She’s Gone

Megan was my first love, my first girlfriend, my first kiss, my first blowjob. She should’ve been my first everything, but I didn’t want our first time together to be a pathetic showing. So I took care of my virginity with the local slut and got some pointers on how to please my girl.

The night came when I was going to deflower her. We were both nervous, so we snuggled naked under the sheets. Megan’s hair was soft and it smelled amazingly good. I’d never smelled hair so sweet before. I ran my fingers through it every second that I could, never wanting to stop, never wanting to let her go. When the time came, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take her virginity when she thought she was taking mine, when she thought she was my only, when she thought I had been faithful.

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Just an Average Day in the Panhandle

My day started off just a normal family Saturday. We filled the car and left town to the zoo. And of course, with the luck I’ve had since the day my husband died, I chose to take our girls out to a zoo that does not exist anymore. I got my six year old all pumped about getting to see animals and now, now I’m having to explain to her that I screwed up again. She’s getting used to it, how mommy can’t get anything right at first, but she knows that I always make it up to her.  

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Serial Saturdays – #1

I know, it’s not Saturday. I really wanted to use this as my first post on my series, but of course it was on my work computer. So here it is:

Intervening Fate

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“Cadie, I’m going to get a few tomatoes out of the garden. Will you keep an eye on Kurt and Grandma for a little bit?” Adilie, Cadie’s mother, asked as she donned her whicker hat and pink floral gardening gloves.
“Ok,” Cadie called from the small bedroom she shared with her younger brother. Since their great-grandmother’s stroke, eight year old Cadence and three year old Kurt had been sharing the smaller of the two spare bedrooms. She snatched her Barbie by the hair and dashed to the living room where Kurt sat glued to the screen of colorful, crime-fighting turtles and her incoherent grandmother rocked aimlessly in her ancient wooden chair.
The blank stare on her once vibrant face unsettled Cadie. Grandma Leila used to baby-sit the two youngsters while their parents were at work until last spring when Cadie found Leila laying on her back porch, unable to be roused. She taught Cadie how to make sandwiches and sweep floors; but most importantly, Leila taught Cadie of her family legacy passed down to the first born girl of every two generations. Cadie had shown signs of having the gift as a baby, but the sight would not completely manifest until she hit puberty, or “became a woman” as Leila always said.
She had felt it was her duty to inform Cadie at such a young age because Leila was getting on in years and Adilie refused to learn, even after Eugene, Cadie’s father, insisted she at least learn basic information. Adilie had referred to this request as “the utterances of a superstitious old lady” and “she wouldn’t poison her daughter with this hocus pocus, mumbo jumbo nonsense.”
Cadie cuddled into the corner of the love seat nearest to her grandmother and peered into her unseeing eyes, much like she had every day since her parents brought Leila home from the hospital, in the hope that her grandma would magically awaken. She prayed every night that her grandma would come back to her. “Please wake up Grandma,” Cadie sighed and looked down at her tattered blonde doll as a tear rolled down her cheek.
“Don’t cry, my darling child,” Leila whispered, startling Cadie. She snapped her head up to see Leila standing in front of her, between her line of vision and her brother’s back. Cadie opened her mouth to speak when Leila put her bony finger on her lips. “Child, remember what I’ve taught you,” she continued to whisper, her voice becoming fainter and fainter. “What you see cannot harm you if you don’t allow them access, block your mind, learn the signs, only confide in those you love, believe in yourself, and know you’ll always have my love. Now close your eyes.”
Cadie did as she was told and felt her grandma’s cool lips touch her forehead, a silent tear escaped the corner of her eye. When Cadie opened her eyes again, her grandmother was back in her chair, stationary, blind to the world. Later that evening, Leila Proctor died peacefully in her sleep.

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Trove Thursdays – Book Excerpt #1

Drip, drip, drip…
Dark, cold, sodden…
The passage of time counting down…
Drip, drip, drip…
My shirt is yanked off…
Hands smoothing over my stomach…
Drip, drip, drip…
Alcohol, tobacco, sweat…
“Josh, leave us…”
Drip, drip, drip…
My body’s frozen…
Unheard cries escape…
Drip, drip, drip…
Legs shoved apart by strong thighs…
Skirt yanked up…
Drip, drip, drip…
“You know you like it Bitch…”
I gasped awake, eyes wide open, soundless screams erupting from me. I was covered in cold sweat, my clothes and sheets so drenched they could be wrung out. It took at least five minutes to calm myself. “Not again,” I mumbled to myself as I rolled over to see what time it was. Four AM, great. “Might as well get up.” I still had to pack what little I had left out and move everything to the car. After fifteen years, you’d think I’d be getting over it, or at least, stop dreaming about it… Hopefully it’s not an omen.

Let me know what you think. As always, happy reading!