Thursday, March 24, 2011


This week’s Indie Ink writing challenge comes to me from Marian. After having last week off I was raring to go on my new wordy adventure:

Write a piece that takes place at the ocean, on the off season.

The boardwalk was quiet. All shops closed for the winter, the rides silent and unmoving. Bernie was all alone just the way she wanted. There were a few people out on the beach, but with all the stalls closed Bernie was able to enjoy the quiet.

She never seemed to get quiet at home. Living in a two bedroom house with three other housemates there was always a TV on or music playing. It didn’t help that Bernie had lost her job last week and now didn’t even have the refuge of her small cubicle eight hours a day.

“I wish I could keep you on,” Ken, her supervisor had said.

When she got to the end of the boardwalk she turned around and began walking towards the other end. She’d lost track of how many laps, she would just keep going until she came to a decision.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Busy doing other things

I adore my homemade planner. I made it out of a plan black notebook, inserted/okie-rigged tabs to reflect what was important to me and viola! Thanks to my mom having a super cool Cricut machine I was even able to decorate with an adorable owl.

Moving on. Why am I bringing this all up? The time change has really gotten me screwed up this time around. Not only can't I fall asleep at night, but waking up what feels like and hour earlier than I am used too has made me kind of a walking zombie this week. As I will show you in the next few pictures you will see why that is a bad thing.

This is what my January looked like. If I still carried last year's notebook I would show you my December and the myriad of colors and appointments would astound you. January turned into a pretty light month.
 Then there was February. Holy crap, when did I have time to breathe? Did I mention that my calendar is purely extracurricular? On top of the 40-ish hours I spend at work every week I did all of the things you see below. This is what I show my dad (also my landlord) when he comes by the house and notices that the grass in the back hasn't been cut in about 6 (maybe more) months.
 I have high hopes for March. The latter half anyway. After going-going-going like a crazy person and getting a new (and absolutely wonderful) roommate I had decided to take the month off from almost everything. But slowly things crept back on the schedule. How could I say no to the casserole swap last week? Or playing XBox Kinect with Dina and her 5-year-old tonight? So what if the sun is currently shining and the weather is foretasted to rain the next nine days. The grass has gone this long with out mowing. It can go another week or 4. Right?
 April is pretty open... for now.
Maybe then I'll have time to clean out my overflowing bedroom closet, plant my seedlings or get the junk out of my office so I can actually use it?

Thursday, March 10, 2011


My Indie Ink writing challenge, this week comes from the lovely and super talented Jen O.  Boy did it kick my booty. I must have started and erased about half a dozen different beginnings before a last minute conversation with my roommate finally got me on the right track. It still needs a little work, but I think it's pretty good for having banged it out in an hour.

I hope you like it!

The morning after you've done something terrible to someone. don't completely regret it.  You may or may not know the person you've wronged.

Quinn woke up to sunlight streaming through the blinds on the window. Her head was fuzzy with whatever drug the emergency room doctor had forced her to take to get her to stop screaming. It had worked so well she didn’t remember getting home.

Next to her the other half of the queen-sized bed was empty and it hit her. Stan was dead. The events of the night washed over her. 

She’d been sitting at the bar the restaurant where she was supposed to meet her husband and their friends Carol and Greg. Greg had called to let Carol know that he and Stan had just left work and would be joining them shortly. That had been 45 minutes ago.

It wasn’t uncommon for the two men to get distracted talking about some project they were working on at the engineering firm where they both worked. Quinn and Carol were used to waiting on their men and luckily enjoyed each other’s company enough not to mind being left together.

When Quinn’s cellphone rang with Stan’s number on the caller ID she answered ready to give him a good natured ribbing, “I’m on my third glass of wine and if you don’t get here in the next five minutes I can’t be held responsible for what happens next,” she said not bothering to say hello.

“Mrs. Downs?” asked and unfamiliar female voice.

“Um, yes?” Quinn answered confused and slightly alarmed.

“I’m a nurse at St. Joseph’s Hospital, your husband has been in an accident and we’re going to need you to come down here as soon as you can.”

“Yes, of course, that’s- that’s on Lake Avenue right?” Quinn asked grabbing onto Carol’s arm to steady herself. At the same time Carol’s cell phone rang and she quickly answered it.

“Yes ma’ma. 1232 Lake Avenue, right off of Fine Road. The emergency room, you should try to get here as soon as possible, ask for Tatiana, that’s me and I will take you right to your husband.”

“Yes. Ok. Right. Thank you,” Quinn said, a strange buzzing beginning in her ears as the reality of what she’d just been told sank in. “Carol,” she began but didn’t have to finish her thought because the tears streaming down her friends face as she spoke quietly into the phone let Quinn know that she was also getting a bad phone call.

The two women rushed out to the street and the valet flagged down a cab for them. By now Carol was weeping but Quinn was too concerned with making sure their driver knew the fastest way to the hospital to think about why the nurse had insisted she hurry.

“Is Greg all right?” Quinn asked.

“He’s got a broken leg and nose,” Carol told her making an effort to stop crying. “He said they were crossing the street to the parking garage when a car came around the corner and hit them. Greg was only clipped but he said Stan was a few steps behind him and was thrown over the top of the car.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “he didn’t know anything about Stan. They won’t tell him anything.”

The cab dropped them off at the entrance to the ER, Carol tossed a handful of bills at the driver as Quinn ran inside. It didn’t take long for someone to find Tatiana for Quinn and she was lead to an emergency room that was quiet except for the beep of the heart monitor and the whoosh of some sort of pump.

“Dr. Keith will be here in just a moment to explain your husband’s injuries.”

Quinn didn’t acknowledge her she just stood beside the man that was supposed to be her husband, but whose face was battered beyond recognition.

“Stan?” she asked her voice cracking as for the first time tears began to leak out. She saw the bottom edge of his fraternity letters tattooed on his upper arm and she could no longer hope it had all been a mistake.  
It seemed like hours that she sat there next to him, holding his hand, crying, begging him to wake up. She didn’t notice the doctor and Tatiana as they entered the room.

“Mrs. Downs, I’m Adam Keith,” he introduced himself. “We did everything we could, but I’m sorry to tell you your husband’s head injuries are too severe. He won’t be waking up.”

That is where the memory got fuzzy… she recalled him asking if Stan was an organ donor, his driver’s license hadn’t been labeled so. He wasn’t. He’d always said it would be weird walking around with someone else’s organ inside him so he didn’t want his in anybody else.

The doctor asked if they could harvest Stan’s viable organs but it would have to happen soon if she said yes. He was being kept alive just for that reason. As soon as the ventilator was turned off he would be gone. That was when the screaming began.

“Noooo!” Quinn screamed over and over. “Wake up! Wake up!” she insisted yanking on Stan’s slack hand.
It was then that the doctor had nodded at Tatiana and the nurse handed Quinn two small pills and a cup of water. “Take these dear, it might make you think more clearly.” Quinn knocked her hand away the pills flying to the floor.

“No!” she said fiercely, “You’re not cutting him up into pieces. I don’t care what you say. You’re not mutilating my husband.”

Dr. Keith sighed and said he hoped she changed her mind in the next half hour.

Tatiana had finally convinced her to take the pills, but the artificial calm hadn’t made Quinn change her mind.

Now in the bright light of day, Quinn was sorry.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Indie Ink Writing Challenge - The Surprise

It’s my first week participating in the Indie Ink Writing Challenge and crap was I challenged! Good thing fiction is allowed because I’m not one for talking about S E X, let alone writing about it for the whole world and my mother to read.  Thanks Rachel for the prompt!

she turned to him after their lovemaking, and said, "I'm not sure how to tell you this. It happened so long ago..."

“Wha-?” he mumbled with a yawn. It was late and he had to be up in a few hours.

“You need to listen to me,” she insisted. “Things are going to change for you and if you aren’t prepared you might not survive.”

He was wide awake now. “What the hell are you talking about?”

She sat up, pulling the sheet to her chest and turning slightly away so as not to have to look at him. “When I got here ten years ago I had one objective: find a mate.”

Aw crap. He thought. Just because we had sex she thinks we’ll get married and have babies. Why do chicks do that? “Listen, Marie, I like you. A lot. But don’t you think you’re jumping the gun a little? We’ve only gone out a few times…”

“No Henry, you need to listen. I’ll be gone soon and won’t be able to help you with what is going to happen,” she turned to face him, her bright yellow eyes were sad.

 Yellow eyes? How had he not noticed before? Now he was getting freaked out.

“Maybe I should go and we can talk about this tomorrow… after we’ve gotten some rest,” he said swinging his feet off the bed and looking around the room for his pants.

She grabbed his wrist in a surprisingly strong grip, “I don’t have much time. I’ll be called back in a few minutes.”

“Called where?”

“Home, they will know I’ve completed my mission and bring me back as soon as they can.”

“You are home,” he gestured around the room. A silver box on top of the dresser began to glow with a clear blue light and emit a soft melody. “What is that?”

“I’ve written down everything I could think of to help you through the next few weeks,” she said handing him a small composition book she’d pulled out of the bedside drawer.  The light from the box was getting brighter and the melody faster. Marie stood up and walked toward the sound.  She extended her hand to the box and turned to look at him, “You are going to have my baby, thank you.”