Dabbling in Delphinium_Some Heroes Don’t Wear Capes_Forgive or forget..._That Fuzzy Feeling
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Dabbling in Delphinium
May’s fingers nervously drummed on the table hyperactive from the anxiety that tore at her viciously like a lion devouring a gazelle. Desperate to grasp some sense of tranquility during her trepidation, she focused on the small vase of flowers in the middle of the table. Her thoughts drowned her in self-doubt making it hard to breathe. She managed to even out her breathing when her grandma entered the room sitting down in a rocking chair that looked almost as ancient as she did. They sat in silence for a beat, before her grandma picked up a rose from the vase. Dangling it from her fingers tur...
Some Heroes Don’t Wear Capes
A harsh reality penetrated my path, leaving me dangling by a thread, nearly free-falling to an instant death. My drinking had bypassed the every-so-often escape from reality, erupting into an endless need for the drink. Alongside alcohol, drugs tore a hole in my soul, altering my mindset to a state of being that one cannot imagine; I felt utterly wrecked: I was at my stepdad Fred's house: I had accumulated a sizable amount of doctor-prescribed medications over the previous few months. (Doctors prescribed me more drugs than I could handle.) Not only did I have a lot of pills, but my stepdad Fr...
Forgive or forget...
Forgive or forget...The clouds are hanging from the sky; and the crickets and the wind are screeching. I awww.onedoor.ccm sitting in an empty park, and the wind is blowing my mousy, crinkly hair onto my face.I thrust it backwards.The evening and the metal of the park beach is steadily getting colder.Why did mom and dad bring me here? Did I really have to remember? I do remember the text book stuff, what else was important?, to them, anyway. A man walks by, his hands in his pockets. I look up and shuffle my feet. Opens my mouth and closes it, the person is already far away.I grunt. Why do they say that I’ve ...
That Fuzzy Feeling
“Well,” Briella spat several fine brown hairs out of her mouth as she spoke. “I think it’s official.”“What’s that?” Delaney called from Daisy’s stall. She was trying to maneuver the fluorescent pink halter on her little paint mare who was obviously feeling a bit frisky and obstinate on this brisk March day. The coolness of winter hung heavy in the barn while the sun warmed the outside air.“Spring has sprung,” Briella chuckled, half sarcastically but mostly because she was covered in more hair than her horse, Maximus. Her ten year old thoroughbred gelding was finally shedding his winter coat, p...