Minutes after the photo was taken, Gary squeezed the life out of the bird and threw its body in the trash.
He was bored with animals. Cats, gophers, and whatever wildlife he could get his hands on no longer satisfied him. He stared out of the window, thinking of the children in his neighborhood; wondering at the logistics of pulling off such a crime.
The Lovely Bones, Gary recalled, depicted an exciting underground possibility. With sly purpose, he withdrew a piece of paper from the nearby printer, thumbed the lead of a pencil, and proceeded to draw up plans.
Somehow, my husband and I landed on our feet, and this year has been about repairing our marriage and finding a new path. But it’s not solid ground for me yet.
Perhaps there is a void that I hadn’t noticed. Perhaps it has been swelling and growing for sometime. I’m not sure what caused it; maybe it was left there when my husband took on some of the burden of our family life which had been mine to carry for so long.
I have stopped meditating. I am exercising hard. I am also drinking more than I should.
And, I have stopped being creative.
I am floundering. Directionless. In a mental, physical and spiritual rut. Feeling lost today and upon reflection of the situation, am quick to tears.
Holly stood on the bow. Was it the bow? Or the stern? Did ferries have those things, she wondered. She had purposely taken the last trip to Tangier Island to escape Roger, feeling simultaneously anxious and guilty. Their boys slept in the empty cabin, aware of the urgency and the reasons but after a long road trip, they could ask no more questions. Holly touched her black eye and imagined a life without fear or rebuke for her little family.
The dock approached but Holly froze; her father lay motionless on the ground. Beside him, Roger waited, gun in hand.
April stared forlornly at the arrangements. The tall one was a bit sparse and the little one looked like something her Grandmother might have on the dining room table. Still, she longed for someone to think enough of her to send flowers to work.
Imagine her coworkers’ reactions! “She’s just the receptionist.” They’d say, incredulous. “She lives alone with her cats, and wears dowdy clothes!”
Maybe, April thought, she’d fix it so that “someone” did think of her that way.
She continued staring at the flowers, knowing full well that the deception would only serve to make her more miserable.
Emily rolled her eyes, wishing she’d not worn the hoodie; it had been cooler at dawn but now she was sweltering. And irritated. Todd’s fixation with cars was sufferable back home but on holiday, she thought he should adjust his priorities.
“Todd!” She stamped her foot. “We’re not at home y’know. Stop fawning over your silly cars!”
Finally, he looked at his girlfriend. “I love cars, Em. Elegant or ugly, they’re amazing machines.”
With that, he saluted her, climbed in the taxi, and left her standing alone.
Today, I have a sense of being okay with the now; being at peace with what is.
I am not the weight I want to be but I’m finally feeling the fire in my belly, and more able to resist stuffing my face with m&m’s all day long.
I am not sure in which direction my marriage is headed (although it feels more positive and healthy than it has in a long time) and I’m okay with it being where it is. It is a work in progress. Unlike the entity it was prior when it was just work.
I am in limbo with my soul. Not stalled in my exploration, but rather floating on a sea of tranquility. A real sense of now. Here. This moment. And this moment. Peace. Calm.
I’ve been on wp for four years; quite prolific for the first two but dropped off considerably after that. When I return to occasionally purge, there are a few sites I gravitate toward and Val Boyko is one of them. The very name of her page Find Your Middle Ground feels exactly where I am.