Preface

            I felt a dark presence quicken its pace as I ran through the woods; leaves barely hanging on the branches as the half moon spilt through the almost naked wooden figures. I leapt over tree roots and ducked under low hanging limbs. Looking over my shoulder periodically I only found the hooded creature had gained more ground in its pursuit of me. Suddenly I was on my knees in my flesh once more; feeling the cold mud seep through my already tattered jeans. I looked down to see the culprit of my fall; a solitary tree root. What had forced me to change back I didn’t know.

The predator’s scent snapped my attention back to the problem at hand. I turned around quickly, still in my kneeling, vulnerable position. The hooded figure advanced on me slowly, knowing I couldn’t escape him now. Before I could scream a hand snaked around my waist and lifted me of the ground.

            A distinctly male voice shushed me as he cradled me like an infant. His scent was intoxicating and would have been calming if I had not spent a good part of an hour being chased by a dark, evil being. That is what I got for going off on my own, I figured.

            “When I put you down,” the male whispered in my ear, “I want you to close your eyes, you should not see what is about to transpire. Can you do that for me?” he asked as I watched the hooded creature bend into an attack position. I nodded and he released me.

            I ran to a nearby tree and hid my face feeling shameful. Screeching and roars assaulted my mind. I covered my ears to block out the noises when suddenly there was a gut churning cracking of bone on bone and then silence. A single owl was the only thing heard and even he sounded haunted by what occurred. My mind swum with what happened not ten feet away from me; I wanted to look but remembered his words.

            The ground beneath me disappeared as I was now being carried, reverently, to safe haven.

            “Don’t fret my love, it’s over with now,” I heard my unknown hero’s voice say. “You’ve been very brave.” And with that, to my undying shame, I fainted.

OH HENRY!

“And that is why Henry is now brown,” the mother told her son as they sat in front of the hamster cage.

The little boy leaned in to see the hamster running on the wheel. “Because he was on vacation?” he seemed confused.

“Yes, everyone gets a tan on vacation,” she shrugged.

“Why is he smaller though?”

“He didn’t… like… the food there,” she asked more than stated.

“Did he get a haircut as well?” The little boy was unbelieving.

“Of course, you know how Henry liked to look nice and was always cleaning his fur.”

“Hmm…” the little cocked his head to the side.

“I’ve got a gift for someone,” the boy’s father walked into the room carrying a shoe box.

“My Nike’s I asked for?” the little boy’s face lit up.

“And you thought I forgot,” he handed the little boy the box and nodded arrogantly to his wife.

The boy’s freckled face was in shock with horror as he lifted the top. “Henry!” he exclaimed.

The wife turned to her husband. “You buried the wrong box didn’t you?”

The husband nodded slowly. “Yep.” 

Victory

Only warriors here rise and fall.

Only warriors tell their tale at all.

For if in just that moments wake.

When sorrowful eyes did last breath take.

Hand in hand with death did go.

Like a friend a coward does know.

When in this cold, cruel life does stand.

Fixed our lives on shifting sand.

Only the bravest are those who greet the day.

Only fools cast their life away.

For in this life it is but trials.

No gleeful joy.

No smiles.

Just vile.

Searching for that moment when.

To face the man you knew once then.

In the mirror he does show.

A hollow piece of a time long ago.

But he is the victor who dares to see.

The next day of tragedy. 

Killing Nate Softly... Again

It wouldn’t be difficult, lord knows he gave me enough reasons to do it. I would have an alibi because I knew his schedule. Every evening at 9:45 he would come into the house take off his shoes leaving them in the middle of the living room without a care to who picked them up, announced he was going to take a shower, and then would sit in a computer chair for two hours playing a violent video game gorging himself on left over pizza. I had watched enough crime scene investigation shows to know precisely how the deed needed to be done. I would set out the pizza as I always did, along with his two liter of regular coke, because in his mind diet coke led to cancer. Ironically his end fate would be that of a cardiac arrest caused by the high dosage of heart medication I slipped in between the cheese and crust of his favorite pizza from his favorite place that charge way too much in my mind. Exactly at 10:35 he would complain of chest pains and would slowly slip away as I would be at my friend Nadine’s for our weekly get together. It was fool proof unlike my last attempt to get rid of the rotund man that drug me down and caused my life misery. Was it too hard to recycle? I purchased the containers, I labeled them, I set them next to the regular garbage can two inches away precisely; I measured. But time and time again what do I find in the black trash can marked garbage only? A plastic coke bottle carelessly lying on top of a heap of non recyclables. I had, had enough.

I put on my favorite pink dress with the white satin sash, my pearls were in place. I brushed my hair and smiled at myself in my mirror. The pizza was already in place and so was his sugary beverage. I heard the door open and him yawn. I rolled my eyes as I heard his shoes hit the floor as he careless threw them off. I waited till he was in the shower before I said my goodbyes. I heard the shower start up and the curtain pull. I would make my escape hoping my heels made very little sound on the hardwood floor. I stepped over his unsightly shoes with a sneer until I heard him scream and then a thud. I turned quickly. I ran as quickly as my pink stilettos would carry me to the bathroom. I pulled the curtain to see his lifeless body on the floor of the bathtub his head running red and the soap… I rolled my eyes wishing I had thought of this first. The oaf had slipped. I bent down and checked for a pulse. I smiled when I felt nothing. I quickly jumped up and disposed of the pizza. Carelessly throwing the cardboard box in the trash can. I could be forgiven this once. I called EMS quickly and acted as concerned as any wife would be. They came as I clung to my pearls and pretended to be too over grieved to enter the bathroom. I had made sure to cover him up with a towel and turn the water off. I owed that to him. They took him on a gurney and received my tear stricken story.

But in reality I was quite elated. This time I was free and I was off the hook. Until a very studdly EMT came in to give me the good news that he had been revived. I stomped my heel and gritted my teeth. Maybe he would still want pizza? I thought. 

Killing Nate Softly

I looked at his body. Two years I had invested my time, effort, energy, and emotion in him. I had let my walls down, I had built up new walls to keep us safe; he was my everything. I protected him, cherished him, he was my best friend, confidant. But as I looked as his large frame on the floor, now lifeless, I felt… content. I smiled to myself and straightened out my apron. I patted myself on the back for doing the deed without a drop of blood spilt on my clothes. This was my favorite apron, pink with laced pockets. I stepped over the body feeling some elation that even in heels I could step over a rotund man without tripping. Fifteen minutes until guests would arrive and still he refused to change out of his sweat pants and hoodie; one less thing I had to worry about I supposed. I looked around the room to make sure it was perfect. Candles burning on the coffee table, apple cinnamon; my favorite scent it reminded me of Christmas. My wall hangings perfectly straight and the future newly polished with a hint of lemon zest. I smiled as I pulled my curls behind my ear. Everything was perfect and then… I looked down. What to do with him? My dinner party would surely notice a body in the center of the room. I looked to the hall closet. I could lean him up against the ironing board and spray some febreeze. Ironic the same ironing board I used to iron so many of his pants… did I ever get a thank you? No. I took his pudgy hands in mine and drug him out of the living room and into the hall. My perfectly manicured nails strained against his large frame as I hauled him off the floor and threw him into the closet. He began to slip as I leaned him against the ironing board. I shoved him back up. Finally he stayed. I looked at his blue face and the bruises that began to form around his neck. The same shape as the pearls I played with in my pocket. I was just glad I finally got his eyes to close… even though they were dark and blue and slightly bugged out. I shrugged my shoulders as I shut the closet door. I walked away and heard his body fall completely. My dinner party went off without a hitch. We drank wine and talked politics. We ate chocolate mousse until we all heard a bang from the hall. I stood up from the table and reassured my guests to sit and relax. Before I made it around the table the rotund man I had thrown in the closet earlier fell into the dining room.

“Nate,” I gasped throwing my hand up to the pearls that I now dawned on my neck.

He gasped and sputtered on the floor finally hauling himself up to his feet. “Did you try to kill me?” he shouted between gasps.

I looked around at my dinner party and back at him before I responded. “You wouldn’t do the dishes.” 

In the Pub - Dialogue Exercise

"Good work," his friend said as he held up a pint, "With the wee people and all."

He sighed. "It won't make a quid I'm afraid." 

"It's not all about that," his friend waved his hand. "It's when you get an idea," he pointed to his head, "You have to put it down on paper. I've got one keeping me up at night now as it is." 

He smirked. "Alright Clive let's hear it," he gripped his pint in anticipation. 

"Nah," he crossed his large irish arms, "You wouldn't be interested."

"I've got to hear it now you brought it up," he probed.

"It's about witches and dwarves that sort of thing. Nothing as grand as yours."

He spit out his beer. "Dwarves?" He exclaimed.

"Ha, don't get all upset. It's nothing like your story. Mine has a lion and set in modern times. I was up so late writing I put St. Nicholas in it. I don't know if I'll keep him." he thought outloud.

"It better not have elves," he warned jokingly. "I know a lawyer."