When the old lady stopped breathing, so did Blake. Holding his breath, he waited. The corners of his mouth twitched, quivering like a racehorse waiting in the gate as his mouth tried to break a smile. She was finally dead. Dead and surrounded by a small army of crying children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

His hands shot to his face just in time to conceal the wide grin that parted his cheeks. Everything had worked out perfect. Since her fall, two weeks ago, he’d prayed every day that she would hold on long enough. When the phone would ring, his heart would stop. Mom would talk low and quiet and the thought of grandma dying too soon made tears trickle down his cheek. But she hadn’t. His eighth birthday was yesterday and since then, he’d been ready to explode with excitement. Masking it with sadness had been like trying to hide a bucket of exploding firecrackers.

A hand touched his shoulder and he looked up to see his mother and his blood ran cold. He breathed heavy and sweat beads appeared on his forehead as he stared back at her in wide-eyed fear. Could she see the happiness? Would she be angry?

She picked him up and buried his head in her shoulder.

“Poor Blake,” she told somebody. “He has been dreading this day.” Read the rest of this entry »

I’ve added an new first chapter to my book that offers perspective, drama, and (hopefully) more initial excitement to my novel. It requires some minor editing to the rest of the story and I have taken down the link at Lulu.com until I finish. After this, I’m done editing. I’ll submit and call it good…and move on to my next book.

“Mandala’s Catalyst” is the first book in my Gardone Trilogy. For sixteen years Prince Jasper has honored his parents and supported the laws, but he’s afraid of his thoughts; have his parents and leaders been lying to him? When tragedy compels him to speak out, he is banished from the kingdom. He learns that the forbidden practice of swords and sorcery have been revived by a small group of outlaws who believe Gardone is on the brink of destruction. Jasper, now hunted and despised by the people he loves, must uncover the truth and fight against the dark forces that shroud his nation in ignorance.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Is that her? ZieZee’s thoughts passed to her partner as she pointed down the rocky slope through branches of naked trees that reached into the sky like giant spider legs.

Dorg looked at the large mound of snow in the ravine below, nodded, and answered with his mind. Yes, she’s under there, protecting the egg.

Cloudy vapor froze in frigid air as it left their bodies, marking time in steady puffs. Only two creatures could survive this icy tundra: their kind and the massive beast nesting in the gorge below. They watched and waited, camouflaged by thick white fur on the snow covered ridge. To the keen eye they looked awkward; standing knee deep in the snow made them look unnaturally short, even for snow apes.

Read the rest of this entry »

I finally (after many years of searching) found a copy of one of my favorite short stories; “St. Emmanuel the Good Martyr” by Miguel de Unamuno. To celebrate, I decided to write a short story themed with what my High School AP English teacher once said was ‘My Genre’ (existentialism, I am a skilled pessimist). So here you are; a super short existentialistic science fiction ditty.

* * *

Although the tape around his chest restricted a full breath of air, Charlie inhaled deeper than he had for years. It felt good; he felt good…finally.

But last night hadn’t been good. Although it wasn’t one of his worst nights, it was miserable for him and frustrating for his wife, Judy. His struggle was a two edge sword. Not only did he suffer from his own affliction but he exposed her to the aura of despair created by his agony. That guilt doubled the suffering.

Year after year, she stood by his side. She comforted during his low points. She encouraged during his despair. And, amazingly, she stayed with him. Much to his surprise, and sometimes to his disappointment, she tolerated his constant complaining. Maybe if she yelled at him for being such an idiot he wouldn’t have felt guilty. Maybe if she stormed out the door cussing and cursing the day she agreed to spend her life with an extreme pessimist he would actually feel better. But she never did. He continually complained about work and politics and she continually to console. Read the rest of this entry »

I was innocently searching for a lost credit card when I stumbled upon the letter in her dresser which awakened my slumbering suspicions. The letter was my pass to pursue deeper. Not incriminating evidence on its own, but strong enough that I felt justified to dig.

In retrospect, the software which activated the web camera sitting on the computer monitor whenever movement was detected may have been over the edge. But she was used to the webcam. It had sat innocently on top of the monitor in the bedroom for months. I didn’t even have to hide it. It was a cool idea but turned out to be useless. Even the audio capture which allowed me to hear her end of all telephone calls paled in comparison to the real pay dirt; access to her email account. This is where I learned everything…and the beginning of my downfall.

She’d recently changed her password; something I hadn’t checked for months. I set up the account for her (she’s not computer savvy) but now I was locked out. Getting her password required key logging software on her laptop…a program that sat quietly in the background and recorded every keystroke. Several days passed before I had a chance to copy the text file and remove the program. It was tough to be patient but I knew I had to play it cool. She couldn’t suspect anything.

All her friends knew I was being dumped, but she hadn’t told me. Her secret lover also knew. But, because my key logging software had divulged her password, now I also knew what was around the corner. It gave me a chance time to get some of the tears and anger out beforehand. Read the rest of this entry »

The sleek black train did not thunder down the tracks. It sped silently and secretly as it rushed to an unknown place. It had traveled long and far…and I stood in its path, clueless. Cold metal slammed against my back, flipping me onto my chest and plastering me against the front of the large engine. Through the windshield, I saw the conductor concentrating on the road ahead; trying to see around my body and through the bloody streaks on the glass. I slid up, smearing blood, until I flew into the air. Below, the train continued to rage ahead to an unknown destination.

I don’t know how much time passed. I woke to my body in a mangled contorted heap on hard ground. I didn’t move or open my eyes. I simply acknowledged the strange sensation of my arms and legs twisted into a mess. Cold mud cooled the right side of my face and I wondered if I was dead. I couldn’t imagine surviving such a horrible ordeal. Slowly, I opened my eyes. The light was dim and with my face pressed to the ground, all I saw were blades of grass and mud. I moved my fingers but it hurt. I closed my eyes again, deciding it was better to stay still. Perhaps it was also better not to see the damage to my body. I went back to sleep.

Time passed, although I don’t know how much, and I woke again and opened my eyes. The same blades of grass greeted me. This time I didn’t try to move my fingers. I didn’t move my eyes either. Instead, I stared blankly as I took long and deep breaths. The air was like a drug. With each breath my head felt lighter. My body floated as I continued to inhale deeply…and soon, I fell asleep. Read the rest of this entry »

This is my short story that I’ve tried over the years to get published as a children’s picture book. I imagine the pages the left side of the book are always the first tree and the right side the second. At the end of the story, I have provided information on how this story is a metaphor for self esteem and also includes parenting philosophy.

*** 

As the morning light chased away the darkness, a young Gardner sat on a quiet hillside gazing down into a valley.

Her visit today was special. In a pouch she carried two small seeds. They came from an apple tree that had given fruit and cool shade to her family for many years.

The Gardner searched the hillside and found a safe place for two little trees. She made two shallow holes in the soil. From her canteen, she poured some water into each hole to help the seeds start growing.

She imagined tiny seeds as large apple trees. “My dear little seeds, now is your chance to grow and experience the world,” she told them. Read the rest of this entry »

The corners of Terry’s lips are tight and turned down, but he doesn’t notice. Frozen like the mannequin watching his back, he stares as dancing red taillights inch their way out of the city. Most people crowd under the awning to hide from the rain, but not Terry. He stands near the road to optimize his chance in the upcoming race for a seat on the bus. Three busses, but not the 514, splash past and belch out a moan while stopping at the curb; spraying him with a muddy mist that covers his coat with tiny brown spots. They suck in a load of passengers and moan again while crawling out to join the dance.A sharp pain shoots from the center of his right eye to the middle of his skull. Reflexively, he drops his gaze downward while placing his thumb on one temple and forefinger on the other. He closes his eyes and squeezes until the pain begins to fade. He notices that his jaw is clenched with such force that it could support his weight as he dangled precariously on the end of a rope high above the ground. He attempts to relax his clamped teeth by squeezing tighter with his fist. As the pain continues to subside, his jaw relaxes. He breaths deep and exhales while releasing his grip. Slowly, he lifts his eyelids. The floodgate opens and the world pours back in to his stream of conscious. He preferred the headache.

The 514 belches past, splashing him, and stops a few yards away. For a moment he has a clear path to the rear door. He wants to hurry but doesn’t want to look foolish. His awkward hustled step accomplishes neither. The crowd surges forward and he is lost in a sea of commuters. With his face inches away from the back of a dark blue raincoat, he begins a tiny-two-step shuffle towards the bus door. He’ll make the bus, but will he be sitting or standing for the next eighty-minutes? He dreads standing. A seat on the bus can erase an entire day of telling the mouthpiece of a telephone that it does not have enough insurance. He reaches the doorway, steps up, and looks right; to the front of the bus. No empty seats. Even the aisle is crowded with standing passengers. His eyes widen and his chest pounds. In the back of his head, an image of his boss is laughing. He needed and expected a seat today. He begins walking left while jerking around his head which creates a smeared, blurry image of the bus interior. As the distorted image clears and his focus returns, an empty seat in the back emerges. In a rush of giant stumbling steps, he claims it. Thank God, he’ll be sitting. Read the rest of this entry »

“I was Jesus.”Josh was surprised; it was the first time he heard Toby speak. Actually, Toby probably wasn’t his name. Two months ago, a dirty brown coat supporting a ratted mess of long brown twisted hair appeared in an alley Josh walked past every day. Josh named him Toby. He always sat with his knees folded up inside his coat and his arms wrapped around them. His head leaned forward and rested on his knees. Two weeks ago, Josh had left an apple next to him. For the past week, he’d left something every day.

Toby lifted his head. His hair and beard were horribly neglected and covered all but his eyes and forehead.

“That’s right, I was Jesus.”

His voice was low and soothing, like the DJ of an easy-listening radio station. He had captivating soft blue eyes which held Josh as he stared. He felt safe and comfortable. As he stared past the blue rings into the dark pupils of this stranger, his chest pounded. He then saw flashes of light and he found himself standing on a beach as cool water lapped against his feet. The sky went dark and he looked up to find himself standing in a dusty city as buildings crumbled around him. Screams and gunfire ripped at his ears. With a blink, he was now standing in a small hut where a young woman breastfed a newborn baby in the dim light. Another scene, then another; each shorter and moving faster the previous. Soon, he could no longer make out details as flashes of lights danced around him and sounds of people laughing and screaming surrounded him. He breathed fast and hard. Where was he? What was happening? Overwhelmed and scared, he screamed and the images faded. He saw blue eyes of Toby holding him hostage. His arms and legs tingled. He tried to open his mouth but was only able to crack his lips. Toby then dropped his head and severed the link. Read the rest of this entry »

I wanted to run but couldn’t. Instead, I stood motionless and stared. His legs were crossed and arms outstretched on the back edge of the park bench where he casually lounged like any other normal person. But he wasn’t a normal person. His face was shadowed yet I knew he was watching me…smiling and daring me to approach. I couldn’t lose this opportunity even to save my soul. Afraid he might vanish, I walked with my eyes locked to his dark face.“Hi Ginny,” he said through the outline of a wicked grin.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“I’ve always been here.”

I was silent while a lifetime of fear, hope, and questions puked themselves out from all parts of my body. It was standing in a treasure filled cavern under the temperamental eye of the dragon. Was it safe to touch…to take? One effortless breath and my ash blowing in the wind would be my final mark in the world. But I was here and not yet vaporized. I felt courage and with eyes locked, I tenderly pick my way, step by step, through the jewels. Battling my fear of the dragon is my greed for the treasure…the questions I would ask. I consider my limited ability to retrieve but a small handful of jewels. My mind raced and forced an awkward silence which he broke. Read the rest of this entry »