let me spin the wheel into the past,
so i can feel your mouth on mine
for the first time,
see the fire in my eyes
mirrored in yours,
feel your hands in my hair
as you circle for the kill,
i wanna forget,
not everything, but a little bit here
and a little bit there,
a do-over of a sort,
not for any reason really,
just to relive the pure pleasure,
the newness of it all
and the shivers you spread
through every cell in my body
In the spirit of truth, justice, and the Girl Scout Code of Honor, I’m loopy right now due to another dental visit and the subsequent pain-pills needed to keep me from putting a stick of dynamite in my mouth to stop the pain of, well, everything I guess but lets stick to the subject at hand. Err, mouth.
So I didn’t sleep very well last night, in fact I woke up every hour inbetween little bursts of weird sleep leaving my mind to wander weirdly.
Like, is there television in Heaven?
Because all the shows I used to watch with my Mom, I now watch through her eyes and wonder, did she get to see Nene’s wedding and does she get to watch Almost Royal? Is she keeping up with all the fake reality shows we used to love to snark about together and does she have any pull to make sure that Orphan Black eventually gets some recognition since the Emmy snub happened again?
Is she hanging out with all my relatives and does she know that everyone in the entire family except me can’t stand my Dad and I’m the only one helping him out?
Is she happy that I spread her ashes in Cape May and did she send the snow when I did so to remind me of our last trip together when it snowed so I wouldn’t feel so sad?
Does she know I found the Birthday Card she bought me before she died and how much I treasure it?
Is there something I could have done to keep her here with me longer and it is it my fault she died? Does she know I blame myself even though my head knows there was nothing I could do?
Does she know I keep dreaming about her dying in my arms as we both sob?
Does she know I have so many questions that will remain unanswered?
Does she know how much I miss her?
Does she know how much I love her?
I’ve decided that yes, there is TV in Heaven. And yes my Mom knows all the things I wonder about. And yes, someday I will see her again and all my questions will be answered.
And yes, someday, Mom and I will once again watch TV in Heaven and snark away.
In the mean time, I think it’s time for another pain pill.
And please excuse my ramblings, I’m getting back to me slower than I thought.
But I shall leave you with this: betcha’ by golly wow my Mom is up there right now trying to fast forward through the commercials.
My life is a consecutive round after round of ugh.
Not a good old fashioned 18 holes on a real golf course round, you’re more likely to find me on the miniature golf course just putting my way from tourist hole after tourist hole. Which, by the way, I kick ass at mini-golf. But I digress.
Although I have a feeling nothing I just wrote makes any sense, I also have a feeling you kinda know what I mean; I’ve been blech for longer than necessary and it’s got me all out of whack.
Abscessed tooth when my dentist is on vacation?
Driving my Dad to a doctor appointment with above mentioned tooth problem when the “real feel” temperature was 109 degrees?
A combination of antibiotics, excess heat, pain medication, and who-knows-what-else causing me to hurl repeatedly like a 15 year old drinking an entire bottle of some kind of awful alcohol?
Ok so you get the idea, I’ve been having a shitty week which in turn has kept me blog-less and yucky.
Who the hell wants to read about my combination of ick? Not me.
I hate this feeling, when your body betrays you and says “yo bitch, I’M the one in charge here, not you” then proceeds to show you just how in charge you’re not, by spewing once again. And I know a big part of it is the damn antibiotics I’m taking but I kinda have no choice; they are helping me while making me sick at the same time.
The last thing I want to do is write, but the only thing I want to do is write.
I’m neck deep in conundrum-ville which isn’t even a real thing but I’m feeling so yucky I can’t care.
I just wanted to say hey, poke my head up into the World of Pressed Words and give a big old belated All American Happy 4th of July to my American friends, an apology to my British friends for previous traitors in the 17-somethings (can you tell I’ve been watching Almost Royal?) leading to a tiny bit of division amongst us which we crass Americans celebrate with fireworks and burnt meat.
Confession: it’s taken me several days to scrape together these few words. I wish I could say it was writers block that kept me away, that sounds more dramatic and tortured artist-like than stupid sickness but that would be a big fat lie.
So here’s the deal:
Pain meds? Done.
Weak week? Done-(ish).
Catching up on my writing? Same as me, a work in progress.
It’s long past time for me to jump back into the pool of words swimming in my brain and get back into the writing groove.
Hopefully, at the least, I’ll remember how to doggie paddle, if not, I’ll just float.
Finally, my lovelies, as mentioned before,
after much begging and whining on my part The Reclining Gentleman
has been gracious enough to write another version of the Fiction Relay, but this time it’s called the Fiction Rally and it’s just TRG and this girl here writing what will be, well, actually we have no idea what it’ll be, but that’s half the fun. So after going here for Part 1,
please, enjoy, Part 2 of the Fiction Rally. Where this will go? C’mon along for the ride, we’ll find out together!
Hidden behind a copy of a newspaper someone else had left behind, Daniel patiently waited for the train to enter the darkness of the tunnel.
Thankfully she stepped into the carriage alone, no other passengers to get in his way, no foreseeable obstacles, this should be easy peasy, just the way he liked it.
To the casual observer he appeared to be absorbed in the newspaper he held in front of his face, as if he didn’t notice anyone else boarding the train, but he was aware of every movement she made.
Daniel had gotten rather good at observing everything around him while remaining unnoticed. Another little trick he’s picked up on the road, his ability to blend in had saved his own neck on more than one occasion.
It wasn’t long before he noticed the chugging of the train had lulled her to sleep, a deviation from her normal routine he intended to take full advantage of.
Danny took it as a sign, now or never, it was time to earn his paycheck.
He’d been riding this route for weeks now, memorizing the stops, timing the length of total darkness as the train made it’s way through the tunnel, working out every possible variable he could imagine so he’d be ready for anything.
It was simple really. All he had to do was drop off the sealed envelope into her bag and get out of there.
That was it.
Once he was done, he was done.
For real this time. Not only would his debt be paid off but he’d have enough money left over to get out of this place and leave his run of bad luck behind him.
Hell, if he played his cards right he might be able to get out of the bloody country, he needed to leave the past where it belonged and move on. Daniel would have laughed out loud if he was alone, playing cards is what got him in this particular position in the first place. But this was it. This would be his last “errand” to pay off his tab and then he’d be free of the whole lot of them.
As the train entered the tunnel he stood up quietly, hoping the swaying of the cars would keep her sleeping. After the last botched job, Daniel wanted to be sure there was no blood on his hands with this one.
Never much of a napper, Jennifer rarely fell asleep riding a train. She was more inclined to stare out at the scenery as it flew by, sipping on a cup of caffeine as she planned out her day. Then again, this wasn’t her usual day. In fact, things hadn’t been “usual” at all these last few weeks and she hadn’t been sleeping well on top of everything else. When she did manage to sleep for any length of time her dreams were always dark and muddled. She’d wake up shaking, covered in sweat, a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.
Her dreams always began differently but they all ended the same way, Jennifer crouched on an unfamiliar floor in an unfamiliar room cradling the body of someone dying. She never saw who it was dying in her arms, but every time without fail she, Jennifer, was crying and shouting for help in her dreams until she inevitably woke herself up, heart racing, eyes swollen from crying in her sleep.
It was enough to put anyone off sleeping but unfortunately the body needed it’s rest, and between the emotional roller-coaster she’d been on and the motion of the train, Jennifer was exhausted. Inevitably, her eyes closed and she began to doze off.
Daniel took small measured steps as he inched closer to his target. The last thing he needed was for her to wake up and catch him messing with her belongings. Truth was, he had no idea what was in the envelope nor did he want to know. All he wanted was to be free of the bullshit hanging over his head. He’d taken on some pretty undesirable tasks in an attempt to get out of the sticky situations he too frequently found himself in, but this was the last of it.
A slip of an envelope into a stranger’s bag and he was on his way to another life.
He’d been keeping tabs on her for weeks as per instructions.
Getting to know her routine was easy with the packet of information he’d been sent, she rarely strayed from it, she seemed to be a creature of habit.
But Daniel was waiting to catch her alone and there always seemed to be someone near her.
Time was running out for him, he was beginning to worry, imagining he’d have to stumble near her in a crowd and slip the envelope into one of her bags.
Until today, when she deviated from her normal routine.
This was the first time he’d seen her take an afternoon train and somebody up there must have been looking out for him because this was also the first time he’d been alone in the same car as her.
His hands were shaking as he realized her bag was slightly open, just enough to make the drop without having to touch her belongings although he did make sure to slip on a pair of gloves just in case.
Whatever was in the envelope, Danny didn’t know if it was legal, illegal, or, for all he knew, it could have been something as simple as a love letter. It didn’t matter to him, all he cared about was the payoff and a plane ticket out of this place.
what i would wish,
is that you would study me
like a mathematical problem,
or an abstract painting,
get to the heart of the matter
and ease my troubled mind,
if i told you i think of you always
you’d call me a liar and laugh that way you do,
tell me i’m cute when i’m silly, using different words that mean the same,
so instead i say nothing,
just write the script in my head, where it stays,
filed away with all those bits of me
nobody ever sees,
your analytical side overrules everything
making it easier for me
i don’t believe in wishes anymore,
they never come true
a glimmer, a sparkle,
a lifeline, urging me back in
just when i’m sinking too deep,
just when i’m beginning to scare even me
as i look around and recognize nothing,
with all my familiars out of sight,
suffocating in shadows not my own,
mine disappeared when everything turned mechanical,
i don’t know where anybody went, you see,
unsure if i’m the one who disappeared,
used to my tendency to fade away, of course,
i do wonder where the pitchfork-jabs came from,
i opened my eyes and saw my strength yielding the weapon
and i questioned my every breath,
faerie dust glittered around me in a coincidental manner
and yes, that was a rope hanging in the corner,
i can see the shimmer in the distance
and i grab on tight,
hand over hand i climb slow but near steady,
anxious once again,
TaDa! And we’re off! Fiction Rally Part One ~ Next stop, my blog. Buckle up, it’s gonna be a hell of a ride!
Originally posted on The Reclining Gentleman:
As promised, here is the first part of a new collaborative fiction project that Joanne will be writing with me. Where will the plot take us? No idea. How long will it take us to get there? Dunno. Will the plot get as complicated and inpenetrable to the casual reader (but brilliantly fun and self-twisting for those who read from the start) as the Fiction Relay did? hashtag shrug.
I’ll probably do a homepage and summary later, but it doesn’t seem worth it after one chapter.
OK here it is, Fiction Rally part one. Enjoy…
Jennifer kicked her bag along the floor as the queue shuffled forward. She glanced up to the station departures board. The next London train was due to leave in nine minutes – probably long enough for her to buy a ticket and find the platform, especially as red letters next to the time flashed “overdue”…
View original 437 more words
you make me think
more than i should,
see, my stubborn claws just won’t let go of a thing,
but when those movies fill my head,
they’re mine, not yours,
or maybe they’re coincidentally ours
because i don’t steal your thoughts
and you don’t steal mine,
the similarities are purely unintentional,
or another version of the chicken and the egg
and what came first,
an unanswerable riddle,
kinda like how we found ourselves on the same side of the road,
i wonder sometimes,
if we deviated from the norm
maybe hid amongst the brush and foliage,
lost in a pile of forgotten clutter,
would anyone notice?
Yay! Get ready for the new Fiction Rally!
Originally posted on The Reclining Gentleman:
I enjoyed running the Fiction Relay last year, I learnt a lot as a writer. It stretched me to follow the plot and characters in directions I would not normally have gone, and because the Relay was written in a linear way, it taught me a lot about continuity too. Going back and making changes was not possible so we had to make sure every fact remained consistent. And I learnt how to develop plot when I had no idea where to go. I would search back and find tiny details from 20 chapters ago and use them as plot drivers. Normally these breadcrumbs can be sprinkled in on a later rewrite but as there was only going to be one draft, we had to find and make breadcrumbs as we went along. If you haven’t read it, the homepage of the Relay is here where you will find links…
View original 150 more words
there’s a wrinkle in my time stream
just enough to spin me ’round in circles,
i’m unaware of my direction,
unable to distinguish between then and now,
here or there or up or down,
because it’s not in my hands, not always,
i see paths intermingled but the signs all read the same
in a language i don’t understand,
so once again i find myself lost,
you used to keep me company, at least inside my head,
and if i told you i felt abandoned you’d remind me
of my tendency to fill in the blanks with black,
i stay silent by default,
broken only by the sound of whoever it is you need me to be,
i can slip in and out of every shade of me, or,
call on my improvisational skills for the duration of the scene,
i wonder sometimes, if any of this is real,
or maybe i just dreamed myself up and escaped through a crack,
until i find myself, or an answer to an impossible riddle,
silence is safest,
necessary at the least,
until i find my way back to where i began,
silence will keep my secrets,
as i float without purpose
and with no sense of direction,