Month: November 2014

For the kids

The children were excited to see Disney’s Fire and Reign at the cinema. The whole fifth grade class, even the boys, had been carrying on about it for weeks. It was hard not to be possessed with want for the film. Especially if you were a ten year old girl. Extensively advertised on Nickelodeon and, of course, Disney.  The soundtrack heavily rotated on the radio. It would be perfect, Bethany thought.  Just perfect.

Disney’s twin princesses, a delightful story.  Bethany’s own twin girls, the target audience. The movie was all the rage the Christmas of 2015.  The girls were wearing black and red sweaters emblazoned with the movie’s logo beneath their white fur lined coats.  Their gloves, from Walmart, held the logo too.  Their light up sneakers, laces with Fire on one and Reign on the other. It just made sense that this night would be the night.  A night everyone would remember.

Bethany let the children get whatever they wanted from the snack-bar.  Popcorn, Twizzlers and blue raspberry ICEEs.  They were tickled…pink.  And Bethany’s hands were shaking.  But she was smiling as she tucked them inside her winter fleece.  Nerves were natural. Expected, all things considered.  But she would stuff her emotions down deep inside her, once again.  Deep down, in the same place all the pain he caused her lingered.  Up against her spine.  Heavy on her back.  Dark within her soul.  It would be over soon.  But first, the alibi would be secured.

A mid-week movie with the children.  A popular movie so they would be seen by many.  At the new cineplex with the beefed up security system.  The one with cameras pointed at every entrance, every exit, in front of each theater.  Within the hallways.  A system meant to catch an approaching madman, to lock down theater doors should he try to wreak havoc.  A system that would record her every move that night just the same as if she were a potential madman.  It would digitally secure her alibi.

The twins sat next to one another, Bethany sat next to a friend from the Mom’s Club. Beside her, her own three daughters, who recognized Bethany Myers right away and politely said hello. Bethany hugged them both. Remember my embrace she silently suggested with a squeeze and a pat on the back.  Beyond all of them sat another Mother Bethany knew very well.  In front of her, the girls’ Girl Scout Troop leader. In the row behind them, seven other Mothers from the neighborhood and their daughters.  Bethany spoke to every one of them.  Lively and relaxed on the outside.  Ticking off alibi’s on the inside.  She spilled her popcorn, made a fuss about cleaning it up.  The troop leader got the attention of a staff member on Bethany’s behalf.  Who fussed even more and brought Bethany a pile of napkins and new bucket of popcorn. Alibi number eleven.  She was satisfied with that.  Eleven would be a magical number.

The lights dimmed.  Bethany sat back in her seat.  A comfortable almost recliner like chair in the very center of the theater.  The type of seat if she needed to leave mid-film, the entire row would be disrupted in either direction.  Everyone would remember she never left her seat.

The theater lights dimmed and the advertisements rolled past everyone on the screen.  And Bethany didn’t let herself look at her watch a single time during the movie though she knew it was going to happen at precisely 7:40pm.  She didn’t take her eyes off the big screen – except to pass the girls on the far side of her a napkin and to sing the song they all knew so well along with the rest of the theater and her twin girls.  A chorus of happy ladies.

One hundred and ten minutes later, Bethany and her twins exited the theater with a throng full of people.  Everyone gathered by the bathrooms as the little girls tinkled out their ICEEs and gushed about Evan, the evil, but oh so cute! prince that stole Reign from the Moon Kingdom.  He was like totally hot even if he was bad bad bad.  Bethany sighed.  They’ll learn that lesson the hard way she supposed.  Just like she had.

Eleven years ago, Bethany met her Prince Evan – but his name was Anthony and well…he was no prince.  At least not for long and never again after the girls came.  He changed.  That happens.  But the rest – that should never never happen.

The girls loaded in to Bethany’s Toyota Sienna.  And Bethany turned on the Fire and Reign soundtrack, per their request.  And she drove carefully through the night streets.  Admiring the sparkling holiday lights around the light poles.  The twinkling wreaths on shop windows downtown.  It wasn’t exceptionally chilly but Bethany cranked the heat anyway.  Shaking again.  She texted a few friends at red lights.  There were nearly nine between the cineplex, main street and home.  Each text pinging at a proper location.  A roadmap.  Movie Theater…WaWa for milk….Home.

The girls didn’t register the police car, sitting in front of their modest house.  Bethany’s circle is resplendent with them.  A little haven, in an expensive town, with cozy sixty year old homes public workers could afford.  And people like Bethany – a divorcee with nothing to fall back upon.  A quiet job at the library.  A paycheck that was lighter than air.  A rented two bedroom cottage badly in need of updating, all she could afford as well, after spending the last eleven years of her life being completely and utterly invisible.

“Go on inside…get in your jammies…” Bethany directed as they climbed out of the car and headed towards the porch stairs.  She kept her eyes on the girls.  Her keys still.  It would be unnatural for her to look over her shoulder.  It would be unnatural for her to acknowledge the police man that sat inside the car at the curb.  She had to act natural.

She shut the front door behind them, turned off the porch light and climbed the stairs behind the girls to the second floor.  She would act as natural as possible.  She would go through the girl’s bedtime routine like nothing had happened.  As far as she knew, nothing had.  Naturally.

LRRH (10)

Erica and Jared sat side by side on the couch in silence for quite a while.  May busied herself elsewhere in the bungalow.  They listened to her unload the dishwasher and stack the plates in the cupboards.  Arrange the silverware in a drawer.  Then May loaded it back up.  Pots and pans and the cutting board.  Cabinets opened, then closed.  The screen door opened and closed.  May flittered back and forth at the back of the house until eventually she too was quiet.

They could hear the refrigerator humming. The hot water heater kick on then off.  But neither said a word.

Eventually Jared placed his hand on top of Erica’s and said “So now what?”

It was Erica’s turn to say “I don’t know.”  Then “Maybe you should go.  I don’t want to do this with you.”

Jared felt stabbed in the heart but he also very quickly understood he deserved that.  He also had to admit he wanted to leave too.  The wall between them was too high.  She had nothing left to give, no room for a fresh start and he … well he didn’t want to start over.  He loved her and he missed her but that wasn’t enough to let her inside his well insulated heart.

So they joined May on the back deck.  Had a small and safe conversation before Jared walked himself to the ferry.  From the stern he watched Breezy Point disappear and it was then, only there with his back to Manhattan and his eyes on a little girl playing with shells on the sand, that he let himself cry.  Truly cry.  And he pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolled right to Erica’s number and prepared a text message after wiping the tears away with the back of his hand.

The text messages read thus:

I’m a coward.  >send<

And a fool.  >send<

You deserve better than this and I don’t know how to give you everything you deserve without losing too much of myself.  If ever there were someone I could see myself with, it would be you.  It would be you a thousand times over.  But I can’t actually see myself with anyone.   And that is no reflection on you at all.  It’s my crap. Bullshit that has built up inside me for years.  Call it a wall.  Call it stupidity.  Call it being a chicken shit.  But… >send<

Hit send too quick.  Sorry.  Call me a coward (it’s fitting) but I think it’s best if we both move on.  You will find someone that is everything and everyone you’ve ever needed in life.  And he’ll treat you so much better than I ever would or could.  Tell May I’m sorry too.  I’m sorry for it all.  >send<

And he slipped his iphone in to the front pocket of his shirt and he placed both his hands on the railing of the boat and he dipped his head down and let it all go.

And Erica never texted him back.  He checked every 5 minutes for days.  Turned the phone on and off to be sure it was working right.  Sent messages to everyone he knew, got responses immediately.  Confirmed there was no glitch with text messages.  And eventually, a few days later, he stopped thinking about her again.  Put her in the back of his mind and went on about living.  Played on VyRT.  Gave a few tech talk interviews.  And paid no attention to what he’d done, yet again.

Until a Friday, four or five weeks later, when he was reading the World Wide Trending Topics List on twitter and he saw her name again.

The hashtag read thus:


And Jared flipped the fuck out.

Hippie roots (nonfiction)

We are put here on this earth to live our lives to the fullest and some of us are really good at it. They are the lucky ones.  The rest of us just wander.  Up and over rocky trails that never yielded gold when other men traversed.  Never is it more apparent than today, how lost we all are.  This world is fucked up, whether you find yourself in Phuket or Delaware City.  We’re in need of revolution.  Revelation.  Life change.  So why aren’t we doing anything about it?  Why do we just wander with our eyes down and our hearts heavy? What is wrong with all of us?

We don’t need new technology, we need peace.  Peace of mind.  Peace of heart.  A peaceful soul.  Who is seeking a patent for that?

I’m lost.  So is Jared.  He’s a gypsy and he’s a soldier but he’s lost too.  There are days when it all clicks in to place.  We’re quite lucky to witness those.  But those days are temporary.  Peace is temporary. He could tell you that.  Around every tree is a mound of dirt.  And that mound of dirt can suffocate the trunk.  And when you’re weak, like me, that tree seems like salvation.  A rope tied ’round those branches like a plan.  But even that’s not good enough because there’s still a journey on the other side.  I know that much is true.

And I know you feel like me.  In your online world because it’s safer than out your door.  It feels less lonely inside here.  In this digital place.  But it’s a trek to nothing and nowhere.  False freedom.  Distraction.  With only snippets of what we all truly need.  Just a taste of real life.

Talk is cheap. Meretricious.
Peace is everything.  Plausible.

So what are you going to do about it?  What am I?

Stronger (one shot)

Play this while you read this one shot:  

Light from the full moon snuck across the window pane and danced at Alejandra’s feet.  She slipped out of her black dress, left it in the shadows and sauntered over to him in stockinged feet.  Inaudible footsteps, like she was gliding across ice.  She circled him like a lioness.  Her green eyes locked with his blue.  He followed her gaze but didn’t dare move.

He was wearing an overcoat and shiny shoes. Black on black button down shirt and dress pants.  A bit mysterious looking.  Shrouded in shadows.  His much admired ombre tresses draped across the front of his wool coat.  The contrast of colors, blond against black, was striking, even in the darkened room.  He liked watching her watch him. Who was the hunter? Who was the prey?  Deep opened mouth breaths in and out. Receiving oxygen. Releasing toxins.  Mouth watering.

Alejandra licked her lips and studied Jared’s face.  The height of his cheekbones.  His deep-set eyes.  The slope of his nose. Her eyes lingered on his generous lower lip, fell across his chest and focused in on his bulging crotch.

In a moment, she was by his side.  Her lingerie the color of Onyx.  Lacey push-up bra, barely there panties and old-Hollywood garters.  Her alabaster skin belongs to nights like this.  Pale.  Lifeless.  Gorgeous.

Jared slipped two hands in to her hair, deep so he could cradle the back of her skull, then his pink lips were on her neck.  She sighed and he bit down gently.  His teeth in her skin felt like little keys unlocking the pressure in her spine.  She leaned in to him, weightless, as he teased her with his mouth.  One hand in her hair, the other exploring her body.  Pleasure points.  Pressure points.  He tasted her with soft lips. Nibbling beneath her chin. Sending waves of electricity through her.

He ran his thumb across her jawline then titled her head to the side so he could suckle that ticklish spot behind her right ear, lick down to her collarbone.  Her long hair dipped from her shoulders and fell down her back.  He undid her bra, let it fall to the floor as he cupped her breast with his hand and teased her nipple with a fingertip.  His other hand on the small of her back, holding her close to him.  So close that each movement was small though her body’s reaction to it grand.

Alejandra raised her chin to give Jared full access, shut her eyes softly and moaned when his mouth closed around her bare breast.  He played with her for a moment. Teasing.  Titilating. Temptress.  His fingertips softly marking a pathway across her belly, down her sides, up her spine and back in to her hair.  He pulled her in to him, closer still.  His pleasure apparent in needy breaths that escaped in to her ear.  He needed to be inside of her.

She removed his overcoat. It fell heavy at their feet.  Untucked his button-down shirt and one by one popped the buttons.  She lazily explored his body with fingertips, finger nails painted crimson, on his stomach, tracing the cuts of each muscle, the curve of his hip bones, the heat beneath his belt.  She felt him over his clothes.  His excitement warm and deliciously hard in her hand.  She stroked him softly before she dropped to her knees, five fingers on his buckle, two on his zipper.  Her eyes looking up in to his as he brushed her hair back from her face. She took her time pulling down his pants. He stepped out of them slowly.  Her breathing louder now, as his.

Silly printed socks and a black button up, his only clothes now.  She removed the socks.  Kissed his ankle.  Fluid movements.  Part of the dance. Snakes in the desert sand. Silky and smooth.  Dark and twisted. Alejandra settled on her knees in front of him, put one hand on his thick cock, and stroked slowly before wrapping her red lips around the tip.  She took every inch of him in to her mouth as she balanced on her knees.  Tasted his excitement and filled her throat with his lust.   Stroking and sucking and devouring.  He moaned and his eyes clamped shut.  His chin upward as he tried to compose himself.  She danced her tongue down the shaft.  He was on the edge.  He pulled her head back by her hair and she looked up at him again. His everything deep in her throat, eyes watering and desire racing.  She smiled, revealing white teeth, pink cock, between red lips.  His eyes glazed over as he watched her.  Her hair in a pony tail in his hand so he wouldn’t miss a lick as he watched her.

Jared watched over Alejandra as she blew him, admired the curve of her spine, the dip where it ended and her backside began.  The moldable flesh of her ass. Matching pillows of smooth skin. Skinny legs.  Stockinged feet.  He felt himself in the back of her throat.  God, she was good at this.  He threw his head back, let the pleasure take over and in a moment he was filling her throat with his seed, coating her tongue and slipping from her lips.

She was satisfied and he was satisfied but the night had only just begun.  The full moon was still high in the sky.  It was Jared’s turn now.  His turn to settle Alejandra on her back on top of the covers and taste her.  Provoke her.  Pleasure her.  Penetrate her.

She rose from the floor and sashayed to her bureau bare breasted, full panties and garter.  She had a glass of water there.  She drank it down, a few droplets escaped and slid from the side of her mouth down her chin.

“Messy.” Jared said as he licked the water from her face.  She placed the glass back on the dresser top and he wrapped his arms around her.  They kissed carefully for a few moments.  Quiet but deep throated.

He led her by the hand to their bed.  She climbed backwards on top of the sheets.  He crawled across the top of her.  Their eyes locked on one another’s until he buried his face between her legs.  His tongue inside her then his fingers  Her head on the pillow.  Her mouth opened wide.  Her moans loud and deep.  Feminine and animalistic.  He was ready for her again.  He climbed atop her.  Kissed her hard.  She licked her juices from his tongue as he thrust in to her and she could barely breathe.  Every inch that had been in her mouth lost deep within her.  He thrust hard.  Hitting her cervix with hasty lust.  His moans loud.  His mouth on hers then her breast then hovering by her neck as he pounded her pussy with a violence only two lovers can appreciate.  And then….she moaned a request….”harder….faster” she said.  And he tore her apart.  Banged the headboard in to the walls and rode her until he broke them both.  Simultaneous release.  Prehistoric howling before he collapsed on top of her.  Spent.