Feeling Flat

     I finally finished (as in totally finished) my novel. No, it's not a great American novel. It's just a love story. I have not sent this one for others to read. I seldom get feedback on my novels that are truly sincere if I get feedback at all. My best friend did tell me that one was "predictable" I re-read it later and agree; it now sits waiting for a re-write or the recycle bin. I'm not in the mood for it right now; it's not going anywhere soon. I may chop it into itty bitty pieces and feed it to y'all. ;-)

I like this one. Let the publisher tell me it's garbage or not. I need to figure out how to format it and do all the things you have to do before submission. I'm working on that. The worst part of it is waiting for them to let me know and it looks like it will be months. So I'll wait…

    

Anywho, it's left me feeling flat and let down. I loved most of my characters, didn't like one but then he's the one not to like. I'm going to miss them for a while until I find someone equally attractive (or hateful) to write about. I sit in front of my computer and the screen is blank and my mind says, "What?" and "Who?" and "What's going on?" The curser just blinks at me.

      Don't worry, it will come to me. I know it will when I smell a certain smell or hear a certain song or see a picture that will bring images to mind and I will be busy once again. For tonight though I feel as bland as milk toast.

Sunday Insanity

I'm waiting…

Hurry up now!

What's the matter with you?

Blink, dang it!

You can do better than that!

Give it to me!

Come on, a little more, just a little more!

Now what's the problem?

You're disgusting!

Come on now!

That's better…

Just a little more!

Turn pink, turn pink!

I'm waiting…

Give me some more!

That'll work!

Stay with me now…

OK, here we go!

Ooh, that's a lot better, yah!

What? You're done, that's it?

Don't stop on me now!

UGH!!!

One way conversation with my wireless hot spot.

Dirty Old Ladies

     My closest friend and I were talking long distance again. She sounded so much better than she has in a long while. We usually kill the battery on my phone when we talk. Talking about nothing is what we do best; it always starts a thread that can have us howling. Liz is quiet, quite proper and very organized. She runs and rides her bicycle for exercise and excitement. Now, I am and have always been the opposite. I can tend to be a little rough around the edges, say what I think and my house is shall I say it? It's not a priority.

     Liz became a widow last fall. She loved him so and had gone through so much with him because of his ill health for several years. She went through the standard stages of grief and surprisingly tonight I heard a little of the pain breaking away as we talked. It felt good to me. The last time I talked about the subject, I didn't think she was ever going to talk to me again. The subject was men. I had told her it wouldn't hurt for her to join some groups with men and women. I guess it was too soon. Tonight though, I brought up the subject again and before long we were zinging back and forth.

     She thought because there were coyotes up on her property that she wanted to get a gun permit.

"You need a man." I said.

"I need a man to carry the gun?" She asked.

"Or whatever, maybe you need a big strong woman?" I said.

That got a big laugh out of her, I'm sure she was blushing.

"There are some guys at work." She told me.

"How old are they?" I wondered.

"In their thirties, I believe." She said giggling.

"There you go!" I said laughing.

"I'll need someone to push my wheelchair." She cracked up.

"No Dear, just for the weekend." I told her.

"Oh, just for the weekend?" She sounded disappointed.

"Then you try somebody else." I informed her.

Now more was said and I did suggest going to a place where they had those hunky male strippers, and she roared!

I really am happy to have my old friend back to be silly with!

     

Waiting and Worrying

     Alex was horrified seeing the tornado; it was coming, coming closer. It was coming down the hill tearing up trees and everything in its path. Debris was being drawn in and flying out at the same time as it passed through an adjoining neighborhood. Taking cover in the bathroom, arms circled the bottom of the toilet, clinging tightly. The devil in the tornado howled and pounded until it had finally passed. Then a quiet took over the little neighborhood. Not a bird sang the dogs were all quiet.

     A search of the yard brought relief; the tornado had gone behind the house. Trees were twisted and uprooted just yards from the back fence. Sheet metal from someone's trailer lay just beyond and there was insulation strewn along the path where the devil had charged through. Branches lay all around in the grass. Where was their garbage can?

     Inside the house the only sound was the battery operated wall clock ticking away the seconds. The electricity was off. The phones required their power bases. Alex couldn't even call Cheryl. Questions: was she in the path, was she safe somewhere, where the heck was she? The clock clicked the seconds slowly.

     Watching through the street through the curtains, Alex could see the neighbors coming out and walking to the end of the block where the tornado had crossed over from one side to another. Walking with them and talking about how narrowly they had been missed. They could see the disaster that was across the highway. One of the houses had been moved off of its foundation. It looked like every mobile home was simply missing.

     Worry set in deeper; eyes searched for Cheryl in the wreckage that had been a store. Looking everywhere and no way to search for her, she had taken their car.

     The only thing to do was go back to the house and wait. The seconds ticked by slower. Looking around, everything was about her. Their wedding picture was on the TV. Her slippers that she loved were at the door waiting for her. Now she was an hour late! Had the devil taken her for a ride in the air? Had she been in an accident? Was she with someone else? Visions of her in the car wrapped around a telephone pole were haunting.

     Finally the car came up the driveway. Alex went tearing out the door and as soon as Cheryl got out of the car she grabbed her, holding her tight.

     "Why are you so late?" She said kissing her.

     "They had the road blocked and I had to go around. You worry about me too much." She told Alex giving her a hug.

     "The ones at home are the worriers I guess." She said. "Hey look, the power is back on. It does pay to live on the same block as one of the electric company's bosses!"

We always think the worst when our loved ones are late don't we?