Tag Archives: Risk

Threadbare

Standard
Threadbare

[Written on December 10, 2013, this was posted to my first attempt at creating a blog.  It has a good message and I wanted to share it once again.  Image Credit]

Threadbare

“This, to me, represents love…” The letter was written to explain why they had to divorce. She shook her head in irritation. Her soon-to-be-ex-husband had no concept of love and staying strong through the hard times. She continued lost in thought when she almost tripped over the child curled up against the wall in the street.

Streaks of dirt only highlighted the deeper dirt that covered the child. His clothing was threadbare, the patches in the knees worn through. He didn’t meet her eyes. She saw many passed him by giving him no notice. But this was a child. All children deserved notice.

Kneeling down, she asked him, “Where are your parents?” He tilted his head as if uncertain what she said. He tugged at his ear and then she realized he was using a rudimentary sign language. She only drove into town to straighten out some legal matters. “Legal matters”…such a cold way to refer to the dissolution of a marriage. Still, she could not ignore this child. Decision made, she held out her hand.

The boy studied the hand with its neatly painted nails. He could not recall a clean hand offered his way. People on the streets would drag him along, making sure he made it to a shelter to get something to eat…most of the time. Sometimes, though, he hid amongst the trash, disappearing. She shook her hand with a little impatience. He saw her mouth move, knowing she was trying to tell him something. Finally, he slowly took her hand.

She hesitated at first before fully grasping the hand. She could feel the greasy grasp slide over her fingers. She fought against her instinct. She told herself, “It’s just dirt! It’s just dirt!” She pushed back the desire to put a handkerchief between their hands. Shaking away the physical discomfort, she continued walking down the sidewalk. The attorney wouldn’t be far and he could advise her about the child.

“Odd,” she thought. “My problem with dirt…with unclean things is what pushed my husband and me apart. Even…getting personal makes me physically ill. Yet, I am holding the hand of this dirty child.” She looked over at him as he squirmed a little and caught him scratching. “…this dirty, LICE RIDDEN child.” Reaching the entrance to the attorney, she turned towards him.

“I know you can’t understand me, but you need to trust me.” He stared at her uncomprehendingly, sniffing. Then he took his hand and dragged it across the offending nose. Fighting nausea, she shakily took that hand back into hers as they climbed the steps. “I can do this…I can do this…” she continued to chant as they opened the door.

“Hello, Mrs. Sanders. You’re a few minutes ear…” The receptionist cut her statement short. “Oh..oh…ummm…what’s this?”

“This is a who…and I’m not sure but we need to figure something out.” The boy stared out the window as rain began to fall. At least, he thought, I am dry for now.

Written in response to Finish That Thought. The prompt: This, to me, represents love.

Advertisements

Human 76 is on its way!

Standard
Human 76 is on its way!

Scheduled to release this Friday, June 17, 2016, soon you will all be able to enter in this amazing world that developed from a post-apocalyptic photo shoot.  Fourteen authors and two fabulous editors combine their talents to bring this world that centers around one character, Ghabrie, and her struggles to survive in a fractured world.

Human 76 Cover

Now for a sneak peak:

UNDERNEATH by Denise Callaway

“I will be glad when this project is complete,” responded Cievette dully.  The tunnel rats had a knack for thievery, stealing anything from food and clothing to power.  They only found independence in the deep spaces beneath the cities.  Over the years, they had learned to network with the rats of other cities, sharing skills, trading resources.  Cievette’s skill was one of those resources, holding her in a rare regard.  Her assignments were often dangerous and having Eisle to cover her had gotten her out of a tight spot or two.

Taking over at the code screen, Cievette studied what Eisle had managed to unravel.  “Not bad, Eisle…keep this up and they are going to start sending you out on your own.”

His quiet laugh rumbled as he settled in near the door.  Commander Harkins made it clear that Cievette and her safe return was his assignment.    He had only learned to rattle a bit of code to pass the time.  Besides, Cievette was a patient teacher, for all her complaints.  She glanced his way as his eyes closed, appearing to be asleep, though she knew he was alert on some level.  In fact, he was watching her through veiled lids as she dug through the code.  The projected image of the interface glittered around her fingers like jewels. Where his code barely scratched the surface, she would dig trenches through those seemingly impenetrable fields.   

 

 

VisDare 140: Hesitation

Standard
VisDare 140: Hesitation

The park welcomed her as she stepped onto the walking path.  Even here she restrained herself.  Trapped within the decorum prescribed by society, she walked a straight line, followed the normal dictates.  Breathing in the scent of the wildflowers, she lost herself into the scenery and the music playing through her headphones.  Her dreams started to come alive.  The stories awakened as she took each step.  Lost in the story she started to twirl in the embodiment of her main character, captivated by the magic.  Hesitation then societies rules stepped in.  She marched forward.  A pair of walkers walked by and waved as they passed one another.  People would not understand the free spirit, she told herself.  She repressed the skip.  She curtailed the dance.  This was a place for walking.  Then the wind swirled around her.  Laughing, she embraced the dance and twirled with it.

 

[This was written in response to VisDare 140.  Photo credit:  50 Best Black and White Photos.

Off the beaten path

Image

Off the beaten path

Sometimes as I trail through my world, I find myself looking wistfully towards paths less traveled. Should I exit the norm? Should I take the more treacherous router? Should I take a risk? Then I find myself introspectively thinking…why have I never done this. I am too much of a river following the path of least resistance. I do what is expected. Sometimes the dreamer wants to fly, though…like the seeds of a dandelion.