13 posts tagged “short story”

My name is Buster, my name is Buster. Buster is a great name, don't you like it? Do you like me? I know you like me, I like being liked and I like my owner. She calls me Buster. I like my name, I do. You can call me Buster, cause that is my name. Can I smell your butt?

I have a tail! See? Look, it's right over here. No, it's over here. Hold on, let me see if I can find it, I know it's around here somewhere. I have a tail, I have a tail, oh my... I am getting so dizzy. Need to sit a minute.

Ah, there is my tail! I knew it was here somewhere. You know, I like to go for walks. Walking is fun, especially at the park because I know one of these days, my owner will let me run without a leash and I will fly through the grass and dig out the sand lot.

I'm thirsty, be right back. Don't go anywhere, I want to know more about you. I like you, you are very nice. Let me get you some water...

Oh, you didn't want me to lick your face so you could taste the water? Well, my owner lets me lick her face so she can taste the water. It's pretty good water! Sure you don't want to taste it? I can bring you my bowl if you like... no?

oh, uhm... ok

Oh! OH!, the doorbell is ringing! The Doorbell is ringing! I can't reach the door! Let me look out the window, I want to open the door! Just open the door already! Open the door! Yes! Yes!

My name is Buster, my name is Buster. Buster is a great name, don't you like it? Do you like me? I know you like me, I like being liked and I like my owner. She calls me Buster. I like my name, I do. You can call me Buster, cause that is my name. Can I smell your butt?

Blending into the shadows, I prowl the night. Like the stars in the sky, I look down upon the world from above.

When I am outside, the stars guide me to places where the moon can not be seen. There, I wait patiently for my prey.

Leaping from a balcony, my quarry is unprepared but I like to play with my food first, so I let it go. If it gain my respect, I will let it go but sooner or later, I will come back and try again. My prey can be small and fleet of foot or or wing, I look for the challenge.

I am the Queen of my domain, even those who live in houses know this. They have built special places for my comfort and ease. They please me, so I stay with them. One of those special places they built for me is on the window overlooking the street.  The sill is deep and on one side, they placed a pillow so I can recline in comfort. It is the perfect place to survey my world and make sure I know where my subjects are.

I have heard them from time to time, as they speak with others, that they love to see me watching them. They say my sapphire eyes peep out of the darkness and look like stars. This satisfies me.

To show my appreciation I will allow them to pet me. Occasionally I will visit sleep in their beds with them, so that when they wake, they know I am well pleased. This seems to make them happy, so they offer me precious morsels of catnip and a toy or two.

Ah, I see one is returning home as we speak. I shall go to her and walk between her legs, so she knows I am aware of her return.

I am the Midnight Sapphire.

Yeh, I know he isn't all that big but he sure can do amazing things. He reminds me of the squirrel in the movie "Ice Age". You know the one, he manages to get into some mighty fine messes yet at the end of the day, he is the hero who still doesn't get the nut.

Course, rodents have evolved since then. This chipmunk usually gets what he is after but the rest of it? At least one time, he saved a life. Honest, he did it without guile and without any regard for his own safety.

Then again, I have noticed that chipmunks often forget certain things are dangerous to be near. For that matter, I noticed that  turkeys also tend to forget that as well. More about turkeys later, for now, let's get back to the chipmunk.

Every year, he scurries about and looks for goodies to add to his hoard. At least I think it is a he, though it could just as easily be a she... For the sake of keeping myself from confusion, he shall remain a he.

Always in a rush, except for when the rascal is watching a bird in the air or another chipmunk, this little one moves deftly through the yard. Making  scratching and scritching noises with his claws and weird sucking, sniffing noises as he tests nuts and other finds.

One day while he was moving about, doing his usual thing, a neighbor was getting into her car. She was getting ready for a very busy day, the type you like to avoid as you are doing things you can't stand doing. She had that harried look people often have as she looked about her car and rifled through her purse. No doubt, she was making sure
she had everything she needed for the day.

Meanwhile, our heroic chipmunk had his eye out for a hawk he had spied in the air. The hawk had been gliding about for a good ten minutes or so and poor chipmunk was antsy. Can't say I blamed him, hawks find chipmunks rather tasty, when they catch the little rodents.

Neighbor number two was working on her garden and was mumbling as she tried to refill her bird feeder but all she was doing was spreading seed all over the lawn. Now, you know chipmunks, this little tyke was really torn. On one hand he had a circling hawk to watch as it watched him and on the other, he was salvitating over the banquet spread out
just two driveways away.

Now, while all this was going on, a boy had just woke up and realized he was late for school, so he grabbed his gear and jumped onto his bike, pedaling as fast as his feet could pump.

Neighbor number two, gave up in disgust, left the bird seeder and walked into her house. Neighbor number one, revved up her car and moved the stick to drive. The boy came tearing through driveway two and the chipmunk decided to go for the seeds, just as the hawk dived.

Chipmunk ran up the fence and jumped, landing on the hood of the car startling the driver.  She hit her breaks, just as the Hawk came tearing through the space where the chipmunk had been. The boy raced by the driveway, just as the woman hit her brakes and stopped, mere inches from the boy. The chipmunk, unaware of the havoc, dived into
neighbor twos garden and hid under a bench as he greedily grabbed the seeds.

Hawk, unable to catch his prey, glided to an oak and looked about for fresh meat. The boy, continued on his way to school as the neighbor in the car, took huge gulps of air and tried to calm down as she realized she almost hit a child. Neighbor number two, hearing the noise, rushed out of her house and looked about. Seeing nothing wrong, she noticed a hawk in the nearby oak tree and with her broom, shooed it away from her garden.

Only the boy and chipmunk were unaware of the havoc and near misses.

It was a compunction that had no real reason. The sun was setting and the moon had begun to rise but all I could think was that I needed to drive. I'm not sure why I needed so desperately to get out and feel the motor rev and the vibration of wheels contacting the tar. I don't know why the compulsion made my hands shake as I grabbed the keys. I only know that I had to drive.

There was no thought of direction, it was more a need to speed up and feel the breeze flow through my window. My hair whipped into my eyes in fits and starts. Grumbling at the moments of blindness, I adjusted my window until the vortex was stemmed.

I drove through the Notch and mourned the Old Man of the Mountain as I passed the place where it had resided for millennium. Swirls of cloud pushed downward, curling like fingers ready to pick something up. As I drove through the clouds, they dissolved into soft phantasms. Soon only stars were above me as the valley disappeared in the distance.

The stars up here, look far different from the stars seen in cities and suburbs. Street lights and signs are not as prevalent, making the lights in the sky more visible and bright. I continued northward for hours and watched the moon slowly move higher in the sky. As I approached the Canadian border, the moon was high overheard, and suddenly the urge to drive dissipated. To one side of the road was a clearing, I pulled over and parked the car.

Taking the towel we keep in the back for the times we forget to bring one to the beach, I left the car and found a place to lay down. I looked up and watched the stars, I swear I could feel the earth as it moved through the cosmos. In awe I wondered how it was possible that the planet's gravity was so strong it kept all of us firmly planted on this tumbling rock.

As I watched the stars above, a dream came to mind and suddenly I found myself flying through the sky towards the great expanse above. Faster than the fastest thought imaginable, I sped outward and still the stars were no closer. Looking behind me, I saw the slightly oval earth. I could not look away. It was as if I were suddenly an astronaut, trying to describe a feeling that was too hard to express.

Phosphorous. That is the closest I can come to describing the edge of planet haloed against the light of the sun. Not soft and yet, so very bright and gradual as it grew deeper in color. So many colors, shades and textures. It amazed me how I could no longer tell pine from grass. Just variations upon a theme that evolved and changed as you looked upon it.

The world turned faster than I thought is would or perhaps it was me, I could not tell which. Small meteors moved past me, occasionally at first but gradually increased, heading towards the Earth.  I watched as some reached the atmosphere and heated up as they began the descent. As they blazed downward I suddenly snapped out of my wandering dream and watched the meteorite shower fall.

It was nice out. Warm but not hot, a perfect day with just enough clouds to occasionally block the sun with a soft filter. I knew it was going to be a long day, but driving in the car, I knew it would also be fun. I rolled down my window and enjoyed the view as I drove up the mountain.

The mountains in New England are not like the ones in other parts of the world. Mostly granite, pine, maple and oak. The highest mountains of this part of the United States are in this area and I was driving up one of them. Slow and surely, the views unfolded. Old glacial calderas and waterways have become valleys filled with brooks and moose or like where I live, become small towns with small rivers. All of the mountains were rounded by the glaciers but through the ages, the granite has become fractured and falls off the massive sides. Huge areas of mountains have bare patches with rubble below them. They are beautiful but also sad, as I know these mountains have been dying and will continue to do so until finally, they have worn themselves down to gentle hills.

As I mull upon these things, the traveler before me, slows his car and stops. A young brown bear has begun to walk across the road. I stop as well, in this country all animals have the right of way. I watch from the safety of my car, as the cub ambles about, not quite sure if it wants to cross the road or not, it sniffs the air and looks into the woodlands across from him. The gentleman in the other car though, has no such thoughts. He gets out of his car and tries to approach the bear.

Another car approaches from the other side of the road, as I roll down my window. She begins to speak to the man in the road, I start to sing a nursery rhyme, loudly enough for the bear to hear it and realize it should move along. I have found that singing simple tunes, in a quiet but strong voice, does not startle bears but also lets them know they must move along. To give warning is more important when you are near them than when you are right on top of them. This way they are less likely to attack.

The woman talks to the man, who is foolishly approaching the bear as I sing, and tells him to get his rear end back in his car. I begin to sing a little louder and nod to the woman as she tells him that the bear is a child and mom is not far away. My singing distracts the bear enough that he has turned away from the man and is looking more intently across the street. At that, the man recognizes his danger and gets to his car. Good thing too, as the cub's mother shows her face at that point. I close my window and stop singing. the two bears slowly cross the street and disappear into the woods.

I had so wanted to take a picture of the two but there are times, when it is better not to concentrate on the smaller view. Would I have noticed the man or the mother, if I had been snapping shots? I don't know, but I do know that the man learned a lesson he will take to heart in the future.

first read,  On the Boardwalk: part one

I needed to walk, I think Gina did as well. You can learn as much by silence as you can by talking. I thought about what she had said, the story of her adult life so far and compared it to mine. I wondered if she was doing the same thing and noticed her standing at a railing, looking at the ocean.

My eyes wandered as my ears picked up the sound of a father, yelling at his daughter, he slapped her face and pointed. The child's head bowed down and her back bent as she walked in the direction pointed. I shook my head, wandering if when people would stop doing things like that to their children.

"Why did we never become real friends." she asked me as she fingered the railing and watched the waves. I stood beside her and sighed.

"I didn't have time for friends."

The silence grew as words hung in the air. I wanted friends, I did. I just couldn't find the time.

"You were one of the most popular girls in school, I remember feeling lucky that you spent time with me each day. You kept your distance but you never treated my unkindly. I know many people who thought of you as their friend, how can you say something like that?"

"Gina, there is a difference between being friendly and having real friends. All my friendships were the kind I had with you. Friendship was for school, I didn't have time for anything else."

"Anything else? How can you say that, you were always singing. Concerts, plays, competitions, you name it, you were involved. You were always doing something in school, how could you not have time?"

"There are many things I regret, many things I missed out on. You saw me doing many things but you didn't notice when I didn't show up, when I had to do other things. I didn't get to do as much as you think I did."

"I think you are lying. Why would you do something like that? I don't hear anything but words. How real are your words Ronnie? What took up so much of your time that you could not notice others?" Gina laughed sarcastically.

I was glad she was still looking at the ocean, my eyes wandered to the stars above. She was as much a stranger as a friend, no one had ever bothered to ask me these questions before and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. It felt odd even thinking about saying these things out loud. I wandered if I even could share myself with another person. I listened to the waves and watched the stars blink. The hypnotic sound and sight soon calmed my thoughts.

"My mother owns a small store a few towns away. She has had it since I was thirteen. I would work for her occasionally at first, but then she became ill. She was sick on and off for the next six years or so.  Dad was on the road working, he would send money home to pay the bills. When mom was ill though, I couldn't get to the money to pay them or the groceries. So, I ended up taking care of my siblings, running my mom's store, babysitting and working two jobs. I was lucky to get a few hours of sleep a day before heading off to school and starting the routine over.

Senior year, they figured out what was wrong with my mom and she went  into surgery. I'm actually surprised I graduated as I wasn't in school very much. Every time I turned around, I was getting an early-out, so I could bike to my mom's store and run the shop. All of the money I made went to groceries and paying bills. Dad, when he was home, just stewed about how life was treating him badly. I don't think he ever noticed that I was working to pay the bills or that I took care of the house. Seemed all he did was call me names and treat me like I was an ant.

I wanted to leave, don't get me wrong. But if I did, who would take care of my brothers and sisters? Who would make sure they had food to eat and that they did their homework? I didn't want them to end up in the same situation I was in. I wanted them to have a childhood and have friends. It was only a few years out of my life, right?"

I told her other things, things I never shared with another soul. Things I never thought I would say out loud. I told her as much about myself as she had about herself. The moon had risen full strength before I was done speaking.

"Did you ever go to college, Ronnie?"
"I went for a year but couldn't afford the tuition so dropped out. How about you?"
"Yeh, I have a Bachelor's in Art. Lot of good that did me." Gina pushed away from the railing. "I was wrong, you're not naive, you just have a different story than mine. Back then, I would have been the naive one compared to you."

I shrugged my shoulders. Comparing didn't really seem to be that relevant, what was important was how neither of us had been able to notice what was going on around them. "We were too wrapped up in our own stories to notice others had stories as well, I guess."

We walked to the parking lot, most of the people had left the boardwalk and everything was closed down. "I'm going to Philly tomorrow, I want to see if I can get a job at a museum. Think I stand a chance?"

"Yeh, I think you might. That is, if you get something else to wear. I think I have some cloths that will fit, if you'd like to borrow some."

She laughed, "Soon as I get in my car, I am going. You are right though, I'll get something more professional looking, later." She took out her keys, unlocked the car and got in. "Maybe I'll see you around sometime, I'll call you."

I nodded and smiled, "I'll be waiting for the call, maybe we can get together when I have more time. I wouldn't mind getting away for a day."

Turning the engine she looked at the wheel, "Good idea."

She backed the car up, waved and then drove off. I watched her leave and knew she would never call. I could hear her radio playing "Zombies". Odd how you don't hear a song fort he longest time and then suddenly there it is, like a bookmark in your life.

During the many years that followed, I knew Gina to be my only friend, as only she knew what I never spoke of and I knew she felt the same way about me. Sometimes your best friend is there for but a moment of your life, it doesn't take a presence but rather a knowing. Who knows, maybe one day we will run into each other again.

The Cranberries were singing "Zombies" on the radio, it had always been a favorite. Humming the tune, I watched the traffic go by, the road was busy, mainly because of the summer vacationers. Even in the evening, they rushed to the beach, most likely to romance someone, listen to the waves, or watch the stars.

I was on my way to the boardwalk to meet an old friend. Gina had left town almost as soon as she graduated from high school. She didn't write to anyone so it was a surprise when I got a phone call from her earlier today. She was back in town for a few days and wanted to touch bases.

Gina and I were not the closest of friends, we never went to each others homes after school. We primarily hung out together at the cafeteria, doing our homework and helping each other study. We never really talked about anything outside of school, she always was something of a loner.

The traffic let up and I managed to get to the boardwalk well within time to find the meeting place. It was a warm night, not muggy, with a slight breeze, just the kind of night I enjoy most. The skies were clear and the stars bright as my shoes hit the wooden boards of the walkway leading to the boardwalk. Small family groups and couples meandered about, talking in gentle whispers and soft giggles.

As I neared the gaming area, I could see hawkers calling out to passersby,"Try your luck!.. ten balls,ten tries... Hit the balloon and win...". Clusters of people gathered around the hawkers, some to impress, others to have fun. Cries of dismay, delight and laughter filled the area as I continued walking.

The Arcade was our meeting place, locals went there as it was less busy than other sections of the boardwalk. You could actually talk without feeling as if others were crowding you and forcing you to continue walking.  Outside of locals, the only people to visit the building were  twelve and thirteen year old boys trying their luck on the newest video game or trying to figure out how to play pinball. There were usually a few kids arguing over tactics and this night was no different. Two boys were bludgeoning each other and calling each other names while a larger group surrounded them, egging them on. At least they were on the other side of the building, no doubt the owners would soon kick them out and things would quiet down soon. I passed the group and continued through the building.

"Veronica. Ronnie, is that you?"
I turned my head to see a strange woman looking at me, her make-up was overdone and she was wearing a half cut tube top. I could see the bottom of her breasts hanging out of the bottom and her shorts were more like underwear, so shear you could almost see through them. I pretended not to notice her and continued onward.

The woman grabbed my arm,"Veronica, that is you, I know it is." When would this woman leave me? I turned to her trying not to really notice her and said, "I don't know who you are, please let me go, I am meeting someone." Her eyes squinted and her lips pursed as she looked me in the eye, "You are meeting me. Don't you recognize me?"

That made me stop and really look at her. Her eyes were kind of yellowish, with pinkish veins spread out like rays. She looked at least twenty years older than me as the flesh of her cheeks and forehead were creased with lines. Still, there was something about her that seemed familiar. I know I looked confused as she watched me looking at her. Her lips grew even thinner as she quietly spoke, "It's me, Gina."

She let go of me suddenly as I looked at her, my shock and confusion coming in waves. What on earth had happened to her? She was so bright and now, before me stood a woman who was more a living husk of the person I once knew. "Gina? No, really? Gina?" I took her hands in mine  and tried to find her old stature but she smoothly slid her hands away.  Fumbling for words I felt tears trying to spill from my face. Shaking my head, I pointed to a bench and sat down, as she sat beside me I turned to her, willing the tears away, "Tell me what you've been up to."

I sat as she told me about her life. She had moved to Atlantic City and somewhere along the way had become a drug addict, it wasn't long before she was taking tricks to pay for her habit. She spoke of many things which made me shudder inside, things no one should experience. To her though, these acts were part of life.

She called me a sheltered bitch and I nodded, what else could I do? Yes, I had been sheltered but tonight my eyes had been opened. "Gina, why did you call me?"

"I wanted to see if I could turn back time. To see if I could live like you do, but as soon as I came back home I already knew the answer. I could quit drugs and stop hooking but I can never again be like you. I've seen too much. I wanted to see if a person like you would see me as normal, as worthy of life. You don't' know me, you never knew what my life at home was like, you never asked about me, what I wanted in life. No one ever asked, I was alone and you are the closest thing I ever had to a friend."

I didn't know what to say. Words were stuck in my throat, jumbled up with confusion and pity for someone I once spent time with, wiling away the lunch hours until the bell rung. I had thought of her as a casual friend, an acquaintance I had something in common with and yet, I knew she was right. Bowing my head in shame, I stood up and smiled at her, "Let's walk and get to know each other."

On the Boardwalk: conclusion

Started by Irma

As the sun set, he looked towards his mother, wondering if tonight would be the night. She lay upon the bed, fragile as a flower with but a few petals remaining. She had been his strength and now, she looked to him for what she had once given so easily. The cancer had eaten through her so quickly, now her age and weight were balanced. Still, she smiled as she looked upon him, he knew what her eyes were saying, no mirror could reflect the brightness of her love and determination.

Returning her smile, he went to her and sat gently upon the edge of her bed. He talked about his children and told her of their escapades. The thrill of adventure still in their souls, her grandchildren were on a trip to China. Soon they would be returning home to spend time with her before she left this world but for now, their adventures were her food, she soaked up every drop and begged for more. He told her of their excursion to the Great Wall, the thrills and chills of water rafting upon the Yangtze River and the awe they felt upon seeing the great palaces of past emperors.

No, tonight would not be the night, he knew she would wait as long as it took until the children came home. He smiled as she pointed to the mp3 player they had given her for her birthday. Nodding, he retrieved it and gently placed the headphone atop her wool cap. He tuned the player to her favorite music and watched as she closed her eyes and sighed.

He simply held her hand and watched the moon rise.

This is how it works: you get 5 words and with these 5 words you have to write an entry. The words might or might not be related. You decide how to combine them, and how long your entry will be. You tag your entry with 5wordchallenge and whatever other tags you like. Finally, you put the words in bold.

First challenge: headphone, thrills, flower, china, mirror

• 
  

"Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!"

Rene woke with a start and ran quickly to her son's room, meeting him in the hallway as he ran towards. His eyes wide with fear, Phillip clutched her legs and shuddered into them. Caressing his shoulders, she bent over his body. "There, there now, did you have a bad dream, sweetheart?" she spoke gently, with a soft cooing note to her voice.

Phillip nodded as he turned his head upwards, his hands move from around her legs and reach towards her, "Up?"

She picks up her son and carries him back to his bed and sits with him as he calms down. His hugs at first were more like clenches, and his sweating head drilled into her neck. She gently rocked him, until the shudders lessened and he relaxed. She lay down on the bed, Philip still atop her, she held his hand waiting for his breathing to sound normal.

"Do you want to tell me about your dream now?"
"No, it is bad. Mommy I don't ever want to go to sleep again."
"Darling, you have to sleep else you won't be able to grow up. Tell me, have you tried any of the things I told you to, yet?"
"I don't want to grow up, Mommy. I don't ever want to go to sleep."
"Tell you what, love. Let's close our eyes and make up a story, shall we? You don't have to go to sleep unless you want to."
"You won't leave me?"
"No, I promise to stay here."
"Okay."

Phillip nods his head and closes his eyes. Together the two of them weave a story together that slowly becomes a dream. Rene watches as her son slowly sinks into sleep, his hand, still holding hers. When she tries to move him to a more comfortable position, he grabs her in his sleep, as if afraid she will leave. He holds her this way, until he awakes in the morning, a happy child again, filled with curiosity and joy.

Each night, the nightmares would come and each night, Rene would help her son to sleep. Instead of the dreams fading, they were becoming stronger and worse. He would not talk of them, even in the daylight, so she did not know what his fears were. Still, she knew that this could not continue, As hard as it was for him, both of them were starting to show the effects of lack of sleep. Her co-workers had noticed her listlessness, so she knew she had to figure something out. Rene would think upon ways to help Phillip and each night, they temporarily succeeded. She even tried letting him sleep in her bed but the dreams still came, books, imagination, cuddles, baths, long walks, listening to the radio, games, nothing seemed to work.

Walking home from work, out of the corner of her eye, she saw some moving colors. She turned towards them and saw an exhibit in the toyshop window. Hoping the place might give her ideas she entered. Her eyes browsed all the toys, gizmos and gadgets, she browsed through the books and scanned the tapes. The isles filled with puzzles, paints, paper and play dough, she slowly browsed her way, inspecting each area until she came to the stuffed animals.

There he stood, she knew as soon as she saw the stuffed puppet, that he would be able to help her son. She brought him to the counter and bought the beast straight away. As she continued her walk home, she thought about how to introduce this new friend to her son, the excitement brought on ideas. This was going to work.

That night, as Phillip was getting ready for bed, Rene entered his room, hands behind her back and sat on his bed. He was looking fearfully at the bed but still got ready; with a sigh he joined her. She looked into his eyes and made sure he was listening to her.

"I have a surprise for you." Rene took the box from behind her and gave it to Philip. He opened the box and pulled out the stuffed animal. As the animal came free of the box, it unfolded to become a large green dragon. The tail curled about and the wings were outstretched, the mouth was open, Phillip could see the teeth and the forked tongue. When he touched the dragon it was soft, he turned it about and then suddenly realized it had a hole in it. Looking at his mother, he stuck a hand into the hole, the tail wrapped itself around his arm and the dragon's mouth moved. Suddenly he realized, his hand had become the dragon. Rene watched as her son investigated the puppet, when he slipped his hand into the hand hole, she knew it would not be much longer.

"This is a very special dragon, Phillip. He is a dream dragon! Here, let me show you something." Very carefully, she laid her son down on his bed and brought the puppet hand to his face. Phillip glowed, knowing the dragon would not fall off the bed, or be too far away.

Moving some stray hair from his forehead, she continued. "A dream dragon can go with you in your dreams, did you know that? You can walk with him, talk with him, you can even ride on his back! Dream dragons have a very special way of helping you when you have a bad dream, too. Did you know their favorite food are bad dreams?"

Phillip's eyes grow round, "Will he breathe fire on them and roast them up first or will he grab them with his claws and shake them to bits? What's his name, does he talk dragon talk, can he teach me?"

Looking as seriously at her son, Rene answers. "The only way to have the answers to your questions, is to close your eyes and dream. If you keep your dream dragon near you, he will find you in your dream and answer all your questions."

Phillip looks to his dragon and then to Rene. "Okay, I'll try, Mommy."
"Do you want me to stay here until you fall to sleep?"
"That's alright Mommy, let's see if my dream dragon can come to me. I'll be ok."
"Alright then, I love you, sweety."
"Love you too!"

The night goes by without a cry or scream, without clutching arms or shuddering. When it is morning, Rene is amazed to discover she has had a full night's sleep, then she remembers the dream dragon. Grabbing her robe, she sets out to the kitchen and sees Phillip sitting on a chair, his dream dragon on his arm.

Looking up from his conversation with his dragon, Phillip smiles at his mother. "He is great mommy! He did everything you said he would do, he is the best dream dragon in the whole entire world! He opened his mouth and swallowed up the bad dreams. They looked like rotten oranges, so they were easy to spot. We flew to a lot of really good dreams, played hide and seek with other dragons. Mommy, I never knew so many dream dragons existed, lots of riderless dragons that need to eat bad dreams. Do you think we could tell other people about them?"

Nodding her agreement, he whooped with delight and continued his meal. After breakfast, his dragon twined around his arm, Phillip went off to play for the day. No doubt, he would be telling his friends about dream dragons.

Circa, '02

I have gotten into the habit of keeping paper and pens on the passenger seat of my car. Seems many poems want to be born while I drive. It can be annoying when I am in the fast lane and suddenly a poem pops into my head; I am lucky if I can remember it long enough to pull over to the side of the road to write it down. There was a time when I would not do this: a poem would be born while I drove and then I would play with it for awhile and then let it go on its way. When I first started writing poetry, that was fine -- the poems were not that good, and it was fun to let them ramble in my head like bowling pins.

Eventually though, the inevitable happened: while driving down the road on another long distance jaunt, a poem came into my head and it blew me away. The beauty of it was astounding, and I could not get to the side of the road fast enough to write it down. When I pulled over, the first thing I did was look for a pen -- checked the seats, the floor, the glove compartment, all the while repeating the poem in a fevered rush aloud and in my head so as not to forget it. Then I got out of the car and checked under the seats and under the cushions -- still no pen or pencil -- checked the trunk of the car and found nothing. Then I had it. I rushed to the backseat, pulled out my son's activity bag, and took a crayon out. Then I realized I had no paper, and since crayon doesn't really work on skin, I went to the window and proceeded to write the poem. It filled all the side windows and the rear one -- I was on a roll. With the poem not yet finished, I started to write on the door panel. By the time I was done I had gone through four crayons, and all but the front window was filled with colored wax words.

Relieved that I had gotten the poem down before it was forgotten, I got into the car and proceeded to drive. I found that a calm had descended upon me as the words quickly left; I was very glad I thought of the crayons. Unfortunately for me, as I relaxed into the mood of driving, it suddenly started to rain. Not the soft comforting rain that invigorates, but the downpour that is so thick you can't see ten feet in front of you. Twenty minutes of hard rain later, and with a headache the size of Texas, I pulled into a gas station to get some coffee and fill the gas tank. As I stood at the gas tank I knew something wasn't right, but it took me a few minutes to figure out what it was. Everything looked just as it should, and for some reason that bothered me very much. Going to the register I suddenly stopped and turned around to see that the reason for my concern was all too visible - or rather not visible. Not one fleck of crayon was still on the car, not even the waxy residue you usually see. I went to pay for the gas and bought some pens and a notebook. I think I sat in my car for an hour, trying to remember all that I had written, but not even one line would rematerialize. Never again would I leave my house without my notebook and pen! To this day, I still think it was the best poem I have ever written, and there is no way I will ever again be in a plight where the poem is lost due to the lack of paper or a pen.