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Prepare now
MONSTER
"The Monster Mash" played on the radio the night I wore my best blue dress with lace and black patent leather Mary Janes. Gary, the boy next door, told me I was special, a princess. We danced. I was four and balanced perfectly on his black leather loafers. The lights were dim, and the house was empty. We were alone, but I wasn't afraid.
He made me laugh.
But mom yelled at me for peeing my pants. A good girl would
never let a boy tickle them.
The truth surfaced in nightmares, and every time I hear "The
Monster Mash."
~~*~~
Thrown
Away
Every item I owned, books, typewriter, and clothes, sat on the back porch. "I'm done. You're gone." Tears fell nonstop as she deliberately shredded my heart. "Forgive me. Please. I'll do anything." Mortally scarred, I leaned against the refrigerator for support and clearly recall how cool the metal felt against my fire-hot skin.
Mom washed the breakfast dishes. Soapsuds rinsed off before
she placed them on the drainboard. So calm and indifferent. Memories include
the smell of dish soap, bubbles, and spiraling steam. But her words are forever
etched on my soul. "It's just a shame you were ever born."
~~*~~
UTOPIA
Anticipation
grew with each mile vanquished on the flight to Fairbanks, Alaska. In an open
jeep, we drove through miles and miles of emerald conifers and stately white birch.
The Tanana Valley, a kaleidoscope of earthly browns and jades, was framed by snowcaps.
Mount Denali, the sovereign.
A rusting
gold dredge scarred the pristine landscape. But crisp, clean air, fresher than
a stick of Wintergreen gum, clears my soul of discontent. Poe's aristocratic black
ravens cawed a welcome, or was it a warning?
No matter.
I'm energized, even though I have no idea what's ahead. Truly free, I've found utopia.
~~*~~
CASUAL
Don't look
at the clock. The wait will lengthen. Don't admit your love. He'll disappear. Four
hours later.
Breathe. Stay
cool. It's just a little landslide. The train will arrive soon. He'll be glad
you're here.
I pace. Distract
myself with magazines, scenery, and even eavesdropping, yet time seems to stand
still. Unsettled, I consider driving to him, but what if he's not on the train?
Did he change his mind?
Miss
Independent waits for no man, yet she's wasting time for—him.
After all,
no strings—no emotional ties means no regrets. It was our vow.
We were wrong.
~~*~~
PRECOGNITION
I'm flying through the windshield and shards of glass
sparkle like stars as they move with me. Blood trails in gelatinous drops. There
is no pain as my mangled body reposes face down in a ditch. Cars speed by. Has
no one noticed?
I gasped.
"Are you all right?" my boyfriend asks. He's driving."
"Yes," I whisper.
The day passes.
The next morning, as I round the bumper, I'm stopped cold.
An invisible wall of dread, an intense heart-stopping fear restrains me.
Is death stalking me?
My hands shake. Keys clatter on cement.
For ten days, I'm unable to drive.
~~*~~
HAPPY APRIL!
