Tuesday, March 25, 2014

A Seeking Wanderer

Linking up once again with Write on Edge. We were given a quote:
Still round the corner there may wait, A new road or a secret gate.
~J. R. R. Tolkien
and a photo :

Along with a few rules to follow. Which led me to write:

A Seeking Wanderer

The emptiness had all but devoured me. I went out, wandering. The lights and the sounds of the city streets trapped me. I felt abandoned, but from what? Friends had called it depression, others just a temporary crisis. My wandering led me to a building. The sign identified it as a church. I didn't pay attention to its name or religion. I sat. A song from inside brought me back to my childhood and family. Both were many miles gone now. Almost in habit, my head  bowed and words were whispered. The words simple, not full of emotion, not desperate. Just simple, "Where do I go? How do I change?"

In the morning, I awoke. I went through my routine and headed to the office. My mind shifted into gear and went through its pattern of the every day. The thoughts that sent me wandering were buried as usual to allow me to walk through the day. I nodded and mumbled as I walked by others. I would carry on...or so I thought.

 An email interrupted routine. The subject line...Your Answer to Destination and Change. My brain quickly shifted to the steps and the previous night. I opened it.

At the end of Highway 301 in the town of Brecksville you will find a country road. Walk it.

"Still round the corner there may wait; a new road or a secret gate."

It is where you should go and how you will change.

No signature. No further direction. But I knew...I needed to go. I shut down my computer and walked down the halls and into the street. I went home and took off my suit. I put on jeans and a t-shirt. I went to my closet and found a backpack from my college hiking days and packed it with some necessities. I left...and I headed to the end of Highway 301 in the town of Breckville.

The emptiness of the road was welcome compared to the noise of life I was walking from. The breeze carried over the golden growth beside me, energized me. It had a quiet push forward. It encouraged me on toward the road that stretched beyond imagination and dreams. That was my goal...to go beyond my imagination and dreams. To find purpose and meaning.

What was that I felt spread across my face...a smile? Foreign and strange it sat there, bewildering my heart. Anger and resentment had built walls, fear and confusion hid hope.

But now the echo of words I once read called me onward down a road to…to where?

The road or that gate somehow gave reason to move, gave motivation to plan, and the mystery of it allowed me to cast doubt aside and seeking and searching down a road I never knew, to a place still unknown.

As the sun was starting to set and chill came from the breeze I found a gate...hidden by overgrowth and sort of secret. I opened it and found a new road...


Wednesday, February 5, 2014

City Prisoners

I am linking up with Write at the Merge this week for some flash fiction, word limit 108. They gave me the first 8.
Always a challenge, every word becomes so important.

This is what I came up with....(106 words)

The bells of St. Brigit's are calling tonight.
The sounds of the bells break the silence that has surrounded the city. The waves break forth from the steeple, through the gates and rushes over the leaves.

But they are holding back. Crouched and hidden, isolated in corners of the alleys, under boxes and crates. They are clutching the fear that imprisoned them here. The events they witnessed left no trust.

A single candle pierces the darkness.

Finally, one staggers forward. Bare dirty feet and tattered clothes.

At the doorway...arms pull her into an embrace.

Candle goes out, bells go silent.

St. Brigit called only one tonight.

I always welcome feedback to help me grow as a writer.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Empty Spaces

I am linking up with Write on Edge again this week. I love the practice and getting to writing again. I am pushing the deadline and this piece is in need of lots of work....(but here goes)

I went with the photo prompt:

The last of the boxes were finally unpacked. It had taken just a few days..she came with so little. Boxes anyway. But the luggage she carried in her heart would take much longer to unpack.

Carri slumped into the couch. Her eyes searched the room...empty spaces everywhere.
She closed her eyes and lifted her feet. She allowed her ears to tune into the stories beyond her empty walls and down the halls. She listened to the laughter of children. The clanging of pots and pans. The gruff voice and muffled responses. She imagined the walls in their spaces. Photos and plaques. Shelves of collections and trophies. Histories. She yearned for connection. She desired a history she'd want to remember.

From the street below she heard the sound of a lone trumpet. Intrigued she went to the window. Below she saw him. A little disheveled, eyes without life, but from those notes came an emotion she couldn't describe. As he played, the passerbys seemed not to even notice. Carri couldn't understand how they could ignore him...she felt mesmerized and drawn in. It was as if those notes carried hope, and invitation of a future. It wasn't a song she knew or heard before. Yet she felt as if it was for her. As the rhythm changed her body moved into motion. She felt a desire to run and sit with him. She was locked in position by fear, afraid if she left the window he'd disappear. So she stood and stayed with him, there at the window until the dusk rolled in and the stars rolled out. He put his trumpet into its case and walked away into the darkness.

That night she dreamed of the music and of his face. In her dreams, his face was softer and brighter. She could see his eyes more clearly, and they held hope. The music had words...whispered in a smokey tune.  When she awoke she could no longer capture the images or remember the words. But she felt her heart yearn for it. It haunted her daylight hours. She went out and walked the streets, searching faces and hoping to find him in the masses. She listened for the music amidst the traffic and rushing crowds.

Back in her empty space she found herself humming the songs she heard, closed her eyes and captured his face again...and then the trumpet came. She didn't even walk to the window, she opened the door and rushed through the hallways and down the stairs. As she opened the door it was if the city stood still and he was there alone. She slowed her step and walked towards him.

He continued to play, his back to her. She felt as if each note was pulling her closer.

On his late note he turned....and greeted her with a smile. "I've been waiting for you."

As she looked into those eyes, and saw the light...she knew he had been. Destiny had finally found her, connected her.

He lifted the trumpet to his lips...and she stood beside him, singing the words to a song she had never known.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014


Night was settling in. Echoes of the evening songs began to bounce from the trees to the floor of the forest. But she sat.

Silent. Still.

She knew the flashlights would come shortly. The calls would fill the empty spaces. But she would tuck in. Stay hidden from the reality that waited beyond these branches and leaves.

She needed to hide.  She needed to lose herself and believe she hadn’t heard those words today.  She wanted to either leap into the past or fast forward to a distant future. She didn’t want the journey these circumstances placed on her today. Instead, she ran. She ran with fury. She ran as far and deep as she could move.

But the silence was only there on the outside. Inside she screamed. Inside the words shouted and condemned her. 

Cancer. Tumor. Chemo. Radiation.  They repeated and bounced from her heart, to her stomach and to her head swarming like bees.

In the dark she settled to her knees. She collapsed and lifted the dirt into her hands. A shift took place in her veins, like the path that meandered in front of her. She clutched the soil and dropped lower to the ground. The tears began to quench the soil below her. Her scream moved from within her and out to the air. The sobs were muffled with words that tried to spill out. She inhaled deeply, and exhaled with grief. Finally she sprawled to the ground, exhausted from the race away from life and the emotion that pulled her down.

On her back, she stared into the darkness. The questions seem to be etched there into the sky. How can she fight this? Where would her strength come from?  But over, and over…why? Why?

She searched the stars for answers. She listened to the wind and the voices of night to see if they would whisper the answers that she needed to hear.

But the only sound breaking the silence was her heartbeat. The rhythm of it calmed her. A peace seemed to reach from every direction and wrap itself around her. The pounding of her heart carried with it a fight, a resolve. She wouldn’t surrender, she would meet this battle with a vengeance. She would grasp her fingers around faith.

As if on cue came the voices and lights, revealing the soldiers of love that would surround her and march beside in her in this battle. Their arms carried her and she let go and allowed it.

From behind her she heard a chorus from the sounds of night, “Fight, fight, fight.”
I am linking up with Write on Edge this week. My prompt is the photo above.  It has been a while and I am feeling quite rusty! I do love feedback though.