Seasons Greetings
The dishes overflowed. The rug was a crumpled mass, an unintentional booby trap. The soup was half finished, and the pot was boiling over.
Hastily, I scrambled to the stove and shut it off. While he sprawled himself over the couch, beer in hand. The TV mindlessly babbled as he watched it without regard to the hot mess around us.
"David, honey, could I have some help here?"
"Ah, just do it, yerself, ya old hag!" He waved an uncaring hand at me. Slowly, I brought myself back to work. I washed the chipped tea cup as I wondered where the charming man I once knew went. The yellow mustard went back into the cupboard as my heart sunk.
"He was never that person," a small voice in my head hissed. "He knows you love him too much to complain as you're neck up in junk!"
Silent years fell as I sat by the window of our bedroom. Another Christmas came and left with poisoning isolation.
My family seemed so far away, and my friends weren't able to contact me anymore.
No more cherries I got to pick from bushes in the country. No playing in the tennis courts. No putting on fluffy socks as my brother and I raced across tile floors.
Now, my life was a shadow of what it once was. It is filled with creaky wooden planks and a deadbeat.
The only joy I could get was from the neighbors' Christmas lights. Oh, how beautiful they were flickering crimson and green.
Eventually, night would fall, and I had to tear my eyes away from the lights.
As I slept, a strange thought entered my mind. I should leave. Go home for Christmas. Slowly, I crawled out of bed. I packed a bag long into the night. Once the work was done, I went back to sleep, waiting for the morning.
Christmas morning. I tentatively crept down the stairs. Pulling my backpack on, I skidded toward the door.
The bump of my shoulder on the shelt shocked my soul out of my body. Everything froze as his angry footsteps came closer. Louder. And louder. My heartbeat stopped.
"What the HELL are you doing!?" His ranting was cut short when he saw the backpack. My breath was caught in my throat.
"Are you leaving me," he shouted.
"No! No! I just wanted to go home for Christmas please—"
I don't remember anything after that. I huddled myself in the corner. He had been gone for hours, but it still felt as if he was right beside me.
Between sobs, one thought entered my mind.
His demise would be mine.
I'm not sure where I got the idea of how he would die. Maybe I wanted him to suffer the way I have for four years. Maybe it was inspiration from the pranks my brother pulled on each other in the brighter days of my youth.
Whatever the idea came from. I worked tirelessly. Tying and taping. Screwing and measuring. Then all I had to do was wait. Patiently wait like a predator for their prey.
Soon the prey did come. Staggering drunk, per usual. I faked washing dishes waiting for the inevitable tug.
And it came.
He went flying and flailing. His voice pierced my ears. Still, a smile plastered my face.
Now he knew what agony felt like.
I waited for silence. His breathing was ragged as I walked over to him.
The look on his face— Ah hah ha! Oh how I've waited for this.
I could only smile as his breathing cut short.
As I stood over his motionless form, the trails of blood that swarmed out of his body filled me with euphoria.
My lips curved into a small smile as I addressed him.
"Merry Christmas, honey," I said. He gave no reply— of course, he couldn't. What was I thinking? I giggled at my own foolishness.
"I wish my gift was as special as yours," I continued. "After all, I've got exactly what I wanted."
I’ve Never Seen a Storm this Beautiful
In the aftermath of nuclear war, debris settled in the sky. Blackening the Sky, no sun shining through. Me and my wife often have to venture out, her hand tightly clutching mine. As we walk barely able to see what's in front of us. We see a storm brewing and find shelter. My wife has an intense fear of thunder, but I learned to love these storms. Because when lighting flashes, it is the only time I can see my Wife's face clearly. Today as we are hiding again, I find myself wishing for this storm to never end.
Time’s Silent Dance
Born to this world's stage,
Innocence and wonder bloom,
Life's first steps taken.
Youth's fervent embrace,
Dreams like stars in boundless skies,
Time's tapestry weaves.
Midlife's sunlit path,
Responsibilities weigh,
Purpose carved in stone.
Autumn leaves descend,
Reflection in fading light,
Age's wisdom gained.
Twilight whispers soft,
Curtain falls, yet spirit soars,
Cycle finds its close.
A Fall Meal
The pot was boiling over, but right now, that was the least of her concerns.
Her chest stilled. A chill traveled up her spine. The light above her head flickered, and the sound of crickets outside died out.
She couldn't bring herself to move; her eyes frozen on the man in front of her.
He was in her kitchen.
The Reaper, as the recent newspaper had called him.
He was in her house. In her kitchen. Right in front of her.
A small breath escaped her as the glint of something shiny caught her eye.
Her gaze shifted from a pale mask down to a long, silver knife. She could almost hear the dripping of the crimson liquid that coated it. How many lives had it taken? How many more would it steal?
"I thought I said no more blood in the house," she finally spoke, a snapping tone in her voice.
He didn't respond, but disappeared behind a wall while she turned to tend to the overfilling pot.
"And stop sneaking up on me," she called out, her back facing where he had been standing moments ago.
The loud sound of something heavy being dropped caused her to twist around.
A large, black bag now lay at her feet. The Reaper stood above it, watching ruby blood leak out a tear in the side of the material.
She smiled a wicked grin and grabbed the blade from his hand.
"Dinner's almost ready. Help me carve the meat, darling."
Force of Nature
Rain and wind could do little to hide the beauty that was up above.
Powerful white streaks flashed across the obsidian sky; striking in mesmerizing positions and captivating all who were lucky enough to be watching.
But with beauty comes pain, and the land below was struck and burnt with hot tendrils of power. To underestimate its power was to taunt Death.
How it must feel to be anyone else... not knowing that these massive bolts were not what they seemed.
Lightening was not just a force of nature, but the wings of an ancient creature.
Strength
Fast as lighting
Strong as lighting
Hot as lighting
The energy of lighting flows inside
The surface of a star striking the ground turning it into burned pie crust
The spark in my heart, in my eyes looking across the room from you, hair stands up from the soft touch of your hand on mine.
The spark ignites in between his teeth smirking to hide the envy within his lips
Lighting comes before the thundering storm that comes your way
The Flashback
As darkness crept in from atop the night sky, all I could do was stand in my room and watch as my fear grew inside me. A flash. That was all I saw, and then darkness. Fear overwhelmed me as I pounced into bed, until...
I saw it in the corner, a mere memory from last year, the night I was all alone, nothing but murkiness surrounding me. I had lost my way home, not a single person around, just me and Darkness, fighting for survival. I looked so scared, so alone, as I watched on.
Then, all went blank
Lightning Strike
In the heart of night's dark shroud it came,
A flash of lightning, a furious flame.
Splitting the heavens with jagged scars,
Unveiling secrets from realms afar.
A moment's brilliance, a blinding sight,
Revealing shadows in eerie light.
Thunder's roar echoed through the air,
Whispers of stories, tales of despair.
Faces emerged from the electric haze,
Haunted souls lost in endless maze.
A glimpse into the unknown's domain,
Where fear and wonder forever reign.
A fleeting glimpse of truth untold,
In that flash of lightning's stronghold.
A world unseen in the silent night,
A brief connection to the other side.
‘‘Sasha…’’
‘‘Sasha…’’
The voice stopped calling, and then his body froze at the sight of her current bodily state. Frank stood with his mouth agape. Sasha was hunched over the edge of the bed. She seemed to not have heard her name being called. All her limbs were bent in a zig-zag shape. This made Frank’s heart skip a beat. He dropped the bowl of her favorite fruits on the hardwood floor, & started to head for the door. But then he slipped on a blueberry. His head started ringing from the impact it had with the cold, hard wooden floor. Meanwhile, Sasha was not quite aware of who this human that had approached her was. When she finally turned around, Frank screamed out loud! Sasha’s lethal upper and lower canines that extended out of her mouth diced Frank’s entire body into minuscule chunks. At the crack of dawn, while some folks were still under the spell of a yawn, Sasha stretched, and jumped out of bed. She stumbled across a pile of what looked like a mix of blood, and bones. The stench of it all made her want to nearly hurl. Suddenly, she heard a familiar sound.
‘Sasha…’
But when she looked around, Frank was no where to be found.
#‘‘Sasha…’’ ©️
14.08.2023
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=LJxHHMsduQg&pp=ygUPZGlzdHVyYmlhIGx5cmlj