tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76896396765703863202024-03-21T05:22:57.813-07:00Blood Red Turpentinecr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.comBlogger165125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-62399543612936870672023-03-04T11:54:00.001-08:002023-03-04T11:54:03.009-08:00 Dedication <p><i>(3rd place in my group, 2nd round NYC 250-word fiction challenge, March 2023)</i></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-c2034084-7fff-14d7-1bb7-47301fd1fdfd"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Waiting for the water to boil.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She likes mint leaves mangled, steeped five minutes, three drops of honey, a squeeze of lime. She calls it her “hot mojito.”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I drop a regular King Cole bag in my mug. I was never a tea person before the pandemic, but now I crave tea’s soothing warmth, the bland milky comfort of it. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The afternoon sun outlines her profile, the curve of her throat. She stares at her laptop, lost in sentence creation, searching for the right words to draw out the awkward laugh, the tears. I put the tea in its place, on the coaster just northeast of her mousepad. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Inspiration cracks through, and she types soft staccatos. Then she lifts the mug, blows across it, lips like a kiss. My stomach twists. “Heavenly. Thank you, Helen.”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Six months of torture. Would it be worse to never see her? I have wrestled with this.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The book is finished. So I won’t need you anymore.”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When she isn’t writing, she doesn’t need a tea maker or assistant. I blink. My throat closes.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her warm hand pulls me around so I am draped over her shoulder. She breathes mint and points at the screen. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Read the dedication,” she says and as I do, she pulls my arms tight around her and rests her head on my shoulder. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“To she who should know better than to get involved with a writer,” it says.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“She does know better,” I murmur, hiding my joy in her neck. </span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-75064277099447190562022-03-02T11:39:00.001-08:002022-03-02T11:39:57.720-08:00Glimpsing mom<p>Nightstand: a Bible,</p><p>A cherished hand-written card,</p><p>A spare lighter to inhale <br />the first smoke of the day<br />face the slop-eyed sweaty man, slurring, stumbling</p><p>Tucked behind the Bible, <br /><i>The Happy Hooker</i>. Dog eared. </p><p>Inside, a girl smirks at her GI in black and white, one breast bared. </p>cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-69686373646058333842022-02-07T06:32:00.004-08:002022-02-07T06:32:30.938-08:00Testing Time<p> Written for Globe Soup. Prompt: Location - tachinomiya</p><p><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">Testing Time</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Teleportation is hard. It requires you to send your mind ahead, and then pull your body through along the thin connecting thread of your lingering consciousness. You need to plan your place of arrival (not inside something, or in front of a speeding train, for example) and you need to rely on your body’s desire to remain intact as a unit. It has to do with particle physics and the action of the fermions, ideally while you distract the Pauli exclusion principle with a foot massage and maybe a generous gin and tonic. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Make it teleportation with time travel, and suddenly you have to bribe a whole other set of natural laws. Add in being drunk, and it’s getting into near impossible level. For one thing, your body’s cohesiveness is not a given. Jim Kunyato arrived at the tiki bar, which was only our second stop, missing the fingertips of his left hand and an exasperated Professor Glauto had to put him back together before sternly sending him home with a D. I don’t think Jim had ever had alcohol before tonight.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You might think a pub crawl is a pretty cool idea for a final exam. That is, you might think this if and</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> only </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">if you have never taken Advanced Teleportation with Professor Glauto. You only get an A+ if you make it to the final stop, which is an obscure underground club in Germany. In the 25 year history of the course, only two students have done it, and one is now the Dean.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ten years ago, Glauto lost five students into a whirlpool in the Pacific because they overshot the fourth stop. Insurance agents appeared at the school and muttered darkly about risk rate increases. Since then, Glauto has allowed students to work in partners. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">We are at the B- level now, my partner Reika and I, still standing, carefully sipping our Guinness in the Dublin pub and planning our leap to the next stop, in Tokyo. If we manage it, we will be in an early 80s tachinomiya in Tokyo. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Bottoms up, everyone!” hollers Glautto, and then he blows the whistle. We are standing next to two unwary Trinity students who benefit from our inability to chug. We dump our drinks into theirs and then teleport within five minutes. I check Reika’s figures, for no good reason. She’s twice the math witch I am – literally, since her fox familiar is a computational whiz. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">We clasp hands and focus, build the spot to land in our consciousnesses, and then send our minds there. So far so good. We start pulling our bodies along. Reika mutters, as she realises that in the blink her consciousness has been gone, one of the students has planted his hand on her breast. Reika’s fox sinks her teeth into the frat boy’s ankle before she makes her way to us, following Reika’s trail. As our eyes snap open, the salarymen around us make space without really looking. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Professor Glauto thrusts drinks into our hands as soon as we are substantial. Two young businessmen move aside and gesture an invitation for us to join their table, their skinny ties askew and their eyebrows waggling. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Tetsuo Imazawa,” says the first one, pointing at himself. And then, “Hidehiro Fujiwara,” pointing at his companion. Between them is a paper bearing rough sketches. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Reika introduces herself and says, “Gretchen,” pointing to me. I incline my head. Fujiwara-san asks where we are from. When Reika leans in and whispers “the FUTURE!” I realise my partner is hammered. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Imazawa-san apparently understands English because he stares at Reika, agape. Her blue fox has slunk up and around her neck and now looks like a scarf. They chat a few minutes in animated Japanese. I wish I had fared better in Modern Translation. At the next table I see a distracted suited man making notes in code, as in computer code. Assembly to be exact. At least that is a language I recognize. This tachinomiya must be near some video game offices. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Suddenly, Imazawa starts scribbling wildly with the pencil, looking up at Reika as if for reference. I look across the table and recognize he is drawing her. He is chattering to Fujiwara much too quickly for me to pick up what he is saying but he keeps repeating what sounds like “he-CAN”. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Reika giggles into her hand and tosses back her drink. The whistle blows and I scramble to get the coordinates established for the St. Petersburg vodka bar that is next. As we start to vanish, the fox mutters to Reika, “Time Gal? Really? You couldn’t resist?”</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Reika shrugs. “I always wanted to be in a video game!”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;">Eurotrash disco decor greets us and we toast our minimum B+ grade.</span></p>cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-45497207738112361662022-02-07T06:26:00.005-08:002023-03-04T12:03:40.750-08:00Cultural Inappropriation<i>Written to the prompt "Scotch / Scottish / Scotland"</i><div><br /></div><div>One thing about white privilege that no one talked about, thought Midge, was the way you felt rootless. What was her culture? Greek and Roman culture? Elementary school mythology, history full of galloping white saviours? More like mayonnaise, Sesame Street, boiled peas, Tommy Hunter.</div><div><br />Her parents had been children in the Great Depression and so she saved twist ties, elastics and pop tabs compulsively. But she herself was Gen X, apparently, a late surprise to her mother who had expected menopause. Was her culture set in time? Memories of disco, the Berlin Wall falling, Curt Cobain dying?</div><div><br />Or maybe her legacy was family lore: a baked bean recipe, a few funny catch phrases, an internal belief that her family were storytellers, despite none of them being writers except her one cousin that wrote romance novels. (Which hardly counts, Midge thought uncharitably as she filed another half-novel into the graveyard of writing in her Google Drive.)</div><div><br />None of this compared to the rich culture of her friend Darren, whose Mi’kmaq family had invited her to a Powwow. She had been enchanted with the jingle skirts, awed by the smudging, and irrationally jealous of the mantle of separateness, difference that they wore.</div><div> <br />She knew that this was in spite of it all; that this culture had persisted like rhizomes, had grown like a callous in reaction to the horrible actions of white people who had come before her. Kidnapping children, ripping them from their homes and telling them they were subhuman; starlight tours, a ghastly tradition of dumping vulnerable men into a frozen landscape to die; thousands of women and children just gone. Murder, cruelty, genocide.</div><div> <br />Was that the whole of her heritage? Terror, horror, blood, conquest? Better to be rootless.</div><div> <br />Still, she was curious, so she spit into the vial, mailed it off, crossed her fingers that she wasn’t selling her genetic information to a Marvel supervillain.</div><div><br />Two months later, when she wasn’t expecting it, the results arrived. 53% Scotland/Ireland, she read with wonder. She’d always been told her last name was from French, so this was curious. 35% UK. 7% Finland. 5% southern Europe.</div><div> <br />Mayonnaise indeed. It didn’t get whiter. Of course, her own fishbelly-pale arms told her this tale, but now it was backed by science. Still… Scotland/Ireland eh?</div><div> <br />A month later the system was ‘refined’ according to the website. 52% Scottish. 22% Irish. 14% UK.<br />She impulsively logged onto Amazon and bought a plaid skirt.</div><div> <br />The next day, she set out on a quest for haggis but even the European grocer told her to wait for Robbie Burns day. January 25 was a bit of a wait. A few days later Midge, enjoying the late autumn warmth in her new skirt, took a new tack. She headed to the liquor store.</div><div><br /></div><div>SCOTCH! Of course. Scotch whisky?, the pert missus at the liquor store asked.</div><div> <br />That’s right, lassie, muttered Midge. What kind though?</div><div> <br />She was aghast at the prices. She’d thought the Scots were supposed to be frugal! Also, she was pretty sure she could not pronounce most of these… Laphroaig? Aberfeldy? Glenfiddich? Cutty Sark seemed easy enough, but would she look like a non-Scot chump buying the cheapest one? And wait, didn’t <i>cutty sark </i>mean lice shirt? (She was pretty sure this was a fact, having gleaned it from an L.M. Montgomery story. Montgomery, after all, was as Scottish a name as they came.)</div><div><br />She settled on Bowmore, which seemed pronounceable and still within a reasonable price (whatever reasonable was).</div><div> <br />Arriving home, she pulled out what her research told her was the right sort of glass for enjoying one’s Scotch whisky. <br /><br /></div><div>She had asked someone on Twitter about mix, but was told curtly that one does not mix proper whisky, so there you go. She dumped in about an inch and then remembered a mystery novel mentioning “two fingers”...she stacked her fingers and eyeballed the glass, then added a bit more. She had no ice, but that was fine, from what she had read.</div><div><br />She picked up the glass and saluted herself, letting the light from her window filter through the amber liquid. “Here’s ta knowin’ yer people!” She didn’t quite feel up to attempting a Gaelic toast yet.</div><div> <br />She tipped the glass back and swallowed a mouthful. In her mouth was a warm, grainy, cardboard taste and in her throat was a hot fire. She coughed for a minute, and managed to croak “smoooth” like a character in a 1980s sitcom.</div><div> <br />Maybe it tasted better when you were an embittered cop. Or when you were eating haggis. </div><div>Maybe a deep fried Mars bar would be better.</div><div> <br />Sighing, eyeballing the full bottle, she sipped another bit out of her glass. It was an investment in her past. She’d learn to like it.</div><div> <br />Her doorbell rang. Darren stood outside with a bag of Taco Bell.</div><div> <br />“Hey!” she said. “I wasn’t expecting you!”</div><div> <br />“I had a buy one get one burrito coupon,” he replied. “I thought I’d see if you want one.” He glanced at the whisky bottle.</div><div> <br />“Drinking alone?” his eyebrows shot up.</div><div> <br />“Turns out my people are Scottish,” Midge replied airily. “I’m having Scotch.”</div><div><br />“Well, there’s no oatmeal in this burrito,” Darren replied.</div><div> <br />She pulled the bag over. “I love bean burritos so much. Why can’t I be Mexican? Hey, do you want a drink of this stuff? I don’t think I really like it.”</div><div><br />Darren looked at her soberly. “Are you offering me firewater?”</div><div><br />Her face blanched.</div><div><br />“Nah, I’m just shitting you. I bet the third glass will taste better than the first!” He topped up her glass and poured some in a juice glass he pulled from her cupboard. “Here’s to multiethnic meals!” <br />Midge clinked with him. “I’ll drink to that!”<br /></div>cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-435054221265856282021-12-16T05:00:00.005-08:002021-12-16T05:00:56.011-08:00comes in like the fog<div style="text-align: left;"><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tears spill over my cheeks as I stare at the putty-coloured walls. My home, my family, all gone in the fire. My skin will heal, but now I live here, in this dreadful place.</span></span></p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I see something move out of the corner of my eye and hold my breath. They say there’s a cat lives here, but the only people who see it are those about to die. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">An orderly appears and chides me. “Sheila, crying won’t help anyone. Why don’t you go play bingo?”<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Is Alice going to play?”<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I peer across the room to see if my roommate’s eyes are open. She’s slept a lot lately. <br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’ll get your cane.” The orderly leaves. <br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Alice’s hand gestures in the air.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What’re you doing?” I sound shrewish. It happens when you’re old. You lose the nuance of tone. <br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Alice murmurs, “Kitty kitty.”<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">When the orderly returns, I gesture with my chin. “Thinks she sees a cat.”<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The orderly’s eyes widen. She turns and stares a moment at Alice whose eyes have closed again. Her lips look blue.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">She dashes to the door and yells at the desk, “Get the cart! Call Alice’s family.”<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">A nurse brings in a cart and the orderly gets me up. <br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Let’s get you to bingo while Joe helps Alice.”<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">It smells like disinfectant and peas in the hall. As I lean on the rail to walk down the stairs, I hear a purr. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">A small grey tabby sits on the step.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I smile. “Kitty.”</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">------</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Segoe UI Historic, Segoe UI, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Microfiction created for an NYC Midnight challenge</span></span></span></div>cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-34108961317770626372021-10-28T12:01:00.003-07:002021-10-28T12:01:43.426-07:00Cuthbert's Cafe<p><span style="font-size: 12pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Written in response to an NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge, 2021. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">In 1963 Halifax, cafe owner Kerry Cuthbert bears witness to the effects of urban renewal in her neighborhood and worries about her business. Meanwhile, her new young cook, Milton has dreams of challenging his social strata. </span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-8e5fbcb0-7fff-d116-e4ba-bca4dc06820f"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">*****</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Milton!” </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kerry’s sharp eye caught one of her good cornflower blue soup bowls going out the door in the brown hand of her baker. Through the front window she spied a wagging tail. Was that boy feeding the mangy stray dog out of one of her good soup bowls?</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kerry came out from behind the counter, and pulled on Milton’s shoulder. He was kneeling, letting the dog lap water from the bowl. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’m sorry, missus, he was thirsty. He got abandoned when his people moved. Besides, this bowl was chipped, see?”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sure enough, there was a large chip out of the rim. Kerry sighed. “How’d it get chipped, Milton? Those bowls aren’t cheap! You got to take care washing them.” </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It was chipped when it came to the kitchen!” he protested. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She looked out the door, past him, rubbing her forehead. It was early, the sun barely up and the far side of Gottingen was still mostly in shadow. The recently opened library nearby showed a few lights. Time was, this part of the street would have been a little more lively by now. Storekeepers stopping in for a coffee and chat on their way to work. Some of the office girls indulging in a doughnut. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Milton headed back into the kitchen, his slim body pulling in on itself as he passed her. The stray dog snuffled and slunk away up the road. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She gazed after the mongrel, at the jutting empty space up the street. Maisie’s house had been one of the last to come down, and now her friend lived all the way out in Rockingham. They’d barely finished clearing the debris. City Hall said this was part of a bold plan to modernize Halifax. “Public good.” She harboured quiet doubts. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Hello, Kerry!” Edna was waving as she ran across the street from the library. “Can I get a quick cup of tea?” Edna had been ducking over daily for a ‘quick cup of tea’ for the last two weeks. Kerry suspected she was checking on her protege. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sure enough, she peeked behind Kerry, and whispered, “How’s he doing?”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“He’s fine, a real help. Thank you again, for recommending him. Mind you, he was giving the old stray dog water out of one of my good bowls, but he’s doing well otherwise. He’s got some fine hustle, Had the place swept and mopped before I got here this morning.”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh, I’m so glad! I know that boy’s going to go places someday, you watch. He told me when he read about Dr. King’s speech last week, how it made his heart glow to hear parts of it. Said he has a dream too. Asked if I thought he could be an alderman someday. Imagine!”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, I guess that’s something. Might be worth a chipped bowl, even.” </span></p><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Morning, Miss Cuthbert,” a fellow in a hardhat called out as he and another man strolled in and slid into a booth. The work crews were a rough lot, but they were keeping her going. She passed them a menu. “I would love a fried egg sandwich with some ham on it, ma’am. And a good, strong cup of coffee.”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The other man piped up, “Just coffee and a doughnut for me, please.” </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She called the order back to Milton, and he remembered to check white or brown bread. He was cheaper than her last cook had been, for sure, and maybe smarter too. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She brought the workers their coffee and a small jug of cream. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As she rounded the end of the counter, Milton was preparing a fresh pot of coffee and chatting with Edna. Edna slid him a newspaper. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Milton, you’re my kitchen help, you shouldn’t be out here.” Kerry glanced back at the two customers. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Sorry, ma’am, I just wanted to help.” The young boy was bashful. He took the newspaper back into the kitchen. Edna looked at her, worry creasing her brow. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You haven’t gotten any … comments on having Miton here, have you?” Her eyes slid toward the workers. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kerry briskly shook her head, “No, no, there’s been none of that.”</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Grabbing a small plate holding a fresh doughnut, she collected the sandwich offered by Milton, and dropped these at the men’s booth. She topped up their coffee, noting, “Fine weather for working, still, I guess.” </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Sure is, ma’am. I expect it’s going to be noisy hereabouts for a while.” He sounded apologetic. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Dusty too, I imagine,” smiled Kerry. She headed back to the counter where Edna was calling out school-related questions to the kitchen window.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Milton passed her out a dozen fresh muffins, and she filled the display case, passing one to Edna, who picked off small bits and put them into her mouth, savouring each. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What a cook, am I right? I told you!” She closed her eyes and chewed.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Edna added, “Milton told me the word in Africville is that the city is intent on making his folks move. There’s rumours that’s what the housing those fellas are building is for.” </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One of the men had approached the counter to ask for some catsup. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, moving more folks back into the neighborhood would be a blessing, that’s for sure,” said Kerry. “Business could pick up a bit more.” She passed the glass bottle to the man.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Thanks,” he nodded. “I don’t expect the folk moving in those places will be buying meals here. Not a nice respectable place like this.” He nodded.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kerry saw Milton catch her eye through the window to the kitchen.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At 8:45 am, Milton called out that he was heading to school and would be back at lunchtime. She looked out the door to see the stray dog waiting for him. He pulled some crusts from his pocket, probably collected from a returned plate, and gave them to the mutt. The two marched up Gottingen Street, heads held high, as bulldozers roared to life nearby. The wind blew a few leaves loose. Fall was in the air. </span></p><div><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">#northend #africville #stephensonreport</span></div></span>cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-38801288282832486042021-08-06T06:17:00.002-07:002021-08-06T06:17:52.263-07:00This Tide Lifts Us All<p>It was early enough that the dust still glittered in the last rays of sunset through the windows. We picked out a good table, off to the side, sheltered by the bathroom wall. We could stash our stuff in the corner when the time came for dancing, and not worry that some buzzkill would steal our warm jackets. </p><p>Danny was acting weird about his new pants because he thought they were blue-green and I'd made the mistake of calling them turquoise. I hoped that more people would arrive soon to distract him. So far there was only us and what looked like a table of out-of-towners sharing a pitcher. </p><p>"This is like a goddamn library," Danny hissed. It was preternaturally quiet. When the DJ came bustling in smelling like snow and American cigarettes, it made us start. Soon, though, he had tossed on a Cake song and a few more groups had trickled in. </p><p>Audra had insisted we be sure to get here early. She'd come to our apartment at 3 am on mushrooms, crooning about the golden triadic harmonics of the universe and the melting faces in my ficus and promising to be at the show early was the only thing that got her to leave. I wondered if she had slept at all. </p><p>I was keen to see Delmore Leonard again. He was a well-known local musician and his first solo album had seen me through my last break up. I clung to the upbeat, happy music like a spar. I hadn't heard anything about the new album whose release was being celebrated tonight, except the occasional woo from Audra about all the meditation they had done in the studio recording it, and how hypnotic it was. </p><p>The opening band were a trio of chirpy young women wearing bumble bee stripes and singing songs that poured from them like tea from antique pots, honey-sweet and smooth. The music even lightened Danny's mood and he waved over the server to order a Heineken. The server winked when he dropped the beer and waved away Danney's money, putting him in an even better mood. </p><p>The Bee Girls didn't have really danceable melodies, so we remained at the table, swaying and people watching. When Audra dashed over and splashed down next to Danny, it was like someone had suddenly dropped bourbon in our tea... or maybe acid. </p><p>"I am so glad you're here!!"</p><p>"You woke us up in the middle of the night to make sure we were coming." </p><p>She began fiddling with Danny's hair, pushing it against the part. "You are going to be blown away. This album is...." she squeezed her eyes shut in wordless ecstasy. I was mesmerized by her large amber pendant swinging between her breasts. The Bee Girls continued to sugar the air. </p><p>"I've got to go get ready. Come to the front! It will be wild. I promise."</p><p>As she zipped across the room to the stage door I helped Danny settle his hair.</p><p>"Audra's got the crazy eyes... think she's still shroomed up?" Danny asked.</p><p>"Nah, she's got too much energy for straight shrooms I'd say. She is definitely on something!"</p><p>The Bee Girls gathered their mandolins and tambourine and floated off the stage, and Delmore began setting up. A clean stage - three mikes, one for him, and one each for Audra and Joscelyn, the other singer. A percussion section. And that was it. Interesting. </p><p>The servers were circulating with large trays of small glasses. Two of these glasses were dropped to us, with a wink for Danny again, who had by now forgotten all about his pants. </p><p>"What's this?" I asked the server, but he was already gone.</p><p>Danny shrugged at me. "Communion?" </p><p>We sniffed the glasses. I had once had mead at a D & D festival. It kind of smelled like that. Well, the server had brought it, so it probably wasn't roofied. Everyone else was drinking theirs as we looked around so we toasted and sipped some.</p><p>Delmore came to his microphone. "Hey everyone! Enjoy a sweet taste of sunshine, on us!" Everyone held their glasses aloft and we all finished them off. </p><p>"Guess their record company advance is huge," Danny murmured.</p><p>We stashed our stuff in the corner and took our spot in front of the stage between Delmore and Audra as the band took their places. </p><p>Ash was doing percussion with them, a surprise. He caught my eye and smiled, which made me smile. I hadn't seen him in a few weeks and the last time... the memory of his warm breath on my neck caught me by surprise and I felt my pulse all over my body. </p><p>Then the music started. Audra and Joscelyn, both with their long blonde hair flowing down, stood, arms out and began a breathy harmonizing. Delmore, his dark goatee startling under his high cheekbones, joined in with the sounds they were making and then began singing. I realized he was looping the harmonies, so they layered and built. </p><p>One time my friend Heather and I had been body surfing at Lawrencetown Beach, and suddenly the tide had surged deep under us and dragged us both by the feet out toward the open ocean. It took long moments of hard struggle to bring us back to land, and all the while, the ocean pulled and pulled. </p><p>The sound was like that. My conscious mind found its footing gone. I was being pulled into an ocean of mutual awareness, and I wasn't strong enough to stand against the tide. As the music swelled, the lights seemed to change, and move. I was looking at the server behind the bar, who winked at me. I was looking at Joscelyn, somehow from right in front of her, and then I was looking at myself from stage. I was caught in a looping spiral that sent my awareness from person to person in the place. I was in love with a blonde man behind me, and then I was thinking about my sick grandmother; I was zoning on how cool my hand felt entwined with Sarah's, then feeling Mohinder's strong chest behind me, then aware of all of this at once, and looking at the crowd through Delmore's eyes, feeling my breath forming this mystical chord with the other singers. </p><p>What was in that drink?</p><p>The sensation merged into oneness, and for almost a full minute, I was everyone and everyone was me and we were one, and breathing in unison, inhaling joy and sending love into the universe. And then the harmonies ebbed and I found myself retreating, reaching out still for the connection, but then alone, bewildered, in my own head. I was drenched. I clutched Danny's hand, and the hand of the man on my right. None of us let go. In the moment of silence following the song, Audra and Joscelyn clutched their matching pendants, moved to join arms with Delmore. Then Delmore said, </p><p>"This harmonic joining is new, and this is how we can move forward together. My friends, my loves, my others... this is how we were meant to live."</p><p>I couldn't imagine anything more comforting than his voice.</p><p>"We will dance this evening, and join again before we part. But now that you know this is how it can be, I'm asking you to join with us. Follow us. Let us move across this earth and spread this joy."</p><p>Then he started playing another song, and I started dancing. Everyone was dancing, even the servers. Even the bouncers. A small part of my brain thought, the drink will wear off and this will be the best dream-high you have ever had, so be sure to remember it. Another part of my brain thought, you are forever changed. </p><p>After two hours of dancing, hugging strangers, sharing water and just vibing at a continuously joyous level, the band moved into the layered harmonics again, and again, we shared each others' consciousness. This time, I could recognize more of the darker parts of people's minds. The depression, the self-doubt, the anger, that lay under the open, loving area we shared. As we joined, each of us began weaving healing, or maybe planting seeds is the right metaphor. We worked to pull these darker thoughts up, into conscious balance. It is a weird thing to explain in words. We knew that the harmonics worked by mixing different notes, and it was like that, in psychological terms - the more we pulled the dark parts in and blended them as well, the deeper and richer the joining.</p><p>As the last notes ended, we all instinctively came together into a huddle in the middle of the dance floor, touching as many others as we could. When Delmore invited us to join him on the buses he had waiting outside no one hesitated. </p><p>This convoy will now spread out. Each of us will learn to brew the opening mead. Those of us who can sing will learn the joyous harmonics. Some of us will make clothes, some of us will make food. Some of us will drive. I have been charged with finding more amber crystals. We each have a role to play in bringing this world home. When we get to your town, be sure to get to the show early. </p><p>This tide lifts us all. </p>cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-33980186371455797302021-07-25T09:56:00.004-07:002021-07-25T16:37:52.248-07:00Gold, Jerry!<i>So, my microfiction "Devil's Tools" place 9th in my group, meaning I moved on in the NYC Midnight Microfiction contest! YAY! This is the follow up. My assigned genre was comedy, action was buying lottery tickets, and word was "copy". </i><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>***</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><span style="color: #444444;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-89b56dbf-7fff-8e94-3f31-a108a49a485c"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ad copywriters spend our lives chained in the Word Mines, digging for gold. </span></p></span><span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #e4e6eb; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That nugget for our latest idiot client, a lottery?</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></span></p></span><span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: #e4e6eb; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Something VIRAL!" Fool’s </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">gold</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11.5pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.</span></span></p></span><span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jerry and I hunkered down in a sweaty bodega, bought a mittful of scratch tickets, and started panning for inspiration.</span></p></span><span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Scratch Bazingas!…” tried Jerry. </span></p></span><span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You buying more?” asked the hopeful clerk.</span></p></span><span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Scratchmania!” </span></p></span><span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jerry muttered, </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It’s better than working.” </span></p></span><span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“... not bad!”</span></p></span><span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Three anvil icons appeared under my thumbnail. A million dollars? </span></p></span><span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“HOLY SHIT!”</span></p></span><span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No profanity,” sighed Jerry. </span></p></span><span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I hugged him, kissed the clerk. “SEE YA SUCKERS!” </span></p></span><span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I hightailed out. </span></p></span></span><span><p style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jerry lit up: “That’s it!”</span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span></div>cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-34676553839023106432021-06-28T10:14:00.004-07:002021-06-28T10:29:44.544-07:00Unceded<p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Offered with humility to people whose suffering I can't begin to comprehend, whose history I am only just learning, whose ancestors mine harmed and benefited from the harming of.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>**** </i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Unceded
</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">But seeded
</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">With colonizer men building brick homes
</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Raping the land
</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rapeseed, precious naming
</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Blocking, trapping,
</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wrapping the First Peoples in swaths of settlement</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-28b1e021-7fff-8d48-4646-8f8f3cf25f46"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Unceded </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But seeded </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With Bibles flung into the wild,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Relentlessly paced, chased, erased</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(Rendered unchaste by word or deed)</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mother Earth needs become Mother Mary</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jesus Glooscap</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Trickster Lucifer</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Unceded</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But seeded </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With others brought from other lands,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Brought in chains, bonds, ties and obligations,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Come from the South, free but</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cast out. Neglected, detested, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rewarded for loyalty </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With mud and rocks,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sticks and stones.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Unceded </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But seeded</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With “moral” men molding minds</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">with whips, women withholding water and food,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cutting hair, cutting off ties,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cutting out words</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bleaching souls and </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bending knees</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And burying mistakes.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Unceded</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But seeded </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With generations of hate, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Denial, violence and defiling,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Women missing, children dead</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Shrugs and crosses, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Shaking heads</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Praying hands</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Preying beds.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Unceded,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But seeded. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Unseen now seen.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Alienation turned to</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Reconciliation?</span></p><br /></span>cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-74594849451641400072021-05-17T04:23:00.002-07:002021-05-17T16:13:37.525-07:00Reedsy Submissions: Four Lights and Rave On<p>Check out my most recent stories at Reedsy:</p><p><a href="https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/author/charlene-boyce/">https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/author/charlene-boyce/</a></p><p>Rave On is my favourite thing I have written thus far. </p><p><br /></p><p>I had submitted Four Lights, but I chose to remove it to edit a part I was not comfortable with. </p><p>Four Lights is pasted below. </p><p>****</p><h3 style="text-align: left;">Four Lights</h3><p>Genevieve wondered how long it was before the people of Egypt felt okay having parties after all the firstborns died.</p><p>Now that the pandemic had receded sufficiently to allow gatherings of more than 10 people, a party was called for. Or so Iris said, and Iris had a way of making her ideas contagious. This time her idea was to make up for three Halloweens lost to the pandemic in the form of an Ostara gathering.</p><p>"No Ouija board. Crystal ball sure, but I draw the line at Ouija!" </p><p>Iris rolled her eyes. She stashed the board under the tv cabinet and began dumping chips and party mix into various fancy serving bowls she had produced from the attic. </p><p>"Did you dust those?"</p><p>"GEN - A - VIVE!" Iris punched her name out in staccato syllables. "I swear, you think I'm a plebe." Which was a very Iris response in that it didn't at all answer the question.</p><p>Genevieve was arranging her devilled eggs when the doorbell began. People arrived alone or in pairs. They crept in, trying to be inconspicuous. The effects of the long-time gathering limits and the culture of neighborhood-tattletale enforcers were fresh scars.</p><p>Mid-century lounge music swayed through the air.... was that Sammy Davis Jr? It seemed a bizarre contrast to the skulls-and-spiders decor Iris had chosen. Genevieve sighed. No matter how many times she explained Ostara was about balance, fertility and rebirth, Iris clung to this childhood image of witches. Surreptitiously tucking blooming flowers around the skulls and over the spiders, Genevieve made her way from the dining room to welcome the guests. </p><p>Everyone had arrived. Thirteen people and one baby in one room felt uncomfortably crowded. Genevieve had to propel herself forward to embrace her guests, remind herself that it was okay now. Hattie and Han were unusually quiet. Tessa had ridden in with Belle and Zoe and complained vociferously about Zoe's inability to focus on the road. Terry was still sawdusty, hammer slung from his pants. Varain and Syl were in full dashiki splendor. Andrescu looked so tiny in his suit and tie, hunched over his snake-carved cane. Lola and Jim bounced little Feria, their pandemic baby, the first in the coven. </p><p>Iris jumped up, eyes sparkling. "Let's light the candles and prepare the space!" </p><p>Genevieve caught Tessa's eyes rolling and repressed a smile. Iris was new to the craft and so bloody eager. Everyone was looking forward to a simple catch up visit... Iris wanted pomp, and circumstance, and action.</p><p>"Let's let folks catch their breath first, hm?"</p><p>Genevieve set Iris to getting cocktails while she prepared tea for Andrescu, Lola and Tessa. Conversations started rippling across the room, nearly always prefaced with, "I feel like I haven't done anything worth talking about..." </p><p>Pent-up emotions spilled out. The pandemic had marked each. Belle and Zoe had wound up dog-sitting six large animals when three different neighbors went into hospital. They acted out various mishaps the giant beasts had caused. Varain and Syl had had to move after their landlord died. Sparks nearly flew from Syl as she described trying to pack and move with three day's notice during lockdown. </p><p>Tessa had been forced to work six to seven days a week as nursing home staff quit. Her hips killed her, she sighed, but she had lost ten pounds!</p><p>Gentle Hattie, gray faced and fragile, had lost three aunts, her daughter and her mother in the Forest Acres outbreak just two months into the pandemic. Her voice quavered as she spoke her daughter Tamsyn's name. Han held her hand and hovered protectively.</p><p>Two hours later, the table was emptied of hummus, cheeses, eggs and chips, and the guests were emptied of stories. Everyone had heard about Tamsyn's final gasping breaths. Belle and Zoe had shared several recipes for fermenting things, and Feria had cooed, cried and pooped. Now Feria napped and the adults gathered at the table with a bit more solemnity. Iris tossed salt at the cardinal points, butterflied around the room with smoking sage.</p><p>Genevieve appeared with straws to choose the order of invocation. Iris laughed outright at this old-fashioned tradition, ready to somehow employ a random number generator, but Genevieve overrode her. With the four blessing openers chosen, they entered the circle.</p><p>Varain lighted the first candle, his dark fingers snapping the match alight. He smiled at Syl warmly. "A light for our love."</p><p>Andrescu lit the second, his wrinkled brow creased with focus. "A light for our path into the future." He softly patted Feria's head.</p><p>Iris had been chosen for third, which made Genevieve worry a little, but hers was not bad: "A light for the joy of being alive." </p><p>Hattie was last. "A light..." she paused and tears rolled over her cheeks. Genevieve longed to squeeze her hand, but she was across the table. "A light for the DEAD." </p><p>The last candle flared impossibly high, and the music cut off mid-note. </p><p>Iris shrieked, jumped to her feet. </p><p>"WE ARE HERE," her mouth shaped, and her voice sounded like a hellish choir. Wind filled the room but the candles did not blow out. Everyone froze... everyone except Andrescu. </p><p>He rose from his seat, hands aloft, emanating power. His wrinkled hands worked furiously, tracing runes the rest were too young to remember. His 91 years now felt not like frailty, more like deep strength.</p><p>"I place my hold upon you!" he boomed, in a deep, loud voice. "Who comes to our summons, and what do you bring?"</p><p>Genevieve felt faint. She was not prepared for this. Goddess knows how long it was since this sort of thing had happened. Not in her 12 years with this coven, for sure. Thanks be to the good powers that they had Andrescu!</p><p>Iris stood very erect, stared, unblinking, still. </p><p>"We who were lost at Forest Acres are come. Why were we invoked? Who are you to summon us?"</p><p>Hattie rose as if levitated. "Mother. I know you are there, I have felt you with me. It's Hattie."</p><p>Iris's face seemed to gently age, and her voice was now single. "Hattie, my love. You must let me go. I travel with all and they are not harmless. Release me. I love you."</p><p>Andrescu kept his hand aimed at Iris but turned his eyes to Hattie. "You are dragging these souls here. Hattie. You must let them go." </p><p>Hattie was flushed. "Mom? Is Tamsyn there? Tamsyn?" </p><p>Iris's voice was higher now. "Mother. I am so strong now. I can walk. I can run!" Iris hopped in place, seeming about to fly off.</p><p>"Tamsyn, my darling. Forgive me. The hospital had no space. I had no choice but to send you to Forest Acres."</p><p>"Mother!" Impatient now. Iris's foot stomped. "I am happier now! Father, help her understand!" She paused. </p><p>"Wait. That isn't... you aren't guilty about that." She paused. Iris's blank eyes bore into Hattie who sunk back into her seat.</p><p>"That's not it at all, is it?"</p><p>Hattie cried softly "No, no no no no..."</p><p>Iris glided around Varain and Syl to Hattie's side, as Han tried to insert himself.</p><p>She looked into his eyes and her own widened. "You are not my father." </p><p>Terry pushed away from the table at this. "You said--!" he blurted at Hattie, but Tamsyn-who-was continued, "But that isn't it, either is it, mother?"</p><p>"Tell them. Tell Grandmother and her sisters why they died. Tell them."</p><p>Hattie clutched Iris' hand, crying. </p><p>"I was the carrier, wasn't I, mother? And you knew. I was sick when I went in... sick with the virus. And you sent me to a home full of old, susceptible people. YOU KNEW!"</p><p>Andrescu visibly paled. One of his oldest friends had died at Forest Acres. </p><p>"Hattie, can this be so?"</p><p>Hattie wailed, ripped at her clothes. "I thought that she would be safer there! They could treat her!" </p><p>Han had backed up. "Hattie...."</p><p>"I didn't think it would spread so fast! Mother, Aunties, forgive me!"</p><p>Iris shrieked again, with the chorus of voices, as wind rushed through the room. The candles blew out then. Iris fell back into a chair. </p><p>Genevieve rushed to her side, felt her pulse. Belle and Zoe brought a cool cloth, while Han and Terry held a quiet, intense conversation. Jim checked on Hattie, who had fallen unconscious. Lola rocked Feria. Varain and Syl helped Andrescu to the sofa. Tessa brought a pitcher of exceptionally strong mojitos and everyone had a shot.</p><p>Iris eventually became coherent and was upset she remembered nothing. </p><p>It was midnight, and as the clock "bonged" its first stroke, Andrescu rose and strode across the room to Hattie. With a voice not his own, he said, "Heather, my child. You are forgiven."</p><p>Hattie was wonderstruck.</p><p>"Ostara blesses you. This is the time for renewal." He took Han's hand and placed it on Hattie's, pressing them together.</p><p>"New beginnings." </p><p>And Hattie, forty-five years old, touched her swelling belly in wonder. </p>cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-40690284364186983572021-05-17T04:10:00.004-07:002021-05-22T07:55:21.647-07:00Devil's Tools<p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nothing comes back from Lavery Road but the wind. Folks talk hushed about old Ma Lavery.
</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Older’n dirt.
</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Meaner’n badgers.
</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Family all gone.
</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Fever? I ask. Nope. Disappeared. </span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-9ac383a8-7fff-b2ad-ac6e-91a0493e68b4"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pastor says visitin’s a Christian duty. He don’t, but I oughta.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rotten apple doll rockin’ on the porch, shufflin’ cards.
</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Playin’ cards is Devil’s tools.” </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Shiny black bean eyes. Clawed hand pokes out.
</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Cut.” Shakes the deck. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Afeared, I snatch a hot handful. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Queen,” she wheezes. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Miz Lavery…”
Card’s gettin' hotter. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ma laughs. Winks at the queen of diamonds. I stare back, burnin’, trapped. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She fans the cards, checkin’ the family. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Shuffles. </span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">****</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Written for the 100-word Microfiction Competition, NYCMidnight, May 2021.</span></div></span>cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-19202797283231698342021-02-15T10:11:00.001-08:002021-02-15T10:11:22.188-08:00Nothing to Fear But<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Nothing
to Fear But</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><i>Teddy
is learning that working as a washroom attendant is an opportunity to face his
fears. And then a man dies in his washroom and Teddy has to help his killer escape.</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Written for NYC Midnight Short Story Competition, January 2021. Prompts were:</span><p></p><p><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Genre: Thriller Character: Washroom Attendant Theme: Fear of Heights.<br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" />
</span>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p>* * * * * * </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Cold sweat slid down the back of Teddy's pants. Knees almost
level with his eyes, he was too tightly wedged to take a deep breath. He
listened to a toilet flush, breathing shallowly as legs strobed past the grate
and out the bathroom door. Didn’t stop to wash his hands. Teddy couldn't spare
a thought to the germs because the dark, tight walls were crushing him. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What was Uncle Burns thinking when he got his anxious nephew
this job?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He unclasped his hands and forced himself to stretch his
left hand. Felt the cool beads against his wrist with his clammy palm. Drew a
ragged breath. “I am calm. I am in control,” he muttered, sliding from bead to
bead. “This is fine. I can breath.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">BEEP! He started, banging his head. Felt his heart crash
against his quadriceps. Three minutes. He could get out. Dr. Hasslebeck would
be happy. Exposure therapy -- day 12. Done. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Time to get back to the serious business of inhaling fecal
germs and handing out towels to men who never touched soap or water. He
shuddered, but was calmer as he started to pop the duct cover open while the
washroom was empty.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Whoops, damn. Two men entered the room, one following the
other. It was awkward to crawl out with others there. His heartbeat ramped up.
Trapped. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He felt his ears stretch, listening. One man was mumbling,
in a gravelly voice. The other was silent. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He clutched his bracelet, focussed on counting his exhales,
listening, praying it was two quick number ones. TALK AT THE TABLES, he
silently screamed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mumbles was getting louder. "I done the job, Gerry.
That bitch is dead. No more senator, no more gun law. I done it for you. Cuz
you asked me to." The ingratiating boastful voice dropped to a confiding
tone. "Cuz you said you would PAY me. Where’s my money Gerry?" A
clicking he recognized from movies.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy tried holding his ragged breath to be silent. Did
Mumbles just cock a gun? His companion uttered a soothing sound. Suddenly --
Stomp. Smack. Clunk, skree! Outside his vent he saw a glint of metal. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mumbles, you suck at this, thought Teddy. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then, a crunch. A wet thump. A calm voice.
"Idiot." <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy glimpsed glazed eyes, head at a weird angle. Clamped
both his hands to his mouth to stifle a whimper. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The other man stooped to grab the gun and paused. He was
facing the duct cover. One corner was popped out… would he notice? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He turned slightly, still crouched. Teddy remembered his
uniform jacket was crumpled outside the duct. Felt sick. He squeezed his eyes
shut, praying. Risked a peek, willing his head not to move. A rugged face a
foot from the vent. Could he see Teddy? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy saw his jacket rise and slowly exhaled. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Now, where are you?" The man had a clipped
accent. Sounded like Bond.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Listening as the steps moved away, Teddy swallowed hard and
glanced down the gloomy duct. As the farthest stall door was pushed open, Teddy
wiggled and slid sideways until he was belly-down and started pushing through
the duct into the close dark. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He softly breathed, “I can do this, I can do this, I can do
this. There is nothing in the dark. I have lots of air.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">His foot slipped, lost purchase and kicked out behind him. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">CLANG. The duct cover loudly popped off. Teddy scrambled,
and screamed as a hand grabbed his ankle.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As he was pulled to the bathroom floor, a finger in his
face: “Shut up.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy was a drenched noodle, a lanky teen in ill-fitting
uniform pants and a Pokemon t-shirt, cowering on the floor clutching a beaded
bracelet.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The man was tall, wearing a very expensive looking suit. He
may have sounded like Bond, but he looked like a villain: dark slicked hair,
crooked nose. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He wasn’t pointing a gun, but his stern look was frightening
enough. “What did you hear?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“NOTHINGNOTHINGIHEARDNOTHING.” It came out sounding
hysterical.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The man sighed. Pulled a roll of duct tape from somewhere in
his jacket.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy gulped.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I’m going to tape your mouth so you can’t make noise. You
need to calm down and breathe through your nose.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy stared, ducked his chin.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“It’s your lucky day. I need a helper. You’re going to help
me clean this up.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The tape went over the sweaty skin around his mouth and for
a moment Teddy panicked, feeling the claustrophobia again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Put your jacket on.” Thrusting the garment at Teddy.
Pulling his sleeves on, he resisted picking at the tape.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The man hoisted the body to a semi-standing position, held
him under the shoulder like a sloppy drunk. “Wipe up the floor. Good. Wipe down
the knobs. Now open the door. I locked it, so you’ll have to pull the shim
out.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy was drawing ragged nasal breaths. He tugged at the
piece of wood holding the door closed. The man reached past him and pulled it
out.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Open the door and check the hall.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy peeked out, knowing that it was unlikely they would
see anyone. On nights without shows, this part of the Casino was quiet. He saw
more solo number twos and fewer tips. He nodded over his shoulder, not meeting
the man’s eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Good lad. Walk out to the left and then get on the other
side of this fellow and help me carry him.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy shrank from touching the dead body, wondering about
fluids expelled at death and other gruesome details. They were headed to the
far elevators, the ones that led to the roof and the penthouse.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Do you have elevator keys?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy shook his head slightly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Ted! You abandoning your post?” A voice behind them -- his
uncle the security guard. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">From the corner of Teddy’s eye, he saw the man give him a
tiny headshake. Then the man spoke calmly over his shoulder, “The boy is
helping us. My friend has had entirely too much to drink I’m afraid.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">His uncle chuckled, approaching. “Ted ain’t strong enough to
carry a tune. Here, let me help.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy winced as Uncle Burns reached for the limp arm across
his nephew’s shoulders. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The body slid away and with a neat pivot, the suited man
clubbed Burns with the gun butt. The guard slumped to the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hefting the body over his shoulder, the man barked, “Let’s
go, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ted</i>.” The gun was in his hand.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy scrambled to the elevators. Then he realized which
elevator he was entering.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The roof.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The helipad.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">40 stories in the air.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Suddenly he couldn’t breathe. The man tugged him inside and
he slumped to the floor as the man punched the button.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“‘Ain’t strong enough to carry a tune.’” The stranger
half-smiled, not looking at Teddy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As the door slid open, the suited man pulled out the dead
body and shaking teen.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A small helicopter was sitting on the pad.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy was hyperventilating. The duct tape that had only had
minor purchase on his slick skin slid off the left side of his mouth. He barely
noticed. He dropped, curling into a fetal position.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The wind whipped his jacket as he lay on the roof.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The man knelt beside him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Ted. Ted. I don’t want to kill you. Do you understand me?”
Teddy nodded an inch. “I have a code. This man,” he thumped the body’s thin
chest, “he did bad things. He had to die.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy stared at him. Did bad things because you were going
to pay him! He said nothing, as he tried to stop hyperventilating.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Ted, I need your help. There is an open dumpster over
there.” He pointed to the side of the roof he was facing. “I need you to help
me throw this man into it.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy wondered when his heart would actually stop. It should
be soon.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I will hurt you if I have to. But I don’t want to. So don’t
make me do it. Alright? Get up.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The man pulled him to his feet. “Call me Mr. George. Do you
understand me Ted?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As the man ripped the dangling duct tape off, Ted croaked,
“M…Mr. George.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Very good. Do you understand what we are doing?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I c - can’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">An eyebrow cocked.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“It it’s h-h-heights. I … ca..”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Ted. Ted.” Putting a kindly crushing hand on his shoulder.
“I believe in you.” Patted him. “Grab the feet.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The dead man had a short, wiry build. He probably only
weighed twenty pounds more than Teddy. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The man grasped the body under the arms, waited for Teddy to
get a hold, and pulled them all toward the edge. Tears filled Teddy’s eyes. He
imagined the sensation of falling. Kept trying to lift the man’s feet, trying
to stay far away from the edge.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At two feet from the edge, Ted was hyperventilating again,
and felt like he might pass out.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Okay, Ted, here’s the thing. We need to swing him over the
edge. The dumpster is out from the edge of the building. There are balconies on
the side. We can’t have him land on a balcony. Do you understand me?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy tried to imagine standing at the edge of the roof, the
weight of the swinging body pulling him back and forth, toppling over the edge.
He fainted.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mr. George drew a deep breath. Cracked his knuckles.
Stretched his neck. Paced back and forth sharply once. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then he slapped Teddy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Stand up, Ted. Wait, first, take this.” Handed him a pill
he pulled from his pocket.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ted stared at it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“It’s Ativan, it’s fine.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I know, I know what Ativan is.” Maybe the man was a friend
after all. He slid the pill under his tongue.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Come with me.” He grasped Teddy’s arm and pulled him to the
edge of the roof.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ted felt a plunging sensation, like he was plummeting to his
death. His head swam. The tops of the awnings at street level looked tiny. He
imagined his body flapping through the air, ripping right through an awning.
His stomach swam.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“You are fine. I am fine. Look at me. We are going to carry
the body to here,” he scratched a line about six inches from the edge, “Give it
a heave and let it go. I need to get moving. We’re going to do this now.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He dragged Teddy back to the body.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ted picked up the man’s feet and took a deep breath. He
looked at the man’s pocket where the gun bulged.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Throw the body, then I can go inside ?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The man grunted.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Forcing himself to breathe slower, Teddy focused on lifting
the body. Focused on the ground. Approached the edge, resolutely ignoring it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Now. Swing. Count of” - he squinted at Ted – “uh, two.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Focused on swinging. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“And a ONE. And a TWO-- HUP!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As soon as the body left his hands he backed up two feet
from the edge.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The body flopped gracelessly over the edge. Ted was sure
they had missed the dumpster. He felt exhausted and limp, like all adrenaline
had left his system, taking his bones with it. He almost fainted again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Mr. George put his arm across Ted’s shoulders, shepherding
him back from the edge. Ted almost smiled as he got closer to the elevator, but
then he realized the man was pulling him on, towards the helicopter.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“No no no NO NO NO!” Ted screamed. He tried to struggle
free.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The elevator lights were starting to ascend. This time Mr.
George had had enough. A gentle rap with the gun butt, and he tossed Ted into
the helicopter. Got it started as security flooded out of the sliding doors. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He yelled, “I HAVE A HOSTAGE,” pointing to Ted’s slumped
body. Burns, holding a towel to his head, waved at his colleagues. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The tiny helicopter lifted off.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Teddy groggily lifted his head, saw the roof slope away,
then slide out from under them. He looked down. Traffic was a herd of beetles
miles below.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">His heart fluttered at the top of his chest like a bird in
snare. He tried to take a deep breath, found himself shrieking as he looked
wildly around for something to cling to.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He pulled on the seatbelt, was unable to clip it. Clutching
it tightly, he touched his bracelet, trying to rein in his panic. He sat,
frozen, mumbling affirmations.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Finally the Ativan started to soften the edge of his
hysteria. He thought about asking for another one, rejected it as he imagined
falling asleep and sliding out of the chopper somehow.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The man noticed Ted’s calmer demeanor. Gave him a thumbs up.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ted smiled, yelled, “Thanks for the pill.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Settled into the relaxed feeling. Looking at
the distant horizon wasn’t horrible.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I’m curious, why were you hiding you in that duct?” The man
yelled over the engine.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I was getting used to it, to fight my claustrophobia.” The
man nodded as if this was an entirely normal thing. “Hey, maybe this will help
my fear of heights!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Police cars massed below them. A police helicopter was
droning in the distance.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Maybe so. We may need to do some fancy flying, Ted. I
planned to land under the bridge, but that may not be an option.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I hope Uncle Burns is okay. He got me the job.” The Ativan
was working with the adrenalin aftermath to make Ted chatty. “Three weeks ago.
I got locked in the second night. It was pretty freaky. Who knew being a
bathroom attendant was so dangerous?” Ted nodded to himself sagely. Laughed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Say, who was that guy you wasted?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Don’t ask me questions.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Okay, Mr. Gerry.” Teddy was getting sleepy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The man’s head whipped around.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“What did you call me?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ted’s eyes popped opened as he realized his error.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They were nearing the bridge. Gerry suddenly banked hard.
Ted, unbuckled, slid sideways.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“I’m sorry, kid. I wish you hadn’t said that.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ted realized that Gerry was reaching for the gun. He pushed
back, hard. Kicked out wildly and hit a switch. Felt the helicopter sputter. It
began sliding from the sky. With the Ativan feeling like a cushion around his
flaming centre of panic, Ted clawed behind him, tugging at the door. As they
hit the water, he felt his beads spill off his wrist and the door wrenched
open. The water rose up, and he kicked out of the vehicle. He blacked out.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He came to hearing someone saying his name. Uncle Burns. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Ted! He’s coming to!” A policeman who had been
administering first aid stopped and leaned back.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Ted, you okay?” his uncle’s voice was anxious. “Your mom’s
gonna shoot me. I spose you’ll never leave your room again after this?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The boat rocked gently in the lapping water and he felt
adrift in the soft embrace of the Ativan. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ted answered, dreamy, “Uncle Burns, it’s okay! I think… I’m
not afraid of anything now!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He rested another moment, then turned to the officer. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“Do you happen to have any sanitizer?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-81364731013200333272021-01-24T12:54:00.003-08:002021-01-26T15:27:56.319-08:00Manifesto: Our Revolution Must Be Irresistible<p><i> <span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">(With apologies and gratitude to Gil Scot-Heron and Loretta Ross)</span></i></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-6070a054-7fff-6412-ec05-97d63a53ef08"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In America the revolution was televised</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was monetized</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All our devices blinking in bewilderment,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All our eyes blinking in wonderment,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All stock markets crawling over the walls of government. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Two theories A/B tested in the world:</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Right and left. Right and wrong. Rite and logic. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Which motivation </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Finds the solution:</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Fear and Love. Love and Fear.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Fear </span></p><ul style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-inline-start: 48px;"><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of losing power</span></p></li><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of The Other, those people, can I speak to your manager about them please?</span></p></li><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of communist central world government trying to take our guns our women our libber tea</span></p></li><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of being constrained restrained having to follow laws that get up our noses and into our bizness</span></p></li><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of, if everyone is equal how am I special? </span></p></li></ul><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Love </span></p><ul style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-inline-start: 48px;"><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of whiteness </span></p></li><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of rightness</span></p></li><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of the lightness of being the almighty individual taming the wilderness, civilizing the savages and winning the bread. </span></p></li></ul><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">OR</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Love -</span></p><ul style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-inline-start: 48px;"><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of mankind, womankind, gender-neutral kind, all the kinds, being kind</span></p></li><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of glorious rainbows, suspicious spectrum of uncanny colour mixing and blending together until who even knows where one starts and one stops?</span></p></li><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of trees, lakes, oceans, fish, fowl and beast, of land (i mean, don’t they even know about the gold in those hills?)</span></p></li><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of even the opposite others (not sheeples!) who have had their sadness and need weaponized through manipulation misinformation meanness </span></p></li></ul><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Fear - </span></p><ul style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-inline-start: 48px;"><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of climate change and species extinction, ice caps melting and seas dying</span></p></li><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of homicidal righteous anger wrapped in flags and uniforms and coded tattoos</span></p></li><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of losing rights, losing presence, pleasantness disappearing into a vacuum of frontier face offs and every man for himself (women and children first!)</span></p></li><li aria-level="1" dir="ltr" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><p dir="ltr" role="presentation" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of fratricide, obliteration, genocide, annihilation</span></p></li></ul><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Are we on the eve of destruction? </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The secret Kryptonite of the left: </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Recognizing that we have met the enemy and they is us. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 36pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There but for the grace of God</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 36pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Heaven knows we don’t believe in corporal punishment, never could bring myself to meet violence with violence. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They think we tear babies from our wombs with our manicured hands, tear-lessly,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When we know the gravity of choices we make, </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Know our systems might inject death into an innocent person because of a </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">DNA typo</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Know that means letting child murderers live.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We live with those stones in our breasts.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We still try to model peace. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Do we have time for tolerance paradoxes? </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We have already fought this war</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 36pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(so many wars over “state’s rights” and oil rights and the rights of other countries and peoples to make choices we don’t agree with, so few wars to stop apartheid, political prisoners abused, public beheadings, genocide )</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What if the kind of dispersed global network of ideals that we seek becomes their tool? </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So many people chasing the end of the world as if it isn’t at the door already. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Is the solution motivation? </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Their loud flashing hate and anger that boils hot and explodes</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Our love can’t stay soft. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Not even tough love. FIERCE love. Burning love. Evangelical love. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We must stuff our hearts and our guns with glitter and blast everything to shattered shards of glory. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We must radiate the joy that can be ours, MUST be ours,</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">right now, in this anxious and fraught time. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We must be the beautiful terrible frolickers following Pan, bringing green life and wonder to all parts of the world. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Our revolution must be irresistible </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It may be televised </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It will need not be monetized</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Our joy will be shared from each according to ability to each according to need.</span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-61870592886896765632020-09-14T11:24:00.001-07:002020-09-14T11:24:32.724-07:00Honey Sweetheart<p><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Written for the NYC FlashFiction Challenge, Round 2 2020</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Her husband’s
death has left a mess of lawsuits and dangerous questions. At least her company
is thriving. <br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" />
<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span></span></p><a name='more'></a><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">A flung rock cracked the door beside Janece. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“My life savings are gone! He ain't dead! <i>You know</i> where he is!” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She dodged into the building and ran, shaking, into the elevator. During
the climb to the 45<sup>th</sup> floor, she practiced calming breaths. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">A dark-suited man waited. He flashed a badge. “Financial Crimes Division.”
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Janece scanned her keycard to open the
penthouse suite. The detective held the door and leered. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Mrs. Kawaja, there are a number of suits pending against your late
husband’s company, and we need you to help us find the password to access his
online transactions.” He popped a candy from a dish inside the door into his
mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’m calling my lawyers. Speak with them. Stop eating Mr. Kawaja’s
candy, please.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Spitting the candy into a tissue, he muttered, “I hate butterscotch.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Mrs. Kawaja, people are suggesting your husband may still be alive. If it
turns out you know anything about this and have refused to divulge it, you’re
looking at jail time.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Please.” Janece spoke softly. “I don’t know anything about his
business. I’m sorry those people are suffering.” Tears filled her eyes. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I … I do think Burke is dead. I feel it. I’m
sorry.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She firmly closed the door.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">After changing, Janece flowed through three sun salutations, then poured
herself some nettle tea. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Her lawyer called and asked her to send a copy of the note Burke had
left when he had flown out. She read it again, then emailed a picture.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“My darling,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">If anything happens to me, please have them cremate me as soon as
possible. I can’t stand the thought of my dead body being your last memory of
me. God willing, I will see you again soon. Love, B.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">PS – Take good care of my belt! Next to you, it’s my most treasured
possession.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She repeated that Burke left one of these notes every time he flew. He
was superstitious. As long as he expected it, nothing bad would happen. There
was nothing new in this one, right down to the reminder to take care of the
belt, his most treasured possession “next to you”. She consciously relaxed her jaw. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Burke was a huge wrestling fan. The belt was reputedly won by Wendi
Richter in a 1984 WWF women’s championship match held July 23, 1984—Burke’s
birthday. He bought it when he made his first million. He called it his
talisman and had a special display case made for it with an engraved key. He
usually kept it in his pocket, unless he was travelling. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The lawyer asked where the key was. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“He usually left it in a cup on the trophy shelf but it’s not there.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The phone rang again. The lawyer, she assumed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Hello?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Hello, Mrs. Kawaja. No, this is Jeff Tanner. I’m with the insurance claims
investigation unit.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Oh. Can this wait, Mr. Tanner?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Afraid not. I have a few questions about Mr. Kawaja’s personal policy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“What personal policy?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Mrs. Kawaja.” The sarcasm dripped.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Mr. Tanner, I don’t know what you are talking about and my husband just
died suddenly and unexpectedly. Call me at the office.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Just a few questions.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Janece sipped her tea and focused on her heart chakra. “Fine.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Why did your husband travel to Peru?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“He went to purchase a business there for me… my company is expanding
our product lines.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Your company sells…. crystals?” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Wellness products,” she responded sharply. “Aromatherapy, crystals,
nutraceuticals.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Right. So, your husband – with a deadly allergy to bee stings – went to
buy you a honeybee farm in Peru.” She did not see that a response was required
to this statement.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“And his company was some kind of tech startup?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“He developed an algorithm that auto-invested in currency fluctuations. Burke
was very smart.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Not that smart… investors’ money is missing, from what I hear.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“The transactions were encrypted. Once the company finds the master
password, everyone will get their money.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“So where’s the password?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Janece noted the change in tone. “What?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You know where the password is, bitch. There are BILLIONS of dollars
tied up in that fucking company!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Who is this?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“We’re watching you!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She slammed the phone down. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She looked out the wall-length window framing the city skyline. She
missed seeing stars. Before Burke, she spent a lot of time staring at the stars.
Then she got sucked into his orbit. At least now, she had her business.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Suddenly a flashlight flickered in the office tower opposite. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">DING! The elevator. A man in a long coat entered, hat pulled down, scarf
pulled up. He produced a gun.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She shrieked. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“STOP. Close the blinds.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Sobbing, she pressed the button. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Darling.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“BURKE! My god! You’re dead! They cremated you!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He embraced her and then stepped back, examining her. “You’re looking
good.” He pushed past her as he ran to the trophy shelf.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’ll explain it all. We need to run now. Whe…. WHERE IS THE KEY???”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Janece stared back, confusion on her face. “What? Burke, what is going
on? You didn’t leave the key.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yes, I did! I left it where I always do.” He patted her head. “Darling,
this is serious. We need that key.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Janece’s eyes grew. “Burke! Does the key have the master password?” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Burke exhaled audibly. “There is no master password. The key opens our
Cayman Island safety deposit box.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He held her shoulders. “It was all a lie. Okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She pushed him away and sat down, head in hands. “All those peoples’
lives, Burke. Their savings. You faked your death?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Where is the key?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I don’t know.” Her anguished face convinced him. He began pacing. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“People are watching this place. Let’s go--now!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“What about my business?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“We’ll buy you more crystals, hon. We gotta go.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She got up. “You must be starved, I refilled the candy dish. I will grab
my passport!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She heard the clink of the candy dish. Waited. Then the strangled thud. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Our new nutraceutical, hon." She looked down at his swollen face. "Bee venom butterscotch.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She pulled the key from her pocket. Whispered. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’m no one’s trophy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-32637998939900993152020-07-28T04:44:00.000-07:002020-07-28T04:44:42.521-07:00Monday, Second Shift<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><i>This is a story based on a <a href="https://blog.reedsy.com/creative-writing-prompts/">Reedsy prompt</a>. It's still in draft form. Comments welcome! I think I will submit it tomorrow night. </i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">*********</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“MOM’S
BIRTHDAY.” The message flashed across my iPhone screen as I glanced at it for
the time. Right. I forgot, I had to pick up a gift. There was a lilac cardigan
and a bottle of White Shoulders waiting for me at Percy’s Department store. Maybe
I’d get her a cupcake too. Not a cake. I squinted at my lumpy thighs. Neither
of us needed that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Whoop! I
focused on the time. I was going to miss the bus! As I accelerated, I saw the
bus stopping a long half block away. I sprinted, yelling. The bus driver waved
back as he drove by. Ass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">My pulse thudded
in my ears. Ten minutes to the next one. I’d be late, but not deadly. As I
considered whether to walk on to the next stop to fill the time, I noticed two
men in warm-looking grey suits bearing down on me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Bus is gon—”
I offered, but the two swooped in and grabbed my arms. “Excuse me? What is
this? You can’t just—” I started struggling as they slid cuffs onto my wrists.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You know
what you did.” The men pulled me into the back seat of a dark-windowed sedan
purring by the road. I was in shock as it pulled away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“What the
hell is this? I have rights. I’m a Canadian. You can’t just grab people. What
do you think I did? Are you white slavers? What is going on?” I babbled in
fear, whipping my head from one stony chiseled face to the other. They didn’t
react in the slightest. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The car was
going too fast. I was already in a neighborhood I didn’t recognize. “Stop the
car. Please! Stop and let me out! This is a mistake!” I was waiting for their
grip on my arms to lessen but my struggling had no effect on them. “Where are
you taking me? I’m going to be late for work!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I realized
I was sounding ridiculous now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I fell
silent, breathing heavily as my eyes twitched around the car looking for help.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Oh my god,
I was still holding my phone! What a dolt! I wasn’t sure they had noticed –
they continued to stare woodenly ahead, as if getting me in the car had been
their task, and, accomplishing that, they had shut themselves off. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I discreetly
unlocked my phone with my thumb and angled my phone to get a photo of one of
the men and part of my frightened face. I concentrated on quietly and with
minimal movement opening a message to my mom and sending the photo. Then I
remembered the last message on my phone was from my boss – it was to him I’d
sent the photo. Would he understand? I tried to imagine what he was thinking as
I typed, “help me” and hit send. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“This car
is shielded.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The voice from
beside my left ear made me jump and almost drop my phone. “Wha-what?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You will
not be able to send a message to anyone. Your phone is useless.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He was
bluffing. Wasn’t he? I risked a look at my phone. It looked dead. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“H-how did
you…” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Relax Miss
Lovelace.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">They knew
my name. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Was there a
driver in the front seat? There was a window between, it was hard to tell, but
it looked empty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Is … is
someone up there?” I nodded my chin to the front. “Or is this car on autopilot? </span>Who are
you? Do you have badges? Show me your badges!” I was vacillating between terror
and anger. They hadn’t shown any weapons, so I wasn’t really scared, although
their iron and unrelenting grip on my arms suggested that they didn’t need guns.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I tried a different
tack. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“What are
your names? I mean, maybe there is a valid reason for this, but how do I know
if you don’t tell me? Did some old landlord say I had overdue rent or
something?” I was pretty sure this was the plot to an old Law & Order
episode but I felt if I stopped talking, the silence would actually seriously
frighten me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The man on
my right spoke for the first time, tonelessly saying, “You know why we're here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I started
crying. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Lefty shifted
his head a bit. “I think she may actually not know.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Righty
mirrored the slight head turn, gazed at her profile, and agreed, “She is reacting
in a genuinely puzzled manner.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Unexpectedly
Lefty sighed. We were on a highway ramp now, leading west to one of the small
suburbs of the city, and beyond that, toward the rest of the country. “Not
again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Lefty
released my arm and removed the cuffs. I flexed my wrist to restore circulation. I turned to look
at him. He held his forearm in front of him and with the other hand, reached
over to grasp it. With a tug, his arm, jacket and all, cracked opened like a
small casket lid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">My mouth
hung slack. “Wha..”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He reached
inside where 35 years of science fiction film consumption had told me there
would likely be metal and wires, but it looked smooth and buttery soft like old
wood. He pulled forth a small pen-shaped device. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Are you
from the future? Are you a robot? Are you an alien? What are you?” I was
jabbering now, equal parts scared and fascinated. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He grasped
my arm again. “I am a cleaner.” Righty had changed his grip on my arm and was
tapping his fingers along it like it was a player piano. He stretched a hand across
me to take the object from Lefty. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“A… a
cleaner? Like on Breaking Bad? Are you going to ki…kill me?” I whispered,
staring as Righty tapped the object on my arm. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Kind of.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Suddenly I
felt…. A prickling? A strange sensation in the crown of my head. As I stared,
my forearm too swung open.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You do
this every time, Elsie. Skip your shift. Play human.” He tapped an indented button in a complex code. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You’re
late for work.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-78586036235190581172020-07-23T08:02:00.001-07:002020-07-23T08:02:45.494-07:00Break on ThroughPrepared over 48 hours to submit to the NYC Flash Fiction Contest 2020<div>____</div><div><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 26.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Break on Through<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">A woman tries to
mentor her younger friend into finding a good relationship, but maybe she’s
overlooking the obvious… will a séance point the way? <br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" />
<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">****</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The séance to call up Jim Morrison wasn’t my idea. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I mean, I suggested that Cal read the Lizard King to help find his mojo,
but y’know… read the words. Don’t expect to HEAR them from the dead guy. But
that’s Cal, always up for an experience. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’d been looking for a suitable miss for him for a while. Maybe the
spirits could do better!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Cal has a type. He seems to dig the androgynous waifs the way I used to
fall for gay men. And it’s working for him about as well, but the heart wants
what it wants. I thought I’d try setting him up with Kayleigh. I don’t know her
well. She comes in to buy boho clothes, goddess beads and knickknacks. She’s
tiny and young, and seems intelligent. Worth a try.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">So I hosted a potluck at the store. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Kayleigh was excited, said she’d bring a “cake.” Cal showed up with
something he called a Prownie—his own concoction of a boxed brownie mix baked
into a pre-made pie shell. Ingenious. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I introduced them. His eyes widened as he checked her little bare
midriff and midi skirt. Kayleigh handed him a bit of her cake. He was too smitten
to hear when she mentioned “raw food.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Cal offered a hunk of Prownie in exchange. “I don’t eat flour,” was her
reply. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Cal mindlessly took a big bite. I watched his face wrinkle into a
grimace. His mouth opened and raw cashew and raspberry mixture spilled onto his
plate. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He doesn’t give up, my Cal. He followed her as she started talking to
Galen, another customer. Galen nibbled the raw cake from his manicured hands like
it was manna. He was explaining Fight Club to Kayleigh. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Cal interrupted to explain how Fight Club was just a representation of
toxic masculinity. Kayleigh and Galen left shortly after. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">After the party, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was closing up
shop, when a downcast Cal returned. This time he was pining over Lana, one of
three current crushes, not included the ill-fated Kayleigh. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“She’d just not in to dating as a construct,” he said, sadly. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“It’s a line. She’s not into <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i>,
hon. Sorry.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I am the worst at girls.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He says this a lot. It’s part of his personal mythology, though how
anyone in their mid-twenties has developed a personal mythology already without
having a love life is beyond me. Approaching forty, I am just beginning to
build one. Since my last relationship, I am learning to look at myself in new
ways. Older, wiser, maybe matronly. Maybe a matchmaker.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I was putting away some new stock while we talked. He inspected other
items: a wrestling belt, a miniature stop sign like a highway worker would use,
and a monocle.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Ooh, I want this!” he exclaimed, holding the monocle. He disappeared
into the clothing racks and came back wearing a velvet smoking jacket and the
monocle, his hair down. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I nodded my approval. His blue eyes sparkled. His long blonde hair was
softly curling. I felt almost maternal pride. What was wrong with the girls he
knew? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Kayleigh should have seen you like this. Very nice!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He made another grimace. “I don’t think I like raw foodies. Anyway, she
seems to like that other douche.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I jokingly raised the stop sign. “Galen’s not a douche. He’s just got
more game than you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I have no game.” True. I’ve seen him around attractive girls his age. He
acted silly, talked louder. Bounced around like a puppy for scraps. They never
got to see this poised, intelligent, if occasionally goofy, Cal. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He pulled out a film book from the box and began enthusiastically
explaining the history of cinema. The Kayleighs and Lanas of this world were
really missing out. He’s too sweet to be alone. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He appeared suddenly with a steampunk-looking corset. “You should try
this on!” He whirled me over to the mirror, holding it in front of me. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Hmmmm. Sure, why not.” He was standing closer to me than usual and I
was suddenly aware he was wearing cologne. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I stepped into a change room and pulled on the corset over a loose white
blouse to check the fit. The blouse exposed a fair bit of décolletage. I
stepped out to check the mirror. Cal was back at the box of new stock. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“A Ouija board!” he exclaimed. “Let’s summon Jim Morrison! He was shy
too, maybe he’s got some good advi—” he turned as he was talking, and stopped
when he set eyes on me and all my exposed skin. That’s cute. I was flattered. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“A séance?” I rolled my eyes. “Why not. Let me change.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No, you should keep that on.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Jim likes
breasts.” Oh brother. Fine. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He lit a candle and set the board down. Then he plugged in one of the
record players and put on Hard Rock Café.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“We summon the spirit of Jim Morrison. Jim, are you with us?” he
intoned, making the floating part head to “YES”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Okay, sure. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He gestured me closer to the table. I felt like he might still be
looking at my cleavage, but when I checked, his eyes were closed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Jim, will I ever have a girlfriend?” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“If you stop talking about wrestling and Gundams around girls until they
get to know you…,” I muttered, but he shushed me as the Ouija board again
indicated YES. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Can you share with me the initials of this woman?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The floater hesitated and swung around a few times. He was definitely
checking out my cleavage. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“A… N…. C.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He was staring innocently into my eyes now. “What’s your middle name,
Anna Callaghan?” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Norene, you nerd. How did you know that?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Love me two times,” played the record. Had he changed it?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Suddenly, his arms were around me, his lips on mine, and his hand
squarely on one of my breasts.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Well, call me cougar, but who am I to argue with the ghost of Jim
Morrison? <o:p></o:p></span></p><br /></div>cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-12238808028352600872020-07-23T08:00:00.001-07:002020-07-23T08:00:43.459-07:00Grimm Justice<div style="background-color: #fbfbfd; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
Y’all think ghost stories only happen in the dark. That’s jest yer ignorance.</div>
<div style="background-color: #fbfbfd; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: #fbfbfd; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
Ruth had no bizness lettin’ her baby go pettin’ that mangy black dog. She knew it were a Keith-Tree dog.</div>
<div style="background-color: #fbfbfd; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: #fbfbfd; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
I kin still see the blood a-drainin’ outta that Keith. Hanged men don’t bleed, Pa said, but I seen it. Said that man ‘tacked Dolly. Everbody knew she’d been steppin’ out with another feller. </div>
<div style="background-color: #fbfbfd; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: #fbfbfd; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
Keith sure loved dogs. They’s dogs at that tree, since.</div>
<div style="background-color: #fbfbfd; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: #fbfbfd; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
Folks say he whispers to ‘em. Say they’s cursed. A-course that child sickened ‘n’ died. Poor thing, thrashing for air, bleedin’.</div>
<div style="background-color: #fbfbfd; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: #fbfbfd; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
__</div>
<div style="background-color: #fbfbfd; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: #fbfbfd; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
Submitted to round 2 of the NYC Microfiction Contest. Awarded an Honorable mention. (one edit made to this version).</div>
cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-51938229129335360242020-07-23T07:56:00.001-07:002020-07-23T07:56:14.961-07:00Coventry<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Coventry<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The smell
of dirt took her back. Touring her father’s field. Glances from the field hands.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The Count’s
cold hand. Her breast grasped like a heifer’s udder. Her father’s face turning
away. The Count continuing business directives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The bells
were ringing to call her to vespers. She grasped her tools, headed back to the
monastery. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Through the kitchen, pausing as was her custom at Sister Ignatius’ semi-hidden,
heathenish “Warrior Mary” statuette. Prayers not for chapel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Sister
Ignatius grunts, “the Count was unhorsed. Prioress says he dies tonight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Genuflecting.
Eyes down. “I will pray for him.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Shrewd
Sister Ignatius.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Me too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p>___</o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p>Submitted to the NYC Microfiction 2020 competition, chosen in top 20 of category and moved on to semifinals.</o:p></span></div>
<br />cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-55032469198667961152018-10-11T06:49:00.000-07:002018-10-11T06:49:38.235-07:00Hyde, seekThese days I need a dire wolf<br />
A shaggy protector from<br />
Enemies and my own doubts.<br />
<br />
Carry me mind-bound into a deep glade,<br />
Lay me on the magic mound to have<br />
Drained from me all the<br />
Toxic civilization<br />
Till I howl and<br />
Run with her.<br />
<br />
I need an uncanny familiar<br />
Glass eyes reflecting away<br />
Technology blue screen glare,<br />
Nudging me to call forth the<br />
Goddess with candle and cards,<br />
Fire and magic, and salt and moon-washed grass<br />
<br />
My totem animal has become some sort of<br />
Golem, an animated LED screened monster,<br />
That possesses my thoughts, shredding them<br />
Into quarters, into 128s, into 1024s,<br />
Until the bytes buzz like flies, and I am just a<br />
Buzzing electric swarm.<br />
<br />
Ridikulus. Expecto patronum.<br />
Come forth, Isis, Athena, Kali.<br />
This circuitry is a rational trap, and<br />
my synapses are organic.<br />
My belly makes life, and this is not life.<br />
This out-of-balance world is not mine.cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-18499331573803526482018-10-09T06:25:00.001-07:002018-10-09T06:26:02.075-07:00An Agnostic Defends PrayerThose witch hunters,<br />
Thirsting for enemy blood,<br />
Crying to their heartless soulless gods of war and commerce,<br />
<br />
They give it a bad name.<br />
<br />
And thoughtsandprayers as a unit are a social bandaid<br />
We solicitously apply to the wounds of strangers<br />
As we cavort on with our lives.<br />
<br />
When we feel spiritualimnotreallyreligious<br />
<br />
We set intention<br />
Mindfully meditate<br />
Soulfully superior to the snake-dancers, tongue-speakers<br />
Climate change deniers, gay-haters, finger-sandwiches-from-the-auxiliary eaters<br />
<br />
But<br />
prayer is a structure<br />
for thought<br />
<br />
prayer has us review our values,<br />
tally them, bright beads on our<br />
not-rosary<br />
<br />
reflect on them<br />
and then simplify what we are asking for<br />
what resolution we seek<br />
what help we need<br />
<br />
having dressed the room for our best company,<br />
we don't slouch on that sofa as we pray<br />
we consider how our ask will look hanging on that wall facing the window<br />
<br />
we judge our ask<br />
weigh the solicitation we make<br />
consider the bargains we will enter into<br />
<br />
and then, satisfied, we throw it up, invite the universe in<br />
sometimes we get an answer<br />
sometimes we find it in the couch cushions<br />
sometimes the tidy room is enough.<br />
<br />cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-12498930228218536012018-01-18T09:24:00.001-08:002018-01-18T09:27:02.424-08:00I went looking for Buddha (I thought)I thought I went looking for Buddha<br />
Settled into middle-class comfort now<br />
A late midlife lull of mindfulness and peace<br />
With my body<br />
With my fortunes<br />
With my soul's state<br />
I was ready to meditate,<br />
Align with my Western<br />
Middle Class<br />
Buddha-mind.<br />
<br />
I thought I went looking for Buddha<br />
But I found Shiva<br />
Evil-destroyer<br />
Transformer<br />
Creator<br />
Not one, but<br />
One of --<br />
Tripartite god<br />
Batter my heart.<br />
<br />
Shiva, who dances<br />
Serpent-entwined,<br />
Balances in<br />
Dynamic power pose<br />
Ascetic and<br />
Demon-slayer<br />
<br />
Shiva, holding counsel with<br />
Vishnu and Brahma<br />
<br />
Which aspect found me?<br />
Parvati, some guidance?<br />
<br />
Nataraja Shiva,<br />
Parvati and Google tell me.<br />
The dancer<br />
The source of all movement<br />
Creation and destruction<br />
Release of the self<br />
<br />
The restless energy within I had thought to quell<br />
Whips and waves in a tidal dance<br />
Demands release<br />
Let go<br />
Let come<br />
<br />
Destroy the old to make way for the new<br />
As cells do<br />
As cities do<br />
<br />
And as tarots do, my Shiva reveals an answer that was within me.<br />
Let go<br />
Let come<br />
The fires of creation.<br />
<br />
Of course.<br />
Of course.cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-67271794677022846782017-07-24T08:53:00.000-07:002017-07-24T08:53:01.262-07:00Red Room<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaECbTad3GCgUSrPmfDa68J5h1f7rgMXaWhyphenhyphenUTE7R6nFNduUGDGn6bJEGJp8D5DDYVt13-Zh3jh3k3a5TTLyA75_rtLVm5y6zmXwGlU-mm0qx7021NXyMflBv_eK9OPd2CtKS_vC-4957H/s1600/red+room.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="693" data-original-width="1280" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaECbTad3GCgUSrPmfDa68J5h1f7rgMXaWhyphenhyphenUTE7R6nFNduUGDGn6bJEGJp8D5DDYVt13-Zh3jh3k3a5TTLyA75_rtLVm5y6zmXwGlU-mm0qx7021NXyMflBv_eK9OPd2CtKS_vC-4957H/s320/red+room.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
In this red room I circle,<br />
Wheedle the few<br />
Words that break through,<br />
Weave them, knead them, mold and massage them<br />
Into meanings that might<br />
Lift this leaden lumpen carapace.<br />
Tracing the nautilus, thinking<br />
Deeply, nerves pores senses open to<br />
Quantum turbulence, to<br />
Your intentions, to<br />
My grace, essays, defeat.<br />
In this red room<br />
I wait.cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-71383533436035652792017-06-09T09:50:00.003-07:002017-06-09T09:50:35.512-07:00Donald Trump's Favourite Ice Cream FlavourYoutube told me,<br />
Trump prefers vanilla.<br />
<br />
The matrix is broken, I thought,<br />
Thousands of us thought.<br />
An elaborate joke that history will devote online chapters<br />
To analysing.<br />
<br />What covfefe led us here.<br />
<br />
As all things move relentlessly toward chaos,<br />
This chaordic path is yours, America.<br />
Race relations out of control<br />
A schism through your soul<br />
Poverty taking its toll<br />
And as a president, you chose....<br />
a troll.<br />
<br />
Climate change is a hoax?<br />
What people can he coax<br />
That his tweets are not just<br />
nonsense-soaked,<br />
That he is smarter than the jokes.<br />
<br />
The best words.<br />
<br />
Ice caps melt, erratic weather,<br />
A googleplex of variables beyond control,<br />
Hate grows in the hearts of disenfranchised peoples<br />
Fed by hate, fed by war, fed by poverty, by people not fed.<br />
Beyond our ability to control<br />
All the easy problems seem solved<br />
Now we sadly circle a vexing tangle<br />
Gordian knot<br />
of explosive complexity<br />
<br />
When everything else is impossible,<br />
Perhaps only the sublimely absurb<br />
Makes sense.<br />
<br />
<br />cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-88942016144754695922017-01-30T16:58:00.000-08:002017-01-30T16:58:43.555-08:00Mercy is not geometryEven a circle has an edge<br />
Draw it as wide as you want, there<br />
Is still a line. A border. A wall.<br />
Mercy is not geometry.<br />
Love exists beyond the Cartesian plane.<br />
What we do is biology.<br />
Rhizomes, tentacles, porous cell walls.<br />
Find symbiosis.<br />
Unlike ecology, love has no limits.<br />
<br />
Shoeless, in your mitred hat, approach<br />
Crawl until the thorns are blunted,<br />
Sketch your god in the sand, it<br />
Always shifts.<br />
Bring all the pocket messiahs in neckties<br />
But we will wear no corsets here.<br />
<br />
We must do it this way, squeeze,<br />
Pile, stack the open space with all<br />
The dense joy<br />
The ecstasy of being,pull together till there<br />
Is no outside<br />
Inside no lines<br />
All human,<br />
All one.<br />
All die so<br />
All love.cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7689639676570386320.post-61572000105240442762016-12-07T10:31:00.001-08:002016-12-07T11:11:40.770-08:0027 Years Ago (Dec 6 Montreal Massacre Memorial)Tina:<br />
Engineering student,<br />
Tall. Some boys called her<br />
Amazon.<br />
<br />
Trying to lose weight with Slimfast and water<br />
Her body fine, though,<br />
Her mind sharp,<br />
Her emotions fraught by<br />
19 years of being<br />
a woman.<br />
<br />
27 years ago.<br />
<br />
I have lost her last name, but<br />
I remember the lilt of her Newfoundland accent.<br />
<br />
Her green hazel eyes, steadfastness,<br />
Openness.<br />
<br />
27 years ago.<br />
<br />
She joined me, on the<br />
Stained, aged gold-and-olive flowered sofa we<br />
Dumpster-rescued,<br />
Sprayed with vinegar, kept like the flea-ridden kitten we brought home,<br />
The stray downtown boys who needed<br />
a place to crash,<br />
The stolen bar glasses that traced an evening.<br />
<br />
The couch outlasted us - we couldn't get it back out again.<br />
When we moved<br />
It stayed.<br />
<br />
We sat, clutching tissues, hunched<br />
forward, eyes wide to absorb the flickering drama unfolding<br />
Disbelieving.<br />
Unprepared.<br />
It could be us.<br />
It could be you, Tina.<br />
They were engineering students.<br />
This is Canada.<br />
<br />
Warm Diet Pepsi to swallow the salt tears. Why?<br />
<br />
Why?<br />
<br />
The news anchors' hush, their drawn brows a swelling movie score,<br />
This is where you feel. This is what you feel.<br />
<br />
It could be us.<br />
<br />
Well, not me, I deal in words.<br />
Girls are allowed to do that. They give us that.<br />
What power in words?<br />
But don't you dare don't you DARE don't you DREAM that you<br />
girl amazon bitch hateful cunt whore woman<br />
don't you<br />
take my job my math my formulas my bridges to build, my world to<br />
dominate.<br />
<br />
27 years ago.<br />
<br />
And now.<br />
<br />
Betheda:<br />
15 and given to 10 ISIS "warriors" to rape and rape<br />
and rape<br />
like a gift<br />
like junk food<br />
to be consumed and discarded and I wonder<br />
when do we dare to dream? Why?<br />
Why did I lose track of that perfectly good sofa<br />
(Good bones, you know),<br />
But I still have this. We still have this. <br />
<br />
27 years ago.<br />
27 seconds ago.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />cr8tiveCandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00599170376522167348noreply@blogger.com0