Unexpected Tranquility

         The long windy dirt road would make you worry. Weaving through the green of summer, you would be confused as to where this road may lead. “This isn’t where you kill me, is it?” I asked. He grinned, “Just be patient.” Coming up to a sharp and narrow hill he honked the horn. I looked over as he told me, “You have to honk to make sure no one else is coming.” ‘Good to know,’ I thought. We soon arrived to two stone pillars and a gate across our path. I was now beginning to see the life that was ordained within the forest walls: stone buildings, tennis courts, and boats. He held his card up to the scanner and the gate rose. We pulled down the rocky path and parked amongst the other cars. Walking down to the dock I took a deep breath, breathing in the sweet summer air. There was a slight breeze blowing. It’s hard to imagine that a place could have a feel, but it did. It was as if my backpack full of worries, insecurities, burdens, and fears had been abolished. Several small boats danced in the water. He jumped in the boat gaining his sea legs then held out his hand to help me gain my balance. There was a peace about the lake that felt serene to me. Elderly couples sat on their docks and waved as we drove by. Children giggled and little girls laughed as they jumped off the dock holding hands. As we switched to a kayak, I felt like I was literally sitting on the water. We paddled slowly as the sunset fell on the lake and the stars came alive. While this new lake community was only brand new to me, it was important because it is where my best friend calls home.

Unneeded Bus Route

            As much as Andy didn’t need the old bus route, he kept it just the same. He did not need the money either but the small amount he did earn went straight to charity, never even touched his fingertips. He was a retired very successful business man, and after throwing his life, relationships, and all he knew away for the job, he realized he wasn’t very successful at all. He enjoyed watching the children and seeing their growth over the 180 day school year. Mondays through Fridays were like clockwork. 4:30 am he grumbled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. He’d rub his dreary eyes. After relieving himself, he washes down the handful of pills that old people take. At 4:37 he slowly dresses himself, old broken in Wranglers, thick socks pulled all the way up, and a sweatshirt. He enjoyed not having to wear suit after suit day after day anymore. 4:50 He would then walk down the wooden stairs, knees crackling. At 5 am, He pours himself his first cup of coffee, he always drinks it black. He would then grab the red leash from the laundry room and attach it to his old black lab’s matching collar. She was a good girl, Lucy, greeting him each morning with a wagging tail. 5:02, “Rocket,” he’d call, expecting the dog to come running. He’d then realize that Rocket had long since passed away and he’d call, “Lucy! Ready for your walk?” She’d then come running, happy to see him. Rocket was the best dog Andy had ever owned. He’d never forget the day they’d got her. He and Elise were still married then, Andy was so excited to give him to Elise for her 28^th birthday. She’d always wanted a dog, Elise was so excited. 5:05, pulling on his old sneakers, Andy and Lucy walked out the back door and down the driveway. They’d then walk synchronized down the windy street engulfed by the forest. By the time they would return the paper would be waiting in the driveway. They’d return inside, Andy making breakfast – three eggs, 2 slices of whole wheat toast, and 4 pieces of bacon. Lucy waiting patiently by her bowl would whimper, waiting for breakfast, and hopefully a scrap or two. 5:45, he’d then feed her and sit down with his breakfast and second cup of coffee. Monday through Friday, every morning, it was clockwork.

The Music of My Best Friend

The strum of your friendship
is the acoustic joy to my heart.
Your sense of humor, never flat,
can always make me laugh.
You're the soloist among the symphony,
surpassing all the rest.
The tune of your heart in harmony
with mine conducts a sweet melody.
Just like chords, our friendship is unchangable,
yet each moment we are togetherm produces
a new song for our album.
The playlist grows with each new beat of our hearts.
As long as the symphony of time carries on,
the music of my best friend will flow.

Beating Broken based on a painting by Rembrandt

She searches the waters for her reflection
Searching for the days that used to be care free.
When she was happy. Hopeful. Enthusiastic.
 The ripples contort her reflection,
but they still can’t hide the bruises.
She’s searching. Searching for answers.
Answers to why? Why whiskey is his oxygen?
Why he beats her? hates her? uses her?
They were happy. loving. living.
She holds onto the promises of tomorrow.
So she stares, deep into the waters.
Deep into her soul.

hunter is cool.

this is my second post dedicated to hunter. who looks like a hunter in his plaid shirt today. lookin' pretty fresh.

October 4, 2011

My very first creative writing blog! WOOOO! I am a fan of blogging. I prefer Tumlbr though -___- but we can't always get what we want...hehe...I think Tumblr might be school "illegal" anyway. Creative Writing has been so good so far! I've been able to create my college personal statement without even realizing it! :) Hooray! I'm looking forward to all the great pieces we'll be producing. My favorite quote of the period from Nick to Hunter: "The sound of flab failed you." hahahaha!