Your Days

it was coming
i knew it with certainty
and distractions from the truth
failed me

when the phone call came
i braced myself in steely opposition
hardening my body against the cruel words
i was about to hear

she’s dead

only screams of sorrow
and heavy sobs of tears escaped me
i was now in a world
which felt empty and hollow

her eagerness to listen
her kind and gentle ways gone
the smiles and caring on her face
would happen no more

i pushed the receiver from my ear
as if to push away the truth
but knowing that mourning had begun
a new reality, one hard to face

feeling empty without her presence
i was born into a lonely place
her voice and body only in memories now
i miss her grace, her love and her acceptance

time took forever to heal the loss i felt
the place in my heart where she took up residence
darkened, and shriveled up
the air thicker as i inhaled only tears

the light she shone came to an end
but the warmth she gave continues
i always try to celebrate the day she was born
but the day she left, i mourn

Image Credit – Angéle Kamp @ Unsplash

I thank VJ and Sadje for inspiring thoughts of my special friendship. Guess I needed a good cry today. I dedicate this piece to Bana – a wonderful human being and such a catalyst for good – she will always be remembered with a smile and a tear.

Jumping on the Friend Appreciation Train!!

Thanks for the idea, Laleh!! ❤

What an absolutely wonderful idea to help our readers promote their books! Without the loyal show of support of my readers, I wouldn’t be seeing the consistent and continually growth on I Write Her that I am experiencing, so this is my way of saying THANK YOU!! I don’t have as many followers as Laleh but every little bit of recognition and promotion helps! Please consider doing something similar on your page for your readers. 🙂

So, if you have a book or books, please post a link in the comments and I’ll do the rest! I look forward to you seeing your links in the comments!


Led Astray – Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

“Whatever happened between you and Leslie?” Looking at him empathically, knowing it may be a bit too personal. “If it’s too painful or none of my business, I’ll understand.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Eliott answered as he adjusted himself in his chair. “It helps to talk about it. Plus, I sometimes find that I zone in on something else that can answer deeper questions for me when I do.”

I was all ears. Perhaps what broke up the marriage could help me make Eliott understand I always was a better match for him. Sighing internally, I realized I’d had more than just a crush on him back then and more so today.

“We had a good marriage, but the problems started when I mismanaged our financials. I was spending way too much, and it put us into debt.” He looked very embarrassed but continued with the details behind the eventual demise of the marriage.

“On top of the problems I was having, I started drinking too much, which led me down an even worse path. It was a vicious circle. I was depressed because of my problems, then drank to self-medicate. It was no wonder that I lost everything. Leslie finally had enough and filed for divorce. That’s what happens when someone becomes more dependent on finding relief in the bottle than facing the problems head-on and working with their partner to solve them.” He leaned back in the chair with a big sigh.

“Wow. That takes a big man to admit his mistakes,” I said with pride for him in my voice.

Eliott shook his head and smiled, “Well, I wouldn’t say I’m a big man, rather a flawed human who had a lot of growing up to do.” Does it ever stop with you being so humble, Eliott? Internally I was giddy that with us hitting it off so well now, this might turn into the relationship I’d hoped for in the past!

“I hate to cut you short now, Eliott, but I have to go home now. Sadly, I’ve got an early morning meeting scheduled, and it’s getting late.” Plus, I need some time to stalk you a bit on Google tonight!

“Oh, I understand completely!” he said very empathetically. “Let’s get you home,” he said as we both stood up and headed out the door.

I turned to say goodbye with a little bit of sadness as we were waiting for the cab. “Thanks for the evening, Eliott. It’s been wonderful seeing you again and having the chance to talk after all these years.”

“The pleasure has been all mine,” he said as he embraced me warmly before I got into the car.


Hello, Google, thanks for being my friend. Wow, I was finding nothing but gold! He sure has built himself an impressive resume online. More affirmation that I needed to continue to pursue him. Hold on, what’s this?

The headline read, “Stedman linked to the rich heiress’s disappearance,” prompting an immediate twitch in me.


Led Astray – Part 1

“Maxie!” yelled this handsome man coming in my direction. Chicago sure produced many of his kind, but his broad smile was inviting, and he did look so familiar. I returned the smile. Slowly, I realized who he was.

“Eliott Stedwell! Oh my gosh, it’s been way too long! How have you been?” I said, wrapping him in my arms with a heartfelt hug.

“Pretty good, actually,” he said with confidence. “Life is treating me well now, I must say.”

“So, are you living in Chicago now?” I asked, hoping it was true. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander over his face with delight. He was still hot as ever, with the charm to match. God, those eyes!

“Well, for the time being, yes,” he said quickly. “But only temporarily. I’m running a self-help seminar at Conference Chicago on State St. It’s a short-term engagement, not just one talk but a series of them taking place over two weeks. The location is perfect because they also offer housing for my attendees, and me, of course. With the meal plans included, it made it rather reasonable for everyone.”

“Wow! That’s interesting, Eliott. I didn’t know you were on the lecture circuit as a motivational speaker. Do you work for yourself or a company?”

“It is my company, but I didn’t start out that way. I got into it because of a seminar led by Jack Canfield. I had a rough patch a few years back, which led to some dark times for me,” he said earnestly. “A friend of mine recommended his course, hoping it could turn things around for me. And did it ever; it was the best thing I could have done for myself!” Yeah, I could see that. He seemed very confident, happy, and of course, hella good-looking to me! I noticed Eliott was wearing a pretty expensive suit, so it really must have worked out to his benefit financially too.

“Well, good for you,” I said with a big smile for him. “That makes me happy to know you are in a good place now. Hey, if you aren’t in a rush, do you want to grab some coffee and catch up some more?” Even though I had a few pressing errands to do, I was glad for the distraction, not wanting to do them anyway.

“Yeah, sure, then I can tell you more about how I went from being a total clod to a minor success,” Eliott said with a boyish grin as we started heading in the direction of the nearest Starbucks.

“Right, minor success,” I said, poking him in the shoulder. “From what I can tell, you seem to be enjoying major success!”

We spent the next few hours reminiscing about old times, mostly but also where our lives had taken us in the last few years.

“Say, I do have to give a seminar later today, but I wondered if you would like to have dinner afterward?” He looked at me, hoping I would say yes.


It’s Blue And I Think Of You

Each morning, out of the corner of my left eye, the box steals my attention, just for a moment. I glance back to the woman in the mirror and begin the ritual called the start of my day. Shades of red, dabs of matte, outlines of eyes, a misting of the gold locks complete the routine of being presentable.

I rise naked to determine my wardrobe next. The box is again to the left, at my feet. About three feet of space that holds my youthful indiscretions, mostly joys but some admonitions. All my sentimental worthlessness squirreled away, hidden from the world, backed into the closet.

This box, my legacy of intimacies and sheltered private moments, up until my very end, will absorb more recordings of my life. I’ve said it’s my world to escape to when all I’ve got is seclusion and disease, propelling me towards the next phase of this journey. At my end, wanting to recapture the feels by dallying in the dull personal but nostalgic days of my existence. I want to revel one last time in my past, then let it all burn.

My dear friend balked when I told him my plan. He said the world should know of the events which shaped the woman the rest of the world sees. But it’s private, I said. Of course, he nodded, but it’s all the special in you. It’s the why of how you came to be. It’s the treasures kept hidden that deserve to live beyond your death.

I’ve decided to strike a deal with that dear friend. I will stick to my plan of charring all of what remains of my past should he die before me. But if I leave this planet and he’s alive, it’s my parting gift to him. May it bring him some joy to get to know the different stages of the girl I was before our paths crossed and intertwined. I’ll bet he’ll giggle, then cry.

My Angel

memories are a bitch
bubbling up
from depths
mourned long ago
tears falling
without consequence
my friend, you are missed


I was in my early 20s when I lost my good friend, Jerry Angeline, in a vehicle accident. His death impacted me deeply. This was our song and what triggered a flood of memories recently. It still hurts.



some might say
serendipitous encounters
others would declare
destined connections
when life grants us
unbreakable bonds

i am humbled
i am in awe

beauty is pure love
filling in voids
never knowing
we had within
carefully caressing
old wounds

i am healed
i am alive

these moments
of connection
give us purpose
enrich and nurture
our souls
find the meaning

i am grateful
i am calm


Fake, Not Dope


Presenting the gaggle, yes you.

Oh, do keep your insincerity down.

You sit and throw compliments at each other.

Faux kisses languishing in the air.

So loud as to not be believed.

You support nothing but your own agendas.

Every group has a leader who runs them.

One kowtows in silence for rewards of pleasure.

Another wants to be liked to the detriment of others.

The other doesn’t want to go against the crowd.

What a group of insincere cowards.

You spout off privately “reality, being genuine, love.” then act like little plastic dolls.

You wouldn’t know what real was if it hit you in the face.

Oh yeah, it has, but you dismiss it.

Authenticity doesn’t really fit in your group, or?

Well, fuck you.

Real people don’t hang with fake bitches anyway.


*Originally published here 3/21/18