Why do some people annoy me so?
They just seem fairly prone
through no fault of their own.
They usually may not even know
but really, how can they not though?
Continue readingAuthor: cksdays
The Feather
Backstory #1: years ago, I started finding feathers everywhere. It was shortly after my mom had passed away and someone had commented that a feather found means your guardian angel was nearby. Full disclosure: it was actually from a pillow that had seen better days and the feathers were stowing away on me and then dropping at various places. But, being the dreamer that I am, I like the whole guardian angel thought.
Continue readingNothing
Can one write about nothing?
Do you think it possible
or rather improbable
because as you know, when writing
words form and mold into something.
Continue readingReba Girls
I have already mentioned the Reba McEntire concert and the particulars of anticipation. It seems only fitting that I finish the story now that it has occurred. Because it is an experience that I want to remember. If need be though, you can catch up here and here.
Continue readingThe Language of Love Lost
Grief is a love language.
It is spoken from the heart
and is used to say goodbye
to lost love.
Continue readingStory behind the post: The Most Beautiful Story
Every 5-Saturday month, I attempt to write a short story. Last month’s story was called The Most Beautiful Story. Now, before you begin thinking that is a bit of a presumptuous claim on my part, let me explain. I am not claiming the story I wrote was the most beautiful. Rather, it was the pursuit of the protagonist.
Continue readingThe Daily Martyr’s Obit
Someone I know is the type
and you will recognize when I tell
because you know someone as well
that seems to nourish a certain vibe
to create and feed all the hype.
Continue readingThe Most Beautiful Story – V
79
Harrison opened his eyes. It took a few moments for him to see enough of his surroundings to realize he had not, in fact, died yet. He was still here. Wherever here was because at the moment he couldn’t remember.
“Hey Pop,” his son Brian said. He held Harrison’s hand and squeezed it. “Still here.”
At this point, Harrison had no recollection of who Brian was or what he was saying. But he could feel the loving pressure on his hand and realized he was somebody he probably knew once. It made him frustrated that he couldn’t remember but there was literally nothing he could do about it.
“He’s awake,” Brian said to his sister Fran who sat at a desk at the other side of the room.
Continue readingSome People
Some make it hard on the rest of us.
They claim it’s not intentional
their methods are unconventional.
However they choose to fuss
they make the rest want to cuss.
Continue readingThe Most Beautiful Story – IV
49
Up until this moment, Harrison had only managed to go to one funeral. That was for his father nearly twenty years ago and it was awkward. He didn’t mourn his father’s death. He couldn’t. He mourned the loss of his father when he left his family years before. By the time his funeral came around, he was already grieved out. So, that was a different experience than what he felt today.
Today he was at Mrs Carrington’s funeral. It was much different than his father’s. The anticipated crowd size was so much that the services were being held in a community center. Good call. Harrison looked around and didn’t see an empty chair. He could also see people standing in the hallway. Of course Mrs Carrington would have so many people wanting to come and pay their respects. She taught school for over 30 years. Every year there were probably 20-30 students in her class. She probably made each one feel as special as she made him feel when he was in her class. That was a lot of influence.
Rachel snuggled into his arm and whispered, “You okay?”
He nodded. “She was a great teacher.”
She nodded her head.
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ck's days 