Yeah Write

Somewhere In Time

I wrote this post last year because I was reminded of something from a different post. Decided I would try to expand up on it for fun.


But somewhere down the road
Our roads are gonna cross again
It doesn’t really matter when
But somewhere down the road
I know that heart of yours will come to see
That you belong with me
Letting go is just another way to say
I’ll always love you so

We had the right love
At the wrong time
Maybe we’ve only just begun
Maybe the best is yet to come”

Somewhere Down The Road- Barry Manilow

You ask why I am silent and wonder why I do nothing but stare at you. I don’t answer because I am not sure what I want to say yet, but I am pleased you aren’t intimidated by the force of my glare.

The intensity is radiating off of me in waves. Moments before I walked into the restaurant a crowd of people saw the look on my face and made space so that I could walk through the middle of the path unencumbered.

Like Moses parting the Red Sea they moved to either side and avoided making eye contact with me. I strode with purpose and intent determined to see you again. The first time in years, unsure and uncertain of how it would go I sat down across from you and took you in.

We were both older. Much had happened in our worlds and I wondered if we would discover that the changes were so great we no longer would have common ground. I wondered if we would be like two lovers who had once been and now were left with nothing to talk about except old times.

That conversation only lasts so long before you stop it. You can laugh once or twice at this and that and then you realize that your memory of something good is all that keeps you from walking out the door towards what is good in your life…now.

Here We Are

That is not how it went with you and I. That is not what happened to us. We talked and talked and the echoes of the future touched the burning embers of the past.

I wondered if you felt the sparks like I did or if you could hear the bells. I looked at your face and saw my girl and my woman. Asked you if you still loved me and saw the look in your eyes when you said you did.

Tried to keep a poker face so you wouldn’t be scared by my reaction because I knew that in your mind that love wasn’t enough for right now.

You weren’t sure about the timing. You weren’t sure about a bunch of things so you were doing your own tap dance. You were doing your thing to be cool.

We Can Be Friends

You said we can be friends and asked me if that was too hard. You said that was all you could give. I told you that you should kiss me and see if you felt something more. I wrapped my fingers in your hair and stuck my nose in your neck.

You kept your face turned, but your breathing wasn’t as even as it had once been. I didn’t have to put my head against your chest to know your heart was starting to pound. Didn’t have to do anything because the bells were going off at a rapid rate and I could hear your thoughts.

I didn’t push you to kiss me after that. I was confident that if I had you would have, but I decided it wasn’t necessary. You know the spark is there and you want to do something but the timing isn’t right for you.

That is ok. There is no rush.

If this is what I think it is then everything will fall into place as it should.

I Know Things

I do know things. I know that if I am right you will be in my arms again and that we’ll take each other back to the kingdom we once lived in together. We’ll walk through verdant green fields and stand upon rocky covered beaches watching the sunset.

This I know because the conversation between us is never ending and the trust grows deeper again. The song our hearts sing are slowly building towards a place where they will sing together again.

And together we will carry each other as we once did but with more appreciation, understanding and insight than before. The pain of the past is receding and we have already begun to heal.

When I see the silent tears slide down your face I will continue to kiss them away and then I will wrap you in my arms, pick you up and carry you because you don’t have to walk alone anymore.


And should timing prevail and I find myself told to stand on the outside than I shall do that because I have come too far to just walk away. Walked through miles of desert to find out if my heart was right or if my head was correct in its assessment.

If friends are what we shall be than that is what we shall be but I am not going to worry about that now.

Not going to worry or wonder because it is a waste of my time and energy.

Going to focus on enjoying the moments and being present. Going to tell you I love you still as I always have and that you don’t have to say it back to me. Going to say that there is real meaning in “I know things” and that sometimes we just have faith in that which we can’t see, touch or feel.

You are beautiful to me because I see the things you hide. You are beautiful to me because you are imperfect as am I. You are beautiful because we carry pieces and parts of each other and will for life.

We made the exchange a thousand years ago and a thousand years from now that won’t have changed. We will still know what others don’t and still share what others can’t.

Sometimes we will have danced in the fire and lived alone and apart but we will have done so knowing someone was always there to walk alongside when we needed them.

Fate Is A Fickle Bitch

If I believed in fate, destiny or karma I would tell you that she/he/it is a fickle bitch. I’d tell you the story about how we found each other again and that we found our somewhere down the road.

I’d tell you about how we filled a house more love than heaven would allow. I’d tell you how we forced time to stand still and how we took a minute and turned it into much, much, much more.

We jumped in a log ride and splashed down into that hokey tunnel of love people talk about. We did what they said couldn’t be done more than once. We hit the corners at breakneck speed and when we smacked into the wall we weren’t hurt because we went straight through it.

Can’t say if it was because of magic, love or basic physics but we knocked that fucker down and flew right back into the past and marched our way into the present.

We did it because we pushed fear and recriminations aside, figured out how to let go of the pain of the past and accepted each other for who we had become because who we were wasn’t enough to make it over the humps.

But we did it. We crossed over and rebuilt our secret world and built a newer, brighter and bigger foundation than ever before. We didn’t have to prove a damn thing to anyone but we did it nonetheless.

We proved to each other and to ourselves that what we had wasn’t fake, false or fleeting. We showed the world we had everything a man and woman would need to make it.

And then that fickle bitch fate decided to stir things up. She stuck that giant spoon into the big black cauldron and started stirring and she created one hell of a whirlpool. I told you to hold onto me and promised to swim to shore.

Every time I got tired I felt your arms squeeze me tighter and I found a little bit more was left in my arms. We hit the shore and collapsed in the surf.

It felt good to lie down and rest but while we slept the tide came in and swept us out to sea again except this time we weren’t holding hands. This time we got swept away in different directions and by the time I made it back to shore I had no idea where you were.

Where Am I?

When I hit the beach and realized you weren’t with me I didn’t panic because I could still feel your presence the way I always had.  That made me relax a bit but I knew I had to find you so I set up camp and began figuring out what I needed to do.

Didn’t take long at all to figure out where you were but that didn’t prepare me for the big surprise. Somehow that fickle bitch’s whirlpool sent me back in time and I ended up back in that place where there was nothing but silence between us. It was the cruelest of cruel gestures, something out of a science fiction or fantasy novel.

Just when we had figured things out and were working in the present to build a place for the future I get thrown in the time warden’s jail.  It is like one of those romantic comedies where the girlfriend/wife gets amnesia and the boyfriend/husband has to fight to get her back by getting her to fall in love with him again.

There are a million versions of them and I understand why they keep getting remade. Relationships never get old and people never grow tired of watching and reading about them. Lost and found love is so easy to relate to.

Back in my hut on the beach I sit and watch the sun set over the water. I close my eyes and listen to the sounds of waves hitting the shore and smile. Life is filled with more than a few moments, some good, some bad and some inexplicably complicated.

I can hear your heart beat and see your smile. I can almost feel your  touch but not quite. If I could bend time and space you wouldn’t be that far away. I call on the ghosts of Newton, Tesla and Einstein and demand their help but there is no answer.

That fickle bitch owes me a solid here or at least an explanation about why she did what she did. At the bare minimum I demand she give me a fighting chance but we all know that whether she does or not I am not the sort who lets adversity dictate his life.

If I play by her rules that means one step forward and two steps back but no one said I couldn’t mix things up a bit, give her a different look. Might mean looking foolish, but sometimes getting to where you go means you are willing to do a little dance, dirty or otherwise.

So you tell that fickle bitch that I am coming for her. Can’t say what will happen when I get there but I can promise I will.

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Who dunnit?

Who dunnit?

The moon refused to hide our sins just as the sun denied us our blessing.

Perhaps it shined brightly but all was lost in the twilight of the moment.

Once we had been kings but hubris had stolen our crowns.

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From Darkness To Light

Johnny closed his eyes and did nothing but listen to June talk. He was tempted to confess his attention wasn’t completely focused on her story but it was on her voice and that was sometimes the most critical thing.

She wouldn’t appreciate hearing that, it was the type of thing that would get him in trouble. But he knew that she would get it. He knew that she would appreciate that he was lost in his world but that he wasn’t so far gone as to not be concerned with hers.

That was because he had always been good at figuring out her mood from her voice. He understood her in ways that no one else ever had.

For a long time she had rolled her eyes any time he had mentioned it. That was because she knew that men would say things that they thought women liked to hear. She had figured it was just some ridiculous line he used because he thought it would make her amenable to his advances.

But when she tested him he proved he was right.

Of course she never told him that she was doing it. It was one thing to be honest and another thing to let him know something that he would never let her live down. He would tease her incessantly and for the rest of her life she would have to listen to it.


Johnny smiled again.

That moment could have been the story from a million years ago. That could have been from the days when June and he talked about what to name their children and laughed about how the other couples would hate them. Not because they were bad people but because they knew 20, 30, 50 years into their marriage they would be as in love as in the beginning. They would be the senior citizens who didn’t understand the sexless marriage because it never happened to them.

It would be something they couldn’t quite understand and yet one day they would.

They would figure it out because it would happen to them except with other people. It would come after the monstrous fights that destroyed things between them. It would come after they thought they had lost it all and had gone their separate ways.


Except something had happened. After things had fallen apart and they had gone their separate ways and had learned that it could happen to them, well somehow they had reconnected. After they had looked at the ashes of marriages to others they had started talking.

Unsought and unseen it had snuck up on them…again.

An accidental meeting at a party and a short conversation had led to an agreement to meet for coffee.

It felt comfortable from the start but they had restrained themselves, cautious about running in too soon, no rebounding with or for each other.

June had told him she didn’t have it in her to be more than friends. She had said she wanted a simple life, told him that she wasn’t playing hard to get. It wasn’t a game, it was what she wanted.

He said ok and then she told him again that if she had to fight him off it would make her angry. He smiled and told her she was beautiful and said that he wanted to sleep with her but wouldn’t. Then he laughed, said he knew that threw her off guard.

“Don’t play games with me Johnny, I don’t like it.”

“I am not playing a game. You won’t admit most of what you really think or want here. You are living in a closet with a curtain pulled tightly across your eyes.”

She narrowed her eyes and the playful tone left her voice.

“What the hell does that mean.”

Johnny smiled again, “you hate when I do that.”

“Then why would you intentionally do it.”

“Because I am the best got damn lover you have ever had. I am your best friend and you trust me more deeply and intimately than any other man and you are scared. So I can take you any time I want. I can have you when I want. All I have to do is give you time to open your eyes or pin you against the refrigerator like good old Uncle Zelig once did.”

And then before she could answer he laughed and started talking again.

“See. I just made it harder for me too. I just pissed you off a little bit so that you would take a step back. Maybe you aren’t the only who is scared, or maybe you are. Fact is there is no rush. Sometimes I believe in meant to be and I am convinced this is one of those things. It will work or it won’t and if it is meant to be it doesn’t matter what I say now does it.”

“I don’t know if you are a fool or an arrogant asshole but I can promise you that you won’t see me naked any time soon. Sometimes the smart thing to do is to keep your mouth shut.”

“Yeah, you are right but that is not how I operate. It is not very romantic, but I think you are fucking beautiful and that when you take your head out of your ass you’ll realize that not everyone gets this. I don’t know what it is, but it is special and  it brought back a smile I had lost. Whatever happens or doesn’t happen, I crossed back from the darkness into light.”

Categories: Fiction, Yeah Write | 2 Comments

Whom The Gods Ignore



A flash sparked across the sky but it wasn’t interesting enough to make the men look up. They were too busy playing cards and thunderstorms around here are no different than the million feral cats wandering through the neighborhood.

They come and go as they please and if you get in the way you are as likely to be scratched as ignored.

I didn’t like the cats and if I had my way the people that fed them would be fined and or shot. Take away the bowls of food and water and they would disappear, problem solved.

But the cats didn’t bother me half as much as the storms did. Hell, I probably wouldn’t have given a damn about the cats except for the way the lightning made them show up in something that resembled a pack.

It was weird and unnatural seeing them like that. Cats aren’t pack animals, they don’t move in groups, but these ones did.

I didn’t like it, but you already knew that.

What you don’t know is what happened that Labor Day weekend nine years ago. You didn’t see us walking down the street, holding hands and dancing in the rain.

You didn’t see me lift my face to the sky, jaw opened wide, lapping up the rain and laughing.

You didn’t hear her tell me that it wasn’t safe to be outdoors when the lightning was being tossed about.

“It is dangerous out here, we need to get inside.”

I laughed and told her to relax, nothing was going to happen.Watch what happens when I tell Zeus I want to play catch with one of his bolts.

“Zeus! Zeus, you big pussy, show me something. Toss me a bolt and I’ll throw it back, we’ll play catch.”

I laughed again and did a cartwheel in the street.

Seconds later I opened my eyes and tried to figure out why I was lying in the mud.

The old men told me that they saw three bolts of lightning hit the ground, right where we had been standing.

“Oh god, we. Right where we had been standing. Where was she!”

I looked around, but I didn’t see her. All I saw was a lone shoe.

Twenty feet away from there those damn cats were meowing and climbing over something, at least I thought it was something. It took my head much longer to process what my heart already knew.

That wasn’t something, it was someone and I knew them.

She was gone and it was my fault. I was the one who refused to go inside and who called down the thunder.

And now every time it rains I run outside and beg to play catch  again. The bolts come down but they never hit me.

But others are not so lucky.

No one talks to me anymore, the only living creatures that come close are those damn cats.

Maybe one day I’ll get lucky and lightning will strike again, or maybe not.


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Moments In Time


“The magic was all in the finishing touches.”

Someone told me there is a website somewhere that documents the many different ways English is misused throughout the world, but I am too tired to look it up.  Besides I am not certain I want to share the story about what took place in room #1435 with anyone else.

Sure, I could make up some funny line about about a condom wrapper that talked about finishing touches and the magic it claimed to have, but it wouldn’t work for me.

You could blame it on my fragile male ego and how embarrassed I was when we had to throw that condom out because my flag wouldn’t rise for the occasion. I know you said I shouldn’t feel badly about it and that you thought it was cute to see my red face.

We have both been around long enough to know that these things happen and that there ways to deal with them that make it work for everyone. Hell, you proved to both of us it wasn’t a big deal and that all systems were go.

I can’t remember the last time any of those things happened.  I can’t remember the last time I was so nervous that things didn’t respond the way I expected them to and I can’t thank you enough for making me comfortable enough to stop wondering if  age had caught up to me.

Nor can I thank you enough for showing me I am not old, not old at all.  Damn, you did things that no one else has done and made me remember the 18 year-old kid who dreamed about this sort of experience.

But the difference between then and now is the decades have taught me that some memories are special because they aren’t shared with others.


Two hours ago we stood on the balcony overlooking Kowloon Bay and I asked you to marry me. You laughed and said you would think about it, but then you noticed I wasn’t laughing.

I was smiling, but not laughing because I am serious.

You said we live in different worlds and asked me for a plan. I asked for six months to wrap up my affairs in Hong Kong and said I would move back to the states.

“Ten years ago you said you would move and you never did so we both moved on, what is the difference now. Back then we lived hours apart, now it is worlds.”

Your words are still ringing in my ears. I heard the anger and the pain but I saw hope in your eyes. It is why I told you that was then and this is now. We aren’t who we were but that doesn’t mean things can never be.

It just means the timing wasn’t right and that all we need is a chance. If you open your eyes you might be surprised to see the opportunity is there because the miles have melted away.

And maybe one day we’ll wake up in our bedroom and smile because we’ll know from experience that “The magic was all in the finishing touches.”

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Pink Sports Cars


“Blowing bubbles in milk always feels good.”

When she paused to ask him what he was thinking about he lied and said it felt too good to think about anything.  She smile and started again and he smiled back at her, never telling her that he was thinking about a time many years before.

She was the girl down the street whose mom would sometimes watch him while his own mom did whatever grownups do when they aren’t with kids.

He hadn’t wanted to be stuck with a girl for a playmate, especially one who was a little bit older and bossy. Mom hadn’t listened to his protests and told him that girls could be just as fun to play with as boys.

She was right, but back then he didn’t think it was fun to listen to her talking about blowing bubbles in milk or anything else she had to share.  Eight year-old boys wanted to play army, to wrestle and climb things but they help no interest to nine-year-old girls.

He told her he thought that pink sports cars were stupid and that was the end of any friendship that might have developed.  She yelled at him once and then refused to talk to him.


Time passed and even though they went to the same schools they still didn’t talk.

Somewhere around the summer before his junior year of high school things changed for him. He saw her walking with a group of friends and noticed her long well defined legs.

But what he didn’t notice was how hard he was staring or that her friends had picked up on things and alerted her to his presence.

“What is your problem!”

He looked up and saw dark eyes staring back at his and tried to come up with a cool response.  Instead of spitting out something that would have made them all smile and swoon he said something that they thought was stupid and was met with five minutes of laughter.

Red faced and frustrated he turned and stormed away, completely unaware of how she watched him walk and admired the changes that puberty and exercise had bestowed upon him.

It took three more months of passing each other in the hall and a series of more awkward exchanges for him to realize that she was flirting and not trying to be mean.


He was going to ask her to go the Winter formal but a senior boy beat him to it and so he was left to watch her from his window walk to the limo on the arm of some other guy.

She didn’t tell him that she only did it to make him jealous or that she had wanted to go to the dance with him.  She was willing to do many thing but asking a guy out wasn’t one of them, that was his job.

So when the other boy tried to kiss her at the dance she had let him, not because she wanted to but because she felt like she had to. He had purchased the tickets for the dance, paid for dinner and the limo. It was only fair.

It was also the reason why she went on two more dates with him. In the years to come she would learn how to say no and not feel guilty about it but back then she was still young.


He didn’t tell any of his friends or family about the crush on his neighbor but he promised himself that he would ask her out before she graduated in May and went to college.

And he did, but not until March of that year which meant that she couldn’t go on their first date until after her family came back from their annual Spring break vacation.

So by the time they really started dating they were both hyper aware of how little time was truly left.

She had been accepted to a school out of state and within a couple of months would be moving away to start her freshman year of college.

It was an exciting time for her made bittersweet by the realization that she had real feelings for the boy. He treated her well and was always a gentleman but she knew he wanted to take things farther than they had.

It wasn’t a secret that guys were interested in that thing nor a secret that girls had to be careful about it.

So she wrestled with herself about what to do and what was right.

Eventually she figured out what she could do for him that would be special and would not compromise her values. The question of when and where was solved by her aunt’s request for her to house sit while she took a short vacation.


She intentionally didn’t tell him about her plan. It was better to surprise him. He looked shy when she unbuttoned his pants and she thought it made him look extra cute.

Just before she started she thought about her friend’s advice and tried to do things exactly as she had been told to which is why midway through she stopped and asked him how he was feeling.


He stared at the ceiling and wondered why his mind would wander at a time like this but it was the first time for both of them so he had no clue what he was supposed to think about.

And unlike his girlfriend he hadn’t consulted with anyone who had done this before because that would have meant having to confess he hadn’t done it many times in the past.

So he stared at the ceiling and smiled at dreams of milk bubbles and pink sports cars. Maybe his mom was right, girls can be fun to play with.

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The footsteps paused briefly at her doorway.  She listened for a knock at the door and when that didn’t come she figured it was just another salesman and went back to getting dressed for her run.

Autumn was among her favorite seasons and the best time to run alongside of the lake.  The crisp air was invigorating and the bone chilling cold of winter was still to come. An early morning run followed by a shower and the perfect cup of coffee were a ritual she had started in college and maintained through her marriage and divorce.

Running was where she did her best thinking and the time when she almost always figured out the answers to things that troubled her.

It took less than ten minutes to get dressed, throw her hair in a ponytail and head out the door.

Five more minutes took her around the corner and down the street towards the lake. Somewhere during the moments when she waved at the ducks resting from their southern journey the footsteps that had paused at her doorway returned.


He had been watching her for three months now, studying her routine and habits. He knew that she would be out for no less than 40 minutes and no longer than 63.

The cameras he had installed inside her home had helped him figure out that her post run routine took approximately 37 minutes and that at least 13 of those were spent in the bathroom.

That was twenty minutes less than her evening routine which included a long stint of brushing her hair and various other female grooming habits.

His notebooks contained many more details about what she did, how she did it and who she did it with. Those books and his methodical nature were a big part of the reason he had never been caught, that and twenty years of experience.

Twenty years of experience had taught him much and helped him refine his approach, manner as well as develop a certain style.

He had only killed his prey a handful of times.


The first time had been a huge mistake.

She had tried to fool him. She had welcomed him, encouraged him to do what he had to do, not to her, but with her and he had believed her.

Of course he had tried to make her prove it, demanded she show him she could be trusted. She had smiled at him, kissed him and begged to have a chance to show him what she could do if her hands were free.

Youth, arrogance and ego had made him think it would work and he had freed her hands.

She climbed onto his lap, straddled him and pushed his head into her cleavage.

He remembered inhaling deeply, intoxicated by her scent and the amazing feeling of her legs wrapped around him.

And then came the pain of the scissors she jammed into his shoulder blade, the scream of rage and the surprise he felt when she didn’t let go.

He stood up, and she stayed with him, legs still wrapped around his body, her fists pounding his head and back.

That was her mistake and what saved him.

She hadn’t hit anything vital and he was still much bigger, stronger than she was.

He was angry so he punished her by being rough and when he was spent she was no more.


Lesser men would have taken that experience and learned to never let their prey use their hands, no matter how they begged or what they promised. He wasn’t one of them.

He knew he had a larger destiny and that there were many ways to control people. It was part of why he studied them.

Some were shown pictures of family members and told a lack of cooperation would be bad.  When they didn’t believe him he would show them pictures of body parts and a chain saw.

The thought made him laugh because the pictures weren’t his work, but they were effective. They always did as he asked and played whatever part he wanted, but variety is the spice of life which is why he had learned how to make a certain cocktail that removed inhibitions.

It also removed basic muscle function.

They were aware of what was happening but unable to do anything about it. Sometimes it was fun to make a puppet to play with.

The cocktail had created a few issues for him. It wasn’t the sort of thing you could ask a doctor or pharmacist to teach you to make, so he had been forced to experiment. That had been rough, a couple of his guinea pigs never did wake up again, but that wasn’t the worst part.

Every time he was with one of his playmates he wanted to see their eyes and those early times had made them sleep through it.


Time was wasting away and it wouldn’t be long before she would return.  It was time to start the preparations.

He began by going to the nightstand and pulled out the gun that lay inside. He was feeling saucy so this time around he thought he we would leave it there, disabled of course.

The thought of the look on her face when she realized it wasn’t working made him dance with glee.

He took out the tape, the rope and a couple of toys and waited where he knew she wouldn’t look. He would give her time to get in the shower and he if she fought she would have time to get her gun.

But there were other preparations to make, things to do so she couldn’t call for her help or run outside.

The chimes from the clock in the hallway made him look up– five more minutes and play time would begin.

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My Stairway To Heaven

There is a reason why you shouldn’t try to send email while walking down a flight of stairs. It is the same reason why your mother told you not to run with the scissors in your hand or a lollipop in your mouth.

But sometimes safety and circumstances coincide as the oddest of bedfellows and you don’t do as your mother taught you. Sometimes you find yourself wandering through a house wondering if the owner paid a designer for the monstrosities you are looking at or if it is their own bad taste.

You can’t help but wonder if the real reason that dead Italian masters are dead is because their concept of cool was so awful they were hung by an angry mob or if they were graced with the kiss of death as a result of old age.

Had it not been so awful you would have been watching your step. Instead your smartphone made you fumble and you walked right into her. Or maybe it is more accurate to say that you almost knocked her down a flight of stairs. You can’t forget how wide her eyes got when she almost fell or how thankful you were that she didn’t.

The people down below told her that you threw your phone so that you could catch her. They said that you wrapped her up in your right arm and that it almost looked like something you would see in a ballet.

That made you laugh. You aren’t suave, debonair or graceful. Later on she told you that the first thing she noticed was that your arms were really solid, but you never would have guessed she had noticed. Not after that look or the way she yelled at you for being careless.

When you let her go she walked the stairs past you and never looked back. You know because you stared at her the entire time. At first it was because you felt foolish and tongue tied. A mumbled apology was ignored, but her legs weren’t…at least not by you.

You remembered thinking that you would have to be blind, dead or gay not to imagine what it would be like to have them wrapped around you. She walked away while your mind raced for the kind of snappy line that would get her attention.

You needed something that wouldn’t make you seem like a stalker, sound like a fool or make her feel threatened in any way.

Later on you sat on the bench outside and wondered if this was real life or a dream. It was all too easy to picture a flash mob materializing out of the thin air and dancing around that bench you were sitting on. Upon second thought you had this image of being the bad guy in a Aretha Franklin video. It was all too easy to see her and her backup singers pointing their fingers at you.

Reality sets in and you remember that you aren’t a hero nor are you a villain. You are just a regular guy and maybe that is enough. Maybe you are over thinking it all, spending too much time trying to be someone else when what you really need to do is just be you.

So you wander back over to the house that wants to be a museum and rejoin the fundraiser. She is standing in the hallway talking to another woman but when you make eye contact she doesn’t look away.

“My name is Jack and I am really sorry about what happened. I would really like to buy you a cup of coffee and I promise not to spill it on you or trip you.”

Editor’s Note:  This is a piece that I wrote that originally ran here. I have an original unpublished piece that I will probably share next week. I want to do some work on it first.

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I Know Things

Author’s note: Technically this ran over at the main blog but I wanted to participate in the Speakeasy at Yeah Write. I wrote a different post for it but decided not to use it for the Speakeasy. It is called I Am Dead Now and you are welcome to read it if you want. This one isn’t quite so dark.
Hope you enjoy it.


We’re standing on the balcony staring out at the sunset. You’re barefoot wearing nothing but that sun dress I like. I am in my usual shorts and a t-shirt. Our drinks rest on the table next to us while dolphins play in the sea below us. Great splotches of orange, red, blue and magenta are painted against the sky. Your hand fits perfectly inside of mine and I wonder if I have ever been so content with holding hands. A silent smirk creeps across my face and I catch you staring at me. I know you. I know that look. You want to know what I am thinking but I remain silent.

You look at me again and I raise my eyebrows and smile. In return you give me that look that says that you are somewhere in between content and exasperation. I try not to smirk. I tamed you when no one else could. You know it and I know it. I am trying not to laugh and so are you. Finally you look at me and tell me to “just say it already.” You try to give me a stern look but the light in your eyes and the smile in your voice tell me all that I need to know. I shake my head silently and pull you into my arms. For a moment we stare at each other and then our lips brush against each other.

This….this moment has been a long time coming. This thing that we share has been the most difficult, infuriating and best thing that we have ever known. Against the backdrop of the sinking sun we hold each other in silence and smile. We aren’t teenagers. Those days are long ago and far away. A lifetime has been lived by each of us both together and alone and then together.  I look at you and look back towards the room while you give me a knowing smile. Our fingers still intertwined we walk back inside. You sit on the bed and I turn on a mix I made for you long ago.

Bob Dylan is singing Lay, Lady Lay

“Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Whatever colors you have in your mind
I’ll show them to you and you’ll see them shine”

My voice is a soft rumble, “what should we do for dinner?” You tell me that you have a few ideas and I smile. I have the Peaceful Easy Feeling that The Eagles sing about. I stare at you and smile again.

Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Stay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile
Until the break of day, let me see you make him smile
His clothes are dirty but his hands are clean
And you’re the best thing that he’s ever seen

For a moment you look away, the look in my eyes too intense. I walk over to the bed and gently lift your head so that our eyes can connect again. I tell you that I never stopped singing that song. Some people come into your life for but a moment, others for a lifetime and some for longer still. You laugh and tell me that I don’t need to use cheap lines to get you. I shake my head and whisper “no.”

Stay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile
Why wait any longer for the world to begin
You can have your cake and eat it too
Why wait any longer for the one you love
When he’s standing in front of you

I tell you that I am sorry. I don’t know how or why some things play out the way that they do. I have enough trouble remembering my own name. But I know things and this much is certain, whatever has happened is done. Now we have the future we once talked about except now it is real. Now we have countless hours to do and to be. It is good that we aren’t teenagers anymore because now we know what is real and what isn’t.

Moonlight fills the room and the lights dance in your eyes. We started a story whose end doesn’t have to wait any longer because our future is now. Take a leap of faith and believe.

Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Stay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead
I long to see you in the morning light
I long to reach for you in the night
Stay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead

Some things can’t be stopped, they can only be delayed.

Categories: Yeah Write | 8 Comments


“Wendy let me in I wanna be your friend
I want to guard your dreams and visions
Just wrap your legs round these velvet rims
And strap your hands across my engines
Together we could break this trap
Well run till we drop, baby well never go back
Will you walk with me out on the wire
`cause baby I’m just a scared and lonely rider
But I gotta find out how it feels
I want to know if love is wild, girl I want to know if love is real”
Born To Run– Bruce Springsteen

“Show me how you do that trick
The one that makes me scream” she said
“The one that makes me laugh” she said
And threw her arms around my neck
“Show me how you do it
And I promise you I promise that
I’ll run away with you
I’ll run away with you”
Just Like Heaven– The Cure

If you close your eyes and listen carefully you can hear the soft clink-clank of metal against metal. You’re so focused upon your task it is hard to say how long the rhythmic banging has been going on. You’re name is Johnny and you’re lifting weights in your garage. It is well after midnight and you can’t sleep.

You don’t feel much like talking to anyone and even if you did you’re friends are all asleep. It is a work night so you don’t really want to have a drink.Or maybe that is because you suspect that it won’t just be one drink and you’d rather not finish that six pack. Besides you don’t really want to drink alone.

So you decide that you are going to take your nervous energy and make use of it. You strap on your iPod and head outside to exercise because you know that you always feel better afterwards. And besides it will help clear your head.

Alone in the garage you start your workout and try not to focus on June. Been forever since she was a part of your life. But some days you can’t help but wonder what could have been. Sometimes timing is a bitch and that has you shaking your head. It seems more than a little unfair that circumstances could be the reason that a relationship doesn’t work.

As you focus on your form you can’t help but smile wistfully as you think about how unexpected it was to find June. Neither one of you could have ever predicted it. You grew up in different places and in different worlds. She used to tell you that she would never forgive you for not finding her earlier. You’d laugh and tell her that you could say the same thing.

Time would pass and you’d confess that you had never been more in love with anyone or more scared. This was the kind of thing that only happened in books and movies and that made you drag your feet. She’d tell you the same thing. And in no time you would forge a bond that was deeper and more powerful than any either one of you had known or experienced.

But life is not a book or a movie and things would happen. The world outside the one you shared would come to exert its influence upon you. The timing was off and no matter what you did you couldn’t fight it. You tried. You did what you could and when it wasn’t good enough you beat yourself up and wondered how it fell apart.

So sometimes late at night you’d wander outside and stare at the moon. Looking up at that giant white orb you’d sometimes smile and wonder if June was doing it too. Other times you’d stare at it and feel like howling in frustration and you’d wonder again if she felt like that too.

There would be good days and bad days. Moments when you were determined to walk away. You’d tell yourself that it didn’t matter why it ended or who was at fault or what. All that mattered was moving on with your life. But in the silent recesses of your heart you’d never completely let go.

The bond that you had forged was too strong and too deep. And once you acknowledged this truth of your heart you began to feel better. Once you accepted that you would always love June you were able to start living again. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but it was a start.

Because the truth was that your heart told you that June was still out there and that the end to this story had yet to be written. The promises you made were still valid. The love you shared still lived. And maybe, just maybe there might be chance to pick things up somewhere down the road.

And then you took off your watch and stuffed it in a drawer because the last thing you wanted to be reminded of was timing.

Categories: Yeah Write | 8 Comments

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