Short Story Scene

Mrs. Sands shoved the sandwich back into the paper sack and struggled back onto her husband’s old bicycle to start the ride back home. A jangling sound caught her attention and she turned towards it to see the dog from the picture she found among her husband’s papers. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The dog had since turned grizzled and gray, but still had a spring in his step as he galloped toward her on his long legs. It was almost as if he were smiling at her, so excited to have a visitor.  Is this what her husband had been hiding all these years?  A faithful companion that he wasn’t allowed to bring home?

He was obviously well fed and healthy for his years.  As she reached through the chain-link fence to touch him, the back door to the house swung open on the opposite side of the yard. A heavy-set, middle-aged woman in a pristine white bathrobe and slippers stumbled out into the sun as if it had been days since she’d been outside.  The woman squinted across the yard to the fence through red, swollen eyes and shouted for the dog to come inside.  The dog licked some mayonnaise off of Mrs. Sands’ white knuckled fingers and then turned toward the door where the strange, sad woman was waiting.  With her heart dropping into her stomach, Mrs. Sands watched them go inside and the door shut.  So this is his big secret, huh?

She didn’t know whether to just ride away or storm up to that house and demand an explanation.  Before she had a chance to decide, the door swung open again and the woman stood there with her mouth open as if she’d just seen a ghost. “Where’d you get that bike?!” She demanded. Unusually demure, Mrs. Sands stood there frozen in place, but managed to stammer “this is my husband’s bike.”  Mouth still agape, the woman slowly crossed the backyard and gently laced her fingers into the fence while scanning the bike.  The woman unlatched the gate and quietly said “I think you’d better come in and have some tea, hon.”  With the grizzled dog loping around them in circles, the stunned Mrs. Sands felt the woman’s hand on her back guide her though the back door and into the house.

Posted in First Drafts

The Choice of Forgiveness

Some people believe choosing to forgive is the choice to condone someone’s action. I think forgiveness is more like letting go of the role of police,  judge, and jury towards the ones who hurt us.  Forgiveness is so hard because we’re afraid the perpetrator will get off free and clear, with no repercussions.  We want fairness and justice.  At least that’s what I wanted when the person closest to me seemed to rip my world apart and crumble it at my feet.

It’s taken some time, but I think (and this is just me) that knowing the universe can balance itself out relieves the fear I have of the pain happening again and again.  It isn’t that I expect the universe to take over as the great punisher and deliverer of justice.  It’s knowing that, in essence, the universe can’t help but retain balance. That’s the nature of this universal creative conciousness.

And we don’t need to wait around to see those who’ve hurt us be ‘punished’ for what they did.  That’s freedom!  In the end, justice or balance is just an effect.  The universe really doesn’t need us to tell it what to do in any situation, thank you very much.

So, now when I’m faced with the choice to forgive or not, I try to remember that the universe, God, the One, whatever name people give it, has to keep itself balanced (yin & yang).  So, I can release the fear of being hurt, and love and give with abandon because everything is going to work itself out.  If not in this lifetime, then in the next.

Posted in My Writing Desk...

Where Did The Void Come From?

Why do we sometimes choose to relate to the one universal conciousness as a person, as a man? It’s an it. Where the heck did It come from? If the One created everything else, then what created the One?  There was nothing – less than nothing -void.  So what made the void?  Aarghhh!

Ok, I have to leave that for now and assume that the One was All in the beginning, and then it moved. It decided to move, but what caused it to decide?

Ok, Ok, so at that point the One conciousnessly chose to see and know what it created. It was still One, but not yet familiar with it’s new ‘appendage. ‘

Wheww. I think that’s all I can take at the moment…these thoughts need time to perculate…

Posted in My Writing Desk...