You captured it so perfectly- The monstrous trees, their orange leaves allowed the sun to peek through the Fall flavor – The gravel road marked the spot, securing its place in the middle of nature. It had unknowingly became a makeshift grave for a woman whom for a decade now had no home. The duffel bag she carried sat empty along the path. Her belongings scattered across the ground, they no longer held meaning. All she had was gone including her last breath.

You stood yards back, snapped the picture and then had the audacity to take the film to the store for development. They could have turned you in but most assuredly they didn’t notice your crime or didn’t care enough to report it. After all, there was no direct effect on them. I’m sure their earbuds filled their brains with fictional crime podcasts or music that lacked meaning.

With nothing more than an ugly shade of nail polish, you painted over her body and pinned the photograph to your refrigerator with a pizza delivery magnet, the phone number is now out of service.

As I stand here ashamed of what you had done. I can’t help but to remember how you taught me that laughter is contagious. I chuckled a bit from the next room when I heard your recliner slide backwards as you giggled at the television. You were old and forgetful. I convinced myself that you didn’t realize your mistake. I love you unconditionally because you will forever be my dad. I contemplate putting a pillow over your face.

“Yodelayheehoo!” Cameron cupped his hands around his mouth to make his silliness echo louder.

Jeremiah pulled at his best friend’s windbreaker. “Come on, now! You’re going to get us in trouble. Mrs. Corinth will ban us from the next field trip.”

“Who cares? I’ve seen it all a million times,” Cameron, slipping his hands into his pockets stood helplessly bored.

“She cares,” Jeremiah pointed at Maggie Mae Mulligan. The new girl who tried her best to keep Cameron’s attention. Every day this week she’d dropped a book or two in front of Cameron then twirled around to pick it up.

Alone, she stared at the Egyptian mummy on his second round of mummifying, the main attraction at the Columbus museum for nearly three decades now, his linen cloth was missing in a number of places.

“Cam!” Maggie ran towards Cameron. “I swear it moved.”

“No way!” Cameron followed her over to the display. He turned back to wink at Jeremiah. He hadn’t admitted it but Jeremiah knew Cameron was fond of the girl.

“There!” She pointed towards his chest. “He’s breathing!”

“Where? Show me!”

Maggie moved closer to the exhibit. Cameron, leaned in behind her. When she turned to speak, he pressed his lips unexpectedly on hers. She gasped for breath.

The school bully wittingly made up a tune and led the class through the hook. “King Tut. Fell in love with Queen Slut. King Tut.” 🎶 Before he could belt out another word, Cameron slammed him into the the petrified corpse then sent blood flying when he punched him dead in his little piglet nose. Cameron oinked in his direction, put his arm around Maggie Mae and headed towards the souvenir shop.

“Over the waters and through the sky, to Putin’s house we go.” 🎵

“Mr. President, please sit down and fasten your seat belt.”

“Have you ever heard such a great song? There’s not another song as great as this one. Okay, maybe the song about going to Grandmother’s house at Christmas comes in second.”

“Air Force One knows the way, to carry Donny Jay wherever he wants to go-oh.”🎵

“Can we just turn this plane around? I am done with the secret service! I’ve had enough of this foolishness! The American people are struggling to fill up their tanks and this clown has us flying to Russia for a golf tournament!”

“What’s your name? Ben?”

“It’s Bryan!”

“Ben, who invited you in the first place?”

“It’s my job to protect you! I’m the reason you still have an ear!”

I spent the summer with the grands in Normandy when I turned eighteen. Born in the States, it was important that I experience my parent’s birth place and get to know their folks.

Boredom ruled my life while I was there. I spent most of my time on the far-away grassy hill, blowing dandelions and daydreaming about the Prince that must live in the centuries old castle across the waters. He was surely of strong build, handsome, rich, and older than me. The thought of an experienced man made me tingle on the inside. Today was no different, my mind was in the palace with him.

I positioned myself comfortably on the ground, ran my hand underneath my waistband and drifted off into fantasyland.” What’s your name, good sir?” pretending we were alone – having just met.

I let out a slight moan.

“Can I help you with that?” He stood above me, dimming the sun’s path. He kneeled down, seductively replacing my hand with his. “No,” I could feel my face heat up. I grabbed his wrist, and struggled slightly to make him stop though I needed and wanted him to continue.

He lifted me up, pressed his lips gently against my ear, and with a soft accent he spoke, “I have seen you here before. I intend to see you again.” With his eyebrows raised, he complimented my beauty. Taking a ruby ring from his pinky, he placed it in my hand and closed my fingers tightly around it. “I believe in fairytales just as you.”

THE BEGINNING…..

She peddled along occasionally glimpsing at the ripples in the water. She could only imagine what filth and disgust corrupted it.

Her hair blew in the summer breeze. Her wide framed sunglasses hid the top part of her face. Her bicycle, old and warn had been her only form of transportation since she became of legal age to operate an automobile.

A heavily forced whistle exited the mouth of a young man as he whizzed past her on his ten speed. He circled back around whistling again and then stopping to await her response. She ignored him until finally, she asked him to move. His bike, sideways, blocked her from going ahead.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

With no answer, she dismounted her bike, walked over to the fella, and straddled his front wheel while holding onto the handle bars. “Get out of my way!” She clinched her teeth while speaking.

He laughed, leaned in closer to her, and whistled again.

The world around her closed in, with a mighty force fueled by rage, she pushed him to the ground, picked up his bicycle and with ease threw it into the murky water. Everyone around froze in fear, realizing her clothes had ripped, her skin was now green and her muscles were bigger than those of a grizzly bear. “Rrrrrrrrrrr…..” she growled. “Can’t a girl just enjoy a simple bike ride?”

She twisted her ankle sloppily walking down the steps. The railing didn’t prevent her clumsy slip up. There was nothing that could’ve saved her from the trip or what was yet to come. Four glasses of moscato and the walls were a blur.

“Whoopsie daisy,” A tall dark silhouette blended in with the dreary scene. He took her by the arm, straightening her stance. “Are you okay, miss?” He asked.

“I’m fine, going to my car,” she ran her hand across her clothing, brushed her hair from her face and put one foot in front of the other immediately slumping, forgetting her injury from moments ago. “Whoopsie daisy,” he caught her again.

“Let me help you. You are in no condition to drive,” he picked her up. She laid her head over on his shoulder. Out cold, he carried her to his vehicle. She stirred next to him as he weaved in and out of traffic. She opened her eyes. He forcefully sent his elbow into her forehead. “Whoopsie daisy,” he groaned. “Didn’t your mother teach you to never talk to strangers?”

A little cup of nothing, that’s what my life has seemingly become. My dreams and goals all went down the drain in one fast circular motion, never to be seen again, chances are, I wouldn’t recognize them if they were to reappear. Minutes turn into hours, hours into days, days into months, and so on. I didn’t realize how true the statement, “The older you get, the faster time goes.”

I don’t know what I’ve missed, what I’ve accomplished or what I truly have going for me. I’m not sure who or what can validate my success or lack there of.

Maybe I’m just a little teapot, not short, not stout, no handle on anything. I’m already tipped over. I’ve poured out my entire soul over years of confusion, desire, lust, love, desperation, insanity, even bouts of stability and peace. Yet, still, something is missing and I will never know what that something is. I am human and I will never be completely satisfied. Maybe for short periods of time but never completely. Will you?

Her weary bones and heavy heart never took her soul. She fed it nightly with scripture, verse after verse and then again, often forgetting what she had just read. She was never alone although sometimes she couldn’t remember who was in the room with her. She trusted enough to live, enough to sometimes smile and even giggle at life’s funny moments. She was a rarity, a real gem. She was our mother, an irreplaceable part of our lives.

I was crushed after her passing. I picked up her Bible and held it close to my chest. Taking a deep breath, I sighed with a tad bit of relief knowing that this was the one possession she cherished. I found peace in that. I opened it to the front page and fought back tears as I read her shaky handwriting, “Give to Joyce when I’m gone.” I didn’t make it to Genesis, angry that she left her Bible to my sister. She knew I’d see the note.

I followed her wishes. My sister cried with happiness at her inheritance. It was more valuable than she could realize. I stormed out of her house and drove as fast as I could back home. I sat down in momma’s chair and mourned, only now with confirmation that she loved my sister more than me. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and hopelessly stared at her chest of drawers. Sitting on the cherry wood was another Bible, the one she had been given on her wedding day by her own mother. We assumed for years that it had been lost. A small bunch of purple lilacs sat atop her favorite scripture, Psalms one. Only I knew of her love for those words. I haven’t a clue how it reappeared but I know it was a gift from God.

He kicked at a couple of rocks, the cuffs of his jeans, slightly rolled up calling the attention away from his dirty shoes. A pack of cigarettes were neatly tucked into the sleeve of his white t-shirt. He silently counted his steps.

I sat on the side of the tracks, a daily norm after school – anything to keep from going home. It wasn’t a pleasant place.

He stopped, looked over at me and nodded towards the tunnel. I got up and slowly followed him. I guess most girls are fearless at fourteen, I was no exception. He was cute and I do mean cute, an intriguing stranger. He stopped halfway underneath and leaned against the concrete wall. He took a comb from his pocket and ran it through his oily black hair, his hand followed making sure every strand was in place. He reached towards me and gently took my wrist pulling me closer to him. His hazel eyes stared peacefully into mine, a slight smile formed on his face. He took my other arm and tightened his grip. His lips gaped open revealing a gruesome, damp, red, teeth-filled, tongue-less hole. He forced out the word “secrets” from his chest using what he could of his vocal cords. I ran quickly away, tripping over a railroad tie. I lay there frozen in fear. He turned back, leaving me alone. I found out later that he was the estranged son of my mother’s boyfriend. It didn’t take much to realize what would happen if I told my truth. I guess it was a warning of the sort.

I’m now blinded. I no longer see a future for myself.

The water glistened like ice in a tall glass of tea. I stood leaning against the railing of my one-hundred and twenty-seven foot yacht watching as two guys rode the waves on a tiny sailing apparatus. The sight made me laugh. But what didn’t tickle my funny bone was the reason I had decided to set off on an excursion of my own. I wanted to get away from it all; my life, my wife, my job, my desires and as bad as I hate to say it, my kids. I believed time away would heal my soul, help me make better choices, keep me away from my thoughts and the things I did after having them.

I took the megaphone from its place and called out. “Have a drink with me.” It took no time at all for me to retreat back to my evil ways. I knew these guys couldn’t resist an invitation to experience my luxurious mansion on the sea. They would never believe I was the only person onboard – the captain and the king of this vessel.

I tied their tiny sea wagon to the side of my monstrous million-dollar moving machine.

I added my potion to a fine whiskey, distributed it to my new friends, and for dinner I fried them up like the fresh ocean catch they were. Bon appetit!

Uggghh… I wanted so bad to change! I pay the cost to be the boss and so the story remains