Terick had almost forgotten how beautiful she was. With eyes of sapphire and raven hair, she haunted him even in his sleep. But he hadn’t forgotten her essence. He could still smell her as if she was standing right before him. He stepped from the shadows of Gaft and Second. Headed for the not so quiet tavern across the street to drown out the sorrow of his beating heart and clear his mind of the dark goddess that had betrayed him. Just as his fingers reached for the knob, to allow him entrance into McNeal’s pub, a blood curdling scream drifted past his ear. He stopped midstride, turned and stare down the dark alley searching the vastness beneath a moon of gray. What the hell? Was she to be his torment for all eternity? Another scream soon sent his feet moving in the direction of where the sound emanated from. In the alley lined with stone he found her lying in a puddle of water. Unconscious and badly hurt she was bare to the elements, no shoes, no clothes. Her loveliness hit him like a pillar to his chest. He raised his arms wide and let loose a yell of his own. Why me? He asked. That was the day it rained, and it was also the day he surrender to his wings and the higher power that came with it.
Posted in #Blog Challenge 2014
Tagged angels, Blog, Blog Challenge 2014, fire, heart, kiss, lighting, rain, Rhonda Lee, smells, soul, storms, writing
Stella’s nose leads her past the squeaky barn door out to an ocean of yellow daffodils lifting perfume petals like fairy wings to the sky. Young and skin so fair, long blonde curls circled her shoulders like angel’s hair. The eagerness paints her lips; like ripe berries on the vine. Gone was the spark of curiosity of her once icy blue eyes now clouded by her sightlessness. She rushes forth with the trust of a small child gathering the stems of yellow and lifting their blossoms to her pert little nose as she inhaled deeply breathing in their sweet fragrance with the afternoon sun. Suddenly her ear picks up the crack of broken twigs and the heavy footfalls of man. “Poppa… Is that you?” “No girl. Your Poppa can’t make it.” She turns to flee, but the beast steps from the shadows, gimps his way to Stella’s small frighten form, overtaking her youth with the look of malice inked upon his face.
Who can’t love a ham like that! From his bright red bandana to his miniature black cowboy hat, this little porker brings a smile to my lips and warmth to my heart. I can’t resist the urge to pinch his cute pint-sized cheeks and give them a tug. No! Not those tiny cheeks. His other cheeky jowls on his chubby handsome face just below those bright little beady eyes of dark shiny coal. And look at that pink moist snout, all drippy and wet just above his perfectly lined lips. Why I bet if this hog could talk, he would say “Happy Valentine’s Day, Partner. Won’t you be swine?”
I can’t even begin to tell you how many times my face looked just like hers. Anytime one of the girls mention blogging from our critique group I get that same look, break out in a rash and sweat profusely. I don’t know why I freak at the thought of blogging, I’m a writer, and writers love to write, right? Well this one hates to blog. I don’t know why exactly, maybe its fear of failure. Or failure to grab someone’s attention. Or Failure to write the perfect blog. Blogging for me is worse than going to the dentist, or taking a test that I haven’t studied for, or burning dinner for that matter. Failure that I will sound totally stupid is more like it. It’s so much easier to talk about it, but breathing life into those chosen words proves to me the most difficult. But blogging seems to be a necessary evil and I will prevail!
So bring it on and let the blogging games commence and may your blog be forever in your favor. If only I could be so confident.
I believe success is measured in many ways. As an aspiring writer, it’s my dream is to write a story that many or even just a few will fall in love with and will want to read it over and over again. Money is nice, don’t get me wrong. But readers who are inspired to read more often or even write their own tales are worth more to me than all the money in the world. And if I have written the story of my dreams then I feel I’m successful in knowledge that others loved the tale as much as I did when I wrote it.
I would like to thank a dear friend of mine who inspired me to blog with her for 21 days and I have to say it was a lot of fun. I would also like to thank Terri Giuliano Long for hosting the blog. My hat is off to you thanks for all the fun, its been a wonderful experience.
Every student can learn,
just not on the same day, or the same way.
In education it isn’t how much you have committed to memory
or even how much you know.
It’s being able to differentiate
between what you do know and what you don’t. It’s knowing where to go to find out what you need to know
and it’s knowing how to use the information you get.
Learning is a treasure
that will follow its owner everywhere.
“This City is what it is because our citizens are what they are.” Plato
When I read this, my first thought was of Eureka Springs, Arkansas. Eureka is a quaint little city with a lot of history and pride, with the population being just a little over 2000. You can find beauty in the surroundings and lots of friendliness from the folks who reside here. There’re some really nice people that have a lot of talent and creativity in a small city such as this. Eureka Springs is a great place to escape for a weekend or a nice vacation, a place to learn something new and bring your friends along. And a lovely place where you can spend time with your special someone or a place to just hang out with your friends. I slip away every chance I get and enjoy a day out so close to home.