds.

Since then, there have been others with him. The door may have been a revolving one; and still could be if only in his mind. I need no “others”. I need only myself so that I may love and trust one other.

The sacred space is mine now. I share the energy with other souls bound for the glory of feeling grounded and balanced. We renew one another as we journey down our own paths; some curved others straight. Always honoring the light of one another.

I use memories but I will not allow memories to use me.”

Deeprak Chopra

Lover’s Creed

trust[4]

Meeting for a late night meal

Not quite strangers, Not quite friends

But something else unborn and unspoken

 

A forward movement,

                   A relevant transition,

A certain shift

resonating between and within us

 

The repast remained barely consumed

Our hearts full of anticipation instead

 

The ease at which we came to be joined

An affirmation that it was meant to be

 

The darkness deepened outside

The air breathing its long December chill

But here in this space lay newborn warmth

Eyes wide open

 Souls ready to receive

 

Two lovers sealing their covenant

A confident expectation

A credulous commitment

 

Thus, on this night,

in this blood-thin blackness

this achy, gasping vortex of interminable frost

A recollection of our whispered pact

soothes me in a blanket of torrid heat

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#FWF Free Write Friday: Trust

Just one word this week. It can mean many things can’t it? I am grateful to have it back in my life. I took  a trip down memory lane for this one. And I am glad that I still am making more with my beloved!  Perfect way to end the week.

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