Darkened Road

First I walk alone. I do not feel afraid, and wonder why. Something seems to await me with an ominous sort of darkness before me. Yet my feet continue to step.

One foot in front of the other, I wet out, eyes focused at the long road before me. Darkness approaches. It comes quickly, quicker than I had expected. A chill runs through my body and I feel the goosebumps prick my skin. Yet I move forward. My feet seem to move on their own. They drag me forward fearlessly, ignoring the pattering of my heart.

My eyes continue to stare ahead, focusing on the graveled road stretching before me. The way is straight. It appears to be simple. Yet that daunting feeling of something dark awaiting me does not let go of my heart. My chest squeezes within me painfully. Yet I move on.

Then before I was aware, a warm hand took hold of mine. It clutched me with confidence and I looked to my side. He had come to help me. The chill left me instantly as my gaze met with his for an instant. Then together we continued forward. The darkness, still ominous, was not so harsh. My journey appeared to be brighter. The dark sky opened for a moment and I could see past its hold, a glimpse of blue.

We stepped forward together with a confidence, a partnership I hadn't expected. Hope returned. There is a light at the end.

Fantasy Land

Tabatha looked around herself. The classroom was meant to be bright and cheerful, but it took her into an unknown world. More children her age began to fill the room as 8 o'clock drew nearer. She stood next to her desk and watched the others as they gathered together and chattered a little bit. Their voices made a hum of whispers, sounding like wind. The wind took her flying back and she thought of home and her backyard. The journey through the clouds was so exciting! From the sky, she could see so many beautiful things! The wind was rather cold and she shivered a little. When she landed in her backyard, the leaves rustled around in the breeze beneath her feet to clear and opening for her to stand. Her mother would be angry to see her home from school, so she decided to hide in her hidey-hole which she built within a burrowed out opening inside the largest pine tree. The smell of pine seemed sweeter than usual.

"Tabatha?" the voice was her new kindergarten teacher. "Would you like to take off your coat and put it in the closet over there?" Tabatha looked up into the woman's face. She had kind eyes and she showed her perfectly white teeth through her pink lips when she gave Tabatha a compassionate smile.

Tabatha took off her jacket and walked toward the closet. The light had been turned off inside the closet, and Tabatha walked into the cave. As she stepped inside, she could hear the drippings from the damp ceiling as they hit the floor. She saw two white circles with black dots in the center, looking at her. It frightened her, but she didn't want to seem like a chicken by running away, so she whispered, "What do you want?" The eyes didn't answer, but got closer. She noticed a knothole in the wall of the cave and hung her jacket on it. She held her lunchbox tight in her hand. She didn't want whoever this was to eat her lunch. Slowly, the eyes got lower to the ground, and smaller.

"Yeeow." The sound was soft and high. The cat crept into the light for Tabatha to see. "Meeow."

"Oh, hello." Tabatha said, happy and relieved that it was only a friendly cat.

"Hello." Said the cat. "May I ask what you would be doing in my cave?"

"Oh, I didn't realize this was your cave." Tabatha said, as grown-up as she could. "I guess my curiosity got the better of me."

"I must say," said the cat, which seemed quite proper, "have you heard the saying: Curiosity killed the cat? I would rather it said: Curiosity killed the little girl." The cat smiled slyly and motioned for her to come into the cave farther. As Tabatha came closer, she could see a little fireplace with two chairs close by. One looked quite comfortable with a large pillow on top. She headed toward it, but the cat leapt on top of it before she got there. She sat on the not-so-comfortable-looking one instead.

"You are an interesting girl." Said the cat, "I have been watching you for some time now."

Tabatha was aghast. "Really?" she said.

"I would like to give you this." The cat said, handing her a rather pretty necklace that glittered in the firelight. Tabatha took it and examined it carefully. It was silver and had circles and swirls on it. There was a small, purple gem on it that seemed to glow magically.

"Hold it with care." The cat said importantly. Tabatha decided she should go and politely dismissed herself. She put the necklace in her pocket.

"Tabatha, do you wish to join us?" her kindergarten teacher whispered into the closet. "We are about to sing my favorite song."

Tabatha set down her lunch box and came out into the light of the room. The children looked at her and whispered to each other with little snickers. The teacher didn't seem to notice and led Tabatha to her seat in the front of the class. When the teacher turned her back to gather papers from her desk, Tabatha felt something cold on the back of her neck. She turned to see a boy with a big mischievous grin on his face. She smiled back and touched the back of her neck. There was something wet and slimy there. She pulled it off her skin and saw that it was a lizard! She couldn't help but gasp. She treasured it in her hand and turned to look at the boy again. "Thanks!" She whispered, happily.

The boy stopped smiling and looked shocked. Tabatha couldn't stop smiling. It was the neatest gift she'd ever gotten! She set it on her desk and rested her chin on the desk in front of it. She focused her eyes on it and found that it was looking at her too. Its little tongue flicked and hit her on the chin. She giggled a little and felt the grass around her. She rolled over on her back and looked up into the sky. A cloud that looked like the lizard rolled about and became the little boy and then turned into her kindergarten teacher. It's mouth moved a little like she was talking and then her perfectly white teeth showed again in her compassionate smile. She reached out as if to touch the sky and the cloud resembling her teacher held something out to her. She threw the object and it came floating down to her. When it met Tabatha's hand, she found that it was a paper. She looked up and saw her teacher smiling at her again.

"Tabatha, what is this?" her teacher asked, pointing to the lizard.

"It's a lizard that I got as a gift just now." Tabatha answered. She turned to look at the boy again. He was crouched over the paper with a crayon and did not look up at her.

"Did Tommy give that lizard to you?" the teacher asked, kindly.

Tabatha looked back at her. "He did. Is his name Tommy?" she asked. Her teacher nodded. "Then, Tommy's my new friend." She smiled up at her teacher. The teacher looked back at the boy whose name was Tommy.

"May I take this lizard and put it in a jar on my desk until it's time for you to go home?" she asked Tabatha, keeping her eye on Tommy.

Tabatha nodded happily as the woman took the lizard gently in her hand and walked toward her desk. Tabatha looked back at Tommy. He was now watching his teacher with a look of despair on his face. Tabatha grinned at him. He glanced at her and began to draw on his paper again. She looked down at her own desk and saw that her picture was of a cat. "Hello." She said quietly to the cat as she got the necklace out of her pocket and put it around her neck.

"Hello." said the cat.

Opening

I remember that day the door was closed. It seemed it was closed forever. She had whispered those words to me through the telephone. Those words that burned me through to the core. The words that I didn't think I would ever recover from. Then it seemed that my life was over. The door was closed. Slammed shut tightly, right before my face.

Yet today I feel another door has opened. It breaths fresh air into my soul and I am lifted up with exhilaration like a soft warm breeze blowing in my hair. I am lit up with the natural light from what lies within. Love has returned to me, if through another form. It is different. Yet it is better.

The door is opening and she breaths life into my heart once more. It beats; it pounds. I am revived by it. I now can walk through bravely, for I know this time it will not swing back. It will not slam in my face like it had once before. For this time, she holds it in her hands, beckoning me forward.

So I enter.

Home

It was the same. Yet different.

I was back at the home I grew up to the age of 10 years. I remembered running around the wrap-around porch on summer days with a bubble wand, watching them shimmer and float in the light. Feeling invigorated as my young dog chased me around and snapped at the floating spheres.

The home was different now. Yet it was still my home. It was still the same shape that had been etched in my mind since the time I left it. When my parents had passed and I was taken away to live with my aunt. I didn't like to remember that part.

Now other people lived within those walls, but I found myself drawn to return. To see what had become of it. This home was mine, in spite of the years I spent away. It was mind, in spite of the new white siding now covering the old lovely brick I remember. It was mine, in spite of that black dog- instead of the white mutt with the brown and black spots I remembered standing on the porch last.

I approached, knees trembling a touch, and stepped up onto the first step. Everything seemed fresh and new. I was pleased. The home, although now different than how I remembered it, had been well kept. I knocked.

The woman who answered allowed me to walk through what was now her rooms, her walls, her furniture, and I told her stories about the way I remembered the place.

As I departed, I was again invigorated from the experience. Time goes on. People grow up. People die. What is left behind either can fade or bring new meaning and memories to others.

That's what made this house a home, not only to me.

MaryLou's

Have you ever met your guardian angel? Really met her? I have. I have always remembered that place and longed to return to it ever since.

It was back in my college days. I was in the middle of nowhere and my stomach was growling. I had been on the road since the previous morning, on the way across the states to visit a friend back east. It was a sparatic decision I'd made to go. One day I was sitting around in my apartment feeling lonesome, and the next my bags were packed and I loaded the car up with my belongings and headed out on the open road.

My last granola bar was eaten before noon that day and I knew now was the time to break out my stash of cash. I'd been saving this wad of bills for about a year in anticipation for a rainy day. I thought about the rolled-up bundle in the glove box. I'd added to it almost every day if I could. Honestly, I hadn't even thought to count it yet.

My stomach growled and I remember looking around at the sparse view. I thought I would have to wait awhile before getting anywhere I could spend some money on something to eat. I was still lonesome. Somehow I thought driving across the states would make me feel better. It only succeeded in making my heart hurt more.

But then something down the road caught my eye. A shack? No, it was a little store. I wondered what was it doing way out there. As it got closer I noticed a sign that read "MaryLou's" in big red letters. "We've got everything." That's quite confident, I thought.

When I went inside I was greeted with a lovely warm mixture of scents, somehow familiar. I closed my eyes, it felt natural. I picked out some of the scents I recognized: cinnamon, apple cider, new leather, cedar, and some other kind of spice... rosemary?

"Can I help you?" a woman with a curly, unruly hair was approaching from the back of the store. She wiped her hands on an apron she was wearing and had flour smeared across her face. I smiled at her unconsciously. It felt like home here in a way. I had missed the feeling for too long. She watched me for a moment and then asked, "You want a piece of fresh peach pie?"

"Sure."

The hours slipped by there in the store unnoticed. I'm not sure what kind of spell I was under, but the store had some magic to it. So did MaryLou. She chatted with me about several different things, her children, long grown and gone, her love "passed to a better place" as she called it. I was mainly quiet, but comfortable. She never prodded me for information about myself and I liked it that way. I shared things with her when I wanted to. It was a new freedom to have a conversation like that. I didn't want to leave and she didn't make me. It grew dark and I slept there in the back of the store where she made up a cot for me. It was so kind of her.

The next day she helped me load a bunch of things into my car. She insisted. I handed her some of my cash and she accepted graciously. But then after driving about an hour, I spotted the cash I'd given her sitting on the seat next to me. I shook my head in awe. How did that woman survive?

That's a question I've had on my mind ever since. On the drive back home I took the exact same route, to be sure to stop in and see MaryLou again. But her shop wasn't there. I never came across "MaryLou's" again. I've wondered about it and longed for it ever since.

Yet somehow it didn't surprise me. It was a magical place. That's why I say my guardian angel's name is MaryLou, the one that's got everything.

Tossed-Aside Teddy

His fabric once bright and new, now faded and worn so one could see the stuffing inside. His seams, tattered and coming apart. The fullness has been lost in his shoulders from being carried around, squeezed tightly in that little hand. His button nose is missing and his eyes have lost their shine.

He sits weakly now, flopped to one side, contemplating the life he's known. Contemplating the flashes of color he's seen. The brightness in the smiles, the rosy-cheeks, the laughter and hugs.

Inside he felt a hole where his heart used to be. It seemed to grow deeper within him and if he had the ability to produce tears, he would have. Anything to release the pain inside.

But all he could do was sit and think. It eased the pain a bit to recall the happier times. Yet once in a while he again became aware of his current residence and once again the hole in his chest would ache.

He went over his happy memories with ease, running through them in his mind. But once he would come to the time he was left behind by the one he loved most, his mind would jump over it like dancing over hot coals. He didn't wish to relive this memory.

Now he waited for whatever else was to come. Now he waited for what he thought was inevitable. Yet deep inside him was a sliver of a bright shining hope. Hope that once again, he would be loved.

The Paper Bag

It wasn't anyplace special.

It seemed like a dull place. Nothing ever happened there. I didn't think I would find anything interesting there. It was quiet. It was dark all except for the orange glow that wafted off the streetlight just outside.

It wasn't anyplace special.

I wouldn't find anything pivotal here. I wouldn't fix any of my problems here. I wouldn't make a new life here. All I did was knock.

The woman who opened the door was rather dull. She didn't seem very interesting. She was quiet. Seemed rather dark...all except for that orange glow.

I handed her the paper I carried. Because it was what I was paid to do. She turned to grab something to send back with me. I didn't know what it was. I never knew what they were. Then she caught my eye and I saw something different in them.

All at once it wasn't just a dull place. It wasn't dark and quiet. Somehow it became interesting. Her eyes were bright. They seemed out of place. Then, with a nod, she closed the door and I was forced to withdraw.

There was a story behind that door. It was her story. I didn't know what it was. I can't describe what it was.

Then for the first time, I broke the rule. I don't know why I did it. I just did.

I opened the brown bag she'd given me and peered inside.

This was a pivotal moment for me. This would fix my problems. This would start a new life for me. All at once I was part of their game and I knew how to play.

I left that place with a new spring in my step.

The place that wasn't anyplace special.

The Beginning of the Rest of Her Life

Her heart was excited today, and she fought off her body's exhilaration. She didn't want to be sweating too much. This was the day her life would begin.

She sat in front of the mirror, the women around her fussing away with her hair and make-up. She never fussed so much over herself. She wouldn't have aloud so much fussing except for today. Today she accepted with open arms. Because today was special. It made her mom feel better anyway to fuss.

The others busily were putting in earrings, applying mascara and lipstick, rouge. But she felt like she didn't need rouge. She felt like her heart's glow would give her face enough color. A small smile played on her lips and her hands shook as she looked down at her nails, which another woman was polishing in a lovely french manicure.

"Relax, Amber. Your fingers are so jittery! I really don't want to mess this up!" This was her best friend, Jen.

Jen had been there for her entire life. It felt like a bittersweet time between them. A matter of saying goodbye in a way...parting ways on how they had done every other thing in life together. In this, Amber was going on alone.

Jen met with Amber's gaze then for a moment. In an instant they communicated in perfect understanding. Although life was going on in different directions, they would always remain the best of friends. Amber fought back the tears now. They wouldn't help with her jitters.

The time seemed to fly by before she knew it. Suddenly she was standing in front of the screen door, looking out toward the car that would take her to the church. Her heart started to pound more now. Outside waited her destiny.

The others, in their pink dresses, helped her cross the threshold. They held the door open, lifted her white train, and held her sleek veil.

And she stepped through, on her way to meet it. Her destiny.

The Old Photograph

I look at that face, frozen in time. How I miss that face. The one with the plump smooth cheeks. The lips curved up. The eyes so innocent and pure. The happiness in the simple things. The pleasure from nature's gifts. Just enjoying the art of living.

Sometimes I find it hard to believe he was me.

I look at my hands, scarred and worked through much toils. My skin is rough now, toughened and weathered. My eyes have seen sorrows. They still sparkle but in watery tears of having seen the troubles of the world.

I look at that face, frozen in time. How I miss that face. It once was mine.

Breaking Sky

She was rushing today. Her heart pounding with anticipation. For it was Friday, and this was the day she would receiver her weekly letter from Bob. He was so far away, fighting a fight worth everything. She felt too many would not fight it, and that left people like Bob.

She was gathering her purse...her keys...where were her keys?

Rushing through the house her thoughts again turned to the moment he told her he was going. The moment she knew her fears of him leaving were coming true and she wasn't going to stop him. She didn't even make an effort to stop him. She knew he wanted to do it. That he would to stand for what was right...to be noble. Because that is who he is. They promised to write every week. He wouldn't miss one. And he hadn't.

She found her keys in her purse after all.

Rushing out the door, she had her baby on her hip and towed her 3 year old son behind her. Other thoughts ran through her mind, groceries that were needed...she had to stop at the bank...but her mind quickly turned again to the post office. First and foremost.

The sky was growing dark above them as she buckled her children in the car. Though she hardly noticed. Her mind was already going over the way it would feel to hold the crisp paper in her hands and her eyes stroking over the familiar curves of his handwriting. Somehow the curves had become their intimacy. The way to be close to him from so far away.

Finally, after struggling to get her car through the traffic...that annoying vehicle that was going the speed limit! She was at the post office. Leaving the car running with her children inside, she rushed to the PO Box and quickly opened it to find her letter.

It was empty.

As she returned to her vehicle, she tried to put it out of her mind. The clouds were gathering and the sky was darker than before. She looked up to it for a moment. It was hanging low. Waiting to break.

She drove to the grocery store. Her kids were such angels there. She watched while other small kids screamed about what they wanted but couldn't have while her little boy sat patiently in the cart playing with his little jet airplane and snacking once in a while on a cracker. How blessed she was. She couldn't imagine life any differently. But the missing letter still weighed in the back of her mind.

She went through the bank drive-through and then home. Life had slowed. She was just doing what she had to. She unloaded the children and headed to the door.

Then she saw it.

A notice. Red. Stuck to her front door and waving in the wind.

And as her heart broke, the thunder broke too. Finally the heavy clouds, like her heart, broke and it cried. It cried right along with her.

A Li'l Bi' O' Luck

His little face was dirty, all except where the tears slid down, making clean tracks. He was quiet. He didn't make a sound. Just let the big tears roll down in silence, as he sat outside on the park bench.

I wondered at his age. Was he close to ten? Or was he younger, aged by the sorrow I could see in his dirty hands, his bare toes... Where did he belong? Perhaps he didn't know himself.

I watched at a safe distance, longing to bring him comfort but unable to know how. His shouldered trembled every now and then in the sobs I knew were longing to escape his lips. Yet he remained silent.

I looked down at my own feet, guilt rising in my chest. Why wouldn't I go to him? Yet I knew I would not.

Then I heard a gasp of air and I returned my gaze to the park bench, but he was no longer seated there. My breath caught in my throat and I stood, searching in panic for where he had gone. Then I spotted him. He had only moved a few feet, and he was kneeling, his back to me.

I heard a soft sound coming from his direction. I didn't know what it was at first, but I made my way down the path, still keeping a safe distance from him and saw that he was smiling. He was gasping in little soft giggles and muted explanations of happiness. His eyes were looking down at his dirty hands, rested palm up on the paved ground. He sniffed and raised his arm to wipe away his tears with his sleeve. It left a clean smear across his dirty face. But his eyes didn't leave his hands, and his smile didn't leave his lips.

I got closer. Cautious. Unable to muster the courage to approach. He didn't move. Then suddenly, he looked up and straight at me.

I was discovered! I froze in mid-step, unsure how to respond. He was still grinning. Looking back down at his hands, he stood carefully. He held out his hand as though holding something, though his palm appeared to be empty. I wondered at his movement. Perhaps he'd gone mad. He approached me then, and all I could do was stand there. I was horrified at being discovered. I was unsure as to what I would do now.

He approached and I noticed he was much taller than me. I hadn't noticed until now, but his pants were much to short. His legs protruded from them like the legs of a stalk. And he still smiled, now at me.

"Look!" He whispered, "I've found my li'l bi' o' luck!" He held out his empty hand and then I saw it. A tiny spotted red bug. "He' ya go, li'l lady." He added, holding it out to me, and taking my much cleaner, pale hand in his own, he gently coaxed the little creature onto my skin. "Maybe i'll brigh'en you're day too, Miss." Then he walked away, strolling with added confidence. His shoulders were back, head arrect. It was as if all the sorrow from before had vanished from his dirty face.

I looked down at my pink skin and watched as the little lady opened her wings and jumped into the air to fly away. I watched as it soared in the air above me and away.

Looking after that dirty boy, I felt something had awakened within me. I hadn't the courage to go to him, to see if I could help. I was supposed to be well bread, I was supposed to be a lady. Yet, he hadn't hesitated to share his little bit of luck, as he'd called it, with me. I was determined now to never falter in bringing someone else a little bit of luck.

Every time I see a lady bug, I will remember that boy with the dirty face and tear-washed cheeks. The boy who's teeth-sparkling smile had brought me a little luck when I hadn't appeared to need it as he did.

Cows

They usually don't pay attention at all. They're usually far away and never notice my presence. But today as I moved along the grass I caught their eyes. Slowly each one gathered closer and closer, watching my every move with curiosity and almost wonder. How amazing could I be? I'm just a normal human being. What could I be doing that causes such content interest? I sit down on a rock then and watch them back, unfolding my napkin and sandwich. They're lined up perfectly before me. Immovable. Seems they're almost afraid to look away. Then the one in the center turns to her neighbor and I swear I hear her say the words:

"Do you think she's going to share or should we go on to plan B?"

Losing Control to Find It

It was in this moment that he realized this is the way he always wanted to go. Suddenly, all the fear left him and he stopped fighting it and sat back to take in the moment. The equipment beneath him stuttered and spun and he simply smiled.

He'd lived his life the way he had always hoped he would. He had learned to fly. The dream he had had as a child was fulfilled and even magnified beyond what he ever imagined. As a stunt flier, he had wowed the crowd. He had managed to do things in mid air that he never could have dreamed possible back when he first saw a plane fly above his head at the age of 7 years. Back then, he only imagined soaring through the clouds someday. He never dreamed he would do that and so much more.

The plane beneath him had been his friend, his comfort through every trial, his get-away from every difficulty. This was the friend he had spent so much of his life with, and this was the friend he would end it all with. Its spinning had now subsided and it was diving toward the earth.

He closed his eyes and felt that now he was truly flying. Inside and out.

It Was His Religion

I didn't understand him. My father would go out to that river every Sunday and would fish. My mother didn't allow anyone else to go with him. We would all go to service. What gave him the right to skip out of it? He called it his religion. I only remember my mother mentioning church to him once and I'll never forget his reply.

"I learn more out there at the water than I ever will from that man's preaching."

I wondered what he meant by that. What could he possibly learn from the river water? All I learned from the river was how to get my shoes dirty and my mother mad. Or perhaps how to catch a frog without his expecting anything.

But still, my father went out every Sunday.

Finally one Sunday I didn't bother asking my mother again. I asked him instead.

"Dad, can I go with you today?"

He didn't look up from the fly he was tying. He didn't look up to see the disapproving look in my mother's eyes. All he did was nod once and say, "Yes, I guess it's about time you try my religion."

My mother didn't have anything to say to that. She just pursed her lips and went back to getting my little sister's ribbon tied in her hair. I knew she was upset, but I didn't care. I didn't want to go to church today. I didn't want to sit in the pew and hear the same man talk about the same things again. I wanted to understand my father.

I helped my dad carry his equipment to the truck. It made me feel important in a way. I also felt a little out of place. I was so used to wearing my uncomfortable Sunday best on this day of the week. It felt a bit odd to be dressed in my play clothes.

It wasn't long and we were standing at the river together. He hadn't said a word. Once in a while he would whistle through his teeth as he tied a fly to his line. I sat on a rock next to him as he waved the pole over his head and into the water.

It was so still. There was not even a breeze in the air. The water was crystal-like and showed the reflection of the trees like glass. The only motion was my father and his line, and the slight ripple it made in the water. It was quiet. It continued to be this way for some time. Once in a while there would be a slight jerk to his line and he'd reel in a fish just like that. It looked easy enough to me. I could have fallen asleep if the rock I sat upon was more comfortable.

Then after what felt like an hour or so, he turned to me. "Come over here and try this out."

I took a hold of the rod and he showed me how to work it. It seemed easy enough.

Then I felt a little tug and my father told me to start reeling. So I did.

All at once the tension was gone and the line came in quickly.

I'd broken the line.

He told me to be more gentle. He told me that the big fish that bite are going to put up a fight, that I have to be patient and they will get tired before me.

Then he took back the pole.

And I resumed by position on the rock.

What happened next I will never forget. I will forever remember the way it was. There was a tug on his line and away he went. He was in the water! He kept a hold of his pole and started splashing through the water. I didn't understand it. What was he doing? Doesn't that scare the fish away? But there was still tension on his line. He headed down the river and I followed along the bank watching until he came up with a fish the size of his whole arm.

I didn't understand it then, but I never forgot it. Now I understand what made it a religion.

We may fight with things to the point of breaking, but if we have the patience to hold on, if we are gentle and submissive, we will come off conquerer. He had waited for the fish to get tired. He had kept his line from breaking. And he had won.

I didn't go with my father on Sunday again after that. I went back to church as Mother said. But I never forgot the experience and I never will.

Meeting in Traffic

He was so angry he had been cut off like that. The person in front of him hadn't even signaled and was now creeping in front of him at a snails pace. As if cutting in front of him made it so they could go anywhere anyway!

She was in such a hurry! Her daughter was singing as we speak and she knew her big brown eyes were going to be sparkling with tears when she would arrive too late. She had to make it on time! But this traffic was going so slow!

She had a wedding to get to. She was the maid of honor. She was one of the most important to be there and she didn't want to let down her best friend.

He was a father of two children riding in his back seat. He didn't have a wife anymore. She had left him long ago. His children echoed each other back and forth, "Are we there yet?", "Are we there yet?", "Are we there yet?" He sighed and looked in his review mirror.

He saw her face, just looking back to the road in front of her and putting away some kind of make-up. Lipstick maybe? She looked tense but beautiful. Dressed up in some kind of formal wear. Perhaps she was late for a special occasion... How lovely she was. He wished he could meet her perchance.

Suddenly the car ahead of him took off and smashed into the SUV in front of it. What was going on? He looked through his review mirror again at the woman and she had a shocked look on her face. Was she getting out? Yes, she was getting out! "I'll get out too." He thought.

"You kids stay in the car." He told his children as he opened his door.

The man driving the vehicle in front of him was out of his car already and he was rushing forward to the SUV in front of him, shouting about being insulted by the person driving the SUV. The woman got out of her SUV now. She had tears streaking down her cheeks. They shouted at each other. Something about a daughter's school program and it went on as if nothing else in the world mattered but this instant.

The father looked back at the Maid of Honor and winked. She had stopped in her tracks, staring at the spectacle in front of them.

"I have a wedding to get to, you know." She said. Her voice was soft even in her frustration.

"Well, I'd imagine it will be a while before you get there." The father spoke back.

All cars around were still, stopped in their tracks. Their cars were too close together. There was no moving and the man and woman were now on their cell phones. The moment seemed to be a long one.

But when he looked back at the maid, she smiled. How unexpected.

"I guess we should just make the best of it..." She said, reaching into her car's open window. Out came a bottle of champagne. "I don't think these are going to make it to the wedding."

The father looked through the window at his children. They were throwing popcorn at each other.

"You have people in your car?" She asked, stepping forward to observe. "Ah. Well, champagne isn't something to have on the road anyway." She hurried back to her car, set down the bottle and withdrew a box of crackers with some fancy cheese spread.

The father smiled. The shouting behind him had risen again, but it seemed like background music in her presence. "I'm John."

"Jasmine."

(Photo by br3w0k)

Finding Purpose

There once was a little flower. Budding anew in the green. She looked at the ground and wondered what world she had been set into. She saw the green around her and wondered at her purpose. She contemplated as she grew. She hesitated at her own worth.

One day she lifted her head a little. She saw the other flowers. She saw they were beautiful and wondered how she fit in. She couldn't believe she herself could be quite that lovely. She couldn't comprehend she herself could bring such happiness as they.

She lifted her head higher one day to look at the big blue sky. She felt the warmth of the light above touch her face and she felt happy in her place. She wondered at the world she was set into. Then she caught sight of a lovely thing above her. Soaring so high and swirling in the sky. She felt her little heart inside her would burst as she watched it. The beautiful thing gracefully gliding in the wind that touched her slightly. Oh, how she wished she could join with this thing. How she wished she could soar up so high in the wind. Sighing, she settled herself in the earth. Feeling as if she didn't know her own worth.

The bird soared so high in the sky up above. She felt the wind blowing her feathers and sighed. She looked down to the earth below and wondered at the sight she saw. The loveliness below her sent her heart soaring higher than before. For below her she saw flowers of all kinds and colors. But one among the others drew her eye. It's head faced toward her with such magical glory. It's color was bright and contrasted with those around it. Oh how she wished she could be much like it.

Inspired by a friend's post here.

Washing Away the Tears

It had been years since Lily had been to this place. The years had worn away on her memory. Much of the wear and tear she welcomed. She had blocked out all the memories she had of this place. But being here made her feel like she had never left. It seemed like yesterday that she was a little girl again, smiling into his face. They were only children. Yet their world seemed perfect together.

She walked through the sand, feeling it seep between her toes, and remembered how he had told her they would get married someday. It made her smile to remember his child-like face, his little sweaty hand in hers, his big dark eyes and how they sparkled.

Then she saw it. It was barely visible, worn and smoothed out by the years of wind and water. But it was still there. She couldn't believe it was still there.

She ran her fingers over the sand stone and remembered him carving it out. The imperfect heart shape and their initials inside. G + L

Now her heart began to hurt. The reminder was plain before her. The deep wound to the right side of the heart was from a rock she had thrown at it after the accident.

She remembered feeling her body convulse in sobs, but not being able to hear them through the storm. She remembered the feel of her long wet hair sticking to her face, and the salty water sticking to her legs and clothing.

She remembered seeing George's cold, still body laying in the sand.

Lily blinked the memory away.

Suddenly this place didn't seem as warm. She looked up to the sky to see the sun had hidden behind a cloud. The sand beneath her feet was suddenly cooler than before. She stood and looked back down at the worn heart on the sand stone.

The tears rolled down her cheeks again, but this time she welcomed them. She needed this. Somehow letting the tears flow made the pain in her chest ease a little.

Softly she whispered into the silence, "I'm sorry, George." As she turned to slowly walk back across the sand the wind blew back her hair and she felt lighter somehow. Her lungs drew in a long, full breath and she felt like she hadn't felt so good in a long time. Somehow she felt she could hear him whispering back.

The glow in her chest came back. She looked up to the sky and the sun had come out again. She wiped away the tears on her cheeks, closed her eyes, and smiled into the sky. She couldn't help it. She was happy and it felt so good to be this happy again after so long.
"I love you, too."

Interrupted Celebration

I bit into the caramel apple and felt it stick to my teeth. I rubbed it with my tongue to help it dissolve. All around me was the sound of laughter and joy. The festivities were so exciting! I was filled with bliss as the bright colors around me seemed to be brighter today in the sunshine. Today was a day of celebration! I waved my miniature flag in patriotic loyalty and looked around to find my dad.

Suddenly all the colors around me blurred together. All the sounds became dull and muted. Before me I could see the tip of a gun extended from within a man's coat. It seemed everything else around me was out of focus and I could see nothing but it.

They are here.

But as the explosive sounds began, my breath was gone. I felt so faint. The colors whirling around me suddenly went dark as my body hit the pavement and my caramel apple rolled from my fingertips and away.

Suspects

I was waiting at the bus stop and the phone in the phone booth started to ring. My friend and I were the only ones around for miles. Why would this phone be ringing? So my friend thought she should answer it.

"He-Hello?

What? Who is this?

No!

What?

Hello?

...Oh crap..."

I watched as her face was confused, then shocked, then afraid...and I wished she hadn't answered the phone call.

"The voice told me not to get on the bus. To walk down the street to the east and not to look back when I hear the bus. He threatened if I did I would be killed! Oh, Candy, what do we do?! This threat could be for both of us! Come with me!"

I was frozen in place. What had we gotten ourselves into? Nevertheless I wasn't about to get on the bus with that kind of threat.

So together, we walked the road. In the middle of the wilderness. No life in front or behind. And waited.

We didn't say anything to each other. Both our minds were working too fast for conversation. A few minutes later we heard the bus behind us. I saw Shirley's eyes dart to the side for an instant and almost grabbed her arm.

"Don't look back."

BOOM!

I woke up on the ground with Shirley beside me. We were covered in black dust and laying on the side of the road. It was dark. I looked up to see a car idling on the road. A note taped to the door read in bold letters. "GET IN AND DRIVE" I shook Shirley's shoulder to wake her up. She mumbled something incoherent and rolled to her side.

I got up and ripped the letter from the door, reading the small print.

"This car is for your convenience. Take it where you need to go and abandon it on the side of the road. Thank you for your cooperation."

We did just that.

The next morning, Shirley and I awoke in our hotel room remembering what had happened and wondering if it had been real. I would have thought it was a dream except that she had been there with me.

Shirley flipped the TV on while I was in the bathroom doing my make-up.

"Candy!"

I came out and stared. There on the news was a story about an explosion on the bus in North Dakota that had killed a Senator on his way home from a camping trip with his family. There was no evidence of who had planted the bomb. There was one survivor who had left the bus moments before the explosion. He believes it came from two women he saw walking away from the scene. Police are investigating.

Abandoned Rose

It was the most romantic night of my life. I couldn't remember being any higher than I was tonight. The moon was out, the stars were bright, and I saw his eyes twinkle as we strolled near the pond, hand in hand. I held his rose in one hand, drinking in its scent now and then as we chatted of life, love, and anything else that we wanted to share. I was closer to him than I've been to anyone. We slowed and embraced. Our faces touched and his lips caressed my cheek.

Then she appeared.

She was crying, holding her face in her hands, and watching us with so much pain in her eyes.

I broke away from him as she approached, mascara streaking down her cheeks. Her eyes were focused only on him. It was as if I was invisible. My happiness was shattered as she grew inches from his frowning, concerned face. She whispered the words "How could you?", and placed something small into his hand now parted from mine. Before she turned, her sad eyes flickered to me and caught my eye. They focused on me for a moment, a glint of anger and hatred appeared, and then something else...admiration? No...a longing envy. She then turned and sprinted away, letting a gut-wrenching sob escape from her lips.

My heart broke for her.

Then it broke for me as he turned away from me, hiding the sparkling object she had given him.

I knew what it was. The rose slipped from my fingers. I wanted to punch him. I wanted to scream at him for her. But instead I walked away. I abandoned him just like I had abandoned the rose that now floated near the rocks at the edge of the pond.

No one touched it.