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Archive for September, 2016

The Darkest Side

Posted in Blogging, Creative Writing, Fiction, Inspiration, Life, Non-Fiction, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Writers, Writing, tagged , , on September 24, 2016| 3 Comments »

My darkness is a blanket, but I find it hard to pull around you. It seems it would be easy enough. I could just clutch the two corners and wrap them ‘round your shoulders until they tie together.

 

Knotted, in the middle of your chest.

 

And there they’d hang, the blanket’s twisted ends, weighty over your heart.

 

It’s tempting.

 

I could pull it over your head. Cover your eyes with it. Stop you from seeing me.

 

From seeing anything.

 

Because it’s not one of those thin blankets. The kind that grant grainy particles of light. No peeking through to the other side.

 

Not with this one.

 

Once you’re in it, it’s thick. And heavy.

 

Dense.

 

You won’t see hazy silhouettes through it. No subtle motion. Once you’re under it, it’s black. Bleak.

 

Opaque.

 

No light. No movement. No hope.

 

You’ll ask me to. Even tell me you want the darkness. You’ll beg to be wrapped in it, if you think it will help me. You’ll promise to be okay behind its all-encompassing eclipse.

 

You’d lie if you thought it would ease my burden.

 

I know better. I know what it will do to you. To your spirit. To your sensitive soul.

 

But in the end, I’ll share my blanket with you anyway.

 

Because I’m human. And I need you.

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Is It a Bird? No, It’s a Monkey.

Posted in Blogging, Creative Writing, Inspiration, Life, Non-Fiction, Short Stories, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Writers, Writing, tagged on September 7, 2016| 4 Comments »

I wrote a post the other day. Yay, me! About a bird. Well, it seems it was about a bird, but to be honest, I rarely write in a literal sense. I’m just usually the last to know.

 

And people liked it. Oddly, I did too. And that’s a real rarity for me. Because sadly, though not surprisingly, I am plagued with the writer’s plight. One’s own work is never good. And even worse, it’s never enough. In fact, why am I even showing it to anyone, silly monkey! So, to feel like it passed muster is a true blessing indeed.

 

But…I need the formula. What was so likeable? Why did you like it? And the harder question – why did I?

 

It’s laced with attractive language. And a lightness that brings a certain prettiness to the page. It’s short. And sweet. Grammatically correct. And even though it might be what some would perhaps call, wandering, it still manages to be direct and to the point. When you believe I’m actually talking about a bird, that is.

 

And all those things are good. But I don’t think they’re the reasons we liked it, do you? If I had to guess, (which obviously I do because, for some reason, very few people ever actually comment on my posts) I’d say it’s because it’s mysterious. And moving. And metaphorical. Have I gone too far in patting myself on the back? Another thing about writers…most of us are delusional.

 

Anyway…

 

Mystery. Movement. Metaphors.

 

We usually like those three things the best, don’t we?

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The Bird

Posted in Beauty, Blogging, Creative Writing, Fiction, Inspiration, Life, Metaphors, Relationships, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Writers, Writing, tagged , on September 5, 2016| 6 Comments »

She flitted in. Almost darting between our gazes. Head bobbing with each move. And I couldn’t stop watching her. She was a delicate little thing. Small. Angular. But still somehow, swooping. Sinuous.

 

She’s out of her comfort zone. It’s easy to see. In certain moments, a colored blur of watery reflection. In others, a precise dot on the obscure background that is this depressing place. I can tell you though. She’s livened it up just by breezing through. A welcome whisk of vivacity. A thrill for a sad and sorry bunch.

 

A wonder.

 

She continues on. Stopping now and then. Fluttering in her light-tipped way, from this stoop to that. Ignoring the attentions of everyone else. Busying herself. Bending to pluck bits of litter from the floor. Smoothing her sides back down flat.

 

I take in her slender neck. Sloping toward her rounded behind and ending in a graceful point at the tip of her thighs. I put my finger out and trace over it in the air. All the way down to the end. Following her curve with my eye.

 

A sharp noise above the din around us jars her and she ruffles from head to toe. I take a breath, waiting for her to leave me, but she stays. Gathers herself. Keeps moving. Slowly. Delicately. Toward me. My heart skips when I realize how close she’s getting. So close that I can see myself in her pupils. So close that I can feel her warmth. So close that I can smell her scent. And my once skipping heart now batters against its cage.

 

I reach out. To protect. The instinct is strong. But I can’t touch her. She’s just beyond my grasp. I want to call out, but the usual cackles begin around us and she brings her shoulders up over the sides of her head.

 

Shielding.

 

All is concealed but her starry eyes. Their long fine lashes reaching for me. Almost past the crook of her bent, slight limb. And then, they flicker. Those eyes. Right across mine. And lock. Just for a second, mind you. But it’s magic.

 

Changing.

 

Then, as quickly as she came, she’s gone. Off into her other world. And even though I knew she would eventually vanish, it breaks me. Instantly, I drain. Empty.

 

My mind.

My heart.

My soul.

 

As she drifts away into another place. Another time. I am left here.

Paused.

Until her return.

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