Storm

I never realized that the high rise downtown held the Federal Courthouse, art, poetry, and historic displays. There are also incredible views, even in the storm. Yes, I was there yesterday afternoon.

Even with the Federal Government shutdown there is still almost no parking to be found on the downtown streets. I finally found a spot near the old rail yards. The old rail yards is a yet to be developed area that used to be, well, rail yards. Old brick building still stand waiting to become trendy and useful again. Acres and acres of land waits for something, or maybe nothing. I’d like to see just a big park. Tracks still go out in all directions.

The active rail station is also near by taking commuters to the Bay Area and to far off places. I’d say exotic but only because it sounds more fun. Right now taking the train from Sacramento to Reno is the only way to go. I think the highways are closed this morning due to snow. If they aren’t closed it is painfully cold and slow. Over the past 24 hours the snow has come down not in inches but in feet. Dozens of feet.

Anyway, the only parking I could find was about five, maybe six blocks away, over an overpass that went across the old rail yard and tracks. On the wide sidewalks of the cheerfully designed urban bridge were homeless structures made of shopping carts, blankets, tarps, and bicycles. Across the way, and below, under more underpasses, and along walls were more homeless staked out in small groups of two or three, waiting out the storm. They’re just waiting out life. Just waiting.

I walked over the bridge, bundled up in my wool coat with my big blue umbrella. Within about a half minute I was soaked. My pants were soaked. My feet, through my boots, were soaked. Granted my boots are Doc Marten’s but they’re a heavy canvas. I should have worn my leather boots. My coat was soaked.

Ghosts stood on the bridge, on the side with the two homeless forts. They looked at me with blank eyes that stared out of gray holes in their heads. Two wore baggy suits and looks contempt. A woman in a long dirty blue dress with a bustle stood alone. Three Chinese ghosts huddled with quilted coats and  long pigtails.

I walked on. I hate ghosts. A gust of cold wind hit my face along with about a gallon of water. A ghost stood in front of me. She wore a sort coat, open with a short orange dress underneath. Her feet were bare. Long dark bangs skimmed the top of her eyes.

“Are you here to feast on the almost dead below?” She pointed down to the homeless camps. “Will you take them?” She pointed to the blanket and tarp fort across the street by the bus stop.

I tried to walk on but she followed me making hissing noises. I stopped despite the storm.

“There are already Vampires down there but I am not like them. Let me be,” I said.

“They will be found dead and cold, and nobody will know,” said the Ghost.

“Not because of Vampires,” I said and walked past the Ghost.

I know the kind of Vampires who are down there. They too live on the streets, or roam the streets then after feeding go back to the cold dark places they call home. They take what they need – blood and nightmares.

I am not one of them.

This morning I’m watching my cat, his fur wet, drinking fresh water from a bowl. My dog is curled in her bed. There are no Ghosts in sight, not yet.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

 

 

Brothers in Arms

When I read this I was touched by the power of the words and the subject matter. This is from my friend Rob Fletcher, a talented Welsh writer and photographer. Thank you Rob for allowing me to share your words.

Brothers in Small Arms

Born of metallurgy and chemistry I was:
Stamped, checked, moved, spilled and counted with millions of brothers in a grim piranha factory.
Automated, made, bought and sold with a quiet conscience of lethal exchange.

Destiny discovered fate and decreed my instant made
birth which heralds a coming death in a far distant country.
Cousins larger, nieces smaller…pieces put together quickly as
Productivity swears at innocence.

Tumbling shiny into green coffin boxes…
Stacked, steady, stable…waiting weds anticipation.
Sold in white and black markets and traded silently for a single drilled duty.
My sole mission to expend death.

Packaged and sent on a demon journey I’m:
Trucked, planed, boated and trained because my demand outstrips its supply.
I’m really wanted, loved and caressed.

Jungle appetites, African friendly
I arrive clinking and jangling…jostling my brothers for my
awaiting providence
My liaison with short life.

Strong black fingers pick me up admiringly…
I’m embraced, turned over and fondly kissed
under a hot and brooding war sky!
I’m wished upon…and I shall fulfil this desire.

Gently, I’m click-pushed first into my temporary steel curved prison along with my immediate band of siblings above me.
Then we’re snapped into our final position.
Smoke, noise and murder prevail…we are turned safety left, lorded and loaded and aimed not aimlessly.
Suddenly, mechanical release action jerks us free!

My brothers fly orgasmic allies
barrel tearing
and I explode
by engaging rifling as I spin free velocity charged, prior sighted and trajectory traced.

I speed towards a soft sweat-sheened forehead as young feared eyes see my untimely arrival and realize my tidings
bring death out of its hiding place as I thwack flesh and snuff out misplaced
youth soldier dreams in a lost sorry battle.

Fallen teen-torn blood spills from a 7.62 millimetre hole.
My slim body sent care of Kalashnikov and
with impartial human target remembrance,
bullet boy expires with diamond-fixed glory.

© Rob Fletcher. All rights reserved.

Author’s Comments:
“Death and life were not
Till man made up the whole
Made lock, stock, and barrel
Out of his bitter soul.”

-WB Yeats.

“Son, the only thing that guns are good for is making holes in things.”

-Eric Fletcher.
1921-1989.

Short Story Sunday: Gather Around Little Vampires

Gather Around Little Vampires And I’ll Tell You A Tale

“Gather around little Vampires for a tangled tales of princesses, surprised men, and clever young Vampires.

Once upon a time the king and queen of Vampires were happy as can be because they had become parents On the birth of their daughter, a cute little baby called Ameorphora, they decided to have a big party.

All of the fairies were invited. One green gave Ameorphora the gift of gab. Pink one gave her the gift of curiosity. The yellow gave her the give of a mathematical mind.

But the red fairy, who was a raging bitch and drank too much at parties wasn’t invited. But she crashed the party anyway.

In front of the king and queen of Vampires and all of their friends the red fairy said, “Ameorphora, dear baby, I give you the gift of being boorish and you shall ever be alone because everyone will hate you.”

Over the years the little Vampire princess made no friends. She was petty and whiney. Nobody liked to be around her. As she grew up she found herself more and more alone with her math books, her curiosity, and nobody to talk to.

Heaven knows she tried to be nice but it was impossible. Finally even her parents and siblings avoided her. So Ameorphora packed up her bags and moved to an old abandoned castle on a near by hill.

Years passed. Ameorphora was a Vampire so she remained young and beautiful looking. Inside she was sad and alone. So she went to sleep one night and slept and slept and slept, the sleep of only the saddest of souls.

She awoke from a loud frightening unfamiliar sound. When Ameorphora opened her eyes she found that her castle was covered in thorn covered vines. When she sat up she saw a man, a handsome youngish man come in through a clearing with loud whirling sword in his hand.

“What the Fuc…” she exclaimed.

“Hey,” said the young man, “Sorry, let me turn off my chain saw.” The weapon stopped whirling and making noise.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“We’re clearing out the old castle. My uncle is a historian. I’m here helping for the summer. What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” said Ameorphora. Then she stood up and walked towards the young man. He leaned in, as if he wished to kiss her, but she grabbed his shoulders, then sank her teeth into his neck and drank his blood until he passed out.”

Oh my, she thought and suddenly, like a great weight was lifted off her soul, she felt nice.

When the young man woke up Ameorphora asked him two questions. “What year is it? And what is your name?”

“2019, and Alex. My name is Alex.”

Alex just happened to be a Math and Game Development major at a good university in California. So Ameorphora signed up for college as well, and they became best friends, and decided that they’d live happily ever after. She turned him into a Vampire too.

The end.”

The children all clapped and asked for another story.

I will now tell you the true story of Cinderella.

Once upon a time there was a man without a wife. He was alone in the world with his small timid daughter called Elenore. As a horrible judge of character and a wimp who couldn’t raise a child on his own, the man married a woman who only loved him for his money and social standing. It wasn’t a lot of money but enough to put them in the top 25%.

Then the man went off on a business trip and died, leaving his daughter with her step-mother. The step-mother didn’t know what to do with this girl who obviously had a bad case of OCD. It was annoying but at least the house was spotless. On the other hand the girl was weird and uncomfortable to be around. She talked to animals and was always plucking daisy leaves saying “he loves me, he loves me not.” Even worse she was plucking wings off of flies and calling the poor creatures crawls. She would say strange things to people when they went out in public like, “my father’s flesh has liquified and he is now nothing but worm pocked bones.” Once she told the Baker that she’d like to sleep his oven and wake up as ashes.

From there on out Cinderella, as everyone called Elenore now, was never taken out anywhere. In fact she was the poster child for the expression you can dress her up but you can’t take her anywhere.

Ten years passed and the two step-sisters and Elenore all grew into beautiful young women. Lizzette the eldest of the girls was gifted in music. Manon the youngest of the three was gifted in art. Elenore kept her talents hidden from the eyes and ears of the world.

On the first day of spring the King announced there would be a grand ball in honor of his eldest son Prince Edward. And low and behold ALL THREE young woman received invitations.

Lizzette and Manon cringed at the though of Cinderella showing up talking of death, dressed in black and telling fortunes to all of gloom and doom. So on the day of the ball they locked Cinderella in her room and went to the ball alone. When their mother asked where Cinderella was the sisters said she’d gone to a party with her stoner friends.

The ball was splendid! Women in flowing ball gowns danced with handsome men wearing tails. It was a magnificent site and oh so romantic. Lizzette caught the eye of Prince Edward and they danced for an hour. Lizzette was enchanted and falling in love but it wasn’t to be.

The doors to the great ballroom opened and in stepped a stunning woman in a black gown decorated with black crystals and bows. All eyes were on her as Prince Edward approached and took her black gloved hand. The Prince and the woman in black danced alone on the floor, slowly like two people in love. The lights dimmed and eventually the room became black. When the lights came back on the woman in black was gone and Prince Edward stood alone. In his hand was a single black glove.

Night after night Edward became more pale and weak. He laid in bed whispering about the woman in black as he clutched her one black glove in his hand.

Lizzette heard the news and went to her room and cried herself to sleep. She was sure she was the one. She was sure she’d met a man who could dance through life with her.

Manon talked to her friends but none of them could figure out who the mysterious woman in black had been.

Cinderella sat in her attic room wondering where her missing glove was. She retraced her steps down the narrow dark streets leading up to the palace but found nothing.

The next day the sisters, along with fifty other young women who’d attended the ball, were summoned to the palace in hopes that one of them had been the woman in black.

Manon saw Prince Edward first. he lounged on a couch, handsome but weak. “Did you wear black to the ball dear girl?”

What an idiot thought Manon. Of course she didn’t say that out loud. “No, dear Prince Edward I did not. If I may speak freely dear Prince?”

“Speak my dear,” he said softly in almost a whisper.

“Forget the girl in black. My sister Lizzette loves you heart and soul. You went to school together. You know her. You have a lot in common. Why go after a woman who would run away from you?”

As Edward nodded his head as if to say no, Manon noticed two small red spots on his neck. She almost gasped but held her breath.

Next Lizzette came into the room. “Edward, my dear friend, what has happened to you?”

He took her hands in his, dropping the glove on the floor. Lizzette picked it up. She recognized the scent of the lotion of the owner of the glove. Then she noticed the red marks on Edward’s neck. “Oh no, she didn’t change you did she?”

“I have not changed my dear. Only my heart that seems so enchanted…”

Lizzette put her arms around his neck and cried.

The skies outside grew dark and a cold wind blew open the door. A girl in black, as black as cinders came into the room. “Lizzette is in love with you. Don’t be a fool and marry her. And no Lizzette, I didn’t change him. I only drank his blood. If I’d had any idea he’d be such a pansy ass about it I would have never gone to the ball.” Then she took back her glove and left the room.

As she walked back through the woods on the way home. This was one of the only places she’d ever felt calm and normal. It wasn’t easy being different. As she turned the corner around a grove of blooming dogwood trees she saw a figure dressed in black. A tall handsome man, dressed in black, with shaggy black hair and piercing blue eyes stood before her. He smiled showing dazzling white fangs.

Cinderella stopped and put her cold hands to her heart.

He held up a black glove. “You dropped this one too.”

“You’re like me,” Cinderella gasped. “You’re a freak like me.”

“Not a freak my dear, only different.”

Lizzette and Edward lived happily ever after. Manon went on to become the director of the National Art Gallery. As for Cinderella, she found love as well in her cold dark mysterious stranger.

And THAT my friends is the real story of Cinderella.

~ end

 

Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Burning Question #45: What’s under your kilt?

Animals have been hanging around on Earth for about 560 million years. During that time we’ve seen a lot of critters come and go. From humongous dinosaurs to Neanderthals some failed to make it in their pure original form.

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Be my Neanderthal baby.

Others fared better. Opossums, elephant shrews (I posted a nice little video of one here), crocodiles, horseshoe crabs, snapping turtles, and a multitude of animals are still around after millions of years, just hanging out, doing their thing. In fact, it seems like every year someone finds some weird shark, fish, or bug that hasn’t been seen since T-Rex was the baddest ass in town.

Many creatures have extremely curious background. If you’re a human with blue eyes you more than likely have some Neanderthal DNA in your system. Some dogs can be traced back to wolves, and then there are Pugs. You gotta love them all. Of course I have to mention Vampires who, many thousands of years ago, jumped up a little bit higher on the old evolutionary scale.

Then there are those creatures few have seen and nobody has any fossil or otherwise evidence such as Sasquatch and his buddy the Chupacabra, and of course Mermaids. Who wouldn’t like to find a Mermaid?.

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And last but not least, there are some creatures who never died but are just hiding, and waiting….

Which brings us to BURNING QUESTION #45, with it’s misleading title.

YES, we are going to Scotland to solve a MYSTERY. However, that mystery is not to find out what is under Hamish’s kilt.

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We’re not here to find out what is under Hamish’s kilt, though we’re mighty curious.

We’re talking about Nessie, otherwise know as the LOCH NESS MONSTER.

As we all know the Loch Ness Monster or Nessie is a creature said to inhabit Loch Ness in the Scottish Highlands. Nessie is often described as large in size with a long neck and one or more humps protruding from the water. My husband Teddy and I still make jokes about it due to the fact that once after too many glasses of wine I called her the Lost Neck Monster.” We’ve caller her Neckie ever since.

1933 photos were taken of the creature (since proved to be bunk) and since then even more photos have been taken, not to mention hundreds of documentaries, books, etc. . Evidence of Neckie, I mean Nessie is a mixed bag of fiction and a lot of stuff that just might be true.

Seriously folks, I’m a Vampire so I’m always open to this kind of stuff. I asked Tellias about it and he just shrugged and told me to go find a Selkie. Tellias never tells me anything until he is ready to tell me. On the other hand Selkies are as real as I am. But back to the Scotland…

I always like the idea of Loch Ness because it is a lake that looks like a lot of beautiful lakes in Northern California (where I live.) Loch Ness is also extremely DEEP, which makes it mysterious. Plus there are castles. Everyone likes castles. And everyone also like SEA MONSTERS.

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For centuries people have been seeing weird things in Loch Ness. Some have even taken photos, which then turned out to be fake. But you never know. I know you WANT to believe something huge and amazing is down there in that cold dark water.

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Could there really be something living in the depths of Loch Ness, in Scotland?

Burning Question #45: Is the Loch Ness Monster Really A Well Hidden Dinosaur?

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Want more information about big mysterious things in fresh water? Check out this list I “borrowed” from Wikipedia. Well-known lake monsters include:

loch ness

Loch Ness, Scotland. By the way, a Loch is a Lake.

Now that you’ve pondered another BURNING QUESTION and rocked your world, please share your comments, opinions, possum stories, tell us about that bad date, or about the time YOU saw a Bigfoot, Mothman, or a dinosaur. Hey, don’t laugh. I saw a dinosaur last time I was driving near the Utah/Colorado border. I even took a photo.

Dinosaurs

Yes, I saw this right in the middle of the day and took this photo. Believe it or not! I can’t make this shit up.

One more thing… I want to thank Mandy White for suggesting this question.

Thanks everyone for dropping by. See you next week for Burning Question #46.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

There is no excuse for rudeness (even to a Vampire or a Werewolf)

I first published this post in 2013 and thought it needed a second look. Feel free to forward it to the rude people, or those without filters, in your life. Fortunately I can’t think of anyone I know who fits that bill right now… now that my kids are in college, but you never know. 

When a child under the age of 6 or 7 asks a rude question we can brush it off as the innocence of youth. But, when an adult asks rude questions or says rude remarks it just makes them look stupid, insensitive and just plain mean. Not to mention it makes them seem like bad parents.

Their mouths open and rude things just spew out like so much sewage. They have no idea of how them might hurt someone, and how badly it makes them look. On some levels being rude is just another way of being a bully.

I’ve been having this discussion with friends on and off about rude things people ask or say so I’ve made some lists of “What Not to Say ANYTIME”. And don’t be shocked. These are real things we’ve heard people say.

Note: For example purposes all references to a child will be LuLu or Rand. And of course I know none of my regular readers would say rude things like the examples I give below. It is just a list (I like lists. Like to make them. Like to read them.)

Things never to say to people with children:

  • Why do you only have one child? Variations include: You need to have more sex. Only one child? It’s selfish to only have one child.
  • Why don’t you have more kids? Answer: None of your f__ing business.
  • Won’t little Rand get lonely if he doesn’t have any brothers or sisters? Why no, he has a lot of friends.
  • Only children are selfish children. Not true. Go away.
  • Why do you have so many children? Answer: Go away.
  • Which is your favorite? They’re children not ice cream flavors. Go away.
  • What is wrong with LuLu? Variations: Do you get money from the state for her? Shouldn’t she be in a facility for kids like her. Yes, people who say things like that SHOULD be shot or at least slapped silly but that is illegal so just tell them “I love my child and I don’t wish to discuss her with you.”
  • Isn’t that ________________ (sport, activity, camp, club, school) expensive? I could never afford THAT. Answer: Just walk away.
  • I’d never let MY child _______________ fill in the blank. Good for you. Now go away.

Things never to say to people who don’t have kids:

  • Why don’t you have kids?
  • Can’t you have children?
  • Why don’t you want kids”
  • Isn’t that selfish?
  • Who will take care of you when you get old?
  • Well I guess if I didn’t have kids I’d be taking vacations to Europe too.
  • All of the above are rude things to say.

Things never to say to your single friends, especially those over 40.

  • Why didn’t you ever get married? Answer: None of your f____ing business.
  • I have someone I want you to meet. He but he hates cats. This is to the friend with 3 cats. The friend who has always had cats. The friend who WILL always have cats.
  • Life isn’t complete without a mate.  Really? That is both rude and wrong on so many levels.
  • I wish you’d find someone. Answer: Well so do I, so why are you rubbing it in?
  • Are you gay? Honest to God I can’t tell you how many single people I know who have been asked this question. There is nothing wrong with being gay or single. There are gay single people. Gay married people. Gay dating people. Get over it.

Things Never to say to Cat Owners:

  • I hate cats. OK this is the story. The cat is sitting in the front yard watching bugs. Then the cat goes inside and eats, Then rubs up against my leg. What is there to hate? And why do you feel compelled to say you hate MY CAT? I’m not asking you to take it home with you. Go away. You can also exchange cat with dog, horse, rabbit, parrot, fish, husband – some people are just RUDE.

Things never to say to someone on a romantic date:

  • Do you mind if my sister/friend/mom/brother comes with us?
  • How much money do you make?
  • I don’t date many people.
  • I’m not good at dating.
  • You’d be perfect if you lost about 10 pounds. And you’re sleeping alone tonight Mr. Romance!
  • Too much about your ex. That includes ex wives, ex girlfriends, ex husbands, ex boyfriends, ex lovers of any kind. Don’t talk about how badly your kids are doing either. That is also a sure fire turn off.  And don’t use the excuse of being “honest”. That doesn’t fly.  It is RUDE to  do an emotional dump on someone who wanted to spend the evening with YOU and NOT everyone who has ever done you wrong. 

Things Never to Say to a WORKING MOM:

  • I stay home with my kids because they need me.
  • I’m raising my kids. I don’t want someone else to do it.
  • I get to volunteer at the school 3 days a week so I’ll know what my child is doing.
  • Before you know it they’ll be grown and you’ll have missed out on everything.
  • I’m taking a class on Tuesdays and Thursdays and just can’t get any housework done.
  • All of the above is just rude. Period.

Things Never to say to a Stay-At-Home Mom

  • Why don’t you have a job?
  • Don’t you wish you had your own money?
  • You don’t work so why don’t you have time to go to the gym?
  • You’ve wasted your college education.
  • All of the above is just rude. Period.

Things Never to say to a child that isn’t yours?

  • How much money does your dad make?
  • Who did your parents vote for?
  • What are your grades?
  • Do your parents spend a lot of money on ____________________?
  • It seems like there are a lot of people who try to find out financial information about people they know through the children.  And tell your kids not to answer any questions about money or other private family matters.

Things never to say to a Vampire:

  • Why aren’t you wearing black?
  • Show me your fangs?
  • Do you sleep in a coffin?
  • Aren’t you worried about eternal damnation?

Things to never say to a Werewolf?

  • Do you eat people?
  • Do you have fleas?
  • When you take a bath do you smell like a wet dog?
  • I’m allergic to dogs.
  • Do you have stretch marks?

That’s it. Just remember to gently, or not so gently, keep reminding those unfortunate friends and family members to THINK before they speak.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

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White Noise

I missed Short Story Sunday yesterday. I used to write a story each Sunday while I was at my daughter’s skating practice. Maybe it was the white noise of the organ music that allowed me to block out everything except my child and my writing.

Needless to say, I was not at skate practice yesterday since my daughter is in Southern California with her boyfriend this week. I rarely go to Sunday skate practices because she has her own car now. Next year she’ll be in Southern California full time as a college student.

This is part of the whole Empty Nest discussion. Our routine is so keyed into our children that when they grow up we have to find new white noise. Seriously folks, putting our children in sports is just an excuse to have quiet time to read or work on writing during their practice time, or travel to interesting places during their competitions. None of the parenting books will tell you that.

Sunday is now filled with other activities including that man I seldom speak of – my husband. He’s great. We do things together. We even dressed up for a party this weekend. Good times.

Today I’m taking about twenty minutes to finally get out that missed story. I’m not sure where this will lead us but here we go…

White Noise

The radio was on but Elise wasn’t really listening. It was just white noise. When it got to quiet she’d have to listen to her own thoughts and question her actions. If the radio was on she’d feel more connected and it made work more productive.

Today she wished she could have taken the day off to paint but she wasn’t too unhappy. The unsolved crime blog was waiting.

Sixteen years ago her husband had been murdered. Even though he was a police detective his killer was never found. She’d cashed in the insurance policy, sold the house, packed up her three small children, and moved to a coastal city where she fixed up her Aunt Blinkey’s ramshackle beach house. There she taught economics and political science at the high school. Eventually the true crime community contacted her, and she shared her own research and theories into her husband’s death. Soon her grief became the passion of others. She was glad to hand it off. She was glad to help others. Research had always come easy to her.

Today she wrote about murder, with coffee and the radio.

Sometimes she just wanted to be. Not alone, but not really with anyone. She’d smile as her sons talked with their uncles about sports, and yelled at the TV when the score or a call wasn’t to their liking. She wasn’t listening to anything they said. It was just background noise as she painted, or wrote letters of recommendation to former students.

So she wrote about murder while listening to the radio and the rain pouring down on her roof and yard. The storm was so loud couldn’t even hear the waves coming into the nearby beach.

Today’s murder happened three years ago when a couple of twelve year old boys rode out on their bicycles one summer day. They told their parents they were going to the park. Instead they went another two miles down to the river. There they found the body of a young woman face up on the rocks, her arms and legs spread like someone making a snow angel. Her clothing was torn and mostly missing. Her throat was tied with a rope.

As a mother her heart broke for the boys and their parents. A few days later they found out the young woman was a kindergarten teacher who’d walked a few blocks the night before to visit a friend. Nobody even knew she was missing when the boys found her. Her killer was never found.

Elise had gathered clues from the readers of her blog. Someone had seen a woman wearing the teacher’s hand knit red sweater. Someone else had seen her with a tall blonde man. Someone else said it was her high school boyfriend who had kept a bulletin board covered in her photos. Elise was searching her email when she heard a knock on the door.

Standing at her door was her friend Bryan.

“You should have just come in,” she said.

“It was locked,” he answered.

“Where’s your key?”

“Home,” he said, then kissed her lightly and came inside.

She’d known Bryan for ten years. They’d met when their children were going to school together. Their daughter’s had become best friends forever and even gone to college together. He been a good male role model and a friend to her sons. And eight years ago Elise started being more than friends to Bryan.

He was never a boyfriend. They just spent time in bed together, or on the couch, or in the shower. They never told anyone, but eventually everyone figured it out, including their children.

Over the years they’d both dated other people, then ended up back together, or just cheated on the people they were dating. They never considered it cheating, especially when the other relationships weren’t serious. Nothing every got serious for Elise. It did once for Bryan, and Elise accepted it. But she was glad when it wasn’t serious anymore.

Elise turned off the radio and led Bryan to her bedroom. They spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying each other’s company as only two middle aged old friends can. He still dazzled her with his smile, and the way he moved, and the way he laughed, and of course the way he touched her.

As they lay in bed listening to the rain, he fell asleep with his head on her shoulder, his arms around her. Elise closed her eyes and thought about how she loved her time with him. He never told her that he loved her, but she knew he was tied to her with a bond he couldn’t find words for. She always loved him but she’d never tell him. He never wanted that, or at least he’d told her that years ago. Eventually she just didn’t think about it.

Listening to his quiet breathing she stroked his hair and though about her feelings for Bryan.  White noise. White noise.

~ end

 

Have a good week everyone. I’ll have more thoughts later this week. And don’t forget to stop by on Saturday for the 45th Burning Question.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman