The sun is starting to slip below the clouds — another day at its end.
I glance out my window.
All I see is peace. And the balloon wavering silently.
All I hear is the wind and my thoughts.
After a long day, I’m grateful to have found my way back home to the sky. Away from the rat race.
This wooden refuge does connect me, but I am far above all the noises and struggles from down below.
The clouds nestle me and silence the stress and hectic of the world.
And I’m calm again.
Cindy whispered to her antique doll, Abigail, in her lap. Careful not to muss her up too much, she delicately arranged her position. While her mother cooked, the child nodded her head as she turned in her direction.
“Mama, when did Grandma Francis give you Abigail?” referring to her favorite doll.
“Let me think. I was probably about four years old just like you. My mom told me that her mother had gotten Abigail when she was four years old as well. Why do you ask?” Cindy’s mother replied.
“Oh, Abigail said Victoria owned her first. Do I know her?”
I know you want your dreams to come true, have your happiness magnified and gain comfort as a result. Let me be the first to say – hope you’ll be the first to achieve it.
So let me wish you a marriage as tumultuous as a 3 am trot to the bathroom – predictable and uneventful. And may you have a sex life as exciting as being the survivor of slasher movies – adrenaline surging and you come out on top.
Good luck, good love and let’s hope karma is bullshit.
Motherhood meant striving to give them the best of me they were deserving of then realizing they were rewarding me with more value than I had to offer.
Years of moments – delicious, frustrating, hurt, joyful, enlightening, spontaneous, fun, sad – quickly turned both into young men. Adults venturing out into the world, and away from me.
As new chapters develop in their lives, I’m looking forward to their stories, their adventures. As they offer the world the best of themselves, may life reciprocate and give back in abundance what they so richly deserve.
***the names have been changed to protect the innocent.
His end was near, didn’t know it though. He was clueless.
Her knuckles tightened around the elegantly shaped wine glass. Instinct and rage fueled the glass crashing into the side of the table. Only one crescent-shaped shard fell away.
It was the perfect edge to damage a pulsing artery.
She gracefully, furiously, lunged for the side of his throat. His vital organ cut wide-open. A rhythmic stream began pumping out, gushing blood down and out over his body. With stunned horror, he gripped his throat to stop the bleeding.
A dolt will share an impressively ignorant stance, his nescience glaringly obvious. Laughter ensues, then a realization it’s a heart-breaking moment. The lame-brained contribute zilch to the betterment of our people or our planet. If they only knew they were stupid.
It sounds so incredibly judgmental because it is. Our society expects only top-quality people to reside in it but is the business of going about life top-quality? Seems like a time for reflection of our expectations. Let’s understand that each contribution made is as messy as life itself. That’s the territory we’re in. We have not yet reached perfection.