You Want To Make A Memory – Write Naked Part 5


Another segment in my novel I started working on for NaNoWriMo. It has not been edited in any form yet, just free writing. If you want to know some back story, links are provided for previous sections. [NOTE: I had changed James’ name to Travis for the novel, but I didn’t like it, so changed it back to James – SO JAMES is Travis (parts 1-4) and if I post anymore excerpts, it is James, as he has always been in my mind. Sorry for the confusion – posted it then realized.] I have written several posts on here about Lyla, as she has been in my head for many years, since college creative writing classes. Any feedback provided would be great! Oh and if you’re interested, here’s how Lyla and James met. 🙂 

Part 1                      Part 2                      Part 3                       Part 4

After finding a nice fairly secluded spot to stop and smoke a joint, they ended up at a little local seafood place not far from there that had a nice deck outside, with a great view west of the sunset that would be coming soon. She ordered a hurricane – the house specialty. He ordered a vodka tonic, then changed his mind and got a hurricane with her.

Their drinks came, and she took a little sip, “Oh yeah, that’s some good shit, now,” she smiled. Immediately swishing the cherry around in the liquor floating on top, she took the cherry out of her drink and ate it, smiling as she did so.

He laughed at her, taking a drink of his own, and commented “Damn, there’s a tad bit of booze in that.”

“I know. I need a little pain relief,” she responded. “Though I love my new tattoo! You know we have an excellent seat for the sunset, did you notice? And I know we’ll still be here when the sun goes down, making a point of it.”

“Are we now,” he said. “Lyla, you always amuse me, and make me bust a gut often. You definitely got quite a way about you, woman. And yeah, I really like your tattoo.” He looked at her, as she was perusing the menu. “What ‘cha hungry for?”

“Not sure, it all looks good,” she announced, “so many things look yummy. What looks good to you? You want to split a couple things?”

He laughed, “What looks good to me? Lyla quit asking such loaded questions!” he continued to be amused. “Baby, it all looks good to me!” he assured her.

She just shook her head and laughed. They decided to get a couple of seafood gumbos, and split an appetizer platter with grilled shrimp stuffed with cheese and jalapenos, coconut fried shrimp, crab fingers, and some other assorted seafood goodies for them to enjoy with their drinks. After ordering, and handing the waitress their menus, he looked at her. She was gazing out at the ocean and she looked happy, peaceful, even genuinely at ease. He was glad about that. He didn’t have any hang ups about being with her, except that she’s separated, meaning she’s married to some other man. He also knows her heart is still vested in her marriage, though he has noticed she is growing weary fighting for something she is beginning to think may not happen.

She flirts with him a little, but never anything that would cross a line, and actually most of it is pretty innocent, meaning she isn’t even aware she’s doing anything that could be mistaken for the wrong idea. He is fully aware of where her heart is, and it is not with him. At least not all of it. But it’s not all with her husband either, since he decided to leave her. She is also NOT wearing her wedding ring.  Nor was she talking about her husband or their problems.

He had told her once that if she and her husband were ever over and she was free and he was free, then they would definitely have some unfinished business to attend to. She had agreed. But she wasn’t free, at least not yet.

He knew what he wanted – he wanted all of her. He wanted her to want to be with him and only him. He knew this was a tall order and possibly a pipe dream, as this might never happen. They may be destined to be friends forever, or at least as long as he allowed it. Being her friend was quite painful at times, though she was a damn good one. The pain was one of the reasons sometimes he dropped out of contact for months, even a year or so at a time.

He couldn’t ask for a better friend and she seemed to truly believe in him, too – encouraging him to always be the best he can and encouraging him to find someone special to share his life with. That always sucked, because what he really wanted to say is that there is nobody he would rather be with than her. She made it clear that she wanted him to be happy, and wanted him to have a good life – was sorry that life had dealt him the hand it had at times. BUT still, being her friend could be incredibly painful for him. But he was willing to take what she could offer, if it meant having her in his life in some way shape form or fashion. For now, he didn’t care and wondered if he ever would.

She had a cancer scare a year or so back, and he was scared to death. He called to check on her and left her a voice message. He knew his voice cracked during the message, but he didn’t care. It was genuine feeling he was displaying for her the only way he could at the time. (James had no idea Lyla still had the voice message on her phone – she couldn’t bring herself to delete it. She could hear the genuine concern and love in his voice and though she was married, she felt like it was okay to keep a simple innocent voice message from someone who she knew genuinely cared for her.) He couldn’t go visit her, and it didn’t seem appropriate to send anything, so he did what he could. He knew at the time she couldn’t talk, so he waited to hear back from her, and was so glad when she texted him that she did not have cancer. He thanked God with every ounce of his being for that one. He hoped he never lived long enough to have to say a final goodbye to her and then live on with her memory.

The food came and they were ravenous. They laughed and shared different items from the sampler platter, comparing notes on what they liked best and least. They ordered another drink, and agreed the gumbo was some of the best they had ever tasted, and between the two of them they had tasted plenty. They talked and laughed and sang with the music. Jesse had sent her a couple of nasty texts about the latest stick in their spokes causing another impasse. She had decided she was ignoring him tonight. He had hurt and degraded her enough with the way he treated her, the way he thought about her – as if he didn’t really know her.

The music was great, lots of rock, blues, and old stuff. Eric Clapton was one of the owner’s favorites, which worked great for Lyla and James, because they loved Clapton’s music too. The song “Old Love” started to play. He looked right at her and said, “Do you know how many times I have had you in my head? I never hear this song without thinking of you.” She just looked at him, not really knowing what to say all of a sudden. “I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable for me to tell you that,” he added.

Lyla thought about it for a moment, “No, you have shared many things with me over the years. I’ve said it before, I am just surprised that I never knew how you felt back then,” she responded.

“Lyla you really have no idea,” he was starting to catch a little buzz, and was wondering if he should finally tell her the part she didn’t know. She looked at him and started singing and swaying to Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young’s “Suite Judy Blue Eyes” – he loved watching her move, sway, dance, walk, whatever. It turned him on, she had a sexy way of moving her body. Though she seemed to have no idea how sensual she was, she certainly had confidence and a swagger or sway that makes a man want to go down on his knees and beg for mercy.

It amazed him that she didn’t see it. And it wasn’t just idle chit chat, she really didn’t see it, didn’t realize it, or didn’t believe it; he knew this by how she handled herself. He actually loved that about her, found that trait very intoxicating, and genuine. There was so much about her he loved, even though he didn’t know her near as well as he’d like. As an adult, she was very different, while still having the same old-soul qualities and rambunctious rebellious take no shit attitude. She still loved music and they shared other similar tastes in many things. She was smart as hell. She still had that wonderful sense of humor and compassionate spirit. She was definitely adventurous and spontaneous. He was drawn to her sarcasm and black comedic side, as well as her daughter of a sailor’s raunchy language sometimes. She was complicated in all her aspects. God, why did he love her so much, he thought. He didn’t stand a chance.

With Lyla singing to Fleetwood Mac’s  “World Turning,” James asked if she was ready for another drink, she nodded. James motioned to the waitress to bring another round, as Lyla continued to sway and sing. This round was for the sunset. It was coming within the next thirty minutes or so. They were both excited. There’s nothing much more enjoyable than leisurely sitting and watching the sun sink into the ocean at the end of the day. There’s something so cosmic and serene about it.

Their next round came and the sun had already started to sink towards the ocean. The colors were starting to fill the sky, first looking a bit like cotton candy. Then as the sun got lower – the oranges, reds, coppers. It was so stunningly beautiful, they both barely said a word, just basking in this wonderful moment of connectedness with nature, the universe, the world, and each other. They could hear the music, the birds, the wind, and the sun hitting the ocean as it began to dip into its nighttime home. The smell of the ocean and the breeze and the various other scents flitting in here and there was invigorating. They watched as the sun rather quickly made its way down until it gently and gracefully slid into the Gulf of Mexico. And then poof, it was gone. It was almost magical and majestic in a sense.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve watched the sun set, especially over the water. What a sensory experience – that was amazing,” she almost whispered, “a spiritual experience for sure.” “I’m enthralled and maybe speechless – imagine that.”

“Imagine that . . . girl, that was something, damn near religious,” he commented. “I’ve seen a lot of sunsets in a lot of places, but that was almost surreal.” He was thinking that he was not surprised since this was the first sunset they had seen together in decades. “The colors were amazing!”

“Yeah, all my favorites,” she wistfully noted, he could hear her smile.  Now it was dark, except for the decorative lighting and candles on the deck and the continued full moon. Damn she looked good in the moonlight. Lyla was thinking the same thing about James.

[Part 6 – Just Talking]

A New Year of Romantic Musings


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Here’s to the new year!! May it be full of beautiful moments, romantic interludes, and inspiring events!!

Flight – Five Sentence Fiction


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I love Five Sentence Fiction!! This is probably one of my favorite writing prompts 🙂

Five Sentence Fiction – Flight

She was nervous and excited, scared and exhilarated, and felt twenty years younger. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She hated to fly and hadn’t in decades and now she had jumped from a perfectly good airplane. Rushing into the wind, she had pulled the ripcord. Now she was flying and floating through the air like a bird, with a view that couldn’t be described.

(OOOhh  . . . maybe I’ll use this in my NaNoWriMo! 😉 )

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Write Naked People!!


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This is a little piece from my NaNoWriMo. One of my blog buds requested I post a little something – you know who you are, so you better give me some feedback!  The rest of you, please let me know what you think . . . ’cause there’s 50,000 words involved by the end 😉  I’ve been writing about Lyla for awhile – she wants to live in my words. There’s several stories involving her on here. Let me know if you’d like me to share anymore, maybe I’ll pick a racier piece. AND YES my title is deceiving in a way – just wanted to remind y’all that it’s okay to write naked – sometimes it’s even more inspiring LOL! Seriously 😉 I, on the other hand, am wearing the t-shirt I have that says Write Naked. 

Stacy picked Lyla up and they went to a nearby Mexican restaurant, where Lyla ordered her usual jumbo Patron margarita.  Stacy insisted she order some lunch since she had not eaten, and because she looked thin – she had lost at least 15 pounds in the last couple months. She started telling Stacy what had just happened, during which she started to cry right there at their table. They had a good talk about keeping busy, and Stacy reminded her that she needed to start doing things that she enjoyed.

After getting some food in her belly, and over half that margarita, she began to feel a little better. Stacy was right, she needed to do some things she enjoyed, like reading. She had several good books she could get lost in, and she planned to start one tonight once she got home. “The Astronauts’ Wives Club” was waiting for her on her nightstand – she had downloaded it to her e-reader a month or so back. Now that she was feeling semi-human again, Stacy paid the bill and dropped her back at the house.

Lyla, buzzed pretty good now, picked out some music, and turned on the pinball machine. She wanted to hit some balls. She had played several games, and had been dancing around the house to 7 Mary 3, feeling really good, when the phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number, but now in a laid back mood, decided to answer anyway.

“Hey baby! How the heck are you,” he asked. She recognized his southern drawl immediately, she always did.

“Hey Travis!” she said light heartedly. “How have you been? Haven’t heard from you in awhile.”

“Yeah, my phone’s been down. You know they make you pay for those things,” he laughed. “So how you been girl?”

She had never mentioned any trouble in her marriage to Travis, and wasn’t sure if she should. But here she was drunk, in a good mood and was tired of keeping secrets. Jesse had been gone for over two months, and other then throwing her a good time once in a while he had made no effort to come home or even act as if he still wanted to married. As a matter of fact, he was still telling the marriage counselor that he did not wish to be married to her anymore, or anyone else for that matter.

Lyla was a beautiful woman and wanted someone to share her life with – she wanted her husband, but if he didn’t want her, than she didn’t know how long she was going to sit at home by herself. She had no idea what he did when he wasn’t there and she didn’t ask. He had made it quite clear that he didn’t answer to her anymore on any level about anything. He said that was why he did not want to live with her ever again – he was never going to worry about accounting for anything with anyone ever again.

Thinking of it like that, Lyla decided to tell Travis exactly what had been going on in her life of late. She needed a friend right now and he was always a good friend to her. “Well, in all honesty, not so good Trav. I lost my job a couple months back and haven’t been able to find another one yet. Then four days after I lost my job, Jesse left me – two days after our wedding anniversary. Right now we’re separated. He says he doesn’t want to be married to me anymore. We are in counseling, and I am holding out hope. But, not real sure what’s gonna happen going forward. Worried I might have to sell the house.”

“What?” he was shocked; he had always thought they had a great marriage, or at least that’s what she had alluded to. “Lyla, I am so sorry to hear that,” he continued, “I’m sure y’all will work it out, you’ve been together too long not to.”

She told him she agreed, but it seemed her husband did not. They talked a while about his back injury earlier in the year, and other things that had been going on in their lives. The conversation was lighthearted once she told him about her circumstances and they did not dwell on that any longer than she wanted to. Her margarita buzz had kicked in full throttle at this point and she was teasing him about something.

“Girl, if you were across the table from me right now,” Travis started, and before he could finish Lyla mockingly laughed, “What, you’d kiss me?”

Catching him considerably off guard, he said, “I’d like to Lyla, but I wouldn’t. Not as long as your married – I would never put you in a compromising position. Though having said that, not sure I’d trust myself, either. I have never told you this, but you’re the woman I measured every other against my entire life. I have never forgotten you.”

“Well, no, I never knew that,” she paused, not knowing what to say to that exactly, “though my sister did say you said something kind of cryptic to her, when she saw you at the reunion, and she wondered if that‘s what you were saying. She and I talked about it. I told her I doubted that as it has been decades and you and I didn’t date that long.”

Travis said, “Well she was right. A few made quite an impression on me, but none like you. Every other woman I had serious relationships with, had the same color of eyes as you.”

Lyla teased, to lighten the moment a little, “You don’t even know what color my eyes are,” she laughed.

Travis replied, “Oh yes I do, if memory serves me correctly, they are green. Green like pine needles that have been in sun for a day or so.”

“Damn, I am impressed that you remember that so succinctly,” she said, surprised, flattered, and touched.

Flippantly, she said, “So you have a thing for green-eyed ladies.” She was trying to be funny.

“No, Lyla, that’s not it.” He continued, “I remember many of our conversations verbatim, and that hasn’t happened to me with too many people, but I remember quite a few of ours, as if they were had yesterday.”

“Would I remember any of these conversations,” she asked.

Travis replied, “You might, if we talked about it, but I am not going to do that. Those are my memories, and under the circumstances I am not willing to share them. If things were different I might.”

Lyla laughed as she said, “Like if I was on my deathbed?”

Travis responded, “No.”

It took her a few days to figure out that he meant only if somehow they were a couple would he feel free to share those memories. Though she was ballsy and direct often, that was not a subject she would ever ask about again – she understood.

[Part 2 – Want to Dance Darlin’]

[Part 3 – Moonlight Drive]

[Part 4 – Imagining What Might Have Been]

[Part 5 – You Want To Make A Memory]

Hurricane Horror – Flash Fiction Friday


Written in response to this week’s prompt from terribleminds:  The country’s in EBOLA PANIC, going so far as to elect an Ebola Czar. (Did you know that vending machines kill 13 people a year? I look forward to our new Vending Machine Czar to address this grave concern.) Disease of course freaks people out. And next Friday? Halloween. The time of horror! Which means it’s time for you to freak people out with disease. Write 1000 words of flash fiction. It should be horror. It should feature disease as an axis of that horror.

 

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Grace understood why her mother was nervous about her work, especially these days with Ebola jumping its African borders and showing up in various parts of the world, including America. When Grace got the job at the Galveston National Institutes of Health Bio Lab, she knew her family might consider it dangerous, but she thrived on the danger and the coolness factor of where she worked.

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This hurricane that popped up in the gulf at the last minute is just adding more fuel to her mother’s worry fire. The building is fortified and withstood the last major hurricane just fine, but still it is eerie to know that if something happened Ebola, Anthrax, Smallpox and other highly infectious diseases and bio-terrorism agents are housed here.  With the storm bearing down on the island, most residents were worried about evacuating, not what would be left behind in the lab they typically don’t think too much about most days.

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She gathered up a few things in her large bag and rolling carry-on, since she would be staying as part of the emergency ops team as the communication team lead. Her main job was to get info out to employees after the storm. Throwing her phone charger and a couple prescriptions and several packs of cigarettes, as well as an extra lighter in her purse. A quick stop at the store for a few personal favs for snacking and she’d be back to the bio lab facility for the duration of what was to come.

The traffic was already crazy with people doing their best to get off the island and make it inland to hole up during the storm. She was glad she wasn’t going over the causeway. Though it took twice as long to get back to the lab as it should’ve, she pulled in, parked on an upper level in the garage and grabbed her bags for the walk in. The storm maybe coming, but the weather is absolutely beautiful – as it typically is before a hurricane rolls through. She can see that the wind is kicking up though.

She got settled into her office and took a nap. She would be up tonight and the media message released pre-storm had been handled. All employees had provided contact numbers and they knew how to contact work. Surprised at how tired she was, she slept for about five hours. When she woke, she went to the ladies room to freshen up and checked her computer for any messages, before making the rounds to see how things were going.

As the eye of the storm was approaching, she decided to sneak away for a cigarette. To smoke, she had to leave the administrative area where her office was and go down underground where the labs are located. She shouldn’t be smoking inside, but she knew a safe place. After smoking about half of her cigarette, she heard it – it was eerie, made her ears hurt, gave her chills up her spine. Though she had never experienced one herself, she knew this had to be the sound of a tornado and it must be bearing down right on top of the building.

As they sound became deafening, she found a spot to take cover, and just as she got settled, the earth shook violently around her and air seemed to be sucked away, causing her to gasp just a little as she took a breath. The sound was so loud, she closed her eyes and prayed to God to keep her safe. It seemed to go on forever, but then as quickly as it came, it was gone and the air around her seemed to stabilize, making breathing easier.

As she came out from under the spot she had hidden in, she saw the sky – the building was gone, including the ceiling and walls of the lab. She could see one of the technicians was on the ground and she could also see that the freezer section of the building was blown apart, vials shattered under the weight of the beams that had fallen onto them. She could see the water was rising in the street, thanks to the almost full moon – the only light there was in the blackness.

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Several of the labs were in pieces, and two were just gone. As this storm formed in the gulf and strengthened quickly, the nominal phase down period wasn’t available, and there were experiments going on in the labs – making that material even more at risk for a containment breach. As she approached, it looked like a lot of material was now just gone – but where? Is it one piece, is it in particulates? Is it airborne, in the water, in the dirt? Where in the hell have all these samples of deadly pathogens disapeered to? How rampant and far have have they been dispersed? Being in close proximity of a major shipping port, as well as an international airport, would make it easy for these pathogens to escape this area easily. Especially true since this island is a tourist area.

Now that the eye of the storm was passing the island, she knew she needed to do her best to get the news out to her superiors. The documented containment process was of little use in this scenario. She wasn’t even sure what was left of the facility as a whole. She had to get out of the underground area and get to the building where the communications area was located.

As she got her wits about her and decided to move, she realized she was bleeding – little spots on several areas  on her arms, hands, neck and face where little shards of glass had hit her during the tornadic explosion. Thank goodness it wasn’t worse, she thought – then she remembered where those shards of glass probably came from. She knew there was a high probability that she had been exposed – to something or multiple things.

Now her mind began to race, almost in a panic, as she realized exactly the position she was in and how ALL the rules, processes, procedures, and protocols were useless now, literally out the window.

 

 HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

Dear Future


 

Dear Future,

I have no idea what you have in store for me.  Sometimes I am excited by the prospects and sometimes I am frightened by the chances. I could become a well-paid self-employed writer, then again if I don’t find a job soon I could lose my house and become homeless.  (Okay, that list could go on and on . . .)

Future, you seem to be so elusive, yet inspiring. So motivating, while at the same time uncertain. So nerve-racking, yet you make me feel so alive. Why oh why are you so unknown?

I look forward to more conversations as you continue to show yourself to me.

~ Sadie

This was written in response to The Daily Post:Writing101 writing prompt. I opened the book nearest to me to page 29 and the first word that caught my eye is the one I am to write a letter to. I am not enrolled in this session, so I didn’t have access to ping back there, but that’s okay because I enjoyed the prompt!

The Past is the Past


Sometimes through our memories and those that we share them with, the past feels alive again, and it can be exciting. After a while though, the fire burns down, and all that is left is the glowing embers of the memories, warm, cozy, and fuzzy around the edges. Through that set of rose-colored glasses, everything looks better than it was. Discovering new information about the past, the storylines in your head begin. You start rewriting scenarios, and what-ifing, what could have been, what might have been. Thoughts flash through your head that seem could have been plausible, but deep down, you know they probably weren’t. You get caught up in it for a time, but then you realize, it really is just sweet memories from the past. And the past is the past . . .

But what if some day it isn’t?

An Honest Deception ( NaPoWriMo 4-16-14)


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Using today’s NaPoWriMo prompt from Daisy Fried, – the basic idea is to write a ten-line poem in which each line is a lie. Here you go 🙂 

 

As February has 31 days

And the Sun circles the Earth ten different ways

Each morning the sun rises in the west

And your last guess is always the best

Remember people never lie

And if you live righteously you’ll never die

Being in love always lasts forever

Will the good times end – oh no never

People will always love each other

No one will ever kill another’s brother

 

©2014

I Might Have Said Yes – (Twenty Questions NaPoWriMo Writing Prompt )


 

How did I miss how strong your feelings were?

Why didn’t you keep in touch?

 

Why didn’t you ask me the question you came to ask me?

Why did you hide how you felt?

 

How could you walk away from me, without giving me a clue?

It was a long time ago, I know . . . but I might have said yes.

 

©2014

 

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[I had so much fun with this prompt, I wrote several, but only posted two.]

I also used this for my prompt for SoCS April 26/2014 at http://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/04/25/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-2614/ 

What If . . . ? (Twenty Questions NaPoWriMo Writing Prompt )


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What if I hadn’t called him?

What if he’d called me back?

What if I’d handled some things in my life differently?

What if I was someone else?

What if the sun doesn’t come up tomorrow morning? What if it never set?

What if time stopped? What if it were turned back?

What if God didn’t love me?

What if my guardian angels quit?

What if I didn’t wake up in the morning? What if I never existed?

What if I was granted second-sight?

What if I didn’t like what I saw? Then again, what if I did?

What if I’d never had the pleasure of making love?

What if I hadn’t been blessed with my child?

What if my marriage fails? What if our relationship disintegrates?

What if I won the lottery?!

What if I didn’t care?

What if I didn’t ‘what if’ all the time?

What if I was happy and satisfied?

What if my life was a disaster?

What if I was rich and famous? What if I had no friends?

What if I had no future? What if I had no plans?

What if I lost twenty pounds? What if I gained thirty?

What if I dyed my hair red? What if it turns gray?

What if I didn’t know what I know about the past?

What if he hadn’t told me how he really felt?

What if I died without knowing these things?

What if someone special hadn’t died? What if someone else had?

What if . . . what if . . . what if …?

What if my life amazes me and I amaze myself?

I can live without knowing all these things, as I have no choice!

 

©2014

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© ~ Sadie ~ and Windchimes and Dreamcatchers, 2013-2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to ~ Sadie ~ and Windchimes and Dreamcatchers with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
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