I remember the last day as if it were yesterday. The morning began as perfect as a painting, with a peaceful sky smiling on the golden field. We held hands and ran to the secluded picnic site. You were thrilled with the impulsive bouquet I gave you, and my soul felt light with love.
You stumbled and I caught you, hoping your ankle hadn’t twisted, but that was the least of our problems. We both looked down at the same time and saw the bones sticking up from the dirt. Of course, we had to call the authorities, and then began not only the homicide investigation but also everyone’s inquisitive noses poking into our private business.
Reality roared into our relationship like a steamroller, and events collided so quickly it was hard to keep track of their sequence. You didn’t put up a fight as your husband repudiatedyour entire marriage and left with your children. I was forced to choose my own family over you, a decision I still question to this day.
No one really believed we were engaging in the dark artsof the cult that buried those bodies, yet our reputations suffered fatal damage regardless. People will always blame the woman more than the man in these situations, though it was I who seduced you. The guilt hangs heavy on my neck like a chain of stones.
All I can do is offer bouquets of wildflowers to your final resting place, as I remember better days.
Some may prefer circles:
Crisp cookies inviting
With chips so delicious
Or spices exciting.
And I know there are those
Who crave sugary squares:
Lemon bars yummy
And brownies to share.
These geometrical treats,
I beeline for the triangle:
Cherry pie, tart and sweet!
“You’re just a mooch,” she ranted. “You take no accountability for your behavior and I’m tired of it!”
His silence further enraged her and she felt driven to continue berating him. “Every morning when I leave for work you’re just lazing around doing nothing. And when I get home you expect my undivided attention. Well! How about cleaning up after yourself? Maybe that would put me in a jolly mood. What do you have to say to that?!”
He licked his paw and said, “Mrow.”
“Awwww,” she melted. “You’re lucky you’re so cute!”
This part of the coast wasn’t gentle and calm, but rough and wild, too dangerous to surf. Boulders rose out of the water like majesticdragon spines and broken glass littered the shoreline. She found the scene appealing, for it matched her savage mood. She had no desire for her fierce energy to go back into hiding; she wanted to nurture it to its fullest potential. Would that lead to her ruin? She didn’t know. But she would now attempt to live as she pleased, no matter the outcome. As the fiery sun sank into the swirling sea, she knew it was time to begin.
A few weeks ago, I went on a jolly Christmas binge and watched several holiday romantic comedies. I even wrote about my reactions on Medium. One prevalent theme was the glorification of rustic simplicity. So often, our protagonist can’t find love until he or she leaves a city and heads for the countryside.
Usually the departure is an impetuousone ~ or a complete accident. The protagonist doesn’t even realize they’ve been rushed, overworked, rude, cynical, etc., until they find themselves forced to relax in some charming small town where everyone is kind and helpful and filled with generosity. The message is relentlessly hammered home that city life is bad and rural life is paradise.
This theme annoyed me. I say people are the same everywhere and you can find nice folks in cities as well as bullies in small towns. I should know: I went to high school in a crappy little suburb and had to deal with a lot of jerks. Not to discountthe idea that there are mean people in cities! But according to the holiday romcoms, not only are cities bereft of any holiday spirit, but also you can’t find love until you leave. 🙄
I guess those scriptwriters never heard of “Silver Bells.” 🎶💕
As he catches the faint jingle of Christmas music, his mind drifts to thoughts of what he’s missing. He remembers the festive decorations welcoming all to a warm and lively home. Family, friends, fun, food… the last time celebrating an auspicious occasion: he’d been promoted to a manager role and was relocating.
The real estate broker assured him that the condos were just like a real house. Their descriptionincluded key words such as sunny and inviting and cozy. Cozy would be the most apt, he thinks as he nukes a frozen dinner in his tiny kitchen, resigned to spending the holiday alone. No point in going out and trying to make new friends on Christmas Eve when everyone is wearing a mask.
He walks to the window and gazes into darkness. A lonely strand of holiday lights twinkles around the palm tree in front. He has the notion to stroll outdoors and check the other windows to remind himself that he isn’t the only person on the planet. Out of habit, he goes to grab a coat, but then realizes he doesn’t need one.