Close your eyes, and flow away.
Wake not again, till the break of day.
Live and be free, my plea for thee.
Stay safe till darkness ends.
Dream safely child, dream, of peace.
Dream of happiness, dream the sweet dreams.
Dream as I hold you, closely each night.
Dreams guard your sleep, till the dawns early light.
Sleep now my child, deep as the night.
Sleep with my love for you, always in sight.
Sleep with the moons light, sleep with the stars.
Sleep with my love child, where ever you are.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Daisy
He loved me, more than time could tell.
He loved me not, when darkness fell.
He loved me, when the spring was new.
He loved me not, when the winds of winter blew.
He loved me, when we touched the sky.
He loved me less, as time flew by.
He loved me, as the morning dew.
He loved me not, as I faded from view.
He loved me not, when darkness fell.
He loved me, when the spring was new.
He loved me not, when the winds of winter blew.
He loved me, when we touched the sky.
He loved me less, as time flew by.
He loved me, as the morning dew.
He loved me not, as I faded from view.
Stolen
I'll draw a little picture
A picture dark and deep.
I'll draw it with the moonless night
Hiding what you seek.
And from this little picture
I'll cover all the night.
And with this simple picture,
I've stolen all the light.
A picture dark and deep.
I'll draw it with the moonless night
Hiding what you seek.
And from this little picture
I'll cover all the night.
And with this simple picture,
I've stolen all the light.
Time
If I could make our time stand still,
I'd do it just for you.
If I could bring you back to me,
Each day would be fresh and new.
If I could heal all your pain
With just one touch, one kiss.
Not a single word you spoke
Ever would I miss.
If I only knew it was our last hour together,
What would I give to stop the clock.
How much love would it take to
Keep you here with me?
If I only knew it would take
More than I could give
To halt the sands of time.
No matter how I wish
No matter how I pray.
I know you can
No longer stay.
I'd do it just for you.
If I could bring you back to me,
Each day would be fresh and new.
If I could heal all your pain
With just one touch, one kiss.
Not a single word you spoke
Ever would I miss.
If I only knew it was our last hour together,
What would I give to stop the clock.
How much love would it take to
Keep you here with me?
If I only knew it would take
More than I could give
To halt the sands of time.
No matter how I wish
No matter how I pray.
I know you can
No longer stay.
Original Picture
I'll draw a little picture,
A picture with a twist.
I'll draw it with a razor
A picture on my wrist.
And from this little picture
A fountain will appear.
And from this open fountain
My pain will disappear.
(By Nagi)
A picture with a twist.
I'll draw it with a razor
A picture on my wrist.
And from this little picture
A fountain will appear.
And from this open fountain
My pain will disappear.
(By Nagi)
Nothing - Picture
I'll draw a little picture
Of things that cannot be.
I'll draw it with my life's blood
Singing, cool and sweet.
And from this staff of music
I'll chose the melody.
OF the dance of all that is
And things that could never be.
Of things that cannot be.
I'll draw it with my life's blood
Singing, cool and sweet.
And from this staff of music
I'll chose the melody.
OF the dance of all that is
And things that could never be.
Time and Dreams
Time
Has no
Meaning to
Any who Dare to
Dream.
Dreams
Are the
Gateway to
Immortal worlds
Unseen.
Unseen
They float
In the wake
Of the dreamers
Dream.
Has no
Meaning to
Any who Dare to
Dream.
Dreams
Are the
Gateway to
Immortal worlds
Unseen.
Unseen
They float
In the wake
Of the dreamers
Dream.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Elven Prince
Seek along the riverside a pathway through the woods.
And come along to wondrous Silverglen,
In the sunlight, where it stood.
See you there fair Elven lives
Of peace and trust and good.
There you'll find them all once more,
On the pathway through the woods.
See you there fair Elven Prince;
Kind and just and true.
He flies through the woods like wind through the trees,
For causes no one knew.
He flits silently through fields of sun
And shadows dark and deep.
He seeks to find fair river maid,
Where mighty waters sleep.
Fair river maid waits for her king
Aby the riverside.
All clothed in silvery white she is
And along the waters glide.
She looks about with mournful eyes,
A vigil through the night.
The one she loves, she cannot have.
Fair Elven Prince of light.
Fair Elven Prince of Silverglen
Fair River Maiden of the stream,
Seeks to find a place to be,
If only in a dream.
A mournful song will be sung,
An echo through the woods.
of poor Silverglen and Stream,
In the sunlight, where they stood.
Those who seek the pathway
Along the riverside,
Will hear a haunting melody
From the river tide.
Of fair Elven Prince
And lovely Lady of the Stream,
Carried aloft upon the wind,
Through the sunlit trees.
And come along to wondrous Silverglen,
In the sunlight, where it stood.
See you there fair Elven lives
Of peace and trust and good.
There you'll find them all once more,
On the pathway through the woods.
See you there fair Elven Prince;
Kind and just and true.
He flies through the woods like wind through the trees,
For causes no one knew.
He flits silently through fields of sun
And shadows dark and deep.
He seeks to find fair river maid,
Where mighty waters sleep.
Fair river maid waits for her king
Aby the riverside.
All clothed in silvery white she is
And along the waters glide.
She looks about with mournful eyes,
A vigil through the night.
The one she loves, she cannot have.
Fair Elven Prince of light.
Fair Elven Prince of Silverglen
Fair River Maiden of the stream,
Seeks to find a place to be,
If only in a dream.
A mournful song will be sung,
An echo through the woods.
of poor Silverglen and Stream,
In the sunlight, where they stood.
Those who seek the pathway
Along the riverside,
Will hear a haunting melody
From the river tide.
Of fair Elven Prince
And lovely Lady of the Stream,
Carried aloft upon the wind,
Through the sunlit trees.
Greatness
I walked along with greatness,
Side by side we two.
I asked him once to tell me
Of something he knew true.
He told me of the times he knew
And lessons he had learned.
But still within my questing mind
The queries ever burned.
He gazed into the heavens
and back at me once more.
He said he could not tell me
Of what life had in store.
He whispered softly into my ear
Within his eye, I saw a tear.
Into your soul you must peer.
Know yourself and face your fear.
I cannot tell you of what's to be.
Just take my hand and follow me.
Side by side we two.
I asked him once to tell me
Of something he knew true.
He told me of the times he knew
And lessons he had learned.
But still within my questing mind
The queries ever burned.
He gazed into the heavens
and back at me once more.
He said he could not tell me
Of what life had in store.
He whispered softly into my ear
Within his eye, I saw a tear.
Into your soul you must peer.
Know yourself and face your fear.
I cannot tell you of what's to be.
Just take my hand and follow me.
Sightless
I sense the passage of time,
The warmth slowly fading from the room,
Replaced with dusks coolness.
I put my raised dots down and move across the room.
My sister has come and gone,
And I stub my toe on the chair she moved.
Dream lingers in the air, like the faint scent of love.
I close my eyes on the darkness,
And the voices echo in my mind.
I fade into sleep in my endless darkness,
And awake to the saltiness of tears in the night.
From eyes that have never seen.
The warmth slowly fading from the room,
Replaced with dusks coolness.
I put my raised dots down and move across the room.
My sister has come and gone,
And I stub my toe on the chair she moved.
Dream lingers in the air, like the faint scent of love.
I close my eyes on the darkness,
And the voices echo in my mind.
I fade into sleep in my endless darkness,
And awake to the saltiness of tears in the night.
From eyes that have never seen.
Exhaustion
Exhaustion is the greyness clouding my mind.
Voices falling muted on my ears,
and a dryness like cotton invades my mouth.
I see my mother smiling down at me,
And she softly caresses my head.
the scent of a warm blanket fills my mind,
As she gently rocks me back and forth.
Tears seep from heavy eyelids,
And I'm a little girl again.
Voices falling muted on my ears,
and a dryness like cotton invades my mouth.
I see my mother smiling down at me,
And she softly caresses my head.
the scent of a warm blanket fills my mind,
As she gently rocks me back and forth.
Tears seep from heavy eyelids,
And I'm a little girl again.
Anger
Anger is the blackness, invading my soul.
The litany of a thousand voices pounding in my ears.
The bitterness of the tears overwhelm me,
And the stench of a hundred years of hatred vies
With the visage of the one I loath.
Trapped within my own mind,
By the feelings of despair.
The litany of a thousand voices pounding in my ears.
The bitterness of the tears overwhelm me,
And the stench of a hundred years of hatred vies
With the visage of the one I loath.
Trapped within my own mind,
By the feelings of despair.
Memories
We are on the edge of freedom, turn,
The sun, steam rising from the frostbitten night time.
Blue eyes, chips of ice focus on the dance floor.
Anger and wounded pride.
He runs, trying to free the broken spirit.
Teeth grit, a twitch in ridged cheeks.
Doomed to the armagedon of despair.
Searching for respite from the satanic fury.
Memories of eyes, lips painted red. Baseball,
Forever picnics of kool-aid, fresh apple pie and hamburgers.
Cascading waterfalls in the distance
Laugh like little girls.
Small drops, drilling into soft earth.
Eternal impressions on the world.
The sun, steam rising from the frostbitten night time.
Blue eyes, chips of ice focus on the dance floor.
Anger and wounded pride.
He runs, trying to free the broken spirit.
Teeth grit, a twitch in ridged cheeks.
Doomed to the armagedon of despair.
Searching for respite from the satanic fury.
Memories of eyes, lips painted red. Baseball,
Forever picnics of kool-aid, fresh apple pie and hamburgers.
Cascading waterfalls in the distance
Laugh like little girls.
Small drops, drilling into soft earth.
Eternal impressions on the world.
Crush of the World
Weight. Pressing down.
Awake, dress, trying to hide in the lee.
Soft words spoken, hide harsh meanings.
They yell, they order. I stumble and fall.
Time is the enemy, and nothing my friend.
Rush. Rush. Win the race.
Never finished, feeling older.
The crush of the world on my back.
Awake, dress, trying to hide in the lee.
Soft words spoken, hide harsh meanings.
They yell, they order. I stumble and fall.
Time is the enemy, and nothing my friend.
Rush. Rush. Win the race.
Never finished, feeling older.
The crush of the world on my back.
Friendship
Friendship, comfort, sitting side by side.
A look, a glance. Worth a thousand,
And none needed.
Tick of a clock, countless hours pass.
Gentle murmur of voices.
Parting ways with soft goodbyes.
Memories of days gone by.
A look, a glance. Worth a thousand,
And none needed.
Tick of a clock, countless hours pass.
Gentle murmur of voices.
Parting ways with soft goodbyes.
Memories of days gone by.
Pen
Pen, expresser of my soul, bleeding thought
Black on white. Words twist, forming images.
A single rose in a vase is pure snow.
Hot chocolate by the fire, mesmerized by
Dancing flames.
Images emerge in the half-light.
Warriors in battle,
A black and white movie,
Viewed in the dark.
Black on white. Words twist, forming images.
A single rose in a vase is pure snow.
Hot chocolate by the fire, mesmerized by
Dancing flames.
Images emerge in the half-light.
Warriors in battle,
A black and white movie,
Viewed in the dark.
Flames
Flame. Beautiful, flickering in the night.
the core is blue eyes, a mile deep lake.
White brilliance.
Fire on snow.
Blue changes violet, ageless.
A boy shunned.
the core is blue eyes, a mile deep lake.
White brilliance.
Fire on snow.
Blue changes violet, ageless.
A boy shunned.
Rude Awakening
Images flit across the dark screen.
A flash of a smile,
A glimpse of piercing eyes.
A Christmas,
A thousand ornaments on a tree.
Cinnamon wafting through the air.
Gentle music and children playing in the night.
Christmas fades into a
Blue sky.
Sails billowing like clouds,
A ship.
Gently rocking on the Aegean Sea.
to be replaced with desks and walls,
The teacher loudly calling my name.
A flash of a smile,
A glimpse of piercing eyes.
A Christmas,
A thousand ornaments on a tree.
Cinnamon wafting through the air.
Gentle music and children playing in the night.
Christmas fades into a
Blue sky.
Sails billowing like clouds,
A ship.
Gently rocking on the Aegean Sea.
to be replaced with desks and walls,
The teacher loudly calling my name.
Pen - Apology
I borrowed your pen that was on the desk,
You were probably saving it for a poem or two.
Forgive me.
I got black ink on your white carpet
That was fresh and new.
You were probably saving it for a poem or two.
Forgive me.
I got black ink on your white carpet
That was fresh and new.
Afraid - Apology
I pushed you away
Afraid of the hurt,
Afraid of the love
And the sorrow.
I'm sorry.
I pushed you too far.
I'll never get
Another chance.
Afraid of the hurt,
Afraid of the love
And the sorrow.
I'm sorry.
I pushed you too far.
I'll never get
Another chance.
Car - Apology
I have taken your car out for a spin
I intended to get it washed afterwards.
Forgive me,
You'll never see me again
Because I was stupid too...
I intended to get it washed afterwards.
Forgive me,
You'll never see me again
Because I was stupid too...
Snowstorm - Cinquain
Snowstorm,
Winds howl nightly.
Warm inside by the fire.
Smoke blows into the frigid night.
I'm safe.
Winds howl nightly.
Warm inside by the fire.
Smoke blows into the frigid night.
I'm safe.
Lighthouse - Cinquain
Lighthouse
Solid, Eternal.
Rain, Storm, Vigilance.
A guide through the darkness.
Beacon
Solid, Eternal.
Rain, Storm, Vigilance.
A guide through the darkness.
Beacon
Prayer
Give me one more chance Dear Lord.
Another one to give.
Another one to live Dear Lord,
And another to forgive.
Give me one more chance I pray
To live my life another day.
Give me one more day to laugh,
Another one to cry.
Give me a life of love Dear Lord,
Before you let me die.
Another one to give.
Another one to live Dear Lord,
And another to forgive.
Give me one more chance I pray
To live my life another day.
Give me one more day to laugh,
Another one to cry.
Give me a life of love Dear Lord,
Before you let me die.
Words
I took those words you said to me,
Bottled them up inside,
Never to give them back.
Forgive me.
I couldn't bear it
If you said them to another.
Bottled them up inside,
Never to give them back.
Forgive me.
I couldn't bear it
If you said them to another.
Promises
I took your promise literally
I thought you would follow through
I'm sorry that you could not see,
How much I depended on you.
I thought you would follow through
I'm sorry that you could not see,
How much I depended on you.
Sea Fever
(A/N Does not belong to me)
I must go down to the seas again,
to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship
and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song
and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face
and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again,
for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call
that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day
with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume,
and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again
to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way
where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn
from a laughing fellow rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream
when the long trick's over.
-- John Masefield
I must go down to the seas again,
to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship
and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song
and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face
and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again,
for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call
that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day
with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume,
and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again
to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way
where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn
from a laughing fellow rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream
when the long trick's over.
-- John Masefield
Friday, April 15, 2011
Secret Revealed
"Tell me a secret," Hannah whispered, nudging me in the side.
I looked up at her, "what kind of secret? There are so many different kinds and different levels of secrets. There are everyday secrets, and there are deeper secrets, secrets that you don't mind people knowing, and secrets that you would guard with your life," I said.
She blinked at me, clearly at a loss for words.
I smiled, "alright, here's a secret for you. One that few people know," I said, drawing out the suspense.
Hannah leaned in close to me, "tell me."
"I'm colorblind," I said.
I looked up at her, "what kind of secret? There are so many different kinds and different levels of secrets. There are everyday secrets, and there are deeper secrets, secrets that you don't mind people knowing, and secrets that you would guard with your life," I said.
She blinked at me, clearly at a loss for words.
I smiled, "alright, here's a secret for you. One that few people know," I said, drawing out the suspense.
Hannah leaned in close to me, "tell me."
"I'm colorblind," I said.
Never Will
I don't think I ever told him about that night. The night I first kissed him. We had talked many times since then, but I don't think he ever knew that it was my first kiss. He never knew how long I had waited to find someone special, someone that I could love enough to give that special moment to.
I don't think he knew how important he was to me, how much I had come to love him in such a short time. He probably didn't know how much it hurt to lose him, because I never told him that I loved him.
And now I never will.
I don't think he knew how important he was to me, how much I had come to love him in such a short time. He probably didn't know how much it hurt to lose him, because I never told him that I loved him.
And now I never will.
Know what they say...
"Can you keep a secret Mark?"
I looked up from where I was studying my textbook. I pulled off my glasses and wiped them slowly on a piece of soft cloth, "of course I can," I said, "but you do know what they say."
"I have to tell someone or I'll go crazy," Sam said and leaned in closer.
I placed a marker in my text and turned my full attention towards Sam. He was practically jumping up and down. Sam was a journalist for a local newspaper.
"I heard about something big that is going down. I was looking into the recent death of Brock Tharen, the one that died of a heart attack, and I found a whole host of other unsolved, or mysterious deaths within the same two hundred mile radius," he said in a whisper, looking around briefly to see if we were being overheard. "I think that there is some sort of organization that is taking out these people. I figure it can't be one man," he said, 'too many deaths in too short a time.
I took off my glasses again and gave them another brief swipe with the cloth, "have you told anyone else about your suspicions?" I asked.
"No, I thought I could rely on your opinion," he said.
"Just as you should," I said with a smile and beckoned him to follow me, 'though you never did answer my question about secrets. Do you know what they say about them?"
"Not really," Sam said with a laugh.
"Two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead," I said. I wasn't laughing as a slipped a knife between his ribs.
I looked up from where I was studying my textbook. I pulled off my glasses and wiped them slowly on a piece of soft cloth, "of course I can," I said, "but you do know what they say."
"I have to tell someone or I'll go crazy," Sam said and leaned in closer.
I placed a marker in my text and turned my full attention towards Sam. He was practically jumping up and down. Sam was a journalist for a local newspaper.
"I heard about something big that is going down. I was looking into the recent death of Brock Tharen, the one that died of a heart attack, and I found a whole host of other unsolved, or mysterious deaths within the same two hundred mile radius," he said in a whisper, looking around briefly to see if we were being overheard. "I think that there is some sort of organization that is taking out these people. I figure it can't be one man," he said, 'too many deaths in too short a time.
I took off my glasses again and gave them another brief swipe with the cloth, "have you told anyone else about your suspicions?" I asked.
"No, I thought I could rely on your opinion," he said.
"Just as you should," I said with a smile and beckoned him to follow me, 'though you never did answer my question about secrets. Do you know what they say about them?"
"Not really," Sam said with a laugh.
"Two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead," I said. I wasn't laughing as a slipped a knife between his ribs.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Seek
Seek along the mountain tops, and forests dark and deep.
Seek, to find, the mysteries they keep.
Seek among the glades, seek within the dales
Seek a newer way to go, blaze another trail.
Travel down the pathways and out into the world
Find the old forgotten roads, let your sails unfurl
Push aside the brambles, seek a different way
Keep on walking forward, begin another day
Sweet spring grasses, gathered for a bed
Make the heather, a pillow for your head
Let the stars to be your guide
Lay beneath the summer skies.
Seek, to find, the mysteries they keep.
Seek among the glades, seek within the dales
Seek a newer way to go, blaze another trail.
Travel down the pathways and out into the world
Find the old forgotten roads, let your sails unfurl
Push aside the brambles, seek a different way
Keep on walking forward, begin another day
Sweet spring grasses, gathered for a bed
Make the heather, a pillow for your head
Let the stars to be your guide
Lay beneath the summer skies.
Faded Scars
A wounded heart is criss crossed with scars,
Thick and faded.
Some, thin and dripping.
They get picked at,
Again and again,
Building a barrier
Calloused and hard.
Marring that soft
Vital organ
(not really finished, but I wanted to get it down.)
Thick and faded.
Some, thin and dripping.
They get picked at,
Again and again,
Building a barrier
Calloused and hard.
Marring that soft
Vital organ
(not really finished, but I wanted to get it down.)
His Voice
I squirmed with a tiny bit of guilt whenever Joyce asked me about the tapes. I know I was supposed to turn the tapes back in. After all it's only fair. Eventually I knew that another blind student may need them, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't give up his voice.
I smiled as I moved about the kitchen, preparing a little bit of light lunch for myself and Chris, Diane following me around. He was coming over soon to read an additional supplement from class.
My thoughts turned back to Chris. He had volunteered to help me any time that I needed it. I'm sure I had blushed when he told me that. Even now I could feel my face getting warm from thinking of him. He didn't know that I had kept the tapes.
When we were together, it wasn't just his voice that drew me in, it was him. His voice, his personality, his warmth. I knew that if I just reached out that I could touch him, he was never far away when we were together. That always comforted me.
There was another reason that I kept the tapes. What if one day he wasn't there? What was going to happen when he graduated, or I did? We would go our separate ways and that would be that.
I heard the doorbell ring and the sound to Diane's nails on the floor as she trotted to the front hall. I followed quickly, movements sure in my own home.
"Hi," he said, and I could tell he was smiling.
"Hi Chris," I said and patted Diane on the head, "come on in. I have things set up on the table.
"Sounds good," he said and followed me down the short hallway into the kitchen.
I smiled as I moved about the kitchen, preparing a little bit of light lunch for myself and Chris, Diane following me around. He was coming over soon to read an additional supplement from class.
My thoughts turned back to Chris. He had volunteered to help me any time that I needed it. I'm sure I had blushed when he told me that. Even now I could feel my face getting warm from thinking of him. He didn't know that I had kept the tapes.
When we were together, it wasn't just his voice that drew me in, it was him. His voice, his personality, his warmth. I knew that if I just reached out that I could touch him, he was never far away when we were together. That always comforted me.
There was another reason that I kept the tapes. What if one day he wasn't there? What was going to happen when he graduated, or I did? We would go our separate ways and that would be that.
I heard the doorbell ring and the sound to Diane's nails on the floor as she trotted to the front hall. I followed quickly, movements sure in my own home.
"Hi," he said, and I could tell he was smiling.
"Hi Chris," I said and patted Diane on the head, "come on in. I have things set up on the table.
"Sounds good," he said and followed me down the short hallway into the kitchen.
You're on
When I sing, I sing only for her. I know that other women come to listen to me, stare at me in rapt attention, dreamy looks floating across their faces. They never see more than my smile, I make sure of that.
It doesn't seem to matter if it's in English, Italian or French; all my songs call to her. I can see it in her eyes, the puzzled look that creases her brow as of she is trying to puzzle something together.
I look out from the side of the stage, from that slight part between the curtain and the wall. I look out at her. Alastrina, sitting so poised and beautiful near the bar. I take in her figure from afar, her green dress swirling just perfectly about her knees. I can also feel the butterflies building in my stomach. Each time I sing to her it's as if it's the first time.
"You're on Partrick," the stage manager told me as he brushed past me.
I swallowed a bit nervously, and reminded myself why I was doing this. I was doing it for her. Hopefully I wouldn't need to keep secrets from her much longer. I stepped out onto the dark stage and found my place as the opening notes flooded into the room.
Hush now baby don't you cry
Rest your wings my butterfly
Peace will come to you in time
And I will sing this lullaby...
It doesn't seem to matter if it's in English, Italian or French; all my songs call to her. I can see it in her eyes, the puzzled look that creases her brow as of she is trying to puzzle something together.
I look out from the side of the stage, from that slight part between the curtain and the wall. I look out at her. Alastrina, sitting so poised and beautiful near the bar. I take in her figure from afar, her green dress swirling just perfectly about her knees. I can also feel the butterflies building in my stomach. Each time I sing to her it's as if it's the first time.
"You're on Partrick," the stage manager told me as he brushed past me.
I swallowed a bit nervously, and reminded myself why I was doing this. I was doing it for her. Hopefully I wouldn't need to keep secrets from her much longer. I stepped out onto the dark stage and found my place as the opening notes flooded into the room.
Hush now baby don't you cry
Rest your wings my butterfly
Peace will come to you in time
And I will sing this lullaby...
Silken Goat
"You look surprised to see me," Andrew said, reclining on a plush chair.
I blinked, still not quite sure what to make of the situation, "what are you doing here?" I finally managed to get out.
"Didn't you hear that I've been reformed?" he asked. He sipped at his cocktail, smirking like that cat that ate the canary. "I paid my debt to society and they let me out for good behavior," he said. "After all, I was wrongfully imprisoned," he put on a look of hurt, "and I was such a model prisoner. They never had any problems with me at all."
But all those people you killed, all the lives you destroyed. How could they let you out?" I asked.
Andrew stood up and walked across the room to the bar, glancing back at me, "come now Benjamin, I never actually killed anyone, and those so called 'lives' were barely worth calling lives anyway. It was a mercy to them."
"You might fool them," I said quietly, "but I know what you are. A monster. A cold blooded killer who will never change."
"But I have changed Ben. Your government even said so," he laughed.
I shook my head and stepped towards the door, "put silk on a goat, and it's still a goat," I said and walked out into the night.
(Not really what I had in mind for this. I think I will try this quote again later at some point. I really do like it.)
I blinked, still not quite sure what to make of the situation, "what are you doing here?" I finally managed to get out.
"Didn't you hear that I've been reformed?" he asked. He sipped at his cocktail, smirking like that cat that ate the canary. "I paid my debt to society and they let me out for good behavior," he said. "After all, I was wrongfully imprisoned," he put on a look of hurt, "and I was such a model prisoner. They never had any problems with me at all."
But all those people you killed, all the lives you destroyed. How could they let you out?" I asked.
Andrew stood up and walked across the room to the bar, glancing back at me, "come now Benjamin, I never actually killed anyone, and those so called 'lives' were barely worth calling lives anyway. It was a mercy to them."
"You might fool them," I said quietly, "but I know what you are. A monster. A cold blooded killer who will never change."
"But I have changed Ben. Your government even said so," he laughed.
I shook my head and stepped towards the door, "put silk on a goat, and it's still a goat," I said and walked out into the night.
(Not really what I had in mind for this. I think I will try this quote again later at some point. I really do like it.)
Cursed
The blisters on the bottom of my feet seared with pain, each step a fresh agony, every mile a torment. Remote hills marched ponderously closer and receded into the distance behind me.
I didn't know where I was going anymore. Didn't know where I had been or what the next rise would show me; I only knew that I had to keep moving forward. Forever wandering. This was my curse and my punishment.
It all seemed so long ago now. A curse placed upon me for an innocent mistake. I thought back on how I had come to be on this long road.
Nadya was as beautiful as the sunrise and as fair as the spring wind and I had made the mistake of falling in love with her. She was of the wandering people. The Romani, the gypsies. They were an old people. With old traditions and old magic. Nadya had been promised to another, but I didn't care. I foolishly persuaded her to run away with me. I was sure we would be happy together.
That was before her mother had found us out. I remember the coldness in her eyes, deep, fathomless eyes that seemed to burn even as they froze. She simply stepped between us. She looked me in they eye and said, "Poate tu rătăcească pe faţa pământului pentru totdeauna, niciodată de două ori dorm in acelasi pat, nu bea apă de două ori din acelaşi bine, şi niciodată nu cruce de două ori acelaşi râu într-un an."
From that moment on I have continuously wandered. Never resting more than a day and never in the same place. It was a long time before I found anyone that could translate the words that had been burned into my memory. And when I did, I finally understood.
May you wander over the face of the earth forever, never sleep twice in the same bed, never drink water twice from the same well, and never cross the same river twice in a year.
I didn't know where I was going anymore. Didn't know where I had been or what the next rise would show me; I only knew that I had to keep moving forward. Forever wandering. This was my curse and my punishment.
It all seemed so long ago now. A curse placed upon me for an innocent mistake. I thought back on how I had come to be on this long road.
Nadya was as beautiful as the sunrise and as fair as the spring wind and I had made the mistake of falling in love with her. She was of the wandering people. The Romani, the gypsies. They were an old people. With old traditions and old magic. Nadya had been promised to another, but I didn't care. I foolishly persuaded her to run away with me. I was sure we would be happy together.
That was before her mother had found us out. I remember the coldness in her eyes, deep, fathomless eyes that seemed to burn even as they froze. She simply stepped between us. She looked me in they eye and said, "Poate tu rătăcească pe faţa pământului pentru totdeauna, niciodată de două ori dorm in acelasi pat, nu bea apă de două ori din acelaşi bine, şi niciodată nu cruce de două ori acelaşi râu într-un an."
From that moment on I have continuously wandered. Never resting more than a day and never in the same place. It was a long time before I found anyone that could translate the words that had been burned into my memory. And when I did, I finally understood.
May you wander over the face of the earth forever, never sleep twice in the same bed, never drink water twice from the same well, and never cross the same river twice in a year.
Speech in Silence
It was a long time before I realized why David was so different from other men, and people in general.
It wasn't the fact that he was gentle, I knew a few men who were just as gentle. It wasn't that he was extremely handsome, though he certainly was. It was simply the fact that he said nothing at all. Ever.
I realized it the day that I ran right into him. The boss had just bawled me out for turning in a project late and I was hurrying back to my desk to finalize the plans for the new high rise that our firm was building in the heart of the city. I wasn't looking where I was going, furiously making notes on my hand held about the specs that needed to be updated and the building codes that had to be checked, when I slammed right into someone, knocking the both of us down amid a flurry of papers.
"I am so sorry!" I exclaimed. I made a grab for some papers that were floating within reach. "I wasn't watching where I was going. It's all my fault," I said.
I finally looked up after gathering the papers and my eyes met Davids.
"David!" I gasped, "I... I didn't know it was you."
He smiled at me and made a calming gesture.
"Are you alright?" I asked, "Is anything missing." I reached out to take his offered hand and stood up straight. David nodded and handed me back my hand held. I could feel my brow furrowing in confusion, "David?"
David simply smiled at me and reached into his pocket for a small pad of paper and a pen. "I'm alright. Are you okay?" he jotted down in a neat hand.
"I... I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't realized," I stumbled over an apology, embarrassed that I didn't know that he was mute. I felt my face grow red.
"It's alright," I read from his paper, "sometimes silence is also speech.”
It wasn't the fact that he was gentle, I knew a few men who were just as gentle. It wasn't that he was extremely handsome, though he certainly was. It was simply the fact that he said nothing at all. Ever.
I realized it the day that I ran right into him. The boss had just bawled me out for turning in a project late and I was hurrying back to my desk to finalize the plans for the new high rise that our firm was building in the heart of the city. I wasn't looking where I was going, furiously making notes on my hand held about the specs that needed to be updated and the building codes that had to be checked, when I slammed right into someone, knocking the both of us down amid a flurry of papers.
"I am so sorry!" I exclaimed. I made a grab for some papers that were floating within reach. "I wasn't watching where I was going. It's all my fault," I said.
I finally looked up after gathering the papers and my eyes met Davids.
"David!" I gasped, "I... I didn't know it was you."
He smiled at me and made a calming gesture.
"Are you alright?" I asked, "Is anything missing." I reached out to take his offered hand and stood up straight. David nodded and handed me back my hand held. I could feel my brow furrowing in confusion, "David?"
David simply smiled at me and reached into his pocket for a small pad of paper and a pen. "I'm alright. Are you okay?" he jotted down in a neat hand.
"I... I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't realized," I stumbled over an apology, embarrassed that I didn't know that he was mute. I felt my face grow red.
"It's alright," I read from his paper, "sometimes silence is also speech.”
A Garden in My Pocket
"Found one!" I called out in excitement.
I pounced in glee when my eyes fell on a pocket version of my favorite book, The Count of Monte Cristo. Ann and I were following our usual Saturday ritual of combing through old book stores for rare finds.
I thumbed through the slightly wrinkled pages, noting the slight water damage to the edges. The print was excruciatingly small, but I didn't mind too much. Not when I had the opportunity to carry it with me anywhere.
"Susan, are you finished?" Ann called out to me from the front of the store. I smiled in response to my friend, though she couldn't see me at the moment. I could always count on Ann to join me in a book hunt.
I stepped around the end of a shelf and spotted my friend. She was petite, with red hair and bright blue eyes. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose.
"What did you find?" Ann asked.
"A copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. And it's small enough to carry anywhere," I said with excitement.
"But you have at least four copies of that book already," Ann laughed. We quickly payed for our purchases.
"But this one I can take anywhere. After all a book is like a garden carried in the pocket," I said.
I pounced in glee when my eyes fell on a pocket version of my favorite book, The Count of Monte Cristo. Ann and I were following our usual Saturday ritual of combing through old book stores for rare finds.
I thumbed through the slightly wrinkled pages, noting the slight water damage to the edges. The print was excruciatingly small, but I didn't mind too much. Not when I had the opportunity to carry it with me anywhere.
"Susan, are you finished?" Ann called out to me from the front of the store. I smiled in response to my friend, though she couldn't see me at the moment. I could always count on Ann to join me in a book hunt.
I stepped around the end of a shelf and spotted my friend. She was petite, with red hair and bright blue eyes. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose.
"What did you find?" Ann asked.
"A copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. And it's small enough to carry anywhere," I said with excitement.
"But you have at least four copies of that book already," Ann laughed. We quickly payed for our purchases.
"But this one I can take anywhere. After all a book is like a garden carried in the pocket," I said.
Beyond and Beyond
"Where are you going Brandon?" James asked. He stood to the side, watching me pack an old leather backpack; the type you would associate with a long journey.
"I don't really know," I shrugged, "not yet at least," I another item in the bag. Set to the side of the bag in a neat pile was a long walking stick and a map, a rain coat and a pair of sturdy boots.
"I guess a better question would be why are you going?" James asked and nudged me, prodding for answers.
I muttered under my breath, words that echoed in my mind; burned in my soul.
"I didn't quite catch that mate," James said and he leaned closer.
I straightened up and looked my friend in the eye, "beyond the East the sunrise, beyond the West the sea. And East and West, the wanderthirst that will never let me be. It works in me like madness to bid me say goodbye. For the seas call and the stars call, and oh, the call of the sky," I quoted, the words finally spilling free.
James blinked in surprise at the intensity. In those few lines he began to understand what drove me to travel, to see new places.
"Would you mind if I joined you?" James asked after a moment, the words of the poem still echoing in his mind, reverberating with a hidden power.
"I wouldn't mind at all," I said with a smile, "long roads seem shorter with a friend at your side."
"I don't really know," I shrugged, "not yet at least," I another item in the bag. Set to the side of the bag in a neat pile was a long walking stick and a map, a rain coat and a pair of sturdy boots.
"I guess a better question would be why are you going?" James asked and nudged me, prodding for answers.
I muttered under my breath, words that echoed in my mind; burned in my soul.
"I didn't quite catch that mate," James said and he leaned closer.
I straightened up and looked my friend in the eye, "beyond the East the sunrise, beyond the West the sea. And East and West, the wanderthirst that will never let me be. It works in me like madness to bid me say goodbye. For the seas call and the stars call, and oh, the call of the sky," I quoted, the words finally spilling free.
James blinked in surprise at the intensity. In those few lines he began to understand what drove me to travel, to see new places.
"Would you mind if I joined you?" James asked after a moment, the words of the poem still echoing in his mind, reverberating with a hidden power.
"I wouldn't mind at all," I said with a smile, "long roads seem shorter with a friend at your side."
Almost Got It
"Hurry up!" Joe urged, almost hopping up and down with impatience.
"You're not helping," Bryan replied as he wiped a sheen of sweat from his face.
"You realize that we could all die?" Joe said.
"Gee, I didn't know that Joe!" Bryan said, laying the sarcasm on thick, "it's not like I can't see the timer. This isn't as easy as it looks."
Joe started pacing back and forth as Bryan continued to work, literally humming with anxiety.
"I've almost got it," Bryan mumbled more to himself than to Joe.
Joe stopped pacing to watch his friend intently, "ten seconds he warned."
Bryan could hear the beeping of the timer and held his breath as it read 3...2...1
He let out and explosive breath and let his head drop into his hands, frustrated with his failure. "I can't believe I have to start the level all over again," he moaned and picked up the controller
"You're not helping," Bryan replied as he wiped a sheen of sweat from his face.
"You realize that we could all die?" Joe said.
"Gee, I didn't know that Joe!" Bryan said, laying the sarcasm on thick, "it's not like I can't see the timer. This isn't as easy as it looks."
Joe started pacing back and forth as Bryan continued to work, literally humming with anxiety.
"I've almost got it," Bryan mumbled more to himself than to Joe.
Joe stopped pacing to watch his friend intently, "ten seconds he warned."
Bryan could hear the beeping of the timer and held his breath as it read 3...2...1
He let out and explosive breath and let his head drop into his hands, frustrated with his failure. "I can't believe I have to start the level all over again," he moaned and picked up the controller
Your Time is Up
Joe was ecstatic. Time had run out and he was ready to leave. He smiled to himself, Not only was he leaving behind this nightmare of a foster home but he had somewhere to go. Joe grabbed a few more things and placed them in a box.
As if sensing the end was near, Hal came bursting into the room. Joe could smell the booze on him and he wrinkled his nose in disgust at the putrid scent.
"Where do you think you're going?" the drunkard slurred in Joe's general direction, his eyes unable to focus very well.
"Shouldn't matter to you," Joe said. He could hardly stand the sight of the man let alone the smell.
"You don't turn eighteen until next week," Hal said as he approached Joe, his hand curling into a fist, "until then, you stay."
Joe laughed, tears coming to his eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation, "you think you can make me stay? You think you can tell me what to do anymore? You think I'm going to stick around and let you try to ruin my life further? Though, heaven knows, the only thing that you could do is make me sick from looking at you," Joe said in derision.
"I'll teach you a thing or two before you go," Hal threatened as he moved forward. He didn't see how Joe shifted his weight, hands held loosely by his side.
Before Hal could raise his fist Joe had struck quick as lighting, his own blow landing in Hal's spongy midsection, followed quickly by a vicious right-cross to the face.
Hal stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, gripping his stomach in obvious agony. He looked up to see Joe standing over him and flinched back from the rage in his face.
"Your time is up Hal," Joe said and stepped over the prone man on the ground.
As if sensing the end was near, Hal came bursting into the room. Joe could smell the booze on him and he wrinkled his nose in disgust at the putrid scent.
"Where do you think you're going?" the drunkard slurred in Joe's general direction, his eyes unable to focus very well.
"Shouldn't matter to you," Joe said. He could hardly stand the sight of the man let alone the smell.
"You don't turn eighteen until next week," Hal said as he approached Joe, his hand curling into a fist, "until then, you stay."
Joe laughed, tears coming to his eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation, "you think you can make me stay? You think you can tell me what to do anymore? You think I'm going to stick around and let you try to ruin my life further? Though, heaven knows, the only thing that you could do is make me sick from looking at you," Joe said in derision.
"I'll teach you a thing or two before you go," Hal threatened as he moved forward. He didn't see how Joe shifted his weight, hands held loosely by his side.
Before Hal could raise his fist Joe had struck quick as lighting, his own blow landing in Hal's spongy midsection, followed quickly by a vicious right-cross to the face.
Hal stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, gripping his stomach in obvious agony. He looked up to see Joe standing over him and flinched back from the rage in his face.
"Your time is up Hal," Joe said and stepped over the prone man on the ground.
Almost Finished
"Don't you ever worry about deadlines?" Ariana asked as she filled in yet another line on yet another college application. She not only needed to finish fulling out the applications but also write up the required essays. She and David were applying for all the same schools and hoping that they were accepted to the same ones. She was holding out for an East coast school.
"Not really," David said. His own papers were all neatly filled out and sitting in a pile along with the essays; he was intent on addressing envelopes. "If you are prepared and start early then there is really no need to panic over deadlines."
Ariana knew that he was right and that she should get batter at prioritizing. She knew that she was smart; she just didn't like to think about deadlines. Didn't like to feel pressured. She laughed to herself, her lips twitching into a small grin, "you would think that as much as I don't like pressure that I would have had these done a while ago like you did."
David shrugged and leaned back, "everyone deals with stuff like this differently," he said and leaned over to give his girl a quick hug. "Are you almost finished?" he asked.
"Yeah. Almost finished," Ariana said and turned back to her forms.
"Not really," David said. His own papers were all neatly filled out and sitting in a pile along with the essays; he was intent on addressing envelopes. "If you are prepared and start early then there is really no need to panic over deadlines."
Ariana knew that he was right and that she should get batter at prioritizing. She knew that she was smart; she just didn't like to think about deadlines. Didn't like to feel pressured. She laughed to herself, her lips twitching into a small grin, "you would think that as much as I don't like pressure that I would have had these done a while ago like you did."
David shrugged and leaned back, "everyone deals with stuff like this differently," he said and leaned over to give his girl a quick hug. "Are you almost finished?" he asked.
"Yeah. Almost finished," Ariana said and turned back to her forms.
Simply Ask
"Time's getting short," Bryan taunted his brother, his tone almost sing-song in quality.
"Don't you think I know that!" Mark snarled back. His hands clenched and unclenched unconsciously as he paced back and forth in the room that they shared.
Bryan stood off to one side of the room and watched his twins restless pacing. "Seriously," he asked after a few minutes of the one man parade, "what is the big deal about this? It's not like it's the end of the world or anything."
"Easy for you to say," Mark muttered.
"What was that?" Bryan asked leaning forward.
"I said, that it's easy for you to say that. You've never had troubles with this sort of thing. It just comes easily for you," Mark said.
"Okay, seriously," Bryan said, "just go and ask her. I know you like her and she likes you, and the dance is in three days. And," Bryan stressed, "if you don't ask Katie now then somebody else might and then you lose out."
"You're right," Mark said and sat down on the edge of the bed, "but I just don't know what to say." He had heard all of the various girls around the school gushing about who had been asked and how and all the creativity that seemed to be an intrinsic part of the biggest dance of the year.
"How about, would you like to go to the dance with me?" Bryan suggested simply. He reclined on the bed with his hands crossed behind his head.
"I guess I should go and ask her then," Mark said.
"Now is as good a time as any," Bryan replied sagely and tossed his brother his cell phone.
Mark caught the phone and heard a quiet ringing coming from it followed by a faint, "hello?"
Mark raised the phone to his ear and swallowed hard, "Hi Katie, it's Mark...."
"Don't you think I know that!" Mark snarled back. His hands clenched and unclenched unconsciously as he paced back and forth in the room that they shared.
Bryan stood off to one side of the room and watched his twins restless pacing. "Seriously," he asked after a few minutes of the one man parade, "what is the big deal about this? It's not like it's the end of the world or anything."
"Easy for you to say," Mark muttered.
"What was that?" Bryan asked leaning forward.
"I said, that it's easy for you to say that. You've never had troubles with this sort of thing. It just comes easily for you," Mark said.
"Okay, seriously," Bryan said, "just go and ask her. I know you like her and she likes you, and the dance is in three days. And," Bryan stressed, "if you don't ask Katie now then somebody else might and then you lose out."
"You're right," Mark said and sat down on the edge of the bed, "but I just don't know what to say." He had heard all of the various girls around the school gushing about who had been asked and how and all the creativity that seemed to be an intrinsic part of the biggest dance of the year.
"How about, would you like to go to the dance with me?" Bryan suggested simply. He reclined on the bed with his hands crossed behind his head.
"I guess I should go and ask her then," Mark said.
"Now is as good a time as any," Bryan replied sagely and tossed his brother his cell phone.
Mark caught the phone and heard a quiet ringing coming from it followed by a faint, "hello?"
Mark raised the phone to his ear and swallowed hard, "Hi Katie, it's Mark...."
Know What it Takes?
"Come on Steve!" Bryan called down the hall, "are you ready to hit the club?"
"I can't come," Steve called back, adjusting his glasses with one hand while his other hand kept his place in the shuffle of papers on the desk.
"What!? Why not?" Bryan asked as he entered the room. He was dressed to go out. A slightly iridescent black shirt was paired with comfortable jeans.
Steven looked up from his paperwork, "because I have reports and paperwork to finish that are due next week. And they won't do themselves," he said calmly.
"Aw man, take the night off," Bryan wheedled, "you can get it done tomorrow."
"If I do that then I will get behind," Steve said as he turned back to his papers, "do you know what it takes to keep this unit running smoothly?"
Bryan thought about that for a moment, realizing that he didn't know exactly how everything got to where it needed to be and how they got their money, or paid their bills or received their supplies. He always assumed that some clerk in the military handled the logistics of the team.
"I guess not," Bryan finally said.
Steve nodded, more to himself than to Bryan and returned to his paperwork as Bryan left the room.
"I should be free on Friday night though!" he called to Bryan. He couldn't see Bryan's grin as he walked out the front door.
"I can't come," Steve called back, adjusting his glasses with one hand while his other hand kept his place in the shuffle of papers on the desk.
"What!? Why not?" Bryan asked as he entered the room. He was dressed to go out. A slightly iridescent black shirt was paired with comfortable jeans.
Steven looked up from his paperwork, "because I have reports and paperwork to finish that are due next week. And they won't do themselves," he said calmly.
"Aw man, take the night off," Bryan wheedled, "you can get it done tomorrow."
"If I do that then I will get behind," Steve said as he turned back to his papers, "do you know what it takes to keep this unit running smoothly?"
Bryan thought about that for a moment, realizing that he didn't know exactly how everything got to where it needed to be and how they got their money, or paid their bills or received their supplies. He always assumed that some clerk in the military handled the logistics of the team.
"I guess not," Bryan finally said.
Steve nodded, more to himself than to Bryan and returned to his paperwork as Bryan left the room.
"I should be free on Friday night though!" he called to Bryan. He couldn't see Bryan's grin as he walked out the front door.
Any Good?
"What are you reading?" Hal asked, plopping down beside David. Hal was one of the few people that David would count as a friend in this school. One of the only people who would make the first move to initiate conversation.
David held up the slim novel, "Persuasion, by Jane Austen," he said.
Hal tried, but didn't succeed in suppressing a bubble of laughter. "Why on earth are you reading that?" he asked, merriment dancing in his eyes at the thought of his friend reading such a girly book.
"Just because you would never broaden your horizons doesn't mean the rest of us don't," David sniffed in mock disdain, "besides," he added and smiled a little, "it's one of Ariana's favorites."
"What's it about?" Hal asked, still clearly amused.
"It's about a military man who fell in love with a young girl. The young girl gave up the relationship when pressured by her family. They split up and he went to sea. He came back years later and this is the story of how they both cope with it. It's a story about waiting," David said.
"Is it any good?" Hal asked, his tone low, as if embarrassed to be caught asking.
"It's really good," David said, "I'll let you read it when I'm finished if you want," he continued, casting a sidelong glance at his friend.
Hal looked around quickly, "alright," he said, "if it's as good as you say then I'll check it out."
David smirked a little and returned to the story.
David held up the slim novel, "Persuasion, by Jane Austen," he said.
Hal tried, but didn't succeed in suppressing a bubble of laughter. "Why on earth are you reading that?" he asked, merriment dancing in his eyes at the thought of his friend reading such a girly book.
"Just because you would never broaden your horizons doesn't mean the rest of us don't," David sniffed in mock disdain, "besides," he added and smiled a little, "it's one of Ariana's favorites."
"What's it about?" Hal asked, still clearly amused.
"It's about a military man who fell in love with a young girl. The young girl gave up the relationship when pressured by her family. They split up and he went to sea. He came back years later and this is the story of how they both cope with it. It's a story about waiting," David said.
"Is it any good?" Hal asked, his tone low, as if embarrassed to be caught asking.
"It's really good," David said, "I'll let you read it when I'm finished if you want," he continued, casting a sidelong glance at his friend.
Hal looked around quickly, "alright," he said, "if it's as good as you say then I'll check it out."
David smirked a little and returned to the story.
Moving Memories
"What are you looking for?" Jen asked as she watched Joe rummage through a tattered old moving box.
"Nothing in particular," he said, brushing dust from his cheek.
"What's in the box?" she asked leaning a little closer. She could see old papers, notebooks, and some odds and ends.
"It's just a bunch of stuff from the past," Joe mumbled, his voice muffled from his head being in the box as he dug deeper, "I haven't looking in this box in years."
Jen leaned against the last unpainted wall of the apartment, she was wearing white overalls and a pair of faded old sneakers. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and the rest was trapped by an old red bandanna. She held a paintbrush in one hand, letting her arms rest atop her knees.
"What made you decide to look in the box now?" Jen asked; she eyed the young man in curiosity.
Joe looked up at her and smiled, "because of the move, silly," he said. It had taken them a while to agree that they should get an apartment together and even longer before they found one that they liked. "Isn't that what people do when they move? They go through old boxes and relive the past, try to decide if they want to keep the stuff, realize the memories it brings back and decide to keep it though they will hardly ever look at it again,"
Joe's searching fingers had grasped a thin glossy book and pulled it from under the pile of papers. He smiled fondly at it as he thumbed through it. "I haven't seen or though of this book in years," he said.
"What book is that?" Jen asked looking over at him.
Joe stood up and crossed the room to sit beside her, "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day," Joe said, "Alec used to read it to me when we were young. Whenever I was having a bad day."
Jen glanced sideways to see if Joe was in pain, but was relieved to find only a fond smile tugging at his mouth. "Will you read it to me?" Jen asked.
Joe's smile widened and he flipped open the front cover. "I went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there's gum in my hair..."
"Nothing in particular," he said, brushing dust from his cheek.
"What's in the box?" she asked leaning a little closer. She could see old papers, notebooks, and some odds and ends.
"It's just a bunch of stuff from the past," Joe mumbled, his voice muffled from his head being in the box as he dug deeper, "I haven't looking in this box in years."
Jen leaned against the last unpainted wall of the apartment, she was wearing white overalls and a pair of faded old sneakers. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and the rest was trapped by an old red bandanna. She held a paintbrush in one hand, letting her arms rest atop her knees.
"What made you decide to look in the box now?" Jen asked; she eyed the young man in curiosity.
Joe looked up at her and smiled, "because of the move, silly," he said. It had taken them a while to agree that they should get an apartment together and even longer before they found one that they liked. "Isn't that what people do when they move? They go through old boxes and relive the past, try to decide if they want to keep the stuff, realize the memories it brings back and decide to keep it though they will hardly ever look at it again,"
Joe's searching fingers had grasped a thin glossy book and pulled it from under the pile of papers. He smiled fondly at it as he thumbed through it. "I haven't seen or though of this book in years," he said.
"What book is that?" Jen asked looking over at him.
Joe stood up and crossed the room to sit beside her, "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day," Joe said, "Alec used to read it to me when we were young. Whenever I was having a bad day."
Jen glanced sideways to see if Joe was in pain, but was relieved to find only a fond smile tugging at his mouth. "Will you read it to me?" Jen asked.
Joe's smile widened and he flipped open the front cover. "I went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there's gum in my hair..."
Spoiled
Mark eagerly began the last chapter of his novel, Warbreaker. He had waited a while to savor this book until he had a little R&R and could take the time to really enjoy it fully. He could almost see it as if it were being played out in front of him. It was one of the reasons he loved to read. He could see it. He could rewind and replay a scene over and over again.
"Hey, I've read that one," Joe exclaimed as he wandered into the living room, "isn't it fantastic? I loved the ending, didn't you? I especially like the part where Vash defeats the bad guy at the end and the God-King is proven to be... Wasn't that a surprise?"
Mark looked up at Joe, his eyes flashing in anger. "It isn't a surprise anymore," Mark said flatly as he snapped the book closed, "do you know how long I've been waiting to read that?"
Joe swallowed hard, suddenly looking like he would rather be anywhere else than where he was. Joe slowly backed out of the room before turning and hurrying down the hall.
Mark growled in frustration and tossed the book aside. He hated a spoiled ending.
"Hey, I've read that one," Joe exclaimed as he wandered into the living room, "isn't it fantastic? I loved the ending, didn't you? I especially like the part where Vash defeats the bad guy at the end and the God-King is proven to be... Wasn't that a surprise?"
Mark looked up at Joe, his eyes flashing in anger. "It isn't a surprise anymore," Mark said flatly as he snapped the book closed, "do you know how long I've been waiting to read that?"
Joe swallowed hard, suddenly looking like he would rather be anywhere else than where he was. Joe slowly backed out of the room before turning and hurrying down the hall.
Mark growled in frustration and tossed the book aside. He hated a spoiled ending.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Speak-Easy
Mark couldn't remember how long it had been since he had played the piano. He ran his fingers across the dusty keys and picked out a few chords. The bench creaked as he sat down, his weight settling the ancient wood.
Only one or two keys were slightly out of tune as Mark tested them out, his fingers flowing across the ivory. Music flooded the room and it sounded like an entire jazz band era orchestra was coming from the old piano. A vision seemed to materialize from the notes that shimmered in the air.
One could picture a 1920s speak-easy, fedoras tilted at rakish angles and the air hazy with cigarette smoke. Low conversation punctuated by the soft clink of ice in glasses of illegally obtained booze. Smooth men in suits with smartly oiled hair played cards and transacted business deals. Women were resplendent in tight cocktail dresses, hair perfectly coiffed, faces painted up to look like perfect china dolls.
Servers in tuxedos ghosted through the room, collecting glasses and lighting cigars. A piano sat in the far corner of the lounge, a smartly dressed man in slacks and suspenders sat on the bench, coaxing popular tunes from the instrument.
With a final flourish, Mark raised his fingers from the keys and the vision of the speak-easy faded slowly into the dusty darkness.
Only one or two keys were slightly out of tune as Mark tested them out, his fingers flowing across the ivory. Music flooded the room and it sounded like an entire jazz band era orchestra was coming from the old piano. A vision seemed to materialize from the notes that shimmered in the air.
One could picture a 1920s speak-easy, fedoras tilted at rakish angles and the air hazy with cigarette smoke. Low conversation punctuated by the soft clink of ice in glasses of illegally obtained booze. Smooth men in suits with smartly oiled hair played cards and transacted business deals. Women were resplendent in tight cocktail dresses, hair perfectly coiffed, faces painted up to look like perfect china dolls.
Servers in tuxedos ghosted through the room, collecting glasses and lighting cigars. A piano sat in the far corner of the lounge, a smartly dressed man in slacks and suspenders sat on the bench, coaxing popular tunes from the instrument.
With a final flourish, Mark raised his fingers from the keys and the vision of the speak-easy faded slowly into the dusty darkness.
Brother My Brother
Joe let his fingers lightly caress the strings as he hummed a wordless melody, his pitch perfectly harmonic to the chords he strummed. A ripple of sound rolled off six strings and echoed through the wooden body of the old guitar that Alec had left behind.
"I didn't know you played the guitar," David said as he poked his head into the den of their little apartment, his thoughts had been sidetracked when he had heard the quiet music.
"I don't really," Joe replied, "Just the chords that someone once taught me. I shuffle them around into different patterns, though it never comes out quite right."
David stepped out of the room, his mind returning to his paperwork when he was arrested in his thoughts again as Joe softly began to sing, his voice a rich tenor.
"Brother my brother
our time, it was so brief.
We laughed until our days were gone
And now we come to grief.
Time and again I remember when
We laughed until we cried.
And even though the memory is strong
It feels like I'm dying inside.
Your spirit whispers softly
urging me to carry on.
Still you keep me from falling,
Even now, when you are gone."
David hadn't noticed when tears had begun rolling down his cheeks.
(I am proud to say that I wrote those lyrics myself just for this piece.)
"I didn't know you played the guitar," David said as he poked his head into the den of their little apartment, his thoughts had been sidetracked when he had heard the quiet music.
"I don't really," Joe replied, "Just the chords that someone once taught me. I shuffle them around into different patterns, though it never comes out quite right."
David stepped out of the room, his mind returning to his paperwork when he was arrested in his thoughts again as Joe softly began to sing, his voice a rich tenor.
"Brother my brother
our time, it was so brief.
We laughed until our days were gone
And now we come to grief.
Time and again I remember when
We laughed until we cried.
And even though the memory is strong
It feels like I'm dying inside.
Your spirit whispers softly
urging me to carry on.
Still you keep me from falling,
Even now, when you are gone."
David hadn't noticed when tears had begun rolling down his cheeks.
(I am proud to say that I wrote those lyrics myself just for this piece.)
Beatbox
Steve sauntered down the hall towards his math class, headless of the looks that he got as he passed. He tapped rhythmicly on his thigh as his lips contorted, his voice forming the strangest sounds. For a moment it sounded like a snare drum to be followed by a base drum, a kick, some base, and various synth sounds, all of it tumbling from his lips in the most compelling patterns.
Steve leaned against the wall outside his class room as he continued to Beat box, his eyes closed and his fingers keeping time on the wall; increasing in tempo and complexity. He finished with a flourish of sounds and stepped into the room just as the bell rang, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Steve leaned against the wall outside his class room as he continued to Beat box, his eyes closed and his fingers keeping time on the wall; increasing in tempo and complexity. He finished with a flourish of sounds and stepped into the room just as the bell rang, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Anymore
Each tear is a searing needle
Digging deep into the soul
Every memory a traitorous
Tether, binding free will.
Lightest brush of the fingers,
Tingles remembered. Dancing.
Dancing across the skin.
Simple embrace,
seeking comfort.
Fitting together
Just like before.
A stolen kiss
Quiet whispers.
I can't do this anymore.
Digging deep into the soul
Every memory a traitorous
Tether, binding free will.
Lightest brush of the fingers,
Tingles remembered. Dancing.
Dancing across the skin.
Simple embrace,
seeking comfort.
Fitting together
Just like before.
A stolen kiss
Quiet whispers.
I can't do this anymore.
Gift of Life
Give me life and give me hope,
New beginnings and
Springtime joys.
Give me air and light,
Bright days and
Starry nights
Give me freshening winds,
Dancing waves and
Soaring birds.
Give me majestic pines
Wooded hills and
Rocky slopes
Give me vast deserts,
Shifting sands and
Scorching earth.
Give me frozen ponds,
Drifting snow and
Misting breath.
Give me a world of wonder.
Each day a gift and
Each night a dream.
New beginnings and
Springtime joys.
Give me air and light,
Bright days and
Starry nights
Give me freshening winds,
Dancing waves and
Soaring birds.
Give me majestic pines
Wooded hills and
Rocky slopes
Give me vast deserts,
Shifting sands and
Scorching earth.
Give me frozen ponds,
Drifting snow and
Misting breath.
Give me a world of wonder.
Each day a gift and
Each night a dream.
Don't Remember
Don't remember how once
You thought to fly,
Buoyed up on the warmest drafts,
Circling higher than you dared imagine.
Don't remember the giddy dreams,
The impossible visions,
Of what might have been.
Don't Remember.
Forget the gentle touch.
Forget the whispered word.
Forget the shadowed gaze.
And forget the sweetest kiss.
Forget.
Forget it all.
For the sake of sanity
And self preservation.
Forget what you had.
File it all into the past
Neatly ordered.
Every thought and wish and dream.
Keep it safely forgotten,
Labeled carefully in your mind.
Let it collect the dust of time.
Become yellowed with age.
Until you forget it was ever there.
You thought to fly,
Buoyed up on the warmest drafts,
Circling higher than you dared imagine.
Don't remember the giddy dreams,
The impossible visions,
Of what might have been.
Don't Remember.
Forget the gentle touch.
Forget the whispered word.
Forget the shadowed gaze.
And forget the sweetest kiss.
Forget.
Forget it all.
For the sake of sanity
And self preservation.
Forget what you had.
File it all into the past
Neatly ordered.
Every thought and wish and dream.
Keep it safely forgotten,
Labeled carefully in your mind.
Let it collect the dust of time.
Become yellowed with age.
Until you forget it was ever there.
Shut Up
"We're lost."
"No We're not. We are exactly where we are supposed to be."
"Oh really? Since when did Utah have a great river running thorough it?"
"The Colorado River runs through Utah."
"That isn't the Colorado. It's to big. I told you we should have taken exit 251. But you didn't want to listen to me."
"Then what do you suggest genius?"
"Pull off at the next exit and turn us around. Duh."
"Fine. There's a sign coming up. It says.... Wyoming 120 Miles."
"I told you."
"Shut up..."
"No We're not. We are exactly where we are supposed to be."
"Oh really? Since when did Utah have a great river running thorough it?"
"The Colorado River runs through Utah."
"That isn't the Colorado. It's to big. I told you we should have taken exit 251. But you didn't want to listen to me."
"Then what do you suggest genius?"
"Pull off at the next exit and turn us around. Duh."
"Fine. There's a sign coming up. It says.... Wyoming 120 Miles."
"I told you."
"Shut up..."
Mama
"Hi mama," I said quietly as I knelt down in the cool grass of the late afternoon. I reached out and brushed a little bit of dirt from the smooth granite of the headstone; it was still a little warm from the sun.
"There are so many things I wanted to say to you," I began to talk to my mom, as if she were there, as if she could hear me. "Things that I never had a chance to say. Things that I didn't understand or couldn't express," my voice trailed off as memories came to the surface. Memories of good times, memories of how she had shaped my young life. Many of my memories flitted like insubstantial wisps, and others stood out in sharp detail.
"I know I probably never said it enough, but I love you. And I wanted to thank you," I paused, again assaulted by memories. "Mama thank you for who I am," I began, "thank you for all the things I'm not." I knew that because of her my job had a purpose. I was not like many of the others in the units who had little to no soul, who didn't care who they hurt and why.
"Mama remember all my life, you showed me love, You sacrificed. I think of those young and early days and how I've changed along the way," I continued to ramble on, just pouring my heart out. I felt tears begin to form, this day had been long in coming and now that it was here I found it hard to go on.
"I know you believed in me and I know you had dreams. And I'm sorry it took all this time for me to see; That I am where I am because of your truth. I miss you," I choked out, "I miss you."
I stood up on unsteady feet, "Everything that I am I owe to you, mama," I whispered and turned away.
"There are so many things I wanted to say to you," I began to talk to my mom, as if she were there, as if she could hear me. "Things that I never had a chance to say. Things that I didn't understand or couldn't express," my voice trailed off as memories came to the surface. Memories of good times, memories of how she had shaped my young life. Many of my memories flitted like insubstantial wisps, and others stood out in sharp detail.
"I know I probably never said it enough, but I love you. And I wanted to thank you," I paused, again assaulted by memories. "Mama thank you for who I am," I began, "thank you for all the things I'm not." I knew that because of her my job had a purpose. I was not like many of the others in the units who had little to no soul, who didn't care who they hurt and why.
"Mama remember all my life, you showed me love, You sacrificed. I think of those young and early days and how I've changed along the way," I continued to ramble on, just pouring my heart out. I felt tears begin to form, this day had been long in coming and now that it was here I found it hard to go on.
"I know you believed in me and I know you had dreams. And I'm sorry it took all this time for me to see; That I am where I am because of your truth. I miss you," I choked out, "I miss you."
I stood up on unsteady feet, "Everything that I am I owe to you, mama," I whispered and turned away.
No Second Chances
"Just a minute," I called towards the door when I heard the knock. I could feel my brow crinkle with confusion. Nobody that I knew would be coming around in the afternoon; they all had regular jobs that kept them busy. 'It's probably some door to door sales person,' I thought absently as I quickly finished typing out the last paragraph that I was working on and closed the lid to my laptop. I pulled a sweater on over my thin shirt as I stood up; the weather had gotten chilly recently and I didn't want to get sick. I was way too busy for that.
The knock sounded again on the pale oak of the front door.
"Yes? How can I..." My words died on my lips as my eyes fell on the man standing on my doorstep. A man I hadn't seen in four years.
"John," I whispered in shock.
"Hello Chris," he said, his mouth pulling into a crooked smile. A smile that I knew as well as if it were my own.
I was too stunned to even respond. A thousand memories and feelings connected to that smile stampeded across my mind.
"Chris?"
It was almost as if I heard him from a distance, his voice faint, an undercurrent to the rush of blood in my ears. "Chris? Are you alright?" he asked when I didn't move.
I jumped like I had been electrocuted when I felt his fingers brush my arm in concern.
My eyes once again focused on what was in front of me, "What are you doing here John?" I took a step back so that I was firmly out of reach. I didn't know how he had found me or even why he was here.
"I wanted to talk to you," he said as he folded his arms across his body, as if to keep his hands to himself.
"So talk."
"Chris, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry," he began.
"It's Christina," I interrupted him, "please don't call me Chris. Nobody calls me Chris anymore."
'Nobody since you,' I thought to myself.
"Okay, Christina," he almost stumbled over my full name, "I wanted to tell you that I was sorry, that I was completely in the wrong..."
His voice faded into the background again as the memories of that night so many years ago played across my mind.
********
Most of the memories of that day were fuzzy, distorted, and even missing, but what I did remember was that it had been raining that day, the moisture was thick in the cool September air and the sun was playing peek-a-boo in the clouds. I remembered waiting for him. He had promised to meet me, that he had something to tell me. I remember sitting on our bench in the park, my coat pulled tight around me, and waiting.
I was still waiting when the sun went down, and when the rain began to pound harder. I remember being puzzled, and then worried, and then angry. And I remember realizing that he wasn't coming. So I went home.
I expected him to call. He never did. And I never saw him again. Until today.
"Can you forgive me Christina?"
I focused on him again. "I'm sorry John, but it doesn't work like that. You don't get to destroy someones life and then get to waltz back in as if nothing had ever happened."
"Chris..."
"It's Christina!" I almost shouted. "Chris stopped existing a long time ago. She stopped existing the day you left," I finished quietly, barely more than a whisper. I could feel the tears beginning to pool, but I would never let him see them.
"I'm sorry John, but there are no second chances," I said as I slowly closed the door on my past.
The knock sounded again on the pale oak of the front door.
"Yes? How can I..." My words died on my lips as my eyes fell on the man standing on my doorstep. A man I hadn't seen in four years.
"John," I whispered in shock.
"Hello Chris," he said, his mouth pulling into a crooked smile. A smile that I knew as well as if it were my own.
I was too stunned to even respond. A thousand memories and feelings connected to that smile stampeded across my mind.
"Chris?"
It was almost as if I heard him from a distance, his voice faint, an undercurrent to the rush of blood in my ears. "Chris? Are you alright?" he asked when I didn't move.
I jumped like I had been electrocuted when I felt his fingers brush my arm in concern.
My eyes once again focused on what was in front of me, "What are you doing here John?" I took a step back so that I was firmly out of reach. I didn't know how he had found me or even why he was here.
"I wanted to talk to you," he said as he folded his arms across his body, as if to keep his hands to himself.
"So talk."
"Chris, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry," he began.
"It's Christina," I interrupted him, "please don't call me Chris. Nobody calls me Chris anymore."
'Nobody since you,' I thought to myself.
"Okay, Christina," he almost stumbled over my full name, "I wanted to tell you that I was sorry, that I was completely in the wrong..."
His voice faded into the background again as the memories of that night so many years ago played across my mind.
********
Most of the memories of that day were fuzzy, distorted, and even missing, but what I did remember was that it had been raining that day, the moisture was thick in the cool September air and the sun was playing peek-a-boo in the clouds. I remembered waiting for him. He had promised to meet me, that he had something to tell me. I remember sitting on our bench in the park, my coat pulled tight around me, and waiting.
I was still waiting when the sun went down, and when the rain began to pound harder. I remember being puzzled, and then worried, and then angry. And I remember realizing that he wasn't coming. So I went home.
I expected him to call. He never did. And I never saw him again. Until today.
"Can you forgive me Christina?"
I focused on him again. "I'm sorry John, but it doesn't work like that. You don't get to destroy someones life and then get to waltz back in as if nothing had ever happened."
"Chris..."
"It's Christina!" I almost shouted. "Chris stopped existing a long time ago. She stopped existing the day you left," I finished quietly, barely more than a whisper. I could feel the tears beginning to pool, but I would never let him see them.
"I'm sorry John, but there are no second chances," I said as I slowly closed the door on my past.
Henry
Henry was all angles. From his bony elbows and knees to the sharp angle of his chin. Tall, was what people called him when they were being polite. Fire red hair stood up all over his head in cowlicks and swirls, his bangs falling into his bright blue eyes. His deep quiet voice seemed to rumble up from the earth, or from the general vicinity of his size 18 shoes.
His movements were always slow and studied, as if he were afraid he would break something. And he felt awkward, as if he never quite fit.
Always out of place.
His movements were always slow and studied, as if he were afraid he would break something. And he felt awkward, as if he never quite fit.
Always out of place.
Dale
Screams echoed in his head. Screams from battles past, and not so past. Screams of the innocent as well as the guilty, of those he had killed and of those that he had simply stood aside and let die. Voices that lingered, reverberating inside his head, rising and falling with the rush of blood through his veins. They were as much a part of him as his own heart beat.
Dale pressed one slender hand to the side of his head, as if willing the voices to silence by sheer force alone. And when he opened his eyes, they were fathomless black.
Dale pressed one slender hand to the side of his head, as if willing the voices to silence by sheer force alone. And when he opened his eyes, they were fathomless black.
Beth
Her skin was almost translucently pale; her hands thin and spidery, and she shivered in the stiff January wind that blew off of the ocean. 'Time's getting short,' she thought, and it wasn't just the sinking sun that crossed her mind. Eyes, the same color as the waves stared off into the distance; watching waves merge into horizon.
Beth wrapped her arms around herself and pulled her stocking cap closer about her bare head, the wind seemed to cut right through her as if she wasn't even there. Pretty soon she wouldn't be.
Soon enough, only the wind would remain.
Beth wrapped her arms around herself and pulled her stocking cap closer about her bare head, the wind seemed to cut right through her as if she wasn't even there. Pretty soon she wouldn't be.
Soon enough, only the wind would remain.
Jelly
'How cliche,' she thought and rolled her eyes in self derision; but it was true never the less, that every time he looked at her she felt her legs turn to jelly. It was hard to focus and stand up straight. She hated to think of her reaction if he ever actually touched her. She was certain it would be more like water than jelly.
Impassive
Masses of shaggy blond hair obscured bright blue eyes; set in a face that seemed to be cut from stone. Intensely focused on a computer screen, his fingers flew like lightning as rows upon rows of coding filled the monitor, bypassing all of the buildings security. A grim smile flitted across his otherwise impassive face as he initiated his program.
Sirens began wailing as all security protocols were negated and doors began opening. Standing slowly, he calmly packed up his equipment and walked out of the building and into the night; as others more accustomed to confrontation, flooded the building.
Sirens began wailing as all security protocols were negated and doors began opening. Standing slowly, he calmly packed up his equipment and walked out of the building and into the night; as others more accustomed to confrontation, flooded the building.
Forgotten
It was late by the time that Sarah and Chris were finished for the night. They had gone from his small dorm room to sitting in a booth at a local restaurant. Chris had suggested dinner after Sarah's stomach let out a loud rumble around seven o'clock.
"I don't know that I can thank you enough for helping me Chris," I said as my fingers absently tore a bread stick to pieces. Chris had read and reread the case file at least a dozen times, and I was sure that he was bored silly by now. "Is there any way that I can make it up to you for stealing your night? I'm sure you had other plans and many things to do today." I really wished that I could see his face. Just a single glimpse to connect to his voice.
"It was my pleasure."
I felt the slightest jostle to my plate and heard Dianne move by my feet. Chris was feeding her my bread.
"What time is it?" I asked. I didn't want the night to be finished, but I did have classes the next day and mom would be worried if I didn't come home soon. She had called at least five times, but I had ignored it.
"About nine-thirty," he said.
"I should go," I muttered with a small frown.
"Can I walk you home?" he asked after a moment.
"I would like that." I could feel a large smile replace the frown.
We stepped out of the restaurant into the cool night and I shivered slightly. Although it was officially still summer, the nights could get a little chilly and I had forgotten my sweater. I hadn't counted on being out after all.
A slight weight settled around my shoulders as Chris draped his jacket around me. I pulled it close with one hand, taking in the smell of it. "Thank you," I said.
We ambled slowly down the road towards my house, Dianne knew the way so I let her lead us. We kept up a slow conversation as we walked; mostly question about like and dislikes, and from time to time I would ask him to describe what he saw. He would always paint a vivid mind-picture of whatever he saw- Crimson flowers and wet grass; each petal and blade sparkling with a recent watering.
I knew when we had reached my house, the wind in the reeds around the porch whistled in the breeze. I turned to Chris, "thank you again Chris. I enjoyed every moment," I said.
His voice smiled when he said, "I enjoyed it too. Let me know if you need help again."
"I will." I offered one hand towards him and he took it. His handshake was firm and steady; slightly calloused too, as if he worked with his hands a lot.
"Have a good night Sarah," He said and he stepped away from me. I heard him walk down the path and down the street and I faintly heard him start to whistle.
It took me a moment to realize that he had forgotten his jacket.
"I don't know that I can thank you enough for helping me Chris," I said as my fingers absently tore a bread stick to pieces. Chris had read and reread the case file at least a dozen times, and I was sure that he was bored silly by now. "Is there any way that I can make it up to you for stealing your night? I'm sure you had other plans and many things to do today." I really wished that I could see his face. Just a single glimpse to connect to his voice.
"It was my pleasure."
I felt the slightest jostle to my plate and heard Dianne move by my feet. Chris was feeding her my bread.
"What time is it?" I asked. I didn't want the night to be finished, but I did have classes the next day and mom would be worried if I didn't come home soon. She had called at least five times, but I had ignored it.
"About nine-thirty," he said.
"I should go," I muttered with a small frown.
"Can I walk you home?" he asked after a moment.
"I would like that." I could feel a large smile replace the frown.
We stepped out of the restaurant into the cool night and I shivered slightly. Although it was officially still summer, the nights could get a little chilly and I had forgotten my sweater. I hadn't counted on being out after all.
A slight weight settled around my shoulders as Chris draped his jacket around me. I pulled it close with one hand, taking in the smell of it. "Thank you," I said.
We ambled slowly down the road towards my house, Dianne knew the way so I let her lead us. We kept up a slow conversation as we walked; mostly question about like and dislikes, and from time to time I would ask him to describe what he saw. He would always paint a vivid mind-picture of whatever he saw- Crimson flowers and wet grass; each petal and blade sparkling with a recent watering.
I knew when we had reached my house, the wind in the reeds around the porch whistled in the breeze. I turned to Chris, "thank you again Chris. I enjoyed every moment," I said.
His voice smiled when he said, "I enjoyed it too. Let me know if you need help again."
"I will." I offered one hand towards him and he took it. His handshake was firm and steady; slightly calloused too, as if he worked with his hands a lot.
"Have a good night Sarah," He said and he stepped away from me. I heard him walk down the path and down the street and I faintly heard him start to whistle.
It took me a moment to realize that he had forgotten his jacket.
Little Extra Help
"Please have the case file read and be prepared to discuss it tomorrow in class," Professor Spinelli announced and I felt a stapled sheaf of paper placed in front of me.
I hadn't heard of the case on any of the tapes that I had yet listened to. Maybe it was on one of the next tapes, but I didn't hope overly hard. If it had been in the book then we wouldn't need the handout.
Perfect...
I shuffled my notes into a neat pile and placed them in my bag along with the packet of papers. Dianne was already on her feet, anticipating the walk to the library; which is where I would usually go after this class was finished.
"Office," I commanded her as soon as we were out the door of the lecture hall. After a moments pause, instead of leading me left she turned to the right.
53...54...55...56...curve to the right... up the stairs.
I was only distantly aware of keeping count of steps and direction in the back of my mind, my predominant thoughts resting on my problem as I walked towards Joyce's office.
***************
"Well hello Darlin," Joyce said as the door to the office swung closed silently behind me. I could hear the smile in her voice, "what can I help you with? It's not your usual pick up day."
"I have a bit of a problem," I said and leaned on the counter, "Professor Spinelli gave us an additional case to read and I didn't know if it was by any chance on tape somewhere." I handed her the case file.
"Hmm, I don't believe so my dear," she said, "in fact I'm almost positive that it's not on tape."
I knew that it had been a long shot, "I guess I'll figure something out," I said and turned to head home. Maybe I could get my mother to read it to me.
"Wait," she called as my hand hit the door handle, "what about the boy that reads for you. You might be able to have him read it to you a few times."
"He's probably busy," I mumbled, but I couldn't squash the little bit of excitement at the thought of meeting the man who read for me, "and I don't know his name, or where to find him."
"It can't hurt to ask," she said brightly, "His name is Chris Hensley, and he lives over in the dorms." She gave me his building and room number.
"Okay," I said and gave a little smile. I hoped I wasn't blushing.
**********************
After a little confusion in getting Dianne to go where I wanted I finally found myself on the proper floor in front of the right door; after asking a few people to direct me.
After a moments hesitation I knocked firmly on the door. The thin wood was no barrier against the squeak of furniture and a growl of irritation that I could hear from behind the closed door.
"Maybe this wasn't the best idea," I whispered to Dianne.
The door was pulled open quickly and I heard Chris's voice say, “Look, Eric’s not here, and I’m not going to keep giving you his stuff --” The irritation in his voice was very evident.
“I don’t know who Eric is," I said. I was pretty certain now that this was not a good idea.
"Hi,” Chris said. I wasn't quite certain of the emotion in his voice with that one short word.
“I think you have the wrong room," he said. I couldn't help loving the sound of his voice, of feeling like he was a friend. "One floor up or one floor down - those are both girls’ halls,” he said.
“I’m looking for Chris Hensley,” I said, even though I knew that was who I was talking to.
“That’s me,” he said.
“I knew as soon as you spoke,” I said and could have smacked myself for blurting that out. Instead I reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I listen to your voice all the time.” I could feel myself blushing.
"You do?" he asked. I wasn't sure if it was surprise or something else that colored his tone.
“Yeah. You read textbooks for me.”
“Oh. Right. What can I do for you?”
My smile faltered just a little at that. I ducked my head; a habit from my seeing days, in an attempt to avoid eye contact. My grip on Dianne's harness tightened in nervousness.
“I didn’t know where else to go. Professor Spinelli handed out an additional case for tomorrow’s reading assignment, one that wasn’t in the book, and it wasn’t on the tape, and when I went to the office, Joyce said maybe you could help me...”
“Of course,” Chris said. “Do you have the case with you?”
I nodded. “It’s in my bag. I’m really sorry - I can come back later if it’s a more convenient time for you."
“Now is fine,” Chris said, "my roommate’s out but why don’t you come in and have a seat?”
"Thanks," I said and stepped past him into the room, catching a hint of sweat and some aftershave that was quite appealing. Dianne lead me to a chair. He didn't close the door and I nodded slightly in approval.
I heard the bed squeak just to my left, close enough that I could almost feel him.
“All right. What have you got for me?” he asked
Was it excitement or something else in his voice now? I was so used to listening to him reading dry legal texts that I wasn't used to hearing his emotions. I was uncertain and I didn't like that.
I reached into my bag and pulled out the briefing that was handed out in class.
“Here,” I said. “Will you read to me?”
He took the papers from my hand, "sure," he said.
I smiled at him, "Thanks."
I hadn't heard of the case on any of the tapes that I had yet listened to. Maybe it was on one of the next tapes, but I didn't hope overly hard. If it had been in the book then we wouldn't need the handout.
Perfect...
I shuffled my notes into a neat pile and placed them in my bag along with the packet of papers. Dianne was already on her feet, anticipating the walk to the library; which is where I would usually go after this class was finished.
"Office," I commanded her as soon as we were out the door of the lecture hall. After a moments pause, instead of leading me left she turned to the right.
53...54...55...56...curve to the right... up the stairs.
I was only distantly aware of keeping count of steps and direction in the back of my mind, my predominant thoughts resting on my problem as I walked towards Joyce's office.
***************
"Well hello Darlin," Joyce said as the door to the office swung closed silently behind me. I could hear the smile in her voice, "what can I help you with? It's not your usual pick up day."
"I have a bit of a problem," I said and leaned on the counter, "Professor Spinelli gave us an additional case to read and I didn't know if it was by any chance on tape somewhere." I handed her the case file.
"Hmm, I don't believe so my dear," she said, "in fact I'm almost positive that it's not on tape."
I knew that it had been a long shot, "I guess I'll figure something out," I said and turned to head home. Maybe I could get my mother to read it to me.
"Wait," she called as my hand hit the door handle, "what about the boy that reads for you. You might be able to have him read it to you a few times."
"He's probably busy," I mumbled, but I couldn't squash the little bit of excitement at the thought of meeting the man who read for me, "and I don't know his name, or where to find him."
"It can't hurt to ask," she said brightly, "His name is Chris Hensley, and he lives over in the dorms." She gave me his building and room number.
"Okay," I said and gave a little smile. I hoped I wasn't blushing.
**********************
After a little confusion in getting Dianne to go where I wanted I finally found myself on the proper floor in front of the right door; after asking a few people to direct me.
After a moments hesitation I knocked firmly on the door. The thin wood was no barrier against the squeak of furniture and a growl of irritation that I could hear from behind the closed door.
"Maybe this wasn't the best idea," I whispered to Dianne.
The door was pulled open quickly and I heard Chris's voice say, “Look, Eric’s not here, and I’m not going to keep giving you his stuff --” The irritation in his voice was very evident.
“I don’t know who Eric is," I said. I was pretty certain now that this was not a good idea.
"Hi,” Chris said. I wasn't quite certain of the emotion in his voice with that one short word.
“I think you have the wrong room," he said. I couldn't help loving the sound of his voice, of feeling like he was a friend. "One floor up or one floor down - those are both girls’ halls,” he said.
“I’m looking for Chris Hensley,” I said, even though I knew that was who I was talking to.
“That’s me,” he said.
“I knew as soon as you spoke,” I said and could have smacked myself for blurting that out. Instead I reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I listen to your voice all the time.” I could feel myself blushing.
"You do?" he asked. I wasn't sure if it was surprise or something else that colored his tone.
“Yeah. You read textbooks for me.”
“Oh. Right. What can I do for you?”
My smile faltered just a little at that. I ducked my head; a habit from my seeing days, in an attempt to avoid eye contact. My grip on Dianne's harness tightened in nervousness.
“I didn’t know where else to go. Professor Spinelli handed out an additional case for tomorrow’s reading assignment, one that wasn’t in the book, and it wasn’t on the tape, and when I went to the office, Joyce said maybe you could help me...”
“Of course,” Chris said. “Do you have the case with you?”
I nodded. “It’s in my bag. I’m really sorry - I can come back later if it’s a more convenient time for you."
“Now is fine,” Chris said, "my roommate’s out but why don’t you come in and have a seat?”
"Thanks," I said and stepped past him into the room, catching a hint of sweat and some aftershave that was quite appealing. Dianne lead me to a chair. He didn't close the door and I nodded slightly in approval.
I heard the bed squeak just to my left, close enough that I could almost feel him.
“All right. What have you got for me?” he asked
Was it excitement or something else in his voice now? I was so used to listening to him reading dry legal texts that I wasn't used to hearing his emotions. I was uncertain and I didn't like that.
I reached into my bag and pulled out the briefing that was handed out in class.
“Here,” I said. “Will you read to me?”
He took the papers from my hand, "sure," he said.
I smiled at him, "Thanks."
Stranger in his own Space
Chris had just been about to peel off his shirt and check for cracked ribs - Dan had definitely broken skin today, and there was another unsalvageable shirt down the drain - when there was another knock at the door. Chris growled and heaved himself off his bed. If it was Eric’s lab partner, back for yet another notebook, Chris was going to throttle the kid.
“Look,” he said, “Eric’s not here, and I’m not going to keep giving you his stuff --”
“I don’t know who Eric is.” Sarah stood in the doorway, mouth pressed into an uncertain line. Dianne sat obediently beside her.
“...Hi.” Chris was careful not to say her name; as far as she was concerned, he had no reason to know her name. “I think you have the wrong room. One floor up or one floor down - those are both girls’ halls.”
“I’m looking for Chris Hensley,” she said.
“That’s me,” Chris said. How did she know his full name?
“I knew as soon as you spoke,” she said, and she reached up, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I listen to your voice all the time.” Then she blushed.
“You do?” Chris asked stupidly.
“Yeah. You read textbooks for me.”
“Oh. Right. What can I do for you?”
Sarah ducked her head. “I didn’t know where else to go. Professor Spinelli handed out an additional case for tomorrow’s reading assignment, one that wasn’t in the book, and it wasn’t on the tape, and when I went to the office, Joyce said maybe you could help me --” Her grip on Dianne’s harness was white-knuckled.
“Of course,” Chris said. “Do you have the case with you?”
Sarah nodded. “It’s in my bag. I’m really sorry - I can come back later if it’s more convenient --”
“Now is fine,” Chris said, and he wanted to kick himself. He sounded too eager, didn’t he? “My roommate’s out. Why don’t you come in and have a seat?”
“Thanks.” Sarah stepped over the threshold into Chris’s room, let Dianne lead her over to the desk, and then she sat down in Chris’s chair. He went to close the door behind her, then thought better of it.
And then he panicked. His picture of her was right there over his desk for anyone to see -- expect her. Right.
He perched tentatively on the edge of his bed, close to her, and he hadn’t felt like a stranger in his own room since he was a child.
“All right. What have you got for me?”
Sarah reached into her book bag, searching with deft hands. It was a touch uncanny, the way she felt without turning her head toward her bag. She handed Chris stack of papers stapled together in one corner.
“Here,” she said. “Will you read to me?”
Chris accepted the paper gingerly. “Sure,” he said.
And she smiled at him. “Thanks.”
(Written by Nagi)
“Look,” he said, “Eric’s not here, and I’m not going to keep giving you his stuff --”
“I don’t know who Eric is.” Sarah stood in the doorway, mouth pressed into an uncertain line. Dianne sat obediently beside her.
“...Hi.” Chris was careful not to say her name; as far as she was concerned, he had no reason to know her name. “I think you have the wrong room. One floor up or one floor down - those are both girls’ halls.”
“I’m looking for Chris Hensley,” she said.
“That’s me,” Chris said. How did she know his full name?
“I knew as soon as you spoke,” she said, and she reached up, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I listen to your voice all the time.” Then she blushed.
“You do?” Chris asked stupidly.
“Yeah. You read textbooks for me.”
“Oh. Right. What can I do for you?”
Sarah ducked her head. “I didn’t know where else to go. Professor Spinelli handed out an additional case for tomorrow’s reading assignment, one that wasn’t in the book, and it wasn’t on the tape, and when I went to the office, Joyce said maybe you could help me --” Her grip on Dianne’s harness was white-knuckled.
“Of course,” Chris said. “Do you have the case with you?”
Sarah nodded. “It’s in my bag. I’m really sorry - I can come back later if it’s more convenient --”
“Now is fine,” Chris said, and he wanted to kick himself. He sounded too eager, didn’t he? “My roommate’s out. Why don’t you come in and have a seat?”
“Thanks.” Sarah stepped over the threshold into Chris’s room, let Dianne lead her over to the desk, and then she sat down in Chris’s chair. He went to close the door behind her, then thought better of it.
And then he panicked. His picture of her was right there over his desk for anyone to see -- expect her. Right.
He perched tentatively on the edge of his bed, close to her, and he hadn’t felt like a stranger in his own room since he was a child.
“All right. What have you got for me?”
Sarah reached into her book bag, searching with deft hands. It was a touch uncanny, the way she felt without turning her head toward her bag. She handed Chris stack of papers stapled together in one corner.
“Here,” she said. “Will you read to me?”
Chris accepted the paper gingerly. “Sure,” he said.
And she smiled at him. “Thanks.”
(Written by Nagi)
Action After Hours
Chris tugged his hoodie up to shield his face - his black eye was painful and obvious, and even the ever-oblivious Eric would ask questions. He jammed his hands into the pockets and started toward the park. He’d deal with the bloody sports tape later.
And then he saw Sarah and Dianne walking along the pavement ahead of him. What was she doing out this late? Blind people weren’t at the same disadvantage at night as seeing people, but campus was downtown, and it wasn’t safe for her, not when - not when a guy like Blake was leaning under a lamppost, drinking from a hip flask and eyeing Sarah like she was his next meal. Chris’s hands curled into fists.
Blake arched an eyebrow when he noticed Sarah’s cane, and he stuck a foot out, kicked a tiny pebble. Sarah jumped, tugged on Dianne’s harness, and Dianne paused obediently.
Something akin to fear crossed Sarah’s face. "Let's go," she said.
Blake peeled himself away from the lamppost and fell into step behind her. Chris automatically ducked back into the shadows; Blake hadn’t seen him yet.
Dianne, on the other hand, had noticed Blake, and she growled. Chris saw Sarah flinch. She called out, “Who’s there?” and then Dianne snarled.
"Hey sugar.” Blake stepped up behind Sarah, and his grin went from amused to dangerous.
Sarah’s shoulders tightened, and she shifted away from him, almost imperceptibly.
"Now don't be like that honey,” Blake drawled. "Tell Fido to calm down and we can get to know each other."
"I don't think that I want to get to know you.” Sarah’s words were bold, but even Chris could tell she was afraid.
Blake raised his eyebrows, circled her like a shark eyeing a fish separated from its shining school. He chuckled when Dianne snarled again, hunkered down in front of Sarah with her fur standing on end.
Blake reached into his jacket, and Chris remembered that Blake liked to keep a butterfly blade on hand; he thought he looked hardcore because he could flip it open like a 1950’s greaser.
Chris stepped forward, into the wan yellow glow of a streetlight. “Leave the woman alone, why don’t you?”
Blake blinked and took a step back from Sarah. “This doesn’t concern you.”
"Clearly she doesn't want to have anything to do with you,” Chris said, moving closer to Sarah, “and the best thing for you to do would be to go away and leave her alone.”
"And what if I don't?" Blake looked Chris up and down, smirking disdainfully.
Chris tugged back his hood. "Then I will just have to make you.”
Blake laughed, spread his arms wide. "Bring it on!"
After twelve years of bare-knuckle boxing, a guy like Blake was an easy match. He was strong, but he wasn’t as fast as he thought he was, and he lacked the necessary form to hit very hard. Chris had to duck and weave to avoid Blake’s knife, but he landed a solid uppercut that sent Blake sprawling. Once he was sure Blake was unconscious, he turned to find Sarah, who was huddled beside Dianne and shaking like a leaf.
"Are you all right?" Chris stood beside her, unsure of whether to hunker down beside her or just keep standing. Was he looming?
Sarah nodded, though she kept her face buried in Dianne’s fur.
Chris offered a hand even though she couldn’t see the gesture. "Can I help you?"
A sound half like laughter, half like a sob spilled from Sarah. “I think you already did.”
Chris glanced back to where Blake was lying on the pavement; he wasn’t sure he’d been that much help. "Can I walk you home? Just to make sure you get there safe. You shouldn't walk alone at this time of night."
“Yes.” Sarah patted Dianne gently, and Chris realized that Dianne hadn’t growled at him once.
“I would be grateful,” Sarah added. “This way.”
Chris actually knew where she lived by virtue of having seen her paperwork in the office, but he walked beside her anyway, letting her interject directions into his long ramble about Kierkegaard. He knew she was shaken, that she wouldn’t say more, but he was sure that if she said too much she would recognize his voice, and then what could he possibly say?
Maybe he could tell her how much he liked her.
(Written by Nagi)
And then he saw Sarah and Dianne walking along the pavement ahead of him. What was she doing out this late? Blind people weren’t at the same disadvantage at night as seeing people, but campus was downtown, and it wasn’t safe for her, not when - not when a guy like Blake was leaning under a lamppost, drinking from a hip flask and eyeing Sarah like she was his next meal. Chris’s hands curled into fists.
Blake arched an eyebrow when he noticed Sarah’s cane, and he stuck a foot out, kicked a tiny pebble. Sarah jumped, tugged on Dianne’s harness, and Dianne paused obediently.
Something akin to fear crossed Sarah’s face. "Let's go," she said.
Blake peeled himself away from the lamppost and fell into step behind her. Chris automatically ducked back into the shadows; Blake hadn’t seen him yet.
Dianne, on the other hand, had noticed Blake, and she growled. Chris saw Sarah flinch. She called out, “Who’s there?” and then Dianne snarled.
"Hey sugar.” Blake stepped up behind Sarah, and his grin went from amused to dangerous.
Sarah’s shoulders tightened, and she shifted away from him, almost imperceptibly.
"Now don't be like that honey,” Blake drawled. "Tell Fido to calm down and we can get to know each other."
"I don't think that I want to get to know you.” Sarah’s words were bold, but even Chris could tell she was afraid.
Blake raised his eyebrows, circled her like a shark eyeing a fish separated from its shining school. He chuckled when Dianne snarled again, hunkered down in front of Sarah with her fur standing on end.
Blake reached into his jacket, and Chris remembered that Blake liked to keep a butterfly blade on hand; he thought he looked hardcore because he could flip it open like a 1950’s greaser.
Chris stepped forward, into the wan yellow glow of a streetlight. “Leave the woman alone, why don’t you?”
Blake blinked and took a step back from Sarah. “This doesn’t concern you.”
"Clearly she doesn't want to have anything to do with you,” Chris said, moving closer to Sarah, “and the best thing for you to do would be to go away and leave her alone.”
"And what if I don't?" Blake looked Chris up and down, smirking disdainfully.
Chris tugged back his hood. "Then I will just have to make you.”
Blake laughed, spread his arms wide. "Bring it on!"
After twelve years of bare-knuckle boxing, a guy like Blake was an easy match. He was strong, but he wasn’t as fast as he thought he was, and he lacked the necessary form to hit very hard. Chris had to duck and weave to avoid Blake’s knife, but he landed a solid uppercut that sent Blake sprawling. Once he was sure Blake was unconscious, he turned to find Sarah, who was huddled beside Dianne and shaking like a leaf.
"Are you all right?" Chris stood beside her, unsure of whether to hunker down beside her or just keep standing. Was he looming?
Sarah nodded, though she kept her face buried in Dianne’s fur.
Chris offered a hand even though she couldn’t see the gesture. "Can I help you?"
A sound half like laughter, half like a sob spilled from Sarah. “I think you already did.”
Chris glanced back to where Blake was lying on the pavement; he wasn’t sure he’d been that much help. "Can I walk you home? Just to make sure you get there safe. You shouldn't walk alone at this time of night."
“Yes.” Sarah patted Dianne gently, and Chris realized that Dianne hadn’t growled at him once.
“I would be grateful,” Sarah added. “This way.”
Chris actually knew where she lived by virtue of having seen her paperwork in the office, but he walked beside her anyway, letting her interject directions into his long ramble about Kierkegaard. He knew she was shaken, that she wouldn’t say more, but he was sure that if she said too much she would recognize his voice, and then what could he possibly say?
Maybe he could tell her how much he liked her.
(Written by Nagi)
Help in the Night
"The time is 11:47 p.m."
A click resounded over the line and I knew I was going to be in trouble. Mom was going to kill me. I slammed shut my text books and stuffed them into my bag. "Come Dianne," I said. I grasped the handle to her harness and commanded, "home."
Dianne immediately started to lead me and we left the Library. I hurried down the steps of the campus Law building as safely as was possible. I could feel the cool night air whisper across my cheek as I picked up the pace. "I can't believe that I let myself lose track of time like that," I muttered. It sounded much different outside now than it usually did; much quieter. I couldn't hear many people around me and the traffic was faint and far away.
I was passing the park when I heard a rock clatter against the pavement, causing me to jump. I pulled Dianne to a stop for a second, listening. I heard nothing.
"Let's go," I urged my companion. A few moments later I was certain that I heard faint footstep behind me and I quickened my pace again.
The vibrations from Dianne's growl reached my hand just after the sound reached my ears. "Who's there?" I asked. I knew it was stupid, but it somehow made me feel better to hear my own voice. As unsteady as it was.
Dianne let out a snarl and I could feel that tingle that let me know that someone was nearby.
"Hey sugar," an oily voice came to me from close by.
I flinched away from the voice.
"Now don't be like that honey." There was faint amusement in the voice now, "tell Fido to calm down and we can get to know each other."
I cleared my throat, "I don't think that I want to get to know you," I said in the strongest voice I could bring up; though even to my own ears it sounded pathetically weak and jittery.
He chuckled from to my right and I could tell that he was circling me. Dianne moved with him, keeping herself between me and Oily. I jumped again when she let out a particularly vicious snarl.
"Leave the woman alone why don't you," a new voice broke in.
"This doesn't concern you," Oily said, though I could tell that he had stepped back a little.
"Clearly she doesn't want to have anything to do with you and the best thing for you to do would be to go away and leave her alone," he said. His tone was deep and carried a strong and soothing quality; a tone of command. Whoever he was, his voice was enough to make me feel safe at the moment.
"And what if I don't?" Oily taunted. He was moving away from me towards the other man.
"Then I will just have to make you," he said.
Oily laughed, "Bring it on!"
I went to my knees and buried my face in Dianne's neck when I heard the first blows, seeking comfort and trying my best to not hear what happened. I covered my ears, but I could still hear the sickening sound of flesh on flesh and the grunts of pain.
A few moments later there was nothing but the sound of heavy breathing nearby. I didn't know who had won the fight.
Dianne growled and I hugged her tighter, fearing the worst. That Oily had won and the strong voiced man had lost the fight and he was coming for me.
"Are you alright?" the strong voiced man asked.
Relief flooded through me at the sound of his voice. I nodded my head mutely, to shaken to say anything.
"Can I help you?" he asked gently.
A relieved laugh burbled up in my throat, "I think you already did," I said. I slowly released Dianne and stood up shakily.
"Can I walk you home?" he asked, "just to make sure you get there safe. You shouldn't walk alone at this time of night."
"Yes," I said and ran a soothing hand over Dianne to calm her, "I would be grateful."
As we moved in the direction of my home he kept up a soothing line of commentary. I didn't really listen to what he said, I just focused on the sound of his voice.
It seemed so familiar...
A click resounded over the line and I knew I was going to be in trouble. Mom was going to kill me. I slammed shut my text books and stuffed them into my bag. "Come Dianne," I said. I grasped the handle to her harness and commanded, "home."
Dianne immediately started to lead me and we left the Library. I hurried down the steps of the campus Law building as safely as was possible. I could feel the cool night air whisper across my cheek as I picked up the pace. "I can't believe that I let myself lose track of time like that," I muttered. It sounded much different outside now than it usually did; much quieter. I couldn't hear many people around me and the traffic was faint and far away.
I was passing the park when I heard a rock clatter against the pavement, causing me to jump. I pulled Dianne to a stop for a second, listening. I heard nothing.
"Let's go," I urged my companion. A few moments later I was certain that I heard faint footstep behind me and I quickened my pace again.
The vibrations from Dianne's growl reached my hand just after the sound reached my ears. "Who's there?" I asked. I knew it was stupid, but it somehow made me feel better to hear my own voice. As unsteady as it was.
Dianne let out a snarl and I could feel that tingle that let me know that someone was nearby.
"Hey sugar," an oily voice came to me from close by.
I flinched away from the voice.
"Now don't be like that honey." There was faint amusement in the voice now, "tell Fido to calm down and we can get to know each other."
I cleared my throat, "I don't think that I want to get to know you," I said in the strongest voice I could bring up; though even to my own ears it sounded pathetically weak and jittery.
He chuckled from to my right and I could tell that he was circling me. Dianne moved with him, keeping herself between me and Oily. I jumped again when she let out a particularly vicious snarl.
"Leave the woman alone why don't you," a new voice broke in.
"This doesn't concern you," Oily said, though I could tell that he had stepped back a little.
"Clearly she doesn't want to have anything to do with you and the best thing for you to do would be to go away and leave her alone," he said. His tone was deep and carried a strong and soothing quality; a tone of command. Whoever he was, his voice was enough to make me feel safe at the moment.
"And what if I don't?" Oily taunted. He was moving away from me towards the other man.
"Then I will just have to make you," he said.
Oily laughed, "Bring it on!"
I went to my knees and buried my face in Dianne's neck when I heard the first blows, seeking comfort and trying my best to not hear what happened. I covered my ears, but I could still hear the sickening sound of flesh on flesh and the grunts of pain.
A few moments later there was nothing but the sound of heavy breathing nearby. I didn't know who had won the fight.
Dianne growled and I hugged her tighter, fearing the worst. That Oily had won and the strong voiced man had lost the fight and he was coming for me.
"Are you alright?" the strong voiced man asked.
Relief flooded through me at the sound of his voice. I nodded my head mutely, to shaken to say anything.
"Can I help you?" he asked gently.
A relieved laugh burbled up in my throat, "I think you already did," I said. I slowly released Dianne and stood up shakily.
"Can I walk you home?" he asked, "just to make sure you get there safe. You shouldn't walk alone at this time of night."
"Yes," I said and ran a soothing hand over Dianne to calm her, "I would be grateful."
As we moved in the direction of my home he kept up a soothing line of commentary. I didn't really listen to what he said, I just focused on the sound of his voice.
It seemed so familiar...
Hear and Listen
"Are you sure you lead me right?" I asked Dianne when we stopped in front of a door. She let out a huff as if offended that I might doubt her.
"I really hope they have the books I need on audio. It would be so much quicker than trying to read them in braille," I said and laughed as I patted her on the head. Here I was talking to my dog as if she could talk back. I must be losing it.
I greeted Joyce as I stepped through the door and waited my turn to be helped. I shifted my heavy binder to my other arm as I listened to the conversations around me. It was interesting how much I could pick up about people without knowing them. Just from what they say and how they say it. The difference between hearing and listening.
"Sarah," Joyce exclaimed when it was my turn; I smiled at her lilting accent, "what can I do for you?"
"Do you have any of the pre-law textbooks on audio? It's just that it takes me so long to read anything in braille. I've only been blind for about ten months," I explained.
"Oh my dear, I had no idea that it was so recent!" Joyce sympathized, "let me see what I can find. I'm pretty sure we have some somewhere."
I stroked Dianne on the head, lost in my own thoughts. I felt the tingle that told me that someone was near just before Dianne barked loudly.
"Sorry," A voice said from behind me.
I turned toward him and gently tapped Dianne on the head, “Dianne, no barking at strangers,” I said. I smiled in the man's direction, “I apologize - sometimes she’s a little overprotective, thinks people are threats when they aren’t," I said. I wasn't quite certain that he wasn't a threat, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
"I didn't mean to make her nervous," he said.
Something in his voice struck me as familiar. I tilted my head to one side, listening, hoping he would speak again so that I could place his voice.
Joyce chose then to return. “I have an old recording of some of the pre-law books to get you started, but we haven’t had anyone record the new editions yet. As soon as we get new recordings in, we’ll let you know," she said.
I nodded my head; accepted the recordings and turned back to the door, "thank you very much," I said," I knew it was a little much to hope that the recordings were current, but it was a hope all the same.
I clicked my tongue at Dianne and I felt her jump to her feet, "let's go girl," I said and let her lead me down the hall. I hoped that the recordings were current enough to get me through my tests until someone read the new versions.
I let my mind wander as Dianne lead me through the maze of halls towards my next class. I puzzled about the voice. It seemed like I should be able to place it, but I couldn't. It was like I had heard it in a dream, or it was a voice I met in passing.
I shrugged it off and clicked at Dianne, "come on," I said, "we have to get to class."
"I really hope they have the books I need on audio. It would be so much quicker than trying to read them in braille," I said and laughed as I patted her on the head. Here I was talking to my dog as if she could talk back. I must be losing it.
I greeted Joyce as I stepped through the door and waited my turn to be helped. I shifted my heavy binder to my other arm as I listened to the conversations around me. It was interesting how much I could pick up about people without knowing them. Just from what they say and how they say it. The difference between hearing and listening.
"Sarah," Joyce exclaimed when it was my turn; I smiled at her lilting accent, "what can I do for you?"
"Do you have any of the pre-law textbooks on audio? It's just that it takes me so long to read anything in braille. I've only been blind for about ten months," I explained.
"Oh my dear, I had no idea that it was so recent!" Joyce sympathized, "let me see what I can find. I'm pretty sure we have some somewhere."
I stroked Dianne on the head, lost in my own thoughts. I felt the tingle that told me that someone was near just before Dianne barked loudly.
"Sorry," A voice said from behind me.
I turned toward him and gently tapped Dianne on the head, “Dianne, no barking at strangers,” I said. I smiled in the man's direction, “I apologize - sometimes she’s a little overprotective, thinks people are threats when they aren’t," I said. I wasn't quite certain that he wasn't a threat, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
"I didn't mean to make her nervous," he said.
Something in his voice struck me as familiar. I tilted my head to one side, listening, hoping he would speak again so that I could place his voice.
Joyce chose then to return. “I have an old recording of some of the pre-law books to get you started, but we haven’t had anyone record the new editions yet. As soon as we get new recordings in, we’ll let you know," she said.
I nodded my head; accepted the recordings and turned back to the door, "thank you very much," I said," I knew it was a little much to hope that the recordings were current, but it was a hope all the same.
I clicked my tongue at Dianne and I felt her jump to her feet, "let's go girl," I said and let her lead me down the hall. I hoped that the recordings were current enough to get me through my tests until someone read the new versions.
I let my mind wander as Dianne lead me through the maze of halls towards my next class. I puzzled about the voice. It seemed like I should be able to place it, but I couldn't. It was like I had heard it in a dream, or it was a voice I met in passing.
I shrugged it off and clicked at Dianne, "come on," I said, "we have to get to class."
Law and History
“Did you see that last night? That was pretty rockin’ awesome,” Evan said.
“What was awesome?” Chris asked distractedly. He had his head down and his hood up, his black eye concealed behind a pair of too-large sunglasses.
“The big boxing match for Campus Fight Night on YouTube.” Evan paused, waved at one of his friends.
Chris followed Evan’s gaze, and his heart caught in his throat. Sarah was lingering near the doorway of the Student Services Office, Dianne sitting obediently at her feet.
“Yeah,” Chris said. “Awesome.”
“Whoever that blond dude is, he’s pretty good,” Evan went on. “When I first saw him, he looked kinda like a chump. I mean, obviously I didn’t get a good look at his face, but he seemed like every idiot pretty boy. Bet he’s the quarterback or something clichéd like that.”
Chris hummed and nodded. “Yeah.” He slunk toward the Student Services Office, lingered a short distance away from Sarah. He had to figure out what classes she was taking so he knew which textbooks to volunteer for, but when he peered at her binder, he saw that it was covered in braille. He wouldn’t be able to read her schedule, then. Crap. Sarah was talking to someone in the office - maybe about her schedule? Chris edged closer, shoulders hunched, head down - which was stupid, because she couldn’t see him - and then Dianne barked loudly, sharply.
Chris jumped.
“Sorry!” he said.
Sarah turned toward him. “Dianne,” she said, “no barking at strangers.” Then she smiled at Chris. “I apologize - sometimes she’s a little overprotective, thinks people are threats when they aren’t.” But there was a note of hesitation in her voice, as if she were assuming he was non-threatening out of politeness.
“I didn’t mean to make her nervous,” Chris said, and Sarah cocked her head to one side, brow furrowed. Did she recognize his voice?
And then someone from within the office said, “I have an old recording of some of the pre-law books to get you started, but we haven’t had anyone record the new editions yet. As soon as we get new recordings in, we’ll let you know.”
Sarah turned back to the door. “Thank you very much,” she said, and she sounded dejected. She clicked her tongue softly, and Dianne was on her feet, alert. “Let’s go, girl.”
Chris watched her go, wanted to call out to her. Instead, he headed into the office.
“Hey.”
The redheaded woman at the desk looked up at him. “How may I help you?”
Chris slid a crumpled application across the desk. “I was looking to be a reader.”
The woman beamed. “Well, that’s lucky, isn’t it?” She had a rolling Irish accent. Joyce, her nametag read. “As it so happens, we need a slew of textbooks read, and soon. What do you feel like, lad, law or history?”
“Law,” Chris said.
(Written by Nagi)
“What was awesome?” Chris asked distractedly. He had his head down and his hood up, his black eye concealed behind a pair of too-large sunglasses.
“The big boxing match for Campus Fight Night on YouTube.” Evan paused, waved at one of his friends.
Chris followed Evan’s gaze, and his heart caught in his throat. Sarah was lingering near the doorway of the Student Services Office, Dianne sitting obediently at her feet.
“Yeah,” Chris said. “Awesome.”
“Whoever that blond dude is, he’s pretty good,” Evan went on. “When I first saw him, he looked kinda like a chump. I mean, obviously I didn’t get a good look at his face, but he seemed like every idiot pretty boy. Bet he’s the quarterback or something clichéd like that.”
Chris hummed and nodded. “Yeah.” He slunk toward the Student Services Office, lingered a short distance away from Sarah. He had to figure out what classes she was taking so he knew which textbooks to volunteer for, but when he peered at her binder, he saw that it was covered in braille. He wouldn’t be able to read her schedule, then. Crap. Sarah was talking to someone in the office - maybe about her schedule? Chris edged closer, shoulders hunched, head down - which was stupid, because she couldn’t see him - and then Dianne barked loudly, sharply.
Chris jumped.
“Sorry!” he said.
Sarah turned toward him. “Dianne,” she said, “no barking at strangers.” Then she smiled at Chris. “I apologize - sometimes she’s a little overprotective, thinks people are threats when they aren’t.” But there was a note of hesitation in her voice, as if she were assuming he was non-threatening out of politeness.
“I didn’t mean to make her nervous,” Chris said, and Sarah cocked her head to one side, brow furrowed. Did she recognize his voice?
And then someone from within the office said, “I have an old recording of some of the pre-law books to get you started, but we haven’t had anyone record the new editions yet. As soon as we get new recordings in, we’ll let you know.”
Sarah turned back to the door. “Thank you very much,” she said, and she sounded dejected. She clicked her tongue softly, and Dianne was on her feet, alert. “Let’s go, girl.”
Chris watched her go, wanted to call out to her. Instead, he headed into the office.
“Hey.”
The redheaded woman at the desk looked up at him. “How may I help you?”
Chris slid a crumpled application across the desk. “I was looking to be a reader.”
The woman beamed. “Well, that’s lucky, isn’t it?” She had a rolling Irish accent. Joyce, her nametag read. “As it so happens, we need a slew of textbooks read, and soon. What do you feel like, lad, law or history?”
“Law,” Chris said.
(Written by Nagi)
Girls and Jobs
Chris stared at the job postings on the cluttered corkboard and wondered how he could possibly make enough money to support his mother while he was in school.
Movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. A girl was walking down the hall, poking her head into every doorway. A dog trotted alongside her. Chris was surprised a dog was allowed indoors, but then he noticed the girl’s cane. Chris watched her wander down the hall toward him, intrigued by how graceful and sure her movements were. She walked delicately, like a dancer; she had glossy dark hair, flawless pale skin...and Chris’s mental track was starting to sound like a trashy teen romance novel.
She stopped at the empty Career Office and poked her head in.
"Is this the Student Services office?" Her voice was low for a girl’s, husky, made Chris’s pulse trip erratically.
His voice lodged in his throat. He panicked. "No, but I can show you where it is."
"Thank you!" She stepped out of the doorway and turned to face him, and she smiled.
Chris felt himself begin to fall; his head was swimming; he couldn’t think straight. "It's easy to get lost around here.”
The girl patted her dog on the head; it gazed up at him with big, he suspected distrustful, dark eyes.
Chris started toward the Student Services offices, then paused. "Ummm..." How would she know to follow him?
The girl smiled again, the expression sympathetic, which made Chris feel like an idiot.
"It's okay," she said. "Just keep talking. Tell me where we’re going and what you see so Dianne can lead me to the office again."
"Okay.” Chris looked down at Dianne and wondered how smart she was. He’d heard pigs were smarter than dogs. "Do you know how you got here?"
She nodded.
“Then from this door, we go left.”
As they walked, Chris described the path, noting some of the landmarks and telling stories about this statue or that hallway. He was rambling, but when he got nervous he couldn’t stop. Dianne trotted along beside them, alert, sniffing here and there.
At last, they reached the office. "And here we are."
"Thank you so much." The girl smiled, and Chris’s heart lurched again.
"No problem. It was nice to meet you..."
"Sarah," she said, and inwardly he crowed. He knew her name!
"I'm Chris," he said. A thrill shivered down his spine when their hands touched.
"Thank you again Chris. Maybe I'll 'see' you around," she said, and stepped into the office. Chris wanted to call out, ask for her phone number, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t get involved with a girl - he needed a job.
He turned away, and then he saw it, a flyer advertising a job for the Student Services Center. They needed someone who would read textbooks on tape for a vision-impaired student. Chris snatched the flyer off the wall and dashed back to his dorm room. It was perfect.
(Written by Nagi)
Movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. A girl was walking down the hall, poking her head into every doorway. A dog trotted alongside her. Chris was surprised a dog was allowed indoors, but then he noticed the girl’s cane. Chris watched her wander down the hall toward him, intrigued by how graceful and sure her movements were. She walked delicately, like a dancer; she had glossy dark hair, flawless pale skin...and Chris’s mental track was starting to sound like a trashy teen romance novel.
She stopped at the empty Career Office and poked her head in.
"Is this the Student Services office?" Her voice was low for a girl’s, husky, made Chris’s pulse trip erratically.
His voice lodged in his throat. He panicked. "No, but I can show you where it is."
"Thank you!" She stepped out of the doorway and turned to face him, and she smiled.
Chris felt himself begin to fall; his head was swimming; he couldn’t think straight. "It's easy to get lost around here.”
The girl patted her dog on the head; it gazed up at him with big, he suspected distrustful, dark eyes.
Chris started toward the Student Services offices, then paused. "Ummm..." How would she know to follow him?
The girl smiled again, the expression sympathetic, which made Chris feel like an idiot.
"It's okay," she said. "Just keep talking. Tell me where we’re going and what you see so Dianne can lead me to the office again."
"Okay.” Chris looked down at Dianne and wondered how smart she was. He’d heard pigs were smarter than dogs. "Do you know how you got here?"
She nodded.
“Then from this door, we go left.”
As they walked, Chris described the path, noting some of the landmarks and telling stories about this statue or that hallway. He was rambling, but when he got nervous he couldn’t stop. Dianne trotted along beside them, alert, sniffing here and there.
At last, they reached the office. "And here we are."
"Thank you so much." The girl smiled, and Chris’s heart lurched again.
"No problem. It was nice to meet you..."
"Sarah," she said, and inwardly he crowed. He knew her name!
"I'm Chris," he said. A thrill shivered down his spine when their hands touched.
"Thank you again Chris. Maybe I'll 'see' you around," she said, and stepped into the office. Chris wanted to call out, ask for her phone number, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t get involved with a girl - he needed a job.
He turned away, and then he saw it, a flyer advertising a job for the Student Services Center. They needed someone who would read textbooks on tape for a vision-impaired student. Chris snatched the flyer off the wall and dashed back to his dorm room. It was perfect.
(Written by Nagi)
'Show' and 'See'
"Will you stop that?"
I can hear the exasperation in my mothers voice and automatically stopped drumming my fingers nervously on the car door. I clenched my hands in my lap to stop them from their twitching.
"What if Dianne forgets her commands?" I ask, "what if I get lost? It's a big campus and I don't know anyone." I try to keep the blatant worry out of my voice but I can hear it creeping in.
"She won't forget," Mom said firmly. "You have been working and training with her for two months now; been all over the campus with her. You will be just fine."
I knew it was useless to voice further concerns and so I said nothing. I remembered back on all the training I had had with Dianne, the months of hard work and building trust with her. She would be my eyes; I had to trust her. It had been difficult for me these past six months; I had always been so independent before the accident that took my sight. Now I was dependent on others.
I was so lost in my own thoughts that I hardly noticed the car slow down and stop. "I'll pick you up here when you're classes are over with for the day," mom said.
I opened the door and slid out, "No," I said, "Dianne and I will walk home. It's not that far and she knows the way."
I opened the back door and Dianne jumped to the ground; taking her place beside me, her warm body pressed against my leg reassuringly. "I'll see you at home," I said and walked away with Dianna.
**********************
"Is this the Student Services office?" I asked as I poked my head in what seemed like the hundredth door in my search for the seldom used office.
"No," a man said, "but I can show you where it is."
"Thank you!" I said and stepped out of the doorway.
"It's easy to get lost around here," he said. I could feel his presence near me, a peculiar sense that told me when someone was close. I patted Dianne on the head; more to reassure myself of her presence than anything.
"Ummm..."
I smiled at his uncertainty. It was clear that he didn't know how to 'show' me the way to the office. "It's okay," I said. "Just keep talking. Tell me where we are going and what you see so that Dianne can lead me to the office again."
"Okay," he said, though I could still hear hesitation and uncertainty in his voice. "Do you know how you got here?" he asked, and I nodded. "then from this door we go left," he said.
I listened to him describe what he saw as we walked along; landmarks that I could ask Dianna to find and she could do it. He had a pleasant voice.
"And here we are," he said. I felt a slight breeze as he opened a door.
"Thank you so much," I said and smiled in his direction.
"No problem," he said. "I was nice to meet you..."
"Sarah," I supplied, and held out my hand to him.
"I'm Chris," he said as he took my hand. His grip was solid. It matched his voice.
"Thank you again Chris. Maybe I'll 'see' you around," I said and smiled before stepping into the office of Student Support Services.
I can hear the exasperation in my mothers voice and automatically stopped drumming my fingers nervously on the car door. I clenched my hands in my lap to stop them from their twitching.
"What if Dianne forgets her commands?" I ask, "what if I get lost? It's a big campus and I don't know anyone." I try to keep the blatant worry out of my voice but I can hear it creeping in.
"She won't forget," Mom said firmly. "You have been working and training with her for two months now; been all over the campus with her. You will be just fine."
I knew it was useless to voice further concerns and so I said nothing. I remembered back on all the training I had had with Dianne, the months of hard work and building trust with her. She would be my eyes; I had to trust her. It had been difficult for me these past six months; I had always been so independent before the accident that took my sight. Now I was dependent on others.
I was so lost in my own thoughts that I hardly noticed the car slow down and stop. "I'll pick you up here when you're classes are over with for the day," mom said.
I opened the door and slid out, "No," I said, "Dianne and I will walk home. It's not that far and she knows the way."
I opened the back door and Dianne jumped to the ground; taking her place beside me, her warm body pressed against my leg reassuringly. "I'll see you at home," I said and walked away with Dianna.
**********************
"Is this the Student Services office?" I asked as I poked my head in what seemed like the hundredth door in my search for the seldom used office.
"No," a man said, "but I can show you where it is."
"Thank you!" I said and stepped out of the doorway.
"It's easy to get lost around here," he said. I could feel his presence near me, a peculiar sense that told me when someone was close. I patted Dianne on the head; more to reassure myself of her presence than anything.
"Ummm..."
I smiled at his uncertainty. It was clear that he didn't know how to 'show' me the way to the office. "It's okay," I said. "Just keep talking. Tell me where we are going and what you see so that Dianne can lead me to the office again."
"Okay," he said, though I could still hear hesitation and uncertainty in his voice. "Do you know how you got here?" he asked, and I nodded. "then from this door we go left," he said.
I listened to him describe what he saw as we walked along; landmarks that I could ask Dianna to find and she could do it. He had a pleasant voice.
"And here we are," he said. I felt a slight breeze as he opened a door.
"Thank you so much," I said and smiled in his direction.
"No problem," he said. "I was nice to meet you..."
"Sarah," I supplied, and held out my hand to him.
"I'm Chris," he said as he took my hand. His grip was solid. It matched his voice.
"Thank you again Chris. Maybe I'll 'see' you around," I said and smiled before stepping into the office of Student Support Services.
Sarah
"Hi Sarah!"
I smiled at the pleasant voice as the door swung shut behind me, "Hi Joyce, how are you today?"
"Well little Ben has the chicken pox, but other than that, life moves along," she said in a rolling Irish accent.
I could almost picture her as she had been described to me; a petite frame sitting behind the desk in the Student Services office, bright green eyes and a wide smile surrounded by short curly red hair and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose.
"I've heard that oatmeal baths help with the itching," I offered as I leaned on the counter. Diana nudged my leg and I reached down to rub her behind the ears with one hand.
"Yes," Joyce agreed, "his Papa is home with him today, and I can just imagine the trouble those two are getting themselves into."
I laughed at the mental image that I got of little Ben and his father running amok through the house. "Well, at least you'll have it over with early," I said by way of consolation.
"Thank heaven," she mock whispered.
I laughed again. Joyce was fun to talk to. "Is Chapter One of the Corporations text ready to go?" I asked. I had to listen to it before the test on Monday.
"Let me check. I'm pretty sure that it is," she said. I listened to her shuffle papers around on the desk and a drawer open and close, pens sliding around inside. "Ah! Here it is," she said, and placed it on the counter so that it touched my elbow.
I dropped my hand and picked up the cassette tape, sliding it into my pocket with a smile. "Thank you Joyce," I said and turned toward the door.
*****
"I'm home!" I called as soon as I shut the front door. By the echoing I could tell that no one was home. I didn't mind; it meant I could be alone for a while.
"Come on Diane, let's get you comfortable and find something to eat," I said as I took off her harness and rubbed her down.
"Yuck! Diane!" I laughed and wiped the saliva from my cheek where she licked me.
We padded towards the kitchen where I filled her food dishes and set my pack on the table. As if on cue, my stomach rumbled as I opened the fridge door and grabbed an apple.
The apple gave way with a satisfying crunch as I moved back to the table. A small study area set up with a tape player waited for me and I slid the new recording into the machine. I felt a smile spread across my face as his voice filled the room.
Corporations: Chapter One...
I had to force myself to concentrate on the information he was reading and not on the smooth rhythm of his voice. It was a steady voice, strong and deep; the tone pure. I was sure that if he sang he would sing Bass.
I tried not to let my mind drift towards wondering about the man behind the voice; a voice I could listen to for hours even if I didn't need to. He made even a dry legal text worth listening to. It was one of the few voices that I would never be able to put a face to, a man I had never met.
A man I could never see.
I smiled at the pleasant voice as the door swung shut behind me, "Hi Joyce, how are you today?"
"Well little Ben has the chicken pox, but other than that, life moves along," she said in a rolling Irish accent.
I could almost picture her as she had been described to me; a petite frame sitting behind the desk in the Student Services office, bright green eyes and a wide smile surrounded by short curly red hair and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose.
"I've heard that oatmeal baths help with the itching," I offered as I leaned on the counter. Diana nudged my leg and I reached down to rub her behind the ears with one hand.
"Yes," Joyce agreed, "his Papa is home with him today, and I can just imagine the trouble those two are getting themselves into."
I laughed at the mental image that I got of little Ben and his father running amok through the house. "Well, at least you'll have it over with early," I said by way of consolation.
"Thank heaven," she mock whispered.
I laughed again. Joyce was fun to talk to. "Is Chapter One of the Corporations text ready to go?" I asked. I had to listen to it before the test on Monday.
"Let me check. I'm pretty sure that it is," she said. I listened to her shuffle papers around on the desk and a drawer open and close, pens sliding around inside. "Ah! Here it is," she said, and placed it on the counter so that it touched my elbow.
I dropped my hand and picked up the cassette tape, sliding it into my pocket with a smile. "Thank you Joyce," I said and turned toward the door.
*****
"I'm home!" I called as soon as I shut the front door. By the echoing I could tell that no one was home. I didn't mind; it meant I could be alone for a while.
"Come on Diane, let's get you comfortable and find something to eat," I said as I took off her harness and rubbed her down.
"Yuck! Diane!" I laughed and wiped the saliva from my cheek where she licked me.
We padded towards the kitchen where I filled her food dishes and set my pack on the table. As if on cue, my stomach rumbled as I opened the fridge door and grabbed an apple.
The apple gave way with a satisfying crunch as I moved back to the table. A small study area set up with a tape player waited for me and I slid the new recording into the machine. I felt a smile spread across my face as his voice filled the room.
Corporations: Chapter One...
I had to force myself to concentrate on the information he was reading and not on the smooth rhythm of his voice. It was a steady voice, strong and deep; the tone pure. I was sure that if he sang he would sing Bass.
I tried not to let my mind drift towards wondering about the man behind the voice; a voice I could listen to for hours even if I didn't need to. He made even a dry legal text worth listening to. It was one of the few voices that I would never be able to put a face to, a man I had never met.
A man I could never see.
Anne and Jane
Sparks jumped from the flint and stone that I held loosely to a small pile of tinder, catching and sputtering in the dark. I held the small flame to the wick of the lantern on the table. And the next, and the next. Soon the room was filled with the soft glow of lamplight, and warmth began radiating through the chilly room; shadows retreating to the far corners.
I worked at the laces of my bodice with numb fingers, pausing occasionally to hold them over an open flame, trying to restore some feeling. I let out a breath of relief when at last the constricting garment gave way and I could breathe easier.
"Mistress, Anne? Do you need any help?"
I thought for a moment before answering, "Alright Jane, come in."
Jane entered the room quietly, almost timidly. She was a small waif of a girl, not more than twelve I would have guessed. Given over to the great houses service by her parents for a pittance of money that I knew would not last a month.
I watched Jane move quietly around the chamber, her eyes downcast, almost fearful of being noticed, yet determined to do her work.
I slipped out of the bodice and the skirt and handed them to Jane who folded them precisely and placed them in the wardrobe. She removed my dressing gown and a soft robe and helped me into them before picking up a brush.
I sank into a low chair and hummed a little with pleasure as I felt the brush move rhythmically through my hair; Jane's soft, child hands, untangling my long black locks before loosely braiding it and tying it off with a ribbon.
Jane placed the warming pan filled with coals from the community fire between the sheets of my bed and turned down the covers. "Will you be needing anything else Mistress Anne?" she asked quietly.
"No Jane, thank you," I said gently and watched her move towards the door.
The little girl remained in my thoughts long after she silently slipped from the room to seek her own bed in a far, cold servants room.
I worked at the laces of my bodice with numb fingers, pausing occasionally to hold them over an open flame, trying to restore some feeling. I let out a breath of relief when at last the constricting garment gave way and I could breathe easier.
"Mistress, Anne? Do you need any help?"
I thought for a moment before answering, "Alright Jane, come in."
Jane entered the room quietly, almost timidly. She was a small waif of a girl, not more than twelve I would have guessed. Given over to the great houses service by her parents for a pittance of money that I knew would not last a month.
I watched Jane move quietly around the chamber, her eyes downcast, almost fearful of being noticed, yet determined to do her work.
I slipped out of the bodice and the skirt and handed them to Jane who folded them precisely and placed them in the wardrobe. She removed my dressing gown and a soft robe and helped me into them before picking up a brush.
I sank into a low chair and hummed a little with pleasure as I felt the brush move rhythmically through my hair; Jane's soft, child hands, untangling my long black locks before loosely braiding it and tying it off with a ribbon.
Jane placed the warming pan filled with coals from the community fire between the sheets of my bed and turned down the covers. "Will you be needing anything else Mistress Anne?" she asked quietly.
"No Jane, thank you," I said gently and watched her move towards the door.
The little girl remained in my thoughts long after she silently slipped from the room to seek her own bed in a far, cold servants room.
Chris, Student
Chris squinted at the italicized font and sighed, raked a hand through his hair in frustration. He reached out and pressed the ‘pause’ button on the recorder and attempted to sound out the words.
“Day-zhoor? Day-zhoor-ay?”
“Talking to yourself again?” his roommate Evan asked.
Chris held up the thick law tome. “How do you pronounce this phrase?” He pointed to de jure.
Evan shrugged. “Not a lawyer, man.” And he went back to his chemistry and punk music.
“Thanks anyway.” Chris tugged his headphones back on and pressed the button to resume recording, continued reading. “ ‘A corporation formed according to legal formalities is a corporation de jure. If a corporation is not formed de jure, it may still be considered a corporation de facto...’”
After a while he got into the rhythm of reading, and he felt the words roll smoothly off his tongue even though he didn’t really understand any of what he was reading. He’d read so many textbooks on so many topics that they started to blur together. But as he read, he gazed at the photograph pinned above his desk, of Sarah and her guide dog, and thought, She doesn’t know I’m alive, but she depends on my voice.
He finished the chapter and stopped the tape, popped it out of the machine and scrawled Corporations, Chapter One on the label. He had to deliver it to the student support center and then get on with his own homework. Maybe, on his way across campus, he would see Sarah and Diane sitting on the grass, basking in the sun, picture-perfect and completely oblivious to it.
Chris scooped up his jacket and headed for the door, and the phone started to ring. Evan was closest, but he continued bobbing his head to his music and balancing chemical equations. Chris sighed and crossed the room, scooped up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Dear, it’s your mother.”
Chris winced. She sounded more frail than usual. “Hi, Mom. What’s going on? What can I do for you?”
“I got a call from the pharmacy again today...”
Of course. The creditors had come calling again. Chris let her words wash over him, making humming noises in all the right places. When she was done, he had to resist the urge to slam the receiver back into place. Then he stared down at his knuckles, red and swollen and scraped raw in several places, and he picked the receiver back up, dialed.
“Hey, Matt? Yeah, it’s Chris. Tell Tony it’s on tonight. I’ll meet him down at The Pit. Yeah, bare knuckles. Bring some sports tape. Put me down three-to-one on me, all right?” He glanced over at Evan, but he was lost in his music.
Good.
He probably wouldn’t notice when Chris came back after midnight with a new black eye. Chris shrugged on his jacket, grabbed the tape, and slipped out the door. He did stupid things for the people he loved.
(Written by Nagi)
“Day-zhoor? Day-zhoor-ay?”
“Talking to yourself again?” his roommate Evan asked.
Chris held up the thick law tome. “How do you pronounce this phrase?” He pointed to de jure.
Evan shrugged. “Not a lawyer, man.” And he went back to his chemistry and punk music.
“Thanks anyway.” Chris tugged his headphones back on and pressed the button to resume recording, continued reading. “ ‘A corporation formed according to legal formalities is a corporation de jure. If a corporation is not formed de jure, it may still be considered a corporation de facto...’”
After a while he got into the rhythm of reading, and he felt the words roll smoothly off his tongue even though he didn’t really understand any of what he was reading. He’d read so many textbooks on so many topics that they started to blur together. But as he read, he gazed at the photograph pinned above his desk, of Sarah and her guide dog, and thought, She doesn’t know I’m alive, but she depends on my voice.
He finished the chapter and stopped the tape, popped it out of the machine and scrawled Corporations, Chapter One on the label. He had to deliver it to the student support center and then get on with his own homework. Maybe, on his way across campus, he would see Sarah and Diane sitting on the grass, basking in the sun, picture-perfect and completely oblivious to it.
Chris scooped up his jacket and headed for the door, and the phone started to ring. Evan was closest, but he continued bobbing his head to his music and balancing chemical equations. Chris sighed and crossed the room, scooped up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Dear, it’s your mother.”
Chris winced. She sounded more frail than usual. “Hi, Mom. What’s going on? What can I do for you?”
“I got a call from the pharmacy again today...”
Of course. The creditors had come calling again. Chris let her words wash over him, making humming noises in all the right places. When she was done, he had to resist the urge to slam the receiver back into place. Then he stared down at his knuckles, red and swollen and scraped raw in several places, and he picked the receiver back up, dialed.
“Hey, Matt? Yeah, it’s Chris. Tell Tony it’s on tonight. I’ll meet him down at The Pit. Yeah, bare knuckles. Bring some sports tape. Put me down three-to-one on me, all right?” He glanced over at Evan, but he was lost in his music.
Good.
He probably wouldn’t notice when Chris came back after midnight with a new black eye. Chris shrugged on his jacket, grabbed the tape, and slipped out the door. He did stupid things for the people he loved.
(Written by Nagi)
Night in the Day
"Sarah."
I raised my head from off of my folded arms when I heard my mother call my name. I knew she couldn't see me unless I sat up, the grass was to long for that. I sighed at the tone in my mothers voice and let my head fall back onto my arms again, content to not be found; if only for a few moments longer. I closed my eyes and let the sun warm my skin to a tingle before turning my face away from the warmth. A light breeze rustled the grass and cooled my skin before passing on to the South.
"Sarah!"
I rolled over in the grass and covered my head with my arms. I knew I couldn't hide for much longer.
"Diane!"
From beside me Diane jumped to all fours and shook herself out. I knew that mom could see her, knew she knew where I was. I drew in a breath and sat up, running my fingers through my hair to dislodge any stray grass that had gotten tangled up in it and stood up.
I felt Diane brush against my leg and I reached out for the harness, gripping the soft foam handle loosely.
"Home. Diana," I said and let her lead me back to the house.
I raised my head from off of my folded arms when I heard my mother call my name. I knew she couldn't see me unless I sat up, the grass was to long for that. I sighed at the tone in my mothers voice and let my head fall back onto my arms again, content to not be found; if only for a few moments longer. I closed my eyes and let the sun warm my skin to a tingle before turning my face away from the warmth. A light breeze rustled the grass and cooled my skin before passing on to the South.
"Sarah!"
I rolled over in the grass and covered my head with my arms. I knew I couldn't hide for much longer.
"Diane!"
From beside me Diane jumped to all fours and shook herself out. I knew that mom could see her, knew she knew where I was. I drew in a breath and sat up, running my fingers through my hair to dislodge any stray grass that had gotten tangled up in it and stood up.
I felt Diane brush against my leg and I reached out for the harness, gripping the soft foam handle loosely.
"Home. Diana," I said and let her lead me back to the house.
Nothing
My name is Shane.
At least that's what they tell me. Anything that came before waking up in the hospital is lost to me. All I can remember is opening my eyes and seeing bright fluorescent lights above my head and hearing a beeping to my left.
I remember taking a deep breath and trying to clear my dry throat; it was scratchy and sore, as if it hadn't been used in a long time.
"Hello?" I called out, and suddenly I was surrounded by many people; some checking machines, and others checking me and asking me questions that I couldn't answer. All I could say was, "I don't know."
It felt like that was all I could say for the longest time. "What's you're name?... I don't know...Where are you from...I don't know... Do you know what happened to you...I don't know..." I felt like a broken record.
After what seemed like forever they all went away; left me to my thoughts; though those were rather blank as well. It was like a soft black wall that I could push against, but I couldn't get through it. Whatever was beyond the wall stayed hidden from me.
I sat in silent thought for a long time, only interrupted when a young woman brought in a few things and placed them in my lap. A wallet, keys, and a few papers.
I flipped open the wallet to reveal the face of a smiling young man; dark brown hair and laughing bright blue eyes. The name read Shane Briarwood. Five foot ten, one hundred and sixty-two pounds. He lived in a city in California.
I set aside the wallet and picked up the keys. It was a simple set of keys. Two brass keys on a ring as well as some type of car key; but to what kind of car I couldn't tell. I set the keys next to the wallet
I next picked up the papers. They were covered in close neat writing, addresses and names. Snatches of poetry, random and unfinished. Nothing was familiar.
"Mr. Briarwood?" a voice said from the door.
I assumed I was being spoken to so I turned my head towards the voice.
"Mr. Briarwood, you had quite an accident. Can you remember what happened?" the doctor said.
I blinked. The name held no recognition for me.
"Mr. Briarwood?"
...Nothing...
At least that's what they tell me. Anything that came before waking up in the hospital is lost to me. All I can remember is opening my eyes and seeing bright fluorescent lights above my head and hearing a beeping to my left.
I remember taking a deep breath and trying to clear my dry throat; it was scratchy and sore, as if it hadn't been used in a long time.
"Hello?" I called out, and suddenly I was surrounded by many people; some checking machines, and others checking me and asking me questions that I couldn't answer. All I could say was, "I don't know."
It felt like that was all I could say for the longest time. "What's you're name?... I don't know...Where are you from...I don't know... Do you know what happened to you...I don't know..." I felt like a broken record.
After what seemed like forever they all went away; left me to my thoughts; though those were rather blank as well. It was like a soft black wall that I could push against, but I couldn't get through it. Whatever was beyond the wall stayed hidden from me.
I sat in silent thought for a long time, only interrupted when a young woman brought in a few things and placed them in my lap. A wallet, keys, and a few papers.
I flipped open the wallet to reveal the face of a smiling young man; dark brown hair and laughing bright blue eyes. The name read Shane Briarwood. Five foot ten, one hundred and sixty-two pounds. He lived in a city in California.
I set aside the wallet and picked up the keys. It was a simple set of keys. Two brass keys on a ring as well as some type of car key; but to what kind of car I couldn't tell. I set the keys next to the wallet
I next picked up the papers. They were covered in close neat writing, addresses and names. Snatches of poetry, random and unfinished. Nothing was familiar.
"Mr. Briarwood?" a voice said from the door.
I assumed I was being spoken to so I turned my head towards the voice.
"Mr. Briarwood, you had quite an accident. Can you remember what happened?" the doctor said.
I blinked. The name held no recognition for me.
"Mr. Briarwood?"
...Nothing...
Summer Rounds
Like burning shades of golden twine;
We dance in summer rounds.
An emerald sea beneath our feet
Whispers, as the sun goes down.
Azure mantle round our heads,
Pearl white clouds our crown.
Diamond stars to kiss our brows
As ebony night enshrouds the land.
We dance in summer rounds.
An emerald sea beneath our feet
Whispers, as the sun goes down.
Azure mantle round our heads,
Pearl white clouds our crown.
Diamond stars to kiss our brows
As ebony night enshrouds the land.
I'm Bryan
Bryan straitened his tie nervously as he tapped Amanda on the shoulder. The dance was in full swing and he had been watching her for a few minutes from across the room. He swallowed in awe as Amanda turned to face him. She was in a floor length burgundy gown, a simple flowing design that accented her figure perfectly; her hair was curled and twisted into a simple up-do that left a few tendrils framing her face.
Amanda smiled brightly as she turned and saw Mark standing behind her. "Mark!" she said with surprise, "you came."
Bryan nodded mutely, looking for all the world as if he wanted to run.
"I'm glad you came," Amanda said as she looked him up and down with appreciation. He was in a black suit with a emerald green tie. She thought it was cute how he looked nervous.
"Would," Bryan had to clear his throat, "would you care to dance?"
Amanda smiled up at him, "I would love to," she said as she took his hand.
Bryan pulled her close and fell into an easy circling pattern as a slow song came over the speakers. He noted that she smelled of lilacs.
They danced in silence, but Amanda didn't mind the silence. It was nice not to have the pressure of finding a topic of conversation, to just enjoy dancing and being close to someone.
The song was over before Bryan worked up the nerve to say what he had to tell her.
"Thank you for the dance," Amanda said as she smiled at him. AS she turned to walk back towards the music Bryan reached out and took her hand.
Amanda looked down at his hand wrapped around hers and back up at him, a question clearly expressed in her eyes.
"Can I talk to you?" Bryan asked quietly.
"Okay." Amanda said.
Bryan guided her through the crowds of people to the edge of the room where it was quieter. "Now that you can hear me," Bryan said with a half smile, "I have something I need to tell you."
"What is it?" Amanda asked, her brow furrowing prettily in confusion.
Bryan drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm not Mark," he said quietly, "I'm Bryan."
Amanda frowned a little, "I thought you were Mark. Then Mark didn't come?" she asked, "He said he wasn't planning on it, but I thought when I saw you that he had decided to come after all," she finished.
Bryan blinked slowly, "No, Amanda. Mark is at home. I'm Bryan."
"Yes, you said that. Is Mark not feeling well? Did he send you to keep me company?" Amanda asked.
Bryan reached out and touched a tendril of hair, "Amanda, you never knew Mark," Bryan said. He watched as the information sunk in.
"You're not Mark," she said as she took a step back.
"Look, I can explain," Bryan pleaded.
"Then please do so," Amanda said as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Bryan took a breath and related the whole story. All the times that he and his twin had switched places. The mix up with Jason, and how as time went on he felt more and more like he couldn't tell her, that she would think that he had been purposely lying to her.
Amanda took in the whole story, listened intently to all he had to say. "So you are Bryan," she said at last.
Bryan nodded, "yes. I'm Bryan." He waited anxiously for her next words, watched as she thought through everything, saw in her eyes as she reached the end of her musings.
"So you can do more than 'dance a little.'" she said as her mouth twitched up into a grin.
Bryan let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding and smiled widely, "Yeah. I can do more than 'dance a little'," he echoed as he pulled her onto the dance floor.
Amanda smiled brightly as she turned and saw Mark standing behind her. "Mark!" she said with surprise, "you came."
Bryan nodded mutely, looking for all the world as if he wanted to run.
"I'm glad you came," Amanda said as she looked him up and down with appreciation. He was in a black suit with a emerald green tie. She thought it was cute how he looked nervous.
"Would," Bryan had to clear his throat, "would you care to dance?"
Amanda smiled up at him, "I would love to," she said as she took his hand.
Bryan pulled her close and fell into an easy circling pattern as a slow song came over the speakers. He noted that she smelled of lilacs.
They danced in silence, but Amanda didn't mind the silence. It was nice not to have the pressure of finding a topic of conversation, to just enjoy dancing and being close to someone.
The song was over before Bryan worked up the nerve to say what he had to tell her.
"Thank you for the dance," Amanda said as she smiled at him. AS she turned to walk back towards the music Bryan reached out and took her hand.
Amanda looked down at his hand wrapped around hers and back up at him, a question clearly expressed in her eyes.
"Can I talk to you?" Bryan asked quietly.
"Okay." Amanda said.
Bryan guided her through the crowds of people to the edge of the room where it was quieter. "Now that you can hear me," Bryan said with a half smile, "I have something I need to tell you."
"What is it?" Amanda asked, her brow furrowing prettily in confusion.
Bryan drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm not Mark," he said quietly, "I'm Bryan."
Amanda frowned a little, "I thought you were Mark. Then Mark didn't come?" she asked, "He said he wasn't planning on it, but I thought when I saw you that he had decided to come after all," she finished.
Bryan blinked slowly, "No, Amanda. Mark is at home. I'm Bryan."
"Yes, you said that. Is Mark not feeling well? Did he send you to keep me company?" Amanda asked.
Bryan reached out and touched a tendril of hair, "Amanda, you never knew Mark," Bryan said. He watched as the information sunk in.
"You're not Mark," she said as she took a step back.
"Look, I can explain," Bryan pleaded.
"Then please do so," Amanda said as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Bryan took a breath and related the whole story. All the times that he and his twin had switched places. The mix up with Jason, and how as time went on he felt more and more like he couldn't tell her, that she would think that he had been purposely lying to her.
Amanda took in the whole story, listened intently to all he had to say. "So you are Bryan," she said at last.
Bryan nodded, "yes. I'm Bryan." He waited anxiously for her next words, watched as she thought through everything, saw in her eyes as she reached the end of her musings.
"So you can do more than 'dance a little.'" she said as her mouth twitched up into a grin.
Bryan let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding and smiled widely, "Yeah. I can do more than 'dance a little'," he echoed as he pulled her onto the dance floor.
Tell Her The Truth
"What's been eating you lately?" Mark asked as he flopped down next to his brother on the bed.
"Do you know Amanda?" Bryan asked.
"Which one? There are quite a few Amandas at school," Mark said rolling his eyes. He was sure it was just another of his brothers crushes. It would go away in about two weeks.
"Amanda Hollingworth."
"Oh." Mark was taken aback a little. Amanda Hollingworth was not Bryan's typical girl. Mark reviewed in his mind what he knew of her. Pretty, studious, a little on the quiet side but very nice.
"I don't know her well," Mark said at last, "mostly in passing. What makes you mention her?"
"Because she thinks I'm you," Bryan said as he sat up.
Mark puzzled over this for a moment, "why would she think that you are me? Not that people don't get us confused all the time, but how did you two meet and why would she think you're me?"
"Remember that Dance Committee that you were supposed to be on?"
"Yeah. I vaguely remember that. What has that got to do with it?"
"Well Jason grabbed me one day after school thinking I was you and dragged me off to the meeting. I wasn't really paying attention and I ended up on the music committee with Amanda. She thinks I'm you."
"I don't see how this is a problem. Just tell her that you're Bryan. I don't know her all that well anyway."
"What if she thinks I've been lying to her on purpose, having a laugh at her expense."
"And what if she doesn't?" Mark asked, "what if she realizes that it was a mistake and let's it go."
"Then how would you account for me not telling her before that I was really Bryan?"
Mark was silent for a moment. After a few seconds of thought he said, "look, do you like her?"
Bryan gave him his 'are you that dim' look.
"Then tell her the truth," Mark said. "You can't build any sort of relationship without trust. You have to trust that she will see the situation for what it is, and she will have to trust that you had no intention of deceiving her."
"You're right," Bryan said as he jumped off the bed and walked out of the room.
"Of course I'm right," Mark said to the empty room.
"Do you know Amanda?" Bryan asked.
"Which one? There are quite a few Amandas at school," Mark said rolling his eyes. He was sure it was just another of his brothers crushes. It would go away in about two weeks.
"Amanda Hollingworth."
"Oh." Mark was taken aback a little. Amanda Hollingworth was not Bryan's typical girl. Mark reviewed in his mind what he knew of her. Pretty, studious, a little on the quiet side but very nice.
"I don't know her well," Mark said at last, "mostly in passing. What makes you mention her?"
"Because she thinks I'm you," Bryan said as he sat up.
Mark puzzled over this for a moment, "why would she think that you are me? Not that people don't get us confused all the time, but how did you two meet and why would she think you're me?"
"Remember that Dance Committee that you were supposed to be on?"
"Yeah. I vaguely remember that. What has that got to do with it?"
"Well Jason grabbed me one day after school thinking I was you and dragged me off to the meeting. I wasn't really paying attention and I ended up on the music committee with Amanda. She thinks I'm you."
"I don't see how this is a problem. Just tell her that you're Bryan. I don't know her all that well anyway."
"What if she thinks I've been lying to her on purpose, having a laugh at her expense."
"And what if she doesn't?" Mark asked, "what if she realizes that it was a mistake and let's it go."
"Then how would you account for me not telling her before that I was really Bryan?"
Mark was silent for a moment. After a few seconds of thought he said, "look, do you like her?"
Bryan gave him his 'are you that dim' look.
"Then tell her the truth," Mark said. "You can't build any sort of relationship without trust. You have to trust that she will see the situation for what it is, and she will have to trust that you had no intention of deceiving her."
"You're right," Bryan said as he jumped off the bed and walked out of the room.
"Of course I'm right," Mark said to the empty room.
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