Myra gasped for air, her long, lank hair sticking to her neck like straw colored plastic wrap to day old hot dogs. She swatted at flies buzzing around her head and tried to concentrate on her breathing. The air was thick and hung around the porch like mosquito netting. Myra took a deep breath in, fanning herself with her too-thin hand.
Happy Reading!
~ Eileen 🙂
In hot pursuit, Mike dodged the shoe she threw at him as he jumped over a turned over trash can. The alley was narrow and filled with items Mike never imagined he would see. She took her clothes off as she ran, throwing her skirt and blouse at him as they charged down the dark row.
Happy Reading!
~ Eileen 🙂
Crouching near the base of the cement stairs, Magda could hear booted footsteps approaching. Shifting back into the shadows, the approaching torches were glowing, casting shadows of their bearer against the stone walls of the stairwell. She would know his profile anywhere. She unsheathed her dagger and held it firmly in her hand.
Happy Reading!
~ Eileen 🙂
“Is that what I am to you? Charity?!” Spittle flew from his mouth.
She was startled by his anger but dared not respond. He was most dangerous when he yelled like this. Angry, but not being loud.
He stepped closer, his fetid breath washing over her face.
“Well?” He said, his eyes hot embers of fury.
Happy Reading!
~ Eileen 🙂
I was afraid. Afraid my feelings were unfounded.
I lifted the tarp and saw the smooth shape of the convertible’s wheel wells beneath.
Pulling the tarp back further, a wave of foul odor hit my face like a brick. I could see a foot extended over the back seat into the front.
Happy Reading!
~ Eileen 🙂
“For the last time, Mama, I’m not a hair dresser. I’m a stylist!”
“Stylist? Don’t go puttin’ on airs, Daughter Mine. You’re a hair dresser. Just like your no good Meemaw was.”
Tara felt hot tears running down her face.
“Meemaw was not no good, Mama.” She said in a low voice, eyes averted. “You are.”
Happy Reading!
~ Eileen 🙂
I am heartbroken.
I have never been effected by the death of a celebrity as I am by the death of Robin Williams. He has been my favorite actor since I was a kid watching reruns of Mork and Mindy. He was a talent that could not be matched and a heart that could not be mended. As an adult, I learned of his battles with bipolar disorder, depression, drugs and alcohol and my heart went out to him. I am not one who normally follows celebrities but those I am especially fond of, I like to learn of their personal lives and what kind of people they are. Robin, though generous and caring, was not the type of person to widely publicize his good deeds, preferring to keep them private. That alone spoke highly of his character.
When I watched the movie Patch Adams, I felt like I was seeing into his soul, like that movie was about him and who he was. A caring man who gives happiness to others while struggling to hold his own troubles hidden. I felt numb at the news of his death and immediately rejected the initial announcement that he had killed himself. I thought there must be some mistake and that it was an accident of some kind. It pained me to think of this man in so much pain that he decided to end it himself.
Today, I read the announcement of his initial autopsy results and I was in tears. Still, a part of me wants to believe that someone killed him, that he was not responsible for taking himself from this world. I recognize that I am in denial, but why? I did not personally know this man. I have never met him or seen him in public as people from all over the world are posting. I had no personal connection to him or his life. And then I realized that I did have a connection.
Robin was a rarely talented man who had the power and passion to speak to me as a person. My favorite movie of all time, Dead Poets Society, was so powerful and moving. He was a leader and confidant to those young men in need of guidance. He was a voice of reason and inspiration in a time of my life when I needed both. Every movie of his I watch I feel his touch, his presence and the power of his spirit. There are no half-assed performances with Robin Williams. He gave his all every time. Perhaps he gave too much of himself.
My deepest and heartfelt condolences go out to his family and friends. I know the hole in your heart is a million times bigger than the one in mine and I wish you peace.
~ Eileen
“I can’t.” Marie’s eyes dropped to the ground. Her pale hands were clasped in front of her, the red nails looking suddenly garish in the waning light.
“You can’t or you won’t? I know it’s difficult.” Michael put a gentle finger under her chin and tipped her face up. He met her eyes and smiled.
“I can’t.” She smiled with menace and Michael’s spine tingled in fear.
Happy Reading!
~ Eileen 🙂
Once her chores were done, Melody set out to shower and get ready. Passing the mirror in her bedroom, her eye caught the picture of Chad in the lower corner and her heart began to pound. Just a few hours until their first date. She smiled and waved to his picture as she skipped into the attached bathroom and undressed. She stepped into the shower and reached for the shampoo.
Happy Reading!
~ Eileen 🙂
So I challenged myself to go to Oneword.com and write a short poem in 60 seconds using whatever word popped up. I was stunned for a moment when ‘ski’ was my word. But I think it turned out ok in the end. Here’s my ‘ski’ poem. Let me know what you think.
To ski, to fly
Down powdered lanes
Of glistening white
To fly, to race
Letting your weight
And instinct lead
To race, to see
Obstacles racing near
A blur as you pass
To see, to feel
The freedom of your flight
The oneness with the mountain
To feel, to love
The solidarity
One light, one night.
Eileen Maki 