Calling all writers here at Queenonline.....

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Calling all writers here at Queenonline.....

Postby RynaBelle9*7 » Mon Aug 08, 2016 3:52 am

I have been thinking about beginning a creative little thread since I have been here on this website. Anyway, I am a writer. I love to write fiction, mostly short stories, and I am working on two books. One I have decided to self-publish and it is on my blog and another that was just born about two weeks ago. It is my dream to make writing my life, eventually. I am working on it now, honing my own style, and weaving it into my daily life.

So I thought it might be fun to come together with some of the writers here in the forums and create a thread where we could write shorts, essays, or whatever else you would like to write about. My idea came about last night after a wonderful evening with my fiance'. We were driving the back roads to just get out and about, talking and enjoying each other's company when the idea to begin this thread hit me.

Here is the plan. I will start it off to prove that I am serious and willing to share some of my own writing with you all.
The way we should do this (keep in mind this is not a set in stone rule) is to begin a post with a song, a painting, an article, a memory, a photo, or something that inspired your writing, etc...and post it first, and, then, write the story that came to mind. Make it a short story, we can't have chapters on here for obvious reasons. This will help us keep our creative juices flowing. WE can also inspire one another. This will be fun! So the only question is: Are you down? If so, let's get it going.
Last edited by RynaBelle9*7 on Mon Aug 08, 2016 6:33 am, edited 1 time in total.
"I love you for your silence, I love you for your peace, the still and calm releases, that sweep into my soul, that slowly take control." ~Precious Freddie Mercury
 
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Re: Calling all writers here at Queenonline.....

Postby RynaBelle9*7 » Mon Aug 08, 2016 4:50 am

Now, I will post a Queen song first as the first short story for this thread. It seems right. :biggrin: Music inspires me to write. I utilize the inspiration I derive from music to drive my writing and then something just takes over and I just keep going. It is amazing how it just happens for me once I am in that zone. So here goes! This first post is very intimate as this song could only cause. It is from the core of my very being and it is also inspired, in part, by a dream I had about Freddie Mercury a few weeks ago.

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The walls are red like the deepest blood. Arterial blood...to be exact. I mean that was as far as I could tell by the limited lighting in the room. A curtain blew furiously in the breeze that would come and go, to and fro, twisting, and ruffling. There was an approaching storm on the horizon. I could feel it. Candles on a bedside table flickered, yet, held the flames, maybe, the distance was safe enough from the balcony door that was halfway open. It was an empty room, yet, still, alive in an undefinable way. There was a presence that couldn't be seen, only sensed.
A grand piano graced a corner with small table nearby that a single chalice wine glass and a bottle of Merlot sat on. That is my drink of choice, normally. It was like a temptation. It beckoned me to walk toward it, but, I stayed put. Frozen... The atmosphere was fuzzy or smoky or sort of hazy. I couldn't discern, for certain. A television that took up the entire wall in front of the bed played some sort of classic black and white movie, quietly. The movie was blurry and very difficult to make out what it was.
The curtains started twisting sort of violently. I knew I had to make a choice right then. I ran across the room to try to close the balcony door. I was almost halfway there when I fell hard, crashing down to my hands and knees. I felt weighed down like I had been dropped down to the floor. Up until this point, I had been paralyzed with uncertainty, standing in a doorway, entering from an origin I couldn't recall. I had just been observing everything. The moment I chose to become an active participant was the moment I felt the presence of a foreign energy get stronger and tower over me. My eyes had been open but my soul had taken it's time to warm up to the exotic aura the room seemed to be filled with.
The candles blew out as a gust of forceful wind came rushing through. The television flipped and surged through several channels. After which, nothing but silence and darkness enveloped me. Still feeling weighted down to the floor like gravity had chained me down and kept me still, all of the sudden, the television came on but only with a snowy picture. It was as if all the networks had went off air. The colorful picture was not on and all that was left was the white snowy fuzz. A high pitched ringing, like a siren or a tea kettle boiling over, steadily became louder and louder. I put my hands over my ears. What seemed to be the characteristics of a face began to appear through the snowy picture. I peered at it, like it was a keyhole in the dark, trying to make sure that I was really seeing what I thought I was. I closed my eyes tightly and reopened them. The face was clearer. Then, a voice, clear as day, began speaking to me. A male voice and the words would come through as the ringing would fade.
I felt freed from the grasp of gravity's chains and I stood up. I walked up to the television screen. I wanted to get closer to the face. Any apprehension I had felt previously, had vanished, just like that. The exotic energy became comforting and soothing. I was not afraid. The high pitched sound stopped abruptly. The piano began to play by itself. The television switched off. It was suddenly dark again. I stood there, in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do next. The initial thought was to maybe walk away, but, I didn't want to. Besides, where would I go? I didn't know where the doorway lead to as I couldn't even remember how I came to be standing at the threshold of it in the first place. I decided to step closer to the piano. With each step, I took a deep breath to control my calm and togetherness. My heart was fluttering a wonderful thump that jumped into my throat.
The music stopped. The storm was upon me. I could hear the thunder. The wind, however, as vicious as it had been earlier, died down to a slight breeze. Lightening flashed and residual lights leftover in the room such as the alarm clock face surged a bit. I felt the energy I had grown fascinated with move right through me. Every hair on my body stood up and the feeling was so deep and so profound that I felt my eyes roll back. I couldn't control the way my head flung back. Flinging back so hard that I was standing with my chest opened and arms outward. My spine cracked all the way to the middle of my back. I felt myself open up and receive the presence. I wanted it...as I stood there feeling the motion through the fibers of my being, I could hear a voice again...beeeep, beeep, beeep....I shuddered and forced my eyes open. I took in a sharp and shaken breath. I sat up and slammed my hand onto the top of my alarm.
I jotted down some details to remember about such a dream once I realized it was just a dream. Reality was bright like a morning sun shining in my eyes. I had fifteen minutes to get ready for my day. I showered, brushed my teeth in the shower, threw on my day's attire, spritzed perfume on my wrists, grabbed my bag, and began making my way through my hallway to get to the front door. As I passed a mirror that I keep in the hallway, I saw a glimpse of light flicker. I stopped to look into the mirror to see if I had bags under my eyes from restless sleep. I never dream. I wanted to chalk it off as a strange event but as I was looking into the mirror at my drowsy eyes, something compelled me to say, "I am you." A quiet voice whispered back inside my mind, "and you are me."
"I love you for your silence, I love you for your peace, the still and calm releases, that sweep into my soul, that slowly take control." ~Precious Freddie Mercury
 
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Freddie Mercury, you are my muse! Infinitely

      
 
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Re: Calling all writers here at Queenonline.....

Postby RynaBelle9*7 » Mon Aug 08, 2016 5:54 am

To demonstrate my uber seriousness, I will post one more NOW!


This one was inspired by the song, "Back to Manhattan" by Norah Jones.

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As I walked on the concrete, so wet with dew. The steam was rising up and the scent was undeniably nostalgia-inducing. I tried to put as much distance between myself and the dilapidated, ancient building I had just been inside of. I continued to walk, with urgency, and it occurred to me, everything I should have said. I took a glance behind me to ensure that I was still walking alone. The stars hung in the sky like the time my dad had placed glow-in-the-dark stickers in an arrangement above my bed when I was very small. I felt the bars of a cradle around me. I felt trapped and suspended in the moment. I still felt the insistence to escape, to evade... Go away, ghosts, I thought to myself.
The scents of the dampened pavement and the alcohol on my breath snapped me back and I became so acutely aware of a freedom I've only ever fantasized possible. The breeze picked up and a piece of paper blew up and teased my clumsy feet. To this day, I cannot ascertain exactly what compelled me to do so, but I bent down and picked it up. It looked like a snippet from an old newspaper. It was fragile and folded. I opened it ever so gently. The alleyway I was in was so dark I could barely see my own feet. Even in an inebriated state of mind, I walked with confidence. My feet moved as if they knew, precisely, where they were going. I could do nothing but follow leaving my mind behind.
Some light began to shine from the upcoming streetlights. I walked just enough into the streams of illumination.
I stood within the darkened shadows and a beam of orange-red light shone onto my hands like a spotlight. I held the paper up enough to read and it said, "has been released". Coincidence? Maybe so......
"I love you for your silence, I love you for your peace, the still and calm releases, that sweep into my soul, that slowly take control." ~Precious Freddie Mercury
 
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Freddie Mercury, you are my muse! Infinitely

      
 
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Re: Calling all writers here at Queenonline.....

Postby RynaBelle9*7 » Wed Aug 10, 2016 4:47 am

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The Seduction.

He walked up to me out of the light he had been standing in all evening. I had been standing there with him much of the evening. There were voices all around. “How do you think it all went?” “Let’s get out of this get-up and I will tell you,” I said with a wink. He smiled at me…

Two hands came at the puppets to place them into their usual box. The sweat was pouring off the puppeteer’s face. He looked tired and worn.

The darkness began for both of us. It was all encompassing and I touched the side of his face with a gentle stroke. “One day, I will capture you,” he whispered to me as we lay close together in the velvet of the cushions all around us. I just breathed in a deep sigh of relief that the night was over and I was within the walls of the shell we had become so accustomed to, alone, with him. “I…” was all I could say before I felt his hand on lips. “Shhhh, don’t say it, my love,” he breathed into my neck. At the first opportunity, I said, “all is well, sweet you.” This is what I always said after every evening we had to stand under the lights strapped to those wretched wires that gave our bodies permission to move.

The puppeteer dropped the box into his trunk and the roaring of an engine revved up. Another night of entertaining people, masses of people, and their faces all blur together. From one night to the next, he couldn’t remember a single person. After a while, they all look the same. He wiped sweat from his forehead and turned on the air in his car. The show had been successful and he was ready to go to the local pub to have a nightcap before going home to try and turn in. For several nights now, sleep had eluded him and he could never truly get enough relaxation to drive away the nightmares that haunted him on a nightly basis. A sleep deficit became obvious under his grey eyes. All he wanted was to make the dreams go away. They made him feel so guilty but he couldn’t figure out what he truly had to have so much grief about. Regardless of his inclination and wondering, the dreams were there anyhow, haunting his every day and night.

The darkness was becoming black and a roaring or buzzing began under our bodies. We were used to the sounds of the buzzing every night that we were in the lights. Getting sleep was probably the best idea. Yet, he couldn’t keep his hands off of my body, running his fingertips over every curve and softness of me, and breathing deeply. Heat began to flush my cheeks as I felt his breath move in a soft and teasing manner against my neck. I couldn’t blame him for the way he felt. The darkness that held us close together was pressing and we had very little room to move apart. Every hair on my neck stood up and I could feel tiny goosebumps form all over. My legs went weak and I felt his hands move through my hair. I would never let him kiss me and I didn’t understand why I always held back. The feeling of his hands and breath on me made me feel out of control. My clothing started slipping down and off of my body. I felt his breath move into my mouth and I pulled it into me as deeply as I could. Tiny droplets of my sweat fell onto him and I imagined them meshing with his the way his hands interlocked into mine when we moved together and our souls would switch back and forth into one another.

The car stopped and the puppeteer went inside of the pub with an anxiousness that made his insides shake. He had never been a drinker until recently. Since the dreams began, all he could do was drink in attempts to get some kind of relief. Although it really just tied him down to the bed with intense spinning and dizziness, he felt drinking a few before bed really helped, Not to be able to move and feel the horrible guilt that he was haunted by was the objective anyway. Sitting at the bar, right in front of the bartender, he asked for an Old Fashioned to start with.

Without control any longer, I couldn’t resist the feeling and felt compelled to just kiss him anyhow. I grabbed his hands and pushed them down onto both side of him to try to restrain him. I bent down slowly and he tried to turn his head. I put my knees on his forearms and grasped his face between my hands, holding it still. I stole his kiss. We had been so afraid for too long. He grabbed my hands which caused me to fall forward, deeper into his kiss. We slipped into each other like delving into a deep ocean. I closed my eyes and so did he. We felt such a powerful jolt between us. It was not unlike lightening. Blinding white electricity flashed through our conjoined bodies. We were like Siamese twins as one linked at the middle section. The light was so rapid. It was an explosion that burned our silhouette into the walls around us, in every direction. All of the sudden there was light everywhere. I felt the strings that held us to a wooden cross handle break loose. We both fell backward and busted through the darkness like it was nothing but clouds.

The puppeteer was enjoying his drink and the feeling of being lost in his own world that he didn’t really notice that everyone around him was scattering to the few windows at the door to look outside. Two flashes of light had been somewhat noticeable in his peripheral vision. He wasn’t really shocked by it and little did he know that it was his car, parallel parked in the front of the pub, that had exploded inside the trunk and the hood had blown open. A woman and a man emerged from the trunk wrapped in silvery blankets.

We noticed light from above us that illuminated the darkness. We jumped out into the cool air. We were wrapped up in silky blankets that felt so amazing against the skin. People were staring at us from all around. We looked at each other and just knowing what we thought, without any words being said, we grabbed one another’s hand and ran quickly away into the city lights. Where we would go, we had no idea. We were one and we were finally freed from the strings that held us down.
"I love you for your silence, I love you for your peace, the still and calm releases, that sweep into my soul, that slowly take control." ~Precious Freddie Mercury
 
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Freddie Mercury, you are my muse! Infinitely

      
 
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Re: Calling all writers here at Queenonline.....

Postby RynaBelle9*7 » Sun Aug 28, 2016 3:22 am

First off, I must say, Wow!, I am so impressed with this song! I am intrigued and filled with wonder. This song is so deep and fills me with inspiration as a mother and a teacher! Thank you, Brian May, for such a beautiful creation you have given to the world! I love the beauty and wonderment that this song provokes and this story was inspired by it!

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"This is a photo of the planet Jupiter, class! Oh my, I love how Malachi is sitting so quietly and paying attention to the smart board. How are you feeling Joey? Oh no, Julie, would you care to share with the class what you are dreaming about?" Ms. Roth asked as she began her lesson on the planets, the focus for the day, being Jupiter. Julie looked up when she realized that all the little eyes and Ms. Roth was staring right at her. "Ummmm, well, I.....what was the question?" Little Julie replied as her cheeks turned sort of pink. She reached up with her plump, little, five year old hands and pushed her strawberry colored hair back behind her ears. This was something she did when she was nervous. Her cheeks started turning a bit red at this point. "Oh dear, began Ms. Roth, I fear that Julie wasn't looking at Jupiter like the rest of us and that makes me sad."

"Oh my, Julie, I believe we were all talking about Jupiter and looking at the picture that I have on the smart board. Could you possibly tell us what you thinking were about so we can move on and learn more about Jupiter?" Ms. Roth reiterated in a soothing tone so to put little Julie at ease and avoid placing her on the spot. "OHHHHHH," Julie said as her voice became louder. She looked around and smiled, anxiously, as her cheeks began getting hotter and redder. She could feel the perspiration beading up on her forehead. She criss-crossed apple sauced her legs in front of her. (We make up words in kindergarten, that, to my knowledge, are not yet in the Webster dictionary) Little Julie pushed her cute little red locks behind her ears again, before she bravely began, red cheeked and all, "Jupiter is so big!" She tried to distract the rest of the class back to the photo on the smart board. "Yes, yes, it is, you are right, Julie...." Ms. Roth began before Julie stood up and twirled around on her toes as gracefully as her five year old feet would allow, and exclaimed, "I think we are all like Jupiterrrr"...her cheerful voice trailed out as if she were singing. Ms. Roth was astonished, and said, "Oh really and how is that, Julie?", her tone demonstrated marked curiosity at that point.

"Can I use your smart board pointer?" Julie looked up with determined eyes and asked Ms. Roth. "Well, I suppose so, Julie," she said as she handed the pointer stick to her. How could she possibly say no to such a precious request? For four years, she went to the university to learn how to instruct five and six year olds. She had been a teacher in Kindergarten for five years now, with the love and admiration of 63 little pupils under her belt so far. This was the experience that seasoned teachers had told her about in the teacher's lounge as they ate their leftovers from the dinners they had made at home the night before, in little pink or violet Tupperware bowls with popping lids that seemed to all pop off in unison. She had believed that they were all crazy and there was not a chance that she would have any experiences they were referring to.

Yet, it was in this moment that would had made Vygotsky, Piaget, and Erickson proud had they all been there to see. This was what real constructive curriculum looked like when it was truly applied in the classroom. She had relinquished the control of an entire atmosphere and handed it over to the instruction of a five year old child with plump little fingers that now gripped tightly to the end of a pointer stick which softly lay on the white projector of technology that she had become accustomed to. The smart board was her's until that moment. Ironically, higher education had never prepared her for such an adventurous action, to hand over the control at the risk of losing it to a five year old, to the chaos that could have become unrelenting, to sit front and center on her hands criss-cross applesauce with her hands in her lap, to sit quietly, and to watch this precious little strawberry colored hair girl instruct a classroom of 22 children, herself included. She looked on and let go. She thoroughly enjoyed every moment of Julie's lesson on Jupiter. In that very moment, she learned so much more than any professor could had ever professed. For ten minutes, she was a student learning from the image of her teaching style being imitated and reflected back at her, as if it were in a mirror. It was surreal and for the first time, she realized what it really meant to be a teacher!
"I love you for your silence, I love you for your peace, the still and calm releases, that sweep into my soul, that slowly take control." ~Precious Freddie Mercury
 
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Freddie Mercury, you are my muse! Infinitely

      
 
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Re: Calling all writers here at Queenonline.....

Postby RynaBelle9*7 » Sun Dec 23, 2018 11:39 am

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"If you don't kiss me right now, I'm going to scream.........AHHHHHHHHHHHHH." ~My Life Without Me

Several years ago, I rented this movie on a whim with my ex-husband when we lived in Kaneohe Bay MCCS, Hawaii. Anyhow, I watched it once and never saw it anywhere again. I have looked here and there and intermittently but not overly serious in searching for it, however, it lingered on my mind all this time. I found it beautiful and inspiring in so many ways. Maybe I innately knew that one day, I would face a similar situation. Now I am with Tony, my partner of over 7 years and we have had one child of our own, Iden. He and I are intensely in love, to this day. I never knew that I could stay in love with someone this long but we just mesh well and understand each other. He needs space and freedom from me for different reasons that I need that from him and at the beginning we just openly spoke up about these needs and desires. So this movie and my enduring love for Tony inspired this little story below. Enjoy! (warning, it is beautifully bittersweet)

"Our process is different, not unlike understanding the way that a commercialized product comes out and how the fiscal year begins in October. I have a deadline get this project done for the museum. I need time to immerse myself in it so I can see through the physical isolation of everything around me to get to the underneath. I need silence. Three days tops, Zack! That is how I create," I explained to my husband as I was taking my shower. We had been in a passionate debate over how we each differ in our own unique processes of our work. Zack is an artist of the visual variety. He can see something old and re-purpose it into something amazing with beauty and class. He turned an old concrete bench from his day job into a colorful and sleek ornament that now graced the garden he designed in our front yard last year. He sees art in a more physically visual light whereas I see art in a more unseen and intuitive way so we try to understand each other even though this was possibly the biggest difference between the commonality that attracted us to one another in the beginning of our relationship.

"I think you should take a week and go to the Artist colony in Eureka Springs to just draw inspiration for your project. I know you must get it done....."he started going off on a tangent of how I should take time away to get my work done like he has before stating the words verbatim that he had just said to me a few months ago when I was in the same situation, up against a deadline that I felt so much pressure about. His words trailed off in the background behind the deafening water trickling down over me and the sound of the water running through the shower head which also suddenly seemed to drown out his voice as I reached down and felt the little lump that had been on my chest for a while, it has grown and now expanded outward. A few months ago when I first discovered it, it was only the size of a pea but now it was the size of a grape. I felt dizzy... "you know what I mean?" he asked as he poked his head in through the shower curtain. "Ambee, Ambee..." he singsonged my attention back to the conversation at hand. I smiled at him as if I had been paying attention and said, "yes", "what's wrong?" he asked with deep concern furrowing his brow.

I paused, which was a huge mistake because Zack is such an observer that even the slightest inflection in my voice or expression on my face will have him questioning me. I probably looked as though I was recovering from a harrowing experience or like I had seen a ghost, as they say. I looked up at him and smiled again. "Nothing is wrong, baby, I am fine, you were saying?" "NO, I hate when you do that. I have been noticing you are trying to hide your stress from me and I just think that if you were at the colony you would get your work done without any distraction from me and the kids. I will pay for it," he quietly and sternly insisted as though he were trying to keep an argument low so the children in the living room wouldn't hear it. He looked at me deadpan and in the eyes. "I really don't know what you are talking about, Zack, I am fine, really. I will go to the colony if that is what you think would be best but I have told you in the past that I do some of my finest under pressure," I retorted.

He gently kissed my forehead as if he were trying to defuse an escalating moment and said, "I love you, Ambee, and I am reserving a room for you at the colony next week, then you will be obligated to go..."he teased. It worked and I let out a laugh trying to forget what I had felt. When I heard the door shut as he went off to bed, my panic began to creep back in. I have breast cancer. No one in my family has ever had breast cancer. Why would I have it? I was bargaining and asking why which is something I just do not do with the pragmatic views I hold on my own existence not to mention the world. My thoughts began to swirl unhinged and at a rapid pace, "What will I do? How can my children handle this news? Should I tell anyone at all? Should I just keep it to myself? I need to make arrangements for my untimely demise. I had known that I would not live a long time when I was a child. It was just my intuition, I supposed. I knew I had to prepare for this but how? The first thing I need to do is find someone else for Zack, another woman, someone I knew would take care of him and the children and love them all unconditionally."

.....I took up his offer and obliged his persuasion on going to the colony the very next Wednesday as we had time off with my day job due to spring break. Despite it being just the top of early spring, it was extremely humid outside and cloudy for the last two days. The kind of weather which always seemed to sort of depress me. I do my best work at the depths of my bouts of depression so it is always a welcome mood except this time, it wasn't the weather that had zapped my energy. I had other pressing thoughts raining down on me from the scattered cloudy fog of my own subconscious. I am dying. I am dying. The words kept repeating within. I tried to push it from my mind but it somehow entered my thoughts in such a surreal way to where everything around me didn't seem real and it was all just some kind of strange illusion. Sometimes I could see the silver lining and sometimes I had the urge to run as far as my feet would take me in a sheer panicked fashion. But, how can I run from something inside of me?

When I stepped out of the car after the long drive, I kissed Zack with every single burning passionate thought all culminating into one since the day I first laid eyes on him. I looked into his eyes and told him I would see him in a week. He seemed a bit bothered at first by the strength of my energy toward him but quickly brushed it off as if it was just because we would miss each other. I let him think what he will these days. I realize that trying to nitpick every thought that goes into the poor man's head is the worst idea in demonstrating love and it is very important to me that he understands my love for him. It shall not die with my flesh. I don't want to take a single moment for granted.

I walked down the little pathway that lead up to the open front of the colony admiring the cloudy excuse for sun rays that were attempting to peek down at the bright colors of the structure and all the strange artwork that graced the outer parts of each studio. The buildings were like pods much like something you would find in Hawaii, they were open in the fronts like garage doors and there were two levels of about eight of them. Some of them were noticeably occupied with people working on sculptures and paintings. Nancy came walking up to me. I had met her a long time ago and we hit it off. She was the manager of the colony. Her curly red bangs were tinged with perspiration as she tipped her sun hat up and smiled at me. I hugged her tightly and she cheerfully intruded upon the layered pressing thoughts clouding my mind with a resounding and enthusiastic, "Are you ready to work?'

"Oh yes," I tried to match her cheerfulness with my own tone. We walked to the left lower level corner studio and I placed my bags down. Nancy said, "I have a bottle of Merlot and some of the most beautiful cuts of rib eye steaks on the grill. Are you hungry after your long journey here?" she winked as she asked in her slightly southern accent. "Sure, now you know, I did come here for the distraction free environment and here you are trying to intoxicate me. Wow!" I said but I was so grateful as I could definitely use a little substance self medicating at the moment. Maybe it would get me out of this mental block where my thoughts constantly shouted at me that I was dying. I argued with myself for a moment when Nancy winked again and turned around to almost skip merrily away to begin making plastic plates of steak and pouring deep red wine into decorative paper cups. "Everyone is dying," I said under my breath when I realized she was out of earshot, "just most people don't know what they are dying of which gives you an advantage," I told myself. That made me feel a little braver about the situation in the moment. I began following Nancy's enthusiastic lead as if she had left breadcrumbs for me where the indelible energy from her now invisible footsteps once were.

We had dinner and drank until the bottle was empty. I began interrogating her like a foolish rookie police officer aspiring to be the next detective in the impossible ranks. At least in my mind I was interrogating her and probing her mind. She was not married, was in her late 30s, and in great health....those were the ones that invoked much deeper thoughts. Before the night was over I had held her hand and kissed her cheek and told her that I loved her. I was very inebriated. I really felt this way, however, as I had found the solution to my dilemma in her own art. The art of getting to know someone when you know you are about to face death. The art of meaningful conversation that lead to deeper feelings. She was the one I was looking for. I projected it all out like streams of sunlight beating from me and bestowing the art that I was looking for. This trip was killing two birds with one stone and the stay was still young.

The project flew together in my periphery and I was inspired by death, by early spring, by panicked depression, by overcoming surreal obstacles, and by the love that this woman would feel for my husband and my children by the time I leave this place. I spoke it into existence with sheer will. This will be. This whole trip that I had been dreading and Zack had pretty much manipulated me into taking was paying off in favor of everything falling into place like a puzzle once the outer edges are finished and the sky has been pieced together for many painstaking hours hovering over a wobbly table hoping that the dog doesn't startle the cat and knock all the progress onto the wicked, cold, hard, and tiled floor. Nancy is going to be Zack's comfort when this is all said and done. My children will be able to have such a heavy blow of my premature death (to them, that is) softened by this red haired, soft spoken, pragmatic and sarcastically hilarious lady. I knew I as looking at a mirrored image of myself projecting back at me. The silver ray was no longer elusive. The night was still young and Nancy and I sat up laughing about the dumbest notions ever....it was beautiful!
"I love you for your silence, I love you for your peace, the still and calm releases, that sweep into my soul, that slowly take control." ~Precious Freddie Mercury
 
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Re: Calling all writers here at Queenonline.....

Postby RynaBelle9*7 » Wed Dec 26, 2018 11:58 am

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Ascension

I love you. Maybe love is not a strong enough word. It only embodies what others have said for millennia! The ancients said it to their lovers who they turned their backs on later after professing such. The people of this world constantly say it to one another only to betray one another days or weeks later. It is thrown around to and fro as if it is just a meaningless statement said to gain something in return, some kind of reciprocation. A tornado throwing the debris of nothingness that once stood strong and true. I cannot state, with absolution, such a vow because it has been polluted and tainted over time. I shall say that I love you and you shall say, I have heard this before, by many. There would be no argument from me. I won't say it anymore. It is not enough.
I want to feel the certainty of the knowledge that you understand the way I feel for you extends beyond anything anyone in this world could ever say that has been tarnished by the flesh next door who says it every day to his wife who he has beaten with his hands and held down with his feet so much so that she no longer feels anything but numb. The simplicity of such a word as "love" has been defiled over and over by people who start out with good intent only to realize later that they haven't the strength within themselves to persevere. My preclude to this is to make you understand what I realize love has become in the world of selfishness and greed, therefore, I shall not say what I cannot make you feel and understand first. Such a proclamation of the shadow of what was meant to be an intensely powerful word which is reduced down so hellishly low to cause someone else to give up their own Self and become lost. My arms reach out to the proverbial invisible (to the naked eye) arms of your soul. I long for a word's finality origin of meaningfulness...like the seed lost to the winds of the plains of the mid-west, where I am from. Does not that seed find a place to germinate and grow into a fruitfulness that feeds another or makes a vast lifeless land beautiful again? The seed is the word but it needs not say but only move with the wind it has not control over to a place where it can begin life. Does that seed really need to care where it lands? Does a word need to care how it is spoken? If it is spoken to barrenness, does it not then die? A word has no intention nor control over the one who says it.
A word that has no implication of purity or sacredness any longer and has lost its meaning from the moment it is uttered in translation and perverse interpretation. Damaged and stigmatized like anything else that is misunderstood. It becomes just a casual utterance like hello or goodbye. It becomes a dirty word or something of a facade in order to falsify to the one they proclaim such intensity from a place of pleasure of the physical senses only, for usury. Lending itself and expecting more than it gives in return. Taking all and giving very little back like a used car salesman, a merchant, a crooked banker...etc...
No I will not. I will not say I love you. I don't. Not in a sense of what the word, "love" has become and been redefined as. I value you beyond any priceless treasure this shallow world could possibly bestow. Gold, silver, diamonds are filth because they are not the essence of you. I will not give you such things. Do not give me such things. I want time. I want your presence. Quality over quantity. Such tangible items that I can hold in my physical hands do not hold the meaning of the value I am trying to convey. I treasure you. You are precious. I am Joy when I think of you. Pure and unhindered. Instead of telling you with the words that my mouth can speak, I will make you feel it. It matters not how far away you are.
My lips could not kiss you deep enough, my hands could not travel over the world of your flesh to prove this to you, my arms fall short of the meaning of your precious value, my words spoken cannot even come close. When you are lying close to me and I am looking into your eyes...I am peering into the keyhole of your soul. I am looking for you. I am seeking to destroy the veil that has been blinding you. I am trying to reach the innermost depths of what is within. Do not fear this. I will not harm you. Just let me in and you will not ever have to feel the need to hear such words again. You will just know when I look at you from across the room, feel it when we are miles upon miles apart, and death will never take it from you. You will just know the value and meaning you hold as if my physical body is still close to yours. Breathe...it in. A breath that is not of the physical but of the fabric of your being. The light inside. I want to reach the illumination and add my own to yours to strengthen you.
This illumination will take you up and you will never fall down even at your darkest moments. Let it happen as the air is in between the earth and the sky. Naturally. Suspended in this moment right now. It will transcend time and you will never know loneliness. You will never know cold nor pain nor fear. Ascend with me right now. I command this. You and I will feel this power equally and it will never be taken from us. Nor will one feel more than the other. It will just be what it is. Where you lack, I complement, where I lack, you complete. We both gain. This is what becoming one is truly meant to be. The pleasures of the flesh are far less than that which you truly desire. There is a piece missing within you and I am it. Take me in. Envelope me into you and we shall intertwine. Those around us couldn't see it even if they tried because most are not in touch with it. Those few and far between who do are also in touch with this value, this ascension, this profound and inseparable oneness. They shall recognize us and we shall recognize them because we are all one in a realm of existence that only the ones who hold such a wisdom can touch. I value you! I do not say this with arrogance only with the loss of ignorance.
Powerfully, profoundly, treasured, and precious....WE ARE NOW ONE. No court, judicial system, worldly paperwork, fleshly priests/pastors can choose that we abide by their own laws as their laws and the universal laws of spirit do not mesh. They only know part of the enlightenment, the essential part of the breaking down process before becoming one builds up to the highest of high. The consciousness we all seek but stay put instead. Too afraid to adventure out into the wilderness to discover what it all means. Too afraid of what could cause harm to the flesh. Inhibited by fear. Truly living is an elusive idea. There is no possessing, never any loss, no insecurity, no wrongs, no rights, just being and a gaining of the intrinsic that others cannot see, that can only be demonstrated...our souls are united and the flesh is only the surface of what we really are. It is not something that can be articulated in a worldly fashion as this would only erode at its life essence like the seed being carried off to a desert instead of an abundantly fertile land. It is impossible anyhow...this ASCENSION can only be defined by our souls. I am not after your flesh. Your flesh is beautiful but it is only temporary. The enjoyment of the flesh is only supposed to last so long, it is a perk of the world but not of ASCENSION. It is not what causes such indelible connections to be built upon. The pleasure of such a higher consciousness cannot even be described, only experienced. It is far beyond mutual understanding. Far beyond...anything close to it. I will not ever let go and you do not have to either because we are now linked and unbreakable. UNBREAKABLE ASCENSION!
As above, So below.....
"I love you for your silence, I love you for your peace, the still and calm releases, that sweep into my soul, that slowly take control." ~Precious Freddie Mercury
 
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Re: Calling all writers here at Queenonline.....

Postby RynaBelle9*7 » Tue Jan 01, 2019 10:12 am

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"When shall we three meet again?" Macbeth comes to mind. I think that there is something so much deeper going on here in this wonderful mingling of these three ancient souls embodied by modern day storytelling women. They are in touch with her. The one. The deep underneath and up above and in between. She is calling you too. What shall we do with this higher consciousness? The bridge between Russia and America is what this song is to be interpreted as. I say, this song could be the leading example of a border less world. One in which we all exist without all that ails the World's people now. I am you. You are me. We understand each other. Break down the borders. Are you ready?

The deep underneath, above, and between beckons you to come closer. She wants to whisper the story of how it will all happen into your ear... Are you ready? Do not fear her. She is not here to destroy if not to build up again. She will come back at the end of the next eon. Some will consider her a witch, a joke, a crazy...others will see what she can do and become healed by her prophecy to learn to live again in a new way. A way that will unleash the veil that leads to an eternity of a connected link of constant inspiration. The only condition is that you must not make waste of her wisdom. Are you ready?

The end of Pisces is upon us. Although, it is only the beginning of the end, it is everywhere you look. It is within yourself if you can delve deeply enough to find the next steps to move toward and adapt to what is about to happen. It is in the air (the sky), the ground (the earth), the water (the sea), and the lightening (the fire). Breathe deeply and take it within, touch the dirt with your bare feet, taste the water and quench thy thirst, feel the heat of the energy of the spark all around you. Are you ready?

The beginning of Aquarius is nigh. 'Tis not the ending of time or the world, no, my friends. This is just the beginning. A power. A wisdom. A oneness. The unquenchable desire for wisdom. An unreasonable altruism of brother/mother/sister/father-hood to help others and the earth on a universal scale is rushing toward us. We all will collide like meteors thrusting through the atmosphere. Everything around us will be redefined. Biological cells shall seek immortality. One plus one will no longer be two but completely subjective and infinite. Are you ready?

I am ready. Been ready. I am so in love...

Come be in love with her. She is the ultimate mother to behold. We must adapt, adjust, and become one. It will happen whether we are ready or not. It is the greater good. The all encompassing one world, one earth, and a unification that will ignite naysayers to begin struggling to fight but all they will do is destroy themselves. Let them. There will be streets of abundance leftover after the smoke clears and the ones who are here to usher in this new age will enjoy the veils of blindness lifted from the potential they only thought possible within a story or a movie. I am. I am. You are. You. ARE. We will. We will. We. Will. Be. ONE. Namaste

Happy New Year 2019!!! Are you ready? I am.
"I love you for your silence, I love you for your peace, the still and calm releases, that sweep into my soul, that slowly take control." ~Precious Freddie Mercury
 
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Re: Calling all writers here at Queenonline.....

Postby RynaBelle9*7 » Wed Jan 02, 2019 6:52 am

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Pilot License

I pressed my foot onto the left rudder to bank around the peak of the mountain that was clearer than it had been due to thick fog in the dense air. It was coming up quick on the right. I knew if I didn't bank sharply in an attempt to tip the nose up hard, I would possibly take out the right engine. I held tightly to the throttle and pulled the nose of the plane upward as forcefully as I could...

My co-pilot was dressed in black and had a black hood on that covered his face almost entirely. I could see his lips which were slightly purple as if he had circulation issues and the skin of his neck, ivory white, and seemed like it would be icy to the touch. Up until this point, I was so curious about the way that his skin must feel, that I had spent half of this training with my eyes darting back toward his neck and my fingers tingled with the desire to accidentally touch him. It had been a distraction that I could have done without. I was on my second training run for the day. Going to pilot school was my dream and I had always wanted to own a small plane of my own. I had my eyes on a Cessna 210. I figured that I would end up vanishing one day, just like Amelia Earhart. I would go out on a little adventure of my own just lost in the clouds and end up in someplace undiscovered. I knew that it was unlikely to find an undiscovered place at this point but it was fun to dream about.

The co-pilot that was assigned to me this time was so quiet, even when I asked questions, he just pointed or motioned toward whatever the answer to my question was and that was sufficient enough to educate me, mostly. He better be glad that I am not much for conversation, myself, and I have emphatic abilities which enable me to understand him using my intuition more than his instruction. Otherwise, this instructor co-pilot was one hell of a shitty excuse for a teacher. We were in trouble now. All because of his icy purply ivory white skin. Could they had not put me with someone else?

"DAMNIT," I yelled out as the nose was heading toward the very tip of the mountain in front of us. Black smoke spit out of the intake and I felt a shudder shake the entire plane. It was a Meridian and its little engines were in a vulnerable place on the wings. "Oh Shiiiiiiiiit," I screamed. We were going down. Just one engine was not enough to keep us even 14,000 high since the right engine was smoking. I knew we were going down. I screamed and yelled. The plane began to spin in the air making me so dizzy, I felt something hard and dark swing and hit me in the temple...then, nothing and darkness. When I woke up, I was lying next to a tree and the plane looked still intact. No damage or anything seemed to be done. It was as if it had never been crashed. I thought, for sure, that it was demolished. I thought, for sure, I was dead.

I began walking down a narrow path deeper into a woodsy area. There were sounds of birds and other little animals. The sun was shining but the trees created such a canopy that it was very shaded and comfortable. I didn't feel too warm nor too cold or anything for that matter. I reached up to feel the side of my temple remembering the way the object that hit me felt when it collided with the softness of that part of my skull. There was nothing on my head. No blood, no bump, no noticeable damage sustained. "What is going on?" I thought. I stopped walking and remembered the ivory skinned, cloaked in a hoodie, dude that had been with me and I rushed down the trail back toward the plane crash site. He was leaning up against the nose of the plane, creepily quiet. "What the hell happened? Why didn't you intervene before this happened? Please answer me." I pleaded with him. "Please, what is going on?"

He looked at me and removed his hoodie from his head and body. "Well, he began, you had always wanted to get your pilot's license. You passed. I say you got this. Even though you crashed," he said it so soothingly that my heart jumped into my throat. Not at the words he said so much even but the way he said them and the way he looked to top it all. He had light, blond colored, short, hair that clung to his head like he buzzed it, military style. He was wearing a black pair of slacks, black t-shirt, black shiny shoes... and his skin was so incredibly white. His lips were still purplish. His eyes, however, were dark as coal. They were not scary though. They were just strangely dark which didn't match any of his other features at all. I was taken aback. I just stared at him, completely startled.

"Deanne, snap out of it," he grabbed my arms. I was in a flight suit though and completely covered from neck to toe. I was wearing boots and an over jacket that matched. I looked down at my feet. I felt his hands through my clothing as he grasped my arms. His skin was not warm to the touch but wasn't icy either. He seemed passionate which really scared me and made me feel vulnerable. I slowly looked up at his face. "What did you call me?" I asked in a calm manner. He repeated, "Deanne". "How do you know my name?" I asked with panic beginning to build up inside the core of me. "I do not know you. I don't know you. Get your hands off of me. NOW!" I matched his passion with my concern and jerked my arms down hard. Once I broke loose, I began to run. My feet were carrying me as fast as my panic could move them. My heart thudded in my head. I was losing my breath when he tackled me down to the ground.

"NOO, Stop, please, just let me go. Please let me go..." I said between panting in panicked shrieks. This seemed to make him become more aggressive. He grabbed hold of my left side and slung me around underneath him, pinning my arms down with his knees, and cupping my mouth with his hand. He slapped me so hard the force knocked my head to the side. I felt blood trickling down my left nostril and dripping on my cheek. "OH God, I began bargaining in my head, "just help me get out this and I swear I will never get on a plane again, I promise, Please, help, me"....then, I felt his hands on my cheeks and he moved my face to face him. He brought his face so close to my own where our noses were almost touching, his eyes were stern and almost glowing an impossible reddish color...I was pinned, going nowhere...I just knew he was going to kill me. I felt tears stinging my eyes and then they were dripping down to my ears. "I know you. I have been with you all your life. But Deanne, now you are dead. You died in a crash here in these woods a long time ago. We have been reliving this scenario over and over since. You just want to get it right but we keep ending up in the same place. Deanne, none of this is real anymore. You can make this what you will but you continue to choose to redo this rerun over and over again. I am staying with you because I am trying to guide you. You keep me in this place with you and it never ends. The only way to get past this is to realize it. WAKE UP...."

I pressed my foot onto the left rudder to bank around the peak of the mountain that was clearer than it had been due to thick fog in the dense air. It was coming up quick on the right.....
"I love you for your silence, I love you for your peace, the still and calm releases, that sweep into my soul, that slowly take control." ~Precious Freddie Mercury
 
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Re: Calling all writers here at Queenonline.....

Postby RynaBelle9*7 » Thu Jan 03, 2019 7:52 am

phpBB [video]



"Tattoo your name across my heart,
So it will remain,
Not even death could make us part." ~Beyonce


"I just got distracted by the beauty of what could be. He is with me everyday. I know. It is not something that I even question. I only wish I could take my last breath as well so I could run to him in the unknown. I want to be in that place with him. It seems so full of peace, beauty, and deeper wisdom than I could possibly find in this existence." "Well, dear, that is really special," my mom said as she looked at me, sort of startled by all the seeming contemplation that was thrust into the air in such an unspoken way. She looked at me with a question she couldn't seem to ask behind her eyes. "No, mom, I wouldn't fathom such a thing, trust me. That is ridiculous," I said after several moments of uncomfortable silence.

It has been several weeks since my fiance was killed on a mission gone wrong in a hangar in Nevada. I missed him dearly. We hadn't even had the chance to become married as we had hoped. He was going to be heading back from a deployment that was supposed to only last for six months. Much to my dismay, it had lasted for eight. Then, three days before he was supposed to be coming back, I was visited by a Chaplain. I don't even remember the conversation all that well. He just showed up at my door and told me that Seth was gone. Everything went blurry and dark. All I could focus on was that he was gone. I didn't even hear anything else that he said to me. I didn't understand how it happened. It didn't even matter anyhow. I just couldn't stop fantasizing about the grim possibility that he would come back anyway for a few weeks and now all I can focus on is when I can see him again.

We had grown up together and had known one another since we were very young. We began dating in our freshman year in high school. Then all of the sudden, he decided to join up with the Air Force. He promised that he would do his very best to always be safe. I knew I couldn't blame him forever over the anguish I felt creep up at times. If only he would have chosen to stay home with me. If only he would have chosen to go to college instead. If only....I chose to focus on the dreaming phase of grief and allow it to consume me. It was all I could do to keep those pesky thoughts from haunting me over and over.

The other night I dreamed he and I were standing in a room with nothing but a flowing curtain, there was white all around us. There was complete silence and then when he spoke, it was like nothing existed except his voice. He told me that he was awaiting the moment we would be together again. That is all I can think about lately. I want to be with him again. I couldn't possibly imagine being with anyone else ever. My mom worries about me a lot these days because of this sentiment that I hold on to so dearly. She thinks that it could lead to suicide or something. I keep reassuring her but she continues to worry incessantly. She doesn't even have to say a word and I already know what she is thinking. She thinks that I am too young to die and that I have an entire life ahead of me. While this may be the case, I am only 21 and I do have a life ahead of me. A life of complete loneliness without Seth. Besides, he was only 22 when he died. What is age when it comes to death? Who says one is too young or old? It doesn't matter. It happens anyway.

Well, on this particular night when my mother went out for the night with her best friend, it had been especially challenging because I really wondered what it would be like to leave this place in the physical and just go to him into the spiritual. He said he is waiting for me in my dream. I knew it was him because I know what his presence alone feels like as I have known him for a long time, since I was a child. I have no doubts at all.

A bottle of anxiety medicine was sitting on the table near me and my tequila sunrise. It would be so easy to swallow all of them and just keep drinking tequila until it is gone. I knew what these specific pills could do taken in large quantities because I had researched it over and over in the past few days. They simply cause deep sleep and coma until death. If I were to seize, I would be so full of alcohol, I wouldn't had even known it. I didn't think I would be discovered quickly enough to be taken to a hospital to be administered with an anecdote because mom would not be home for several hours. The temptation was becoming too much and I grabbed the bottle at that point. I begin slowly taking off the lid. I set it back down on the table in front of me and just stared at it for a moment before I grab my cup and down the rest of the drink.

The room felt stuffy all of the sudden and I felt that there was some kind of presence with me. I got up and walked to the liquor cabinet to fill my cup with nothing but straight tequila. When I turned around the bottle was gone and all that was left on the table was the lid. I looked all over and couldn't figure out what I had done with it. My head began to spin and I felt a little panicked. What did I do with that bottle? I thought to myself as I hastily looked around. I had only drank one tequila sunrise and even it had only two ounces of liquor in it so I knew I was not drunk yet, surely. I was frustrated at this point. I sat back down, drink in hand, and began chugging the bitter liquor as quickly as I could.

...The room became darkened and there was a slight mist all around me. I tried to pretend that it wasn't approaching me from the corner of my eye before I was completely enveloped within it. I must be really drunk, I thought. Then, he was there. Standing right in front of me. He was dressed in a suit and was smiling so sweetly at me. I was so happy to see him. I ran to him and thought my plan had worked. Maybe I had taken the pills and threw the bottle away and just didn't remember. He put his hand up to stop me and then looked a little disappointed. He looked down and away from me. I asked what was wrong. He said, "If you carry through with killing yourself, you and I will not be together." Then he looked dreadfully sad. I explained, "I just want to be with you, Seth. I don't want to live this life without you there." He picked his head up to look into my eyes and said, "Don't you get it, I am here. You may not see me in the physical but I am with you all the time. Do you really want us to be together after you take your final breath in this lifetime?" He asked with a deeply concerned look. "Yes, how could you ask me such a question?" I said back forcefully and immediately. He put his arms around me and I felt him like he was really there standing in the kitchen with me. "Then, live your life. Learn everything you can. Never give up. I will be here when you arrive. You must never ever think about taking your life, though. You would not see me again if you did. For you, it will seem like years before you finally come to me. For me, it will feel like moments. Time isn't the same here. For you count your hours, days, months, and years. I count nothing. There is nothing to count. It is just like standing in a bendable fabric that is circular and expands beyond what any eyes can see. It is a difficult thing to explain but I promise when you get here, you will understand. You will understand....."
"I love you for your silence, I love you for your peace, the still and calm releases, that sweep into my soul, that slowly take control." ~Precious Freddie Mercury
 
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Topic

Postby DrPsyche » Thu Jan 17, 2019 8:34 am

Re: Calling all writers here

Hi RynaBelle9*7,

I'm a mystery and suspense addict and I just can't live without thriller stories. I liked your pieces. Good job. They do convey some hint of a haunting feeling that paralyzes the reality for me...
Here's the piece I wrote while listening to Still There by John Winston and James George (can't insert the link - it's causing error all the time):


One day, without any particular reason, she disappeared. Noone could tell you where or when, at what exact time. You just felt that she was gone. Gone. The word like a bell rang in your ears. And without consideration, you set out on a journey. To get her back. Immediately. Your soul was calm and tranquil. That is why you couldn't feel anymore. And she was the only creature that made you feel. Suffer, but feel.
Perhaps, you thought, it might be better to forget her. Just to begin a quiet life. You tried prostitutes, gay parties and even such extremes as torture and self-flagellation. But none worked. Girls in blood neither saved you nor killed your sanity. Wounds and tainted clothes made you angry but not forgetful. You were not indifferent to her. And even the time when you were ready to have your flesh cut, you refused the last moment merely, because you saw a little boy playing the piano at the window and thought it was not the time. The piano reminded you of her again.
Only that was painful enough. Only that memory made you fall down on your knees and cover your pathetic face.
And suddenly you heard her whispering: "I'm here." You turned - and there she was. In your mind, in your thoughts, as glorious as ever. And your whole essence trembled again.
 
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Re: Topic

Postby RynaBelle9*7 » Mon Jan 21, 2019 8:50 am

DrPsyche wrote:Re: Calling all writers here

Hi RynaBelle9*7,

I'm a mystery and suspense addict and I just can't live without thriller stories. I liked your pieces. Good job. They do convey some hint of a haunting feeling that paralyzes the reality for me...
Here's the piece I wrote while listening to Still There by John Winston and James George (can't insert the link - it's causing error all the time):


One day, without any particular reason, she disappeared. Noone could tell you where or when, at what exact time. You just felt that she was gone. Gone. The word like a bell rang in your ears. And without consideration, you set out on a journey. To get her back. Immediately. Your soul was calm and tranquil. That is why you couldn't feel anymore. And she was the only creature that made you feel. Suffer, but feel.
Perhaps, you thought, it might be better to forget her. Just to begin a quiet life. You tried prostitutes, gay parties and even such extremes as torture and self-flagellation. But none worked. Girls in blood neither saved you nor killed your sanity. Wounds and tainted clothes made you angry but not forgetful. You were not indifferent to her. And even the time when you were ready to have your flesh cut, you refused the last moment merely, because you saw a little boy playing the piano at the window and thought it was not the time. The piano reminded you of her again.
Only that was painful enough. Only that memory made you fall down on your knees and cover your pathetic face.
And suddenly you heard her whispering: "I'm here." You turned - and there she was. In your mind, in your thoughts, as glorious as ever. And your whole essence trembled again.



What a delightful addition to this thread! Thank you so much for writing here with me. I was starting to wonder if there were any other writers on this site or any that are willing to share their work. Your work is so deliciously filled with longing, sadness, and even vulnerable, flawed, perfectly imperfect humanity. Definitely something to celebrate about this existence. Beautiful! I love it!
"I love you for your silence, I love you for your peace, the still and calm releases, that sweep into my soul, that slowly take control." ~Precious Freddie Mercury
 
RynaBelle9*7
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Freddie Mercury, you are my muse! Infinitely

      
 
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