Tag Archives: fiction

You Have Done A Bad Thing

26 Thursday May 2022

Posted by in Fiction, Uncategorized

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His vision began to clear. He remembered everything being black moments ago. But was it moments? Or minutes? Or hours or days? He couldn’t be sure. He looked at his hands, empty. His shirt clean. Then his memories began to clear.

“They shot me.” He said aloud. His voice was there but not. I’d didn’t echo or carry. “They shot me, I remember that.” He remembered it but had no emotion. It was like a fact from the past. His past but not. Just something that happened to some one.

“Where am I?” He stood. He thought he’d be shaky or unsteady but he was not. He looked around the room. It was gray. Floor to ceiling. Not dark, but there was no light fixture to keep it from being dark, but somehow there was light.

“You did a bad thing.” A voice, from no where and everywhere said.

“What? Who is that!? Where are you?” He asked aloud. The voice echoed inside the room but his did not. It sat in the air around him.

“You did a very bad thing.” The voice spoke again. It’s tone was lower now. He sensed he should feel something but could not. “You did a very VERY BAD THING.” The voice seemed to roar those last words. The reverberated against the walls. And now he could feel something. He felt the voice echo in his bones.

He put his hands on his chest and torso, as if he could hold his insides, keep them from shaking. His hands felt wet. He pulled them away and they were bloody now. His shirt was covered in blood. He could feel the sting. It started as a sting.

“YOU HURT THOSE CHILDREN.” The voice shook the room. “INNOCENTS.”

Pain shot through him as his bones and guts vibrate inside him. He felt tears on his face as his eyes blurred and burned. He touched his face with shaky hands to wipe the tears but what he wiped away wasn’t tears but more blood. “I’m bleeding to death!” He screamed. But again his voice seemed to go no where.

“YOU ARE ALREADY DEAD.” The voice tore at him. “AND THAT IS NOT YOUR BLOOD.”

Then the screams started. Children’s screams. They ripped out of his ears, his eyes, his chest. They were coming out of him, tearing him to pieces. The pain he could not feel before received it’s revenge. It ripped its payment from the inside out. He could feel it clawing away at his chest.

“YOU ESCAPED EARTHLY PUNISHMENT. YOU SHALL NOT ESCAPE THE ETERNAL.” The voice boomed.

He fell to the floor. On his hands and knees he tried to squeeze his eyes closed. To not see the bloody gray floor before him. For a brief moment he wanted to beg.

Painful cries of broken hearts began in chorus with children’s screams, a dreadful song of fear and pain and sorrow.

He choked on blood now pouring from his mouth. “God,” he strangled out. “Please—” he began.

“I AM NO GOD.” The voice boomed. “YOU CANNOT REPENT YOUR SINS TO ME AND BE FORGIVEN.”

He gurgled a groan in misery. And then the voice was in his ears a whisper and and yet still so terrible.

“I AWAKEN WHEN INNOCENT VOICES ARE SILENCED WITH VIOLENCE. I RISE WHEN ACTS OF EVIL ARE COMMITTED. WHEN DEBTS MUST BE PAID.” The voice sliced at him like a whip. “I COME FOR THOSE WHO DO BAD THINGS.” The voice said. “AND YOU HAVE DONE A BAD THING.”

He writhed in pain. Wondered when it would stop. Wondered if it would ever stop. At the precipice of blackness, all sound stopped, and he heard nothing for a brief moment but his own struggling breath.

And then the voice spoke again. Quiet this time. “NOW HEAR THE SOUNDS YOU’VE SILENCED. HEAR WHAT YOU’VE TAKEN AWAY FROM THE WORLD. HEAR AND ANGUISH. FOR YOU WILL FOREVER ANGUISH LIKE THOSE WHOSE HEARTS YOU’VE BROKEN.

Then, one of the most beautiful sounds in all the world, the sweetest of sounds. Laughter and happiness, of children, of women, of men. For the innocent souls of those taken too soon suffer no more. In spite of what someone might want.

Uncountable moments or minutes or hours or days later, blackness turned to blur, blur turned to a gray room with light but no light. And a booming a voice from no where and everywhere. “You have done a bad thing.”

There is a conversation that needs to be had. But too many opinions of what needs to be said make peace and compromise impossible. I feign no knowledge or authority on any subject matter. I only know what I feel and believe. At some point I’ll share my options on the subject matter. But for now I’ll keep those lost, those hurt, and those left behind in my thoughts. As always. Thanks for reading.

-c

Throwback Thursday: Let’s Create a Character

10 Thursday Mar 2022

Posted by in Audience participation, Character, Fiction, Let’s Create, Throwback Thursday, Uncategorized

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In which I utilized my Facebook page and #audienceparticipation to create a character and write a short story about her. I really liked this one.

Original Post

For the first time in a long time she drove home with a smile on her face. Despite the late hour she spent the whole ride home singing along to her car radio—even if it wasn’t her favorite song. And she was happy as could be. It was late, and she was tired and in need of a shower, but she was happy.

She took a sharp curve too fast, and something in her trunk shifted. For a brief moment the old feelings of not being good enough and self consciousness flashed across her face like a dark shadow. But it was brief. “I’ll take care of that garbage tomorrow.” She told herself, and continued loudly singing along.

When she got home, she slammed the car into park and the thing in the trunk shifted again. She blinked at the sound. Then, she turned off the car and went inside.

She sang in the shower—it always seemed to be the last song she heard that got stuck in her head—she belted out the chorus to that catchy pop tune that seemed to be everywhere at the moment, and used her loofa as a microphone. Afterward, instead of laying in bed thinking about all the depressing stuff, she curled up under the covers and pushed all the negative thoughts out of her head. “Tomorrow is a new day,” she told herself. “And I’m going to own it.”

When she woke the next morning she was bright eyed and bushy tailed and still very happy. She made herself a delicious breakfast; there was nothing like a good meal to start your day right. She was feeling so confident that she decided, for the first time in a while, she would dress up for work, and put on some make-up.

Once she was ready, cute dress and “frankly the best make-up look I’ve ever done,” she looked at herself in the full length mirror. “People are going to ask, “why are you so dressed up today” and “what’s with all the makeup?!”” She realized it would draw more attention to her. “I’m going to feel so stupid!” She groaned.

“You can wrap a pig in velvet and throw some lipstick on it but it’ll still be a pig,” she remembered. The darkness of that old depression and low self worth shaded her face once again. But again she froze, and when she looked back up, she smiled at herself in the mirror and said, “You look great today!” And she did.

Once in the car, she pulled out of her parking spot and the thing in her trunk moved again. She paused, then said, “I’ll take care of that later.” And turned her radio up.
Throughout her work day she got complements she’d never gotten from people who she thought didn’t know she existed. They said things like, “you look great today!” And “wow, cute dress!” For the first time in ages she felt confident. “Maybe,” she thought, “I’ll keep this up, I feel so great!”

Toward the end of the day there was free cake and drinks in the cafeteria in celebration of someone’s retirement. She was enjoying cake and conversation—she usually took her cake back to her cubicle— when she over heard people talking.

“No, she never came in to work. I was about to ask you if you’d spoken to her.” A man said.

“I actually haven’t spoken to her since yesterday,” the woman responded.

“I wonder if everything’s okay? She doesn’t usually miss work.” The man said.

“Especially if there’s a chance to make fun of people for eating too much cake!” He laughed.

She just stared at them, a darkness rolling over her face once again.

“HEY!” She heard a voice. She turned toward the sound. “You okay? You zoned out there for a minute,”

“Oh, sorry. Yeah, I’m—actually I’m not feeling well.” She said. “I think I’ll have to sneak out early.” She put her unfinished cake down, and rushed back to her cubical for her purse and keys. As she ran out to her car she felt the lovely veneer of happiness begin to crack.

When she turned the car on, the radio she left loud blasted a song, scaring a tiny scream out of her. She stifled it and turned the radio down. He backed out as the sky darkened with gray storm clouds.

She took a few curves too fast as the heavy droplets of rain slapped her car. The dark gray sky worsened as she drove the unfamiliar roads. She tried to keep singing along to the radio, but kept getting distracted. Instead she tried to focus on the road, and staying safe in the heavy rain.

She hadn’t driven the route in some time, and it was brighter and drier when she had, but she had business to take care of, and she knew she’d be happier once she did.

A few more minutes and a few sharpe curves later and she was at her destination. She backed her car against the cliff and hit the trunk button on her dash, quickly climbing out of the car and into the rain.

She took a deep breath and raised the trunk lid. The tarp had come unwrapped and a lock of perfectly bleached blonde hair and a red-manicured hand peaked out. “No one likes taking out the trash but everyone has to do it sometime.” She told herself.

She reached in and grabbed the corner of the tarp to pull it closer and the head of gorgeous blonde hair rolled forward. For a spilt second the darkness appeared and she thought, “Oh no!” She froze, but then refocused and said aloud, “almost done.”

She pulled and tugged until the blonde object was close, then one last hard tug, and she watched as the object in the trunk rolled down the embankment—hitting a few rocks on the way—and into the the lake below. She looked over the edge just long enough to make sure the object was gone, then she smiled widely and climbed back into her car.

Her cute dress ruined by rain and mud, her make-up smeared and running down her cheeks, she smiled in the rear view mirror and said to herself, “You looked great today.”
She pulled away from the cliff and drove away singing that catchy pop song that was everywhere these days.

I really enjoyed this one and thought I’d share again.

Thanks for reading,
-c

Black Friday: A Zombie Story

21 Monday Feb 2022

Posted by in Black Friday: A Zombie Story, Fiction

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My most popular (but mostly with the people who were in it and know me) story will be a decade old in November. Here’s a little throwback to poor video making skills.

Regardless of all the typos, run-ons, inconsistencies, and bloopers, it’ll always hold a special place in my heart.

Hope I can write something again!

Thanks for reading!

-c

Unicorn, Honey Badger, Potato

15 Tuesday Feb 2022

Posted by in Family, Fiction, True Story

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And convincing my child to do her homework

So, once or twice a week my kid’s teacher has her students write their numbers. This week it’s 401-500. The Kid struggles with it because “it’s boring”. Also the ADHD doesn’t help. I, however, have discovered ways of distracting her into thinking it’s a game. One such way was telling her I would write a story while she wrote her numbers. And I wanted to see how many she could write before I finished the story.

The random words were: Unicorn, Honey badger, and Potato. This is that story.

Once upon a time, Huey the Honey Badger was looking for dinner. He was running through the forest, his tummy was growling. He stepped in a hole abs rolled down a hill into a part of the forest he has never been in before.

When he picked himself up, he looked around. What he saw could only be described as magical! There was a pond sparking with glittery pink water. The trees were hung with mysterious and delectable looking fruit, and the gentle breeze smelled of cotton candy.

Huey was so hungry he couldn’t decide whether he was dreaming or not. Then from between the blue and yellow trees there stepped a beautiful creature he had never seen before. “Are you all right?” It asked. It was white with rainbow hair and tail, and silvery horn in it’s head.

“I’m okay,” Huey said. “Where am I?” He asked.

“You are in Candyland. I am Ursula the Unicorn.”

Just them Huey’s tum rumbled. “Oh dear,” said Ursula, “you sound hungry! But if you eat anything here you can never leave!” She said.

Huey was sad. He had friends back home.

“Oh wait!” Ursula said. She used her nose to push something toward him. “This plain brown thing is not of this land. Perhaps you can eat it and return again!”

Huey looked at the brown thing. “Oh that’s just a potato!” He said. “I love potatoes!” Huey munched on the potato filling his empty stomach. “That was satisfying, thank you!”

“You’re welcome!” Said Ursula. “If you leave you will be able to return and we can become friends!”

Huey found his way home but promised to return so he and Ursula could become friends. It took many days for him to find the hole he had tripped him, that caused him to fall down the hill into Candyland. But he made sure to take a tasty potato snack when he went!

And Huey the Honey Badger, and Ursula the Unicorn did become best friends!

It worked.

I managed to drag it out for a bit so she could “beat me” and she finished writing the rest of her numbers!

This story is absolutely silly, completely bonkers, and total nonsense. But I kinda love it. If I had more time in my hands and the skill with which to do it, I would illustrate it!

Anyway, that’s my post for today, even if it’s after 10pm and I’m about to doze off! Have a good one, folks!

Thanks for Readinf!

-c

#PretendFantasyNovel

14 Monday Feb 2022

Posted by in Pretend Fantasy Novel, Uncategorized

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The Story So Far

I have a number of social media outlets which I attempt to use for shameless self-promotion and amusement.

(Facebook Group, Facebook page, Twitter, Instagram, tumblr)

On my Facebook Group, I’ve begun an adventure I may never return from.

A #pretentfantasynovel was started when I decided that I needed to do something to keep my brain from going all mushy.

The first poll.

I rather enjoy polls. They’re only available as a post option in groups, on Facebook. At least on mobile. That’s the number one reason why I’ve kept the group. I get more interaction with people there than I do on my main page, which I’ve had for YEARS.

On my group I irregularly (if you know me then you know) post polls under #pretendfatasynovel topic. Each poll asks you to choose different elements of the story.

The Story So Far

Our main character is a woman who is reluctantly thrown into an adventure she regrets.

Our heroine has a talking animal or animal like sidekick.

This talking sidekick is animal that we’d see in real life. The talking bit is, so far, the only magic part about it!

TBH, those two polls about the animal sidekick are mildly confusing. So we’re going with a non-mythical creature who can talk.

Our main villain is in fact the last person you’d expect. This particular villain is going to be the worst one, but perhaps not the only one? It is a fantasy after all!

Our female hero, with a talking animal companion, who is a normal talking animal, carries a great sword as her weapon of choice! There’s a backstory to this, I just know it!

In every fantasy there’s always a constant background battle shadowing the active plot. Yes, we have a villain, but what’s the motivation? What’s the thing that’s threatening everyone, including the baddie? It’s some task that must be completed to prevent the end of times! We’ll have to find some sort of artifacts and gather them!

But this, the best part of it all. The fact that I got to use the names of all (twelve) of the people who have participated in the polls, with absolutely no promise of an actual story.

At the time of this post, the poll is still open. But I can see, unless a lot of people decide that they need to vote, there’s a clear winner.

Welcome to Arynthel

There will be more polls coming (now on Monday’s and Wednesday’s), including polls to help choose things about characters and other aspects of the story!

I’ll probably continue using the polls throughout the writing of the story.

But the people who have participated regularly in the polls up until this point(I know who they are) will be rewarded for their help. I don’t know if it will be the kind of reward they’d prefer but it’s what I have right now.

I’ll also post updates here on my site for anyone interested who doesn’t follow the polls, or my page. So stay tuned!

Thanks for reading!

-c

Fiction Friday: Quick Fic

07 Friday Jan 2022

Posted by in Fiction, Fiction Friday, Quickie Fiction

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Going to try to make this a habit. But I’m not making any promises. We know how I do.
Created using Canva

The fog was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife. Normal lights afforded you some visibility but brights turned the fog into a bright white wall of nothing that followed five feet in front of you as you drove.

So I kept my driving lights on avoiding brights despite my desire to improve visibility. The still lingering clouds turned what should have been early morning light into darkness, at least what I could tell through the fog.

Once in a while I passed a street light. It illuminated the rock wall, guardrails, and pavement. But it’s light couldn’t pierce further than the small area below it.

It had been raining for days, sometimes a drizzle sometimes a mist. But mostly just a downpour so heavy your wipers couldn’t keep up. But it had stopped long enough for there to be a few dry patches here and there.

There weren’t many other vehicles on the road aside from mine. As early as it was, on the weekend nonetheless, no one in their right mind would be out if they didn’t have to be. I would have much preferred a warm bed as opposed to a long dark damp road.

No, one wouldn’t expect another soul to be on these roads. but here I was traveling unhappily to work. I was admittedly tired, a little distracted by the thought of all I had to do. That and the fog was why I didn’t see it at first.

I’d been looking at the road ahead, as one should, and I glanced down for a moment to check my speed. It was that split second it took my mind to register what I’d seen, and look back up that startled me.

It’d been much further when I first saw it. A dark figure in the foggy distance. Backlit by a streetlight, just enough to make out a vaguely human shape. And it stood in the middle of the road.

I slammed on the breaks, the truck tires squealing on the asphalt, a wet spot on the road caused slight fishtailing. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, and opened them.

I expected to see whatever it was bathed in the glow of my headlights, or worse, splayed across the hood of my truck, despite hearing no sound of the sort. But instead, I saw nothing.

I blinked a few times, rubbed the sleep from my eyelids, and squinted into the thick fog.

There it was. Further ahead than where I’d imaged, despite the distance I’d traveled. It was as if it’d leapt ahead of me. But it was still there. Lingering.

I took a deep breath, composed myself, then let off the breaks and hit the gas, slower this time. I kept an eye on the road and an eye on the thing in front. As I drove it seems to remain just at the edge of the fog, as if it were moving along with me.

So I tested it. I picked up speed, so did it. When I slowed, it did too. And unlike most objects, when you were moving toward it in the distance that “grew” in size as you got closer, this did not. It remained the same size.

I slowed to a complete stop in the middle of the road, staring at it. I knew I only had about another mile and a half until I reached my destination, with one turn off. Until this point it has been a relatively straight stretch.

So I floored it.

I didn’t even think about it when I did it. Just put my foot in the gas abs gave it my all. The revved and the tires squealed again as I peeled out.

I wanted to see it move. To catch up with it. Wanted it to get bigger as I got closer. It did nothing. Until I looked away.

A porch light had come on, perhaps awoken by the roaring of my engine and squealing of tires and I glanced quickly toward the light, my attention drawn, and then back.

And there it was, ten feet in front of me, still black as nothingness, still backlit by… nothing.

I slammed on the brakes once again, almost locking them up, jerking the truck to a sudden stop. I should have been within feet of hitting it—had I wanted to hit it?—but when I opened my eyes, it was gone again.

I looked for it ahead of me. It had been maintaining its position in the middle of the road, this time when it leapt ahead it had practically flown away. I did not see it go, nor where it might have went. But it was gone.

People were looking out their windows now. I’d made it into downtown without realizing it. My abnormally reckless driving had woken some residents from their dreary morning slumber. And it had begun to look like morning. Sunlight was peaking trough breaks in clouds.

Perhaps the rain was done. Perhaps the sun would come out today. Perhaps the dark figure looming ahead had left to confuse and bewilder another unfortunate soul.

Either way, I was going to be late.

Thanks for reading!

-C

If you liked this, you might like this one too!

Black Pines

15 Wednesday Sep 2021

Posted by in Black Pine, coming soon, Fiction, Premium, silent secret

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Sponsored by Black Pines Tourism and Black Pines Historical Society

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“Black Pine Lake, whose water is sourced straight from fresh mountain runoff, stays perfectly cool and clear all year round, making it especially enjoyable in the hot summer months!”

“There’s something for everyone all year round in Black Pines! Come see us anytime, we’ll be happy to have ya!”

Learn more about Black Pines, featured in “Silent Secret” coming soon for premium subscription!

Quickie Fiction

02 Wednesday Jun 2021

Posted by in Fiction, Quickie Fiction

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The Concept

An experiment in which I randomly generate three words and attempt to write a short fiction using them. It’s 11:34pm and I’ve been up since 6am. Wish me luck!

The Words:
https://randomwordgenerator.com
The Fiction:
Blue Skies Are Boring

The sky was angry. Well, it wasn’t just angry. It was furious, like someone pissed in its Cheerios. It looked like it wanted to go John Wick on the culprit. But it withheld its revenge, for the moment.

Why is it every funeral Jay ever attended involved inclement weather? Snowing, raining, the gods taking their wrath upon mortal man for his misdeeds. There was always something.

“Blue skies are boring,” Katie mumbled. She had her forehead leaning against the cool glass of the passenger door, staring at the clouds, and until that moment was silent. “Nothing to see in them,” she added.

Jay glanced over at her, then glanced back out the driver’s side of the windshield. He wanted to focus on the string of cars in front of him.

“You’re gonna have a mark,” Jay told Katie. She said nothing. “On your forehead, from leaning against the window. A big ole red mark. People will wonder if I bonked you on the noggin.”

Katie shrugged but he could see out the corner of his eye she tried not to smile. He liked it when she smiled. He hadn’t seen her smile in a few days.

The procession of cars slowly came to a stop, but then continued slower as they made the final turn to the gravesite. Cars lined themselves along the fence, and people in various shades of black climbed out, and made their way silently to the graveside.

Katie flipped down the visor and looked in the mirror. “Told ya.” Jay said. She punched him in the arm and he laughed as he feigned pain. They walked side-by-side in silence.

Mourners had gathered, sitting and standing at the side of the closed casket, settling in as the officiant waited patiently. When everyone had placed themselves he began to speak of the deceased like one would hope to be spoken of in this moment. Good deeds, a big heart, loved by many, good person. Missed but no longer suffering. Blah blah blah.

These were all the same, Jay thought. And the older you get the more people you lose. He’d been to more than his fair share. He’ll skip the next one. This one, however, he could not.

After the words were spoken and tears shed it was time to pay final respects, say their final goodbyes. “Would I be a fool to believe we’ll see each other again?” He thought as he watched people step up to the casket, touch it gently, and walk away. “I think I’d prefer foolishness.”

He took his step up, placed a hand on the cream colored casket. The subtle gleam of pink pearliness seemed to glow despite the low light. He spread his fingers there and pressed as if to leave a mark in its perfect surface. When he removed his hand, for a split second, a fog remained—the heat of his hand on the cool surface—but that was all.

He turned and walked away, and glanced back. The sight he saw shook him. The lowering of the casket into the fresh hole, surrounded by strangers ready complete the task. And Katie. Standing there, watching him go.

For the first time in days he let himself feel it. He choked back a sob, a tear rolled down his cheek.

Katie smiled, waved a small wave. She mouthed the words, “I will see you again, big brother.” Then she smiled up at the sky.

Jay felt the first big drops of rain pelt his head and he too looked up. When he looked back she was gone. “Then a fool I’ll be.”

The Conclusion:

If you read I would love comments and/criticisms. This was a whim of an idea. I literally thought of it five minutes before I started. This is also the first fiction I’ve written in a very long time. It took a darker turn than I imagined, but when your words include “funeral” why not? Also it took me an hour.

Thanks for Reading

-c

“In the Closet”

16 Wednesday Dec 2020

Posted by in Fiction, Unfinished Business, Writing Prompt

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I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to take a trip down memory lane. I found a few things I forgot I’d written. Pretty sure I’ve never posted this. Im not sure if it’s finished but I think I like it the way it is.

Writing Prompt Wednesday (1)

“In The Closet”

As children, some of us are very curious. Some of us, when told not to do something, we say “Okay” and walk away disappointed. Some of us say, “Okay,” but then wonder, “Why?”

When Jane was a child, she was often told to stay out of her mom’s bedroom. She listened, most of the time. But when she got older, her imagination always got the best of her, and she’d sneak her way into her mother’s room, just to peak in drawers or look under the bed. She always got caught though.

Her mother would scold her, “What did I tell you?!” Then she’d point demandingly toward the doorway, and watch as her marched her butt out of the room.

Jane often imagined her mother was hiding piles of stolen money, stolen in a daring bank robbery committed before she had children. Or perhaps the family’s Crown Jewels were hidden somewhere in the closet, and they must be kept secret, lest evil henchmen of the dictator who ran the rightful rulers out of the exotic land discover their whereabouts and kidnap and murder them. Jane was a very imaginative child.

But she soon grew older. School and friends and life became more important than discovering her mother’s “secrets”, and the fun little game she played with her mother—against her mother’s will—was forgotten.

One day, when Jane was not quite an adult but no longer a child, her mom got sick. The  toughest woman she’d ever known got sick, and never really got better. Jane watched in distress and fear as her mother slowly deteriorated, the vibrant light she once carried ebbing away.

The day her mother died, Jane had spent the day by her side. They’d been told there wasn’t much time left, and Jane wanted to spend the last moments they had together not worrying about trivial things. She just wanted to be there for her mother, to let her know she wasn’t alone.

While her mother was in and out of lucidity—she spent more time in that heartbreaking haze of “here but not”—Jane still wanted her mom to know she was there. She’d talk about her day, her friends, sing a song, read aloud. She did not expect her mom to respond, she just knew that if the tables were turned, her mother wouldn’t leave her side.

They’d spent the day this way, keeping each other company, though it was a one sided task. During a quite moment, Jane had just finished a passage from her book, when she glanced up at her mother who hadn’t moved much on her own in days. Jane was shocked to see her mother reaching out to her.

She stood up quickly, grasped her mother’s hand, and leaned in close. “I’m here, mom. I’m here.” For the first time in a very long time, she turned to Jane, looked her in the eyes, and smiled. Tears very suddenly burst from Jane’s eyes. With great heaving sobs, all the stress and pain and loss burst forth and she couldn’t hold back anymore.

But though Jane sobbed, her mother smiled. She reached up to her daughter’s face, and rested a cool hand on her cheek. Jane pressed her hand against her mother’s wanting to remember that feeling. She began to calm as her mother smiled up at her, and soon both were smiling.

When Jane had calmed, she began telling her mother how much she loved her, and her mother just nodded in response as if saying, “I know, Jane.”

Very soon, though, the light began to fade, and her mother felt it too. She lifted her hand once more, this time in a familiar way. She raised her hand and pointed her finger, and Jane flashed back to her childhood of sneaking into that very room to “investigate”. Now, instead of pointing to the bedroom door, she pointed to the closet. “Not now mom,” Jane whispered, taking hold of the hand that pointed and squeezed gently. Then her mother seemed to muster her last bit of strength and whispered, “In the closet…”

A few days later, her mother was laid to rest precisely where she’d have wanted, next to her husband, and the flowers had already begun to wilt in the summer heat. Jane was resting at home, her mother’s home. Though she tried not to think of that day, her thoughts kept wandering back to her mother’s very last living moments on the earth. The brightest smile, the touch of her hand on her cheek. And that barely audible whisper, “In the closet.”

She stood up, and despite being a grown woman whose mother had recently passed, she still felt like a naughty sneaky little girl, whose mother was about to catch her tiptoeing into her bedroom. But now, instead of pulling on drawers and looking under the bed, she made a bee line for the closet door. She half expected it to be locked, but the knob turned and opened with no resistance.

For a moment she stood there, just looking at her mother’s clothes. There were items in there she’d had for years, here the dress she’d worn to her daughter’s graduation, there the slacks she’d worn when they visited college campuses. In the floor were shoes she’d not seen her mother wear in years. “I might still need them one day,” she could hear her mother say.

She looked up at the shelf above the hanging clothes. Folded neatly there were old bedspreads and quilts, tucked away until cooler nights made them necessary. But in the corner, pushed against the wall, and tucked under a stack of sheets was an old fashioned hat box Jane had never seen before.

Careful not to pull the sheets down on top of her, she slid the box out slowly, surprised at the weight of it. She carried it over to the bed and plopped it onto the foot. For a moment she just stood there, wondering what was in it, and allowing her childhood imagination to wonder.

Finally she took a deep breath and opened the lid.

LCAC

10 Sunday Nov 2019

Posted by in Audience participation, Character, Fiction, Let’s Create

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For the first time in a long time she drove home with a smile on her face. Despite the late hour she spent the whole ride home singing along to her car radio—even if it wasn’t her favorite song. And she was happy as could be. It was late, and she was tired and in need of a shower, but she was happy.

She took a sharp curve too fast, and something in her trunk shifted. For a brief moment the old feelings of not being good enough and self consciousness flashed across her face like a dark shadow. But it was brief. “I’ll take care of that garbage tomorrow.” She told herself, and continued loudly singing along.

When she got home, she slammed the car into park and the thing in the trunk shifted again. She blinked at the sound. Then, she turned off the car and went inside.

She sang in the shower—it always seemed to be the last song she heard that got stuck in her head—she belted out the chorus to that catchy pop tune that seemed to be everywhere at the moment, and used her loofa as a microphone. Afterward, instead of laying in bed thinking about all the depressing stuff, she curled up under the covers and pushed all the negative thoughts out of her head. “Tomorrow is a new day,” she told herself. “And I’m going to own it.”

When she woke the next morning she was bright eyed and bushy tailed and still very happy. She made herself a delicious breakfast; there was nothing like a good meal to start your day right. She was feeling so confident that she decided, for the first time in a while, she would dress up for work, and put on some make-up.

Once she was ready, cute dress and “frankly the best make-up look I’ve ever done,” she looked at herself in the full length mirror. “People are going to ask, “why are you so dressed up today” and “what’s with all the makeup?!”” She realized it would draw more attention to her. “I’m going to feel so stupid!” She groaned. “You can wrap a pig in velvet and throw some lipstick on it but it’ll still be a pig,” she remembered. The darkness of that old depression and low self worth shaded her face once again. But again she froze, and when she looked back up, she smiled at herself in the mirror and said, “You look great today!” And she did.

Once in the car, she pulled out of her parking spot and the thing in her trunk moved again. She paused, then said, “I’ll take care of that later.” And turned her radio up.

Throughout her work day she got complements she’d never gotten from people who she thought didn’t know she existed. They said things like, “you look great today!” And “wow, cute dress!” For the first time in ages she felt confident. “Maybe,” she thought, “I’ll keep this up, I feel so great!”

Toward the end of the day there was free cake and drinks in the cafeteria in celebration of someone’s retirement. She was enjoying cake and conversation—she usually took her cake back to her cubicle— when she over heard people talking.

“No, she never came in to work. I was about to ask you if you’d spoken to her.” A man said.

“I actually haven’t spoken to her since yesterday,” the woman responded.

“I wonder if everything’s okay? She doesn’t usually miss work.” The man said. “Especially if there’s a chance to make fun of people for eating too much cake!” He laughed.

She just stared at them, a darkness rolling over her face once again.

“HEY!” She heard a voice. She turned toward the sound. “You okay? You zoned out there for a minute,”

“Oh, sorry. Yeah, I’m—actually I’m not feeling well.” She said. “I think I’ll have to sneak out early.” She put her unfinished cake down, and rushed back to her cubical for her purse and keys. As she ran out to her car she felt the lovely veneer of happiness begin to crack.

When she turned the car on, the radio she left loud blasted a song, scaring a tiny scream out of her. She stifled it and turned the radio down. He backed out as the sky darkened with gray storm clouds.

She took a few curves too fast as the heavy droplets of rain slapped her car. The dark gray sky worsened as she drove the unfamiliar roads. She tried to keep singing along to the radio, but kept getting distracted. Instead she tried to focus on the road, and staying safe in the heavy rain.

She hadn’t driven the route in some time, and it was brighter and drier when she had, but she had business to take care of, and she knew she’d be happier once she did.

A few more minutes and a few sharpe curves later and she was at her destination. She backed her car against the cliff and hit the trunk button on her dash, quickly climbing out of the car and into the rain.

She took a deep breath and raised the trunk lid. The tarp had come unwrapped bad a lock of perfectly bleached blonde hair and a red-manicured hand peaked out. “No one likes taking out the trash but everyone has to do it sometime.” She told herself.

She reached in and grabbed the corner of the tarp to pull it closer and the head of gorgeous blonde hair rolled forward. For a spilt second the darkness appeared and she thought, “Oh no!” She froze, but then refocused and said aloud, “almost done.”

She pulled and tugged until the blonde object was close, then one last hard tug, and she watched as the object in the trunk rolled down the embankment—hitting a few rocks on the way—and into the the lake below. She looked over the edge just long enough to make sure the object was gone, the she smiled widely and climbed back into her car.

Her cute dress ruined by rain and mud, her make-up smeared and running down her cheeks, she smiled in the rear view mirror and said to herself, “You looked great today.”

She pulled away from the cliff and drove away singing that catchy pop song that was everywhere these days.

Thanks for reading,

-c