No End in Sight (the rest of the story)

A few weeks ago on my regular (or not so regular depending on how you look at it) feature “Short Story Sunday” I featured a story with no end in sight because I’d written myself into a hole. So I added a survey to my readers about the ending. Still no end, until this morning around 5:00 a.m.

Be warned, this isn’t a Vampire story and (spoiler alert) there isn’t any weird ending. Also this story isn’t based on anything or anybody. If you think it is about you or me or your neighbor Fred you’re wrong. It is just fiction. And that is the end of the story.

vm_on the water

No End in Sight

A short story from Juliette Kings

 

The cold tile under her feet was always preferable to shoes. That was something her mother never understood. Just like nobody understood when Karl passed away she didn’t want to be bothered by anyone for a long time. She went to the beach where she could feel the cool sand in her toes and stood under the gray sky watching the waves for hours. Then she went home and wondered what was next.

He looked across the beach and saw a woman who reminded him of a girl he knew in college. Only this woman was older than the 22-year-old girl he’s last seen. The woman on the beach was around his age. Standing alone she watched the waves. He should have gone up to her, or at least walked by close enough to see if it was the girl who’d haunted his thoughts for the past 30 years.

After she arrived home she sat on her deck listening to the sounds of the woodpeckers. A dog barked or other suburban sounds drifted over the fence. She poured another glass of wine. Now what?

He texted his daughter back. Just a greeting from a college 4 hours away. He thought how she liked the cookies from the recipe his grandmother made up for her grandchildren. As he baked a batch to mail down to Allyson he thought about the woman on the beach. He’d been Allyson’s age when he knew her.  That was an uncomfortable thought.

Life wasn’t a romance novel she thought as she fixed the toilet handle in the downstairs bathroom. The cats came in and out to watch. One started to unroll the toilet paper. She laughed. It was a waste of time to get mad at a cat for being a cat.

The last time he’d spoken to her she’d been looking for work and thinking about graduate school. She’s said something about going to Europe. She wanted to go to a lot of places. Her selection of choices seemed limited and vague. There wasn’t anything clear-cut or normal about her. Other young women he knew had a direction and confidence she didn’t seem to have. He looked up her name on Facebook. She was there. She was sure she was the woman he’d seen on the beach. On her page were posts about her kids, her cats, literary quotes, information about art shows and scientific discoveries. She was obviously successful. There were photos of the beach. Now what? Putting in a friend request wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to reconnect, if he did decide to reconnect.

She knew he was thinking about her. She always knew.

The next morning he went to the beach. She was there, the wind blowing her hair back. They greeted each other with the usual exclamations of people who haven’t seen each other in years. They both looked good. They hugged. They made some immediate small talk. He lived near by. She had business and was visiting an elderly uncle then would drive down the highway to visit her kids in college. Their children all went to the same university. It was a start.

Small talk moved to a small café with coffee, then on to wine. The next morning she was still in his bed. He’d half expected her to have taken off in the early hours of the morning.

He expected her to ask him what he was thinking. Women always asked that. She didn’t. Nor did she ask him about his feelings about last night.

He smiled and handed her a cup. “Good morning Viola.”

She took it and smiled back. “Good morning Greg.”

“Do you want to talk about last night?”

“Last night was exceptionally nice. It was wonderful. Am I going to ask anything of you? I don’t know. Do you want me to?”

“How do you feel?”

“Good. Stop asking me questions and I’ll continue to feel good.” She slipped her arm around his waist and kissed him. “I’m not ready to tell you how I really feel. I wasn’t ready back then and you never seemed to interested. I’m not ready now.”

“Tell me Viola.”

“I enjoy your company. I enjoy your touch. We’re good together. Of course we’re different, you always keep that fact, unspoken as it was, out in the forefront, but our souls are the same. We’ve grown up. We’re the rare few who’ve learned from our mistakes, at least the big mistakes, the ones that matter.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve always known. I was just too stupid to realize it. So were you. Alright, I was in love with you. I always was but I was afraid I’d never see you again if I told you. And I didn’t tell you and I never saw you again. But that doesn’t matter now. We’re here and it is now and so let’s just enjoy our time together. I miss you as a friend. We should have kept that friendship. That was stupid of both of us.”

“Can you stay another day?”

She nodded her head. “I have to see my kids. Maybe next weekend. Or you could come to my house. Just let me know.”

After she’d left he called a few old friends to say “you’ll never believe who just spent the night.”

While Greg talked to his friends about how “together” and “amazing” she was, Viola drove down the coastal highway feeling like a fool. She turned up the music and opened the sunroof. No matter what she knew about Greg, she knew who she was, and that was all that mattered.

surf sunset

 

More Short Stories from Vampire Maman

A good portion of the posts on Vampiremaman.com read like short stories, but the list here is of stand alone stories that don’t always follow the tales of Juliette’s life with her husband, kids and assorted Vampire Mom adventures. Some are from guest authors. A good portion of these tales don’t even have Vampires.

Expect the unexpected … and a lot of fun! Click on the title to go to the story.

You’ll find Gothic romance, horror, humor and a lot of unexpected fun.

Dancing on the Beach
Morning in the Vineyard
When You Grow Old
Heart Shaped Box
A Man Should Have What He Wants
Ode to a Greek God
The Necklace
The Travelers
Perfection
The Shadow of Fire
Robert and the Key
Dark Politics
Romance of the Needles
Stumped
The Child
A Night at the Crest
Dawn of the Undead
Sunday School
The Time Travelers
I’ll Return to You
My Vampire Lover
Innocenzio D’Antonio

Are you the one? Or do I have to wait 20 years until I realize you are?

Everyone needs to get along!

My house is full of teenagers catching up on TV today. They’re watching the MTV show “Are You The One.”

It is a reality show about finding love. Nobody gets kicked off the island or sent home. There are 10 young men and 10 young women, all in their 20’s. All have a history of bad relationships. Their friends and family and ex boyfriends/girlfriends are interviewed. They are interviewed. THEN the MTV staff puts it all together and finds a PERFECT MATCH for everyone.

But wait, there is more… Nobody is told who their perfect match is. They all go and live in a house and try to figure it out. If they all find their perfect match each person gets $50,000. Each week they all get to vote on who might be a perfect match… look it up. It is a train wreck but fun. I know, I know, as a mom I shouldn’t approve of this stuff but … I don’t think it is going to rot their brains. I’d love to see a Vampire version of this show (on VTV if there was one.)

Last night all the friends stayed the night and the kids were all watching music videos from the 1980’s back when MTV was about music. They all liked Flock of Seagulls. That got met thinking…If the guys in the band Flock of Seagulls had seen Finding Nemo first would they have named their band differently? Think about it.

I'm diggin on that hair. Really guys? I wonder what they're doing now?

I’m diggin on that hair. Really guys? I wonder what they’re doing now?

Then there is that Pina Colada song (Rupert Holmes). You know the one where they guy is bored with his “lady” so he puts an ad in the paper (this was before the Internet) looking for the perfect woman. Some chick ends up answering it and surprise she is his perfect lady. Turns out the one who answers his ad is his wife/girlfriend/lady. HA HA HA. Looks like a happy ending. I don’t think so. They BOTH have the potential of being chronic cheaters. Both were willing to sleep with someone else based on cocktail and weather preferences. As far as I’m concerned they are both wearing the big L on their foreheads.

This is it on YouTube in case you forgot about it (or wish you had.) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QVdhZwK7cS8&feature=kp

Remember this one... sorry ...

Remember this one… sorry …

The point of this story is… if you had met your perfect match 10 or 20 years ago would you have liked that person? I honestly believe that over the years, before we got together, my husband and I would have gone through long periods when we would not have been a perfect match. The longer we’re together the more perfect our match becomes – either that or we just figure we’re stuck with each other. Actually we make it work better than most people. Sure it isn’t all romance and tropical drinks but we’ve built a life together. And THAT is what relationships/marriage is all about – building a life together.

A good relationship can withstand all sorts of weird stuff including…

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Including one person being the straight man and surviving the funny one (as in the case of my marriage.)

red heart

I once asked the Elders what the secret of their 2.000 year old relationship was. They just shrugged and said something about shared history and passion then they started to laugh and changed the subject.

My brother Max is with a girl who thought he was her perfect match years ago… he thought otherwise. Now he has changed his mind and she is pissed off. Maybe in another 30 years they’ll finally come to that point where it all matches up. But relationships are like socks – they usually don’t match up. Life is one big dryer. Stuff goes in all nice and matched and comes out with NOTHING matching. It is one of those unsolved mysteries, like the Mary Celeste or D.B. Cooper or The Money Pit that we will NEVER know the answer to. It is one of those things that we need to take on faith or chance or just for pure love or lust or just because it seems right.

So if you aren’t already, go fall in love this weekend. Or read a good book, or visit your mom or just hang with friends and mix up a batch of cocktails.

Speaking of cocktails… it has been a while since we’ve done cocktails on this blog. I promise to post some soon. In the meantime here is a favorite of mine that my husband won’t touch.

Summer Moon Martini

  • Juice from half a lemon
  • 2 oz vodka
  • Ice
  • 2 large green olives (we like garlic stuffed and NO it isn’t true about Vampires and garlic.)
  • A slice of lime if you have it on hand.
  • 1 oz blood (optional especially if you aren’t a Vampire.)
  • Add a sprig of mint if you have it and feel like being extra festive

 Pour everything over ice. Let it sit for about 5 minutes. Enjoy.

Yes, right, um, it is time to end this post. Have fun.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Vampire Desires

Vampire Desires

Silk She is

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I’d like to introduce you to a poet, a bear of a man, a free-thinker, a man with a loud laugh and a gentle touch. A man with few filters, but a man of great words. Daniel E. Tanzo.

Celebrate with me the poetry…

 

If You Really Want to know

Poetry is the gauntlet of the human existence,
from agony to ecstasy, mundane,
profane and sacred. From Christ on the cross
to Dionysian orgiastic debauchery
with nymphs who rend his flesh,
to the cry of a newborn babe,
reaching in and attaching itself to your soul
Poetry is life squared,
brought to existence,
through an oft times inadequate medium.
So we try to connect soul to soul,
with the ink from our veins.

Copyright © Daniel E. Tanzo

 

Daniel is a tough, ornery son of a bitch, often called The Grizz (after the bear). He also has a softer side, that of a caring friend, a lover, a gentle soul and one who was a seeker of universal understanding.

And we all know that Daniel loves women! And they adore him.

I met Daniel online a while back when we accidentally came together with several other writers and formed “WPaD” – Writers, Poets and Deviants.  Within that group we formed a safe and positive online support group for writers. We also published several anthologies of short stories and poetry. Daniel was at the heart of all of these projects.

Over the years we (the WPaD authors) have shared, laughed, cried, laughed again, created, flirted, encouraged and laughed together. Daniel has been such a huge part of that creative party and support group of ours.

 

There can be only one;
it’s just the way I’m made,
I have not the guile,
nor the will, to, travel with parades.
An entourage of homage,
I need just the one, whose laughter,
is my song of blessing.
In her banter and wit,
names me Don Juan
full of shit.
There can be no other.
Other than you.
‘tis true.

Copyright © Daniel E. Tanzo

 

Daniel is fighting a battle with cancer. As expected, even at this late stage, he is still full of attitude and fight.

All of us at WPaD  already mourn the loss of our friend. We also celebrate his support and creativity and the beautiful words that will live on to touch more hearts and souls.

We love you Daniel and we always will.

Thank you to all of his friends who are keeping watch at the hospice – just being with him so he won’t be alone. Your time and love is appreciated by all of who can’t be there. You are angels on earth and friends of the highest order.

I also want to say a special thanks to Canadian author Mandy White for quickly compiling, designing and editing Silk She Is – all in time for Daniel (in California) to get his own copy and hold it and read it. It was a project based on love and respect for a fellow friend and author.

 

“Silk She is” a collection of poetry from Daniel E. Tanzo

Silk She is – An exquisite collection of poetry reflecting the mind of a most extraordinary man. At Daniel’s request all proceeds will be donated to cancer research.

I know you’ll enjoy this work and savor the words of Daniel Tanzo.

 

Click on the links below for more information about purchasing your own copy:

https://www.createspace.com/4641602

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00IYE3ZUG

Silk She Is

Silk She Is

THUMBNAIL_IMAGE

 

 

Bottom of Form

Alpha to omega
been there done that
more than twice
Shape shifting shaman
who willingly paid the price
Scars at the throat
remnants of the first death match
Charnal house to bawdy house
loving whores and killing floors
It’s what I did and where I thrived

© Daniel E Tanzo

 

Daniel E. Tanzo

Daniel E. Tanzo

Blood for Pens

Red Ribbons of proof to a disbelieving mind
Subtleties lost to the hordes of mundane drones
whose only desire is the right car and home.

We are the werewolves,
The shape shifting shamans
Of a lost proud tribe,
Actual alchemical creators
Not merely scribes.
We existed before words
And created the gods.

Copyright © Daniel E. Tanzo

 

A Need You Dare Not Admit

People won’t admit they read poetry and are moved by it…but late at night they go on the internet and search it out. It is like pornography. I’m dead serious (no pun intended). It is a need that most people will not dare admit to.

It isn’t a good time for me to expound upon the history of poetry or what caused the American population (among others) claim not to like poets. But I would like to remind everyone, especially those of us who can remember the past several centuries that there was a time that poets were the Rock Stars of our culture.

Sometimes I pull out my old volumes of favorites and read in the quiet of the night or on a rain soaked day. In turn, I also look for the new. I marvel at the many voices I see with poetry on the internet.

Part of me believes technology with recorded music, radio, TV etc maybe brought an end to the poet as a popular icon. But in turn the Internet, yes the Internet has brought poetry back to life.

I see in the online communities poets being read, not ignored. I don’t read those words online “I don’t like poetry.” I see people who NEVER would read a poem, forwarding poetry to their friends and loved ones.

Poetry is a gift to the soul. Poetry is for everyone. Everyone needs poetry, like a vampire needs blood, like a hawk needs to fly, like a fish needs to swim. I know that wasn’t very poetic but you get the point – I hope.

Your assignment today is to READ, SAVOR and SHARE poetry with someone you love.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

poetrycats

A small sample of poetry posted on this blog (Vampiremaman.wordpress.com) click on the links below. Enjoy!

For more poems on this blog just search verse or poetry

~ Juliette

March Madness, Laundry and Vampires

It is happening again…March Madness! Reblogged from March 2013 but well worth taking another look (and he is still sexy as ever!)

Vampire Maman

My husband is watching basketball. March Madness. I’m thinking more like March Insanity because I find no amusement in basketball. I’m not much of a football fan either.

The guy is a Vampire so you’d think…

Yes, you would think he wouldn’t be watching basketball as he folds laundry. OK maybe basketball isn’t such a bad thing. Let me say that again…my husband is watching basketball and folding laundry.

And yes, even Vampires have laundry. You’d think we put people in trances and have them do our laundry for us. Hmmm, now THERE is an IDEA. I put you in a trance and you’ll do my laundry and clean my house. 

But do I want someone in my house and how much trouble would it be to put someone in a trance for the sole reason of cleaning my house and/or doing my laundry?

It would be a lot…

View original post 154 more words

Living with teens and ghosts of doubt

The constant complaining about school this year is something new for me. I’m not complaining. I’m pretty happy with the situation. It is the teens.

I’ve discovered that teachers who were called horrible at the first of the year are in reality hard working saints to fight battles even the most hardened Vampire can’t imagine. They fight these battles every single day.

Fortunately and amazingly today there was no drama. No tales of overdoses, fights or misunderstandings. No confusing homework. The only remotely bad thing was the fact that the girl who sits in front of my son in physiology has a crush on him. She keeps turning back and smiling. He also gets sweet text messages from him.

Another friend is in the school musical. We’ll be in the audience of Fiddler on the Roof in a few weeks. I’m sure it will be wonderful. My own two had never heard of it. That surprised me. I think they’ll like the story and understand the meaning. Yes, Fiddler on the Roof with Vampires, only the Vampires will be watching, not singing or dancing.

I learned a friend of theirs lives in a house with 7 cats, 2 dogs and a 50-year-old parrot. The parrot only likes their mom. It has a pretty large vocabulary but always yells “GO AWAY” when anyone except MOM comes near. Good parrot.

The weekend is already booking up with plans of having friends over. I love a house full of teens and their fun banter. They are so full of life.

I dread the day when they all go off to college. They’ll still come back to visit, but I’m almost in a panic. I knew I’d only have them so long but it all brings up so many feelings. Not just about motherhood but about everything.

They remind me of when I was young, full of so many hopes and dreams. So much stupidity. I’m trying to help these kids not be so stupid or ignorant, but they’ll make mistakes. I just hope that nothing messes with their dreams and goals or their friendships.

Just in passing I thought about what I need to do with my life outside of motherhood and felt that dull ache that stops me in my tracks. I stand on the shore and watch my ship sail away without me. I’m frozen. I can’t move at all. I feel sick. My heart stops. I don’t take a breath for the longest time.

Then someone calls my name or yell MOM. Yes it is a beautiful sound. But I’m not that kind of mommy blogger. I’m not a mommy blogger at all. I’m the one who is frozen at the chance for something that is completely mine. Pandora’s box is mine and I dare not open it. I know what is inside and I’m afraid. I’m a wife and a mother and a professional (no work talk tonight) but there are other dreams. Dreams and desires that tug at me and taunt me and call me a coward.

It makes my head spin.

Then I look up from my computer and there, sitting across the table is The Ghost, Nigel. He is leaning back in the chair shaking his head slightly in disapproval. He brushes his black hair out of his eyes and leans forward and whispers, “Why don’t you ever write about your parents?”

“I have. I do, every once in a while.” I guess I have, maybe half a dozen of the 700 give or take a few posts I’ve written.

He squinted his eyes at me. “Almost never. You’re like a teenager acting like they don’t exist.”

“I don’t want to invade their privacy.”

“You don’t mind invading my privacy.”

“You’re a ghost. Nobody believes in ghosts.”

“Nobody believes in Vampires either, much less ones with parents.”

I shrugged.

“Get your own blog.” I said, tired of his game.

“I can’t write. I mean I could when I was alive but I can’t now.”

“You can’t write? Why?”

“How should I know. There aren’t any books around here on being a ghost. No seminars. No workshops. Nothing. Nobody tells us anything.”

What a liar. I knew he could write. “Wait, you’ve hijacked my blog before. You’re such a liar. You know, you don’t have to lie to me.  You can’t just show up here and try to haunt your way through things. Were you this immature when you were alive?”

“Juliette, I can only write on your computer and it creeps me out. I can’t work on a Vampire’s computer.”

“Where are your parents? Are they still alive?”

“Either way they’re in Hell, or at least I can hope. I have no idea where they are. I haven’t seen either one of them since I was 15.”

I had no idea. “I’m sorry Nigel.”

He shrugged and gave me a half smile. “Don’t be. I did fine. Would have done better if I hadn’t died.  You’re not breathing.”

“Sorry. I forget sometimes.”

“You’re creeping me out Vampire.”

I just stared at him as he faded in and out, no doubt trying to come up with something to say.

“Listen Juliette, you have a lot going for you. I mean, I had a lot going for me too despite some bad luck when it came to family. I had a lot of fun when I was a teenager. You’re lucky to have such great kids with such great friends. It was my friends who got me through, who made me feel confident and comfortable in my own skin. Of course I don’t have skin anymore but I’m still pretty comfortable.”

“I’m glad you’re comfortable. I’d hate to be haunted by an uncomfortable ghost.”

Then he came around the table, very very very close to me and in almost a whisper said, “Just do it Juliette. Do what you need to do. No regrets. Just take that brass ring. Take the bull by the horns. Take a chance. Make your kids proud of you. Be a star.”

I took a deep breath.

He smiled. “Is your heart going to start beating again.”

“Um sure. i suppose that would be a good idea”.

“You creep me out Vampire.”

“You creep me out.”

“That’s why we’re friends.”

“Love you too Nigel.”

And he smiled and vanished leaving behind the faint outline of a heart that faded away after about a minute.

Parenting isn’t all about babies … It is about a love that will last forever if one takes it seriously. It is about new friends, new experiences and maybe a ghost or two along the way. Even if that is a ghost of your own past – or maybe just a ghost.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

ghost