Story Swap with Erotic Author, Nikki Haze!

Today I have the pleasure to bring you a brand new story from the amazing erotic author Nikki Haze. If you’ve been by the blog recently, you may have seen a number of my reviews for her short stories. She’s a great writer and really needs to slow down. Just when I think I’ve read most of her stories, she puts out 3 more. It’s a never-ending battle and she keeps steaming along with sexy characters and encounters.

Haze and I have been helping each other out lately and not only was she a great help in me polishing up my first ever erotic story Breakfast in Bed, but she’s also responsible for my second erotic venture, Closing Time. What brought that story and the story you’re about to read into existence is the prompt you see below. We both took this prompt and the idea of writing a 500 word story off of it…well let’s just say we didn’t know when to stop. Nikki write about 800 words, and I doubled that.

I hope you enjoy Nikki Haze’s story. If you do, please let her know in the comment section below, or go stalk her on Twitter ;) We’d like to do this again in the future, so let us know you want more!

P.S. – These stories are technically part of Haze’s Quick and Dirty series. If you’d like to submit your own work, find more info about that here.

Prompt:
Female lawyer walks into a crowded bar in a rush and taps impatiently on the bar.  She collapses on the stool and waits for the whisky with her head in her hands.  Just as the bartender slides her the drink someone taps on her shoulder.

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Hate Fucking banner

Hate Fucking

Willow collapsed in the rickety wooden stool and snapped at the bartender for a double.  He was a grungy rocker who’d flirted shamelessly with her all week, but she was in no mood tonight.  She dropped her briefcase to the ground and removed her suit jacket.

He slid the amber liquid across the bar towards her and she downed it in one gulp, motioning for a second.  The courthouse was across the street so she was a regular at the bar.  Knowing her sad, sick behavior by now, the sexy bartender just gave her the whole bottle and nodded, his eyes full of pity.

Well, fuck him.

 

Willow had given up on filling the glass and was drinking straight from the bottle when someone tapped roughly on her shoulder.  She spun around and came face to face with the cocky slime of a defense attorney Shawn Tunkle.

“Are you fucking kidding me Tunkle?”

“Last call!” the bartended directed at them.

Willow shot him a poisonous look and he held out his hands in a conciliatory gesture.  The rest of the patrons began to pay up and file out.

“You’re a mess, Harris.  Giving up on the case so soon, are you?”

She turned around and tried to ignore him, but there wasn’t enough whiskey in the world to keep her from biting.  “Come here to gloat?”

Ignoring her question, he sat down on the empty stool next to her and took the bottle from her hand, tipping it backwards.  His eyes met hers as he gulped back the liquid.  The bar was empty, save for the two of them.  Even the bartender had disappeared to the back.

“Oh yeah, cozying up to the judge and playing dirty must really make you need a drink.”

He wiped his mouth and smiled at her.  “Worked up a real appetite for something.”

She scoffed and looked away, gritting her teeth as she grabbed the bottle back from him.  “Why are you here?”

“Wow, you really hate me,” he noted with mild interest.

“Oh Jeez, I’m sorry Tunkle, am I supposed to pretend I like you?”  She tipped the bottle upwards and opened up her throat to the sweet burn. Fucking cunt bucket with his arrogant fake white smile.

“When I hate someone you know what I do, Harris?”

“Enlighten me, shit bag.”

“I fuck them.”  His hand was on her knee, sliding up under the hem of her skirt.  She slammed the bottled down on the table and looked at him with her mouth hanging open as he slipped his fingers past her panties and found her clit.

She instantly responded to him, grabbing his hand and shoving his fingers deep in her cunt. He finger fucked her until she was close, rubbing her clit against the inside of his wrist.

“Take off your pants and lie down on the bar.”

He raised an eyebrow at her but stood and began unbuckling his pants.

“I’m the one that hates you.  I get to do the fucking, Tunkle.”

She slid off her panties and kicked off her heels as she waited for him to climb atop the mahogany bar.  His dick was big despite her assumptions but she told him otherwise.

“Small, huh?”  He fisted his length in his hand.

She nodded, “One of the smallest I’ve ever seen.”

“Are you guys fucking kidding me!”  She heard the bartender call out from the back entrance.  “Jesus Christ.”

Willow smiled at him as she hiked up her skirt.  “Call the fucking cops.  I’m the assistant District Attorney, let’s see if I decide to press charges against me.”  Willow closed her eyes and moaned as she sunk her pussy down onto Tunkle’s thick cock.

“She’s… ah, not kidding.”

“Shut up and rub my clit, asshole!”

Willow rode him hard as he twisted at her clit, pinching it hard between two fingers.  The bartender stood in the corner with his arms crossed, watching them her with intense interest.  Willow locked eyes with him as she came, gasping out her hatred for Tunkle as her toes curled and her body shuddered with her release.

Before allowing him to finish, Willow climbed off his cock and slid off the bar.  He muttered his disbelief at her leaving him high and dry.  He fisted his cock, lying back on the bar and jerking himself off as he swore at her repeatedly.

Hate fuck, Tunkle.  It was your idea.”  She picked up her bag and walked towards the back entrance where the bartender remained, staring at her.  “Good luck tomorrow, asshole,” she called back at him.

“Maybe if I end up winning tomorrow it will be you on that bar.”  She winked flirtatiously at the bartender as she walked out the door.  “Probably if I lose too,” she added before the door swung shut.

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About the Author:

Nikki Haze is a multi-published erotica author with a large twitter and blog following. She write’s about bi-curious and straight characters in decadent situations. She often writes about exhibitionism and group sex; usually both at the same time! She likes her climatic scenes to end with everyone covered in cum. The craziest place she’s ever had sex is her building’s lobby. She currently has over 20 titles available on Amazon

She loves to hear from fans and is a huge supporter of her fellow erotica writers! #writersunite

Website | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon

“A Dog And His Quilt”, A Children’s Story

I week or two ago, I posted a picture on my Twitter. The picture was of a book containing a children’s picture story I had written a few years ago for a children’s literature class in college. This was a fun and interesting class, but I think the project for which this wrote was written was the best part.

The basic idea behind the project was: That class splits into groups, writes a story and creates pictures to go along with it. When they are all done, the were thrown together into an anthology which every student got. The catch? The theme was quilts and the pictures needed to be collage technique. Luckily no real drawing was involved and I know how to cut things out of paper.

I finally figured out how to get all the pages (only 9, don’t worry it shouldn’t bore you too much) into one document in order to share it with everyone. It’s still a little weird in the formatting department because there were margins in order to put them in book form, I’ll work on that if I want to do anything further with this.

So, I hope you find some enjoyment in my brief adventure into children’s literature/artistry.  Please, comment if you would like :D

 

Click the title below to read the story.

A Dog And His Quilt

Samson, Captain of the Seas: An Adventure into the Imagination of a Young Pirate

Samson, Captain of the Seas: An Adventure into the Imagination of a Young Pirate

It is a day just like every other day in the town of Brummagem. The town’s people wake up with the morning light. Bright sun rays pierce the curtains of the innocent people’s homes. They go upon their routines and chores just as any other day. And just like every day, young Samson strolls off to his lessons for the day.

On his way to school he often gets very bored. Over the years Samson has created a game in his mind to help pass the time and provide entertainment. At first he occupied his time by creating mythical monsters and encounters in his head. In this sense all he did was daydream through his walks. Over time, though, his mind was able to develop these events to a higher extent. He also grew tired of living inside his head and wanted it all to be real. He started by setting up obstacles for his pleasure along the way. He had also put together a costume at home so he could look like a warrior of the seven seas.

This game he imagined and played seemed to be nothing more than a phase. That is until one day at school when he acted out in class. He attacked the teacher with his wooden sword. Luckily his eye patch hindered his depth perception and he only hit the chalkboard. He was sent home in tears shortly after. Being sent home wasn’t the cause of his tears, it was the fact that his sword cracked in half that made him cry.

This event took place just two weeks ago and Samson was still upset at the fate of his sword. In place of his wooden sword he cut one out of cardboard, but it just didn’t seem the same to him.

On his way to school today he did his best to fight off the buccaneers who were trying to overtake his ship. He did this to no avail. His ship was seized and he was forced to walk the plank.

It was as he hopped into the rough ocean waters that something glimmered in his eyes. There was a reflection from the sun in the forest, fifty yards away. Samson, not caring too much about school at the given moment, walked over to where the shine was in the forest to investigate. Once there he saw nothing. He could have sworn that this was the spot. Nothing could be seen. Disappointed he sat down on the stump of a freshly fallen tree. What he didn’t realize was that the fallen trunk which lay beside his seat wasn’t struck by an axe. It happened to be cut down by something much more unusual and dangerous.

Disappointed by his findings Samson grew bored. Moments later he caught himself nodding off to sleep and remembered that he should be getting off to school. He stood up and started walking, when all of a sudden he tripped. Samson stood up and muttered under his breath, cursing the root which caught his foot. But when he looked down he didn’t see an ordinary root from a tree. He saw the same sparkle from before, only this time it was much brighter and blinding. Shielding his eyes from the pain of the light, Samson reached down and touched something cold like metal. With both hands, struggling with all his might, Samson lifted the object up high in the air.

All of a sudden the winds increased and yelling could be heard. There was a scent of salt and sweat filling the air. Samson was swirled around with the strength of the winds and dizzily fell to the floor.

Samson was shaken awake by many strong and battered hands. The hands lifted him to his feet, a position from which he quickly collapsed back to the floor. The hands helped him to a barrel seat to recover.

“Cap’n! Cap’n! Are yeh alright?” said a voice.

“Cap’n, yeh had a great hit t’ the head, yeh did.” cried another.

Samson was still dizzy from the winds, as well as confused to the fullest extent of the word. Where am I? Where did the winds come from? What happened to me? He sat there dumbfounded, questioning inside his head. The men surrounding him clambered about.

“Cap’n we’d best be getting’ yeh to yer quarters t’ rest.” a voice from before advised. “Lift ‘em up an’ bring ‘em in t’ rest.”

“Aye!” some of the men grunted.

What’s going on? One minute I’m in the forest. The next thing I know I’m here. Where is here? Wait, I know what this is. It’s a dream. I’m dreaming up this whole thing. Those looked like pirates and this must be my dream ship.

Samson laid down on a crude bed thinking through his situation. Sometime later he was awoken by one of the men from before as he came creeping quietly through the door. This must be my first mate. Samson reasoned out, from the previous conversation, that he was the captain. He also figured this man to be his first mate, but he wasn’t too sure of himself.

“Cap’n, are yeh feelin’ any better?” the man asked in little more than a whisper.

“I feel weak sir. And I think I got hit hard.” Samson replied, “What happened? I don’t remember a thing.”

“Well, why yeh be callin me sir, sir? Yer the cap’n, notI. Yeh must ‘ave hit yer head hard, sir. An’ we had les luck winnin’ the battle, sir.”

“Battle, what battle?” questioned Samson. “I must have been out for awhile.”

“Sir, yeh were out fer awhile. Let me fill yeh in frem the beginin’”

The first mate filled Samson in on the happenings of the past hour, an hour of which the captain has no recollection. Once filled in Samson knew of the battle. It was an on going battle he and his crew have had for quite some time. It was with Latis, the sea goddess, with whom Samson had gotten on the bad side of one too many times. He often grew careless and claimed to be the ruler of the sea. This enraged the goddess more than anything else a sailor could do.

As punishment on the captain and his crew she sends out some of the most deadly and dangerous creatures know to seafaring men. Sometimes they are sharks, sometimes swordfish, and even at times octopi. In all they are much larger than most normal of their kind, especially the octopi. She makes more elephant like than anything else. These creatures spare no man from their wrath. There seems to be no end to the annihilation that can be brought on by one of these creatures, let alone a group of, at times, five.

The only way to quell the harm to the men, as well as the ship, is to retreat as quickly as they can. This proves to be difficult, but the goddess allows them a retreat quite often. They feel she is just toying with them. Each time could be their last at sea, but each time they are allowed to get away. This sends a quickly growing fear through the men of what will happen if she doesn’t let them go.

Samson also learns that he has been captain of this ship for many years. Some say ten, others say sixteen or more. Either way this means he is not merely a youth of ten anymore. He discovers that he now has the strength of five men and the growing odor of fifty. He is a man. This lone fact is what cheers him up the most. He was just in the woods on his way to school. Now he’s on a ship with a pirate crew of his own and being ever pursued by a sea-goddess of immense power. He is exhilarated by his predicament and terrified, but his excitement outweighs the need for concern in his mind.

“Aye, I must really be arrogant. Is there a way we can get back on the good side of this goddess lady?” asked Samson to his mate.

“We’ve been lookin’, sir. We ‘aven’t got a clue among us.”

“Aye,” said Samson, taking advantage of using broken English, since he was not in school. “I guess we best be startin’ to search for answers.” He slowly made his way to his feet as he began to feel stronger. “What be yer name mate?”

“Sir, my name?” questioned the crewman. “Yeh must ‘ave hit yer head mighty hard.” He muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” Samson growled testing out his newly found deep voice.

“Nothing, sir. My name……my name is Bill, Bill Bryant. But yeh and all the others o’board call me Bones. I, sir, am yer first mate.”

“Good, yeh look like a strong, good man for the job.” Samson smiled, but quickly hid it. In his experience pirates don’t smile unless battle is in the air. “Let’s set off with a heading for land.”

“Land, sir? Yeh hate land as much as yeh hate those creatures.”

“Yes, Bones, land. We must be getting out of this ocean and reconsider our situation.” Samson was surprised by what he was saying. He sounded even to himself completely mature. This was a drastic change from just an hour before. “I think our answers are best sought after outside of this goddess’s kingdom.”

“I see, sir. I be off to rally up the men. We’ll be on land before yeh know it.”

At that Samson laid back down on the bed to rest. His brain was swirling with images of his playful walks to school. But each time he thought of these past events, he was brought back to the present. Or was he brought to the future? And would that make this the past? Why would I think about those childish things? I’m living them now and it is all the more better living it than just imagining it. This is where he is wrong. Just because it seems like this is what he has always dreamed of, it doesn’t mean that it is as good as it looks.

As he lays down thinking things through the sea goddess, Latis, was planning her next attack. With each passing moment a giant squid was making headway on the ship. The first mate, Bones, set sail for the nearest port. This port was called Yarmouth. It was a little settlement at the edge of the water where cliffs dominated most of the landscape. There was a small stretch of shoreline on which the docks were set up. Pirates didn’t make port here often due to its lack of wealth, but it didn’t matter to this crew, not on this day.

“Land ho! Land ho! Get the Cap’n, Mr. Bones.” Someone cried from the crow’s nest.

Bones ran to the cabin to get his master. After shaking him out of his daze, they both were thrown to the floor by a large impact on the starboard side of the ship.

“What was that?” yelled Samson.

“Sir, it must be another monster!” Bones answered.

They both scrambled to their feet and ran for the main deck. They stumbled many times and were pushed around by the waves of continued hits from the squid. The rest of the crew ran around disorderly. They didn’t know what to do. Some of the men took their swords and attempted to attack the creature. Others used harpoons and barrel-bombs. These attacks had little effect on the squid. The captain stood, with all his might, astonished at the scene before him. There was nothing he could do but stare.

“What is our best plan, mate?

“Cap’n sir, I ‘aven’t a clue. We’ll just keep losin’ man after man if we allow ‘em to attack that ting.”

After a moments thought Captain Samson sounded, “All men to the other side of the ship! Aim those canons toward the monster and fire on my count. ONE…TWO…THREE!”

The canons fired all at once on the monster. This volley of shot sent him flying far out to sea. To Samson’s dismay it also destroyed nearly half of the ship. This wasn’t a good thing to have happen. On one hand the monster was defeated. While on the other hand the ship was nearing its defeat. There was a great need for repair.

It took a few moments for the men onboard to take in what had just happened. This was their first winning battle against one of the goddess’s monsters. But with a large chunk of the ship gone the men quickly clambered to their sailing positions and awaited orders.

“Cap’n what shall we do?” cried a chorus of battle weary men.

“I want all able men t’ sail this ship t’ shore. We need t’ make land soon, or else all ‘ill be lost.”

The men did what they could to control the ship. Through the confusion and determination they ship and crew made it to the port. They were received with great hospitality from the town. The people knew little about pirates. The pirates noticed this and didn’t to want to change the attitudes of the town. They decided to stay in the town and live comfortably while the ship was being repaired. Samson also wanted to stay in fear of the evils of the sea, at least until they found a way to appease Latis.

During this time, the squid had made his way back to his keeper to tell her of kis misfortunes. When the sea goddess heard what had happened she grew enraged. At the same time she was slightly intrigued by Samson’s new found cunningness. He didn’t seem to let his bravery go to his head this time around. He showed slight cowardice instead. At this discovery, Latis grew less harsh and more wondrous toward Samson.

On the outskirts of town Captain Samson rounded up a few of his best men for a meeting. He wished to discuss any knowledge they possessed on how to fix their problems with the goddess. But no one spoke up with an answer. All of a sudden, while they were in deep though, a cloaked figure walked down the path they are on. He stops near the men and begins to talk with a mysterious tone.

“You are Captain Samson, the one who angers the great and powerful goddess of the sea, Latis.”

“Yes I be him.” answered Samson with an unsteady voice.

“That wasn’t a question you fool.” The figure commanded, “You need a way to fix your relationship with the goddess, don’t you? Well, I think I know just the way.”

“Sir, kind sir, please tell me all yeh know. I’ll do anything, just name it.”

“I wish for nothing in return for this knowledge. I just ask that you heed my warnings and obey every direction I give.”

“Aye sir, I shall do as you command.”

The cloaked man told the men everything he knew. They would need to get back to sea when their ship was ready. Once there they would need to call upon the goddess, Latis, herself. An offering was the way of appeasement for Samson’s sin. The catch was that it wasn’t a material item she wished. I was to be a confession and denouncement of power from Captain Samson.

This enraged the captain greatly. But he also knew deep down inside that what he did was wrong. He rightly decided that he would do as he was told and relinquish his throne as self-proclaimed master of the sea.

“Your majesty, I have told of my tale to the captain.” It was the cloaked figure. He stood in front of the great golden throne where Latis sat.

“Very well, this shall all be over soon. Your services are over for now. Be gone with you from my sight.” The goddess dismissed.

Later that week the ship was fully repaired and the crew set sail for the open sea. Their course was to be miles and miles from any body of land. Once there the captain called out in a loud voice to the goddess.

 “LATIS! LATIS! I wish to fix our problems. Please show yourself, I beseech you.”

After a few suspended moments, the water started to grow rougher. Then from a great column of water, Latis formed. The sight of Latis upon the eyes of anyone would instantly send that person into a trance. But the sight of Latis on this day was accompanied by a face of rage and evil. The men cowered as far away from her as was possible. She all of a sudden shrank to a human illusion of herself and stood upon the deck of the ship.

“Your majesty, I bow down at your feet for redemption. I take back all I’ve claimed in the past.

You are the mightiest of all in these waters. I am a mere mortal man. I am not worthy of the life you have spared me in numerous events.”

“Stand up coward. I thought the mighty Samson, captain of all the seas, would put up more of a fight than this.”

“But…but I am not the mightiest. I am merely disillusioned.”

“You have a chance of getting on my good side. Only one chance and not, never, a second chance.”

“What ever it takes your majesty.”

“I wish to have your sword. Hand it over and I will be gone. You will have no more trouble from me, well, for as long as you don’t discover a way to become a pest to me again.”

“I would like to hand over my sword, but I don’t think I have one.”

“Cap’n are yeh still not all there in yeh head? Yeh always keep yer sword by yer side. I ‘ave never sen yeh without it.” Bones chimed in, seeing that their fates lay in the hand of their sword bearing leader.

“Aye, there it be. I can always get another sword.” Samson sadly began to hand over the sword.

As he handed it toward her, he remembered the feeling of the metal. This is the sword I found in the woods. Is this the cause of all this. When Latis’s hands grasped the hilt of the sword from Samson, something strange happened again. The winds picked up and the smell of pine and grass could be taken in. Samson began to get twirled around in the swirling winds. Dizzily he crashed to the ground.

He awoke moments later on his back. The sun was shining in his eyes and birds were chirping in the trees. I’m back. How? Why? What’s going on?

“Hey, Samson, where have you been all day. I didn’t see you in school today. I’ve been worried.” A voice said. It was a voice that seemed so distant to Samson’s ear that he barely heard it.

Looking over to where the voice was, he caught sight of a friend. He was probably the only real kid he knew that he could call a friend. When he got to his feet and looking around Samson dreamily replied, “I just had the strangest dream. At least I think it was a dream. I was a pirate captain.

Restless Storm

Restless Storm

Drip.  Drip.  Drip.  Drip.  Boom!

“Why won’t that dripping stop?”

Drip.  Drip.  Boom!  Drip.  Drip.  Boom!

“Damn it, why does there have to be a storm tonight?”

She lay in her bed, alone, as she had done every night since he left.  She couldn’t sleep, as usual.  The nights when sleep did happen to come, it wasn’t too great of a payoff for her.  Those nights were filled with tossing and turning, screaming and fighting. Pillows and sheets were thrown every which way.  When sleep did come upon her, restless nightmares often clouded her mind.  On this night, though, the sandman wasn’t in her room.

The following day started out with a fine morning.  The sun was shining and a cool breeze gave a hint at what the next season had in store.  Becky set out to enjoy this day.

The young mother, pushing her child in a stroller, took a walk to the nearby park.  There, in the shade of her favorite willow tree, she took out a collection of poems from her bag.  Aloud she read her favorite poem to her daughter:

Turn Around
The first light of morning
Gave much joy and love.
The womb of my beloved,
On this day,
Brought forth a child.
A goddess, born of man and woman,
I hold here in my arms.
For what deed does this blessing come?
I am merely a man, only me.
This child, I hold, must be a sign,
My Epiphany.
Dear Epifiny, my child,
I hence forth shall work,
Work to deserve you.
I love thee.”

“Turn Around The first light of morningGave much joy and love.The womb of my beloved, On this day, Brought forth a child.A goddess, born of man and woman, I hold here in my arms.

For what deed does this blessing come?I am merely a man, only me.This child, I hold, must be a sign, My Epiphany.
Dear Epifiny, my child, I hence forth shall work, Work to deserve you.I love thee.”

This selection was written just a few months before.  He had written it; the one she loves the most in the world.  The man who left too early in Epifiny’s life for her to know.  Luke had to leave.  His heart yearned to stay.  His heart, the only thing, he left them.  The rest of him was shipped off.  There was no way to avoid the terrible journey he was forced to endure.

Becky looked at her daughter’s eyes.  They reminded her of the girl’s father.  Her child was still laughing at the strange sounds she heard when her mother read the poem.  The good part of her day was over.  Tears streamed down Becky’s face.  They flowed down her cheeks and into crevasses not meant for a face so young.  This, then, caused Epifiny to stop her laughing and to start crying.  Endless heart tearing screams of pain came out of the depths of the little girl. Epifiny seemed to sense the loss lining her mother’s voice.

“When will my husband be back?”  She asked herself aloud, “They said it’d be a while, but how much longer can we stand this?”

In her soul, deep in the depths of her heart, in the place where feelings truly are felt, she knew the answer.  She knew that she would wait until the end of time to see him again, even if that meant waiting until Armageddon for his return.  She knew that true love knows no time.  It only knows the periods of time from when you first see that special person to the time when that person is not there, and it even continues on past that.

Becky decided it was too much for her to be in this place for any longer.  It was under the shade of the very tree which she sat under that Becky and Luke had shared many nights.  In front of her laid the field where they had watched the stars many of those nights.  On those nights the grass wouldn’t have been green the way it was this day.  The lights from the night sky, be it the stars or the moon, would cast an otherworldly silver over the field.  It was on this grass, bathed in silver light, that they used to wonder when they’d be free from the problems of the world.  They spent many nights wondering when they’d be part of the stars’ canopy together.  This they never spoke to one another, but the issue arose in both of their minds the nights before Luke was sent off.  Her nights with Luke are just memories, now, not reality.  No more nights together, no more stars, no more anything….only the love they share is present.  This will always be evident.

Becky reached her house late in the after noon.  She was too upset to even walk the same streets she had with Luke.  Because she decided to take the long way around town she it was later in the day than she had planned.  She went inside the house, fed Epifiny, and then put her down for a nap.  Afterward, Becky went into the bedroom were she laid down in the darkness sobbing herself into a dreary sleep.  The sleep she fell under wasn’t really sleep, but wasn’t really being awake either.  Insomnia is often like that.  She was stuck in between two states of consciousness where the real world is like a dream and dreams are like the real world, or they seem at least much more real than the dreamer wishes them to seem.

She heard another storm coming near.  The tears, or the rains, fell.  In her mind they were the same.  She was one with the storm, but hated the very thought of it being so.  It teared and teared, causing her to scream out his name.

“LUKKKKKKKKKKKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

She snapped out of her dreamlike state to the sound of Epifiny crying in her crib.  When she headed to soothe her child the past flashed through her mind.

Why’d they have to take him?  This war isn’t our war, not for us to fight.  We are just two kids in love.  Damn them.  Why’d they need to send him off to that hell?

When she entered the child’s room her thoughts calmed down from the rage she had just let out.  Looking upon Epifiny, she smiled.

“It’s alright my sweet Epifiny.  There’s nothing to hurt you now.  Sleep my baby.”  Becky sat in a chair rocking softly to the rhythm of a lullaby she often sang to her child.  “I’m here now.  Nothing can hurt you, nothing…”

In mid sentence Becky stopped.  She was halted by the sound of knocking on the front door. It was hard to hear over the storm outside.  Thunder was crashing and the rain was drumming on the roof.  She realized that these noises weren’t just part of her imagination.

But this knocking can’t be real.  Not at this time of night.

When she walked to the front door questioning the call from outside, she noticed that it is only 5:30 in the afternoon.  A slight sense of relief washed over her.

“Sue is that you?”  She called out to the door as she approached.

Sue was one of the few friends Becky still talked in these days.  She came by every now and then to check up on Becky.  Maybe she felt that Becky would need some help with Epifiny during the raging storm.

“Sue, give me a second.  I’ll be right there.”  She checked herself in the mirror trying to hide her tearstained appearance.  The knocking continued some more times.

“Alright, alright I’m coming”

Becky opened the door with a smile.  There was nothing to smile at.  Only a stormy scene over the houses across the street was in view.  She stood getting attacked by the wind in wonder, thinking that maybe she was going crazy.  Just as she was about to turn back inside against the rains she heard a car coming up the street.  It was a black car.   On its side door was a symbol of some agency.  Becky couldn’t see it clearly.  It was hard to distinguish in the dreary weather.  It came to a rest across the street from Becky’s house.  As it stopped so did Becky’s heart.

Two uniformed men stepped out of the car and began the walk across the street.  Before they even stepped onto the walkway leading up to where she stood, Becky knew what had happen.

“WHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYY?” she cried out as she dropped to her knees at the edge of the porch.

It was there that she stayed even as the men approached her.  What they said was a mumbled sound to her.  Maybe it was drowned out by the sounds of the storm.  Maybe it was her sobbing.  Either way to her it was an insignificant speech she had no wish to hear or remember.  She felt the same about the letter they placed beside her as they turned sharply and walked away.  They walked back to their car as if there were no winds or rains, got in, and drove off.  Every movement they made was mechanical in nature as if oblivious to what they had delivered.

Becky still knelt on the porch, her face in her hands, doubled over in agony.  The envelope containing the letter lay beside her still, as well.  It bore the insignia of an eagle.   That was all that was still decipherable of its symbol as the rain washed away the ink that had once meant something to people.

Becky was unconcerned as the letter was swept away.  Off the porch it flew and drifted down the street into a stream of runoff water and down a storm drain where it was lost forever.  Maybe the letter found its way to the ocean as a final resting place.  She didn’t care. She knew what it said.  She knew that Luke, Epifiny’s father and her husband, was dead.

Awake In The Morning

Awake In the Morning

There is a small slit of light peeking through the blinds. The early morning sun’s rays have managed to penetrate my room despite my roommate and my best efforts at darkness. But then again what care is it of mine? Is it not seven o’clock on a Saturday morning with a cool breeze, from the chilly night, still lingering somewhere in the midst of this new morning? I don’t care much about this yellow finger intruding upon this dreary room. I was already awake before its light had touched my eyes.

“Wake up! Wake up and move!” cries the sun through the nook in the blinds.

“I am up. What do you want of me today Helios?” although awake, my voice still seems to sound half-dead.

“It’s a beautiful day and there’s nothing productive to do in a bed…when you’re woman is four hours away.”

“Fuck off, Helios. Just go fuck yourself for that comment.”

But Helios, the Greek god of the sun, is right. There is nothing a bed is useful for after waking. Not without my girlfriend here. With her in my arms, sleeping well into midmorning, I would proclaim that a good, if not the best, reason to stay away from the sun’s bright hands. There’s that look of utter peacefulness on a woman’s, at least her, face when she’s deep in sleep. There is no camera, but my mental picture taker, that can capture this phenomenon.

My girlfriend sadly, as Helios has taunted me, is not here to enjoy the birthing morning with me. She is sleeping alone in her own bed at the moment. Soon to wake up, get ready for work, and be on her way. In less than twelve hours, though, my love will be in her car driving to visit me.

“Stop torturing yourself fool!” exclaimed Helios.

“I told you to go fuck off. I’m getting up. So stop bitching you little good for nothing, high, and mighty gas-bag.”

Just then the light left the room and all seemed black as if Hades himself had entered the room.

A moment later the golden finger of Helios breached the inner sanctum that is my room yet again. Did he really shut himself off at my comment as if to say: “I’ll show you who’s good for nothing.”?

No, my imagination is just getting the best of me this morning. It happened to be that the rotation of the fan on the windowsill had caught the one misplaced piece of the blind and forced it closed tighter than the rest. Then with its movement the fan opened the blinds again. For all I know this was going on since I had woken up. Sometimes, though, in a state of being half awake stranger things than the sun shutting off seem to be possible.

So, I guess now I’m up and awake; on to starting my day. At least mornings are my most productive time in the day. This is the case in during summers, at least, when I have no classes to wake up for. Many summer mornings, when the sun is still young and the night chill still lingers and the earth’s precious offspring begin their mourning song to the passing night, I take it upon myself to step out into the new day and take all that it has to offer me. During the semester it is harder to find motivation to wake up that early. Students, like me, seem to know that those extra minutes of lying in bed seem so important. Maybe it is because we think it will hold off the onslaught of stress brought on during a regular day. Others just need their sleep.

Today I won’t fight the urge to prolong the day. I throw on my shoes and grab my keys. As I step through the resident hall’s main door I give my formal good morning to Helios by squinting at his beautiful majesty and thanking him for life. This is a way to make up for my earlier confrontation. But me and Helios go back a long way. There have been many mornings of squabbling in past encounters.

I head off left out of the door toward the bike rake. A good bike ride is a good way to start a morning like this.  As I step onto my bicycle, after unlocking it from its corral-like prison, it begs me to go.

“Off into the vast unknown, sir” Pandora, my bike, half asks, half announces.

“I think that is a swell idea old friend. Let’s be on our way.”

And off we went; old Pandora, curious discoverer of the unknown, and me the drifter who found roots in the world. They may be long roots linking me to another’s heart but they are roots indeed. Where shall I go? What road shall I take?

“Pandora,” I scream through the rushing morning air.

The chill penetrates my soul through my bare chest and exposed legs. My body only covered by shorts. Dressed like this I can become one with the morning that surrounds me. It has shown itself to me. In turn I shall not shy away myself from it.

“Yes, sir, you said something?” obeys Pandora, my faithful metallic steed.

“Through the mountains we ride. It is time to kiss my flower’s lips. These roots may be long but they are strong. But her petals still need my touch as I need hers.

“So on we shall go through those mountains, on past the rivers and lakes, on to My Love and with the straightest path we steer. Onward sweet Pandora, onward through the sunset and the night. Luna shall help us tire not while she bathes us in her moonlight.”

What a glorious day this will be.