The writer sat at his laptop, gazing at the screen.
With his fingers on the keyboard, he just had to type it.
He knew what to type, but was fearful.
Hesitantly he began to type.
He stopped and looked at the monitor.
It read, “The End.”
The cracked mirror distorted his image.
“It will heal.” His mother said.
He stared “How?”
The anger welled up. “No.”
“It can be fixed.”
He suddenly hit the mirror and it shattered “NO!”
“Stop!” “Yes, it will.”
He paused, smiled, and nodded. “Yes, it will.”
I stopped with surprise when I looked at the ground.
I was dismayed at what I saw, two eyes glared back at me, and as they widened, mine did too.
Scared and frightened I looked away and then, as I dared to peer back, the image began to blur.
Relieved, I sighed.
I hated puddles.
Eyeing the lettuce, slowly ensuring nobody was near,
He crept forward, the grass soft, inviting.
Reaching it, taking a bite, he heard a bang.
Swirling, he tried to run.
Gnawing at the grill, and panicking, the groundhog backed off.
A man approached.
Grabbing the handle, he looked down.
She floated out, awestruck at the sight.
The Earth, the blue round marble, intoxicating.
The anchoring cable, taut, as she reached the limit, snapped her back.
Wanting to go further, she gazed back.
Reaching into her suit, she pulled out a crimper and promptly cut the wire.
She was free.
The time was right, and he was ready.
Philip grabbed his books and headed to his class.
This was the big test.
Sweating, his nerves overwhelmed him.
Students laughed at him and he hesitated at his class door.
Sighing he walked in, aware that the students were laughing.
“Ok class,” he said loudly. “Pop Quiz.”
The interview was complete, and he felt strange.
He lost the job and new emotion, jealousy welled up.
To push it down, and let it go,
He stepped outside and lit a match.
As the office flashed and burned to the ground,
He walked away, ready for the next.
The horses, beautiful and free.
“I’m leery,” I said
“Why?” He frowned and shrugged.
“Up.” my father commanded.
Fearfully I jumped aboard.
“Do you feel it?” he asked.
I nodded, feeling the power.
“Don’t be afraid. Now, ride!”
He kicked the horse but it froze.
Another Kick and the horse kicked back.
The horse moved slowly as I whispered in his ear.
That day I rode and rode, smiling.
The surgical wing was noisy, even at 1:00 am.
I turned slowly in the bed, pain overwhelming me. I pressed the morphine pump and the Nurse button as well.
The nurse came in “What’s going on?” she snapped
“Can’t sleep, I need my Ativan.”
The Nurse glanced at my chart. “Ok, I’ll be back.”
The noise level increased, making it impossible to sleep. Between pain and incessant noise, the ability to sleep was elusive.
Finally, gratefully at 2:30, I dropped off. My sleep was choppy but much needed.
At 3:30, my nurse woke me up, shaking me.
"Here’s your Ativan.”