Shorties: Number 40

This is an excerpt from my story, The Parting


They had dinner at a Macaroni Grill in a town close to them. Bob wore a shirt and tie but no jacket and Samantha wore a form fitting black and gold dress. Bob’s eyes popped when he saw her. Without holding back, he said, “You look great!” Samantha smiled coyly, “Why thank you.”

Ordinarily, Bob would be a little shy around such a pretty woman but his shell had started to crack as he got to know Charlotte better. Still, he was a bit reserved even though Samantha had given many signs of her interest in him. She smiled at him and touched his hand or arm at every opportunity. Bob simply wasn’t used to attention like this. Finally, before the entrees were finished he worked up the nerve and asked, “Are you interested in me?”
“What?”

“Are you interested in me?”

“Well, yes. Is that a problem?”

“Sort of, yes”

“Why?”

“I’m interested in someone else.”

Connecting the dots in her mind, Samantha asked, “Are you interested in Charlotte?”
Feeling like a child who was caught stealing from the cookie jar he replied, “Yes.”

“Does she know?”

“No. I haven’t told her. I was going to tell her the day we met.” He wished he hadn’t added that last part.

“But me being there ruined that, didn’t it?”

Bob nodded and added, “It is for the best since she loves Jack.”

“Agreed but now we have a scandalous love triangle.” Samantha said with a smile.

“Not really. I don’t love you.”

“Are you trying to break my heart already?”

“No.”

“Then can’t we be friends? Hang out from time to time?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Sounding so certain makes my heart all aflutter.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve just never had anyone as pretty as you express even the slightest interest in me before. I’m just not used to being around women. I would like to get to know you better, though.”

“That’s more like it.”

As they went their separate ways, Samantha leaned in for a goodnight kiss but Bob gave her a hug instead. Surprised, a little insulted and maybe even flattered, Samantha said good night and thanked Bob for a nice evening. In the moments after they parted, she couldn’t help but think that Charlotte was right, Bob was a nice guy. Maybe what she needed for her whole life was a nice guy.

Shorties: Number 39

This is an excerpt from my story, On To The Past.


I lay there with my eyes closed.  Part of me still didn’t believe this was possible.  I wondered if someone would yell, “Smile!  You’re on Candid Camera!”  Nevertheless, I began to relax and focused on specific things of that time and place.  Slowly, I could feel myself drifting.  It was as if I was falling asleep. 

Then there came a sensation that is hard to describe.  It was like a soft rain.  Like warm raindrops softly splashing upon me, I could feel tension washing away.  I was floating, traveling but I wasn’t moving.  The world moved.  It was as if the universe moved at my command.  My mind willed and it obeyed.  More drops fell and it was as if I was being washed away.  Bit by bit, I was going away.  Not me, my flesh was leaving me.

Was it really my earthly body that was leaving?  I retained my spirit and it was infinite.  Great mysteries of the universe suddenly seemed common knowledge.  It was as if without a body, I was free to do all things unencumbered.  Human flesh greatly restricts all that is possible.  It is a governor that squelches all the possibilities that we truly are. 

I reveled in that moment, that eternity, for it was both.  I was all time.  I was a split second, a flash.  I was eternity.  It was pure energy.  There were colors I’d never seen before.  The veils of my eyes were removed and visions danced across.  I can’t say they danced before my eyes or across my vision.  It was more than that.  They moved by, around, and through me.  But the colors, oh, the colors.  Hues never seen by human eyes.  There is no way to describe them but the brightness and clarity are unsurpassed by any seen on earth.  It is like at one time only seeing black, white, and grays and suddenly seeing color.  There are no words for it. 

Slowly, I descended back to reality and back into the facade that is the human body.  Our bodies are mere housings to our spirit.  Once we can glimpse beyond the veil, we are forever changed.  As human consciousness began to return, it seemed that I was cold.  However, it isn’t that I felt cold.  I believe it was more so that after feeling the warm “raindrops” and being in such an ecstatic state of being, the only alternative was to feel cold.  I was back in the real world.  But in which world was I?  In what time? 

Finally and Always

When I was a boy

I learned how to hate 

Punish the bad

Condemn him to fate

Doing those things

The bad boys would do

Tremors of guilt

Each time I was through 

No one could love

A boy bad as me

I look inside

Great darkness I see 

Wanting some light 

I know I don't shine 

On the treadmill

I'm toeing the line

I would love you

If you would love me

Wishing for hope

With eyes I don't see

I hate the lie 

That ruins my life

Give up the pain

Remove the strife

How well I know

The posture of pain 

Too long I've known

Life full of shame

Let the tears pour

I don't care how long

Make hidden pain

And darkness be gone

Tear after tear

Let it rinse away

Sob upon sob

Revealing the day

Hatred is wrong 

I've known that is true

Hating yourself 

It only kills you 

(c) August 2017

Duane Windell Phillips

Shorties: Number 38

This is an excerpt of a story I am writing.  I'm not completely satisfied with this. I find it hard to place my mind in heavenly realms and see things the way an angel might see them.  Jackson and Jill are married and Bethany is their newborn.  Angelos, Alea and Bene are guardian angels. 

Jackson, Bethany’s father stayed home from work for the next two weeks.  Bene, Jackson’s angel, Alae and Angelos remained vigilant to Jill’s heart and the household.  Postpartum depression darkened Jill’s spirit and she struggled to regain her footing. 

The angelic trio focused energies on their charges.  They knew all humans must endure pain.  It cannot exist in a vacuum and must be held by all people but pain is not a burden to carry alone.  Nevertheless, pain and sorrow are instruments to pry open the light that was carefully placed inside them.  Only humans are given the light of heaven.  Animals recognize a difference and angels marvel the light.  Nevertheless, humans are charged with sharing it.  It takes a human to shine light on another.  When all open their hearts to the heavenly luminance, and the light comes down from heaven, the world will finally begin healing. 

Day and night the angels imparted idyllic memories of the paradise they shared before their earthly arrivals.  Such scenes and perfect endings are not fairy tales.  They are true reflections of a time once held and humans can keep these memories when they focus on the love of heaven in their hearts.  There remains always a measure of heavenly love. 

In quiet moments of bright reflection, humans faintly recognize the mark of Godly perfection left upon them.  Flashes of adoration bathe them and it feels familiar.  They know deep in their being they were meant for more than the monotony of earth.  For all the beauty to behold on terra firma, humans realize there is more.  The earth is a dim echo of heavenly realms for which they created to share.   

Unfortunately, as evil, pain and sorrow continue in life, their vision fades.  Myopic, humans bump about only seeing their own pain.  Consequently, they rush to soothe this ache that never leaves.  Alcohol, drugs, sex, power and many other ointments may dull pain but never quench the thirst that burns them.  Man forgets healing comes when he open his heart and allows his light to shine.  As they look to one another and their brightness illuminates the soul in crossing rays of light, it becomes obvious God wants His creation to love one another.  It is a God given plan to warm the hearts of His creation.  Healing comes to all with open hearts. 

For now, Jill could only focus on the pain she felt.  Jackson poured himself into his little girl.  She looked in his eyes as he held her.  Jill had pumped breast milk earlier and Bethany sucked heavily.  Jackson saw perfection in his arms.  His heart swelled with love for his daughter but the recent actions of his wife gravely concerned him.  He spoke softly to Bethany.  He promised a world of beauty and love. 

In that moment, Jackson and Bethany were as close to heaven as humans can get in this realm.  Angelos, Alae, and Bene rejoiced in father and daughter living as God intended.  Bethany totally loved and trusted her father.  She recognized a memory recently faded.  This caused a stir in Angelos and his spirit leapt.  Then his body shone brightly.  As a result, Alae and Bene joined him to bathe the home in a heavenly glow.  Jill’s spirit began to calm and eventually the darkness left her. 

Shorties: Number 37

After many years and a long string of broken relationships, it came down to this:  A broken ash tray reduced him to tears.  Why would such an insignificant piece of pottery cause such a break down?  It was the shattering of glass and the plume of flying ashes that returned him to childhood.  

His parents had been fighting and arguing for many months.  Too often it happened and that the sparks would start flying while he and his older brother were sleeping.  Nasty words and horrible accusations flew about the house while he and his brother were glued to their beds as tears streamed down their faces.

Why didn't the parents understand that their words and actions cut so deeply into the hearts of little boys? Little boys don't care who is right or wrong.  They just want to be loved and know that the ones who love them also love each other.  Without that, the world is a much darker place.  

Then came the night of the huge blow up.  The arguments had been bad before but this took a turn for the worst.  The fighting intensified until suddenly the sound of breaking glass pierced the night.  Both boys bolted upright and looked at each other.  Anxiety lined their faces.  Still, neither moved from their beds.  

Fear of what they might see kept them glued to the sheets.  More glass exploded in the night. Then a scream cried for him to get out.  They heard the front door open and close.  The truck started. They heard the gravel crunch beneath the tires as it backed out of the driveway.  The motor revved and the truck sped away.  The only sound was sobbing coming from their mother downstairs.  Still, the boys did not move. Eventually, their own cries put them to sleep.  

When morning light began to seep into the house, the boy crept down to view the carnage.  Apprehension filled him as he tiptoed his way.  Then he saw it.  He parents used a log shaped ash tray in the house and it now lay in pieces.  Somehow, the boy's soul identified with that ash tray.  Eventually, he accepted the fact that he would never see his father again.  Looking back on it all now, he realized his tender heart was the ash tray.  It was broken and never to be repaired.  

He spent his life trying to be worthy of love and desperately wanted to love him.  However, he never felt comfortable and believed he had to continually work to keep everyone happy.  If they were happy, they wouldn't get mad or hate him or leave him.  That obliterated ash tray from his childhood demonstrated that he didn't do enough to keep the ones he loved together.  Since he never left the bed to do SOMETHING, his parents separated.  He couldn't comprehend why his father never contacted them. The hole in his heart was so vast.  

With a cigarette hanging in his trembling hand and a broken ash tray on the floor, it started to make sense.  As his therapist put it, he is not to blame.  Accidents happen.  He didn't mean to knock it on the ground.  The therapist retrieved another ash tray from a cupboard and placed it on the table next to him.  

There is nothing a little boy of 6 can do to keep his parents together.  There is also nothing he can do to separate them.  The tears continued streaming but for the first time in his life he felt that each tear was washing away the dirt and grime that had caked his soul.  The thought of the possibility of being whole was enough hope for him right now.  There was finally hope.  

#hope  

Shorties: Number 36

Smoke stung Paul Smith’s eyes but he felt so alive.  Thirteen of his friends, two scout leaders and two parents sat around the campfire.  A city boy, Paul dreamed of camping and cooking hot dogs over an open fire.  His face beamed as he held the stick with a skewered wiener on the end. 

He’d already eaten one.  He would eat this one soon.  He eyed the graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate waiting in the scout leader’s tent.  Meanwhile, there was loud, excited conversation amongst the boys.  Most had camped before and knew what to do.  This was Paul’s first time.

Paul smiled at his best friend, Nicky James.  Nicky held his hot dog over the fire.  It was beyond the cooked stage.  Now it resembled charcoal more than processed meat.  Nevertheless, Nicky was determined to roast it until it broke into pieces and fell into the fire.  He held the dog over the fire for a few minutes.  Then he would lift the stick and bring the wiener close.  After a close inspection, he would frown and thrust it back in the fire. 

Paul was hungry and preferred to eat.  Nicky was a picky eater.  Paul once considered calling his friend Picky Nicky but decided against it.  Nicky said, “Hey Paul, ya ever cooked a marshmallow before?”

“Nope.”

“You leave em in the fire for a minute and hit catches fire.  Then it’s like a torch.”

“Really?  Cool!”

“Yeah, it is.  Then you can rip the skin off and eat it and make another torch.  It's great!”

Paul smiled.  This was so unlike his normal life.  Living in the city, he only knew buildings and concrete.  The woodlands were so foreign but he loved it.  His attention was drown to Ronnie, the oldest scout in the troop.  Ronnie announced, “I’m going to take crap over here in the woods.  Then I’m going to wipe with some leaves that I find and I don’t even care if they are poison ivy.”

They were. 

Squelched Psyche

Squelched psyche
Stillborn word
Mournful reign
Lifelong dirge
 
© September 2017
Duane Windell Phillips