our future

Stars are the past and our future.  Endless possibilities reside in the open spaces between the twinkling lights.  One day we will be out there and it will be our intermittent beacon showing up in the sky years after we’ve become dust. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Word Count:  42 This quick little space opine was written in response to the inaugural gargleblaster at Yeah Write:

“What’s so amazing that keeps us stargazing?

Remember: your job is to answer the question in 42 words. Don’t think you have to take it literally, either – be creative, and be intentional with your words.” ….. And you, dear kingdomites, why do you look to the heavens?

cat adoptions today

The Queen and I had seen the sign before.  We hadn’t quite figured out the when, the routine, of its appearance as we went about our errands in the same shopping center, but we had definitely noticed it.  The sign made it perfectly clear what we would find should we venture inside, should we decide to test our resolve.  We weren’t brave enough, though.  We weren’t strong enough to withstand the pressure.

That remained true until we bought our first home.  Suddenly, with the scribbling of a couple signatures, the signing away of most of our savings, the packing, moving, and unpacking, a new world had been opened to us.  Boldly, we parked and walked by the sign, the doors parted and we found ourselves in unfamiliar territory.  The three simple words on the sign outside didn’t truly prepare us for what was waiting inside: Cat Adoptions Today.

We talked to the shelter volunteers handling the adoptions.  We petted and held several different kittens.  We learned about shots and food and litter and toys and sleeping habits.  These were all things the Queen and I had already known, having grown up in houses with cats, but they were all things we needed to hear again because in those houses we hadn’t been solely responsible for the purring denizens of chaos and love.  In the end, we signed more paperwork than we had to buy our condo.

Walking in we knew that taking a kitten home was a real possibility.  We knew that if we saw one that called out to us we would be powerless to do anything but cuddle her and make her part of our family.  We hadn’t known that there would be two kittens that called to us.

The Queen and I doubled our little family that day.  Our new home became Sara and Belle’s new home too and our lives would never be the same again.

                           

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This is my submission for this week’s Yeah Write Writing Challenge:

crushed

He stood there and screamed nonsensical jumbles of words at me, and all these years later I can’t remember if he was actually yelling gibberish or if I remember it that way because I wasn’t listening to him and what he said was never of any consequence.

It was lunch and I was eating in the shaded corridor between two buildings.  I’d learned months before that lunch was a time for sitting alone, doing homework, and, most importantly, hiding from my tormentors.  And, as it was approaching summer in the desert, the shady spot was essential for staying comfortable when not tucked away in an air-conditioned classroom.  Still, staying in one place meant that those kids who liked to push buttons, who like to test boundaries, who liked to pants kids smaller than them, who liked to take away school books and throw them in the trash, who liked to be bullies, could find me.

Sometimes they’d pass me by without a word, sometimes they tease me and try to get a rise out of me.  That day, one of them stood on my backpack and yelled at me as I sat and ate my lunch.  His two goons flanked him and laughed as the scene unfolded.  I did nothing.  Half a sandwich in one hand.  A water bottle grasped in the other.  He threw his arms about wildly and did a little dance on my backpack and then he moved on.  I could hear their laughter bouncing off the walls.

It was then that the horror of what had just happened set in.

He stood on my backpack.

The backpack contained the art project I had spent half a semester working on, had finally been graded, and was ready to be taken home: a paper mache mask.  I quickly opened up the pack, my fingers were trembling and I felt a huge swell of hope that somehow it had managed to survive, even when I knew there was no way it could withstand the weight.  My eyes took in the crushed edges, the split crease down the middle, the complete destruction.

I don’t remember how I got there, but the next thing I remember I was crying in the principal’s office, trying to get out the details between sobs.  I don’t remember anything I said then.  I don’t remember anything he said either, but I do remember that the bully was suspended for a week and had to do community service.

It didn’t seem like enough

It still doesn’t.

That art class was one of the classed I enjoyed the most in junior high.  I had looked forward to going to it everyday, to seeing what project we were going to work on next.  After that afternoon it never felt the same, and I never took another art class.

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Written for this week’s Yeah Write:

I took a top row five spot again! Thanks for all the support:

one last goodbye

I couldn’t believe he was gone.

TV and movies had lied to me.  These things were supposed to happen slowly over time.  I was supposed to get a call that the end was near so I could race to his side, spend a few more minutes with him, share one last laugh, one last story, and tell him I loved him.  I was supposed to be able to say goodbye.

Instead, when the call came, he was already gone.  It wasn’t entirely unexpected because he had been in and out of the hospital, but it still took me by surprise.  I felt cheated.  I felt angry with the world for taking such a great man.  He was one of the reasons they called it the Greatest Generation.

I felt a sense of loss that I had never experienced before.

I was supposed to get to say goodbye, wasn’t I?

Between my school schedule and coordinating with other family members who wanted to attend, the funeral was held a couple weeks later.  When we showed up, dressed in our blacks, heads low, emotions running high, I did a great job of holding back my tears.  I pretended to be stoic, pretended like I was okay.

Before the ceremony my Uncle planned on adding a few finishing touches to my grandfather, putting on his cap and glasses and a few other things to make him seem more like the man he was, and he asked if I wanted to take that opportunity to say goodbye.

I did.  I followed him into the room with the casket.  I was supposed to say goodbye.  It’s what the films and the shows had taught me needed to be done.  TV and movies had lied to me again.

It was one of the greatest mistakes of my life.  All pretense gone, I fled the room with tears running down my cheeks.  Sobbing.  Crushed.  Broken.

I will forever be haunted by the image of my grandpa resting in his casket.  It wasn’t the man I had known, I barely recognized the figure inside, the spark was gone.  I should have stayed away.  I should have left my memories untarnished by that final image.  I should have known that I could say goodbye without having to stand there next to that empty shell.  I should have had faith that he was well aware that I loved him.

I should have known that there was no need to say goodbye because he would live on in my heart and in my thoughts.  He lives there still, and always will.

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Written for this week’s Yeah Write Writing Challenge:

And I was one of the Editor’s picks!!

the schizophrenic in my room

My mom met me at the door between the garage and kitchen.  She’d been waiting to hear me get home so she could give me some sort of warning of what I was about to face.  The strain of the early afternoon she had already lived through was evident in her features.  She quickly explained the situation to me, and when we had gathered our bravery, our mental strength, we went inside.

He had isolated himself, for the moment, in my room.  It was at the end of the hall, as far from the living spaces of the house as he could get while still being in the house.  I remember thinking it was odd that he thought this was a safe place for him to come, a home he had only been to a handful of times over the years, but he still didn’t trust us enough to be around us.

I sat at the kitchen table and started going through my homework.  I didn’t have anything that needed immediate attention, but I needed to do something to keep myself occupied.  The sound of commotion coming from the end of the hall pulled me away from the table and down towards my room, compelled to protect my home even as I was terrified of what might happen if I invaded his privacy.

A new wave of paranoia had gripped him and he couldn’t understand why my bedroom didn’t have a door.  In his panic he had begun to fortify the doorway with anything and everything he could from my room.  Somehow, I convinced him that he was safe and rather than tearing apart my room I could bring him a cardboard box from the garage and we would create a door.  That calmed him down.  For a time.

The rest of the afternoon has been reduced to a series of snapshots in my mind, where I can picture a specific moment but nothing that led to it or followed.  There were moments where I feared for him, my mom and myself.  There were moments of lucidness where he seemed normal, like the family friend my brother had gone through scouts with.

Eventually his parents came and convinced him that he’d be okay if he went home with them.  I remember wondering what had taken them so long.  I remember sighing with relief when he was out of the house.  I remember trying to understand what had happened to him and not being able to.

Over the years the images of that afternoon have faded in my head.  If I had written this story the following day, month, year, I could have filled multiple posts with the sights, sounds, and thoughts from those few hours.  However, I will never forget the look on my mom’s face when I got home, and the relief I felt after his parents had taken him away.

I didn’t judge him, but I did fear him.

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Update: I won a top row award (I was one of the five favorite posts) for this one! Thanks to all who voted for me.