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Telling Tales and Whispering Secrets 

A bit of fantasy alongside the current human condition

 

 

A daily blog of Short Stories - Essay - Writer's Musings

*stories in draft 

College Daze | The Smell of Books


Hands occupied by my searing hot paper coffee cup, they take turns. As I walk along the sidewalk, my eyes follow the shop signs guiding me to the bookstore. I pause to see what's new in the window today. Maupassant, vintage and the new Grafton, used. I wagered the Grafton would go first and made mental note to keep tabs on Maupassant. Would the brown leather tome remain long enough to be discounted? Fingers crossed, I open the door. My still too hot coffee spills burning my hand.

 

While I'm inspecting my cuff for the inevitable brown stain, the classic brass doorbell summons the owner. Bob is in today. I smile as he grooves with whatever I choose to do, always happy with the projects I take on. I love a dusted old bookstore, just sayin'. Perhaps I will go with that. In one of my favorite sections of course.

 

I turn to see a customer is awaiting check out. Finding a safe place for what's left of my coffee, I put my satchel under the counter and assist. It's all done by pencil, add in your head (including the tax,) and then, punch the total into the register. I carefully place a bookmark inside her stack's top book. A duplicate copy of the receipt along with. Old school. No plastic bags. Canvas bag or carry your reads out. Post my expression of gratitude we exchange smiles.

 

As the reader chimes the door's bell, I grab the feather duster and make a beeline for the back of the store before I am hijacked by the register again. Bob changes the vinyl and I'm slowed by his selection. It's all Bob's music; I can dig it. The duster my baton, I conduct Vivaldi's Spring slowing my pace adding a bit of a skip as cadence. With my enthusiasm, a feather breaks loose and begins to fall. I'm intrigued by just how slow it descends. I pause noticing the plumage appears to have a destination in mind.

 

Sure enough, the landing pad is a lower bookshelf absolutely covered in dust. I look up and spy a vent that is targeting this particular bookshelf. I can only imagine how old those ducts are. Kneeling down to perform a dust accumulation assessment, that is wipe my finger and inspect the residue, my hand hovers just at the shelf space.

 

Someone is whispering.

 

I peer through the stack and spy no one. So I rise and peek around the corner, nothing.

 

I return for the test though I know this is the area I need to address. Leaning over, once again, the hissing of whispers continue. Coming closer, I realize I am being summoned.

 

"You!" a gentleman calls out. "Yes, you. Who else?"

 

I'm frozen at this point awaiting what is next.

 

"You always say it's the journey not the destination; however, you are so willy-nilly with your creative time. Develop a plan young lady."

 

Surprising myself, I pull on the book that appears to be the source. I'm smelling a fresh cup of coffee and cigarettes.


Carefully dusting the well-worn book I consider. "That's a sure sign of a worthy read."

 

The layer of dust reveals Roald Dahl's collection of short stories. The compilation that focuses on life's trials and tribulations: Man from the South and other stories. However, I am told another story. The author speaks to me clearly sharing his creative ritual: space, time, mindset.

 

"This enduring author's writing practice." Carefully dusting the book's cover, I respond internally to the low sounds emanating words that are a bit clearer now that I've cleaned the book.

 

The coffee and cigarettes fill my olfactories further gaining my attention.

 

I sense this information is for my highest good as the delivery alone reflects value. While considering my own writing practice, muscle memory kicks in. I barely notice my pace as I cleanse the space. Surfacing, after what seems like a moment, transforms into my entire short shift. I grab the vacuum to complete the task. Stepping back to assess my work, the area is gleaming. The smell has disappeared. Non-reflective of my efforts; I understand there's a bit of magick going on.

 

I sigh deeply. Yawning a couple of times to reset my brain chemistry and head for the front counter. Next to my satchel is the bin where the old wooden handled duster resides. My worn leather bag over my shoulder, I throw away the now cold cup of coffee and head for the door.

 

Before my hand finds the knob, Bob calls out. "Illuminated today were we?"

 

With one of those slow deep genuine smiles, I turn.

 

Bob is nowhere to be seen so I return louder than the acceptable bookstore whisper. "Yes. Telling tales and whispering secrets."

 

"I know you are." Bob's muffled voice answers.

 

The brass doorbell chimes as I open the door. Vivaldi's Spring dancing in my head as I integrate my writing process sensing I've accomplished so much today in that little bookstore.

 

As I stroll down the sidewalk, my eyes follow the eclectic store signs along the way.

 

"Now to address the issue of those freaking hot paper cups of coffee." I say to myself.


Is life a journey, a destination or somewhere in between?

 

 

 

* I have so many fond memories of the bookstore. So many nooks and crannies, short staircases, and dark rooms filled with shelved books. I so loved working for Bob and Faye's in Scottsdale while earning my fine art degree at ASU. One of the best college jobs ever.

 

* I am inspired by an interview where Roald Dahl shares his process and dedication to his craft. He truly embodies his work.

 

Links:

For more fiction: Chere is creating fiction on Patreon

Dahl's interview: Roald Dahl's memorable interview

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IN DREAMS | FUTURE UNFOLDS

 

Walking along the deserted sidewalk, Persephone takes in a deep breath of open air. The trees at the end of the street promise commune with Gaia. Lilith's pace begins to surge.

 

"Heel." Persephone quietly signals her Giant Schnauzer.

 

Lilith immediately slows alongside Perce's already speedy pace panting a wide smile.

 

"I know. Me too." Persephone says grinning at her fast friend.

 

Passing sleeping buildings coming to the end of the street, the great park opens up. Its beauty stark and inviting. Lilith has her particular spots to stop indicating to her fellow canines she has been by.

 

The light signals.

 

"Walk on." Perce whispers.

 

Lilith is not used to being cooped up in the apartment for such long periods. Persephone follows Lilith deep into the park lazily looking up as the empty park allows her to daydream. Her curly coated friend is more than happy to play tour guide.

 

"Home." Signaling, it is Persephone that calls an end to the adventure.

 

Lilith continuing her role strides along Perce's side much slower than the walk toward the earthy realm in the center of the city.

 

 

 

 

Detaching the leash, Persephone falls on the couch and takes a sip of her now cold coffee. Pausing, she decides it is good enough for now. Lilith's loud lapping noises make Perce wish she'd left a glass of water on the table.

 

The walk was longer than Persephone planned. The sun is drawing to a close. Still warming, Perce removes her coat and scarf closing her eyes for a moment knowing Lilith remains where she is, patiently waiting.

 

With a long sigh, Persephone peels off her coat and scarf leaving them draped across the settee on the way to kitchen. She retrieves Lilith's dinner from the fridge, a hearty meat dish.

 

"Your favorite." Placing the bowl in the stand, she ruffles Lilith's head.

 

Lilith awaits the command that it is ready.

 

"It's yours." Persephone points to the warm bowl of sustenance.

 

The smell of Lilith's dish causes Perce's stomach grumble. She decides on tea and a bath instead. Remaining at home makes her tired as Perce's office resides here as well. The walks in the park, coffee, lunch, visits, events, meetings….

 

She misses it.

 

 

 

 

Emerging from the steaming bath, Persephone laughs at Lilith as she has already curled up in her large bed that is almost the size of Perce's polished wooden antique bed.

 

"So you did have enough after all. I'm glad Sweets." Persephone sparingly uses her pet name for the larger than life pooch.

 

Finding bed cozy, Persephone decides to remember her dreams. She wants to know just what is a possible outcome of this pressed upon isolation. Perce regularly recalls her dreams with ease. They often inspire her writing.

 

 

Intentional.

 

Covering her eyes with a soft black eye mask she says, "Tonight I know when I am dreaming. I have excellent dream recall."

 

Not long after, Persephone's eyes flutter as she swirls within her space of enlightenment.

  

 

From abstract Persephone hears first.

 

The birds are singing and flitting about the tree just outside her building as if she is just across from the park. Perce takes her coffee on the overstuffed chair next to the window in her bedroom.

 

Mesmerized by the saturated colors.

 

Clarity of sound and sight.

 

Nature in line with the human species.

 

 

The recently steaming cup now empty, Persephone dawns a tee and loose cotton pants. Her feet bare, she rolls mat out onto the gleaming parqueted floor. The window calls her once again. She takes in a half glass of water.

 

The asana flow with an amalgamation of Qi Gong and Yoga. The practice honed by listening to what resonates with her body, her mind and how she views soul. After balancing and tuning, Perce settles to meditate.

 

She knows herself.

 

Tongue to the roof of her mouth she hums encouraging parasympathetic response. Her body calm, her mind communes with soul. Finding the spaces between each breath, she breathes life into her exercise. She doesn't ask, she allows. Trust.

 

The practice leaves her energized. Lilith paddles over to the mat and drops her leash. Persephone rubs Lilith's back and scratches her ears.

 

"Fantastic timing Lilith. As always." Persephone says as she stands heading to her walk-in.

Dark sunglasses and hat shade her from the gleaming sun. Lilith's alongside, trajectory the park.

 

The hour-long walk tops her self-care encouraging appetite. After feeding the ravenous hound, she grabs an apple and some almonds. An isolated part of her living room, her office is light and airy facing the windows.

 

 

Perce's been writing for several hours while Lilith snoozes in a sunny spot on the soft rug. A call from the street. Buzzing in, she walks over and opens the door. She then heads to the kitchen and puts the kettle on.

 

Chester strides into the apartment his head replaced by the most beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers.

 

"Wow. Those are so beautiful and smell lovely!" Perce says examining the variety taking her time to gain the scent of each of the flowers.

 

Chester responds to Persephone looking around the bundle in front of him. "You can have one spectacular bouquet as center piece or a pair of two still quite large arrangements for the table."

 

"Indeed." Perce says letting out a squeal of excitement. "Let's place them in this for now."

 

Persephone retrieves a large ice bucket from the kitchen's bar. The kettle's whistle screams.

"Would you like some tea?" Perce shouts over the sound.

 

Placing the flowers in the bucket, Chester is nodding his head, "I would. Black tea with one of those cinnamon teabags you always have would be nice."

 

"White?" Persephone asks.

 

"Sure. If it's cream." Chester replies.

 

"It is."

 

Sitting by the window, they watch the finches chasing each other about enlisting a bee in their game. The viewers chat about the dinner party tonight. Persephone doesn't adore cooking but she absolutely loves having her friends over for libation and repast. No reason necessary.

 

 

Warm hugs, and Persephone and Lilith leave Chester at the sidewalk going in opposite directions. A stop by the park for Lilith's call of nature, Perce picks up an afternoon demi-capu while continuing on to the apothecary.

 

The old wooden doors open just in time for her and Lilith to stroll through. The beehive tiled black and white floor draw them to the counter where Sophie is holding up a dark brown bottle.

 

"It's done! We've not bottled the rest as of yet, but I just knew you'd be in."

 

Persephone takes the bottle smelling the concoction while Sophie greets Lilith looking to Perce for permission to treat the already anticipating pup.

 

"Sure. She'd love one." Perce says giving permission as Lilith sits ready for her handmade savory treat.

 

Perce askes. "This serum smells divine. So it's the same as before?" 

 

"Well no." Sophie responds talking over Lilith's energetic crunching.

 

"What's different?"

 

Sophie is serious now for she knows a proper skin regimen is very important to Persephone's soft glowing skin.

 

"It's better!" Sophie says smiling confidently. "This will give you more moisture and you need that."

 

"I do!" Perce laughs smiling, "And I need bath soap as well as a half-pound of Lilith's treats."

 

"Which soap bar would you like this time?" Sophie asks.

 

Persephone responds, "Surprise me. There are so many beautiful treatments to choose from. Intuit what you think best."

 

"You got it!"

 

Package in hand, Perce turns waving in gratitude one more time before she and Lilith depart. The sun greets the duo as they head for the market, the city streets live with honking cars, buzzing scooters and bicycles. Persephone heels Lilith who is eagerly anticipating more little tasty nuggets.

 

 

The market is open air this time of year. Everything local and handmade, Persephone looks for what has just come in, ripe and ready to eat, from the fields and gardens.

 

Perce sences a hand on her shoulder. Another party guest greets her with a hug and gives Lilith a vigorous ear rub.

 

"Oleta! Lovely." Persephone says in such gratitude that in this huge city, she often runs into her friends.

 

"Hey!" Oleta says looking around at the stands and lively shopkeepers, "You shopping for tonight?"

 

"I am" Perce nods.

 

"Well I am glad I ran into you. I'm bringing dessert. And yes, it is your favorite." Oleta says in an overly serious tone so that Persephone will not protest.

 

"Pots de crème! I won't discourage you." Perce's grin is ear-to-ear, "I'm really thankful I didn't eat lunch now. I picked up some Montenegro last week. Should pair quite nicely, you think?"

 

"Beautiful! Synchronicity. Gotta go! See you tonight," Oleta blows a kiss before turning into the crowd.

 

Perce says looking over at Lilith while giving her a good scratch. "Don't you just love that when that happens?" 

 

"Walk on." Persephone says as she focuses on the ingredients for this evening's meal.

 

 

A couple of items were not available. One not ripe enough to pick and another no longer in season. Even though she was not totally successful, Perce is satisfied with the groceries blooming from her two large canvas bags.

 

Lilith's head is high as she trots alongside Persephone. She is quite pleased with the trip as it is a resounding success. Perce makes note to half her dinner portion while smiling at her cheeky canine.

 

"You take the idea of samples to a whole new level Sweets." Persephone says laughing aloud.

 

With pauses to chat with friends and neighbors on the way home, Persephone lays the bags on the kitchen counter with a thud. Placing the creme in the refrigerator, she believes the rest of the groceries can wait.

 

The kettle on, she places a biscuit on a small plate. Lilith checks in to see if she's going to get a bit of nosh.

 

"I get it Lilith, but after this afternoon's smorgasbord, perhaps we wait until din-din." Persephone responds.

 

Understanding the cue din-din, Lilith heads to the window for a nap. Circling a couple times, her large form finds the perfect spot. She settles in with her nose under one paw.

 

A bit of earl grey and her nutritive biscuit on the side table, Persephone is curled up as well. With her feet underneath her and a book in her lap, she reads while crunching and sipping. Perce intermittently pauses to reflect on the words while looking out the window at the bigger than life city before her.

 

 

After a long luxurious bath, Persephone's long hair flows about her shoulders. Her dress light yet easy-stylish, floats as she makes her way to the kitchen. Lilith has relocated; but is still in snooze mode.

 

The neighbor, Samson, is gracious enough to come early. Italian, he's the perfect chef for the pasta and salad menu. All fresh ingredients from today's market, he is having a blast. The Prosecco Persephone opens may be a part of his levity as well as the dance he has going.

 

Persephone sips on her glass of bubbles while cleaning up behind the cook's magic and chopping as instructed. She sets the table and prepares the fresh bread slicing, oiling and rubbing a cracked piece of fresh garlic on each piece. Nesting them in baskets, the long table is ready for guests.

 

Call from below. Seems as if everyone has arrived at the same time.

 

 

Opening the door, she awaits her friends. Seeing a few with butts to trash, she realizes they were out there smoking before coming up.

 

The flood of energy is bright filled with levity.

 

After sparkling glasses empty, the gathering sits eyes wide as the large dishes make their way from the kitchen. Perce provides Lilith din-din. Her furry friend awaits as everyone finds their seat raising their glasses to Samson.

 

As the plates begin to pass, Persephone signals to Lilith who too begins her meal. Surprisingly there is no need for tunes tonight. The conversation free form punctuated by the popping of corks. The red wine making its own music.

 

With love and gratitude to Oleta and then to Perce, the crowd jackets and scarves their way to the door.

 

Persephone finds Samson in the kitchen. "I've got this. You are a gem."

 

"I know you do. I'll keep you company."

 

The pair completes the task in silence smiling down at the evening's accoutrements as they begin to gleam finding their homes in the drawers and cabinets.

 

Samson makes his way out as Perce goes to the window. Looking down to her friends below, some with their after dinner smoke streaming from their fingers, her eyes smile. They sense Persephone. Looking up, the jocular crew wave smiles.

 

Persephone's hand on her companion's back she asks, "Ready for bed Lilith?"

 

 

Wide awake now, Persephone writes down her dream. For this night, strong patterns emerge.

 

 

See you next week.

Cheers and best,
Chere


Telling Tales | Whispering Secrets 

 

 

Ps. photography by JR Korpa on Unsplash

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Musings | Triplicate

 

We're on a Road to Nowhere | Pacing

 

Persephone finds herself overwhelmed by the energetic atmosphere that surrounds her.

 

Projects.

 

There are beginnings of an endeavor sure to enhance current endeavors. There are current endeavors in process. There are endeavors, she'd rather hand off (if it was possible.) There's her absolute favorite endeavor, writing.

 

Still overwhelmed.

 

 

Checking out the time on her iPhone, she considers that perhaps she should take a break. Perhaps that will improve her mood, calm the nervous system per se.

 

"Break from what?" Perce laughs to herself for she hasn't really gotten started. "My Yoga practice and some breaky. That was it."

 

She's shaking her head considering a bike ride to calm the circuits. Looking over at her city bike, she realizes, she'll need to check tire pressure. Persephone finds the task of pumping tires too taxing right now and lets the idea of outdoor activity float away.

 

 

Still feeling the buzz that creates an environment where a cogent thought is just out of reach, Perce decides to bring her swirling headspace in line with her heart and gut. Her awareness meets in the middle: the heart-space.

 

The space is metallic. It feels rough and dull with blackened areas. Persephone attempts to lighten up the chasms with energy rolling her shoulders back. Loving heart energy begins to warm the center of her chest. Perce observes gray smoke streaming from the front and back turning into white sparks just before disappearing.

 

"Sending back to where it originated, in its original form." Her eyes are closed, she smiles. "Integrating the scarab-ed wisdom of what's mine, the surplus to the ether. So it is."

 

Persephone claps loudly three times. The center of her palms hot, she hovers them over her heart space and asks her most pressing question that is actually a feeling.

 

"Enlighten me Perce-Wise." She whispers her chin lowered.

 

The answer is almost immediate as Persephone's wise-self responds with an iridescent voice, "You have plenty of time."

 

Time's abundant.

Right time.

 

 

Feeling the Impetus | Shout it on the Mountain Tops

 

Organized, especially since this recent super full moon in Virgo, Persephone is clear on how to feel into her purpose as well as what steps to take to get there. The working parts are in tune as if the 'jewels' are in alignment with her stars.

 

Going over recent illuminations, her eyes are skyward as she smiles. Perce looks down at her calendar enjoying the dance of color, form and sequence as her plan is mostly polished for she's been working on it since the beginning of February during Merc Retro's pre-shadow phase.

 

She considers the rhythms of the tasks noticing her priority has neatly carved out time 'specially as 50%.

 

The sprockets tuned, turn their cogs aligned perpetuating the process.

 

 

Her phone rings.

*not on the calendar

 

Persephone doesn't hesitate answering the call. "Greetings!"

 

She's loves chatting with this individual. The conversation begins quickly and flows as if it has no reason to end. As subjects go deeper, she begins to talk about the details, timelines, feelings regarding her intentions.

 

Before she knows it, her day's attention units (for the brain has a finite few each day) and the motivation behind her tasks has been talked-out in depth.

 

Thought mutual goodwill exchanged.

 

 

Persephone gets off the phone and finds her will to eye her calendar is gone.

 

(Her mind considers intentions complete, the motivation switching station in the brain dimmed for the day.)

 

Sitting back in her chair, Perce considers taking a break.

*though she hasn't began her day in earnest

 

 

The mind chatters | Content

 

Persephone notices the curiosity surrounding her. In the small space regular's eyes follow her movements as they try to place her. She is not from here and doesn't quote, 'wear the uniform.'

 

Perce's here because she chooses to be.

 

 

A passerby, "You work for the City?"

 

"No." Perce responds smiles and continues on her path.

 

 

Going about her business, she stops to banter, with a couple of witty ladies, about cheese. Words like 'Big Cheese,' 'Head Cheese' and 'Babybel' float about the conversation on waves of ebb and flow. The pause is too long for them to dive into types of cheese and their attributes.

 

Cheeky. Fun.

 

Moving along.

 

 

Passing by the original questioner, the passerby asks again. "I've been around here for years." Intent on getting answers. "Who are you? And do you work?"

 

Persephone busts out laughing. "Did you hear what you just said?" repeating the questions to the cringing passerby.

 

Passerby's making excuses. "That's no quite what I meant."

 

"I would think not," Perce responds smiling.

 

 

Persephone continues about her business noting the lack of alignment while grooving her authentic sovereign vibe at the same time.

 

Neutrality from within.

On the Path.

With Discernment.

 

 

 

So it is, yeah?

 

 

Be seeing you soon.

Cheers and best,
Chere


Telling Tales | Whispering Secrets 

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The Raven and the Mouse

 

 

Ever aware of the fast moving furry creature with the long tale, Raven assesses best trajectory toward her prized pecan tree. Taking flight her wing span dark shines in the cool sun. She's hungry and peeved that little creature follows her always in pursuit of dropped sustenance.

 

Banking, her left wing tips upward as she looks down spying the annoying rodent with ease. Raven rights herself and flaps gaining speed. Her eyes forward. Target somewhere farther away from the trailing mouse below.

 

|

 

Mouse looks up and smiles waving at the Raven while admiring her beauty. Mouse is so thankful for the nibbles Raven drops.

 

"It's like lunching together." Mouse twitches her whiskers her eyes trained upward grinning at her fast friend.

 

This trek is more challenging for Mouse as the raven has gain elevation and appears to be in a bit of a hurry. Mouse is not willing to disappoint so she speeds along taking risks jumping across the larger rocks as the terrain is rough in comparison to the grasslands where the tasty pecans grow.

 

She doesn't give up.

 

|

 

"Are-you-kidding-me?!" Raven is starving and quite surprised by the mouse's endurance.

 

She banks again heading back to the pecan trees hoping that the mouse will be left in the dust long enough for her to have her fill.

 

|

 

Mouse is shouting skyward having course corrected on a dime. "I agree bird! The pecan grove is much better place to have a bit of a nosh,"

 

|

 

Raven's eyes narrow with disgust, "Is she squeaking at me? That little brown furry creature cannot reach me!"  

 

On target Raven zeros in are her favorite tree. Unbeknownst to her, it is just next door to the mouse's cozy burrow.

 

Landing gracefully on the tree's limb, Raven grasps a pecan with her strong and sure beak and heads for the sky. Honing in on the rock beside the waving pecan tree, she drops her snack.

 

Raven calls a shrilling sound thrilled and at the same time in a bit of a hurry. She lands on the rock with a couple additional flaps of her wings as she settles before the cracked pecan.

 

|

 

Mouse begins to run out of steam as the terrain is up hill. The boulders with wide crevices require she take some serious leaps scrambling up the opposite sides after she lands.

 

Mouse's weak jump doesn't have sufficient reach, "Eeeeeeeeeeeek!" She falls between two huge stones.

 

|

 

Raven is maintaining an eye-out for her nemesis. She's entertained by the gusto in which the mouse has been attempting to return to the field. Raven sees the fur-ball in the air now and then as it makes a pathetic attempt to return in time to harass Raven.

 

Head up, Raven pauses with a huge piece of nut in her mouth as she stilled by the mouse's painful shriek.

 

"Still harassing me, are you?" Raven nibbles at her pecan.

 

|

 

Mouse is wedged between the boulders. She cannot move. She cannot breath.

 

As a last ditch effort, she cries out with a loud, "Squuueeak….." Her call for help quickly dropping to a whisper.

 

Mouse's head leans against the rock. She closes her eyes.

 

|

 

Raven's unamused by the game being played on her, "What was that?"

 

She returns to her nut, then quickly drops it looking for the bouncing mouse leaping across the rocky field.

 

Nothing.

 

Raven turns leaving the pecan searching for movement. She sighs as she sees flying fur.

 

"No..." Raven hops toward the boulders, "that was a chipmunk."

 

Before she really considers her response, Raven's in the air. Circling quickly several times, she sees nothing.

 

Raven calls deep, loudly.

 

Nothing.

 

She lands where she considers she last saw the mouse. Hopping about peaking over the rocky ledges, she spies nothing.

 

Raven begins to rattle a call as she flits about flying from boulder to boulder.

 

|

 

Mouse's eyes slowly open as she realizes her fast friend has come to her rescue.

 

With little air left in her petite lungs, she mews quietly, "eeeeeeek. eeeeeek. eee…"

 

Then nothing.

 

|

 

Raven is keen to hear from the mouse. She hears the soft plea.

 

As the last of the mouse's breath expresses a whisper of a sound, Raven is peering over the rock side at the little creature wedged far below.

 

Raven notices the creature's shallow breath. The body moving ever so slightly. So as not to startle, Raven calls a soft warbling tone. Cocking her head side to side, she assesses the situation.

 

Then flies off.

 

|

 

Mouse opens her eyes just as the Raven's tail disappears. Mouse is hopeful at first watching the ledge for movement.

 

Nothing.

 

Finally, Mouse so very tired, closed her eyes for what she considers the last time.

 

|

 

High above Raven soars. A beautiful thick piece of cotton string from her stash of treasures in her beak.

 

Landing at the ledge of the deep crevice, she drops the string carefully while stepping on the other end.

 

Raven calls to the dead-like creature below. "Warble, warble, coo."

 

Nothing.

 

Raven holds onto the string with her beak, a steady grip, as she rolls her eyes and decides to get closer to the mouse.

 

Raven thinks to herself. "What have I gotten myself into?"

 

|

 

As tiny pebbles and sand begin to fall, Mouse stirs. Opening her eyes, she notices a wiggling worm dangling dragging across her nose.

 

Adrenaline kicks in. Mouse's peepers widen and she clamps down on the line in fear. Looking up, Mouse spies the backside of the raven.

 

Her eyes narrow as she attempts to focus in on just what is in her locked jaws.

 

|

 

"Mrmrmm." Mouse mumbles looking up at Raven's rear having ascertained the other end of the worm is in Raven's beak.

 

Seeing flashes of Raven's eyes, Mouse notices that the huge black bird is nodding. Mouse's curious return has Raven energetically bouncing her head up and down.

 

Mouse nods in return steeling her jaws her limbs now numb. "Ohhhhh I get it."

 

Raven takes strides as she leaps her way to the top of the crevice. At the top, she looks down to the mouse and flaps her wings a couple of times. The string still firmly clamped in her beak.

 

Mouse's eyes bulge as she realizes what's about to happen. She shakes her head, No!

 

Raven slowly nods an emphatic yes and flaps her wings.

 

Mouse closes her eyes.

 

Raven takes off slowly until the line is taught. Once she senses Mouse is in-the-ready, she ascends slowly thankful there is weight on the opposite end of her string. Mouse emerges from the deep crevice, limbs limp.

 

Raven takes Mouse up up up.

 

Mouse slowly opens her eyes looking up at Raven soaring above her.

 

"Thank you for the gift of flight." Mouse says to herself.

 

Mouse's eyes are wide. "Now take me down, please!"

 

Raven softly lowers Mouse next to her favorite pecan tree. Mouse hops around as if she's being stung as the sensation is returning to her limbs.

 

Raven piles her coveted string next to the dancing mouse and gestures pushing her treasure toward Mouse. Mouse pauses sniffing at the string, then crawls into its center while looking up to Raven.

 

"Thank you Friend." Mouse squeaks, "Thank you for looking after me."

 

Raven calls in return. Wings spread, she flies past the tree's limb capturing a pecan continuing skyward. Mouse, knowing her friend's routine so well, takes a moment to carry her new prize to her burrow. While dropping the pecan, Raven notices Mouse's home for the first time.

 

Landing on the stone by the tree, Raven pecks unmercifully at the broken pecan shell flicking pieces toward patiently waiting Mouse.

 

 

 

Sharing repast.

 

 

 




Ah yes, we carry much dialogue within when we focus without, yeah? 


Be seeing you soon.

Cheers and best,
Chere


Telling Tales | Whispering Secrets 

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Endures | Analog Tolstoy



Unconsciously turning the two gold class rings on her right hand same finger, Persephone finds herself thinking of Tolstoy. More specifically Anna Karenina, as the rings are an homage that remind her of strong elegant character writing. His enduring female lead is feminine, intelligent, schooled and independent. 

Many years ago, when Anna Karenina was at end, Perce responded to the work by walking to her dressing table, opening her golden vintage jewelry box and retrieving another of her class rings. 

 

 

Sliding the blue gemmed ring over her red gemmed ring, she already wore each day, Perce remembers the character, the tale, the writing, the lessons.


Perce's brows furrow as her mouth turns downward, "In response to love, she acts upon a permanent solution to a temporary problem…" 


Anna Karenina's final words were epic and memorable to Perce as she can still hear the train's shrieking brakes.


Forever in mind.

|

Lounging in her office, Persephone's eyes roam her large bookcase honing in on the section of TBR classics. Her eyes widen and then, focus on Tolstoy's last tome as a train passes by clicking rhythmically along the tracks not too far from her abode.

"Hmm… this read is post his personal epiphany. Could be interesting." Persephone considers diving in as Tolstoy is a quick read for her. 

 

His writing style flows gently painting elaborate colorful pictures while engaging with action and ever-relevant dialogue. 

She recalls his impetus to write after his pen had been stored away for over 20 years. It was for a cause. He knew he still had the talent; his readers same.

Perce laughs speaking out loud in tune with the faint noise coming from the fading locomotive and boxcars. "Funny that you draw from something that occurred back when you were writing as platform for your current state of mind and transformed ideas." 

 

Ah yes, the writer's mind. 

|


Persephone cradles the vintage analog book in both hands. The creases and shelf wear narrating their own stories, that of other experiences from foretime. Conceivably several hands have held this 54-year-old paperback book. 

Perce observes how loose the spine is, "Maybe they folded the book as they read." 

She draws the book closer to her nose. The read conveys a hint of the rich smell of an old book. This is a scent that can trigger many an avid reader to explore further the back shelves of a bookstore. In this case, following ones nose can result in treasure.

Supporting the book, she draws the energy toward her. Persephone seeks not that of the story or Tolstoy, but that of the object's particular past. 

The feel of the book begins to resonate in her hands. The vibration consistent and calm.

"Only one other owner. Well, you evidently liked to read while eating Granny Smiths. Why the apple stickers plastered inside the front cover?" She queries the book.

No answer.

Smiling, she goes and places the soft book at her bedside.

|

Perce prefers analogue reads. 

Her view is that eyes traveling through the material aspects of recorded symbols that culminate in meaning are more emotive to the brain. 

The experience is a bit of a dance as there are other senses in play as well.

As she combs over her book collection, Perce doesn't mind the heavy hardbacks for she appreciates how they rest homed within her bookshelf. 

There's a particular action that is turning pages. Persephone's eyes find their way to the bottom of the page as she turns to the next as if she is reading music. 

And of course, the smell. The paper pressed with ink wafts up into her olfactories as the pages turn. She pauses considering how one would describe the scent of a book. Cigars without the smoke component perhaps.

Smiling, Perce's made her choice in earnest. It's time to read Resurrection.



Are you an analog or digital reader? Do the classics capture your attention? 


Be seeing you soon.

Cheers and best,
Chere


Telling Tales | Whispering Secrets 

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The Dance | When Life Serves you Lemons

 

The base of Persephone's neck holds tension feeling like steel lies within. She moves her neck back and forth hearing the crackling as her ears touch shoulders in turn. She finds herself attempting to alleviate the symptom, not the source.


She just doesn't feel good.

 

"It's as if I am not thriving, My quality of life… I'm suffering." A lump in her throat surfaces with the truth.

 

In present time, Perce has acknowledged the dynamic; she problem solves. Again. Her mind courses through the files of study on Alchemy. She considers her practice looking over at the knotted string smiling and shaking her head. She's been working on that skill for so very long as her acumen ebbs and flows.

 

Persephone talking to herself pointing to the jute line nestled in a small antique glass jar her grandmother gave her. "You're akin to a golf swing. I consider that I may integrate the task as mastery… and then, I've lost it as if I've never experienced any success."

 

She's elevated by the magicks that surround the journey.

 

Balance doesn't really exist.

 

|

 

As mystic, she's drawing from a feeling that aligns with her cognition as she labels the emotion from the brain that has sent out the chemistry for bodily response.  Moving about while yawning, she attempts to shake a bit of the feeling coursing through her being.

 

In that moment, Perce's struggles with belief. An alchemist knows the power of imagining and proclaiming as truth including all the feels that place it in future reality.

 

"Why do I forget this dynamic so easily? I can boldly write it on a red Post-It and not see what's right before me. I wear an uncomfortable ring as symbol and find myself leaving it by my computer having unconsciously removed the constrictive band. Hmmm…."

 

The human condition deserves compassion.

 

|

 

Wow. The sense of rested. Persephone's calm and clear as her sleep was deep and kind to her. She folds the sheet and bed cover making her bed. Perce then arranges the comforter. The bed made, she folds a triangle sliding out of her cocoon allowing her feet to land in their open toed slippers. Lastly, three pillows fluffed. She nods a smile of gratitude.

 

Paddling to the kitchen, Perce presses the already prepared coffee for its first brew of the day. The aromas of rich dark Italian roast float to her open nose and closed eyes. The familiarity causes her to stretch ironing out the tension that comes along with the journey of sleep.

 

Sipping on her morning concoction holding a bold red mug, she warms her hands. Perce smiles. She feels better than she has for a long time.

 

"It's time to grow… And now I integrate." Persephone says as her lips form a long awaited smile.

 

All in right timing.

 


|

 


The day shows promise as she looks to her maroon binded calendar holding overwhelm at bay. Knowing that she will not accomplish it all, Perce takes action.

 

So far, so good.

 

Around 2pm, the brain chemistry does its inevitable dance. Lowering dopamine to levels that erase any form of motivation, she responds by taking a break rewarding her mind, body and soul. As of late, it's been a bit of a movie or read along with nuts and dark chocolate. Tolstoy's last tome has her attention right now.

 

Coffee beckons so she makes the afternoon cuppa still treating Perce includes sweet cream. Back to the tasks at hand, Persephone's relieved her long dark pause may be coming to a close.

 

 


 

Have you ever had a spell of no movement? You know, where you cannot quite access your groove? Do you tend to trust at those times or do they tend to be a bit of a train wreck?

 

For me, it can go either way...

 

Cheers and best,

Chere

 

 

 

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When the Foot Reaches the Mouth

 

 

Perce's elbows are plastered to her side, riding center of the back seat though is doesn't have anything to do with her being the middle child. To her left, her dreamy good looking guitarist in the band. Her BF to her right, her bestie A.

 

"Shotgun," Junior, the drummer, always calls it first.

 

At the helm of the old Pontiac Tempest Chris, lead singer, steers with his knee.

 

 

Persephone's feeling the giggles as something arbitrary comes to her ever charged mind.

 

A elbows her, "What?" smiling. "Just tell us."

 

Perce goes for it without truly letting the idea sink in.

 

The surface of the view floating about she asks, "What is the worst name you could give child? Like ever?"

 

The seats squeak as all but the driver turns to Perce with a faces reading, "Where is this going?"

 

Not bothering to read the energy around her, Perce reveals her thought in a blast, "Eunis!! E-u-n-i-s. Isn't that just the worst?"

 

 

Chris's eyes bulge from the rearview his head is subtly shaking back and forth. A's elbow hits the ribs with a sharp painful blow. Persephone looks to Zachary in confusion. Her boyfriend uses his finger and traces it across his neck. Persephone withers as she looks around.

 

Confused by what she'd call over-reacting, she senses a slow deliberate movement from the front seat.

 

Junior's body turns before his head, his drumsticks fisted in his left hand. His piercing eyes' finally meet Persephone. His lips a straight line.

 

He rests his right elbow on the seat and points his sticks at Perce. Drumming them up and down at her receding chin, he shakes his head. Perce's eyes show fear. Her Bestie locks elbows with her showing solidarity.

 

Junior flashes the drumsticks about an inch from Persephone's nose as Zachary leans into toward his perplexed girlfriend.

 

 

Junior quietly states, "That's my sister's name." and then turns around.

 

Chris, A and Zach state in unison, "She didn't know."

 

Persephone leans in to neutralize the situation. Chris' stealth head shake in the rearview has her slowly sitting back taking a moment to consider before responding.

 

The front leather seats begin to squeak as Junior's shoulders shake up and down.

 

Perce smacks him, "Geez! You had me going. I mean, of course, no one would name their kid, Eunis."

 

"Shut it. It IS her name." Junior states while facing forward letting it go.

 

The remaining three look to Persephone as if she's just won something.

 

 

Realizing, she's not coming back from failing to filter her ever racing mind, Perce smiles.

 

She's human. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers swirling about in her head.

 

 

Does your mind race a bit these days?

Just sayin'

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She's a real Gem | Solitary Alchemist

 

 

Going within, she makes her way slow and steady down into the deep dark cavern that is akin to black Kyanite. Persephone senses the cords, aliens, entities, beings are holding a convention in her inner world.

 

She's been neglecting her energy spending more time in the mind, less in the heart-space.

 

 

 

A fog surrounds.

 

The clouds surreptitious. 

 

When swimming in the soup, she's unaware of the dynamic.

 

 

 

The lack of balance causes small tears and holes about her field. Her own well cared for energy seeps out into the ether tagging along with passing beings. Others, sensing there is a port of call with no docking fees, stream through the open spaces.

 

 

The inky stone cave slams her into self.

 

Her feet paddle across the sharp feathered shards of making up the stone floor. From heel to toe, she's drawn within with each step. as her soul descends into corporeal space, Perce's glad to be home.

 

Her energetic state clear but not whole, Perce makes ascends from her cleansing cave as light as a feather.

 

Her feet hovering just above ground, she looks up toward the cavern's opening high above her. The light welcomes.

 

 

 

With Blue Kyanite, she searches through the center of her being balancing the cores while calling her energy to return. She calls in, pauses and then asks... and then calls again aware. Her familiar energy streams inward. All energy sent is received in the exact same condition it was in when directed outward.

 

She owns, responsible for her whole self.

 

 

 

Persephone's power center lights up as each chakra space illuminates spinning both below and above. The colors calm as a flood of equanimity charges through her inner world.

 

Tuning in she's turning on.

 

Centered. Waiting. Patient.

 

 

 

 

Keeping it simple, she places her magickal stones, Jet and Aragonite, within her body space.

 

The Jet is softly grounding reminding Persephone that she has an ethereal tribe supporting her energy management system. The Aragonite repairs her auric field allowing Persephone to open her discerning heart-space.

 

The holes and tears gone, the energetic layers of skin smooth.

 

 

 

Now able to breathe deeply, she's breaking free to roam and be inspired.

 

 

Efforts no longer misdirected.

 

Breaking the chains lifting higher.

 

 

 

She's fully aware of her tribe surfacing.

 

All in right timing.

 

In tune with solipsism and self care, for now.

 

 

 

 

Always mesmerized by the media surrounding the Tucson gem show -inspires.

 

 

Cheers and best,

Chere

 

Telling Tales | Whispering Secrets

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Course Correcting | New Horizons

 


Perce's within peace
Amongst pines she walks clears mind
Course corrects, begins

 

 

 

 

Be seeing you next Tuesday.

 

Cheers and best,

Chere

Telling Tales | Whispering Secrets

 

 

 

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Take Flight | Feels

 

 

Persephone notices the mundane items about her abode. What she ordinarily breezes around, she's clearly aware. Typical objects seem to be calling for her discernment.

 

She dives into the huge white lacquer bookshelf and before she's totally in awareness, Perce has tivvied up a huge space. Books aligned, 'specially items artfully arranged. Many pieces have been set aside for repurposing by another. Research sits quietly along the two bottom shelves their binders accessible with ease.

 

Perce cruises through her already minimalist modern space nixing everything that hasn't been given time nor energy in the past six months or so. She doesn't express a one day thought as the she breezes through making great effort to effectively organize as she progresses.

 

Perce now senses the new space as hers. She senses possibilities have been uncovered.

Smartening up the place.

 

 

About her day, she's Sunday relaxing: writing, reading, doing a bit; mostly, just being.

 

In a flash of conception, a feeling begins to rise. She can see it as well as feel it. She smiles. It's not a place or a time, it is surety that she will be energetically mobile, about very soon.

 

Her energy expands as Perce sits quietly with the what if. She doesn't need to know any details right now. Persephone's not planning a thing. She's to carefully maintain and pluck emerging energetic threads exploring frequencies and vibrations awaiting moments of alignment.

 

Already soaring.

 

As Perce sits with the sense that some sort of liberation has already taken place, a story materializes. In repose, she watches it play out. It's a bit scary, well she's told these style stories she writes are quite terrifying. As she's lived in a funeral home, the dead don't frighten her so much.

 

"Fire of conception." She declares out loud her fingers are going for her phone.

 

Taking action, she quickly organizes the characters, plot and setting into a synopsis. Persephone sits with the developing thriller as it continues to unfold. Going about her days, she dictates here and there until it's in a place where the next step will be to write it.

 

Freedom subjective.

 

 

 

Feeling the impetus to break free? 

 

 

Be seeing you tomorrow.

 

Cheers and best,

Chere

 

Telling Tales | Whispering Secrets

Day 80 of 365 OrbitChere Hughes

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