Posted in Blogging, Fiction, Flash Back Friday, Humor, postaday, writing

Flashback Friday

Here it is the last Friday before Christmas. I’m sure most of you good folks are scurrying around trying to finish that last Christmas shopping. Or, maybe getting ready for the annual company Christmas party.

I’m sure you are busy and feeling rushed and worrying if this is ok, or that is all right. RELAX!! It’s not like this time of year doesn’t happen every year.

This is the time of year when you are supposed to enjoy the spirit of the holiday. Enjoy family, friends and strangers alike. It’s not suppose to be a race, or a contest. Relax, take a deep breath, slowly let it out and enjoy everything around you. Even if it’s just the little things, because sometimes, it’s the little things that mean the most.

For your reading pleasure, or not, you decide, I’m taking you back to when I first started writing this blog. This is my very first short story that I wrote here. I didn’t have many followers then, in fact, I might have had 5 or 6. LOL

I’ve done a bit of editing to it. Boy, did it need it! But I enjoyed writing it the first time and enjoyed writing it this time. Hope you all will enjoy it. You can read the original here.

 

source unknown
source unknown

Handsome is as Handsome Does

 

As I finished my wonderful meal for one, I noticed the dining room quieted.  I looked up and there in the doorway was a semi-god. Tall, stunning, black hair, blue-gray eyes, a profile of a young Adonis. No smile lit his chiseled face. To me it looked as if he was just accepting his due. Saying wordlessly, “yes, this is my world and I am king!.”

The man stood for a moment in the doorway. It was as if  he was used to the attention, enjoyed quieting the room with his presence. Slowly his eyes looked around the room, perhaps to see if he knew anyone he deemed important. Obviously not seeing anyone worth note, he nodded at the maitre’d to lead him to his table.

Heads turned, eyes followed his slow walk through the restaurant. His long lashed eyes never glanced left or right. It was as if the room was empty of us other lowly diners.  The man was easy to  look at. His confidence a cloak around his shoulders. With effortless grace he took his seat, patiently waits while the waiters flit around him like black winged birds.

I look around the room at the faces of the men and women. Each and every one of them staring at the young man with either envy or lust in their eyes. Me, I felt neither. It was like watching a well rehearsed play. Yes, the actor was handsome, but the play was a bit too well done for my taste, too practiced.

No one left their chairs to approach the man. Some probably were tempted. But there was a ‘no trespassing’ sign, unwritten perhaps, but easily read by all. I watched the reactions of my fellow diners for a few minutes, sipping the last of my wine. Then I could stand it no more. Setting my empty wine glass down, I stood. Moving towards the stranger, I was determined and steady in my course.

As I passed tables I could feel eyes turn to me. Then soft murmurs as I never wavered in my approach. The Adonis slowly looked up from his reading of the menu, watching my approach without blinking. He never gave me a hint of his thoughts as I grew nearer. Stopping at his table, we stared at each other for a few breathless seconds.  I slowly bent towards him, flashing him my deep cleavage.

One hand braced on the table and one hand gripping the back of his chair I lean my head towards his nicely curved ear. My lips almost brushing his skin, I whisper softly……..”Your fly is open!”.

 

Posted in Blogging, Fiction, Humor, postaday, stories, writing

Twas the Night Before Christmas (My Version)

Twas The Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the towns

Not a blogger was writing, not even Le Clown.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that our pets would not chew and tear.

The Children were  nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of x-box games warred in their heads.

Dis is me! Sam
Dis is me! Sam

My dog Sam in his ‘kerchief and me with a drink,

Had just settled  down without so much as a  blink.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clamor,

Sam sprang with a growl and I with a hammer.

Away to the window we flew like a flash,

If it was a burglar he was going to get smashed.

The moon on the mounds of new fallen snow

Gave the shine of mid-day to objects below.

When, what to my blood shot eyes should appear,

But a damn little man carrying eight cans of beer!

With a sigh and a feeling of being sick,

I knew in a moment it was my neighbor being a dick.

More vapid and stupid is this person next door,

As he whistled and sang a course song about whores.

Now hooker! now, harlot! now, floozy and vamp!

On, trollop! on, hussy and strumpet and tramp!

Let’s all have a party! Let’s all have some grass!

I’ve got the cash, the beer and the brass!

As the snow flew and whirled inside, I shook my fist and muttered a sigh.

And then in a twinkling, I heard my door open

In came the neighbor with his eight beers as tokens.

I gasped and I drew in my breath to give him a shout,

when I got a good look at what else was about.

He was all dressed in black, from his head to his toes,

And his clothes was a tux, with a big red rose.

This man in the back that followed the lout,

he looked like a god, as he carried his stout.

His eyes how they sparkled! His dimples how dreamy!

His face  was a models, his nose long and leany,

His strong mouth was turned up in a grin,

And the cleft in his chin made my heart spin.

His strong body held straight, with muscles so tight,

It’s then I remembered my hair looked a fright.

tux

He was handsome and smart, a man of my dreams,

And I drooled just a little and wanted to scream.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to work,

He fingered my stockings, then turned to the jerk.

And laying a finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, he rose up and strode,

He shoved the neighbor outside of the door,

Then came back and hugged me once more.

He gave me a cuddle, a kiss and a gasp,

Then he carried me off like man of great class,

I heard him exclaim as we went out of sight,

“Happy Christmas to all, We are off for a great night!”

 

Posted in Fiction, postaday, stories, Uncategorized, writing

The Key

Phillis  cried as she packed up her great grandmothers things. She knew she shouldn’t be sad, as great-grandmother told her on her death-bed, she had lived a long and good life and it was time to move on now. Yet Phillis cried, in sadness that she wouldn’t be able to sit in the small parlor, sip tea, and learn from her wise great-grandmother Edith. She’ll miss those happy times. She’ll miss the warm hugs and sweet smiles. Phillis and Edith were all that was  left of a once strong family. Now there was only Phillis left.

Accidents, illness, and now  old age had left the family  with only  one member left.  Phillis felt  the sadness overwhelm her once more.  Edith had left the family home and a comfortable fortune to Phillis. All Edith asked of Phillis is that when the time came, to give a few personal belongings to friends, then get rid of what ever Phillis didn’t need.  Great Grandmother also gave Phillis  a key. It was an old-fashioned skeleton key. She handed it to Phillis just before she died and whispered that the key was the path to the family’s true heritage. Then she breathed her last breath and passed gently on.

The key now lay between Phillis’s breasts. Hung by a red ribbon around her neck, she felt the cold metal against her skin. For the thousandth time she wondered what it would open. She curled her hand around it, and felt the metal heat up. She had been on the look out for anything it might fit into while packing up a few of Edith’s things. She knew it was too small for a door. And she had lived in this house for most of her 25 years and she had never seen a door that this key might fit. So she looked for a box of some sort, but so far had come up with nothing. She had no idea what Edith meant when she said “it was the path to the family’s true heritage.” What did that mean?

Biting her lip she gave the large bedroom another look. She knew in her heart she would never be able to completely change  this room. To her  it will always be her great-grandmother Edith’s room. She  picked up the box full of the few things Edith wanted given to friends and walked out of the room. Edith was to be entombed today in the family cemetery. Afterwards there was to be an  informal get together with friends, and then  tomorrow morning there  would be a meeting with the old family lawyer Benjamin Wilkins, in the library. The formality of the reading of the will would be done then.

Phillis walked downstairs and turned left into the library. She set the box on the large dark desk so the lawyer could have them tomorrow. Sighing she knew she was just putting off what had to be done today. She hated funerals. She had gone to so many family funerals the last 10 years that she was just sick of them. Smiling ironically,  she thought that this was the last one she would have to go to. Since she was the last of the family, she only had one more left to attend, and since she would be the one dead it didn’t matter.

She gave a watery chuckle, and could almost hear the laugh that Edith would have given along with her.  That was one of many traits that the two had shared, their dark humor. Along with the red hair and pale skin, they could have been twins. Many people commented on how much  they were alike. In looks as well as in mannerisms. If they weren’t generations apart they could have been identical twins. But Phillis took this as a great compliment. Edith had been a very beautiful woman  in her youth and even at the ripe old age of 95 when she died, she still retained the grace and dignity that she had carried all her life.

Maybe Mr. Wilkins knew what  the key went to, thought Phillis as she gathered her coat and car keys from the small table in the front hall. She will have to remember to ask him. She put on the long black coat as she looked at herself in the mirror over the table.  She reached up and adjusted the tiny black hat atop her  red hair. Edith had always stated a lady never went to a funeral without a hat. Just as she always said a woman never left home without lipstick on, even if she was just going to the mailbox. Phillis sighed, as she looked at herself once more before leaving for the funeral. She could almost see her great-grandmother smile at her from behind the mirror. Turning, Phillis walked out the front door, locked it behind her and  climbed into her car. It was time for her last funeral. She just hoped she could carry it through with the same dignity and grace that Edith would have shown.

A few short hours later, Phillis was glad the funeral was over. Now she was making sure all her guests, her great-grandmother’s friends, had something to eat and drink.  She stopped here and there, giving a hug, a small kiss, or a kind word to all of Edith’s many friends and neighbors. She was so tired, but didn’t let it show. Soon she would have the house to herself once again.  Except for a dear friend of Edith’s who was staying the night in a guest bedroom.  Malcolm Gerroud was a very close friend of Edith’s . They had known each other for years. Malcolm was an elderly gentleman, handsome and intelligent. He had  silvery hair, blue eyes and a mischievous smile. Phillis loved Malcolm, she always thought him and Edith had a ‘thing’ going on, but never asked. He was probably a good 20 years younger than Edith was. But Phillis knew that with Edith one never thought in years, because Edith was beautiful up to the day she died.

Phillis walked up to Malcolm and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I will be so glad when it is all over with Malcolm”.

“I  know my sweet, but soon the people will be gone and you can rest for a while” Malcolm said.

Malcolm gave the key that was laying on her chest a glance. “Have you found out yet what that opened?” he asked nodding towards  the key.

“No”  she sighed.  “Are you sure Edith never told you about the key?”

“Not a word, I’m afraid dear girl”  he stated.

“Here I thought you knew each other’s deepest, darkest secrets!” teased Phillis.

“Oh we did! So I’m surprised about the key” he said.

Phillis sighed, and watched her guests talking and remembering Edith in each their own way.  Malcolm’s voice interrupted  her  thoughts as she heard him say,  “Maybe I should stay and help you search dear.”

Surprised she glanced up at his handsome face. “I thought you had to fly to Europe tomorrow for business?”

“I can put that off for a while. It’s nothing that can’t wait.” Malcolm says.

One of the guests came up to say their goodbyes, so Phillis never had a chance to answer Malcolm. As she accepted condolences once more as each guest left, she thought maybe it would be a good idea if Malcolm did stay.  It was a big  house, and no one knew Edith better than Malcolm did. Together, they should be able to  figure out what the key opened.  As the last guest left Edith went to find Malcolm and accept his offer to stay. As she neared his bedroom she noticed the door was not quite closed.  She walked up and was just about to knock  and open  it when she heard her name. Malcolm was talking on the phone. She could just see his reflection in the dresser’s mirror through the slight door opening.

She never knew why she hesitated and listened. She was not by nature an eavesdropper.  This one time  she was. She heard her name again as Malcolm’s voice raised. “I’m telling you the truth! Phillis does NOT  know what the key opens!”

“No! I’ve told you before, Edith never told anyone what the key was for!”

Phillis held her breath as she watched Malcolm pace the bedroom floor. Who ever he was talking to obviously didn’t believe  Malcolm. “I offered to stay and help find what the key opened.”

“No, I don’t know yet, we got interrupted before she said anything more.”

“Yes, yes.  I will call you as soon as I know something.”

“I will make sure I’m here. I can convince her I’m sure. She loves me like a father.”

Phillis silently walked  back downstairs. Her mind was in a whirl. Who was Malcolm talking to? Why was the key so important? Could she trust him? What should she do? She grabbed the key in her hand as she walked into the parlor. She sat down in Edith’s favorite chair and wished she had her great-grandmother back to talk to. Phillis heard Malcolm come into the room. She dropped the hand that was holding onto  the key into her lap and waited for Malcolm  to speak.

“Well,  my dear, I am offering my services as a blood hound if you want the help.” he kidded with her.

Phillis looked up into that dear old face and all she saw was kindness and that wonderful smile of his. She drew in a breath and gave a slightly trembling smile  back. “I would be grateful if you would stay and help Malcolm.” She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw relief in his face just as he turned to pour himself another drink.

“Then I am at your service dear girl” he stated quietly.

Phillis stood up and walked towards the stairs. “Thank you Malcolm, and with that I bid you good night. It’s been a very long day and I’m tired.”

“Good night sweetheart, see you bright and early in the morning and we shall start to look for what that key opens.” he smiled at her.

“Okay, see you in the morning” she said.

Phillis walked quickly to her bedroom and shut the door. Her hand found the lock and turned it. It would be the first time that she knew of that her door would be locked,  and she sighed  deeply. She sat  at the edge of her bed and once again held the key in her hand.

“What do you open?” she whispered.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Fiction, postaday, stories, Uncategorized, writing

The Taxi Dancer

 

 

After  the music ended, Anita sat at her table and wished  she could take her shoes off and rub her tired, achy feet. But, she knew the music would start again in a few minutes and there would be another man holding out his 10 cent ticket to her. Then they would dance, maybe have a few snippets of conversation if he was talkative. If the man was on the shy side the dance would be quiet.

Sometimes if Anita liked the look of the man, she would try to get him to talk. Most times not though. It was a job. Times were tough, she had to help  with the family finances and this was better than nothing. She got this job because she could dance. She always loved to dance, even when she was little, Mama would catch her dancing all over their tiny  apartment. Now that Mama was sick, it was up to her to pay the bills. So she came to the Taxi Dance hall and got a job.

The job was tiring and she usually went home with sore feet and achy muscles, but it never stopped her from returning the next day.  The pay was fair, mostly because she was one of the most popular Taxi’s there. Men enjoyed dancing with her and she had her weekly regulars. She knew that some dancers working there did ‘side jobs’, but she wasn’t one of them. She was a good girl and she  wouldn’t shame Mama  that way.

Anita heard the band start another song, and just like she knew would happen, there was a man standing in front of  her with his 10 cent ticket in his hand. Without even glancing up at the man’s face she took his ticket and stuck it inside the small black purse dangling from her wrist. She stood up and took his outstretched hand, finally tilting her head up and see who it was. This one she didn’t know, he was a new face in the crowd. The handsome young man smiled at her and led her to the dance floor.

They glided smoothly across the oak  floor. Not speaking. Anita was okay with that, there didn’t seem to be a need to talk. She thought he was an excellent dancer, better than most of her ticket holders. She felt comfortable. As they twirled once more around, he finally spoke in a soft deep voice. “I’m glad my buddy talked me into coming here tonight.”

“Why is that?” Anita asked.

“Because I just met the most beautiful woman, who dances like an angel” he said with a small smile.

“I bet you say that to all the ladies” Anita joked.

“Only you”  he said. “Only you from now on” he whispered.

 

 

 

 

**I came across some information about Taxi Dancers while I was researching something else. It fascinated me. They were women who in the 1920’s and 30’s who got paid for dancing with men. The men would buy 10 cent tickets to be able to pay for dancing with them. The women received a commission on how many tickets they collected. This is a very short story that came out of that.**

Posted in Humor, nonfiction, stories, Uncategorized, writing

The Dog in the Box

dog in the box
Sam in his box

My name is Sam and I’m addicted to boxes. I like big boxes, small boxes, tall boxes, short boxes, and especially boxes I can sleep in. Just ask my human, Jackie, the writer of this blog. She’ll tell you how much I love boxes. My human asked me to take over this blog for today, because she’s real busy. Looks  like she’s doing laundry right now,  how boring right? Maybe she’ll wash my pillow, it sure needs it. I’ll remind her later, right now I have this blog to write.

Now according to my human I’m suppose to write a story. She’s into this story a day thing this month and doesn’t want to miss a day. Also she said she doesn’t want to let her readers down. So, since she’s pretty busy she figured I could take over today and she won’t have to miss any time. Personally, I think she knows I’m full of stories and I would make a great blogger! Anyway, I love boxes right? Yeah, you probably got that huh? Well I live with two cats. Man, are they a pain in the tail! They are a brother/sister team and boy do I have trouble with those two! They are always buttin’ in my business. Talk about nosy! Just because they are bigger then me they think they can just take over what ever I’m doing. They like boxes too, but not as much as me!

Now, I’m a pretty good looking dog. Everyone says so! Okay, they tell me I”m cute, when I would rather be handsome, but hey, humans are strange ya know? Sorry, sometimes my mind wonders. Back to the story.

The two devil cats
Pouncer and Notwen, the two devil cats! Innocent looking right?

 

My human got something in the mail a few months ago. It came in this huge sturdy box! Wow, was I excited! I couldn’t wait for her to get that stuff outta the box so I could take over! I mean this was the box of my dreams! It was really tall and wide, I could turn around several times in that box! I was in love! So I’m jumping up and down and barking, trying to hurry her along so I could take over that beautiful box. Finally! She was done taking the things out of it. She laid it down so I could get inside and it was great! I mean that box was huge! I checked that box out inside and out. I checked all the corners, then jumped on top and made sure it was as sturdy as it looked.  Yup, it sure was!

I was just getting ready to move some of my favorite toys in, when I see those darn cats coming around the corner. They were headed straight for my box! Oh no they don’t!! They ain’t gettin my box! So I scramble inside that box ready to defend it against those two devils. Now, those cats are bigger then me. They outweigh me by a good 10-15 pounds. And Pouncer, the female, oooowie! She is a mean one! They got these wicked sharp claws too! But, I’m not afraid of no stinkin’ cats! That box was mine and that was that!

I take a stance in my box ready to defend it when I see one cat missing. Where the heck did he go?? Just when I’m thinking that,  Wham! Something  hits the top of my box like a cannon! I thought for sure the ceiling of my box was gonna come down and crush me! But, nope, my wonderful box held up to the onslaught of Notwen jumping on it. Whew! I knew that was one great box! Now I had to get that sneaky cat off the top of my box!

So I run outta my box and start nosing  Notwen off the top of it. Notwen is the bigger of the two, but he is such a softy that I know if I keep pushing at him he’ll leave. And darn if I wasn’t  right! Notwen hates to fight, so off he goes back to his bedroom and a good nap. Yes! One down, one to go! I know I have to be a bit smarter with Pouncer, because she don’t put up with being pushed around. Especially by no dog! So I gotta out think her! Should be easy I figured, I mean she’s a CAT.  The day I can’t outwit a cat is the day I hang up my dog license!

Well gosh darn fur balls! (Excuse my language) Pouncer’s all ready inside my box! She must have snuck in while I was chasing off her brother! And she’s hunkered down in there too!  Now, I know there is no way I can push her out, because she just don’t push! She’ll swipe me with one of those giant paws  with those razor-sharp  nails and I’ll be hurtin! So I have to be smart about things and call in reinforcements. I know when I need help and am not too proud to ask for it! Time to get my human! She knows that box is mine, she’ll help me! So I go runnin to her and sit up in front of her, that always gets her attention! She looks at me and asks me what I want. I look towards MY box and bark! I’m telling her to  get rid of that darn cat and let me have my box back!

Well she gets up and chases Pouncer out of my box! She scolds that old cat, telling her she knows she’s just being contrary  because I have something she don’t! I quickly get in my wonderful box. Whew! That was tiring! I think I need to take a page out of Notwen’s book and take a nap. But there is no way I’m leaving my box! It’s perfect for nap taking. So I just laid down and went to sleep. Had some good dog dreams too!

Thanks everyone for reading my story! I got lots of them. My human will be back tomorrow, hope you all have a wonderful day! I might have to tell my human I want to write another story………..

Dis is me! Sam

 

 

Posted in Fiction, stories, Uncategorized, writing

Two Coffee’s Please

She spotted him again this morning. Every morning for the past two weeks she has seen him come in and order his coffee. One cream, no sugar. Just like she drank hers. She was new to town and found this quaint little coffee shop a block from her new house. So every morning she took a leisurely stroll to stop in and have her first cup. She sat at the big picture window to watch the town come to life slowly, enjoying the friendliness of the owner of the shop as she stopped and said good morning.

Coffee  in a coffee cup.

She had moved from the big city a year after her divorce. That was 6 months ago. She did free-lance writing work for the local newspaper and for a few top magazines. She might not have been able to save her 5 year marriage, but she was able to save her sanity by moving here. A small friendly town. Lots of nice helpful people. Strangers, all of them. It was sad that she felt more at home now with these strangers then with the “friends” she had left behind in the big city.

She had gotten tired of the awkward conversations. The pitying looks. The fake “I’m so sorry things didn’t work out” from people she knew weren’t sorry at all. When you divorced a rich, high-powered lawyer, who turned out to be a rich, high-powered scum bag, things got a bit messy. And ugly. So she left. Good-by scum bag, good-by fake friends, good-by ugly.

She smiled and took another sip from her rapidly cooling cup of coffee. Debating whether to have another cup to indulge herself, or head back towards home she noticed the man come into the shop. For two weeks she watched the same handsome man do exactly the same thing. He would walk in, glance around briefly, and walk to the counter to order his cup of coffee. One cream, no sugar. Then he would sit at a table next to the wall, open his morning paper and read it while sipping his cup of joe. After exactly half an hour, no more, no less, he would fold up his paper. Reach in his pocket for change that he left near the empty cup, smile at the owner and leave.

It was fascinating to her that he did this every morning, without fail. Never once changing his actions. Obviously a man of habit. A very good-looking man of habit. She gave a small self-deprecating laugh. She shouldn’t be noticing handsome strangers. For all she knew he could be married with five kids. Or be another scum bag. And one in her life time was enough! Feeling satisfied she left, waving good-bye to the owner.

The next morning came in a blustery, dreary, looking like rain, fall light. She debated going for her usual walk to get her cup of coffee. She had a brand new coffee pot at home she could use. It was sitting on her kitchen counter just waiting to be filled full of fresh hot  brew. Instead she found herself locking up her house as she set off towards the coffee shop.  She smiled as she walked briskly down the sidewalk. The fall wind at her back, pushing her on wards. The dry crackling leaves swirling around her feet.

As she came closer to the quaint coffee shop she noticed a tall handsome figure just walking through the door ahead of her. He was early today, she thought to herself. For some reason she felt a flicker of anxiety. In the two or more weeks when she had first noticed him he never deviated from his routine. Always the same time he arrived, always the same time he left. She wondered if something was wrong.

She opened up the door and was greeted with the  smell of freshly ground coffee. The shop was gratefully warm and cosy. She saw the handsome man standing at the counter. As she approached  to give her usual order she spotted the owner on the phone. The woman gave a small friendly wave and mouthed, “be right there”. She waited, almost made nervous by the man next to her. Then she heard a deep soft voice state, “I notice you’re here every morning”. She nodded, looking up into hazel eyes darkly fringed. The eyes were warm and curious.

“So are you” she stated. Looking at a wide-set face with a slight dusting of freckles. The face went well with the reddish/brown hair falling over his forehead.

“I enjoy the walk before work. And I enjoy good coffee. So I get both every morning” he laughed.

The laugh was infectious. She found herself drawn to the man. She felt the beginnings of interest flicker in her mind as he introduced himself as the local hardware store owner. He engulfed her hand in a warm handshake that lingered just a bit, as she told him she had moved to town six months ago and was a free-lance writer. She liked how he looked. Friendly, interesting, open, just like the small town she has come to love.

Slowly they both faced the woman behind the counter as she stood waiting for them to order. The man then said in his deep soft voice, “Two coffee’s please. One cream, no sugar”.

Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized, writing

Memories

 

 

She sat in her rocking chair in front of the big picture window. On a small oak table sat her old gramophone. Softly playing scratchy tunes from her childhood. She smiled as she listened to songs from so long ago.

There was no sadness  in her eyes. Only shadows of memories past. Happy times of long ago when things were simpler. She was a young child again. Playing in her granny’s garden among the flowers and the birds. Carefree times. She saw herself pouring tea in tiny china cups from a tiny china teapot. They had small red roses on them. Granny would fill her tiny teapot with afternoon tea and she would carefully take it out to the garden for all her dolly friends to share. Sometimes  granny gave her beautiful sugar cookies  to have with her tea.

The old woman sat further back in her rocking chair as  memories floated back to her. The music played on and in her mind she was a young woman again. Childhood tea parties gave way to evening dances in friends homes. Laughter and clinking of cocktail glasses. Chiffon dresses in soft hues of colors. Up swept hair and heels on her feet. Handsome young men vying for her attention. Soft smiles and flirting eyes. Whispers of affection and daring kisses in the dark. Love had found her.

She sighed softly as the memories then turned to motherhood. Her man proud of the children she gave him. Their love growing deeper as they watched those children grow. Soft baby laughter. First steps, first words uttered from smiling baby lips.  Feeling once again those small strong arms giving her hugs and big wet smacks on her cheek. The love that withstood teenage drama, and the tears and fears of growing up. She  relived those times with other baby laughter and strong hugs of affection that are her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Even as she remember the sad day that the love of her life passed, her smile dimmed but never completely left her face. Silent tears slowly ran down her face as her memories of having to say good-bye came back to her. How she missed him. His laughter would ring out and fill her heart. His way of surprising her with gifts for no reason at all. Like  the gramophone that softly played onward. His gift to her one week after they were married because he knew how she loved to dance.

Her tears dried as other memories marched forward. All good, even the bad. They were her life. Her heart.  Her soul. She sighed as she smiled. Her eyes softly closed, her body relaxed. Her spirit floated upward, drifting, then she felt him catch her hand. Once again she was in his arms, her smile brighter as she said a silent good-bye.

 

 

 

Posted in Humor, Uncategorized

Handsome is as Handsome Does

The room became hushed. I looked up and there in the doorway was a semi-god. Tall, stunning, black hair, blue-gray eyes, a profile of a young Adonis. No smile lit his face. It was like he was just accepting his due. Saying wordlessly, “yes this is my world and I am king!.”

He stood for a moment in the doorway. I could tell that he was used to the attention, used to quieting a room with his presence. Slowly his eyes looked around the room, perhaps to see if he knew anyone of importance. He nodded at the maitre’d as the man started to lead him to his table near the far wall.

Heads turned to follow him. Slowly he walked through the restaurant, neither looking left nor right. As if the room was empty of us other lowly diners. No doubt the man was easy to  look at. His confidence a cloak around his shoulders. With effortless grace he takes his seat  and patiently waits while the waiters flit around him like black winged birds.

I look around the room at the faces of the men and women. Each and every one of them staring at the young man with either envy or lust in their eyes. Me, I felt neither. It was like watching a well rehearsed play. Yes, the actor was handsome, but the play was a bit too well done for my taste, too practiced.

No one got out of their chairs to talk to the man. Some maybe wanted to. But there was a ‘no trespassing’ sign unwritten but very well read to the man. So I watched for a few minutes, finishing my excellent dinner. Then I could stand it no more. I stood, and started slowly moving towards the stranger.

As I passed the tables I could feel eyes turn to me. Then soft murmurs as I never wavered in my approach. The Adonis slowly looked up from his reading of the menu and watched my approach without blinking. He never gave a hint of his thoughts as I grew nearer. Stopping at his table we stared at each other for just a few seconds.Then I slowly bent towards him.

One hand braced on the table and one hand gripping the back of his chair I lean towards his nicely curved ear. My lips almost brushing his skin. I whisper softly……..”Your fly is open!”.