Friday Fictioneers 10-15-2017

PHOTO POMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy

“He’s a squawker, ain’t he,” Bill asked over the baby’s frantic cries.

“You’re holding him too tight.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re going to hurt him.”

“I ain’t gonna hurt him. What’d you care anyway. It’s just a stinky bird.”

“It’s not……  it’s….” She didn’t know, but it had wings. One day it could fly away, be free.

“Dumb bitch.” He squeezed his fist around the baby bird then tossed it aside.  Onto the concrete. Walked inside.

She fell to her knees beside the tiny body, crying for broken wings.

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What Is It You Are Avoiding At This Point In Time?

A fellow blogger, Reena Saxena, asked this question in her Exploration Challenge. This question stopped me dead in my tracks. Well, my reading, thinking, tracks.

It made me wonder – what am I avoiding at this point in time? How about a bunch. A passel. More than I could put into one post.

But really, this isn’t true. Saying there are too many things to count is just another way of avoiding. If there are too many, why bother? Let’s just toss the question aside and move on.

Which, in itself, is a cop-out. So is my life an endless circles of cop-outs?

I sincerely hope not, but what do I know? I can’t even list avoided ‘things.’

So, if I brave up and seriously think about the question, what do I find?

I find I am avoiding the world right now. But no, that’s quite true. I am avoiding myself. I am out of work and feeling like anybody else in the world can get a job except me. I am often told, so-and-so called this place and got a job.  She put in an application here and got a job. He interviewed here and got hired. And on and on.

I’m told, “With your skills, you will have no problem finding a job.” Truth is, I don’t have a job. Where are these ‘no problem’ jobs?

So what the hell is wrong with me?

Sorry, got carried away there.

But I hope you get the point. Which isn’t, by the way, me freaking out about the job, but that I’m avoiding the whys or hows or whens. I don’t want to face myself if I’m somebody who can no longer get a job. If a medical mistake had changed the entirety of who I am.

I don’t want to face myself as I stand on the threshold of financial failure. The Bi-Polar me doesn’t even know how to see myself anymore.

Who am I? This is what I am avoiding.

Am I better knowing this? Maybe. Maybe not. It’s safer to pretend.

So, then, the question is:

Am I willing to stop pretending?

I don’t know.

I do know I am thankful to Reena for asking the question in the first place.

What are you avoiding at this point in time?

 

Here is the link to Reena’s challenge

 

 

Response – JSW Prompt “Winter” 9-21-2017

Feel free to join in and respond to the prompt. Please try to keep your response under 300 words. If you reply, I will re-blog your post to my site (sometimes I am slow, but I get there).


Winter, Stanza I

He turned to look at her.  “Well, yeah, where else would I be?”

She hadn’t moved and he wasn’t sure if she wanted to hit him or throw her arms around his neck. To occupy his mind, in the meantime, he flipped the two pancakes on the griddle.

“You,” she accused, ‘were leaving.”

He considered a moment.  Glanced over at her.  “When you kick me out.”

She cocked her head. “What do mean when I kick you out? Not only did you tell me you were ‘so out of here,’ you also told me you wouldn’t be back.”

He flipped a pancake, focusing on his task.  “I lied.”

Sinking down into one of the chairs round the table, she ran her hands through her hair. A sign she was upset, as if he needed one.

He moved over to sit beside her. “Look, we had a fight, we both said things we didn’t mean. At least, I said things I didn’t mean…” Hoping she might jump in, but she didn’t.

“It was stupid fight and…. I’m sorry. I messed up.” He glanced at her face, seeing the tears in her eyes. “I mean it, Ra, I messed up.  I don’t want to be anywhere but with you.”

The tears fell.

“Can we…. try again?”

“I…” Something like pain, not sadness, crossed her face.

He took her hand.  “Don’t say anything yet.  Just think about it, okay?”

“But….”

“Maybe I could say something about it?” A voice asked from the hall.

They both looked. A man stood there in sweat pants and nothing else. “You must be Daniel,” he said, stepping forward to offer his hand.

Daniel rose, accepting the hand. What he would not accept was the victory in the other man’s eyes.

“You gonna make breakfast for me, too?”

“Darren!”

“Come on, babe,” Darren said, sliding an arm around her waist. “Or should I leave you two alone to work things out? Whatdaya say, Dan, need to work things out?”

“Actually,” Daniel replied, stepping back, avoiding Ra’s eyes, “No, I think… I think things are pretty well worked out.”

“Daniel,” Ra said, grabbing his arm, “please. Let me….”

“Explain? I think I get the point. We argued last night. I left. You hooked up with lover boy there.”

He wasn’t going to show the ripping, tearing, motions slicing right down through the middle of his heart. Turning away, he grabbed his coat, jerking it on as he strode through the door.

“Dan, wait!’ she called, hurrying into the cold after him.

Their breath wove frozen words they would never speak, hieroglyphs vanishing into the cold like exhaust from a car vanishing into the night. In the end, there was nothing to say.

Driving away, Daniel pulled out the two tickets he’d purchased for London.  Wanted to rip them up and throw them into the snow, but he didn’t.

He didn’t know how long it took a broken heart to heal, but he guessed a long time. Looked like he would be traveling alone.

For awhile.