Eventually Dawn

This week’s assignment will require the fewest number of words ever: we want you to write a story – your choice of topic – as a tweet.


Soft pastels, muted further by early morning fog, silhouette sleepy pines with the promise of light.
The loneliest night is finally over.

Selfish Pain

This week we asked you to explore your worst memory.




He'd been through so much. Arthritis in his rear legs and hips. His front legs were beginning to show signs also. A neurological problem in his hips made his front legs have to do most of the support. 

He had an ongoing antibiotic resistant ear infection. The odor was awful, sickly sweet and rotten all at once. Ear washes and cocktails of meds. The infection would finally go away, only to return in another month. Along with the ear infection were fleshy growths that bled if he scratched too hard. 

He was fourteen, not young for a dog. Most of his teeth were gone. The problems in his hips meant his tail couldn't speak for him anymore. . The arthritis meds were supplemented with pain pills. He slept more and more. 

One day he refused to take the pills. No matter how we tried to give them. He wasn't tricked by food around them. We couldn't force his jaws open to push them down. As pained and frail as he'd become, his stubborn streak was still strong. 

For two night we were awakened by his barking. I'd go into the other room to see what was bothering him. He'd be gazing past me at something I couldn't see. 

The second night I sat up with him until morning. At 7:30am I made the call. Choking through tears I explained that it was time.  The receptionist at the vet's office was sympathetic, asked if I was sure. I was. The appointment was made. 

It was fast and painless. For him. I knew it was the right thing to do. Selfishness had kept him in pain too long. 
. 
I am a cat person.  But cats have their own agenda. They come and go as they please. 

Ari, my Shih Tzu was often underfoot.  Following me from room to room.  There is still, two years later an empty spot in my heart.  And an empty spot at my feet. 

                     * * * * * * *
It's been two years and i still miss him. We did adopt a troubled dog last year. I try not to compare. It's hard still. 
 

Parallel Paths

The trip home from the Circle of Seven Trees...



They had to leave immediately.  Every moment spent amid the seven trees meant about ten minutes passing in the human world. It seemed small, but became hours quickly.

"I'm going on ahead with Barry, Mother. We'll get home faster."  Lyabet was in a hurry now. "I'll look for you by the oak"

Tam laughed at her daughter, "I'll be waiting when you get there, 'Bet. Just because you slog through earth doesn't mean I do. I could teach you a few tricks there!"

"Another day I think. Right now I'll travel the way I know. And Barry needs to start learning the ways."  Lyabet began let her physical body "thin", she encouraged her young son to do the same.  She felt the air begin to flow through her as her body lightened. Barry followed his mother's example and they began to rise.

"Just stay within my space, Barry, I'll carry you home." She read the breezes like a roadmap. This one lead here, that one there. When a strong gust going her way came close, she melded herself to it.

She loved the air, the feel within her being. The freedom from weight and gravity. Her senses expanded as she became one with the breeze. She could see for miles, heard the musical voices of others of her kind. She felt the wind in her soul.

As she flowed from gust to cloud to summer breeze, she suddenly became aware of another presence in the air. Following her path, sharing her space.

"Father?"

Too late she recognized the presence with her. They were already home.

Re-Assembled

Your assignment this week was to write about a time when you knew something in your life had to change drastically. We asked you to describe the moment you realized you had to make the decision and to use this as an opportunity to work on “show not tell.”


I wasn't me anymore.  I had shed my likes, my humor, my friends.  I wriggled out of the skin I'd worn all my life to please someone else.  I adjusted my personality to fit what I thought was required.  I lost the most important pieces of myself.  The things that made me me.

When all of that wasn't enough, when the verbal and emotional attacks finally became physical, I knew things needed to change.  The necessary steps were taken, the counseling, the learning on both parts to understand the power and control monster.  Change began to happen. 

It has been an excruciatingly slow process.  Finding the bits and pieces of me that were cast aside, or shelved. Trying to put them back together the way they came out.  The new me, isn't the same as the original.  There are hairline cracks in the surface where some parts were glued in hastily.  A few chips here and there where all the shards weren't found.  Some pieces still linger on shelves, waiting for another step, a better time to be added.

Things have changed, but the scars are still visible.  The trust was broken, I think it will take a bit longer to finish the reassembly.

turn it

talk talk talk
it's not all about you
whiner
sleights
imagined or not
do not give you the right
to close your mind
to regress
to cease to function
suck it up
get over it
move on
direct your emotions
into positive action
don't nurture the anger
spend it
on building beauty

The Prom

You were to write about a pair of shoes of yours or your character's. They can be real or symbolic



She was so excited!  He'd be here soon, and she was far from ready.  It was time to get a move on.

She pulled the dress on, viewed herself in the mirror, adjusted the top, straightened the skirt.  Frowned, then smiled.  Too late to hate it now. 

She brushed her hair carefully, pinned back the errant strands.  Makeup, just a touch of blush and lip color, he didn't care for a lot of "face paint".

Finally she opened the box that held them.  Her shoes, dancing shoes.  She was going to the prom, she was going to dance.  They were beige with little pearls sewed to them.  The soles flat for dancing.  She wasn't going to try to impress him stomping about on spiky little heels. These were the shoes, so soft, so perfect.

One last flash by the mirror, she smiled again, pleased with what she saw.  She was
as ready as she was going to be.

He knocked at the door, her mother led him to the living room where she waited.  He smiled at her and held out his hand.  She clasped it lightly and rose to her feet.  He put the precious corsage on her wrist.

"Are you ready to go dancing?" he asked.

"Oh yes!  I am ready!"

*****

The call had come late in the evening.  They needed someone to come identify the body.  This was not a task she wished to do, but she was the one who lived closest.

"I'm sorry you have to do this, but rules and all.  The old lady in the next room was complaining about the music.  We knocked, but your grandmother didn't answer.  We used the passkey to get in."

Her grandmother was sitting on the sofa, dressed in her best old dress.  It looked like she was wearing some lipstick.  Her hair was carefully brushed back.  In her hands, a pressed flower, no more frail than the hands that held it.

On her feet were the shoes.  The shoes she had shown her granddaughter countless times.  Even long after Granddad had passed away, Grandma would still pull out those shoes.  They were wrinkled and pale as the serene face of her grandmother.  Missing many of the tiny pearls. Her dancing shoes, the ones that had helped her win Granddad's heart.

Midnight Snack

This week, CDG and Yuliya tasked you to push yourselves out of your comfort zone, to shake things up a bit.





It had followed her for some time, attracted by her smell. When it finally struck, her neck was broken with practiced ease. She was dead before her body dropped to the ground. 

It dragged her corpse into the brush, then knelt, savoring the smell of her. An intoxicating odor, it began to drool uncontrollably. 

The hand-like paws stroked her body, the claws cutting her clothing like it was tissue paper. Small gashes oozed blood, that new odor fueling the creature's excitement. 

It lay across her body, sniffing and licking. The paws pushing, groping at her flesh. Each fresh wound, each fresh odor heightening it's lust. 

A breast, freed of fabric was the first taste. Fat laden, succulent. It moaned at the flavor, it's head dipped for a second helping. 

Claws drew down her abdomen lightly at first, then with more urgency. Opening the way to feed on the still warm entrails. 

It fed slowly, delighting in the flavors. And always that intoxicating aroma that first drew it to her. It shivered in ecstasy, gorging on different parts. Stopping to stroke or lick another limb. Cracking bones as it went, even the skull to reach the tender matter there. 

Finally, it was satisfied. It scraped earth and leaves over her remains. It slept curled beside it's kill. 


Jonah awoke in the predawn, confusion at his surroundings.  He started violently as he realized he was naked, and covered in blood and gore.  As he moved, the pile beside him shifted. He recognized in horror the mutilated remains of a human corpse. 

His belly heaved, and the puking began. He tried to catch his breath. A glint in the vomit caught his eye. 

A scream that began in the remains of his soul tore through his body. He screamed again. And again. His eyes still seeing the piece of finger encircled by the engagement ring he had placed on it only two days before.