Category Archives: Uncategorized

Photo of The Day

Nothing but rain and more rain.

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Just My Luck

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I got pulled over today. Lucky me. I asked the officer how he knew something was wrong with my insurance. He said that he was behind me and just decided to run my plates. Nice, real nice and lucky me again. I told my wife that since I’ve met her I have been pulled over twice. Of course it is not her fault. But it is her fault. I feel better.

I pulled the weeds from my rose bed. Well, they are actually miniature rose bushes. It was all spooky looking with the sun dried weeds that spread like webs, torn plastic bag pieces and a grocery receipt. It was windy today. Now the area looks all yuppie and decent. Still more work to do. Next time I will wear a hat. Found a caterpillar in my hair when I stopped to get gas.

I couldn’t pick up my kid today due to the insurance issue. So he had to stay at his grandparents for the night. He threw such a fit because he wanted to come home. So my wife met them half way and brought him home. He can’t live without us. And we can’t live without him. It’s sickening.

I read an article about free writing. I have a hard time moving the rock to write stories and that same rock gets in front of me with writing as well. Sometimes I have to push harder if I have no subject in mind. It is still a great thing to do. You have to push, push, and push. It keeps the juices flowing. One day I’ll get something out of a mess of nonsense and have a great story.

My day did not go the way I thought. But I have Guinness. Now everything is alright.

As always, I’m happy writing. Happy writing to you.

-Shanna

Critiques Needed: Flash Fiction. Thank you.

Got Away

I don’t know what we were thinking. That we could get away with it perhaps? Jenny sat in the passenger seat with eyes and mouth wide open. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Why did I get her involved? We came to a red light on Ferge and Cuda Rd. I looked both ways for traffic. No cars on the road. In front of us was the way out of town. I checked my review mirror for police lights and saw none.

My dad’s car, which I stole, rattled as if it was about to cut off. Jenny heard it and looked terrified. I pressed the gas pedal and the engine died. I turned the key again. Nothing. We were definitely stuck. Sirens rang in the distance behind us. I thought about when I was a child as I waited for the lightning then counted until the thunder boomed. Wish I could judge the distance of the police and calculate how much time we have to figure out what to do. With my shaky hand I attempted to rub Jenny’s hair, and she jumped. She unfolded her hands on her lap and there, the blood, our father’s blood. She had the knife. Fresh tears flowed.

Her scream blended with the sirens closing in behind. “Get out of the car!” I yelled. She leaped out and I noticed the blood on my dad’s door handle. My stomach turned. My first thought was that he was going to be mad at me. My second thought was that he could do nothing about it. “What are we going to do, Jon?” she asked. I stared at my sister. She was the one with blood on her hands. “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

As the police arrived I took off across the street. She ran after me, trusting me, not realizing that I had left her to take the blame for our father’s death. Gun fire exploded behind us. I thought of the lightening and picked up my pace. I slid to a stop past the border then turned around. That’s when I saw her, crumpled in the middle of the road like a small dead deer. Her blood now mixed with my father’s blood as it was in her bedroom. I hit him and busted his lip, his blood and hers on the sheets. I defended her and she followed me. I grabbed a handful of rocks as they approached her. They will not touch her. I ran toward her body, throwing the rocks.

A flash of light followed by smoke blinded me. My chest burned. Grabbing my chest, I thought of firecrackers and the 4th of July at my family’s barbeque. Everyone excited as dad set off the poppers. My legs buckled just as I reached Jenny. She looked at me as I fell on top of her. We both stared at each other as death gave us darkness and peace.

 

Out of The Deep

Being sick is a bitch. But when it’s mental sick it’s far worse. I ran out of meds. Yes, I know I could have prevented that but sometimes my mind gets so stressed that it just goes to la la land. Pretty soon I am off routine and I’ve forgotten to medicate, eat, get out of bed and bathe. That’s when I know the depression got a good hold on me and I am deep in the pit. It’s dark, cold and sad. And I was breathing it. I wonder what would have happened to me if I lived alone. It’s a scary thought. A more disturbing thought is that I am the type of person who can not function without medication. I hate that I need it. My wife pulled me out of the deep end. She did it by snapping at me. She was frustrated and pissed because it happened and was unnecessary. I agreed. I was so tired and frustrated at myself that I was ready for help. Especially when my son told me that he missed me and wanted to spend time together. For the last two days I have heard people say, “Take care of yourself.” You can get so caught up taking care of everyone else and everything else that you forget yourself. I haven’t been able to write. I have so many ideas that I am ripping at the seams. Writing this blog is the first thing I’ve written in a while. It feels good. I’m ready to get back to work. I’m ready to feel alive. 

I am an information whore. I love learning. So, I am finally going to teach myself how to code. I can not believe I don’t already know how to code. What took me so long? I am using Codecademy for starters to get my feet wet. It’s pretty easy so far. I’m looking forward to learning how to program games and websites. 

Thanks for reading. I look forward to interacting with you. Of course, please take care of yourself. 

Oh my goodness! I can not believe my writing block has burst into a millions of pieces. The creative juices are boiling in my brain.  I just have to keep putting it on paper. Which I hate. Lazy writer here. I wish I could put a wand to my head like Albus Dumbledor and pull out my stories. I have no idea at the moment the point of this new story. Conflict? No idea. Which is good. Finding out is the fun part.

Write everyday. Even if it’s one word. Make it a profound one. 

My Passions Are Calling

Had a meeting first thing this morning. So glad I bought coffee or I would have closed both eyes and fallen to sleep. While the Charlie Brown teacher spoke I contemplated my employment options. It came down to one comparison. Money vs. Happiness. I’ll be 39 this month. Fuck it all. I’m ready to be happy. Problem is I have no idea what to do or how to do it. So, I look to my passions: Writing, music, and art. Sounds rich to me. Opportunity can be fearful. And taking chances…pop a prozac please! Oh the anxiety. I do not want to start going back and forth right now so I will close with this. I want to fall in love again with my passions. I want to give over so much of myself that I achieve zen. I want to write like I’m feelin on a woman. I want to make love to my music and make art that would turn you on. So begins my journey. Peace.