The Mermaid Elixir

 

   

       Charlie eyed all nurses suspiciously.  Everyone thought he talked crazy.   That is why his kids forced him into assisted living, to have him watched.   He’d escape to the beach nearby.  Like before, she would rejuvenate him: another modern medical miracle.  Goodbye cancer!

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It's a Hit!

Picture by saavem on rgbstock.com

   

      The vacant lot on Cherry Street became the place to be when school let out for summer.   All the guys had something to prove.       When it was my turn at bat, nobody got excited.  It was as if everyone knew I would be struck out and wasn’t worth their attention. Determind, I took my swing, expecting to swing air once again.  Smack!  Elation filled my heart as the Louisville Slugger struck the ball sending it flying.  Thrilled, I ran until the heart sickening sound of shattering glass stopped me cold.  Grandpa always said one swallow does not make a summer.

  


     A fictional story written for the  Friday Light and Shade Challenge, we were asked to write a piece of fiction in 100 words or less using the quote “one swallow does not make a summer”by Aristotle (384 BC - 322 BC)  and the picture above.  I discovered that according to Google the quote is a proverb which means that a single fortunate event does not mean that what follows will also be good.

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Angel Yard

       I was cruising in my Camaro, radio blaring at top volume and enjoying life when the SUV crossed over into my lane.  In a split second I knew there was absolutely nowhere to go and no time to get there.   It happened so fast, an earth shattering crash…then a state of nothingness.  The music died with my pride and joy, now a twisted bit of metal surrounded by a million shards of glass, unrecognizable.  The SUV was gone having ricocheted against the cliff, broke through the guard rail, and plummeted over the side of the mountain. 

Photo by Lyssa Medana

        Up ahead I saw a sign posted on a brick wall I hadn’t noticed before.  Confused, I glanced around and back, hurried toward it, certain I could use a phone there to call for help.    An old guy was standing against the wall, waiting. 

“Sir, I was involved in the accident.  Do you have a phone I could use to call for help?”  He stood alone under a sign that read “Angel Yard”.

“Jon, you are past help.  Why bother to ask for help now?” he inquired peering deeply into my eyes.

Taken aback, I tried a different tack.  “I don’t believe we have met.  How do you know my name?”

     “I know everybody.”

  

     “Okay….”  I looked back at the wreckage and the realization hit me like a ton of bricks.  “Am I dead?”  I asked with a tinge of panic.

        He smiled at me.  “Depends how you look at it.  If you believe you belong here with your whole heart, chances are you do.  Otherwise, if you don’t believe then you belong in the other place and by all that is good and holy you will wish you were dead long before they are through with you.  Either way, you pay your money and you takes your choice.”

    “Money… now I am confused!”  I looked back at the wreckage.  I panicked again and things got real.  Other motorists had stopped to gawk.  The police had arrived, and an ambulance’s siren could be heard in the distance.  Transfixed, I watched an officer leaning into what was left of my Camaro.  He pronounced me dead.  Dead!  The word slammed around in my brain as I struggled to understand.  

       “The money you pay is the forgiveness you request for your sins, the belief you have that you will be forgiven and will be granted everlasting life regardless of all that has come before.  You have to feel remorse so your soul can be sanitized before you proceed.  Otherwise, the money you pay buys you a one way ticket to hell for eternity.  Normally the decision is made before folks get to this point, but often there are exceptions, people who have doubts.   Question is, do you believe or do you doubt?  It’s your choice. ”

      My mind quickly replayed my life, good and bad.    We exchanged smiles, because instantly he knew I did believe.  He nodded and I proceeded down Angel Road to my destiny.

Written for the Light and Shade Writing Challenge Monday Writing Prompt.

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Butterfly Zentangle

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Comfort Haiku

Embracing kindness

Sincere compassion offered

Console grief stricken

Inspired by the prompt at

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It's Time!

 

      Panicked, she looked in my direction and gave me a slight nod.  Filled instantly with excitement and understanding, I quickly gathered my things and we left as the rest of the group continued to work, unfazed by our quick and quiet departure.  

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Daddy Knows Best

          He taught me how to read other people’s eyes.  It has been so useful throughout my life, especially once I perfected the gift.  I was able to discern who was lying and who exactly was being sincere.  Many times I saw things I didn’t want to see like the brutal honesty I would have happily chosen to ignore if only to enjoy mind boggling, curl your toes sex, just a bit longer.  He always knew what was best for me.  Looking through the windows of the soul straight to someone’s heart isn’t always a gift.  Oftentimes over the years it has proven to be a curse.  For example, it is like being able to read Jon so very well just by glimpsing his eyes and knowing he was only there for sex, no more, no less.  My feelings didn’t matter to him, only the earth shattering quickies.  He quickly forgot me and our daughter Megan as soon as Theresa crossed his path.  Obviously she was the real deal, and I simply wasn’t.  Not for him anyways.

             When my heart laid in shatters around me, your quiet strength and unconditional love took me in.   I fell into your arms as I always did and you, being you, comforted me and helped me to forget how much Jon mattered.  You always believed in me.  With no questions asked, you allowed me to move back home and bring Megan.  You became the father figure she desperately yearned for and reminded me what a wonderful Dad you had always been.  A lone tear drifted down my face as I quietly held your hand willing you to open your eyes so I could understand, make peace with my heart, and tell you to fight to stay.  Except for the solitary lamp lit by your bed, the room was dark.  Still I could see the Escher lithograph that had hung on your bedroom wall ever since I could remember.  I had always been fascinated by the building and the steps leading to it from somewhere far off in the imagination sight unseen.  I always imagined that perhaps those steps led to the heaven where Mama had resided since I was nine.

       Your breath caught, pulling my eyes to your face as your eyes fluttered opened.    Your normally brilliant blue eyes seemed abnormally big as you took me in.   You struggled to speak…but you had taught me well.  I saw the finality of goodbye in your eyes and the sadness that etched your features.

      “Always remember what I taught you Emma.  You will always find whatever you need to know within people’s eyes.  I know you can see the end in mine.  Don’t be sad for me.  Be strong.  Your mother is waiting and we will finally be together again.  Live your live passionately, my dear Emma.  Be happy.  Know that I love you, and we will be together again.”  The ghost of a smile crossed his features.  He gasped another shallow breath, and then all was still.  I gazed into the vacant vessel that had once housed one of the most precious souls that ever touched my life and knew.  He was gone, and I was now alone with the rest of my life before me. Wiping the flood of tears that fell unchecked, I thanked God for blessing me with this soul who had impacted my life so much and prayed for the strength to continue living without his guidance. 

              I knew what I needed to do now.  No one must ever know!  They could never suspect…ever.  I hurried down the hall to the bathroom where I quickly shaved my head, changed my clothes, and perfected my disguise.   School let out in approximately 15 minutes.  I had already laid the groundwork letting the school know that Megan’s long lost father would be picking her up from school this afternoon.  With my hair shaved, I could easily pass for a man.  I hurried out the back, dropping a match as I went.  The gasoline quickly did its job, engulfing the house into an inferno of flames.  I slipped out the back gate and hurried up the sidewalk two blocks where a car awaited.  I hurried into the back seat, nodded to the driver, and the black BMW sped off to pick up Megan.     I vowed to look forward  to our new life in France. It is long past time to make dreams into reality. Daddy always did know best.

       This story was written for the Speak Easy writing prompt where we were to start our story with "He taught me how to read other people's eyes." and to make a reference to the picture that I have shared with the post.  The story was to be 750 words or fewer.  My story is 743 words.  The story was adjusted from the original  June 19, 2014 in the effort to clear up any confusion about the fate of Megan that several readers had.  I hope you enjoy my story.


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The Proposal

Photo by Vidya Sury

       If she loves me, she will meet me.  If she doesn’t…well then, my heart will be broken but I will know.    I waited beside the log pacing, a bundle of nerves, rehearsing what I would say, with a diamond ring burning a hole in my pocket.  I loved her.  I wanted her to be my forever.  A twig broke and I whirled around, my heart swelling with love.  She was here, really here!  We smiled at each other as I took her hand into my own.  I presented the ring, knelt on one knee, and proposed.   Tears streaming, she accepted.

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Feeling Good

       The race had been tight since the primaries.  We had been all over the country.  I had made speeches, shook more hands than I could even count, and kissed so many babies their faces all blurred into one.  It was a dream I had pursued since I was a kid running in school elections.  All I ever wanted was to hold public office and make a difference in the world.  I wanted to help people.  I wanted to be remembered.  Then I had met Vivian.

         

       Vivian captivated me like no other woman could.  The only problem was that Vivian was from the wrong side of the tracks and not “First Lady” material.  Still, I lusted after her and chased her like a dog in heat.  I never figured the press would find out, but I realized the hard way that the press always finds out everything eventually.  No matter what, they always find out.  I thought I was immune.   I had gone to all the right schools, crawled my way to the top of the political ladder all the way to this run to the white house.    I had my good name, plenty of money, and the prerequisite perfect political wife, two kids, and family dog.  For all intents and purposes, I was a shoe in.

      Still my dark side was always there waiting to be discovered.  Vivian introduced me to cocaine and I was hooked.  I loved the rush it gave and the feeling of power I had been chasing my whole life.  It emboldened me to try new things…things I should have never thought of.  Vivian was a first rate call girl and honestly with her I experienced the best sex I ever had in my life.  That woman knew how to blow my mind.  There were times that I thought maybe it was the drugs that made Vivian so exciting, and then I realized I couldn’t live without either.  I got Vivian her own place and car, everything her heart desired.

         Now on the eve of the biggest election of my life for the top spot in the land the press had found out all about Vivian and the drugs.  I was ruined.  My life started to unravel quickly after that.  Feeling good didn’t seem to matter anymore.  My campaign manager rushed to do what damage control he could.  Unfortunately, the damage had been done.  No one wanted a cocaine addict as their leader and a prostitute as their First Lady.  No one was impressed with the perfect persona I had been selling once they learned the truth.  It didn’t matter how much the voters had loved my ideas, how great a speech maker I was, or what a sterling track record I had in public office previously.    Once the truth was out, there was nothing any of my campaign team could do to turn things back to our favor.  We gave it everything we had, but it wasn’t enough.  I lost the election.  I lost my perfect family and dog.  I lost my credibility.  In the end, I lost my dream.  All I was left with was Vivian and a stint in prison for possession.

      Still determined to have it all in the end, I had a sex change, found religion and thanks to millions spent in plastic surgery became Vivian.   I changed my clothes, my hair and face and am now the hottest thing in Hollywood.   I am feeling good, that is, until the press finds out.

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Guilty

      Sweat beaded up on my brow. My heart raced. She couldn’t have seen.    She was only five years old.  I had nothing to worry about! Her testimony would convict me. I did kill him.  He deserved it. Surely they wouldn’t believe her!  

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Essence of Writing Haiku

compose and create

electrify intellect

impress hearts and souls

Written for the "Write Tribe on Wednesday" prompt.  

 In honor and in memory of the phenomenal work of 

Maya Angelou (April 4, 1928-May 28, 2014). 

 While she said many quotes over the course of her lifetime that resonated with me, 

I was to choose my favorite about writing and allow it to inspire me as a writing prompt.

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The Visitors

     There is no warning rattle at the door.  If there were, I would have escaped out the back.  I wouldn’t have boldly thrown the door open.  There were three of them, clutching bibles and Jesus tracts as if they were a lifeline.    The two men were dressed in three piece suits and the lady in her Sunday best.  All three were sweating profusely; after all it was 100 degrees in the shade easily.   

       All three plastered on concerned faces and fake smiles as the man clutching the biggest bible inquired if I had found Jesus.  I felt my eyes roll as the smart ass in me took over, silently asking the good Lord above for forgiveness.  Providence knows HE gets me, after all… HE is supposed to get everybody even these Bible beaters attempting to force religion down people’s throats door to door.  I forced an innocent smile on my face and feigned concern.

        “Honestly I didn’t know HE was lost!  Are you three the search party?”  I asked innocently.  They gaped at me and tried a different tactic.

         “Have you been saved dearie?” the woman asked.

         “Have you read His glorious word?” asked the second man who up until now had remained silent.

        I glanced over their shoulders to the gate they left opened.   I had painted the heart that welcomes all a bright fiery red just the weekend before.  A small bird sat perched watching the antics that were playing out on the porch.  I felt the love of God warming my heart and felt His gaze through this tiny creature.  My attention swiftly returned to my unwelcome guests and I felt a small wave of compassion.

      “I appreciate your interest in my salvation, but if you would please excuse me I need to prepare my sermon for Sunday.  Bless you all in your quest in finding Jesus.  I wish you all the best of luck.”   With that, I smiled at their astonished faces, and quietly took my leave closing the door gently behind me.

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