Sunday, January 10, 2016

My Candle



The glass plate with curved edges surrounds the red glowing candle like a castle moat waiting to capture any prey that ventures toward it.  The small, odd shaped, some would call lopsided candle is positioned in the center of  the plate burning quietly as though it is a treasure that needs to be protected.  The wick slightly curved to one side gives the flame a tilt to the right edge where it is slowly melting the side and dripping wet, hot wax down toward the gallant moat.  The flame appears to be blue at the base and gradually changes to a translucent grey before shooting out a glowing somewhat illuminating yellow flame.  The obscure privacy glass window behind it reflects the candle in a mosaic pattern and gives the window flame reflection a distinct yellow and fiery red glow as though it says I want to be different.

This was written for another writing class assignment on observing something and writing about it.  

I Remember



I remember walking on dirt and blacktop roads when I was a little kid barefoot in the hot Texas heat.   

It was so long ago but I remember all the wonderful smells of apple pie cooling in the neighbor’s window, the hard rain hitting the tin roof and the smell of the fresh air. 

I remember all the things I use to love to do when I was little.  Play with horned toads, slimy grass snakes and doodle bugs that go so very slow.  

 I remember hot summer nights where I longed to go indoors to the cold air conditioning. 

 I remember the beaches in the south with the hot waves and white sand so different from the Northwest. 

I remember.....

Fate



The ship was headed out to sea.  The coast line of California was barely visible as it headed at full speed toward the Hawaiian Islands.  Pearl Harbor had just been bombed only days before on December 7, 1941 by the Japanese Imperial Army and the U.S. S. McCoy was being deployed to help with the search and rescue mission. The crew was still in shock and hardly anyone spoke on board as they headed out to help their fellow sailors.

“Hey, Rick do you have a cigarette?”  Charlie asked.

“Yea, here you go.  What do you think we will find there?” 

“Beats me, but it won’t be good.  I can’t understand why we didn’t know.  How could this happen to us?  You know I had orders to transfer to the U.S.S. Arizona two weeks ago but they postponed them until they could replace me.  Lucky me!  It could have been me.  I just don’t know why it wasn’t.” 

“Charlie, sometimes things are meant to happen for a reason, Rick said.  I know.  I once missed a flight out of New York, headed for Alabama and it crashed.  It wasn’t meant to be.  This is what was meant to be, you and me going to Hawaii and cleaning it up.  Next stop Japan.  Next stop Germany.  It won’t end.  We will keep cleaning up the mess. “How long have you been in?”

“Too long.  I was going to be discharged in August but re-enlisted since I was promised an assignment in Hawaii.  What a joke now.  I guess I am now officially assigned there but not like I thought I would be.” 

”Well, to make you feel good, I was scheduled to be discharged yesterday!  Thank you Japan! Now my lucky ass is good for at least another year, two or however long it takes.  Help us all if we enter the war with Germany. I might never leave. ” 

Rick looked up at the blue sky and was silent for about five minutes as both men contemplated the weight that was now on their shoulders.  The only sound they could hear were the waves as they beat against the ship.  War was inevitable and a world war at that.  Rick looked back down and turned to Charlie.  “Remember your fate will happen no matter what.  Lucky one day, maybe not the next.  You just have to keep moving.  Here have a few more cigarettes for tonight.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Charlie thanked Rick for the cigarettes as he put them in his pocket.  “Yea, see you tomorrow and thanks for the smokes.”  As Rick left the deck, Charlie turned to look for the shoreline but it was gone.  Gone he thought.  Now there is nothing but the ocean and our ship.  What if we are attacked?  As he thought about being attacked, Rick’s voice echoed in his head, “Remember your fate will happen no matter what. Lucky one day, maybe not the next.  You just have to keep moving.”

I’ll just keep moving…

I did this as an assignment in my writing class. Hope you enjoy reading it.  If so, leave me a comment,.  Thanks!

Saturday, January 9, 2016

The Making of a Writer

Writers should write everyday.  Carve out some time for yourself and just let the words flow.

I know those words are hypocritical of what I do.  I have time but I don't discipline my time as I should.  Do I have an extra hour per day to do this?  The simple answer is yes!  Yes, I do.  I just need to plan it out.  Is it a waste of time?  Absolutely not.  I love writing and words stitched together can be so powerful.  Words can rule.  Literally. 

When I take a class online to enhance my writing skills I stay focused and get the work done.  I have written some of my best work in those classes.  I have not shared all of it.  I hope to one day.  Right now I want to focus on writing and finishing my many manuscripts I have that are unfinished.  Who knows maybe I will self publish them too.

Writing to me is like fine art and photography.  It is relaxing and I feel in a trance when doing any of the three.  I may not make any money from any of them but I do realize the satisfaction of  taking a picture that has the best composition and light I could never have imagined, capturing in my painting an image that, well, someone can actually recognize what it is or writing a story and having it critiqued by my peers and they really, really, really like it. 

So the making of a writer to me is find the time, enjoy what you do and don't put money before your craft.  Life is short, just enjoy the time you have here.  The best, of course, is yet to come.


Saturday, January 2, 2016

The Subway Shop by Carol Eliassen

I had an assignment for one of my classes where I was suppose to visit a place and then write about it.  I was picking up subway sandwiches for my daughter's family so I decided to write about my experience while there.  It is amazing what we experience but never really notice consciously.  Here is the very short story.  I hope you enjoy!


The door opened out towards the sidewalk with the smell of fresh baked bread seemingly floating in the air. The smell had a mixture of fresh herbs and multi-grains.  I wasn’t really hungry until that door opened and the smell hit me in the face.  I was hooked and the strong scent was reeling me in.

The walls were decorated with overly large red tomatoes, green peppers and a scrumptious loaf of bread.   Jazz and love songs played from the overhead speakers as if to have you fall in love with the place. 

I hurried up to the counter anxiously waiting my turn as a mother with two young children tugging at her skirt stood gazing at the huge sandwich she was having made.  All the colors that were noted on the wall were all on her sandwich.  That was what I wanted.  I wanted it all. I felt like an Artist with an empty palette and I planned on adding every color into a splashed collage inside my bun! 

A young boy and his Dad lingered at the door but as soon as it opened you could tell by the look on their faces they were being reeled in too.
 

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