Two AM comes mighty fast no matter what time you drift off to sleep. It’s not that Jake wanted to wake up at around this time every day, he just did. The dream was always the same. He woke in a puddle of his own sweat, in his dingy little room just north of the Financial District near China Town. Always the same city sounds outside and that damned flashing sign just outside his window. On nights like this, he often wished he could just fight back in his dreams but he couldn’t.
He heard from friends about them being able to control their dreams; however this was not something he yet knew how to do. The dreams started when he was 14. He watched a man come in and slaughter his mother in front of him. From his hidey hole in the stereo cabinet. He watched the intruder laugh maniacally as he strung his mother up by her feet and placed the turkey pan underneath her. As she tried to scream through her gagged mouth, he slit her a new smile. Literally ear to ear, and just as careful. The man left after taking some money she apparently had stowed away in the kitchen.
Watching that intruder walk away with that fist full of ten light purple banded stacks of cash as he cackled his path out the door enraged him. Further, afraid the man would come back, he had no option but to watch his mother bleed out into the pan on the floor. Only after it was nearly full did Jake dare to venture out of his secluded safety spot.
In reality, he packed a book bag with a few changes of clothes, a few comic books, and made a couple sandwiches. He paused by his mother long enough to regard her condition, forever burning it into his memory, and told her he loved her, that he was sorry. He left the apartment door open and walked away. Upon reaching the ground floor, he went out into the street and became part of the city.
All these years, he could clearly see that mans face and it haunted his dreams every day since. In his dreams, the man always came back and did the same to Jake. Jake often wished he did. That man took away the only somebody that ever loved him and the only somebody who could understand the nightly terrors he had to go through. As usual, Jake could not go back to sleep. He decided to head out and find something open to have a coffee or a beer. Depending on what he happened upon first. In a city like this, it was like a game of chance.
Finding a bar open, and luckily with only a few patrons, Jake meandered up to the bar and took up real estate on the bar stool. After a few moments, the barkeep asked what was Jakes poison. Asking for a beer, the barkeep popped one open. As he magically produced a paper coaster and firmly set the bottle down upon it, he said. “Whoa, you look like you have had a lifetime of rough nights.” Jake simply replied, “Yeah, must be a curse.” At that the barkeep laughed. Jake looked up and his blood ran cold.
He knew that laugh and he knew that face… the face of his nightmares…
What do YOU think?
The continuing saga of the appliance rebellion…
I know. It’s been a while since I have been at odds with the electronics and appliances in the home. However, this one happened a few months back and it just occurred to me that maybe the television and stove is in cahoots with other appliances and devices in my home. Gosh help me if the computers decide to get in on the revolution going on in my home. I am of the masses of human beings who love to play the game with the microwave where you snatch open the door with one second remaining to avoid hearing the beeps of the microwave. Yes, I admit it to the masses. I am a fan of opening the door at one second.
This one particular day, obviously after I had gotten good at it, I had snatched open the door, as per my custom. I had something else to heat up after my coffee on this day. Saturday mornings, I tend to eat breakfast when I have my coffee. You know how it is. there is not any work, work to be done and you can have your coffee when the sun is actually out, dancing around the kitchen with the birds, Snoopervisors in Tutus, all of that… ah, but I digress. I put my breakfast in the microwave to nuke it and watched the countdown begin. I was wrapped up in a television commercial, thus not hearing the beep. Or so I thought …
I turned around and it felt strange not to hear the three beeps that everyone is accustomed to when the microwave is done doing it’s nukeful magic. In wonder, I put an additional ten seconds on the microwave and watched it this time. There was no sound. The microwave not only had refused to tell me that it was complete, it was not beeping when I pushed the buttons.
Had someone been a fly on the wall, they would have noted me looking around guiltily as I pulled my breakfast out of the microwave, scooped up my mug of java, and quietly tiptoed to the living room where I set up camp on the couch to work on my #SOCS. It was still early for the other inhabitants of this domicile and no one seen me and the microwave have our non-discussion.
Later, the 11 year old sleepily comes meandering to the kitchen and proceeds to heat up a hot pocket or whatever it was that he was wanting in his still sleepy state of hunger. Normally, this kid will go back to his room. However, he lingered in the kitchen a bit longer than normal. I look up and begin watching his reflection in the television. For a moment, he stands there staring at the microwave, then he turns to look in my direction and then back to the microwave. In reply, the microwave just stops. Being the one kid who has inherited so many of my genetic thought processes, he puts an additional ten seconds on his hot pocket and I can see him tilt his head to the side just a tad. Of course, no beeping with the buttons and no beeping announcing the end of the microwave magic.
This lovely child, now obviously awake, prances into the living room and plops down on the couch next to me, as if he was interested in what I was doing. I can say, writing is not one of the past times he inherited from me. He is, however, a voracious reader. Anyway…. “Mom?” he says to me. “Yes?” I innocently reply. “The microwave is not beeping anymore.
What happened next made me stop writing and just close my laptop. Once I stop procrastinating and sit down to work on something, it takes nearly an act of God to make me get up or not finish. This was more so an act of Cal. From his spot, snoozing on the other couch, the love of my life, without even opening his eyes or moving announces that “Mommy broke the microwave.”
Uh…yeah. I just closed my laptop, sat back, and finished drinking my coffee. The gig was up. I was busted. The appliances are still out to get me, and I had Guilty tattooed in invisible ink on my forehead. Still, a year later, it reappears in neon letters across my forehead every time I or someone else uses the microwave. I have been marked.
They are still out to get me.
What do YOU think?
Interesting read and killer cover art! If not purchasing, feel free to leave a review! As we all know, getting our work in front of more faces always helps!
We try to make some sense out of this weird brutal world. The problem is that the sense we’re making has the power f*ck us up inside and that’s what really matters. WE are the ones seeing the world so WE are the ones deciding how it is and we can only do it for us. The life we’re living has an unique sense because we’re the ones living it. Two different people can see the same life differently; therefore, what’s inside our head makes the difference.
I believe that people need to be more aware of how important the inside universe really is so I wrote a book to bring some awareness in this area along with some tools that can help us re-gain the control over our thought process and over our emotions.
How satisfied are you with your life? If you believe there is…
View original post 131 more words
We have all seen the videos of some white lady berating someone who is not white for existing. I never thought I would see it in real life. That thinking has a lot of fallacy, however. After all, I live in the deep south. Further, I live in one of the least progressive states when it comes to racial equality and segregation of the economic classes. I simply hate going out in public because I hear rich people having loud conversations in public where they talk down about someone who obviously does not sneeze $100 bills when they are sick or are out of place in a store like Home Goods or something. It makes me just want to go trip those people and tell them to get a grip and act like a human instead of a dumb azz.
I was running errands today. We all know I love to get my cardio in and it was an okay day outside. So, I decided to walk. As I came into a parking lot, there was a woman walking into the parking lot at another entrance. As she started to cross the vehicle entrance, she decided to just start walking in the right of way as a car was turning into the shopping center parking lot. As she did, she slowed her pace and this forced the car to stop behind her. As it came to a stop, she began to walk even slower and was in such a spot that there was no way for the car to go around her. In frustration, the person driving the car beeped the horn at her. The woman turned around and began yelling obscenities at the car and, after a few more minutes of this, the car beeped again. This made the lady scream a few more unpopular words in the cars direction and she marched off into the store.
I witnessed all of this as I went into the store and up to the customer service counter. Since I was waiting, I had decided to re-tie my shoes. Just for something to do I guess. As I was finishing one shoe and moving to the other, I heard a familiar voice. This woman had come from the back of the store and up to this man and his wife just screaming at them that they were harassing her and if they blew their horn at her again she was going to call the police as they had no right to blow their horn at her because she has rights. I stopped for a moment and watched. I mean, it was one of those videos in real life! Just, wow. It is really a sad site more so in person. Videos really do these situations no justice.
The more upset the woman became, the louder she got. She kept telling them if they did not shut up and stop talking to her, she would call the police and continued on about the horn and stuff. I mean, it was crazy. The couple tried to explain that she was walking in the middle of the road where the cars drive but the woman was too busy yelling obscenities, threats to call the police and waving her umbrella in such a manner that the man of the couple had to take a couple steps back. Ultimately, the wife pulled the husband back and the woman, who was still threatening to call the cops on them for blowing their horn at her in a threatening manner, started to air her frustrations to another patron in the store. Quite loudly I might add.
As the couple walked by, the wife spoke an embarrassed “hello” to me. I smiled, said hello and return and then looked at her with a straight face and said:
“White people! I swear!”
We all know I am not a minority here, neither was the lady with the umbrella. The couple? They were black. See how that all went down now? Well, the wife certainly stopped on a dime when I completed my statement. From my spot, putting the last knot in my shoes, I stood up and looked at her and apologized for that womans’ behavior because not all white people act like that and she was making me look bad. Gratefully, the wife looked at me and said thank you. She went on to say that I didn’t have to, but it was just that some people are crazy. I conceded. They really are.
What it boils down to is that there are ways in which certain people were raised that cause them to dislike people who are not like them. There are also things that people want to blindly believe that make them think that treating another human as something less than human is okay. Yes, this country has come a long way from what it was 200 years ago. However, as humans, this country and many others, still have a long way to go.
Philosophers chalk it up to the whole good cannot exist without evil argument. Politicians call it socioeconomic class struggles. The uninformed will call it a race thing. Still others, who are clueless remain sheep and tend to blindly follow what the masses are doing, or at least what their immediate masses are doing. Tis a shame. Maybe we should have a degree so that we can differentiate who the real humans are and who those hate-filled, for no good reason, people are and everyone can learn to get along and breathe the same air together.
I am not going to end this post as I normally do. Just know that if there is anything that is even remotely alluding to something derogatory or talking down or ugly to someone else who airs their valid opinion, it will be reported and removed. While I welcome discussion, I don’t welcome arguments and hate speech. Calling names is just as childish as umbrella lady and, as humans (and adults) there is a way to have a difference of opinion and a healthy discussion.
Now, please comment and discuss. I do want to hear your opinions.
There it is. My job here is done! Before we begin, know that this sappy post was brought to you by↓↓↓
A fun little way to spend a morning writing about whatever comes to mind, especially after fighting a supposedly epic battle with a dying phone charger just to ensure your son won’t oversleep and make it to work late. OR, while sipping your coffee while morphing into a human and you have a sever distaste for TV. Gotta love being a homoSAPien!
Ah, but I digress, or did I? This is supposed to be whatever comes to mind, right? Oh, I think this would be a grand idea for the month of September. Think about it. At least once every month, choose the first three letters of the month and change the vowel in them and try to use all of them in a stream of nothing while talking about anything and everything. Wow, what a super idea, don’t you think? Maybe. I should look into that and try it on one of my other pages. Makes for interesting writing and mind exercise. Thanks Linda G Hill! Let me take a sip because it is before sunrise and coffee time…
Okay so here we go. I am going to try a paragraph for each one. Hehehe!
Deep in the Sapphire Forest, some saplings were growing that did not seem to belong. They were not your ordinary growth in this special place and it seemed as if they were growing in a haze. Come to find out, the trees were special trees. These trees were saponifying trees. These special trees grow in a haze that is often reminiscent of being in a hot shower. They do this because it helps you identify them when you need soap as that is exactly what they are used for! Not often found in the wild, these trees, often called soapsaps are used to make the worlds soap. Further, they are mysterious in that the scent from each tree is not like the next. It can be rose, lavender, or any other magical scents associated with soap.
The sky was sepia as she walked along the lonely, country road. Her mother is dying. she had become septic after being diagnosed with some illness. It is so bad that she may not come out of it. What a terrible way to start the first of September. Ah, but mother lived a good life. The last living sibling of one of the first sets of septuplets in this country. Her mother was ready and the family had been preparing for this for some time. Death is just not fair.
He sipped his tea while standing lookout for the police. His buddies were in the garage siphoning gas out of the remaining cars. “Hey! Make sure that shit doesn’t sipe into the rug under that Pontiac! They will know!” he yelled over his shoulder. This whole zombie apocalypse thing has turned even the best of the remaining uninfected into humans. He just couldn’t stand to be stealing just to survive.
The kids loved going to the restaurant where they served never ending bowls of sopaipillas. She loved to watch them sop up the honey on their plates with sticky fingers and grins. This had to be, quite possibly, the best invention ever. After all, these tasty pieces of fried dough are a wonderful treat. Another thing that was a treat for the kids, was that they had shows in different rooms of the building. It was a rather large place. One of the new shows was some pirate thing. At the end of the short set, a pirate falls into the ‘sea’ and, with a great splash, soaks the kids near the front row. After seeing the show, my four year old daughter comes running into the dining area where I was sitting and sopping wet, she exclaims “Sophomore the Pirate got us wet!” The room erupted in laughter.
That was a supreme supper he told his wife as he pushed back from the table. If you will excuse me I have to call the supplier of the plant and speak to the supervisor as you know my work supersedes any extra curricular activities. As he got up and chicken kissed his wife on the forehead, she sighed heavily. This was supposed to be a family evening. He was always running off to work and this was a super disappointment. However, he does work that hard to allow her to do whatever she wants. Sadly, she has to be supportive of that.
That syphiloid colony must be destroyed! Yelled General Sap as he reached across the table to make his point. Lieutenant Sep sat there, stone faced and unmoving as he listened to the General berate him over failing the mission. Not wanting to be insubordinate, he also had a loyalty to the CIA. You see, his informant Sip was still in the colony. While it was not clear if he was infected, the Lieutenant wanted to give his CI a chance to get out of there before they eradicate that place from the map. Making a choice, the Lieutenant stood up and told the General, “I am full on aware of the SOP, sir. I know the standard operating procedures” and with a stone face, he turned and left the room. Later that evening he reached out to Private Sup and sent him on a possible death mission to rescue the Lieutenants friend from the doomed colony.
Well, there it is folks! What do YOU think?