I've said it before. More than once. I'm going to start updating this thing more than twice a year!
That being said, its amazing how little time I have for writing. At home, with two kids, and lots of work around the house, we struggle to find enough time to watch Game of Thrones. And of course my friends with older kids love to remind me it will only get worse!
At home, I am renovating my bathroom (I just finished stripping down the walls, and now the real work starts). I am also renovating the garage, and turning it into a functional wood shop. And THEN, assuming its not snowing again by then, I promised Kenny I'd build a castle for him in the back yard.
Kenny is doing great; his stories are almost as complex as mine, and I can't say it doesn't make me proud. He's in a pre-pre-school class once a week to get him ready for real school in September, and loving it. He starts soccer in two weeks.
Josie is making lots of new noises, but no words yet. She rolls around, but no crawling yet. She might skip crawling like Kenny did and go right to walking.
Writing. I'm working on a lot of stuff, when I can. Mostly a couple short stories, and whenever possible I work on World Without Heroes, my comic book that's not a comic book novel. Some adult stuff I am experimenting with that I will likely not share here :p I also keep trying to put my thoughts on atheism down on paper, in a way that is mind-opening (aka, not too offensive to turn off any religious readers -- looking at you, mom).
With that said, here is a little flash fiction I wrote that is very different than my usual stuff. It needs a bit of work in the middle, but I cannot quite put my finger on what. Enjoy.
Love, for a time
She was standing against a short retaining wall, waiting for a bus. The suns light
embraced her like a spotlight, her golden, freckled skin aglow. Time slowed as
I drove past, and I watched her as one would watch the setting sun over
mountains, or the ocean. Her auburn hair defied taming, framing her face with
cascading curls. Her eyebrows were precision, her green eyes wide but bored,
even as she listened to someone on her mp3 player. Her lips were painted red,
the corners tugged up ever so slightly in a smile that never quite went away. She
was chewing a piece of gum, blowing a big pink bubble, and playing with a curl
of hair in a stereotypical way that on anyone else would appear ditsy, or maybe
bubbly. On her, she was just cute; nothing could take away from the sharp wit
in her eyes, the steely confidence she bore. She was dressed simply in a white
blouse and black business skirt, a pair of short black heels next to her on the
ground. Her bare feet were nestled in the short grass. I would imagine she
enjoyed the feeling of the warm grass on her naked toes.
At the sight, I felt my whole being suffused with warmth. As if I were tanning nude onI drove past, and I watched her as one would watch the setting sun over
mountains, or the ocean. Her auburn hair defied taming, framing her face with
cascading curls. Her eyebrows were precision, her green eyes wide but bored,
even as she listened to someone on her mp3 player. Her lips were painted red,
the corners tugged up ever so slightly in a smile that never quite went away. She
was chewing a piece of gum, blowing a big pink bubble, and playing with a curl
of hair in a stereotypical way that on anyone else would appear ditsy, or maybe
bubbly. On her, she was just cute; nothing could take away from the sharp wit
in her eyes, the steely confidence she bore. She was dressed simply in a white
blouse and black business skirt, a pair of short black heels next to her on the
ground. Her bare feet were nestled in the short grass. I would imagine she
enjoyed the feeling of the warm grass on her naked toes.
the beach, the hot sand beneath me, the sun above. From the tips of my toes to my eyebrows, it
felt like I was blushing. I smiled, a lazy slow smile, a smile I felt all over.
My heart thundered and shuddered, missing a beat here and there in its
excitement. Was this love?
I cannot recall if that was the first or last time I saw her.felt like I was blushing. I smiled, a lazy slow smile, a smile I felt all over.
My heart thundered and shuddered, missing a beat here and there in its
excitement. Was this love?
We kissed under the moon, a soft embrace that was gentle and loving, tranquil. The
ocean crashed against the sand near us, providing a soundtrack for our passion.
We made love in the sand, and the water swept up and around us. It was not a
perfect moment, a clichéd scene from a movie; there was a bit of a chill to the
air, and we laughed afterwards as we brushed the sand from each other's bodies.
We both had to work in the morning, and knew that life would always intrude,
eventually. We huddled together for warmth as we watched the stars.
On a chill night in February, we talked late into the night. She talked about indieWe made love in the sand, and the water swept up and around us. It was not a
perfect moment, a clichéd scene from a movie; there was a bit of a chill to the
air, and we laughed afterwards as we brushed the sand from each other's bodies.
We both had to work in the morning, and knew that life would always intrude,
eventually. We huddled together for warmth as we watched the stars.
bands, and I laughed and called her an artsy hipster. She asked if I had ever
heard of one band after another, and played me samples over the phone. I
hadn't. I knew the big bands, but I loved how passionate she was about this
local band from Zurich or that band from Kitchener. I didn't really care about
the music, but I loved it, because she did. She wanted to travel, and see them
all live. I promised to take her.
We went the movies, and I complained afterwards about how much the people around us hadheard of one band after another, and played me samples over the phone. I
hadn't. I knew the big bands, but I loved how passionate she was about this
local band from Zurich or that band from Kitchener. I didn't really care about
the music, but I loved it, because she did. She wanted to travel, and see them
all live. I promised to take her.
talked through the movie. She had given
me a knowing smile, and twirled her hair, and everything was right. I felt
right. We both loved movies, the way she loved music and I loved travel. We
watched classics and b-movies, block busters and character studies. It didn’t
matter what we saw, as long as we saw it together.
There was a moment where I realized I could not imagine being without her. I don’tme a knowing smile, and twirled her hair, and everything was right. I felt
right. We both loved movies, the way she loved music and I loved travel. We
watched classics and b-movies, block busters and character studies. It didn’t
matter what we saw, as long as we saw it together.
recall what I was doing, but I am sure it involved her smile. And I knew that
everything was perfect, that without her, something would be missing. Life
would be less. And I think of that moment of her standing in the sun, playing
with her hair, and I feel sad to know it is gone. That it never was. It will
never be.
I awaken, and she is gone. Even her name is lost as my sub consciousness is
pushed aside by wakefulness. I do not know who she was or might have been. It's
the nature of dreams; it had been so real, we had spent a lifetime together.
But now it's gone as if it had never been, and all that remains is fleeting,
images and feelings, a sense that something is now missing. I feel a little
like weeping, knowing I will never see her again. I hold on to that image of
her by the retaining wall, her skin like honey in the sun, I stubbornly refuse
to let go. That was not my life, and she was never mine. She was just the girl
of my dreams, is all. I close my eyes and try to force myself back to sleep, so
that I can find her again. But sleep won't come. She won't come. I squeeze my
eyes tightly shut, concentrating on her face; the memories are seeping away,
sand slipping from my fingers. My thoughts, against my will, turning to the day
at hand. She slips away. I wonder if she is out there somewhere in the world,
trying hard to remember me as she awakens. The thought soothes a bit. I rise,
and face the day without her.
It's gone now. The dream. Faded away. But her smile; that stays with me all dayeverything was perfect, that without her, something would be missing. Life
would be less. And I think of that moment of her standing in the sun, playing
with her hair, and I feel sad to know it is gone. That it never was. It will
never be.
I awaken, and she is gone. Even her name is lost as my sub consciousness is
pushed aside by wakefulness. I do not know who she was or might have been. It's
the nature of dreams; it had been so real, we had spent a lifetime together.
But now it's gone as if it had never been, and all that remains is fleeting,
images and feelings, a sense that something is now missing. I feel a little
like weeping, knowing I will never see her again. I hold on to that image of
her by the retaining wall, her skin like honey in the sun, I stubbornly refuse
to let go. That was not my life, and she was never mine. She was just the girl
of my dreams, is all. I close my eyes and try to force myself back to sleep, so
that I can find her again. But sleep won't come. She won't come. I squeeze my
eyes tightly shut, concentrating on her face; the memories are seeping away,
sand slipping from my fingers. My thoughts, against my will, turning to the day
at hand. She slips away. I wonder if she is out there somewhere in the world,
trying hard to remember me as she awakens. The thought soothes a bit. I rise,
and face the day without her.
long. And I know that for a time, at least, it was love.
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