They did not know where they arrived, the landscape was strange and different. The last days was mixed up as the food on the lifeboat had been gone for quite a good while when they finally reached this shore.
Maybe they where in the afterlife, he had no idea and neither had Marc that was with him in the lifeboat. Marc was one of the sailors on the ship that he was traveling with, hunting for inspiration to write new rhymes about ancient mariners.
Now in this shipwrecked state he somehow had saved pen and paper. So important for him,...
The summer was new, the grass was having that wet green quality when it is the first time in a long while the sun have reached it. It is happiness distilled.
They where moving in together, this was the first spring of the rest of their life. It was their love that made them set the mirror down on the grass and frolic in the spring.
Lifes sadness had not yet reached them, they did not know that this spring of love would turn into a winter of despair as they would argue the content of their lifes but somehow...
I was nearly there. The red top of the lighthouse was within my grasp. Just a few more steps and I would be in a place my father had talked about during many a bedtime story.
Pride emanated from him as he used to whisper to me about the foreign vessels that he was witness to on the shore.
I remember shivers radiating through my skin as he once described the stolen ship that had been taken over by the French pirates. Shaving so close to the rocks had caused much of the treasure to fall overboard into the sea...
What had just happened? He tried to focus on where he was but his head was aching. Why wasn't she with him?
Vivid images started to flash into his head and his limbs tingled with the sensation of cold.
The boat. It was gone and it had angrily and unjustly taken her with it. There was nothing that he could have done - or was there?
As he had grasped her wrist with all the strength in his body, he had looked into her blue frightened eyes. Suddenly his hold on her had weakened and she fell down into the...
He ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet.
"Mummy, Mummy!" he yelled, his face flushed and eyes gleaming with excitement.
"What is it, sweetheart?" I asked, my heart in my mouth, fearing the worst.
Surely nothing terrible had happened in those few short minutes since I'd turned my back and left him to his own devices?
Unconsciously scanning his body for weeping wounds, gaping gashes or odd shaped bones like a Men in Black zapper I began to relax.
"What's happened now?" I said, smiling at my golden child.
"Mummy, I rode up the hill...
The maple leaves will change and fall with a certain grace – November will begin. The world outside my window will be shades of red and gold. Snow, a few days later, gracing the last few leaves on the branches. My mind will wander to that one autumn, the last time I ever saw that face. The muscular arms without tattoos; brown hair, blue eyes. It was my birthday. The autumn before that I spent the night at his downtown apartment. Same brown hair and blue eyes, tattoo-less arms. Genuine smile and honest words. This autumn will not be like...
I saw this gate among his Facebook photos. I long to live behind it with him. This Louisiana town was ready for us, I thought, ready for the young love, and the wild spirits we both possessed. He still visits every year; I, on the other hand, have never seen what surrounds this gate, never have I seen what lies behind it. To me, this gate is a symbol for what my life was supposed to be; a life far south of New York. A life in New Orleans. Something in my head always tells me that there is a...
The disco ball was turning. We danced below it, it's light swirling in a million little dots of light. soft music guided us around. His tuxedo creased slightly where my hand rested on his shoulder. My dress had cost a fortune, and it was a little hard to move, but it was so worth it. him beaming down at me lit up the room. my heart skipped a beat as he squeezed my hand slightly as we careened gracefully around other couples. i had wondered why they bothered with a disco ball when strobe lights were the last word in...
Lola was a name that grated on my ears. Most people considered it sonorous and calming, but after my teenage years, fraught with rebellion, Lola was a name uttered in exasperation rather than cooed.
THat is why I insisted Spencer call me Lara. It was a close sound so that I would still answer to it, but distant enough from my childhood that I could free myself from my past mistakes. He didn't seem to care either way. Lola, Lara, both names meant love to him and loving me was all he knew to do.
He found me in the...
She’d never thought of herself as pretty. She was far too awkward for that, too uncomfortable in her own skin, too shy and retiring. Her features, if they drew comment (which in itself was rare) were declared unusual and unsettling. It was generally agreed that her eyes were too hooded and their shade too light. Half blind, they had a tendency to fix overly long upon you, after which they slowly fought to read and absorb your every detail, drinking you in. Defying social conventions, ignoring the boundaries of an individual’s space, their precious circle, they upset rather than pleased....