Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Three Words To Say It All

The stars are incredible tonight, Catyana thought as she slipped her hand into Joshua's.

Her day, full of unhappy customers screaming, "I just want my money!" as they fought in line to turn in their Christmas returns first, had become ugly.

As ambitious as she was, and what her feelings about Joshua were, she just couldn't bring herself to say those three words she knew he longed to hear.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Mermaid Lagoon

This is a story that I wrote just for a set of students and their teacher (a friend of mine), posted on Mud Job 66... The students were told to write about a Mermaid named Alisa, Eben and his Wife Martha, a placed Called Gull Cove and the year 1876. Hope you all enjoy - CJT

She was swimming in the Sea; the sun just above the surface touched the scales on her fins and made them sparkles like the rings of Saturn seen through the telescope.

 Eben a sailor, man in his prime, dropped the net over the side of his boat, tuna again today, he thought.

 They said that this place, a reef near the island of Gull cove was haunted by a beauty, the Mermaid Lagoon, a place where a beautiful creature emerged from the water singing a beautiful tune, but when angered could cause the tempest to which only one other could match, he being King Triton.

 Always interested in the curious fold that so easily entertained her, Alisa, the mermaid, stayed at the place they called Mermaid Lagoon. Beautiful sailor faces kept her occupied until they angered her with excuses of stories about wives, children, and homes away from the Sea.

 The net drifted lower and lower into the calm waves and slowly settled waiting to catch the fish within its grasp. Alisa hadn’t seen the net, being too busy admiring the boat and sailors aboard it.

 “Let’s bring ‘er in boys.” Eben shouted to the crew, taking hold of the net full of fish.

 The men heaved until exhaustion was about to set in, then the net crested the rail of the boat.

 “What’s this?” Eben exclaimed for caught within the net’s grasp was Alisa, the mermaid. Her wet black shining hair, waist length covered her torso and glistening scales almost rainbow bright glittered in the sun.

 Angered that she had been caught, and not on her own terms, she began thrashing to get loose. The sailors laughed which only angered her further. “Let me out!” She screeched, like listening to nails on a chalkboard.

 “Only if you’ll sing!” One crewman bellowed, followed by a chorus of whoops and hollers.

 Alisa began to sing, a voice like warm honey spreading to all their hearts. So this was the mermaid’s siren, Eben thought. Pictures entered his mind of Alisa’s sad intrigue with the sailors of the past and how they always spoke of leaving. He suddenly realized, if we don’t find a way to leave, it will only come back to haunt us.

 Trying to rid his mind of Alisa’s beautiful pictures, he thought of Martha, his wonderful wife, his son James, born in 1876, and his home, overlooking the harbor.

 Unconsciously, Eben began singing to himself. Without knowing the crew had turned to him and was no longer listening to Alisa, whose voice had faded into silence. When Eben’s song was finished, Alisa’s face flashed a shade of angry that was only seen before death.

 “You, YOU…” She screeched, “You have taken from me the only joy today!”

 “Tie her securely,” he told his crew, “she’s coming back with us. There will be no telling King Triton to destroy us, you evil creature!” The crew did as they were told and as they sailed home, they watched with horrid fascination as the sun slowly dried Alisa until lack of seawater caused her to die.

 The sailors still claim to have heard the mermaid’s siren as they sailed through Mermaid Lagoon, but no one’s ever brought back proof of their existence except Eben who brought the body of Alisa home to Martha, and that night Martha made a mermaid stew. 

Thursday, September 24, 2009

My Last Memory

The wind rushing across my face reminds me of those finishing touches, the brush of makeup before the show. A ruffle of my dress, the one I wore in my last performance, flares in the breeze.

Memories from Twenty years before, before I had children, before Max, before this wasted life.

I woke up this morning and decided it was the perfect day, my face glowed and the lines of my last great performance came tumbling out of my mouth.

In the bathroom, getting ready, I took one or was it two too many Xanex, or was it Valium, I never remember what the doc gives me anymore.

I barely remembered the drive, the climb, and the walk up to the edge of the cliff, mostly thinking, Perfect, rocks below- great for the sound, "Hurry up," I hear on the wind, I see the house lights dim, the curtain goes up, "You're on..." as I take my final step forward into the spotlight.


Her passion had been squashed, tortured, and finally burned at the stake with her by her fellow peers.

Seeking the direction her mind was trying to find, she found herself at first walking through the flames of hell, the shadow and smoke then sifting through ash she came forth.

The journey was coming to an end and she could feel the power gathering within.

As the new High Priestess was reborn the thoughts came to mind- make them pay, burn them, make them want to take it all back.

I sent each of my worthless peers to hell on a burning pyre of fire.

A sacrifice for Death.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Two Halves of Myself (Part 2)

Questions and answers, different and similar, close but not close enough, doubt spreads like a poison through my thoughts and memories.

Was I a liar when I wrote that Biography in 8th grade… could I have continued to lie to my children when asked who my birth father was?

More questions go unanswered in the new chapter of my life mixed with the old.

While crying today I’m told, “I’m always here for you, I always loved you, I sent money that was returned, I made calls that went nowhere, but always knew someday you’d call.”

The poison is thickening, gravy on a warm stove, covering all my thoughts and memories, how do I go back and ask my mother, my safety, what’s the truth now.

Madness sears my eyes with treacherous tears, anger wanting to lash out at what was my only safeguard as I say goodbye to the man at the airport, the man that once was my father.

An Offering For Death

The priestess looked up at her mentor, huge tears rolling down her cheeks. Wrong, wrong again the ceremonial spells were completed correctly as far as she was told but still something was off key. This was the 5th time this week she'd been asked to prepare part of the ceremonies for the blood sacrifice to install a new high priestess. The other priestesses made themselves conveniently busy, "If you are to become High Priestess, you must move forward in your work, feel the power within and capture it." the elderly priest, my mentor, sharply whispered to me.

"How would you prepare it?" I blatently asked before the velocity of what my mouth just said hit me. My mentor just shook his head and looked past me then hurried away.

Later, as I lay upon my straw mattress quietly rubbing flea bites, the realization of what my mentor had said, "If YOU are to become High Priestess..." He knows, he must know. Moving ever so quietly I pulled myself out of bed and went down the corridor to the ceremonial room. I entered, feeling the gooseflesh appear where the brisk shadow touched my naked youthful body.

I began preparing for the blood sacrifices just as I had seen the priests do it dozens of times, making sure to follow each step properly. The breeze touched me again and I looked to the window barely open. I pushed the wooden shutters outward and looked out just intime to see the eclispe billowing in the sky. Shocked at such revelation, I turned sharply away catching my wrist on the old glass that used to cover the window. I watched as if in slow motion as drop after drop dripped into my concocted bowl for the ceremony.

I watched in fascination as smoke rose from the bowl, creating a shadow covering everything, I was loosing myself. I felt the fire before I saw the flames that surrounded me. Nothing was burning around me, only myself. I burned there, next to the alter until all that was left was my soul in a pile of ash. 

"Arise and be Reborn." a voice whispered. I languished through the ash until I was once again a being standing on my feet. Opening my eyes I saw I was surrounded by Priests, my mentor one of them.

"Oh God the Merciful, we thank thee for this new High Priestess." They began to chant.

I felt fire in my closed hand. Not one, except my mentor, felt the flames of destruction as I burned them on flaming pyres. All offerings for Death.

Monday, September 21, 2009

I Wouldn't Miss A Meal

My adrenaline started pumping, making my heart race.

I could tell by the tracks and sign on the ground that I was getting close.

Her smell sat on the wind like a strange perfume, foot prints disturbed the dirt showing she was tired, leaves crushed by her endless knowledge of pursuit.

I stalked quietly, knowing my target was only yards away, waiting expectantly for her predator to find her, I could feel her fear.

I closed in, my knife held expertly in my hand, slowing I reached forward and grabbed her hair from behind and before she could even scream, blood was pouring from her throat.

I bent forward and lapped up every scarlet drop until she was entirely drained, a fabulous supper.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Skinned Knuckles

This post was brought about by a 6S member who gave us the Katlitz Challenge - write the most embarrasing thing that happended to you in 6 Sentences.

My mom had a new mountain bike (I wasn't supposed to ride), isn't that how it always goes? I was riding it home from school I think I was 13. We didn't live too far, just far enough that the two mile bus pickup line was 2 houses up from me, they still wouldn't let me ride the bus. Part of the bike ride was this huge hill that was about halfway and on my way home I had to ride/walk all the way up it. This is what I remember, topping out and heading on home, then blank... that's right, blank. I think I fell asleep "at the wheel" if you will because I remember waking up on the back of a parked car, knuckles skinned and bleeding and some nasty bruises on my face and upper body... I RODE INTO A PARKED CAR!

Friday, September 18, 2009

Two halves of myself

I've spent years trying to decide between two halves of myself. The first half that tells me to listen to my mother, the second half to find out for myself.

On the right hand, I grew up being told that he never cared, never loved, not once and not ever- no child support, no cards, no phone calls and after I turned eight, no more "other" family visits with the "other" Grandparents.

On the left, I always thought, what was he really like, does he really not care, what would he say if he knew?

Now twenty years later, I found a number and called, asked for a man I've never really known. After hours and weeks of phone conversations, I meet him at the airport, the man that once was my father.

The Chains That Bind

I went to sleep only to wake up in a dream that I knew was too real to be a dream. It was dark and the stars shone overhead. Looking down I noticed that I was walking the edge of a cliff. I followed the edge and gradually found it was sloping downward toward the water below while part of the cliff still loomed above. As I walked I wondered at where my feet were guiding me. A cave came out of nowhere almost unseen; I would have missed it completely if I hadn't stumbled and reached out to stop the fall.

I entered the cave walking with my hand guiding me along the unseen edge. I could hear the faint drip dripping of water coming from further within. Quickly I awoke. My legs aching I wondered at where I had been.

The next few nights that followed the same thing, I followed the trail down the cliff face and into the cave, each night going a little further tracing with my mind my path deep within.

A family reunion to a place I had never been gave me plenty of time to think about my dream and ponder its’ meaning. Without consciously knowing what I was doing, I found myself walking along a cliff face, the lake water splashing the edge at what seemed like miles below. My mind taking over I wandered down the path and turned into the cave I knew was waiting for me. Listening to the drip dripping like in my dream I felt the rough edge of the cave wall and followed my mental path into the unknown.

As I continued I found where my dreams had left me and I knew I was on my own. I heard something calling to me telling me to come in. I couldn't turn back even though my mind started screaming, "Don't go!" I heard the singing before I saw the light, a beautiful voice, a language I've never heard. A hole in the roof showed the stars bright above, the light of the moon seemed to fill the cavern lighting everything within including a being. Wrapped in chains, held to the ground, a demon's star did surround. He looked at me the light on his face, horrified I saw the scars that showed his lips sewn shut. His eyes were flames wrapped in the moon, like looking deep into a soul. He sang to me then like a whisper I heard, “Please let me touch you. You know you want to.”

I couldn't resist my body moved toward him like a magnet. His wings surrounded me as he brought me in. I could feel the cold chains surrounding him and the warmth of his wings, hands and body. He looked in my eyes, turned my head and sang / whispered, "I thank you."

I felt the sting of his bite on my neck and the euphoric song whispered in my heart. The flames of hell developed me and when I awoke I was the one bound in chains, surrounded by the demon's star.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

A Desperate Try

Man's best friend looked me in the eye and pleaded, just one more day. I hold his head as he drifts away and think to myself, what's one more day?

His owner came in, his excuses thin, and we took him anyway.

Just one more day that people came in and walked on by. Not a glance, not a nod, only the look back to whisper goodbye.

Just one more day, you seemed to cry, it was one more day- a new owner to find, just one more day that didn't come, THAT one more day I couldn't find.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

The Unspoken Sign

The air stank of war and hatred. The letter had come giving us all the notice that we were being attacked by the Persians. Us, the Spartans, the favored of Ares. Who would think of such a thing? My beautfiul wife handed me the hankie she always gives me when it comes time to leave, a come home token, the silent and unspoken sign of love, honor, and power. I pulled my thick cloak around me, turned and didn't look back as I drifted into the folds of warriors.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

The Taste of Fear

I've never wanted a war so bad, I could taste the fear of new soldiers on my tongue.

"Ares," Zues kept asking, "why do you cause such pain and discontent?"

My answer always the same, "War, it's Euphoric, Zues, Like a drug i can't get enough of- you of all the Gods should understand with your having to bang every beautiful mortal woman you can find."

Its been too long since i've felt it, the hartred boiling in my veins, the excitment rushing in my head, and the taste of fear on my tongue. I stand ready amongst the men on the winning side waiting for the battle cry, the one that says "Fight this war and win!"

Cutting and slashing, blocking and punching, the fear in their eyes as I take off their head or spew their guts all over the ground with my sword, the stentch of death everywhere, RED- the color of home, the color of blood, the color of everything I now see and of everything I hold most dear.

Sunday, September 13, 2009


The wolves were circling their prey, analyzing everything about it- which way it will run, how it might fight back, where it's strengths lie. The man, lost, couldn't hear the soft footfalls of his enemy keeping pace. The hair on the back of his neck stood and he quickly took stock of his surroundings; nothing was recognizable from the same looking Quaken Aspen trees, to the same small and large pines, and to the ground littered with lava rock, dirt, and fallen leaves. The leader of the pack gave a twitch to his tail, the signal to wait a little longer, their target was tiring. When the attack came, the alpha was first, springing lightly he pounced on the man from behind, the second from the side. As the third signaled the rest of the pack with his eerie howl, a blood curdling scream escaped the man's bloody lips echoing throught the trees.

Friday, September 11, 2009

No Turning Back

This post is based on Fiction Friday's idea: Your character is determined to do something they know to be a mistake.

"Honey, have some fun on your business trip, okay?" Just don't come home stupid and grouchy.
"I promise I'll try, dear." he drug out dear too long. Does he suspect? Smile quickly. "What will you be doing, you know, with the kids gone to my mom's for another week?"
"Oh, nothing too exciting." Think, think, think! You knew this time was coming. Think Dammit. "I think I might go shopping with some friends in Vegas."
"That sounds great! Don't do anything crazy." Whew. I'm not caught... yet. I have so much to do before I go and- Why is he stalling?
"Do you have everything?"
"Oh, yes. It's just- It's just I'm going to miss you." Oh great. Now he's giving me the guilt trip.
"I'll miss you, too, honey." Smile pretty, give hugs. BE GENUINE! Oh, just a few more hours and I'll be with Scott, not Jim. Sigh.

Get packing, he's finally gone. What dress should I pack to wear for tonight? I have that pretty black cocktail that Jim says I always look so pretty in. Jim! Am I sure I really want to do this? If Jim finds out- thats 25 years down the drain. He'll be so devastated. I can't, I won't se that look on his face. Deep breath. I won't see that look because... I won't tell him. I'll buy a new dress once I get to Vegas. There, no more thoughts of Jim for the rest of the week. Scott and I will be so happy.
The phone's ringing. Where is it? Under the couch cushion. "Hello?"
"Susan, it's me. Who's going with you to Vegas?" This is so wrong.
"Oh, probably Karen and Shannon, why hun?" This is going to be a mistake.
"Okay, I just don't want you going alone."
"I promise Jim, I won't be alone."
"Alright, I love you."
"I love you too." Click. What am I thinking? Having an affair with Jim's best friend. It's so exciting. I'm going. No turning back!

"Scott, hey it's Jim."
"Jim! Well, is she taking the bait?"
"Perfectly, just make sure you get the pictures I need."
"Sure thing."
"I've got to get out of this marriage."
"Yeah, how long have you been with that other gal?"
"Five years now. She's got 2 kids."
"Wow. I can't believe you've kept it from Susan all this time."
"I know. Susan's probably beating herself up about this. Probably thinking its a mistake, but to damn determined to not go through with it."
"Well, at least I'll have a blast this week."
"Just make sure she does, too."

Wednesday, September 9, 2009


I tied a knot and saw it held.
My pony couldn't move
And it fought like hell.

Death's Angel

3ww Disarm, Engage, Mayhem

Death's Angel descended upon me while I was lost in the forest hunting. I felt his soft velvet feathers brush my mind as he began to disarm my mental blocks. He continued to dig until he finally found my core and began causing mayhem inside me. I fought with everything in me to get him out, but he was too strong. The good fighting the evil. I was his servant- he my king. In time when he was finished he engaged my inner darkness giving me the opportunity to grow my own black wings of death.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Angel's Song

The first time he came to me, it felt like a dream. Each time, I awoke in the middle of the night with light surrounding me. I never said a word. I was told why he was there. He was to strengthen my soul before the time came. I was to have a son, his son, the Lord of Hosts. "Mary," he whispered in my mind, "my beautiful Mary." As he held me, he showed me visions of times to come, then as each morning came he left me.

The days in between his visits were dreary. Almost like they didn't exist. Waiting for the next blissful moment to come when I would wake up and see his Angel face, and feel his strong arms surround me.

After a handful of visits and a long time waiting, my dreams came true. He came to me in his full might. Picked me up from the bed and held me tight, caressing my arms and back. He made love to me, a passion unseen. So tender and so overpowering together. As we lay tangled together in the sheets, I looked up at him. He looked back. The Angel's face no longer so good it hurt to look at. Joseph came to my mind. What would I tell him? What would I say? I turned to my lover and opened my mouth. He put his finger on my lips and whispered to my mind, "Don't speak, words will only steal the moment." I layed my head against his shoulder and he held me until I fell asleep.


I can't believe they said that to me! I can't believe they would do that! Tears streaming down my face, the anger rushing out. I pound the steering wheel with my closed fists while I'm driving. I feel the anxiety flowing over, my throat closing, my head pounding. I try to pull over to the side of the road as I feel the panick attack hit.

Saturday, September 5, 2009


I look for the book and unable to find, I turn to the dusty old cabinet and look for the index card. The one that might tell me exactly where the book is I'm looking for. After hours of digging something screams, "You've found it!" yes the card I was looking for. I go for the kill but the book isn't there. Its already been checked out...

Friday, September 4, 2009

The Forgotten

They sit on our shelves,
On coffee tables, and nightstands.
Collecting dust, turning yellow,
Usually forgotten.

Without them we live our lives
Day by day with little or no adventure;
Little or no horror (except on the news);
Little or no romance
(Only what significant others provide);
Cleaning house, watching children,
Working a meaningless job.

You see one lying untouched,
Aged corners bent, covered in Dust.
You pick it up.

Reverently you open the cover.
Turning the pages, you enter
Into the fantastic life that now awaits;
Dashing heros, ancient wars,
Vampire horror, and steamy romance.

Curled up on the sofa
You leave yours behind
And startup anew.
Oh, what a book can do.

Thursday, September 3, 2009


The music blares from the campsite just down from us. A party of drunk singers sing along with the cassette tape in the stereo of their truck. At the end of the song we hear, "Bon Jovi Rocks!"


My little brother smiles back at me with black teet and says, "Try some." I take a piece and pop it into my mouth, the strong taste hits me and I gag, never to eat licorice again.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

My Stallion

The luster shown on his beautful coat, that gorgeous black on black. A rarity in any black horse. Most black horses aren't truly black, ya know. They just are dark brown with some black. This was a true black horse. What a beast! Thoroughbred racing was my specialty. I trained some of the best of my time. Strong legs and hips, rippling muscles and braided mane. The tack and racing saddle bright red for his special day. It was his first race, ya know.

The crowd loud and excited! Bets being placed at the counters and behind the stands as well. Every one against my Black Beauty, my stallion.

The shot! The Gates! They're off! The jockies hoding back and re-aligning against the rail. No one saw the glare in his eyes. The look of death to any horse who thinks to beat him, my beauty, my stallion. Weaving in and out, around each horse. Now he's neck and neck with the leader. The crowds are hushed waiting, watching, not seeing. The leading horse seeing the threat of the other uses his last ounce of energy and speed but beauty is faster! He's taking over! A Neck, thats how much he won! My Stallion, my black beauty! Thirty to one odds and he won! He won!

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

The Take-Over

"It was like I never slept that night if I recall. It was a wrong number that started it, the telephone ringing three times in the dead of night. I turned over and answered not one, not two, but three wrong number phone calls.
'Look,' I said frustrated at the forth time, 'MY NUMBER IS-' and thats as far as I got.
'Jessica Thomas?' A woman on the other line.
'Yes, Who is this?' Curious now.
'We need you right away! Its started happening- the take-over.'
'Who is it?' I asked.
'China, they started landing planes. They're asking for you.'
'It's because I didn't report to the base, isn't it?' Fear coming across like an explosion.
'Partly, but you were one of the easier ones to find.'
'Oh my God! What do I do?'
'Run. Run for your life.'
Click. That was it. That's Why we live here now."
"In this cave, Grandma?"
"Yep in this cave."


The lucid smoke filly smy lungs as I wait for the release in my mind. Stress goes away - calm happiness returns and once again I'm me. Just Me. Until all that's left of my cigarette is ash.


the constant diress of life - the I can't, I won't, I have to, I must... Why can't we be programmed to commit suicide or live a happy life?