Pied Piper

You were all things

Shiny and new.

Sweet and warm and tender.

You loved me.

And I loved you.

We were us in the most

Complete and beautiful way.

But you were skilled

In sleight of hand.

Showing me one thing

While doing another.

Smoke and mirrors

And hidden compartments.

I took it all in

Like a child full of wonder.

You enjoyed the show most.

You were like the piper

Playing a fine tune

And you came into my world

With enchanting sounds.

The melodies we shared,

I loved and cherished.

These were our songs,

About our love.

That are now echoes on the wind.

You vanished.

Disappeared like a fine mist.

No rhyme, no reason.

I’m left holding the bag

In which we placed

our most treasured moments

And dreams for the future.

Your last words to me were,

“Abracadabra!”

You left me wondering,

How on earth did you do that trick?

Love and Letting Go

I’m trying to pick up where I left off with the A to Z Challenge, but a few of my short stories are taking on a life of their own, which is good and bad. I’m trying to post daily not weekly! :D  So, below you will find my very touching “L day” submission. Grab some Kleenex. Happy reading! <3

 

Love Letter

Love Letter

 

April 15, 2014

Dear John,

It’s been a while since we’ve been able to spend any quality time together, our lives being so busy and all. You have classes to teach and children to manage on your own, while taking care of your parents. I have my children and their after school activities, my ailing parents and my own health challenges to worry about.  We both put so much time into our respective households that there isn’t much room left for us. You would think that as single parents we’d find a way to balance each other out, support each other.  Other couples do it all the time, but they aren’t us. Our circumstances are unique and extremely challenging.

I’m glad you responded to my email today and filled me in on what’s going on with you. I wish we could have had the discussion face to face or by phone. I needed to hear your voice, but I guess our conflicting schedules make things difficult to coordinate.

There never is a really good time or a good way to end a relationship, especially when two people genuinely love each other. I know you love me, and I love you, but I have to agree with you, we have too much on our plates to have a functional, healthy relationship. There aren’t enough hours in the day to meet the needs of our respective families and have something left to offer each other.

It breaks my heart that we had to end things. I’m trying not to cry. I’m trying to be ok with it, but it still hurts so much.  Sometimes, the most loving thing you can do for a person is let them go. I consider this breakup a loving gesture.

I hope the road forward for you smooths out and the drama dies down. You deserve peace and happiness.

I will always love you. Always,

Jennifer

Image credit: Photo5_Red_Ribbon by Julie Edgley

F is for Failure

failure

Failure is not what I really planned to write about on my “F” day for the A to Z blog challenge.  I should be posting my “E” day post, but I’m still working on it. It’s bigger than I intended and may not be posted until “Z” Day.  Life has gotten in the way of my writing time. It’s difficult to settle the mind and create when stressed.  But I am pressing forward! So this week, look forward to double posts and possibly triple posts while I catch up on the challenge!  I’m not giving up on this challenge!!

Contest!!!

nikewrites:

Contest!!!!!! Woo hoo!!! Tiffany Christina Lewis is celebrating the release of her novella “Inside Out” with contest! See details below.

Originally posted on Tiffany's Scribbled Thoughts:

CONTEST TIME!

Michael Taylor and his fellow detectives at the PD have a lot of facts and information they have to gather in each case. On top of that, Oakland California is abundant with statistics that make it a haven for crime buffs.

Tiffany wants to reward 5 of you crime lovers with a FREE copy of her new novella Inside Out, but you’re gonna have to channel your inner Michael Taylor to get it!

1st place will receive an autographed copy of Inside Out and a 20$ Amazon Gift Card!

2nd place will receive an autographed copy of Inside out.

3rd – 5th place will receive Kindle or Nook copies of Inside Out.

Submit your answers to the following questions below.  Make sure you put a NUMBER next to each of your answers so we will know which question you are addressing. Your entry will not count if the…

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Dwelling Place

Emily Dickinson by Gareth Southwell

Emily Dickinson by Gareth Southwell

 

I dwell in possibility

That has no limit.

No roof.

No floors.

Only doors and windows.

You can’t box me in

You can’t uproot me.

You can’t reign me in,

Or hasten my pace.

You can’t dim my shine,

Or rain on my parade.

Possibility is my home.

Don’t underestimate me.

You don’t know what I’m made of.

I am an original,

Fearfully and wonderfully made.

Nothing is impossible for me.

Nothing.

See more of Gareth Southwell’s artwork here or on Deviant Art.

Crush

Deep in research

I watched out of the corner of my eye as he walked into study hall and casually approached the teacher. He was late. He had an easy-going manner, a suaveness that made me nervous when I was around him. Zander Bloodworth was roughly six feet tall, muscular, but not bulky. He had shoulder length dread locs, and skin the color of dark chocolate.  His eyes were bright, as was his smile. He must floss religiously. His teeth were white and even. Zander leaned against Mrs. Drake’s desk and said something softly that elicited a school-girl giggle from her. He was a skilled flirt. He offered her a charming smile and a wink and turned towards the class to find a seat.

Every female student looked up, eagerly willing him to make eye contact with her. Every male in the classroom watched the Master and took notes. They wanted to be like him when they grew up. Who would be today’s arm piece? I continued to do my research, pretending not to notice him. I wasn’t concerned about him looking my way.  No one looked my way. I was ‘the queen nerd.’ I was ok to talk to, seek out for tutoring, and to be pitied for being smart instead physically appealing. I wasn’t arm-candy material. I was Plain Jane in comparison to Lainey Clifton, the school diva.  I didn’t have to worry about him sitting with me.  I finished my trigonometry homework and leaned down to place my books in my bag. I pulled out my copy of Pride and Prejudice and prepared to ride out the rest of the period engrossed in the story. When I sat up, Zander was sitting beside me, his coco brown eyes sparkling. The boys roared with laughter and began giving each other high-fives, while the girls sucked their teeth and rolled their eyes in my direction.  Mrs. Drake hollered, “Detention anyone?” She held up a pack of detention slips and the class settled down a bit. My face was hot and I could feel beads of sweat forming on my scalp and top lip.

“Hey,” he said, softly. His voice was deep.

“Hi,” I said. It sounded more like a question than a greeting. He laughed.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. There weren’t any other good seats in the class.”  I looked over to the table where most of the guys in the class sat, watching our every move.  There were three open seats at that table, and four other seats among the girls that were still throwing me dirty looks and quietly plotting my death. I looked back at him.

“I see,” I said and looked at him pointedly. He ignored my expression.

“Your name is Sharalyn, right?

“And your name is Zander.” He cleared his throat. Was I making him nervous? Interesting. I decided to take advantage of his vulnerable moment. “Why didn’t you sit with your friends or one of the thirsty girls?” He looked surprised by my question and stuttered his response.

“Well, I ,ummm. Wow! You’re direct! I wasn’t expecting that!”

“What were you expecting?”

“Well, you’re so to yourself, I thought you were shy. I thought you’d be easy to talk to.” He had expectations? That meant he had plans to approach me. I got angry. I don’t care how cute he was, or how many dreams I may have had of one day marrying him and having his children, I was NOT going to be his plaything! I turned back to my book and opened it. I bit my lip to keep from snapping at him.

“Oh, you needed homework help? Tutoring?”

“No,” he laughed nervously, “But if that’s what I need to do to get to know you better,” he trailed off. I put my book down and looked at him, confused.

“What are you talking about?”

Across the room, the boys began to pound on their desks and softly chanted, “Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it!”  Mrs. Drake held up the detention slips and cleared her throat to get their attention. The girls were creating a list of ways to torment me.

“Well, I’ve been watching you for a while and I think you’re cool and I wanted to know if we could, umm, you know. Could we hang out and stuff.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. My crush was asking me out. Did he mean it? His body language said he was really nervous about my response. I’d been watching him, too, and knew this is not how he usually acted around girls. He was pretty confident and direct in his approach. He was mister “charm their socks off.” He couldn’t be interested in me.

“How long?”

“How long, what,” he asked.

“How long have you been watching me…stalker.”

“Since last year,” he smiled.

“I don’t know. You have a reputation for playing with hearts. I don’t want to end up being another notch on your belt.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear.  Tell you what, let’s meet after school, my treat. We can go Island Buffet and just talk. You can ask me anything and I will give you the honest truth.”

“Ok, but I’m paying my own way.”

“I see you are going to be hard-headed. You are supposed to let the man pay,” he said.  The bell rang and we stood to go to our next class.

“You aren’t my man. You are in the ‘Friend Zone’ until I decide whether or not you are worthy of my time. I pay my own way,” I said it with a smile.  He smiled back and shook his head.

“Ok, ‘friend,’” he said, “we’ll do it your way. See you after school.”  He left with his friends yapping at his ankles like a pack of terriers, and begging for the details of our conversation. The girls ran out the room to put their dastardly plots into action and stir up the rumor mill.

I left the classroom with a silly smirk on my face. Who knew? My crush was crushing on me, too.

Beauty is Fleeting

Young Reflections

Young Reflections

“I used to be beautiful,” she said as she looked into the mirror. “Now, I’m old and my beauty is gone.” I studied her reflection as she fixed her hair and put on her earrings. Her skin was dark, and baby soft, without a spot or scar. There were lines across her forehead, around her mouth and at the corners of her eyes.  The skin around her neck was loose, but not lined. I didn’t see any missing beauty. I’d seen pictures of mama when she was twenty. She was just as beautiful today as she was fifty years ago, when the pictures were taken.

“You’re still beautiful, mama.”

“With all these lines in my face? No. Beauty is fleeting. Says so in the bible. Mine faded long ago.”

“But, there’s more to you than your face. You could’ve worn a paper bag over your head from the day you were born and you would still be beautiful.”

She turned, smiled at me planted a kiss on my forehead.

“You know how to make your grandmother feel good. Come, let’s go down to dinner.”

She headed down the stairs for dinner.  I turned and looked at my reflection in the mirror.  I saw traces of her features on my face. Beauty was generations deep in our family. I wondered if I would feel the same way about my reflection when I am my grandmother’s age. Only time will tell.