Friday, November 1, 2024

NaNoWrimo Takes Me Away Again

November has come again. A time when my mind turns to pie and words. As my faithful readers probably can guess, I might not have much to share here, but don’t give up hope. Maybe this is the year my muse will inspire me daily and whip up a fire within me that leads to a completed novel for you and I to share.

Now for a pop quiz:


1. Are you wishing I would finish Opera’s story?

2. Are you excited for something new?

3. Would you share my writing with others if I did the unbelievable and finished something?

4. For those who have read my shorter pieces, what ones stood out to you?


Looking forward to some answers to my pop quiz. Email me or leave a comment below or private message me on Facebook. If you found your way here, I know you have at least one of those methods to contact me. 


A small update, I hit my quota today, so that is a step in the right direction.

Truly Horrifying [RANT]

In an effort to get the blood flowing to my poor blocked brain, I have been wandering random neighborhoods. The decorations for the upcoming celebration of Halloween are phenomenal. Zombies are crawling out of formerly pristine lawns. Witches and ghosts are floating from trees, dancing erratically when the wind picks up. Pumpkins are everywhere reminding us to spice them up and eat them before they come for us—we are spicy enough without a mix of cinnamon and her spicy friends.


Then an array of signs choosing red, white and blue, over orange and black crop up on every other lawn. Some of them speak of logical review of the platforms put forth by our choices for various political positions. Others declare the worst quality of the candidate as if that proves enough reason to vote for them. Yes, I have seen them for most of the major candidates. This does not reassure me in any way about the direction in which our country and our world is headed.


So I am begging you to look beyond your initial hatred or disrespect for one candidate or love for the other and look at where the country is headed. And, for love of all that is good, please be kind and loving to your neighbors, even if their beliefs or political leanings differ from your own. We vote so we have the chance to show what we want our country to become not to lower ourselves to animals and start tearing out throats because of a hint of danger that may not truly be there.


I did see one sign that wasn’t terrifying though.




He isn’t running for office though. He simply offers an example of turning the other cheek and choosing to lift others up instead of kicking them down.


Oy, just realized this never posted. My apologies.

Friday, October 18, 2024

Halloween Poetry

I know, dear readers, I am having an existential crisis about the novel I have been sharing here. It might need reworked from the ground up. In the meantime, I offer you these small tokens of appreciation to amuse you. Thank goodness for poetry writing prompts and the inspiration of spooky season.


Haunted House


This house haunts me

Quakes and grows 

It worships, vaunts me

But no one knows

How its walls

Squeeze my heart

How its calls

Tear me apart

I seek it and only find

Tarnished memories, left behind

So how can a house haunt still

When it has no walls to fill?


Housed Haunt


Give me walls, well-remembered

Familiar hearth, warm embers

For no body clothes this soul 

Years unrestrained, terrible toll 

But I’d pay it to watch still

Though some say it will

Haunt me even as I haunt these halls

And keep me locked within these walls

Yet at home I will ever be

As long as none vanquish me


Back to Snack


Red drops 

Heart pops

Sweet treat

Slow feet

Love this 

Vamp kiss

My snack

Fights back

But I

Deny

Release

Fights cease

Accept

Inept

Human

I can

Snack now

See how

Friday, August 16, 2024

Chapter 18: Nature

Another offering for my faithful readers. I feel like I need to sleep more before I write, but when will I find that time?


Chapter 1: Nature
Chapter 2: Nurture
Chapter 3: Nurture
Chapter 4: Nurture
Chapter 5: Nature
Chapter 6: Nurture
Chapter 7: Nurture
Chapter 8: Nurture
Chapter 9: Nurture
Chapter 10: Nature
Chapter 11: Nature
Chapter 12: Nurture
Chapter 13: Nurture
Chapter 14: Nature
Chapter 15: Nurture
Chapter 16: Nurture
Chapter 17: Nature


How could the second day of school compare to the first? Nerves have settled. Connections have been renewed. New friendships might even have seeds planted in young hearts. And even so early in the year, some lucky kids already had something to look forward to each day. For some it was the chance to see friends. Others can’t wait to learn. Then there’s me, looking for my sister who wasn’t my sister though I felt I had known her since before she was born.


Maggie found me outside the school, so I could walk her to class. She declared this the best part of her day before we parted with a hug that reassured me she would feel exactly the same excitement on the last day of school. I returned her hug and offered a grin that mirrored her own. With one last backward glance, she disappeared into her classroom. I turned toward my own, ruminating on the expectations of a second day some more.


Teachers had been assessed. Seats had been claimed. A certain order had fallen into our young lives that summer never seemed able to offer. Of course, we weren’t orderly enough to already know the new schedule and expectations of a new classroom and a new teacher. 


Ms. Compton smiled at us from under her tight, dark curls as she gently rapped on her desk to attract our attention. Her sharp, dark eyes focused on those who didn’t immediately look up until she claimed the attention of even the most wandering minds.


“Silent reading time has ended. Not that you were as quiet as you could be, please focus on me now.”


As our minds followed our eyes to concentrate on her, a solid knock resounds from the open door. A tall slender figure stands just inside the doorframe with a smaller figure hiding in his shadow. A well-worn, dark suit hangs from his shoulders with folds of cloth speaking of weight lost since its purchase. He glanced around the room, smiling at the familiar faces that have now turned to us.


“If I may, Ms. Compton,” he gestured with his hand for an invitation to enter.


“Of course, Principal Johnson,” she smiled up at him.


He shambled into the room with his shadow slowly following in his wake. Even from my vantage toward the back of the room, his blue eyes startled me with their light shade. Shaggy golden hair fell like a fine mop over his forehead and covered them for a moment. He threw his head back to reveal those eyes once more, but he quickly tilted his gaze back toward the floor to avoid making eye contact with any of us.


The principal leaned in to whisper quietly to our teacher. She nodded understanding and turned back to the class. “We have a new student this year. Please get to know him and make him feel welcome. His name is…” she paused to look at him as her lip quirked upward, “Doll Lindquist.”


He frowned at her and turned pale, rebellious eyes toward the classroom as snickers erupted around me.


“You may sit in the empty seat next to Opera,” our teacher waved her hand magnanimously in my direction. “Raise your hand, Opera.”


I raised my hand reluctantly. Doll bobbed his head and shuffled toward me with whispered voices for theme music. The teacher turned her eyes back to the principal as he leaned in to say something more. I turned to whisper to my new neighbor.


“Your name is Doll?” I blinked as I met his unflinching gaze.


“It’s short for Rudolph. What of it?” He glared at me so severely that the chuckle in my throat stifled and faded away.


I cleared my throat and extended my hand, hoping to distract him from the shame coloring my cheeks. He grinned at me and took my hand in a firm handshake. I sighed at the implied acceptance of my unspoken apology.


“So your name is Opera?”


Now I tried not bristle at his teasing tone. “Yes, it is. What of it?”


“I like it,” he offered a shy smile.


As the teacher and principal continued their whispered discourse, other students found bravery.


“All the girls want to play with their doll,” the other boys chanted, “Especially Opera.”

 

“Cover your ears before she sings.” One of the boys chortled but no one joined in his gaiety, too dense to get it or too smart to laugh at such a poor insult.


I rolled my eyes at them and turned back to our conversation with a raised voice, “They’re just jealous.”


Ms. Compton cleared her throat. Then we realized the principal had stepped back out of the room. As if we practiced synchronicity, every student turned to face her, folding our hands in front of us on our desks.


She shook her head at us, “That was very rude of you. It is time to return to learning, but first I will remind you that we practice kindness in our classroom.”





Friday, August 9, 2024

Chapter 17: Nature

Sorry this is so short. My muses keep trying to direct me to other tales to tell, so I have been struggling to tell this particular story. I hoping to get them back on board with completing this one soon. Feel free to send inspiring treats ;)


Second grade awaited.  I nervously held my mother’s hand as we left the house. By the time we reached the school, I’d calmed my butterflies enough to quickly exit the car and blow her a kiss before waving goodbye. She waved goodbye and then bowed her head a little. As she slowly pulled away in response to a chorus of honks from the other parents in carline, I swear I saw her raise her right hand to flick something from her cheek. I didn’t give it much thought as they were diverted before they could form. 


“Opera!” An excited voice greeted me seconds before a tiny figure slammed into my body with such force that we barely managed to stay on our feet.


Enveloped in a rib-crushing hug, I gasped out my own greeting, “Maggie.”


“Our school,” she exclaimed happily, gesturing toward the brick edifice as she grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bank of double doors.


A tall man with salt and pepper hair nodded at me in recognition as he opened the door for us, “Have a great first day girls.”


“We will! We will!” Maggie exclaimed excitedly, squeezing my hand with surprising strength.


“You know we’re not in the same class, right?” I try to stem the tide of her enthusiasm.


“But we’re in the same school, so I get to see you.”


I smiled and squeezed back, “In the mornings, at least. I can walk you to class.”


“It’s this way,” she enthusiastically agreed by dragging me down the hall to a doorway in which a familiar face stood smiling at us.


“Opera, I didn’t know you had a baby sister. I should have guessed though,” my former kindergarten teacher, Ms. Madison beamed down at us, taking in our clasped hands and excited smiles.


“She’s not my sister,” I looked down at my shiny new shoes.


“But I should be,” Maggie assured her.


“Sometimes friends become the sisters we pick,” Ms. Madison says sagely, “It was nice to see you again, Opera.”


I hugged them both and then hurried down the hallway toward my own classroom.

Friday, July 19, 2024

Chapter 16: Nurture

Chapter 1: Nature
Chapter 2: Nurture
Chapter 3: Nurture
Chapter 4: Nurture
Chapter 5: Nature
Chapter 6: Nurture
Chapter 7: Nurture
Chapter 8: Nurture
Chapter 9: Nurture
Chapter 10: Nature
Chapter 11: Nature
Chapter 12: Nurture
Chapter 13: Nurture
Chapter 14: Nature
Chapter 15: Nurture

Moving into the apartment increased our number of neighbors exponentially. Our old house sat far enough away from the next on on either side that accidentally bumping into our neighbors required work. In a multi story apartment building, neighbors live on top of each other. Maggie and I loved it. Father immersed himself in work and remained oblivious to the change in environment. Mother seemed to feel the weight of our neighbors on her back. 


While we examined door decor for hints as to which apartment would prove most profitable for trick-or-treating on Halloween night, mother tried to hurry us along to avoid inadvertent interactions. Father would be taking us around our new “neighborhood” later, so that she wouldn’t be subjected to the culture shock. I couldn’t hide my excitement to get to know more of the people I could hear in the halls and whose meals left a lingering and intriguing aromas in the halls.


“Are you sure about this costume?” Mother pouted, holding up the devil costume Maggie insisted on at the store. She put it down to show her the fairy costume she preferred. “Or would you like lovely wings like Sissy?”


Maggie crossed her arms, pouted, and tapped her foot. This was at least the twentieth time someone had asked that question, but she refused to be swayed. I particularly enjoyed swaying at that point because I had my wings on already. I loved the way they brushed my head and back as they moved. And the genius who designed them had added little bells so a tinkling choir sang for me every time I moved.


Maggie smiled as the bells went off again, but then directed a frosty look at our mother and firmly declared, “Devil.”


Mother hesitated, so Maggie lunged toward her preferred costume. She tackled it with skill worthy of the NFL. Before any protests could be voiced, she wrestled the one piece suit over the clothing she already wore. The headband hung askew after she wrestled it into place, but she grinned at us proudly.


“Twick ow Tweat!” She declared proudly.


We had both been practicing the night’s catchphrase for over a week, but she was still far from mastering the r sound. Mother and I couldn’t help but smile. Her mispronunciation and enthusiasm added to the charm of  her masquerading as a devil as blond curls framed an angelic face. She blinked her bright blue eyes at us—the picture of innocence.


“Well, you are adorable,” mother conceded and handed us each a sturdy orange bag featuring a Jack-o-lantern face leering back at us. “Stay together. Stay with your father. I’ll see you when you get back.”


“We’ll bring you something nice,” Father leaned in to kiss her forehead.


“We don’t live in a place that gives out high end candy for the kids to share with their parents anymore,” she lamented.


“Maybe they’ll surprise us.”


Mother’s half-hearted, “Maybe,” didn’t even try to sound enthusiastic as she placed a witch hat on her head to wait for trick or treaters. 


As we followed him closely to the first door, Father turned around and knelt in front of us, “Want to help me make mama’s night?”


We nodded enthusiastically. He grinned and reached into his pocket. He produced two full size chocolate bars from mama’s favorite brand. He tucked her favorite into my bag and her least favorite into Maggie’s.


“Now those are for mama, but tell her one of the neighbors gave them to you, okay?” We nodded understanding, but we wouldn’t have thought to tell her anything else.


As we knocked on doors, our bags grew heavier and heavier. So did our memories. Our new neighbors reveled in meeting us, sharing their names and little tidbits about themselves.


“I’m Joan. I do flower arrangements and corsages. You know for daddy daughter dances or date night with the wife.”


“I’m Wanda. My girls used to have blond curls like that but now they have dark hair like me.”


“An angel and a devil? I’m Carl and this requires a photo opp… Can I see your phone? You girls stand back there on either side of the hall. A little further back. Closer together. Perfect. What do you think?”


We raced forward to see the photo and collided with each other. When father finished untangling us and scooping spilled candy back into bags, Carl handed over the phone. We giggled. Our new friend had positioned us perfectly, so devil Maggie and angel Opera stood perfectly on our father’s shoulders.


“So you’re a photographer,” father deduced.


“Yes, I am, and I have something special for such charming models and their father,” he reached into his candy bowl and pulled out three of mother’s absolute favorite candy bars, “you have a nice night and a Happy Halloween.”


“Oh. We will,” I peeked into my bag, now more excited to go home and see mother than before.


Father nodded his agreement as the door closed. He even raised a hand to his eye. At that time, I still believed daddy’s don’t cry, so I briefly wondered what he was wiping away. Then he grabbed Maggie’s hand. Usually, she and I are inseparable, so they started down the stairs confident I was only steps behind them.


I should have been right behind them, but as I stepped forward, my left wing jerked oddly. I stopped to try to fix it, but nothing I did helped. I gave up and rushed to the stairs. The hallway before me stood empty except for a few skinny zombies and witches, clinging to doorframes. As I gazed up the hallway in confusion.


“Father? Maggie?”


A doorway further down the hall clicked open. I breathed a sigh of relief. That must be them. But a woman with dark eyes and dark hair and the most perfect face I had ever beheld stepped out of the apartment. We stared at each other. My eyes held wonder. Her eyes wondered who I was and why I stood alone in that hallway. 


She slung her purse over her shoulder  and offered me a reassuring smile. My mouth dropped open. I tried to keep it closed but that already perfect face became beyond perfection when she smiled. I wanted to be that beautiful, right then, because angels had that kind of beauty. As my mind processed this in the slow way that a child’s mind works sometimes, my mouth remained open. She looked over her shoulder to reassure herself no one else had stepped into the hall. Then she cautiously stepped toward me with one dark hand extended like one might approach a feral cat.


When she got within a few feet, she stopped. She got down to my level, executing a squat in high heels with more grace than most of us can master it in cross trainers.


“I’m Mandy,” she pointed to her heart with her thumb as a soft melodious voice filled the air with her musical words, “I don’t think we have met.”


I nodded agreement. She searched her thoughts for a better question.


“Do you live here?” I nodded again.


“Do you know where your apartment is?” I shook my head at this and the smile completely disappeared.


A cheer erupted from the door to my right. We both turned toward it. The smile returned as her face brightened.


“Did you lose your parents while trick-or-treating?”


A nod from me and her improved mood loosened my tongue, “I’m Opera.”


“That’s a lovely name. And I think I can help you, Opera.”


“You can?”


“Yes. As you can hear,” she pauses for another uproarious cheer from behind the closed door, “The Haymonds throw a big party every year. If you knock on their door, they just pull you in. It is almost impossible to get out again because no one can hear how good your reason is to get out—even if you are looking for your daughter.”


I nodded understanding, so she continued, “Now I have to run out and grab more candy for when you knock on my door, so I can’t go into the party, but if you knock on the door, they will help you find your folks, okay?”


I nodded agreement and stepped toward the door, but she gently placed her hand on my shoulder, “Before you do that, I think I can help you with one more thing. Hold still.”


I obeyed, standing still as soldier while she adjusted something on my wings. I felt the straps pull a couple of times and then nothing.


“How does that feel?” She asked.


I shook my wings. They tinkled beautifully. They pulled just right—neither to the left nor the right. They didn’t pinch or poke. I looked up at my newly minted guardian angel and offered one emphatic word.


“Perfect.”


“Good. Now I am going to stand over here. When you see your folks, give me a thumbs up. If you don’t see them, a thumbs down will let me know to come rescue you. Ready?”


I nodded and knocked loudly on the door. It swung open almost immediately. An older gentleman with vampire teeth and blood dripping down his chin looked right over me.


“Mandy? How did you knock from way over there? Come on in. Muhahaha. Vou know you are always velvome here.”


She smiled and pointed down where I was avidly searching the crowd for any sign of my father. I had no trouble spotting him as he had hoisted Maggie up on his shoulders. He seemed to be trying to navigate through the crowd, but every person he came near stopped him to coo over Maggie. As she wailed until her face turned beet red, they tried to comfort her. Then she glanced toward the door, perhaps, hoping for egress and found what she really wanted. Her wails changed to something different. Even from my vantage point, I could make out her one word scream. 


“Sissy! Sissy! Sissy!”


She reached her arms toward me and father turned to face the door. Relief flooded over him and tension seeped out of his shoulders. My attention returned to the vampire before me who bent over so his face hovered inches from my face.


“You know we have a devil in here. I think an angel would even the odds.”


“Yes, sir,” I said politely, turning to give Mandy a thumbs up.


She smiled at me and turned away but not before offering me a finger wave. I waved back. Then four arms encircled me.


“Sissy, I’m so sorry,” Father said in a rush, “I thought you were right there and then this nice man opened the door and pulled us in. I realized immediately that you weren’t with us, but I just couldn’t see, to get back to the door.”


“Our parties are like that, but they are so much fun,” a female vampire joined us in the doorway.


An aroma of rubbing alcohol and grape juice emanated from her as leaned in to peer at first me and then my sister. “My goodness. You both look like angels, but I think this one in red here wouldn’t turn her nose down so much at how much we love to party.”


She took a swig from her glass as her husband leaned in to whisper in her ear. She frowned at him for a moment, then cast a look at us and softened up.


“Let me get you kids some treat bags and let you get back to trick-or-treating. My husband, the expert on childhood since he is in his second one, has reminded me of the importance of this night.”


She returned a moment later with paper bags overflowing with goodies. They filled up about a quarter of our bags all on their own. She offered my father her hand. He shook it tentatively and she laughed.


“Don’t look so scared. I really don’t bite. It was nice to meet you, James. We should have you and the missus and the girls over for dinner sometime.”


“That sounds lovely. I will have Livie get in touch with you.”


“Yep. We’re in the directory.”


With a few more prolonged goodbyes, particularly from Maggie’s new fan club at the party, father made sure he firmly grabbed each of us by the hand and led us down the hallway. As we reached the last door before Mandy’s, she stepped out onto the landing, clutching a large paper bag to her chest as she fumbled with her keys. She winked at me as she disappeared into her apartment. Her neighbor didn’t answer, which I had assumed from their lack of decorations, so we moved on to her door.


We knocked. Giggles erupted inside. The door slowly creaked open, though I am pretty sure someone inside made the noise. Then Mandy opened the door with a purple witch hat on her head. She was joined by a duplicate with a green hat.


“Hello, new neighbors,” they paused to cackle, “We’re Mandy and Candy and we want to cast a spell on you, so…”


They each produced a small plastic cauldron overflowing with goodies. Mandy dropped one in Opera’s bag with another conspiratorial wink and Candy dropped the other in Maggie’s bag.


“You’re the cutest little devil I’ve ever seen.” She giggled.


“And we’re witches, so that’s saying something.” Mandy added as she reached for something on a small table near the door.


Her hand returned to view with a tray of sugar cookies, decorated to look like cats and bats and eclectic pumpkins. “We’ve been meaning to introduce ourselves to our new neighbors. If I am not mistaken, your apartment is directly over ours.”


Father looked up and down the hallway for a moment, “I think you’re right. I hope we haven’t been too loud.”


“Not at all. They have wonderful sound dampeners in this place,” though her eyes crinkled a little bit with the lie, “We actually wondered if you had moved in yet.”


“Oh yeah. All moved in. We just haven’t got a chance to introduce ourselves to anyone. Busy, you know?” He gestured toward Maggie and I.


“Yes. You have to keep an eye on those little ones,” another wink flew my way.


This time father glanced between us curiously, “Have you two met?”


“A few minutes ago in the hallway,” she said, “While you were trapped in the party. We love the Haymonds until we want to come home and sleep.”


“I got that feeling myself.”


They wrapped up with more thank yous and holiday wishes and slowly closed the door. I peered into my bag. Maggie peered into hers and then into mine. Her eyes locked on my face as if trying to read my mind. 


“My bag is getting heavy,” I took a sideways glance at Maggie who had gently let hers drop to the ground after inspecting its contents.


“There are a couple more floors,” father offered though a look of relief crossed his face, “But we can go home and surprise mommy.”


“With cookies,” Maggie declared joyously, lifting the straps of her bag up as high as she could without actually lifting the bag off the ground.


Father laughed, “Yes, with cookies. Let me take that for you.” He glanced at me but I hefted my own bag.


“I’m a big girl,” I declared.


“Well, daddy is tired, so maybe we should take the elevator,” now he winked at me, but who was I to argue with adult wisdom.


Soon we were home with our abundance of treats. On par with tradition, we dumped both bags on the table and started sorting through them. My mother seemed excited that the cauldron contained mostly small toys and a couple Reese’s cups.


“Like they were made just for our girls,” she whispered to father as we started playing with the toys.


“It’s a snake,” Maggie shoved a fidget toy made of links that twisted this way and that into my face. 


We both giggled. Despite being distracted by our toys, we each kept one eye on mother as they sorted through the candy. Anything with coconut went in dad’s pile, along with anything we currently deemed weird. To this day, I still refuse to try a zero bar. Why is it white? Is zero the rating it got from the first people who tasted it? I’m not brave enough to figure it out, but father likes them.


Then the first of the expensive candy bars got unearthed. Mother stared at the gilded wrapper like it contained actual gold.


“Really? Someone gave out my favorites?”


Father shrugged, “Must have.”


They kept sorting. All told, we found nine candy bars just for her. She sat back in her chair, tears streaming down her face.


“Maybe you aren’t just an optimist, James. This place might not be so bad.”


As she opened up one of the candy bars and broke off sections for each of us, father regaled her with stories of our new friends. She seemed more fascinated with the Haymonds than Candy and Mandy. Maybe she had met duplicate people before. They are the first twins I ever remember meeting, so they seemed so much more interesting than hard partying vampires.


Chapter 17: Nature