Marfleet walked briskly down the block, scouring the empty street for carriages that weren’t there. Cordelia followed at a near skip, hastily trying to keep up.

She had already informed him of Adah’s account, and he had recounted his conversation with Mrs. Bellingham. Apparently, Marfleet was able to get her to admit that she hadn’t seen fortune tellers in the forest that night, but she had been in Dulwich. Mrs. Bellingham had lied because she felt guilty for tricking her husband, and being the initial cause of his disappearance.

He had been brusque with her through the conversation, but she didn’t ask why. Now, he was looking for a carriage, because apparently he hadn’t told the one that dropped them off to wait.

Suddenly, Marfleet whirled on her. “What was that? I’m the detective here, not you.” His brown eyes were alight with pent-up frustration.

Cordelia took a step back from him, her eyebrows bunching together. Clearly the lack of carriages on this street was not improving his mood. “Excuse me?”

Marfleet narrowed his eyes and leaned in towards her. “Were you trying to upset Mrs. Bellingham? You shouldn’t talk like that to a grieving woman.”

He was upset that she had questioned Mrs. Bellingham’s word? Even after they’d found out she’d lied? That was what this was about? Cordelia stiffened defensively. “I didn’t know asking an important question was going to prompt her to insult me!” she retorted.

The man just shook his head. “You should have let me do the talking. No wonder you work with Mr. Blackburn; both of you are insufferable.”

“Really? You seemed quite pleased at first that I’d chosen to come along with you.”

“At first. But you’re apparently some sort of… actress. I can’t trust a word that comes out of that pretty little mouth,” he said matter-of-factly. His anger seemed to have dissipated as quickly as it arrived; now he only looked down his nose at her.

Cordelia didn’t bother holding back a snort. “I don’t think you—”

“Miss Cordelia Green?”

The two of them had been so caught up in their fuss that they completely missed the courier run up. He bent over, sucking in a breath.

Cordelia quickly composed herself and turned to the young man. “She is I.”

“I thought for a moment I’d missed you,” he said, regaining his breath. “A letter. From a Mr. Kent Blackburn.” He offered her a folded up paper.

“Thank you,” Cordelia said, taking the note. Marfleet stepped closer to read over her shoulder as she unfolded it.

Cordelia (NOT Marfleet),

Samuel Bellingham is found.

Do not tell anyone yet. He is like you.

Come to Dulwich at once.

Kent

“What does he mean, like you?” Marfleet asked, reaching for the paper.

Cordelia pulled away and tucked the note into her glove. “I have no idea.”

Marfleet gave her a disbelieving look. “I’ve never met a woman full of so many lies.”

Cordelia gave him a closed-lipped smile. “Then you haven’t met very many women. Now, we best be off to Dulwich.”

He shook his head, his brown curls shaking slightly, even from beneath his hat. “I’m telling Mrs. Bellingham. She deserves to know.”

He is like you. Mr. Bellingham was like her. Cordelia put a hand out in warning. “No! Don’t. What if he’s dead?”

Undeterred, Marfleet took a step towards the Bellingham house. “Wouldn’t your Kent have said? I say it would be most important to mention.”

She scoffed. “Perhaps not! Clearly Mr. Blackburn only just scrawled this note. And in a haste, I’d say. Don’t give her false hope based solely on the absence of words.” She hoped by appealing to his mistrust of Blackburn he would hold his tongue.

She saw in his face that her argument convinced him. To a degree. Sighing, Marfleet said, “I’m going to tell her he’s been found. Dead or alive, she’ll have to learn later.” He turned on his heal and walked away.

--

Previous chapter: https://theprose.com/post/322199/9-the-maid-speaks

Next chapter: https://theprose.com/post/323460/11-cottage-in-the-woods

"It's so different than when I was growing up."

I remember those words coming from my parents and grandparents mouths. Now they're coming from mine. Before I explain my view let me first say that I support any community that strengthens peoples confidence and encourages them to be who they are and to safely explore the different sides of themselves without judgment.

The gay/stragiht alliances were beginning to form when I was in highschool, people were either straight, gay or bi-sexual. While I don't understand all the different categories and sub-categories I'll call you whatever name you want to be called. I would have trouble calling an individual "them" however, not to be disrespectful simply because I'm used to calling a person "he" or "she". I don't care if you identify as one or the other or both or neither and hope that no one takes offense to being called "he" or "she" or just by their name.

When I was growing up the main catchphrase was "don't label me" now it seems the label can't be specific enough. It's hard for me to understand why someone would want to build such a small box to squeeze into. To me it seems constricting and needlessly complicated.

It makes me worry that people are finding a sort of false comfort in these specific labels. As humans we spend a lot of time trying to fit in while trying to find out who we are. Sometimes it feels like people are holding up these labels to the world like a Walgreens receipts, shouting, "Look, I found it, this one, it's me, this is who I am!" But what they don't understand in that moment is that, that is where the journey begins, not where it ends. You grow, you change and that's a HUGE part of the beauty of life.

When I was in my late teens/early twenties my parents were warning me about the permanency of tattoos. Now parents are warning about the permanency of using hormones and gender re-assignment surgeries. Children as young as kindergarten are being labeled as "transgender". Why are we expecting children to label themselves as anything but children? To me that is going too far. Not because I am against transgender but because I am against labeling a child. The whole point of freedom is to decide for yourself who and what you are. And there's certainly plenty of time to do it.

I think they've gone too far.

Not about the rights issues or anything like that, but all the subcategories, the sub-subcategories, the whittling down what people are into smaller and smaller groups.

It's getting to the point of absurdity. That + after LGBTQ... It represents about fifteen to twenty other letters.

What is the point? What's the point of even STATING that someone's asexual? All that means is, they aren't interested in sex with anyone. That's not homosexual, heterosexual, in fact, it shouldn't have any impact on someone's life.

There's certainly no stigma attached to someone who isn't interested in getting a girl/boyfriend, but that's the least of the issues with it.

The more you isolate, categorise and separate people, the more alienated they'll feel. It's counterproductive. What's wrong with just having everyone who's doesn't quite fall into the standard LGBTs just take the Queer and have done with it?

And before anyone complains... I'm gay. But I'm 52 so all this nonsense only started in recent years from my perspective.

Broken again...

My silk strings

destroyed by the Wind,

my efforts have sinned.

My creativity-web hasn't caught any wings.

I try again.

More effort- work under deadly Rain.

Lightning,

Thunder,

Wind

and Rain

create destruction

and destroy my creation.

But I have poison in my vein

and I try again.

Make a cobweb

infested with water drops,

thousands of mirrors reflect

a spider dying of hope within a lonely copse.

String becomes entangled in my legs,

eight legs-

but only one brain...

At last...

My cobweb is broken, again.

I leave this world and accept what death brings.

Finally, I receive my wings.

Amen.

Lizzy stands on my keyboard,

Bored.

Stormy bites the hand,

That feeds her.

Mercy rests at my feet,

Waitin’ for treats.

Joanna Newsom’s "Sapokanikan"

Plays in the background.

Two coffee cups into the morning,

I’m ready to write

Right.

About time.

Literally.

Figuratively.

Ready to write:

Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap …

The night's silver shadows

Bring pain to my heart.

While I lie in bed lonely,

I watch their dance start.

The music that plays

Is your whispered name,

And it brings tears to my eyes

That fall softly in shame.

Then, the night blends together

And the shadows do too.

While they dance to the music

I'm reminded of you.

We were the shadows

And love was the night.

We'd blend gently together

And the feeling was right.

Now you are not here

But I'm waiting for you.

While my heart sways to our music,

The shadows dance too.

Full of curiosity,

Minds pretty inquisitive.

So many questions,

They ask and wonder

Ponder to & fro...

Little ones ever thinking

They want and need to know....

Why is the world round?

What happens if I swallow a seed?

Can I have another piece of candy?

They are full of energy, life

And never want to stop moving.

Their parents most beloved treasure.

A blessing to behold forever,

For all eternity/moments of living.

I don't know if you all know this, but I am currently a full time addictions counselor, a full time graduate student working on my MBA, and apparently a full time sucky friend, daughter, sister, aunt, cousin, niece, and kitty Mom. I do my best to give 110% to everyone and everything, but I am only one person! Please know that I do not ignore people or miss things on purpose! Sometimes, like now, I just have too many irons in the fire! I don't even have time for me 98% of the time! Some day my life may calm down, but it wasn't today, and honestly, tomorrow doesn't look good either! I am beginning to feel as if I am disappearing behind everything I have to do, and all I hear about is what I missed or messed up! Cut me some slack folks! As much as I admire Wonder Woman, I am not her! Sometimes I totally suck! I know this! You don't have to continuously tell me!

†

I’m Jesus, see-

I’ve left my kingdom 

When you called me

To save you...

To carry the sin

You have kept within 

I’m Jesus, see-

I came down from heaven

To set you free

But when I lifted my eyes

To your heavenly face

You captured my divinity

Into your green crystal moon

And left me to swim and sink

Swim-and-Sink 

Into your ocean of sin

I drank your ocean

And I’ve become- 

The master of sin!

But all I got from

Your ocean is--

Loaves-and-fish

Moons-and-rivers

Written on my heart

Ringing in my ears

Not enough to feed my

Hunger and selfishness

Your voice is a crown of thorns

Inside of my head

Poking my thoughts out

To bleed silent ink

Your silence is a loud whip

Falling on my naked heart

And your breeze is my shadow

You made my mother

Cry and grief too

Wearing the dark dress

Knelt to the cross

At the punishment hills  

In aches and sorrow

When death dwelt my body

For I’m a sinner

I’m Jesus, see-

The scar you've gifted me–

Between my ribs

Still bleeding--

Bleeding silent ink 

Do you still have a doubt

That I’m Jesus?

Do you still have a doubt

That I’ve become...

The master of sin?

Here...

Reach my hands

And touch the scars

See my blood

Flowing~ in your name

Between my fingertips

And the cross lines

The cross that you gave me

To carry on my heart

The cross that you gave me

To write off my debts

For I am...

The Master of Sin.

                                                                   †

        -Taste my voice and touch my soul, and you shall feel my eternity within you- 

#JesusIsSinner #LoveIsSin #I’mAsinner #FreeSpirit #RebelliousThoughts  

April-2017