Category Archives: emotion

The Quest for Love

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I wish, oh, I wish

that I could open up your heart.

I want to get to know you

but that’s the hardest part.

I know you from the outside,

your voice I recognize.

But the real you I’m looking for

is always in disguise.

Sometimes looking into your eyes

I can read what’s on your mind.

But then you turn and look away,

afraid of what I’ll find.

I want to know what makes you tick,

what makes you run away.

I’d like to understand you,

there just seems no easy way.

If I could find a way beyond the wall

I know you’re waiting there.

Searching just like I am.

The quest for love is never fair.

Our Eyes – Trifextra Challenge

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Your eyes take me

deep inside your soul.

When you gaze into my eyes

I feel I am whole.

When our eyes are locked

I see the piece of my heart you stole.

cm0303rowland

(image credit – current.org)

~~

Written for the weekend Trifextra Challenge: And now your Trifextra prompt. This weekend, writers, it’s up to you. We want you to choose a word and use it three times in your 33 words. However, it must be either a verb, noun or adjective and the form of the word cannot change, it must appear exactly the same three times. Please highlight your chosen word in your piece before linking up below. Happy writing! – See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.lBfgSjro.dpuf

Through the eyes of a legend – Trifecta Challenge

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The classified ad was very succinct.  It didn’t use the word employee, it specifically used the word companion.  I wasn’t in the position to be picky about my job prospects or possible accommodation so I made the call.

I rang the bell and could hear the shuffling beyond the door frame.  It took her several minutes to reach the entrance and when the door swung open I was shocked by the state of her physical being.  She stood all of four feet tall, hunched and emaciated, and her skin could pass for a road map.  An oxygen tank hung haphazardly from a metal pole and she spun the wheels around to move it out of my path so I could enter the house.

Unsure of what I was about to face, I stepped across the threshold and closed the door.   The house was warm and smelled of cinnamon – nothing at all what I expected.  The walls were adorned with black and white photos and an old phonograph was scratching out “In The Mood” by Glenn Miller.  Her demeanor was welcoming and she ushered me into the living room where the smiling faces of Clark Gable, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers and Joan Crawford watched as I took my place on the settee.  I felt like I had gone back in time.

The service required of me was simple.  I was to transcribe her life as an understudy in the 1930’s and make sure the world read her story and, not only knew her but, remembered her.

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The official age on her death certificate was 106 years.  She had lived over a century and only through her words did I understand the vast world she had seen change over her lifetime.  As I write this preface to her story, I am reminded of her spirit and her failure to relinquish her dream of fame.  It came too late but she finally got her wish.

~

Word count -323.  Image Credit – health.howstuffworks.com

Written for the Trifecta Challenge:  On to the weekly prompt.

1:  one that accompanies another :  comrade, associate; also:  one that keeps company with another
2obsolete :  rascal
Remember:
• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
• The word itself needs to be included in your response.
• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
• Only one entry per writer.
• If your post doesn’t meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz.
• Trifecta is open to everyone.

– See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.bNnsoN4o.dpuf

Her First Mistake – 100 Word Song

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Her first mistake was letting herself get too close.  She felt the attraction immediately and tried her best to erase him from her mind.  His voice echoed in the recesses of her yearning.  The stare from his blue eyes branded his gaze into her brain.

She felt his touch as the wind tickled her skin and her cheeks flushed at the memory of his warm hands grazing her arms.

The fire within her slowly burned.  The mere thought of his lips on hers would ignite the inferno.  Perhaps the first mistake was not finding him sooner.  Fate is fickle, indeed.

~~

Written for the 100 Word Song Challenge over at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog – Leeroy reached out to Jen aka @jenkehl aka www.jenkehl.com home of Twisted Mixtape Tuesday and my co-conspirator at www.raisedontheradio.com . She chose the great Lyle Lovett’s Her First mistake for this week’s 100 word song. It comes from the album The Road To Ensenada which won the 1996 Grammy Award for Best Country Album. That means it beat out some tripe from Tim McGraw or Garth Brooks or Brooks and Dunn so I already applaud the choice.

Freshly bathed in saline

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I am a churning pool of emotion.  I am one of those people who can put themselves in anyone’s shoes to feel the emotion that pulls on their heart-strings.  Sometimes it is a true blessing and sometimes the catastrophic emotional breakdown is embarrassing.  The control of the outpouring of tears in public has been much improved but behind closed doors all bets are off.

Empathy is a gift that I feel truly fortunate to have.  It is easy to be sympathetic and try to understand what another human being is enduring but to be able to delve into that raw emotion and feel the searing scars of that pain as if it were my own enables me to really reach out to that suffering soul and comprehend what they are going through.

That mutual experience of emotion, for me, is not strictly reserved for direct contact with another human being.  I experience the same overwhelming sensations if I am watching an emotionally charged movie, listening to beautifully composed music or reading a consuming book that drips with powerful sentiment.  Last night my face was awash with tears watching a simple television show.  I’m not sure what came over me but the story was deeply touching and as I felt the first tear caress my cheek I knew there were more to follow.

Perhaps part of my longing to write with such feeling is because I want the person reading to have the same experience I had while writing it.  I want the emotion that held my heart prisoner to be injected into the reader with the same paralyzing sensation that I so easily succumbed.  I can only hope that once my novel is complete, the characters that I birthed will be overflowing with angst, ready to cry on a whim and that I can somehow find a way to make those feelings jump off the page.

The French Maid Connection – TrifeXXXtra Challenge

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She could hear movement inside the cabin and, before she could change her mind, she knocked.  The portal opened and they stood face to face.  Although somewhat shocked, he seemed happy to see her.  For a moment nothing was said.  He simply moved out of the entrance.  As she stepped onto the threshold he caught a glimpse of fish net stockings and smiled as he closed the door behind her.

They stood, no words passed between them.  Their eyes remained locked, a gaze of unspoken feelings, and it was he who made the first move.  He casually closed the distance between them and untied the belt of her overcoat.  With trembling fingers he undid the buttons, slowly and deliberately, never wavering from her stare.  Running his hands down either side of the coat he gradually pulled the shroud from her shoulders and his breath caught audibly in his throat.

He was staring intently taking in the black laced bodice, white apron and collar and he could not contain his smile.  She smiled back demurely and bit her lower lip. He leaned over and his lips swept across her mouth.  Her skin reacted to his touch and her cheeks were ablaze with blush.

The desire in his eyes made her melt and his blue eyes bore into her.  His hands gently cupped the sides of her breasts and traveled up to hold her face.  He pulled her closer and, for the first time, their lips met.  The kiss began sweetly, mouths tentatively meeting for the first time, their tongues apprehensively touching but, as the intensity increased, the urgency became overwhelming.

She pulled away first, panting, trying to catch her breath.  He leaned over and once again their lips met, but this time was much more tender and affectionate.  The slow burn of yearning finally erupted and bodies became cloaked under a blanket of heat.  She moved with him in a rhythm she had never known before.

The music of love was written that night.

~~

My 333 words written for the TrifeXXXtra challenge: And now on to a completely different type of prompt. As you may or may not know, November 15 is National Erotica Day.  Trifecta is not an erotica-specific type of place, but we never shy away from a chance to stretch our creative limbs, and we hope you’ll join us as we dive in to celebrate this quirky day. We are asking for an open write this weekend–33 to 333 words of erotic writing.  No specific words need to be used, and we aren’t necessarily banning any either.

Taking the time

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Here is my post for the writing challenge I put up this morning, originally inspired by The Cutter.   See this post for more details if you want to join in the challenge.  El Guapo entered his in the comments section of my earlier post and the link to Janna’s post is below .

****

Amy was juggling too many things at one time.  She knew that.  The hours she was spending at the office were eating into her social life and causing a huge strain on her relationship.  She had promised herself she would spend more time at home, be the doting wife she had professed she would be in her vows, but her sunken eyes and dark circles under those eyes did much to disprove her intentions.  She was a workaholic.

As she trudged along the sidewalk to head towards the bus shelter she passed the same store windows she did every day.  She had never really taken notice of what the stores offered because it never occurred to her to care.  The flashing neon signs had never distracted her before but today she decided to lift her head and see what the flashing pink lights were telling her.  Her eyes strained to see the woman behind the counter and she immediately noticed how radiant she seemed.  Amy deviated from her routine and went in.

The first thing that hit her senses was the smell of cheap perfume.   Her favorite Led Zeppelin song, Going to California, was playing in the background so she took it as a good omen.  She had no idea what this place was all about but she felt drawn here so she continued to the counter.

Amy realized her mistake halfway through the makeover.  Her hair had been teased so much it  reminded her of when she was a kid and she created static electricity by rubbing a balloon on her head.  The blue eye shadow and pink blush had been applied so liberally she began to look like Mimi from the Drew Carey show and her red lips would give Angelina Jolie a run for her money.  All she needed now was a spray-tan and a tiny dog in a purse and she could be a Beverly Hills housewife!

Tissue in hand, Amy did her best to remove the offensive pastels and tame her hair into submission.  She left the shop bereft of her dignity and wondered how she would explain the lingering color palette on her face to her husband.  She was only doing it for him.

The bus ride home seemed to take twice as long and, after doing her best to become as infinitesimal as possible on the bus, she was only steps away from home.  She could see the candles flickering through the window and the shadow of her husband moving from room to room.  His movement took her off-guard since he was always comfortably ensconced in his recliner, usually asleep, by the time she got home.

He was there to open the door before she had time to fumble with her keys.  The dulcet notes of The Tenors caressed her ears as she took off her coat.  A medium boat of sushi was on the coffee table and the wine had already been poured.  He understood.  He knew her hard work was for a purpose.  As he leaned in to kiss her his eyes caught a glimpse of the make-up residue.  She simply sighed and shook her head.  He knew her well enough not to ask, wiped off some of the leftover lipstick with his thumb and his lips met hers.

Later, as she began to drift into a peaceful slumber, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, she only had the strength to whisper four words, “I’m taking tomorrow off”.

****

Other stories for the Random Selection:

Good Ol Days – JannaTWrites

Blind Date – The Cutter Rambles

Remember me – Trifecta Challenge

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Remember me on Valentines,

the day our two hearts met.

Souls collided, fate stepped in,

serendipity paid its debt.

Remember me at Halloween,

the night I loved the most.

Throwing your Dracula cape aside,

on bended knee, you proposed.

Keep me in mind on Christmas Eve,

while you watch the fire in the hearth.

Feel my spirit staying close,

Afraid of leaving the Earth.

For I will remember you all those days,

And every one in between.

The hardest part of loving you now,

is knowing I’ll never be seen.

~~

Written for the Trifecta Weekly Challenge: Today is also Remembrance Day, celebrated around the world to honour those who have died in the line of duty for their nations. With our birthday and that in
mind, this week’s prompt came easily. Please pay attention to the THIRD definition and happy writing!

Remember (verb):

1 :  to bring to mind or think of
again <remembers the old days>
2 :  archaic
a :  BETHINK
b :  REMIND
3 a :  to keep in mind for attention or consideration <remembers
friends at Christmas>
b :  REWARD <was remembered in the will>
4 :  to retain in the memory <remember the facts until the test is over>
5 :  to convey greetings from <remember me to her>

Remember:

• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
• The word itself needs to be included in your response.
• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated
above.
• Only one entry per writer.
• If your post doesn’t meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments
section, not in the linkz.
• Trifecta is open to everyone. Please join us.

100 Word Song – Opportunities

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Did the money really matter? They were selling themselves short, losing sight of their true strengths. The opportunity had presented itself so innocently but the cost of their choice was epic.

Both educated and inclined to succeed, they relied on their looks to pave the way to their future. They completely negated their worth as human beings. Not only were they selling their bodies, they were selling their souls for the almighty dollar.

That money took the best part of them. It threw away their innocence and replaced it with bitterness and contempt. The adage lies – money can’t buy happiness.

two_prostitutes_by_cellar_fcp

(image credit: newyorkdailysun.com)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Written for the 100 Word Song Challenge: Opportunities, Pet Shop Boys. Lance and Leeroy at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog came up with this new challenge.  Go and check it out!

A heaping dose of perspective

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Picture 260

(It doesn’t look like this now, but it will soon)

The Heaven’s have aligned and I am back home after twelve days of living in a hotel room with my puppy dog.  I can’t even find the words to describe how it feels to be home – and that is a first for me!

I ran the gamut of emotions while I was under that temporary roof.  I was grateful to have that roof over my head and friends who cared enough to offer me a plethora of living options, but my frustration was undeniable.  I’m sure the bureaucratic red tape at a certain energy company tangled the process and elongated my hotel stay by at least five days.  But, I digress.

I flipped the breaker myself earlier today and was warmed by the glow of light coming from my windows.  In the days preceding I had been stopping by to check the progress of the work and my house sat lifeless on my property.  No light emanated from my windows and it sat as a cold, empty shell where there once was life.

There is still a noticeable chill in the air, inside, but I am home.  All of my electronics work and nothing else was damaged in the ordeal.  The only thing I had to do was call Bell to help download the guide for my satellite to get it working again.  The lovely woman I spoke to was in the Philippines.  I’m sure you have all seen the news of the devastation in the Philippines and, while she was personally unaffected, members of her family have lost everything.  We had a very fortuitous conversation that allowed me to truly put my seemingly overwhelming problem into the perspective it deserves.

I still have a home.  I still have all of my belongings and I have a large collection of friends who would be there for me if I ever needed them again.  I didn’t lose everything.  I don’t have to wonder how I will recover from such a devastating loss and I don’t have to mourn family and friends who didn’t survive.  These last twelve days were really just a hiccup in my existence.

670,000 people are now homeless and countless have not survived in the Philippines.  It really makes my previous rants seem so selfish and I will keep those people in mind the next time I want to complain about an infinitesimal problem in my life.