THERE’S A LION IN MY BACKYARD

By Karen J. Williams

“911,” said the operator in a sing-song fashion,  “What is the nature of your emergency?”

Gripping the receiver in her sweating palm, Ruanne, feeling scared and nervous said loudly, “there’s a lion in my backyard.”  She paced around the brightly colored yellow kitchen as far as the extension would allow her. 

The operator, taken aback, repeated her question.  “Ma’am,  did you say there is a lion in your back yard?”

“Yes. Yes, “ said Ruanne, continuing to pace and peering out of her kitchen window from what she considered a safe distance from the big cat lurking in her flower beds, and trampling her garden with his big paws. “There’s a huge lion in my backyard.  Did you hear that?

“Yes ma’a, how did the lion get in your back yard?”

“How would I know?”

“Well ma’am,” said the operator attempting to control the laughter.  “It isn’t everyday we get a call about a lion in one’s back yard.  What is the lion doing ma’am?”

“Wha…what is the lion doing?  Her voice beginning to rise, the lion turns in her direction.  “I’m looking out of my kitchen window…Oh, no, he’s coming up on my deck.”  She quickly pulled the curtains to.  “Oh my God, it’s coming this way.”

The lion slowly made his way to the deck.  The scent of the flowers and dust from the garden filled his nostrils.  He sneezed and shook his mighty mane.   Another more pleasing aroma filled the air.  It came from some where beyond the deck.  He approached his prey, sniffing, huffing and stalking as lions do before they move in for the kill. 

Ruanne looked on in disbelief as the lion came near.  She looked into his steely gaze and was once again filled with fear.

“Ma’am,” said the operator.  I’m dispatching an officer now.”

“An officer?  Honey you betta send in the calvary.  My address is 1250 Second Street.”

“Thank you ma’am.  That address is 1250 Second Street…is that correct?”

“Mm hmmm, yes,” said Ruanne staying away from the window.  “I can hear him on the deck now….ooooo”, she said shaking in fear.

“Ma’am, I’ll stay on the phone with you.  I suggest you leave the kitchen and close the door behind you.  Do you have a door between the kitchen and say, a dining area?”

It was then that Ruanne realized that the kitchen door leading out to the deck was open…the flimsy weather-worn wooden screen door is all that stood between her and the lion.  She looked about the kitchen for a weapon, still holding the phone, she stumbled into a chair, making a racket as she reached for a nearby large sauce pan to use as a weapon.

***

With the sauce pan raised, Ruanne tiptoed as quietly as possible to the kitchen door.  The door hinges, in need of oil, screeched loudly as they had been doing for more than a month.  “not now,” she whispered softly, “quiet, shhhh, not a sound.” Her words were lost, the door creaked and cried loudly before she closed it.  Feeling relieved for a moment she stood with her back against the door until she heard the lion’s soft huffing  and low grunts.

Moving her ample body and with stealth, she tiptoed quickly to the dining room and closed that door behind her.  In the living room she picked up the cordless phone and spoke with the operator.  “I’m in the living room now.  The lion is on the deck.  He put his huge plate-sized paws on the kitchen window and rubbed hi nose against the class.  His long nails clicked against the window as he clawed at the invisible barrier.  His nose in the air, he caught the scent of Ruanne’s frying chicken.

***

Normally, Ruanne took great pleasure in admiring her lovely home.  The beautiful sage green shag carpet complemented the soft yello walls and floral sofa.  Today she was too scared to look at her precious surroundings.  Like a streak she heaved her heavy body up the stairs to the second story.  Earlier in the day she had gone to the beauty shop.  Her hair was in curls that now bounced on her head like the curls on Shirley Temple as she tap-danced.  They bounced and flounced in her eyes and about her face.  With her free hand she swiped at the curls and grasped the banister jettisoning herself onto the upstairs landing with a thud.  The cordless phone clattered across the floor.  The operator was frantically calling out, “Ma’am, are you there?  Are you there?  What’s happening?”

Struggling under the bulk of her weight, she managed to crawl into her bedroom window to get a glimpse of the lion, still on her deck, now scratching at the door.

The aroma of burning chicken drifted up the stairs.  “Ooooo, no, not my crispy, spicy, tantalizing , mouth-watering golden brown  chicken.  She yelled into the phone. “My chicken is burning to a crisp.  My dinner!

She spoke into the phone, “my chicken is burning, he smells my chicken. 

“Be calm ma’am.  The police  and AC are nearly there.”

“AC,” asked Ruanne.

“Animal Control ma’am.  They’re meeting the police at your house.

Ruanne heard a sound coming from the front of her house.  She crossed the hall landing  where she saw the police, with flashing light and animal control had pulled up in front of her house.  She raised the window and called out to them.  Four officers, and several zoo personnel with a large van. 

She bounded down the stairs, she opened the front door with a jerk.  She began to jabber, the policeman raised his hand to silence her.  “Ma’m, show me where the lion is.  Ruanne, speechless, pointed to the back of the house…”go through the dining room, into the kitchen.  He’s on the deck pawing at the screen door.  He smells my chicken.

“MY CHICKEN!”  She hurried the policemen along and into the kitchen.  The put out the flame under the now burned to a char chicken, smoke hung in the air.

By the time the police opened the door, Animal Control had tranquilized the lion and he staggered about on the deck bumping into and knocking over her furniture and potted plants.  He was out like a light.  They managed to get him into the van and hurried off in the direction of the zoo.

“You’re safe now ma’am,” said the handsome officer.  He was a big one.”

“Mmm hmmm,” she said eyeing the good looking man in front of her, batting her eyes and squirming a bit.

“How did he get out?” she inquired, touching her heart.

“Right now we have no idea.  The zoo will investigate and ensure this doesn’t happen again.  It could have been worse.  No harm done.” He said as he walked to the front door, eager to leave the wondering of eyes of Ruanne.

***

Later that evening after ordering Chinese take-out, she sat watching tv and discovered the local news channel had filmed Animal Control  brining the huge beast to the van.  “Too bad I didn’t know,” she thought had  envaded.

“Girl,” she said, “Mmm hum, there was a lion in my back yard.

, “I could have been on tv.”

The first day a couple moves into their new home, they pull back the dusty, old carpet and are surprised at what they find

She found what she was looking for, one day too late.

Crystabelle's habit of tossing mail and other items aside would one day catch up with her.  What a mess she created, not only in her home, but in her life as well.  Her friends compalined that she never answered their calls in a timely matter.  She handled most things in this haphazard way. 

I'm like Scarlett O'Hara, she said in a bragging tone.  This, just another excuse for her inability to control her life. The faint smile she wore on her face spoke only of her insecurity. "Hmmph," she said shrugging her shoulders, "I don't have time for the mundane."  Yet, with trepidation, holding her breath, she began to go the piles of unopened mail on the bar.  Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead, causing her makeup to run.  She wiped the beads away with the back of her hand. With trembling hands, she found what she was looking for, her divorce papers,  She quickly scanned the decree, she didn't want the divorce, she ignored all the summons and calls, and now, she was one day too late.

Today was that day. 

Get the hang of poncho knitting with this simple pattern that features a basic poncho shape. With lines of lace constructed from delicate yarn, this is one of those free easy knitting patterns that begs to be worn during the summer. To assemble your poncho, knit two rectangles and seam together as shown in the diagram below.

Basic Summer Poncho

This image courtesy of www.bernat.com

Knitting Needle Size: 8 or 5 mm

Yarn Weight: (4) Medium Weight/Worsted Weight and Aran (16-20 stitches to 4 inches)

SIZES
XS/M 28-38 ins [71-96.5 cm]
L/2XL 40-50 ins [101.5 -127 cm]
3/5XL 52-62 ins [132-157.5 cm]
Finished length between neck edge and point
XS/M 22 ins [56 cm]
L/2XL 25 ins [63.5 cm]
3/5XL 30½ ins [77.5 cm]

MATERIALS

• Bernat Satin yarn: XS/M (L/2XL-3/5XL) (Solids: 100 g / 3.5 oz) 4 (5-6) balls OR (Ombres: 80 g / 2.8 oz) 5 (7-8) balls
• Wide ribbon 50 ins [127 cm] long for Drawstring (optional).
• Size 5 mm (U.S. 8) knitting needles or size needed to obtain gauge. ½ inch [1.5 cm]
   

GAUGE
18 sts and 24 rows = 4 ins [10 cm] in
stocking st.

INSTRUCTIONS
(Make 2 pieces alike).
Cast on 62 (70-86) sts.
Knit 4 rows, noting that first row is WS.
Proceed as follows:
1st row: (WS). K3. Purl to last 3 sts. K3.
2nd row: K2. *K2. yfwd. K2tog. K2. Sl1. K1. psso. yfwd. Rep from * to last 4 sts. K4.
Rep last 2 rows until work from beg measures 27 (29-33) ins [68.5 (73.5-84) cm], ending with WS facing for next row. Knit 4 rows. Cast off.

FINISHING
Sew cast off edge of one piece to the side
of other piece as shown in Diagram.

Ribbon Drawstring
(optional): Starting at center front, thread ribbon along neck edge. Tie into a bow at center.

Read more at http://www.allfreeknitting.com/Knit-Ponchos/basic-summer-poncho/ml/1#U3XSDeEWgi1ZCmcV.99

WNP
"He positioned the ladder directly below the window and started to climb."


Under the cloak of darkness, Hector looked about.  He gazed up into the blackness of night, the stars twinkled faintly in the heavens.  "I must not tarry," he said aloud.  "I have to get into that building somehow, my life depends on finding the location of the Doctor's hideaway."   He moved slowly from the copse of trees, dressed in dark clothing he could not be seen.  He managed to find a ladder in one of the sheds.  He walked around the perimeter of the buuilding looking for a place to enter into the house.  Once a window was located,  He placed the ladder against the window ledge and began to climb.  Slowly at first, gaining his footing, he began to move faster.  He heard a noise from somewhere on the grounds.

WNP  4/24/13
"I can't believe that's her real name..."

Robin was used to  the many names that have surfaced in our society.  Young women look for unique names for the children that make them stand out.  Being a babysitter, she's run across some children with unusual names.  Quianna, is one such name.  That name was once a fabric from the 60's or 70's, there are a myriad too many to list here.  The most interesting name of all, was a little girl named Pajamas.  When her mother introduced the child, she introduced her, "Miss Robbin, this is Pajamay (phonetic pronounciation), spelled P-a-j-a-m-a-s."
There was also a little girl named "La-la."  Yep, you say her name, "La dash la."

Robbin smiled on both occasions and listened in disbelief and said to herself, "I can't believe that's her name..."

WNP:  4/19/13
"They were unlikely partners in crime..."


Looking at the two figures appraoching, you would not think they are comrades in crime.  The old lady tottered about on spindly legs and wore rubbber-soled flat shoes, that in no way added to the stability of her gait. She forged ahead  rocking from side to side to move her many poiunds of flesh.  Her black-framed eye glasses rested on her pointy nose, as she looked about her, scanning the area.  I continued to observe as a young man about thirteen years old approach her from the side.  She glanced in his direction, he smiled briefly and opened the door to Busken's Bakery with a flourish.

Once inside the sweet smell of sugar, cinnamon, and chocolate permeated the air.  For anyone with a sweet tooth, it was a smell to delight the senses.  She pulled the young man to her and whispered something in his ear.  He looked at the old lady as if he was surprised by what she had uttered.  Then he made his move.

With a flash he scooped up several boxes of smiley cookies, several banana and zuchinni cakes were added to the stash.  The old lady feiiiigned surprise, grabbed her heart and gasped as the young boy dashed out of the door.  The others in the shop were surprised by the action, but more concerend for the old lady.
"Is there anything we can get for you, anyone we can call to come get you?"
"No, no," she said as she continued her act, "I'll be fine, it's just these young people today, tsk, tsk, tsk."
Everyone nodded in agreement as they ushered her to the door, calling out, "You be safe now."

Meanwhile, back at the old lady's apartment, the young lad waited for his grandmother to enter through the kitchen door.  He had set the goodies out on the table, ready for devouring.
"Whew, gran, that was close this time."  He looked at his gran with a big smile on his face as he helped her to a chair.  She smiled a toothless smile that always made him laugh.  "Ha ha ha ha.

"Ah my boy, you done good.  Is the   This is the best caper we ever pulled.

WNP 5/12/13
"He stared at the knarly tree which had protected the old cemetery for over a century."

"This is where we played our childhood games, especially hide-n-seek," he said quietly to Sara.  Showing her his childhood haunts was important to their relationship.  He wanted her to know everything about him.  Why his hometown is important to him.  Everything.  Coming here to this spot was an act of bravery on his part.  His therapist had encouraged him to come back.  He stared at the knarly tree.  It had protecdted the old cemetery for over a century.  Pointing in the direction of the tree, it is also the place where his best frient Bobby, the ten year old neighborhood dare-devil,  had hung himself.  He could still see him hanging there lifeless.  Sara took his hand in hers, and led him away.  "I know how hard this must be for you."  He couldn't speak, there were no words, tears pooled in his eyes as they turned and walked away.

WNP  4/9/13

"He entered the terminal without looking back."


The decision to leave was not easy.  The people he would leave behind, family, friends, and one special woman who had touched his life deeply.  It wasn't enough to hold him.  He mulled over his options for weeks. "Do I go, or do I stay?"  This once in a lifetime opportunity would never come again. He searched for answers everywhere, looking to the stars which could not answer, and friends who offered unsolicited words of questionable wisdom. "Man, if you do this, we may never see you again, you'll be an old man, we may be dead," they spoke these words to him often.  If he took their advice, he would forever be tethered to the mundane.  He was chosen along with a group of othe specialists for this exclusive and exciting journey.  For once his life would be filled with excitement and adventure.  It would be years before he would be able to return.  Things would not be the same, the people he loved would not be the same.  Most importantly, he would not be the same.  He walked briskly toward his future, and entered the terminal without looking back.

WNP:
A woman stops in Las Vegas and has the luckiest time in her life...



The drive through the desert was grueling, especially when you drive alone.  It's lonely at night, and black as velevet, out there and alone, it can be downright spooky.  "Only a few more miles to go,  the same old story after five years",  thought Rain, "then the first leg of my jorney back home to Indiana will be over.  She thought that moving to Los Angeles would change her life, but it turned out to be, the same story, different location."  Just like a Twightlight story...her luck was about to cange.

Moving back to Indiana, midwesterners with their small minds had always irritated her.  She would tolerate whatever came her way.  She had a new attitude about living, and besides, she was moving back to help her mother, now widowed and ill.  "But first, I'm stopping in Vegas.  Lord, you gotta hear me on this.  I've lived way too long with out a break, no good luck ever coming my way..."  She spied the bright ligts of the strip and headed straight for the bright lights of nearest time Casino.  Pulling in the lot, she was caught up in the fanfare, blinding  lights and blaring music. 

Onced inside, she watched for a moment before deciding on a slot machine to play.  She wanted one that was hot, one that would pay off, didn't matter how much, she just for once in her life needed to feel lucky.
She spied an older lady leaving a machine and asked, "Are you finished with that machine."
"Yes replied the blue-haired woman. better luck to you...that machine's tapped out.  She wore black framed glasses like Truman Capote, and a smock with pockets to hold her winnings.  They were empty, just like the look on her face.

Rain sat before the slot promising big wins.  "Come on, come on," she said as the colorful fruit stopped in place, wating for a match.  "Darn it, almost got it she said.  Once again she pulled the lever of the one-armed bandit.  She watched with baited breath.  Suddely lights, and bells and whistles could be heard all of the floor.  "It's my slot, it's me, I'm a winner.  Like a kid she jumped from the stool and jumped around like a Jack rabbit.  She did efverything but cheer, like in her high school days on the cheering squad. 

That night would prove to be the luckiest night of her life, she won more than five thousand dollars.  After leaving the casino, she walked into a car show where the shiny cars, ballons, and glittering lights called to her.  She was feeling pretty heady by this time.  A salesman, acting like a carnival huckster, tempted her to try the wheel.  "Step right up little lady," he said in his best carny voice, all he needed was a straw hat, red striped shirt and cane and he would have fit the bill.  She smiled at him broadly, "Ok, "  she said, "I'll give it a spin.  She stepped to the wheel, similar to the one on Wheel of Fortune, she gave it all the muscle she had, round and round it went, clackity, clack, clack...She held her breath, passersby stopped in their tracks.  The wheel ceased movement, with her hands over her mouth, she couldn't believe her luck.

The carny huckster announced to the entire showroom.  "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner.  Yes, we have a winner of the new 2013 Chevy Cruise."  She heard from someone standing near her that she is a lucky girl.  She thought to herself, "friend that is an understatement.  I'm "the" luckiest girl!

WNP:
 "He stood and threw the bottle into the ocan, "all done," he said...



Dallas was cold, wet and hungover from sitting on the beach most of the night.  He looked at the empty bottle in his hand, stood up and the threw the bottle into the ocean, "all done," he said.  And with that one gesture, he made the decision to begin life anew.

WNP:

"I'm sure that's an urban legend..."


The group sat around the bonfire, gazing into the fire and watching the sparks fly from the charred logs.  Each person is lost in the storytelling.  "There once was a girl, who jumped from the covered bridge, just over there," said Billy pointing in the general direction of the bridge, which is no longer covered.  "She climbed to the top of the roof of the bridge, and jumped, headfirst.  They say she broke her neck in the fall."  Everyone remained quiet, staring into the glowing embers. 

"Why did she jump, why did she want to end her life?"

Billy took a moment to look everyone in they eye before he answered.  he fire crackled and creaked as the wood burned. "Well,"  he said, 'that's a good question...some say she was in love and her father and mother wouldn't let her marry the young man.  She was heart broken.  He was said to be from the wrong side of the tracks.  She haunts the very woods we are in, she roams the woods looking for her lost love.  At midnight, the time she jumped, a fog covers the bridge, thick as soup, and eerie sounds can be heard from the general direction of the bridge, she's looking for him.

They all sat motionless, looked about, and wrapped themselves tighter agains the eerie cold that began to embrace them.  They looked at the bridge and saw wisps of white fog.  No one said a word for a moment.  Then Billy chimed in and said bliethly, "I'm pretty sure that's just an urban legend."

WNP:  3/29/13

A strange clamness came over him as he entered the silent room...


Dex was finally ready to sign the recording contract.  His years of sweat and toil is finally paying off.  He couldn't believe his good fortune, his nerves were beginning to get the best of him.  He straightened his tie and tugged at his suit sleeves, he wondered about his overall appearance and decided that it was too late to worry about how he looked.  "I've arrived," he said to himself.  "This is what success feels like."   He sat on the plush white leather sofa and gazed at the abstract murals that graced the few solid walls that existed, while waiting for the receptionist to send him into the office where his life would change forever.  In the mean time he looked at his surroundings, glass everywhere, so much glass, and the black marble floors reflected the glare of the light from outside, the office appeard to float above the streets more than fifty stories below. 

"Mr. Dexter," said the beautiful young receptionist from behind her marble surroundings.  "I'll take you in to see E'mil now."  She moved to the front of the counter and motioned for him to follow her, "this way she said softly, her red lips smiling, and her hips moving seductively.in a tight lepard print mini-skirt"  She lead him down a  corridor where the carpet was so plush he almost lost his footing.  She came to a set of carved double doors, a stark contrast to the modern accoutrements from the entrance.  She opened the door and in one smooth movement beckoned him to enter, a strange clamness came over him as he entered the silent room where E'mil sat wating behind a huge plexiglass desk to change his life forever.

WNP       "Why did you hang up on me?"


It had been a busy, busy day with everyone demanding a piece of Charlotte that she wasn't willing to give.  Not today.  This is the day she decided to take control of her life.  Email and the demands of her office phone and cell phone were making her work day harder than it needed to be.  On several occasions she let voice mail catch her calls.  By mid afternoon,  the co-workers were pretty irritated that she would not pick up.

"Hey Charlotte, what's with you not answering the phone?"

"I'm trying to catch up on some work,"  she said loudly, hoping they would just bug off and leaver her alone to work. Several times she answered the phone, liftiing the receiver and and hung up before saying anything, "I'm really getting behind.  The darned phone is so demanding, there are times when I just want  to toss it along with mly computer straight into file 13."

Several of the workers complained that Charlotte is not taking her share of the calls.

In comes Mrs. Cavanaugh, she looked none to happy with a stern look and scowl upon her face. 
"I'm in trouble now,"  thought Charlotte.

"Charlotte," declared Mrs. C loudly.  Everyone within ear shot turned to listen as Mrs. C yelled.  "Why
did you hange up on me?"

WNP 3/8/13
"She stared at her reflection in the silver spoon..."

WNP  3/12/13      
"An awful smell arose from the toater..."

WNP: 2/22/13

"He was always late, but tonight he arrived early."


Jomo quickly showered and shaved.  The steam filled the bathroom with a warm fog, a cocoon that he didn't want to leave.  He deeply appreciated the comforts his new life afforded him.  "There are some things in life one wants to relish," he mused as he wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror.  He gazed at himself, no longer the little boy from Ghana.  Now, a man.

He hated the hustle and bustle of the city.  Everyone was in such a hurry, just like the airport, you hurry up to get there, only to wait in line at the checkin or ticket counter.  Then you rush to the Gate, only to await the plane that seldom arrives on time.  "No, " he thought, I like to to take things nice and slow.  "That is the nature of the people where I am from," he thought fondly of his home land and the people he left behind.  Shaking himself from his reverie, he dressed quickly.

He  hailed a taxi outside of his apartment.  A soft mist was fallilng, tonight, nothing could ruin this evening. The taxi driver weaved skillfully in and out of traffic.  Jomo looked anxiously at his watch.  Finally he arrived at the restaurant.  He stood before the window to make sure his tie was straight. Through the window he could see the soft glow of the candle light where she and her family sat.  He stood staring at her beauty, and she must have felt his presence.  She turned to the window,  smiled at him and waved.  her parents looks followed her gaze.  "That's Jomo," she said with a smile on her face.  "He's always late," she uttered softly, "but tonight...he's right on time.

Movies


I love movies, old movies in particular.  I am not a fan of the color movies from the late fifties.  I don't much care for musicals.  I like the Noir type of movie.  Being retired, I am able to spend several  hours during the day watching TCM, one of my favorite stations.  And I TVO the movies that I am unable to watch during the day, or they may come on late in the wee hours of the morning.  So I record them and on weekends I have a cup of hot tea and snuggle on my sofa and watch film Noir.  Ah, the mystery of it all!  Nothing better than a rainy day, or a snowy day, along with a good book or a good movie.  Mmmmm, thje swee life!

WNP: 2/19/13

 

“It’s always the quiet ones, you know?”

Selah and  Doctor Havilier walked slowly  through the ward.  It was stark, bare, and offered no form of comfort to the distressed.  She looked at the patients in various stages of awareness.  Some were crying, laughing, or arguing with an invisible person.  She was speechless at what she was witnessing.  Her heart ached for the human devastation she saw. 

"Is this what we have come to?"  she asked the Doctor.  He did not respond but continued to walk to the next door, with a soft whoosh, the door opened.

This room was completely different from what she had just experienced.  It could almost be described as lovely,a solarium with wicker furniture, flowers, and greenery, lots of light and artwork created by the patients. There was no sound,  only the soft dulcid tones of classical music...here the patients appeared to be calm, almost composed.  They were fully dressed in street clothes, walking about,  or playing chess, Majohng, painting and reading.  The Doctor noticed Selah looking about with a surprised look on her face. 

"I see you have noticed the stark difference between the two wards?" 

She looked around before answering.  "Yes, this is like an oasis."

"This is a new experieiment, our staff wear pink or blue blazers to differentiate them from the clients. Would you believe that some of these patients are convicted murderers?" he said in a matter-of-fact tone. 

"No," she said.  "I would never have guessed, they seem so..." her voice drifted off.  "Murderers?"

"Um hmm," he muttered quietly.  He looked around the room and her eyes followed his. "You see," he continued, "it's always the quiet ones, you know?"

WNP: 2/15/13

We’ve spoken often, but we’ve never met.

The phone rang shrilly for several seconds.  Amos held the phone tightly in his sweaty palm.  This isn't the first time they had spoken..  He sat in the chair by the cluttered desk and twizzled the chair back and forth waiting for the pick up.  Click.  "Hello," said a pleasant female voice.  He hesitated a beat, sweat beads popping out on his forehead.  "Get a grip guy," he said to himself.  "Hello, " he stuttered, "Um,  hi," he repeated nervously.  Thank God the voice on the other end is patient.  He started again. this time with more confidence.  "Hi again," he said smiling and hoping the smile would make his voice sound pleasant. "It's Amos, we'e spoken often, but we've never met.  How are you this evening?

Story prompt:  2/14/13
"That's weird," thought Cupid, "I've never hit the wrong person like that before.
(Not a timed writing)


At last, the time has come.  It's early morning, the special day has arrived, the day of love. Cupid sits atop the highest building as he glances around the city.A warm wind blows gently, rustling his blonde curls, and filtering through the wings on his back.  It feels good and refreshing. He is ready and eager to go to work, with his new high-powered bow, the VD-214-13. It's  the latest in bow technology, the bow is cocked with the arrow ready to fly into the heart of an unsuspecting victim at a moments notice.  His eys search to and fro for where the arrows might go.  The people he might touch with his mighty act, bringing love to those who are deserving.  He and others like him have been at this practice for centuries, he's never wrong and his aim is exact.  He is legendary in his prowess.

There has been a great deal of controversy among the Council of Cupids regarding the new computerized dating sites and social networks that now exist, thus diminishing the need for Cupids in the world.  What would the world be like without the cherubic love makers intervening in creating love matches.?  A tragic and desolate place, they imagine.

The victim of Cupids warm act  is aware only of the fact that he or she might desire the love object but lack the confidence to make the initial contact.  Better known as, the approach.  That's where Cupids come in.  They make things happen unaware to those around them.,

This day is like any other Love Day, he has twentyl-four hours, he and his kind will strike the hearts of many.  The reward for Cupid's good deed is seeing the smiling faces of those who truly love.

The moment has arrived  and he has been given the "All clear," the go-ahead to begin his day.  " he flies over the city and spots his first assigned target. "There," he said as he gently let loose the arrow, "right on the mark."  The arrow produced a warm glow in the hearts of those he  provided the service to.  "No pain, but a lot of gain," he said with a smile on his rosey-cheeked face.

He proceeded through his day with a great deal of success.  Everywhere, roses and candy, warm hugs, cards  and smiles were shared, and the words, I love you were uttered throughout the universe.

His day nearly finished, he thought about the good deed he has done."This has been a good day,"  he said to himself.  Only one more to go and he would be finished until next time.  With the man and woman in his sight, he loaded his bow for the last shot.  He gently rubbed his right shoulder to ease the strain from the days work.  He pulled the trigger on his bow, it flew through the air soundlessly and invisible.  At the last moment the arrouw veered up and went haywire, and struck the wrong man in his neck.  Cupid lookekd on not believing what he saw.  "That's weird." thought Cupid, "I've never hit the wrong person like that before."

WNP    2/8/13

An alien lands on Earth and encounters humans for the first time–at a cattle ranch in Texas.

Rusty , the ranch foreman, and the other ranch hands gathered in the cabin after having eaten a hearty meal.  The conversation tonight centered around strange sightings out on the range.  Several of the hands were spooked by the bright lights they saw in the night sky, flitting about like giant fireflies. Even the cattle seemed spooked, restless and stampeding at night which is a rare occurence.  Cody found strange markings on the ground in the grass that he observed from a plateau overlooking a ravine.  They were used to seeing strange writings on the rock walls.  Those were attributed to the Indians that were in the area many, many years ago.   Some of the local Indians had deciphered what the writing said.  But this was different.  Made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

Several days past and the cow-hands were seeing more and more the the strange lights in the night sky. They seemed to be coming closer and closer. Their were rumblings of taking along their high-powered guns.  They were uneasy. Local  Indian legend told of lights in the sky and visitors who wee not like men.  But surely that was folklore.  Hysteria.

Jed spoke up as they were getting their horses ready to head out to the range.  He was reluctant to speak, didn't want to be considered a "scary-cat."  "Rusty," he said clearing his throat and stopping to look at him.  "Me and the boys have seen more strangeness out there at night.  Think makybe we can move the cattle to another area, that place is weird."

Rusty stopped what he was doing and strode over to Jed, kicking up dirt as he sckuffed through the dry earth.  "Naw, Jed, we need to let 'em graze where they are,  you know how it is."
"Yeh, but," he stammered.  There's some strange stuff goin on out there.
Rusty merely looked at Jed and returned to his horse and mounted it, riding off he said.  "Ya comin, or not?"
Jed mounted his horse and rode out after Rusty and the others.

That night as they sat around the camp-fire drinking coffee, the conversation stopped when suddenly they saw a bright light beaming down upon them.  Shielding their eyes they looked up into the otherwise pitch black night sky.  They were frozeen in a beam of light.  Unable to speak, they sat like stone sentinels unable to react in anyway.  Coming toward them was an alien about three feet tall, shuffling as it walked and making clicking sounds as if to speak.

They don't remember much after that.  They never talk about the night they encountered an alien.

Excerpt from:  Thursday Tea  by:  Kwilli

Voncille: 

Voncille sat quietly listening to the ladies as they chatted about their week.  The conversation was filled with complaints about wayward, spoiled, and irresponsible children at their age. Grown.  Yet they fussed about them not growing up, dishonoring commitments to their children, wives and husbands.  Most of them seemed to be disasters in the making.

Mothers with broken hearts are pitiful creatures. Voncille fought hard not to be pitiful, full of complaints and remorse like most women. Listening to their whining turned her stomach.

Voncille has said that she basically does not like women and that her friends are men.  She gets along better with them for some reason unknown to her.  At the age of sixty she never really had a girlfriend that she could confide in, or someone to listen to her complaints how her man done her wrong.

She was raised by her father, her mother disappeared many years ago leaving her in diapers, a runny nose and an empty bottle, as she lay in the crib crying, wet and hungry, she just up and walked out the door.  She never uttered a word to anyone about leaving, or if there was something wrong. She never looked back, never came back or inquired as to the care of her baby, if she lived or died the day she walked out. She just vanished never to be heard from again.

“I guess, she just couldn’t take it no mo, me being a baby and making demands on her body and soul.”  She just wanted out, never to be seen again, but vaguely remembered by the daughter who would cry for days, snot running into her mouth full of rage because there was no response from the person who cared for her, looking for that special love from a mother. The love never came and left one day.

Voncille often thought, “maybe I don’t like myself, cause I’m mad at my momma. Cause she just up and left her baby with no thought about who would care for me like a mother, who would feed and clean me and hold me when I cried…’

Voncille had large hands and large feet, and had dark skin. She was also cursed with a big nose and eyes. She had a big butt with narrow hips.  Her Gran told her she was built more like a man, her daddy in particular. Her daddy was a hard workin man, he kept her and taught her manly ways of life.  That’s why she is more manly than womanly.

She watched him drink hard liquor and curse like a sailor, and that’s what she did when she was old enough. He father owned a bar and she was with him everyday after her mother left.  It was her home.  Women came into the bar, but it was the men who nurtured her.  From them she learned what it was like to be a man.  Her grandmother raised hell with her father, she could often be heard saying, “ain’t no place to raise a chile,” she would fuss.  “In a bar, no tellin what gone happen to that girl when she grown.”

She grew to be a woman and not particularly happy about her lot in life, so she made the best of it.  When her papa died, she took over the bar, made a few changes, and actually made a nice living.  She bought a house, it was plain like her, but it was comfortable.  She worked from dawn till midnight, bone tired when she arrived home.  She didn’t trust anyone to take care of the bar but her, that’s what her papa told her. “This heah bar is yo’s now, don’t trust nobody, no man, no woman wit you money.  It’ll make you a good livin, ‘n don’t give away free liquor,” he fussed as he continued saying, “colored peoples always wantin a free drink or a handout.”

“Yes papa.”

“’N watch out fo the men folk, they be tryin ta get unda your skirt ta get ta yo heart. Don’t be no foolish woman now girl.”

“Yes papa.”

He told her about men, and he told her about women, she didn’t much like women because of her momma and all.

On one of the few occasions that she did go to church, she heard the minister preach on women who don’t like other women. “ Well,” that preacher said, that the woman who don’t like other women, don’t like theysef.”

“Hmmpf,” was her reply, “I likes mahsef jus fine.”

She is retired now and finds her views on men and women have softened a great deal.  She no longer hates her mother who deserted all those years ago.  She never heard a word from her and no one ever saw her again, just like thin air, “whoosh, she was gone.”

She learned to dress herself in the latest styles by looking at magazines and the way some of the other women dressed.  She had her hair pressed every two weeks, and took to wearing a little lipstick.  Some of the men in the bar made passes at her, but they fell on deaf ears.  She just wasn’t interested in no man, in the past she would over hear them making light of her manly ways.  Once a drunk said to her, as he staggered on his feet, “you sho looks and acts like a man in a dress, wit you big, feet and hands… and that big juicy butt uh yo’s. Mmm, mmm, mmm.”

“Weelll, seems ta me like you mus like men the way you be watchin  me and my butt.”  The whole bar laughed and goof hawed.”  That shut ‘m all up.  She never heard a peep outta any of them from that day forward.

She tired of working and turned the bar over to a female cousin to run.  She had a good head on her shoulders and didn’t try to cheat Voncille.  She paid her well, and lived off the rest after seeing to the bar.  Life was good.  She wanted a change so she came to the tea one day and has come back every Thursday since.

Morning Musing


Having hard time getting started this morning.  I hate days like this.  I feel stuck.  I've done everything but write something meaningful.  Perhaps that's not going to happen today.I've looked at photos on Google and Pintrest.  One image did stand out.  A photo of a woman in Bali.  I can still see her face even though I closed the tab a while ago.  She isn't beautiful by American standards (for what it's worth).  She is black, she IS beautiful, even though her skin looks ashy, there is a shroud over her head that is a dark color, her eyes gaze into the camera.  I wonder if she knew her photo was being taken, there is no smile on her face.  A look of saddeness is seen in her eyes, her body language can't be seen because her body is shrouded as well.  Her thin arms and hands peek out from a gap in the garmet.  I can see the pain and a remorse that goes very deep.  I wonder what her life is like as she sits there on the streets of Bali.  Does she dare dream of a different life, and what does she know of life outside of her poverty? 

One Word Prompt  "Claims" - 60 second writing:


I stood in the customer service line for what already seemed like an eternity.  There were hundreds of people in front if me.   All shifting from one foot to the other, they were as exasperated as I am.  WE were to told to have our claims ticket ready when we got to the counter.  My hands were sweaty.  By the time I got to the counter, the numbers had disappeared

WNP:  2/4/13
"I Think I broke it..."



It was a rainy California day, it came down in a deluge.  Jess and Tyler decided to play inside.  The played vigorously on the stair landing of their two story house..  After many shouts to stop, the horseplay, their mother stuck her head out of her bedroom door.  In an exasperated voice she said, "How many times do I have to tell you girls to stop playing near the stairs?  Someone is going to get hurt."She rolled her eye, and shaking her head in disbelief at the girls and returned to cleaning her bedroom.  The vac drowned out any noise they were making.

Of course the girls did not heed their mother's warning.  In the next few minutes Jessica accidentally bumped into Tyler, and down the stairs she rolled and tumbled, grunting and groaning as she seemed to bounce off each step.  Jessica screamed for her mother, she also called out Ty's name.  "Are you ok Ty?  No answer.

Finally hitting the bottom of the stairs, Ty lay there in a heap.  Jessica got their mother's attention.  She would know what to do.  They both ran down the stairs toward Tyler.  Crystal could tell she was injured by the position her right leg was in.  "This doesn't look good," she thought to herself.  She didn't want to alarm the girls, but she could tell that Tyler was in extreme pain and distress.  "Jessica, get my purse and keys,"  we're going to the hospital emergency."

Tyler looked up into her mothers face, crying and sobbing, "I'm sorry mom."

"I know, next time I am sure that you'll heed my warnings about such things."

"Um, hmmn," said Tyler, she looked at Jessica and her mom through tear filled eyes and said..."I think I broke it."

My Personal Musing(s) 2013
Potential and Possibility


I've heard it said numerous times, that he, she, or they, have so much potential.  With an emphasis on "so."  I've never quite understood exactly what that means...  Of course I know the definition, potential:   "ability that may or may not be developed."  Do people live up to their potential?  Do they even know what their potential is, are they oblivious to their potential, or are others simply dictating the potential of   said person? 
Personally, I like to think of it as possibility.   "The state or fact of being affirmable, or attainable." 
Just think of all the possibilities there are in life.  As I am older now, I can appreciate the endless possibilities that existed for me as a young person, and even more the possibilities that exist for me as I grow older.  I have no regrets as I explored many of the possibilities that existed for me, I had the potential,  and I made things happen for me.
No one can stand in your way unless they are allowed the distinct honor of blocking your future, i.e., you allow them to stand at the gate of your future.  Have you perhaps given someone the distinct pleasure or power to hold back your progress?  What or who is it that might be blocking your potential and keeping you from the possibilities that await you?

Face in the mirror Word Prompt 2/3/13

The face staring back at me in the mirror is not mine.  As I stare into the mirror, I wonder who could this person be?  It surely isn’t me, at least the me I know myself to be.  What has happened I wonder, where did the me or my memory and my past escape to?  I touch my face, the feel is different, soft and leathery, pale and wrinkled where it was once smoothe and sublte.  I feel sadness for the face in the mirror, and the life that must have caused such despair that is seen in the eyes.  There is no smile from the lips, nor light in the eyes.  A face that is a blank canvas although there are wrinkles and shading and texture to be captured.  Discovering the face in the mirror, feeling compassion for the face in the mirror, questioning the face in the mirror, and wondering, who could she be?

W NP   2/1/13  

...Colin awoke to find an unkindness of ravens filling the lawn, and a single raven perched expectantly on the front porch

Lying in bed asleep, Colin was suddenly awakened by the caw, cawing and chatter of ravens  flying over the house.  Of late he had noticed their unusal flight pattern, hundreds of birds darkened the sky as they circled the neighborhood and  roosted in the neighboring trees.  It was somewhat unsettling.  He didn't like birds, especially big black birds with their shiny coat and beady eyes that seemed to stare into his soul unafraid.   The usual shoo, shout, clap, or stomp didn't scare these birds away.  For some strange reason they had marked this area as their territory.

Each morning for the past two weeks they took flight with flapping wings and their own special sonar as they darkened the sky once again.  They departed for parts unknown, leaving behind bird crap everywhere. Returning each evening, they began their swan dives and swoops before landing in the trees. This morning was different, there was silence. 

Colin jumped out of bed, grabbed his bathrobe and headed through his cluttered living room, stepping on newspaper and magazines, he slipped and nearly fell.  Grabbing the door knob, he opened the front door.  To his surprise, a lone raven stood on the porch as if awaiting an invitation to enter. There were so many birds they covered  the lawn.  "What the....?" he uttered before quickly shutting the door with a bang.

  Excerpt from:  "Thursday Tea"  by kwilli

Edna

Edna looked around the room at the other ladies, each lost in thought.  She was no different, she thought of her own life, a life filled with adversity, pain, longing, and an illicit love affair.

She held the cup to her lips and smelled the sweet aroma of the tea she was drinking.  No wonder they say that tea is more soothing than coffee.  Today she was drinking a raspberry flavored tea.  The cinnamon scone enhanced the flavor, leaving a wonderful experience of savory delight on her pallet. 

Returning to her thoughts, she had married a man who was much older, and she was now widowed and had been for many years.

In her day, you just didn’t lay down with a man, he courted you, brought you flowers and candy, you went to a movie house, restaurants on Friday and Saturday for a fish dinner with home fries, or sweet potato pie that made your mouth water, rides to the park or in the country. 

She fell in love, in his presence, her heart beat out a rhythm she never knew. She became warm and felt faint whenever he would touch her hand. His kisses, which were sometimes rough, sent a pleasant sensation down her spine.  Little did she know then that she had nothing to compare his kisses to. “Does this feeling lead to more,” she wondered. She wanted the experience of being with Les.  She wanted to please him as he had pleased her with gifts of chocolate turtles, and other treats. Mostly, she wanted happiness like she saw in the movies or in the magazines.  She wanted a husband who would love her and give her children, and a nice home.  She would have dinner ready for him when he returned home from the steel mill, his house slippers at the ready and his pipe filled with tobacco.  She would make his home life perfect. She would always be ready to serve her man, whatever he wanted, she would provide.

The years passed and the love waned, Les drank more and more, and he paid less attention to her,  and in retrospect, she now knew that it wasn’t love at all.  It had never been love on his part.  He needed a maid, someone to do his bidding, and he was willing to pay for what he needed.  When she realized this, her heart began to turn cold toward him.

It was during her marriage to Les that she actually fell in love.  It was unexpected, and he was her husband’s friend.  His name was Carter. He worked with Les at the mill. They were Lodge brothers and attended the same church, and he would visit with them, just dropping in from time to time.  He would come around dinner time having been invited by Les.  Though she was not prepared for a guest, she didn’t mind Carter.  He was friendly, clean, and upright, he always smelled like Old Spice, and he didn’t drink or smoke, his manners were admirable, unlike Les, and she began to take more and more notice of him, and he noticed her.

Carter would watch her as she moved around the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the meal.  Nothing fancy, but to Carter, a bachelor, it was a gourmet meal. With his soft spoken voice, he would comment on the meal, always praising her and thanking her for her hospitality. He would offer to help with the dishes, or clean up the table, while Les walked away into the living room to watch the evening news and to doze after eating a heavy meal.  Les was either unaware of the attraction between the two of them, or, he didn’t care.

Les was 58 when they married, and she was barely 21.  She didn’t know about sex, she was a good Christian girl and wanted to save herself for marriage.  She had fought off many a young man’s advances, their hands like octopus tentacles, seeking regions of her body that not even she had explored. 

Les seemed patient and kind, and he courted her. She mistook all of his attentions as love, but she would not know this until after they were married, and they settled into everyday life. She was never bored taking care of her home and put a lot of effort into maintaining a peaceful retreat.  She turned his plain house into an oasis of comfort.  He never complained and he never complemented or thanked her for her efforts. The pretty curtains and pillows she sewed didn’t mean anything to him. It was the same with her cooking.  She would try various recipes in an attempt to change things up, she added new dishes often, he would suck them down without any thought.

Time passed and it came to be expected that Carter would share many meals with them.  She anticipated his visits, touching his hands in the warm dishwater sent a chill up her spine and he stroked her soapy hands, she would stand stock still while he worked his magic.  She didn’t protest. He would sometimes stand behind her pressing into her body and she would move as if they were dancing, no words were spoken, just his hot breath on her neck or nibbling on her ear.  He wanted her and she could feel it in his body as she leaned back into him. The sometimes daily love dance became more and more heated as her body responded to his every move.  She looked forward to this part of the evening without shame.

Les was totally oblivious to the carryings on in the kitchen, his snoring alerted them that he was dead to the world. While he slept, her world began to change in a most wonderful way. The kitchen was the place where Carter would finally take her.

Standing behind her as was their usual position, he began rubbing her behind and raised her skirt.  She was without panties hoping that the day would come when they would join together, he was mildly surprised and gently turned her around, smiled down into her face, and lifted her to him.

She could hear the loud snoring of Les in the next room as she softly moaned in Carter’s ear, her hands stroking and touching him.  He held her tightly like he never wanted to let her go. She could feel his body shiver in delight as they began to move in unison. Their soft moans were the music that they moved to.

Their affair continued for years, with stolen moments when they could lie together when Les worked overtime at the mill.  Carter was her husband.  Les had stopped touching her as he aged, sex was less frequent, two, maybe three times a year, but with Carter, it only increased.

When Les died many years later, she and Carter maintained their habit of sharing dinner and washing the dishes.  They shared her bed in the evenings, their loving remained passionate all these years, and he would always leave before daylight.  They never married, but to this day, he is her man. 

She looked over the rim of the tea cup and a smile crossed her lips as she looked at the ladies talking.  No one knew her secret love, and they never would. 

WNP: 012913    “The desperate forty-niner took one last scoop of gravel into the pan and slowly started to shake it.”

Holding his breath, Smitty closed his eyes and said a silent prayer.  Working the mine was not an easy task, but the rewards would pay off big one day.  It had to.  He had taken all of his savings to stake this claim. Perhaps today would be the day.  He had staked out his claim more than a year ago and he was losing hope he was desperate for some sign...  Fortunately, the past few days there appeared to be signs that there might be gold at this site.  He looked up at the sky and the sun was beating down on him, it was so hot, he thought, “It must be a hundred degrees out here…can’t stop now.” Even though the sun was burning him through his shirt,  and sweat came through every pore in his body, he continued to dig.  He wiped the sweat from his eyes, and gulped down a swig of water. His arms ached from the digging and lifting, they cried out for some rest, a brief respite would do.  He was operating by rote. He ignored his aching body and forged ahead. Scoop after scoop he threw into the pan and slowly began to shake it, and there it was, the glimmer of a prize…

WNP:  1/25/13    The gardeners shovel hit something solid...


Nuchii and Chico walked across the lawn to the spot where they would plant the young sapling.  Looking up at the sky, they noticed that clouds were gathering and the sunny day had now become overcast. 
Nuchii said to Chico, "We gotta hurry, looks like rain."
"I don't care about the rain, I wanna get this job done, now," said Chico as he too looked up at the ominous clouds that threatened rain.
Walking to the dilapidated shed, they gathered the shovel and spade.
Looking at the spade, Nuchii asked, "what're we gonna do with this?"
"You're gonna help babe, two can work faster than one."
They both shoved their shovels into the soil where the tree would go.  Hard at first, it became easier to shovel and they tossed the dirt in a pile.  Stopping to stretch out her back, Nuchii wasn't keeping up her end and Chico is irritated but remains silent.  He continues to dig working off his anger at Nuchii.
About two feel down, there was a loud clunk, he hit something solid. He tried again, again, the same dull clunk.
They eagerly fell to their knees and reached into the hole with their bare hands and began to remove the dirt.  "There's something down there," said Nuchii.  She was barely able to contain her excitement.
"I wonder what it is," asked Chico, "think maybe there's a hidden treasure?"

Books I've Read: 2012/2013

Home  by Toni Morrison                                   Darkness My Old Friend  by Lisa Unger
The Inner Circle  by Brad Meltzer                      Creep  by Jennifer Hillier
Odd Apocalypse  by Dean Koonts                     Lethal  by Sandra Brown
Mudwoman  by Joyce Carol Oates                    The Crazy School   by Cornelia Read                  
The Killing Floor  by Lee Child                           Their Eyes Were Watching God  by  Z.N. Hurston
The Alchemist  by Paulo Coelho                          When the Thrill is Gone  by Walter Mosely
Ghost Writer  by Travis Thrasher                         Eight Days to Live  by Iris Johansen
Cat of the Century  by Rita M. Brown                  The World According to Bertie  by A.McC. Smith
Pearls For A King  b Dorth Scharlemann              The Red Queen by Phillip Gregory
Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie  by                  Little Bee  by Chris Cleave
Girl W Dragon TAtto by S. Larson                       Girl Who Kicked The Hornest Nest by S. Larson
The Girl Who Played W Fire by S. Larson            Frankenstein  by Mary Shelley
Stolen  by Lucy Christopher                                  Cleopatra  by Schiff
Will Grayson Will Grayson                                    A Stree Car Named Desire  by  T. Williams
Traveling W Pomegranites  by S. Monk Kidd        Chocolat  by J. Harris
The Immortal Henrietta Lacks by R. Shlost             The Help
Frankenstein  by Dean Koontz                               Bel CAnto  by Ann Patchett
The Hunger Games Trilogy

'''WNP:  YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS...

Anxiously Bandy waited, tapping her foot on the tile floor.  She looked around the sterile bathroom.  It seemed time had stood still since she entered  through the door.  She had hastily purchased the test...her anxiety continued to mount.  Beads of sweat popped like little raid drops on her forehead. 
Sitting atop the toilet seat she crossed her legs, leaned forward and held her chin in her hands.  The watch on her wrist continued to tick.
"This is making me crazy...I have to know soon," she thought anxiously.  She picked up the box again to be sure she had followed the directions correctly.  She wasn't one to follow directions, she just kind of hapharzardly went about her life.  This time was different, she had to be sure, she had to know. 
Looking at her watch again, she breathed deeply, "not yet, not yet", the seconds seemed to say to her.
In attempt to kill time, she began to pull open drawers in the vanity, since this wasn't her house, she found the items inside intriguing.  She pulled back the shower curtain to look at the tub, "nothing special," she commented aloud.  She took off her right shoe and rubbed her feet in the fluffly rug.  For a moment she forgot what she was doing.  Another glance at her watch...soon she would know,she had only ten seconds to go.

Today's five minute writing exercise:  Topic:  Tell/Show Empathy

The warm weather, the clouds in the sky ,  the sunshine, and the headstones that stood like sentinels in the vast expanse of green grass were and insult to the emotion Stella felt.  The open grave gaped at the mourners and felt no empathy for those standing near the coffin.  Saddness and tears could not stop the inevitable.  Buried.  Stella stood by in shock, her life had been in a daze since the accident.  "She's gone," she uttered quietly through her tears.  "My baby is gone, my little girl.  In a box, forever frozen in time, always my little girl.
Alphia stepped closer to her friend and eased her arm around Stella's waist.  She could feel the sobs wracking her body.  Stella responded silently as she turned her tear stained face toward Alphia.
Alphia spoke in her ear.  "I'm with you Stella, I'm here for you," she said in a whisper and not expecting and answer.  Stella looked into her friends eyes, she didn't utter a word, but she knew in her heart that Alphia would always be by her side.  Alphia continued to embrace her friend. 
The embrace steadied Stella, she gathered strength and love from Alphi's nearness. 
Together they stood, not alone, feeling each others pain at the loss of Stella's baby girl Cissy.

The worn wooden box sat on the floor for days.  It was a large box with wooden slats that had splinters sticking out.  Several times I scratched my leg as I tried to ease past it.  There was no sign on the box alluding to its contents…none-the-less I wondered.  My curiosity was getting the best of me.  I tried moving the box with my right foot, scarring the beautiful wood floor.  I only managed to scratch the floor.  Darnit, that would mean fixing the floor, more work.  Nothing rattled inside of the box, it seemed to be solid.  Driven by more curiosity, I bent over to lift the box from the floor.  No dice, I couldn’t budge it.  I worked out at the gym regularly, this box was a huge challenge.  I stared at the box, walked around it, looking for a place where I could pry open the box. 

“Damn,” I said to no one in particular.  “Who does this darned box belong to?  Where does it come from, and what is inside of it?”  At that moment Hubble walked into the room.  He looked at me with his hands on his hips.  He stood in the doorway with a smirk on his face.

The first question out of his mouth, “hey, girl, what’s in the box?”  I looked at him like he was crazy.  How the heck should I know?”

“I just thought,” he stuttered, meeting my gaze.

In exasperation I took a deep breath and rolling my eyes, “Hubble, I have no idea what’s in that box.  I don’t even know who it belongs to, or where it came from.  It’s been here for nearly a week.”

"Well,"  he said, " don’t you think we should open and see what’s inside?"

“How?”

“Simple,” he said with a smile on his face and a mischevious  gleem in his eyes.  "We’re going to pry it open with a crowbar.”