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Friday, June 29, 2012

Wren's Adventure


Phillip pushed himself upright, against the walls of his prison.  He'd never imagined his most trusted adviser would turn against him, yet, it had happened.  He didn't know who he could trust or turn to for help.  Then, he recalled his dream.  A dream of a little bird, called a wren, coming to his rescue.

He wasn’t sure how he knew the bird’s name.  It wasn’t one he had ever heard of before but he knew, and that gave him hope.  Climbing the stone wall up to the narrow window, he called, “Come, little wren, come – help me!”

The voice startled her.  Standing, she looked around but could see no one.  As she brushed her knees off and exchanged seed packets, she heard his voice again, “Rescue me!”

“Where are you?” she looked about.

“I’m up here – in the tower.  Come wren, you can help me.  I know you can,” the voice pleaded with her.

“I’m coming!  But I can’t see you – keep talking!”

***

“Are you up there?”  It was the voice from his dream – the voice of the wren.  “I’ve come as far as I can.  This door won’t budge!”

She sounded scared.  Lost.  “It’s never been opened in my life time.”

“Is there any way you can pull up on it?” she asked.

“There is a ring on this side of the door,” he returned, “But I have tried it many times.  It does no good.”

“Pull it away from the hinges,” she instructed.  “There is a hook down here, and it is jammed.”

Pulling steadily, the door slid towards him.  There was a bit of rattling, and an exclamation, followed by her clear voice, “It’s free!  I think you can open it now!”  As he leaned it against the wall slender hands reached through the opening and then a cobweb covered head pushed its way into his world and into his heart.

Shakily, she pulled herself on to the floor and lay there, resting.  “I hate ladders.  Thank you so much for opening that thing up!”

“Thank me?” he burst out, “Thank you for coming!  Thank you for caring!”  Sinking to the floor beside her, he engulfed her in a hug, crushing her to his chest, “Oh, I knew you would come.  I knew you would.  Let’s get out of here!”
Releasing her, Phillip practically flew down the ladder stairway.  He couldn’t believe she had come, and yet he could.  He had always known she would… his dreams always came true – eventually.  That is why he had spent years preparing for this moment, yet, it wasn’t at all the way he had imagined it would be.

Stopping in a room, “There are a few things I want out of here.” He glanced at Wren, she was even more beautiful than he had imagined she would be, flushed with excursion, covered with cobwebs and debris, waiting patiently for him, “And then we can get going.”

She nodded, turning to look out the window.  The sun was hanging low in the sky, indicating that it was near evening.  All day – she had been in the castle all day?  It had to be so.

***

“Stick close to me,” he cautioned, as he began to work his way around the pool.  He hugged the wall tightly, feeling his way along.  Wren kept right on his tail, unsure if she should be following this stranger, yet unwilling to leave him.  About two thirds of the way around, he stepped into a crack in the wall.  She glanced backwards, and then followed him.  Moments later they were pushing their way past a lilac bush, outside under the starry sky.

Thankful for the full moon, they raced down the hill to a narrow foot path that he was obviously familiar with.  Following it, they crossed the valley she had seen for the upstairs window and then climbed to the top of a small butte.  The butte stood high above the surrounding country.  From its top they could see the castle and a small town about five miles distant.  A river separated them from the town, but peer as she might, Wren could see no bridges.

As she surveyed the land, Phillip gathered sticks and dry grass, depositing them into a well used fire ring that was dug into the mouth of a small cave.  He lit the fire and then continued to gather fuel.  Figuring that was where he planned to spend the night, Wren ventured in.

Looking in, “Are you ready to go?  Let’s be gone!”  He quickly skirted the cave, running along the brim of the butte.  Soon they reached an animal trail that zigzagged to the bottom of the ravine and along the river.  They followed it in silence until they came to a foot path that was wide enough for them to walk abreast.  Looking over his shoulder at the butte he smiled, “They will be able to see that for miles!”

Running.  Escaping.  Strangers, bound by circumstance, held by love.  She rescued him, when he had no one.  He led her across country, to a new home -- a new way of life.

Trusting.  Meek.  Wren stood by him.

Cunning, brutal, ever one step ahead, Phillip adored her.

Only she could change him and restore his honor.

*---*---*---*---*---*---*

 Word Count: 880

Friday, June 22, 2012

Wren's Adventure


Phillip pushed himself upright, against the walls of his prison.  He'd never imagined his most trusted adviser would turn against him, yet, it had happened.  He didn't know who he could trust or turn to for help.  Then, he recalled his dream.  A dream of a little bird, called a wren, coming to his rescue.

He wasn’t sure how he knew the bird’s name.  It wasn’t one he had ever heard of before but he knew, and that gave him hope.  Climbing the stone wall up to the narrow window, he called, “Come, little wren, come – help me!”

The voice startled her.  Standing, she looked around but could see no one.  As she brushed her knees off and exchanged seed packets, she heard his voice again, “Rescue me!”

“Where are you?” she looked about.

“I’m up here – in the tower.  Come wren, you can help me.  I know you can,” the voice pleaded with her.

“I’m coming!  But I can’t see you – keep talking!”

***

“Are you up there?”  It was the voice from his dream – the voice of the wren.  “I’ve come as far as I can.  This door won’t budge!”

She sounded scared.  Lost.  “It’s never been opened in my life time.”

“Is there any way you can pull up on it?” she asked.

“There is a ring on this side of the door,” he returned, “But I have tried it many times.  It does no good.”

“Pull it away from the hinges,” she instructed.  “There is a hook down here, and it is jammed.”

Pulling steadily, the door slid towards him.  There was a bit of rattling, and an exclamation, followed by her clear voice, “It’s free!  I think you can open it now!”  As he leaned it against the wall slender hands reached through the opening and then a cobweb covered head pushed its way into his world and into his heart.

Shakily, she pulled herself on to the floor and lay there, resting.  “I hate ladders.  Thank you so much for opening that thing up!”

“Thank me?” he burst out, “Thank you for coming!  Thank you for caring!”  Sinking to the floor beside her, he engulfed her in a hug, crushing her to his chest, “Oh, I knew you would come.  I knew you would.  Let’s get out of here!”

Running.  Escaping.  Strangers, bound by circumstance, held by love.  She rescued him, when he had no one.  He led her across country, to a new home -- a new way of life.

Trusting.  Meek.  Wren stood by him.

Cunning, brutal, ever one step ahead, Phillip adored her.

Only she could change him and restore his honor.

*---*---*---*---*---*---*

 Word Count: 440

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Make Me Thankful

My prayer today is that I wouldn't be thankful in theory only, but also in practice.  It is easy for me to say I am thankful, and I believe I am, but then I see the ugly side of me that is prone to gripe and complain over the littlest things.  That is not what I want to be.

Yesterday, my husband had the day off work, and instead of just enjoying the time together, I got upset over the way breakfast went.  Then I was frustrated with his indecision over how to spend the day.  The boys went and mowed a couple of lawns, which was great -- they did their job without needing to be told, but hubby asked me all sorts of questions that I didn't have answers for.  Again, I was upset with him... he helps the boys start a business, then expects that I know what is going on with it.  The children came back, and I found other things to complain about...

It was at this point in time, as my husband is asking me, "Honey, what's wrong?" that I realized what a horrible person I was being.  I have so many things to be grateful for and happy about, and there I was, griping and making others miserable.

Just from the paragraphs above:
  1. Time off work, for rest and relaxation.
  2. Breakfast -- we had plenty of food.
  3. Multiple choice of what we do with our time.
  4. The boys have a business!
  5. My husband trust me.  He trusts me with the children.  He trusts me with the guidance of the home, and he trusts me to handle the boys business.
  6. No, our yard is not perfect, but hell, we have a yard!
  7. My husband loves me.
I don't want to be an ungrateful, miserable woman.  My man works hard to make life so beautiful for us.  I want to make life just as beautiful for him.  <3

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

More Flowers and Butterflies


I planted these five or six years ago, and didn't realize they were still growing.

Monday, June 18, 2012

I'm Insulted!

The other day my husband received a letter in the mail that looked somewhat interesting.  There was no return address and printed on the front, in a crooked manner were the words, "Domestic First Class."  Knowing how he is about opening anything that he doesn't absolutely have to (and figuring it to be junk mail) I opened it.

Right at the top, in one big paragraph, it says:
"Kevin, please forgive us, but we have just taken a closer look at your profile.
What profile?  The last time my husband filled out a profile was more than 10 years ago, for a place that would identify themselves if they were contacting him...
It turns out you're more special than any of us imagine!  Did you know that you possess some very rare, hidden traits?  In fact, there is a famous person (someone you would instantly recognize, he's on TV every night)
We don't watch TV...
who possesses these same special, incredibly rare traits.   ...It turns out that people who possess these same rare and often hidden traits that you do are some of the most famous and successful people on this planet!
There are people on other planets?
Kevin, you are indeed blessed!
I think he already knows that -- he brags to everyone about his family...
I know those around you don't know this yet,
Excuse me, there is a reason I married him!
but they will!  Down deep, you sense it, too.  Right?  I'm so excited for you!"
Yeah.  I bet you are!  Flipping to the back of the letter, to see who it is from, I find a single name:  John.  How original! Okay.  So I use a pen name too, and only a first name.  No big deal, except I am not claiming to know you, have had previous interactions with you or know something wonderful about you.

So, back to the front page.
This is a personal letter just to you.  Notice: this is not a mass mailing...
Is that why your signature is computer generated, John?
Picking up the envelope, I see $ 0.374 for postage.  Sure, it says first class, but that is a reduced rate... 
There has existed for many years an exclusive association, a secret society, of some of the world's most famous and powerful people.  These include renowned actors and musicians, leading scientists and intellectuals, self-made entrepreneurs and artists, millionaires, professional gamblers, Casanovas, statesmen.  Many of these people you would instantly recognize.
So, John, you are asking Kevin to join the Rockefellers?  I really doubt James Hetfield or Bon Jovi subscribed to your secret society program...  And we know more than a few 'self-made entrepreneurs, artists, and millionaires' -- should we go ask them about this?  I mean, we have the letter as proof of how wonderful he is!  Heck, he even knows a few actors and statesmen.  Who should we ask first?

At this point I quit reading and began skimming.  Seven more pages of non-information seem to follow, and then the kicker:
[    ] I, Kevin, feel that something astounding is about to happen in my life!  The association has discovered me.  I possess very special and rare traits.  Because of these traits, the association is willing to accept my membership and send me their Greatest Kept Secrets that lead to enormous wealth, love and the most phenomenal personal abilities, absolutely free...
After skimming through this amount of nonsense, all I could think was Wow John, you dare to insult my husband by insinuating he is part of an extreme group, pardon me, exclusive group that can tolerate massive amounts of bullshit and be flattered by it?  You really don't know my husband!

Oh... I missed this before, but it explains so much (I'm sorry for insulting you before, John):
Although my lawyer will not let me reveal my name, many of you have watched my late-night television talk show.  Today I live a lifestyle most people only dream about.  I drive a $200,000 Mercedes and live in a magnificent $3 million mansion.
Of course -- you can't tell us who you are, because of your lawyer! Forgive me, but I don't buy it... unless it is for the lawsuits you are trying to avoid, after sending out this letter.  And 'magnificent $3 million mansion'?  I've been in several $3 million homes.  They're not that impressive -- at least not around here.  Okay, so they are much nicer than my home, but for $3 million, they're not impressive.

The $15 - $50 million homes I've been in -- those are impressive.  What's really impressive is owning several and not living in them.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Wren's Adventure


Phillip pushed himself upright, against the walls of his prison.  He'd never imagined his most trusted adviser would turn against him, yet, it had happened.  He didn't know who he could trust or turn to for help.  Then, he recalled his dream.  A dream of a little bird, called a wren, coming to his rescue.

He wasn’t sure how he knew the bird’s name.  It wasn’t one he had ever heard of before but he knew, and that gave him hope.  Climbing the stone wall up to the narrow window, he called, “Come, little wren, come – help me!”

The voice startled her.  Standing, she looked around but could see no one.  As she brushed her knees off and exchanged seed packets, she heard his voice again, “Rescue me!”

“Where are you?” she looked about.

“I’m up here – in the tower.  Come wren, you can help me.  I know you can,” the voice pleaded with her.

“I’m coming!  But I can’t see you – keep talking!”

Running.  Escaping.  Strangers, bound by circumstance, held by love.  She rescued him, when he had no one.  He led her across country, to a new home -- a new way of life.

Trusting.  Meek.  Wren stood by him.

Cunning, brutal, ever one step ahead, Phillip adored her.

Only she could change him and restore his honor.

*---*---*---*---*---*---*

Word Count: 220



Doubling the stories length this week didn't give me half the room I thought it would to move it along.  There are so many ideas in my mind, I am finding it hard to be economical with the words.  I am also wondering how much longer I can stick with the original wording...

Phase three of Building a Short Story, by Alex Crabtree.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Seven Things I am Thankful for...

1.  My husband, who can pick me up, squeeze me and make my back feel all better (my own personal chiropractor).
2.  YouTube.
3.  Friends that I can bounce ideas and feelings off of, when things aren't making sense to me.
4.  Well behaved children.
5.  My two dogs, who encourage random people to stay out of our yard.
6.  Good food.
7.  All the little things others do for me -- little things that make life nicer.