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Posted in Fiction

The Moving Room (Part I)

The Sunday morning air cooled the car through the open windows, as Daisy and her husband Ed sped down the country road. Birds flitted across from one side of the road to the other. Trees swayed, as their leaves waved and clapped.

Daisy gazed out of the passenger side window as she lay her head back against the head rest. A slow breath in and out helped to clear her mind as the drone of the car trudged along the gravel strewn road. Her favorite. As they passed each house, she imagined what they looked like on the inside and what life would be like if she lived there. It wasn’t that she and her husband didn’t have a nice house. They did. But there was always a better one out there. Within the last five years they purchased three homes, but they only owned one. After moving in to a new house, she would become bored with it after a year and want a new one. There was always something out there that was better.

Today was no different. Her husband drove as Daisy’s eyes remained on the hunt for that new house that was that much better than what she had. Yes, it was there somewhere. And she would find it.

“This is ridiculous, Daisy,” complained Ed. “Why can’t we just stay in the house we have?”

“There is a better one. I know there is. That diamond in the rough. The one I won’t get bored with. We’ll never know unless we keep looking,” replied Daisy.

Ed glared at his wife. The back of her head faced him has she continued staring out her window. Oh how he’d love to have a remote control passenger side door that he could open with a button. Then he could take a pair of scissors, cut her seat belt off, open the door, and shove her out to the curb, all while driving down the road at high rate of speed.

(To Be Continued)

Posted in Fiction

Lights of Fantasy (Part IV)

“They are other worlds,” replied her grandpa.

“How can that be? There is only one world. That’s the one we live in.” Then she recalled the moving eyes in the pool that afternoon. She took a deep breath and let it out. This whole thing was too much. “Grandpa, you’re being silly.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.” With her eyes still on the twinkling lights, she felt her grandpa’s pointed stare. His sinister voice took on a whole other level of sinister. There was a heaviness to it. She glanced at him and did a double take. His nostrils flared, and his skin reddened. “Grandpa? I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

“You don’t believe in the lights. Do you?” her grandpa asked.

“I think you’re putting me on. You know. Like grandparents are supposed to do. Tell their grandkids stories.”

“Tell me, did you eyes in the pool today?”

Lily blinked several times. How would he know to ask that? “Y-yes. Why?”

“They were your eyes.”

“My eyes. That’s impossible. My eyes are right here,” said Lily pointing to her eyes.

Her grandpa took a step toward her and continued to stare at her.

“Grandpa, you’re scaring me.”

“No need to be scared. You see. You are going to one of those worlds, just like you did the past three times. Then you will come back, or your eyes will, and look up at you from the pool. This process will continue until you finally believe me about the lights in the pool.”

“I-I-I believe you. I believe you. Please, don’t make me go away,” replied Lily backing away from him.”

“It’s too late, bug.”

Her grandpa took both sides of her neck in his hands. He squeezed until she blacked out. When she came too the next day, her eyes stared up from the pool’s water at herself who was standing on the side of the pool. Her eyes glided with grace as they moved back and forth.

(The End)

Posted in Fiction

Lights of Fantasy (Part III)

I took a few careful steps backwards, not taking my eyes off the moving eyes gliding along in the water from one end of the pool to the other. Then I stopped, scrunched my eyes shut, and shook my head. When I opened them, the floating eyes in the pool were gone. I stood there for another moment scratching an itch on my elbow. She jumped at a noise behind her. It was her mother.

“Lily?”

“Mom, you scared me to death.”

“What’s wrong? You look pale.”

Given her mother’s reaction before when Lily pointed out the weirdness in the pool, she didn’t think her mother would believe her now. “It’s nothing. I think spent too much time in the pool today.”

Her mom checked her watch then looked at her daughter with a creased brow. “It’s only been 15 minutes. For you that’s no time at all.”

“What can I say?” replied Lily with a shoulder shrug. “For now I’m good.” She sped by her mother and into the house.

Later that night, Lily lay in bed reading when a small tap played out a rhythm on her door.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and her grandpa stepped into the room. “Hey, bug,” said her grandpa smiling.

Bug was her grandpa’s nickname for her since she was a toddler. “Grandpa!” shouted Lily, surprised. “When did you get here?”

“Oh, about 20 minutes ago. I couldn’t wait to see the new pool. It took some convincing your mom and dad to have it put in, but they finally caved.”

Lily’s mouth opened wide, not knowing how to respond at first. Then. “You? It was you?”

Her grandpa nodded his head.

“I wondered why mom and dad gave in so easily when I asked them. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Your welcome, bug. As a matter of fact, how do you like the special addition to it?”

Lily cocked her head and looked at him. “What special addition?” She had an idea but didn’t know if it was what she was thinking or not. After all, she didn’t want her grandpa looking at her funny like her mom did earlier.

Her grandpa turned off her bedside lamp, walked over to her second story window, opened it, and knelt down in front of it. He motioned her over. “Take a look.”

She sauntered over to the window and knelt down beside him, rested her arms on the window sill and gazed out in the direction of the pool. The tiny round glass lights twinkled up at her like stars in the night sky. She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it, then opened it, then closed it again. Not wanting to take her eyes off the twinkling lights her eyes sat glued to the spectacle as she gave her head a slight turn in her grandpa’s direction. “Ummm. How? I mean, are they glow in the dark?” Given her experience earlier in the day, she figured there had to be some oddness behind the twinkling of the lights now but didn’t want to go there just yet. “Or, they’re electric right?”

“No, my child. They aren’t any of those things,” said her grandpa.

There was a more serious tone to his voice she’d never heard before. “Then, what are they?”

(To Be Continued)

Posted in Editing

Tightened Language

When you are writing a story, whether a book length story or a short story, be as clear in your language use as you can. Get rid of redundancies and use of too many words to tell or describe something, when a few words will suffice.

Too Wordy: Joe walked as slow as he possibly could on purpose because he knew it would make me angry.
Cleaned Up: Joe trudged down the path. He knew it would irritate me.

In the first sentence too many words are used to say what one word can do. By using the word trudge, we get a clearer picture of how slow Joe is walking without the extras. Then breaking it down into two sentences makes it easier to read.

Too Redundant and Excessive Language: The quarrelling couple downstairs worked my last nerve, I thought. The whole situation was making me angry to the point I wanted to go down stairs and tell them to stop.
Tightened Up: The quarrelling couple downstairs worked my last nerve. Hmm, maybe I’ll pound on their door and tell them to stop.

In the first sentence we don’t need the words I thought because we already know the character is thinking the words we just read. It’s one of those unwritten understandings. The reader just knows. That is what’s called excessive language. We also have redundant language in that sentence. The reader already knows the character is angry so the words, The whole situation was making me angry to the point…, is not needed.

Posted in Fiction

Lights of Fantasy (Part II)

Tiny little glass bumps sat scattered everywhere. The lining of the pool was filled with them. Hmm. I wondered what they were. I thrust myself topside and popped my head above the water. Before I could say anything, my mom spoke.

“Lily, don’t you think you’d be more comfortable in a swimsuit?”

“Yeah, but wait, what are all the little round, clear bumps all over the lining down here?” I asked

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You put the pool in, and you don’t know what you had put in? Come here. Feel this,” I said, running my wet hand over the side of the pool.

My mom sauntered over and squatted at the pool’s edge. She reached her hand down and rubbed the lining on the inside of the pool.

“What am I supposed to be feeling?” asked my mom in a grim tone.

“What are you talking about? I told you. There are tiny clear bumps all over the side of the pool,” I said.

“No, sweetie. I didn’t feel anything.” My mom stood and turned toward the house. “Go change into your swimsuit,” she called back over her shoulder.

Ten minutes later I dove back into the pool. Like a bullet I shot from one end to the other along the bottom. As I passed over the clear tiny bumps, colors flowed from them. I stopped midway and watched, but when I stopped, the colors stopped flowing. Hmm. Maybe they respond to body heat. I dove beneath the surface once more and swam my way back to the bottom. When I got there, I passed my hand over the tiny bumps. Nothing happened.

Deciding not to let it bother me, I continued swimming a few more underwater laps. I opened my eyes before surfacing, and a light yellow greeted me. I stopped, floated in place, and blinked a few times. I ran out of breath, surfaced, took in some air, then plunked back beneath again. The yellow light was still there, covering the whole underwater environment.

I surfaced, pushed myself up and out of the pool, and stared back at the water. Clear. The only color from above the water was that of the blue lining squiggling from the movement of the water. I jumped in and sank once more then opened my eyes. Yellow light flowed throughout. I closed my eyes and gave my head a couple quick shakes. Upon opening my eyes, the yellow light remained. Ok, time to get out of the pool.

I swam to the stairs and climbed out. The warmth from the sunny pavement under my bare feet sent a comfortable sensation through me, as I clomped over to my towel. I brushed my towel over my long blond hair with a few vigorous swishes and patted my face then patted the rest of me dry. When I finished, I enclosed the towel around my shoulders and turned toward the house but stopped short.

The feeling of being watched and a slight movement from the corner of my eye along with curiosity turned my head in the direction of the pool. Two small eyes blinked back at me from under the water. There appeared to be no body under them, yet they moved from side to side in the pool.

(To Be Continued)

Posted in Reblogs

Is it Creative Writing? — Emotional Shadows

This post is inspired from some books, which I’ve read or dropped half-way recently.  I’ve been wondering when did this happen: A marked erosion of language in modern fiction and deteriorating standards of vocabulary. When I was a youngster, there was a striking difference between good literature and cheap novels and the students of literature […]

Is it Creative Writing? — Emotional Shadows
Posted in Poetry

The Fleeting Soul by L. M. Montes

In life you are a soul behind a mask,
hiding from the world but yet you seek
true beauty from within a natural set,
displaying gold inside your heart,
giving what you have to all, then part.

In dreams you linger strong and within sight,
but then you move and vanish from my
reach when hands behold your presence,
leaving one to wonder if you are there,
or staying away forever, ’cause you care.