Products of my Imagination

My Facebook fan page for the upcoming Cherry Wood (Available on Kindle by May 1)

Sun, 24 Mar 2013 00:35:16 -0400

My Facebook fan page for the upcoming Cherry Wood (Available on Kindle by May 1)

Sonnet for a Derby Girl

Fri, 15 Feb 2013 00:39:50 -0500

Oh derby girl with wheels so fast and free

A happy heart with many joys and loves

A fan of fiend and foe, of masks and gloves

a gift for mat, she numbers seeks and sees.

Sir Fibonacci made a math so grand

it changed the way we see the world today.

She loves those sums and adds a mighty band

of numbers ranging through infinity.

The whip, the jam, the crash, among the pack

the rush of roller derby stirs the crowd

to stand and scream and cheer the girl’s attack

these girls will make their mothers very proud

The bat, the cat, the spider, and the rest

this derby girl will always like the best.

My fan page on Facebook

Tue, 05 Feb 2013 00:55:27 -0500

My fan page on Facebook

Cherry Wood-Chapter 1 official

Sun, 03 Feb 2013 21:08:22 -0500

Chapter 1

Will took a deep breath to savor the scent of ripening cherries This only added to the regret he was feeling over his upcoming choice. Will wouldn’t miss this orchard, there were plenty others just like the one owned by Harold Wallace out there, but he enjoyed the men and women he’d had for companions over the last six months.

He sat on the porch with his feet propped up on the railing. This wasn’t the job he wanted. Well, he wasn’t going to complain about getting the day off, but he knew that this change in plans meant it was time to leave again. Will picked up his laptop and started checking his emails. There were the usual assortment of junk mails and a few genuine job offers in the mix, but he deleted all of them. He stopped for a moment to look over the message from his mother.

It was the usual message. “Where are you? When are you coming home? You could at least call, or write back. Do you know what you’re putting your Father through?”

There was more, but Will deleted it before he got upset. It might have been different if she would write something new, but it was almost exactly the same email that he’d gotten a hundred times. She didn’t understand the choices he’d made with his life, and as a result, she didn’t get a response from him anymore.

This was probably the worst last day of work that Will had ever had. His boss didn’t even know that Will was going to leave at the end of the day, but it was definitely time to get out. Will hadn’t come to California to sit on a porch drinking pink lemonade and playing on the computer. There was a little bit more to the job, but waiting for someone to drive down a dirt road looking to buy used furniture was truly pointless.

It was even more pointless when you considered that there hadn’t been a single car that drove past the main house in the four hours that had passed since Will started. This wasn’t exactly a public road. Just as Will was thinking this, he noticed that there was a cloud of dust heading his way.

At first, he couldn’t make out what kind of a car it was because of all the dust. Will thought about leaving a note for Wallace that the road could definitely use some maintenance, but then Wallace probably wouldn’t bother to do anything about it. Besides, how many cars actually drove on this road?

Oddly, the car started to slow down as it approached the house. Will set down his glass of lemonade and his laptop, then he stood up with his hands on the railing in order to get a better look at whoever was driving the bright red ’72 Oldsmobile Station Wagon that was pulling up to the house.

The driver-side window rolled down and a woman’s hand with bright red nails reached out of the window and opened the door. The driver stepped out of the car. She was quite tall for a girl which was something that Will appreciated. She had blonde hair that was extremely curly, and fell down below her shoulders. Her outfit was distracting because she was dressed like a colorblind gypsy. The long skirt and long-sleeved top were fine, but it was the layers of clothes each with its own strange pattern and colors that were an issue. She was certainly pretty, but Will just wasn’t sure what she was trying to accomplish with her outfit.

“Can you tell me where I am?” the girl asked breaking Will out of his train of thought.

“This is the Wallace farm,” Will replied.

“That doesn’t help me at all,” she answered back. “I’m trying to get back to the city.”

“I’m afraid you’re going the wrong way then.” Will said. “If you go back the way you just came, and just keep driving straight for about 15 miles, you’ll find the main road again.”

“I guess I got a little more lost than I thought,” she said with a big smile.

Will took a moment to enjoy her smile and the beautiful brown eyes that looked at him. “Can I offer you a drink before you take off?”

“I could use a drink, but I’m going to be driving so I guess I should say no.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Will said with a laugh. “My boss doesn’t drink alcohol so the strongest thing I can offer you is some lemonade.”

“I guess I can handle that,” she laughed. “So what are you doing here on the porch in the middle of the day? Doesn’t your boss have something for you to do?”

Will walked up to the porch and poured the girl a glass of lemonade. “It’s a long story, but I guess he’s decided that I’m more valuable here on the porch than out working in the fields today. There is more than just sitting and drinking lemonade though.”

“Really?” she asked with mocking surprise. “What more could he possibly ask you to do?”

Will pointed to the furniture by the side of the road. “My extremely important task is to sell this furniture. Impressive isn’t it?”

The girl walked over to look at the two chairs that were there by the road. Will sat down in one of them and invited her to take the seat next to him.

“These are some extraordinary chairs,” she said taking a seat.

“Yes, the Queen Anne style is quite nice,” Will replied. “They have been made since the 18^th century. These chairs aren’t quite that old, but at least a hundred years old.”

“So, what are you looking to get for them?”

“I don’t really care.” Will answered. “I’m pretty much done here, and I’ll probably move on tonight. I’ll take whatever you want to offer.”

“Do you like cherries?” she asked.

“Cherries?” he queried in return.

“Yes, cherries, I just happen to have a couple of baskets of cherries I was hoping to sell out of the back of my car until I got a little lost earlier today.”

“Two baskets of cherries in exchange for two chairs made out of cherry?” Will pondered. “I think we can make that work.”

“Seriously?” the girl asked.

“Sure, I’ll even help you load them up in your car.”

“Any chance you’ll help me unload them too?” she asked with a playful grin.

Will thought for a minute. “I don’t even know your name. What’s in it for me?”

The girl smiled. “I don’t know your name either.”

“I’m Will, and you are?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you tonight when you stop by to help me with these chairs.”

Will laughed as he agreed. They unloaded the cherries and loaded up the chairs. Will took the address to her house and walked back to his room to pack. There wasn’t any point in staying and it was time to move on anyway.

Will loaded up his few possessions and made his way to move some chairs.

What if I used this for my back cover?

Mon, 21 Jan 2013 23:08:00 -0500

What happens when two strangers who are running away from their past meet? What if their pasts overlap in unexpected ways

Will- went to an outstanding college and got an MBA and a high-paying job and one day left it all behind because his grandfather taught him to “never have a job you can’t walk away from.” He left his rich family, his girlfriend, and his job without a second thought. After twelve years as a migrant farmer, perhaps he has found a reason to stick around.

Patri- an artist and a vagabond, Patri has been running and hiding for the past decade. She isn’t open with her secrets or her trust, but there is something about Will Staige that convinces her to take a chance.

There comes a time when you have to stop running away from your past. Have Will and Patri found that time together?

onespeakerforthedead: The rough draft for the cover of my...

Sat, 12 Jan 2013 19:22:39 -0500

onespeakerforthedead:

The rough draft for the cover of my future book, Cherry Wood.

Mr. Brenner's Birthday-Chapter 1

Wed, 02 Jan 2013 23:24:34 -0500

Mr. Brenner never missed anything. You could be whispering in the back of the class with Penelope Parker, the quietest girl in class, while there was a fire drill clanging in the background, and he would know every word that came out of your mouth. A single fly buzzing around the room (an there was never any more than a single fly in the room at any time) was quickly targeted by Mr. Brenner’s ear and quickly clapped between his chalk-stained hands.

He was the best teacher in the school. Everyone that had him.for a teacher agreed with that. He was the only teacher that my brother,Henry actually liked, and and I think the only reason Henry ever passed the other grades was because the teachers wanted to get rid of him.

That was something I appreciated about Mr Brenner. He never judged me based on his experiences with my brother. Mr Brenner always let me stand as an individual. That’s what made his announcement so hard to accept.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he started in a quiet voice that still filled the classroom, “I have an announcement that you will either take with joy or sadness. I will be retiring when the school year has come to an end.”

Sixteen voices started murmuring around the room while I sat in stunned silence. How could Mr Brenner leave teaching? How could he abandon us?

“I know this comes as a surprise to everyone, but Mrs Brenner and I have talked about this for months and we decided it’s time for a change.”

The murmuring started again, and Mr Brenner let the class have their moment. He walked towards his desk and quietly took his seat.

“I suppose that you will have plenty of questions about this matter,” he suggested as every hand in the room shot into the air.

“I suppose I should have expected as much,” Mr Brenner mused. “Let’s start with Sally.”

“Thank you, Mr Brenner,” she started with that tone that I found extremely annoying. “I am sure that you will recall that I have always been one of the best students at Grover Cleveland Elementary school. As such, I find such news disturbing. I fear for the academic growth of the entire school. Why just the other day I was telling telling my mother how much your influence has meant to me as a scholar.”

“Thank you,Sally,” Mr Brenner acknowledged. “And how do you feel Mr Ross?”

Jeremy Ross was one of the worst students in the class, and I was fairly certain what response to expect. Jeremy stood up and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Mr Brenner,” he mumbled.

“Mr Ross,” Mr Brenner interrupted, “I cannot understand you when you talk with your mouth full of marbles. Please take them out and try again.”

“That’s what I like about you, Mr Brenner,” Jeremy chuckled. “You tell it like it is. None of my other teachers were like that.They were always trying to help me ‘very in touch with my feelings’ or yelling at me thinking that would make a difference. No, you just expected more from me, so I felt I needed to give it.”

As more students said what was on their minds,my hand sank lower and lower. I knew the thoughts that were on my mind, but I didn’t know how to put them into words. Maybe he would miss me in all the confusion. No such luck.

“Miss Foster,” I heard from the front of the room, “do you have anything you would like to add?”

I tried to slide under my desk,but by that time the whole class was looking at me.

“I’ll be sad to see you go,” I answered meekly.

“That is very kind of you,” Mr Brenner replied with a smile in my direction. “There is still seven months before the end of the yea,and I plan to be here until then. For now, I believe that it is time for you to go to the playground.”

Everyone got up from their seats and headed into the hall go to their lockers. I dragged my feet. I wasn’t sure what I would say, but, I wanted to let Mr Brenner know how much he had changed my life since I’d started fourth grade.

“Is there something I can help you with, Miss Foster?” Mr Brenner inquired.

“Um, no, sir,” I stammered. I ran into the hallway and struggled with the combination for my locker. I had messed up my chance to tell Mr Brenner how I felt. I had to come up with a way to make up for that. Mr Brenner was fond of saying, “You have to take your chances when they come to you.”

Stepping outside, I found my best friend, Kimmie. She was several inches shorter than me, but no one ever gave her a hard time about it because the last boy that tried it had gone home with two black eyes. She was my best friend because she was always followed me in my wild schemes.

“What is on your mind?” Kimmie asked with a sly grin.

“I don’t know yet,” I whispered.

“Some big secret?”

“So big I haven’t even told myself yet,” I laughed. “I just feel like we have to do something special for Mr Brenner.”

“Will you tell me when you let yourself in on the big secret?”

“You’ll be the second person I tell,”I promised as I crossed my heart with the fingers of my right hand.

The white room

Sun, 09 Dec 2012 13:07:26 -0500

Twelve feet by twelve feet, this room is unique in all the world because it serves no purpose and has no function. There are no inhabitants or passers-by. It is simply a room.

Did you ever have an art teacher or anyone else show you a blank piece of paper and tell you that it was a polar bear in a blizzard? The room is something like that, only more white.

There is no furniture, just white walls and layers of white curtains suspended from a white ceiling that fall to a white floor. There are no doors or windows so the room feels no need to be anything for you. It simply exists.

A long summer's night...

Wed, 05 Dec 2012 14:25:34 -0500

I don’t know what it is about summer, but the nights seem to take much longer. Maybe it is the fact that the sun stays up so late, maybe it’s just that you don’t have to hide inside from the cold and wind. For good or for bad, that’s the way that it seems to me.

Maybe it’s just that I’m all alone again.

“I love you,” she would whisper as the sound of life rushed past us. I didn’t care then, but now I wish I could gt that time back. Actually, I wish life could fly by again, but that isn’t how it works.

What do I do now that I’m alone?

A Virginia Woolf Play

Mon, 13 Aug 2012 23:32:11 -0400

When I first read Virginia Woolf, I didn’t really care for her. I know that the real reason was that I was in three Lit classes, including British Literature. I was reading on a frantic pace, and “A Room of Her Own” was not to my liking at that point, especially when she only started getting to the point around page 5 of 20. (Woolf was saying that in order for a woman to write in the Modern Era, she would need to have a space of her own, and lots of free time-not very likely at that time.)

When a friend of mine planned to do her honors project on “The Waves” (a Woolf book) I decided that I needed to read some of Woolf’s works to better understand what she was writing about.

I found a collection of short stories, and I was hooked from the first one. What really caught my attention was that the characters seemed to come close to connecting and always missing the mark. That is where this play comes from.

Characters:

Debbie: A 20-year-old woman with long dark hair. She is dressed for a warm summer day.

Romaine: A 25-year-old man with black hair. He is dressed very sharply.

Debbie is at the bus stop. Romaine approaches.

R: Do you know what time the bus is supposed to get here?

D: There are several lines at this stop. Which one are you looking to catch?

R: I’m after the 12.

D: Me too. It should be here in about 10 minutes.

R: Great, I really need to get going soon.

D: Big meeting?

R: I wish.

D: I just thought with the way that you are dressed on a day like this that you might be…

R: I can see why you would think that, but I’m just trying to get a job.

D: Good luck with that. I hope you don’t melt with the heat like it has been lately.

R: I know. Can you believe we’ve had record temperatures every day this week?

D: But you know we’ll be complaining when the snow starts flying too.

R: We should make a pact not to do that.

D: What do you mean?

R: We could agree today that neither of us will complain when the weather gets cold.

D: And how would we keep track of that? We’re just two strangers meeting on a bus.

R: That’s a good question.

D: I’ve got a good answer too.

R: Do tell.

D: You could give me your number.

R: That’s very forward of you.

D: We could agree to meet at this bus in a couple of months at a certain time and day.

R: I’m terrible with stuff like that.

D: Maybe not for the right person.

R: I don’t even know you. How would we know if you were the one?

D: Well, you never gave me an answer about your phone number.

R: I don’t know how I feel about you taking my job.

D: What, a woman can’t ask for a guy’s number?

R: Sadly, we do live in that kind of a sexist world.

D: We don’t have to conform to it though.

R: Perhaps we don’t. You could always give me your number.

D: I could, but how would we fight sexism that way?

R: Does it have to be about fighting sexism? Can’t it just be about two people wanting to get to know each other better?

D: Can’t it be both?

R: Is this bus ever going to get here?

D: Tired of me already?

R: Let’s just change the subject, OK?

D: Sure. What should we talk about then?

R: What are you into?

D: Random conversations with complete strangers at bus stops.

R: We could talk about other random conversations then.

D: We could, but this is the only memorable one so far.

R: That’s nice of you to say.

D: It’s also true.

R: Well, what about sports?

D: Don’t care for them. Books?

R: Never been much of a reader. Movies?

D: Depends on the movie. Romance movies?

R: No thank you. Action?

D: Not my cup of tea. Mysteries?

R: They leave me clueless.

D: Good one. Very punny. I don’t care for puns.

R: Riddles? Not unless they are Toms.

D: I don’t get it.

R: I guess that means you aren’t into Harry Potter.

D: Who is that?

R: You’ve never heard of Harry Potter?

D: is that a bad thing?

R: I need to make you watch the movies right now. Better yet, you should read the books first.

D: Not much of a reader. I think I mentioned that.

R: You should really give them a try.

D: Is that the movies about a kids with a scar throwing lightning bolts around at dragons or something like that?

R: Not really, but that’s close enough to start.

D: The commercials didn’t interest me. I think I’ll pass.

R: Seriously?

D: What?

R: Not interested in Harry Potter?

D: Not really.

R: What kind of a human being are you?

D: What is that supposed to mean?

R: Just forget about it.

D: Fine, I will.

R: Hey, here comes the bus.

D: Great, but I think I’ll wait.

R: Why? Don’t you have someplace to be?

D: Yeah, but I’ll just catch another bus, maybe the 73. It should be here soon.

R: OK. Maybe I’ll see you around.

D: Maybe.

R: Try not to let the weather get you too down, OK?

D: I’ll do my best.

Father's Day

Sun, 17 Jun 2012 20:39:48 -0400

I don’t know why I always write back to you.You’ve never read my writing, and
you’ll never read this, but you wrote to me,
so it just seems right.

It’s hard to believe there has been so many letters
for the last sixteen years. Part of me
wants to find Mom’s hiding place,
but I don’t want to ruin the suspense.

Every Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and birthday
I have gotten a card from beyond the grave
and it makes me cry every time.

I used to wonder
why you had to leave us. I couldn’t see, and the world
didn’t care about the problems of a six-year-old girl.
First grade never prepared me for a Father with cancer.

What was the source of your prognostic gift?
Somehow you guess that I would graduate
from art school this year. It wasn’t your first correct speculation
either. Somehow you knew when I broke my leg,
got glasses and contacts, you even knew what color dress
I wore to my senior prom. (You did, however, guess wrong.
My first boyfriend was Travis, not Darrell.)

So what is my message this Father’s Day?
“I miss you?” Too obvious.
“Get well soon?” Too late.
No. I want you to know that I am happy
and doing something that I love.
I don’t know how you would have felt about my path,
I’m still not completely sure about it myself.
Just know that I’m working hard
to make you proud, and myself too.

Mother's Day

Sun, 13 May 2012 19:33:00 -0400

I love my Mother.
I have to, she’s all I have.
That came out wrong.

It all started when Dad died.
It wasn’t the surprise that tore us apart,
we just mourned in different ways. Mom had prepared herself for my sake, and that fact
infuriated me so much growing up. I cried
all the time and it drove Mom up the wall.

“Crying won’t bring him back,” she would insist.
“At least they know I loved him!” I shouted back angrily.
I don’t knows who “They” were, and I guess I didn’t care
because that brought the tears I regret so much now.
I wanted her to cry with me once, just once.

All of my decisions were wrong:
my best friend, my college major,
ever course I ever took,
even going with Tony to the prom.
Actually that was a huge mistake.)
Even if I knew she was right,
I fought her every chance that presented itself.

It never stopped me from making Mother’s Day
as special as possible. I made a special mug
this year. I etched Mom and Dad’s face into the surface
of the clay. I got what I’d always wanted as Mom and I
cried together for hours.

It wasn’t as nice as I’d expected.

blink I am on the web and I don’t know which way to go.There are so many paths and I don’t know...

Wed, 21 Mar 2012 01:58:04 -0400

*blink*

I am on the web and I don’t know which way to go.There are so many paths and I don’t know where these roadslead. I’m tempted to stand still an wait for the worldto make my decision for me, but I know that will never be a good idea.

*blink*

I’m sitting on the grass enjoying the sun under a tree,but I still don’t know which path to take. Three menasked me out for the same time. I’m not sure why they asked.I’m nothing special. I’m not the girl the boys chase,I’m not even the girl they talk to when no one else will give them the time of day.

*blink*

The web shakes, but I am not designed to follow it’s movements.My eyes tell me that there is an insector something in the web, but I don’t know how to get there,or what to do once I manage to get there.

*blink*

I watch the spider as she approaches her prey.Her movements are so deliberate and detailed.She instictively knows her role, and her duties.I wish I was that comfortable in my own skin.

*blink*

I glide from strand to strand.I was born for this. I know this web.It is my creation.It is my home.

*blink*

Time to go. Time to take a path,right or wrong. I know this web and the pathI need to take. I hope the boyswon’t be disappointed when I say no

Paige sat in a booth, and wondered why her boss wanted to work late at a bar. The location didn’t...

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 00:07:00 -0400

Paige sat in a booth, and wondered why her boss wanted to work late at a bar. The location didn’t matter much to her since the only difference between here and the office was the deep thrumming of the music she couldn’t hear anyway.

It made it easier to be the only person at the bar hard at work on a laptop on a Sunday night. She doesn’t look up much because she doesn’t want to deal with people if she’s going to be at work. That’s why she got into web design. It let her be private most of the time without making her seem antisocial.

Martin, her boss, came to the table. How is our site coming along? He signed.

It could be better. Her hands replied.

What’s the matter? He asked.

I’m trying to build the web page for your restaurant in a bar on a Sunday.

Don’t be like that, Martin expressed. We don’t have to always be about work.

What is that supposed to mean? Her hands insisted.

I was hoping we could spend some time together, just the two of us.

She looked at his face to see if she could figure out what he was thinking. Martin was certainly cute, but she wasn’t interested in dating a client. It was just too much of a conflict of interest. Besides, she didn’t want to look like she only had this job because of her looks.

I’m flattered, Martin, she replied, but we can’t do this.

We can’t sit down and have a drink? he signed as a frown grew on his face.

Not when I’m on the clock. she insisted. It just isn’t right. Let’s talk about your web page.

I’d rather talk about how beautiful you are.

She tried to fight the blush she knew was building on her cheeks, but it was no use. She saw the look of victory on Martin’s face. He knew he’d just scored a point.

If we aren’t here for work, then I want something stronger than this diet Pepsi, Paige said as she closed her computer. She signalled to the waitress and ordered a drink.

What did you order? Martin inquired.

You’re getting better at signing, Paige complimented, but you haven’t learned everything yet.

What did you order? He repeated.

I ordered a drink, and don’t even think about paying for it. he insisted. I’ve already talked to the waitress about it.

Look, this was a mistake, Martin signed as he got up to leave.

He was already turned around so it didn’t matter how loudly she signed. He was gone.

Dear John,

Sun, 11 Mar 2012 17:29:00 -0400

Why did your mother have to give you that name?

Why are you so adamant about being just John?

I could be writing to Johnny or Jonathan or even JT,

but instead I always have to write you Dear John letters.

I hope you are staying safe. I know your buddiesare watching your back, but I never liked the thoughtof you fighting in a war. (I know, it’s not really a war,but it still isn’t safe.) Your parents both send their love.

It is lonely here.That is why I write to you every day. Most of our friendswent off to college, and those that didn’t are married with kids.I could have gone to college, it was my dream,but I didn’t want to be the only girl in the freshman dormswith a wedding ring. Can you imagine the talk about that one?

“Cool it. Here comes Mrs. John Archer.”

Life at the video store isn’t any better. War moviesare off the docket, and the guys I work with won’t watch romancesor anything else I want to watch. A stream of pratfallsand lame punch lines make up my day.

Work is still better than being home.I love your parents, but they just want to talk about Jeopardyand Wheel of Fortune. It’s not like I have many optionsto go out. I’m too old to go to the parties where we met,and too young to go to the bar.Besides, George is always there.

He’s a new guy in town, and he can’t accept the factthat I am a married woman-that I love you.You are my first and only. You have my heart,nothing will change that. Still, I really wish youwere here now, holding me in your arms, telling methat you love me too.

Dear John, write back soon;I need to hear from you.

Hannah was always interested in the ocean. She spent all of her time was spent researching different...

Sat, 10 Mar 2012 02:30:23 -0500

Hannah was always interested in the ocean. She spent all of her time was spent researching different sea life and imagining what it would be like to live under the water. She made us watch The Little Mermaid at least once a week. She even managed to find a way to tie the ocean into all of her school assignments. That was the start of problems for us.

She discovered something during her research on one of her papers. I don’t what she found. She wouldn’t tell me no matter how much I pressured her.

“You wouldn’t understand, Jake,” she insisted. “Besides, you don’t care about the ocean.”

That wasn’t true. I was sure that I’d done more with saving the ocean projects because of my big sister, but that didn’t meant that I wasn’t concerned about the whales, dolphins, and plankton. I tried to argue with her about the matter, but I didn’t get anywhere with that either.

Whatever she found changed her. It started small, but eventually everyone started to notice it. It started with her drinking a lot more water, eventually working her way up to five quarts a day. She also spent a lot more time in and around water. She actually spent 3 hours a day in the swimming pool until one day she just stopped. When I asked her about it, she said that she couldn’t handle the chlorine anymore. However, she started spending hours in the bathtub instead.

It got really weird when she started in on the salt. She started using tons of salt on everything, even in her water. I’m pretty sure she was timing it with her into the bathroom when she was in the tub.

Hannah insisted that we go to the beach one day. She drove because I still didn’t have my license. We went down and swam in the water. Hannah looked like she was made to be in the ocean. I was worried when she went under water and I didn’t see her for over 10 minutes. She laughed it off, told me that I was imagining it. That she’d been around all the time.

A few days later, she disappeared. She vanished without a trace. I was pretty sure I knew where she went, back to the beach where we’d gone swimming. That is where the police found her car, in the parking lot by that very beach. One of the lifeguards said that she had walked out into the water and never came back.

Eventually, we found a note. Hannah addressed it to me.

Dear Jake,

I know you are confused about what happened to me, but I really couldn’t explain what has happened to me, and I couldn’t wait any longer. I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, but know that I am making a difference out there, and I am doing well. I will finally get to make a difference for the ocean in a way that will really change the world. Look for me. If it ever happens, you will know the time and the place.

Love your big sister,

Hannah

I’m still trying to figure out the time and place Hannah was talking about. Maybe someday I will figure it out and see my sister again.

OK, I need two names. I don't care if they are boy names or girl names, but they have to be the same stereotypical gender.

Fri, 09 Mar 2012 22:48:00 -0500

whichurlcanitake:

Any suggestions?

I just reblogged this so I could see the names. If you come up with names, let me know though.

Can you guess what the prompt was?

Tue, 06 Mar 2012 19:05:32 -0500

“We can’t bring a child into this world!” Carrie shouted.

“Not the two of us together,” Molly soothed, “but we can still be parents.”

“You know what I mean, Molly,” Carrie sighed. “This world is no place to raise a child, especially a child with two mothers.”

“All the more reason to have a child,” Molly insisted. “If the world is ever going to be the place we want it to be, we need to stand up and demand our rights.”

“I’m tired of fighting,” Carrie groaned, “besides, I told you when we first met that I never wanted a family. You’ve met my parents. Do you really want your child to be raised by the product of their parenting skills?”

“Our child will have two parents that love her,” Molly assured, what more could any child ask for?”

“What if we have a boy?” Carrie inquired.

“What?” Molly asked.

“There’s a fifty percent chance that we will have a boy instead of a girl,” Carrie stated, “What are we going to do if we have a son and you are expecting a daughter?”

“I hadn’t really thought about that,” Molly mumbled.

Carrie let the conversation slip. It wasn’t a topic she wanted to discuss anyway. Being a mother had been a dream of hers for such a long time and then when she discovered that she was going to spend the rest of her life loving women instead of men.

When she realized that, she had given up on that dream, and it had been so hard, that she didn’t want to pick it up again. It had been too hard at the time, and what if something went wrong now? There were so many complications that could emerge, so many uncertainties.

Better to avoid the matter and let that dream stay dead.

“Why don’t I take you someplace really nice for dinner?” Carrie asked.

“I guess we can do that,” Molly agreed reluctantly. “Just promise me you’ll think about this.”

“I promise,” Carrie agreed. I never stop thinking about it.

The Warrior and the Queen

Fri, 02 Mar 2012 02:32:31 -0500

When it comes to stars, you have two choices:
you can look up and see dots of light scattered everywhere,
or you can see constellations. Once you see figures in the heavens,
it’s hard to go back. However, it’s nice to see a familiar face
in the night skies. Most search for the bears,
while others look for dragons, flying horses, or their zodiacal avatar,
but I look for something else.

I became a stargazer at Boy Scout Camp.
How could I resist a badge that required me to stay up late?
Using a flashlight, our Star Master showed us the Big Dipper
and slowly taught us the starts that created the Ursa Major.
“Start with the handle” he observed,
“now move to the two stars that make the end of the ladle.
These stars are Dubhe and Merak. Follow from Dubhe through Merak
In a straight line, and you will reach the North Star
and the Little Dipper. Keep going and you will find Cassiopeia
seated on her throne.

I looked and I saw her. I listened and I heard her story-
a queen banished to the heavens by angry gods,
and sharing the same sky as the warrior of legends.
Even now, I don’t know his story, I just look for his belt
shining brightly in the heavens.

Years later, I still seek for them even if the season
Is wrong or the clouds cover the sky. Perhaps I wait for their legends
to touch my life or a sign to guide my future.

Here on the mountains, the stars are closer, bigger. The Queen’s throne
Is massive, and the Warrior’s Belt covers so much of the sky.
Aside from those two, the sky seems so strange.
I’m not sure where I am. Is this how it feels for those
that don’t know the stars the way that I knew them.?

Non present character prompt

Thu, 01 Mar 2012 20:55:29 -0500

Jane looked around her sister’s apartment. This was not the home of the girl she grew up with. Jill never would have left her apartment such a mess, but then Jill was a different woman these days.

It all started with Henry, the terrier. He belonged to an ex boyfriend and the poor dog got left behind when the bum stumbled off. Jill couldn’t stand the though of sending poor Henry off to the pound, so she kept him even though she didn’t really know much about dogs.

Henry really took charge and Jill stuggled to get him under control, but she wasn’t cut out to be a dog owner. That never stopped her from trying though.

Then there was Imogene, she was a snake that was owned by an old roommate that left one month without paying her rent. She did leave a note trying to explain the situation and asking Jill to take care of the snake until she could come back for the snake. She never did.

Imogene didn’t make too much of a mess, but she did require a special diet that led to some complications. Feeding Imogene her baby mice was the hardest part, especially when they broke out of their cage like they had done earlier today.

The worst was Rodrigo. Jill had brought that problem upon herself in an attempt to have her own pet. From the moment she brought that cat into her apartment it was all out war.

Henry and Rodrigo were always attacking each other. It was a tornado that threatened to destroy the apartment every day. Jane couldn’t believe how bad the mess was today. why had she agreed to apartment sit while Jill went to a conference anyway?

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OK, I need two names. I don't care if they are boy names or girl names, but they have to be the same stereotypical gender.

Can you guess what the prompt was?

The Warrior and the Queen

Non present character prompt

blink I am on the web and I don’t know which way to go.There are so many paths and I don’t know...