Friday, March 22, 2013

The shuffle shuffle

The shuffle shuffle of worn slippers on ceramic tile echoed through the empty house. Empty of character. Empty of things. Empty of souls.

The heaviness of a tired body plopping down on the one chair left. The exposed skin slapping on the wood.

Tired, old wrinkled hands gripping a mug. Steam, hot snakes up her nostrils, leaving wet warmth on her face.

She remains oblivious to the sounds, the smells, focusing mainly on the stream of sunlight peeking through the eyelet curtain.

Shadows of a world, unknown and outside.

A sigh of knowing that one must venture out and on.

Thoughts tangled in the wisps of dust glittering in the filtered reality.
Lost on one, as it falls from its abyss. Gliding effortlessly to the tile.

Visions of a child standing in a pond. Water, cold.
A rumble beneath her feet, as a wall emerges from the depths. There is no fear. For it is her own creation.

This wall of years, highlighted by glittered life. Built upon a foundation of dreams, crushing the breath, exasperating the toiled wealth. Grow and grow as high as the eye could gander. A relief by the concreteness of it. A relief by the reality, that there was no illusion or metaphor. It held strong. Held true.

A sense of security within these walls. Rooted here for all time. Until the dying day of all known to one. She says in her mantra, justification within provocation.

Like the child silhouette against this formidable wall, she stood in the awe of her own misdeeds. Yet there are breaks in this wall. Little tiny specks. The waters trickle, leaving a glistening trail, surrounding her deeper and deeper.

No fear.
Trickles, become streams. Streams become rushes, gushes until the wall bursts.She stands with arms wide open, welcoming the deluge. Drowning her. Drowning it all, away.No desperation to halt the rush. Let it flow.

In the abyss.
The particle of dust lands. With a THUD. In her mind. Awakening her back to the present. The now. Of who.

Eyes drift to a trickle of a sound. Pausing at the faucet.

A smile pushes her cheeks. A thought, a moment, a now.


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posted by Jod{i} at 3/22/2013 04:00:00 AM, |


Hi Jo... this sounds like a great assignment... a short long story? I like the voice and the economy of useless effects - this is damn good writing!!!

Take care... I am a mommy mom this week because kiddies have chicken pox and are hanging in here {yes, the office} and think it is their computer...

Ann Marie
Jodi you write so eloquently and your words engulf my whole heart. You do know you write incredibly beautiful, don't you? What a story, i will wait patiently but excitedly for the continuation. I hope things your heart is ok re:Pam...Hugs.
I just finished reading, and all I can say is WOW!
Absolutely beautiful!
The particle of dust lands. With a THUD. In her mind. Awakening her back to the present. The now. Of who.

Oh your good..loving this.
Clear as a bell.
Never a disappointment.
Stop over, Love TJ
Wow girlfriend, you rock!!

Jodi, this is beautiful. Oh the assignment can wait as long as you keep writing like this. :D

You never produce anything less than wonderful, do you?

The dumb but cute one
Oh lovely, I feel much calmer now -

This is Day ONE in my smoke-free lungs and I'm hating every minute of it!


Love and light,
Excellent writing, Jojo. Can't wait for the second installment!

My Blog
You never cease to amaze or inspire me Jou...thank you. What a beautiful piece...waiting for more, please. ;) C.
  At Sat Apr 22, 05:03:00 PM EDT Anonymous Anonymous said:
Sorry its been so long since ive left a comment , i never stopped reading , just been in a bit of a "word" slump .
Loved this piece of writing Jodi , i take it we will be seeing the next instalment soon , hope all is well and hopefully be back soon x
I have come back and read this three times. Thank you, and boy, you are good... Margo
Hmmm, this needs another read. The whole 'warm mug' got me really focused on wanting coffee. And at this time of night no less.