The Waves and George Clooney’s Twin

VWThe waves

I spoke to my sister for a few minutes this morning. She brought me a light bulb that she’d bought me months ago and wine corks that I’m going to do some kind of crafty thing with. We talked about being lonely vs. being alone, and I told her that I’ve finally learned the difference. I’m an extrovert but I’m happy with the quiet and the solitude. I’m happy with ruffling the scruff and scratching the ears of my dog, than spending time with people that talk to much. I’ve let go of toxic people and I’ve let go of the toxicity within myself.

2014 has royally sucked but as it draws to a close, I’m thankful for what I experienced during it. I mean, at least I’m alive to tell the tale. But now it’s time to write the final words and close this chapter.

My friend Bette said in 2015 we deserve to find George Clooney’s twin and have him whisk us away to the Caribbean. He could feed us grapes while we tanned our pale bodies on the deck of his yacht. I told her I wouldn’t care if I had to draw his bathwater and wash his dishes. Hell, I’d swab the poop deck if necessary!

So this morning I will enjoy the coffee cup, the knife, the spoon, things in themselves, and myself in myself.

Have a happy Sunday my lovelies.

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A Reunion of Twin Flames

 

‘Maybe I was born with you inside me. Maybe I have always carried you with me. Maybe you are all the wild in me.’ ~ Tyler Knott Gregson 

The inn was packed with men and women dressed in business attire, their heads bent forward while their fingers glided across the glass surface of their cell phones. Bosses and employees continued conversations that had begun in morning meetings, the subjects touching on nothing and everything. Wait staff rushed by with trays full of hot food and cold beverages. The air was filled with the scent of homemade chicken soup and the yeast of warm bread pulled fresh from the oven. Coffee cups clattered as they were refilled and ice cubes clinked in glasses topped off with fresh water. Silverware scratched across empty plates while mundane conversations continued to buzz.

Lauren placed her hands palms side down on the antique oak table. She scrutinized her long fingers and cursed herself for getting a manicure before meeting with her long lost love.  She’d never been what you’d call a high maintenance woman. All she needed to do was apply a little mascara to her sparse eyelashes and coat her berry colored lips with store brand chap stick.

Frank tenderly stroked the stones in the ring on the third finger of her right hand. It tickled as the sensation traveled from her arm and down her spine. With his touch, Lauren felt as though someone had walked across her grave, found out all of her secrets and read all her old love letters. She lifted her hand from the table and wrapped it protectively around his. His hand was course from hard work, but when she touched it she swore it turned to velvet.

His green eyes bore into her as he said, “look at me.”

Lauren did as he requested, and in that moment she couldn’t stop staring at him. He was still beautiful. The man was dark haired, skinny and tall, with a mouth that was perfect for kissing. He looked into her blue eyes and discovered the irises were flecked with gold. Why hadn’t he noticed that when they were young? She smiled, and he swore he saw the sun rise in her eyes. Frank tucked a hand under her chin, leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss.

“My God woman but you are gorgeous.”

“I am not,” Lauren replied. “I am only slightly pretty.”

Frank slid his hands underneath the dress she wore specifically for him and with a low growl replied, ‘If I say you’re gorgeous, you are, because I never lie.”

The restaurant continued to buzz with conversation while the wait staff flurried around them, but the activity was lost on them. Lauren fell into his arms, her desire at its genesis. Frank gave her a gentle kiss on the pulse point of her throat and she moaned right there in the middle of the restaurant. She wondered if anyone had heard her, and then realized she didn’t really care if they did. If Frank was anything like he was when they were young, he was finding pleasure in enticing her with people around them.

Lauren whispered into his ear, “what do you see in me?”

“Your worth”, he replied as he turned and slipped his tongue into her mouth.

She had forgotten how good his kisses were, and it was all she could do not to bite his lips. Frank finally pulled away so that he could continue their conversation and to not attract too much attention from the other restaurant patrons.

‘You my darling, are like me, don’t you see that, after all of the conversations we’ve had?’

Lauren replied, ‘I guess you’re right.’

Their kisses continued, as Frank’s hands roamed underneath her dress. He caressed her plump legs and boldly brushed his fingers across the soft cotton of her panties. Lauren’s body stiffened and it was all she could do to keep from crying out.

Frank we have all the time in the world for this, so let’s wait.

Moving his hands to rest on her knees he kissed her forehead and nodded his agreement. She put her hand in his, and began to talk about their life together. He whispered how much he loved her while Lauren weaved her stories. Frank was enamored with her spirit and wondered what had taken him so long to find her again. He realized that all of his crooked roads had let straight back to her. Sitting here in an inn during a busy lunch hour, he knew that his home was with her. The inn began to empty of the lunch crowd. Bussing staff cleaned and reset tables for the dinner hour.

Frank and Lauren paid the bill for their untouched lunch and drinks. Hand in hand they made their way outside and back to their separate vehicles.

“I promise to see you soon,” Frank told her.

“Don’t make me any promises, just say we’ll meet again.”

“I want you in my life every day.”

“It’ll happen, when you’re ready”, Lauren told him.

“I love you darling.”

With a quick kiss she said, “I know, and that’s what gets me out of bed every day.”

With that Lauren got into her car and drove away. At the stoplight she turned, smiled vibrantly and waved goodbye.

Frank would like to say that their story ended happily. That he and Lauren finally reunited for good and lived together, but that was the last time he saw her. Now every time he drove past the inn, he thought of her and what he should have done. That day he should have brought her flowers. He should have run away with her. He should have made her his wife. But he didn’t do any of those things. He wasn’t sure if it was fear of the future or his past that kept him from her. All he knew was that he would miss her every day until he breathed his last breath.

This Morning

The autumn wind is a pirate. Blustering in from sea with a rollicking song he sweeps along swaggering boisterously. His face is weather beaten, he wears a hooded sash with a silver hat about his head… The autumn wind is a Raider, pillaging just for fun.

~Steve Sabol~

Awoke this morning to sloppy puppy kisses on my forehead and a brisk shuffle walk outside. Old coffee was warmed in the microwave while I fed the dog and cat. With cream added to dark roast I sat down and watched the sun rise from my sliding glass door. I accidentally spilled coffee on my chest when Eddie dropped a tennis ball in my lap. Setting the coffee down I did as he silently requested and played fetch. After a few balls were caught in mid air he walked to the door and gave me a pleading look to go back outside. With my coat on, I painfully shuffled out the door and headed down the stairs. I opened the door and walked out into the chilly air to walk my little terror knowing that he was saving me and helping me heal.

**I know it’s been awhile since I’ve posted on my blog. It’s been difficult to be inspired, or when I do write I think the words are trite and utter bullshit. I have to write to get better at it, and I assure you I’ll try. Have a great day and stay warm.**

The Coffee Date

It was a nippy 35 degrees when I finally woke up at the not so early hour of 9:15 am. I know I’m a lazy one, but in my defense I did wake up at 3:00 am to add another blanket to my bed. Believe me, it was all I could do to crawl out from under the semi warmth of my zebra print comforter to fish around in my closet for another blanket and then scurry back into bed. The effort was well worth it though. Of course then the night sweats started, but that’s another story all together. Such are the joys of being 46 and in pre-menopause. Good Lord, but do I digress!

As I stated in my first sentence I finally woke up at 9:15 am. Cinders, my cranky yellow eyed black cat sang me the song of her hunger as I hopped on one foot into my wheelchair. Clad in a purple tank shirt and yellow boy shorts I expertly turned my chair around and headed out of my bedroom to turn up the thermostat. With Cinders following close behind I headed to my sliding glass door and opened the blinds. The sunlight poured over and warmed me while I waited for the heat to kick on. Cinders got hit with it too and rolled over on her belly, her hungry talk silenced for a moment or two by sweet sunshine.

Seated in my wheelchair, I watched as a black Ford Focus pulled up and stopped behind the cars in the parking lot. A woman carrying a cup of Joe from Starbucks stepped from the car and closed the door. As she began to walk to her apartment door entrance, the gentleman she was with stepped from his door and asked her to stop. He walked to her as she turned around, and he gave her a warm hug. His face was lit with a smile so genuine it made my heart skip a little faster. I could hear her laughter as they hugged each other. He leaned his head in and he kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him tighter before they kissed again.

Their parting conversation wasn’t clear but you could tell it was jovial and warm, even as they stood outside in the cold morning. As he drove away, and she entered her apartment building, I knew that’s what I wanted someday, a coffee date, a kiss from a nice man, and a smile from him to light up my otherwise ordinary Sunday. I’m hopeful that in time it will happen.

 

You Are My Sunshine, My Only Sunshine

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy, when skies are gray

Mommy used to sing this song to me when I was a child. There were so many nights when I couldn’t sleep,because I was scared of the dark, and I was scared of the quiet. I was scared of the next day at school, and the struggles I would face there. Mom did her best to ease my fears with singing before we’d go to sleep. Of course I didn’t go to sleep. I sweated about sharks, and things that go bump in the night. I sweated over bullies and the fact that I couldn’t do math. Mom had no idea how scared I was because I was never able to tell her. So instead we sang to each other.

I hated that everything scared me and would continue to until I was in my late 20’s. I hated that I was afraid of the dark and used a nightlight until I was 30. I hate that now that I live alone, I’m afraid of the dark again, even though I live in an apartment building that is relatively safe. I hate being afraid and I hate who I am. But then I think about Mom and the way we sang to each other when I was a child. I remember the comfort I felt for those few moments in time, and how safe I was.

When I was young Mommy and I sang together, and even when we do now I continue to feel  safe. She did the best she could to help me and continues to do so to this day. She doesn’t understand me but that’s okay, I know now she does the best she can for me.

You make me happy when skies are gray

You’ll never know dear how much I love you

Please don’t take my sunshine away….

 

Shards of Glass

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 Copyright-Douglas McIlroy

After her latest hospitalization, Tricia isolated herself on an island where no one knew her.

While the ocean roared and licked her feet, she searched for colored shards of glass made smooth by tumbling waves. In her workshop she placed them in jars filled with water then sold them to tourists. Tricia was confounded by what rum soaked and perfect bodied folks would purchase while they laid in the sun.

Here, she remained sober and ‘off the grid’, but it didn’t stop her from thinking about her past life. She hoped they were okay without her. Actually, she hoped they were better than okay.

104 words/General Fiction (hell, I don’t know)

 

Thanks Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting this exercise in discipline. It is a joy to work with you and have you comment on my work. Along with all of my other friends from Friday Fictioneers.

Readers, please check out the other stories found on Rochelle’s page. Thanks for stopping by.

He Just Thought She Was Crazy

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‘She didn’t belong anywhere and she never really belonged to anyone. And everyone else belonged somewhere and to someone. People thought she was too wonderful. But she only wanted to belong to someone. People always thought she was too wonderful to belong to them or that something too wonderful would hurt too much to lose. And that’s why she liked him–because he just thought she was crazy.’

~ C. JoyBell C.

 

You Kissed Me Once

unidentifiable-on-a-stickcopyright-Ken Bonham

You kissed me once, while seated on a bench in Central Park, our gloved hands held steaming cups of coffee. My booted foot toed a long dead seed pod, and its remnants scattered on the sidewalk.

Our silence spoke of the depth of our love. How it had settled into the corners of our hearts made dusty by time and the broken shards left by other lovers.

I took a sip of steaming coffee, then kissed your mouth. We smiled at each other, as I drank in the beauty of your face.

You whispered, ‘thank you’, and I blushed in my reply.

 Genre: Romance/101 Words

It’s been so long since I’ve participated in Friday Fictioneers, but this photo spoke to me. Please give me constructive criticism. I assure you I’m tough, and I can take it.

Thanks Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting this exercise in discipline. It is a joy to work with you and have you comment on my work.

Readers please check out the other stories found on Rochelle’s page. Thanks for stopping by.

Blessings from my Sister

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Sometimes I feel like there’s a hole inside of me, an emptiness that at times seems to burn. I think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could probably hear the ocean. The moon tonight, there’s a circle around it. Sign of trouble not far behind. I have this dream of being whole. Of not going to sleep each night, wanting. But still sometimes, when the wind is warm or the crickets sing… I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for. I just want someone to love me. I want to be seen. I don’t know. Maybe I had my happiness. I don’t want to believe it but, there is no man, Gilly. Only that moon. –Practical Magic

Sis and I were never close, but it wasn’t from my lack of trying. We were just too different, she and I. I was the Black Sheep, and she was the perfect one. Sure, I was smart, but she had the drive to get good grades. I was in school for the social aspect of it. Sis ran with the right crowd, but I ran with the wild crowd. I drank, smoked cigarettes and weed. Hell, she was even a cheerleader.

Our weddings were within three months of each other. They were over 25 years ago, so I don’t remember much. However, I do recall spilled champagne on my bridesmaids dress, dancing with my future husband and dirty dancing to the song, “Time of my Life”. I remember that Sis looked beautiful, like she always did. Where I was curvy, and what I perceived as ugly,  she was neither of those things. To me she was perfect; athletic, smart, popular, beautiful, driven, and the list goes on and on.

She and I raised our kids differently. I was the free spirited mom that gave my children room, but reigned them in when necessary. She was the stricter mom, that enforced rules and gave lectures. Our children turned out to be pretty damn great adults, so who’s to say which of our parenting skills was better.

Throughout the years, she divorced and remarried. She had a couple more kids while her older two were teenagers. Our oldest ones were all born within a few years of each other and it was fun to watch them all grow and change, and achieve. Sis and I were blood, but we never crossed over to being friends. Then I decided after 24 years of marriage to divorce Roger Darling, and she became my strongest supporter.

I finally let go of what I perceived were our differences, and let her in. Sis has been there for me when I’ve been at my lowest. She has gotten my groceries and run my errands while I was laid up from a major car accident last March. She has on more than one occasion yelled at me and told me to get my head on straight now that I’m walking again. We’ve learned we can lean on each other, no matter how different we are.

She’s my sister and now my friend. I don’t know if we’d ever be able to live together, but I’m proud to say she’s one of my loudest cheerleaders. Who knew those skills of hers would come in handy all these years later?

Can love really travel back in time and heal a broken heart? Was it our joined hands that finally lifted Maria’s curse? I’d like to think so. But there are some things I know for certain: always throw spilt salt over your left shoulder, keep rosemary by your garden gate, plant lavender for luck, and fall in love whenever you can.-Practical Magic


My Body Bathed in Moonlight

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It wasn’t long after I’d graduated from high school and broken things off with my first fiancé that I began to run a little wild. I met up with G. at a party but I’d known him since he was a freshman in high school. He was a senior and a jock so we really didn’t run in the same circles.  That’s not entirely true, I ran in any circle I wanted to, seeing as I was a chameleon and all.

G. brought me a drink, a cheap brand of beer most likely. We sat and chatted while other party goers took turns doing lines of cocaine off a huge mirror that had been placed on a dining room table. I’m not sure if G. was into coke or not, but that drug scared the hell out of me. Our poison of the evening was alcohol, though we didn’t begrudge anyone else for choosing to snort lines off a mirror for five bucks a pop.

One beer turned into three and our tongues loosened. The conversation turned dirty and I saw a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. I gladly returned a devilish look and answered yes to his request to take me to bed. Walking hand in hand we quietly retreated to a friend’s apartment just a few doors away. We wasted no more time with pleasantries and innuendo. He produced a condom and I grinned from ear to ear. I’m pretty sure I rolled that condom onto his cock with my mouth.

It was a long time ago so I don’t remember all of the details, but I do remember having a lot of fun. I don’t ever remember laughing so much and feeling such comfort while completely naked. His body was beautiful, athletic and lithe. I lay underneath him enjoying the weight of his body on mine. The outstanding feeling of his hardness moving in and out of me. I arched my hips up to meet his thrusts when he stopped suddenly, and rolled off of me. There I was splayed before him, completely naked and vulnerable. My breasts and midriff were lit faintly by the moonlight streaming in a nearby window.

‘Fuck, you’re body is beautiful’, he said.

I was tongue-tied by his comment. No man had ever looked at my naked body with such reverence before. All I could manage was a smile that I hoped he could see in the moonlight of his friend’s bedroom. I pushed him onto his back and straddled his waist as I guided his cock back into me. Sweet Jesus, how he filled me completely.

Our bodies spent, we laid in bed and cracked jokes. I think we might have even shared another beer. As we dressed, we heard his friend S. come home. The poor boy was so drunk, I think he banged his arms and torso on every wall as he stumbled to his bathroom. S. threw up into his garbage can as G. and I walked out of the bedroom.

‘Hey Renee, how the fuck are you?’,  he asked.

‘Better than you’, I giggled.

G. and I helped S. into bed, he whined incoherently about something and passed out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. G. and I headed back to the party a few doors down. We didn’t exchange phone numbers and we never saw each other again. I can’t say I wasn’t a little disappointed, but sometimes sex is just that, sex. It was fulfilling and beautifully dirty.

I did see G. a few years later, at a little family restaurant in Saline. I walked in with my future husband and sat down in a booth. I looked up and there was G. grinning a devilish grin. The blood rushed to my cheeks and sex as I smiled back at him. I might have even said hello. I remember thinking what a delicious secret G. and I had.

I wonder, if I saw him now, would my body react the way it did 28 years ago? I’d like to think it would. I also wonder where he is now. I hope he’s happy. And I also hope he tells the woman he’s with now how beautiful she is.