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Telling Tales and Whispering Secrets 

A bit of fantasy alongside the current human condition

Clarity | Outdoors


As I step outside, the brisk air from last night's mid-twenties meets the high altitude sun of midday. "And that's why we are a ski town." I muse my eyes the direction of Snowbowl nestled in the mountains north of town.

 

Still awaiting our mountain town winter.

 

The street ascends as I make my way to the woods at the end knowing straight up through the dense forest is the observatory where stars seen astronomically meets my affinity for astrology. I always use my app when there so that I can synchronize the Hellenistic era born view of the stars with the charts described before me in today's sky. My neck back toward the atmosphere just as I am right now.

 

Smiling, as I do during those night time tours a top the mountain. In lieu of the park, I venture on the path of soil blanketed with the season's fallen pine needles. My shoes create muffled crunching noises in cadence with slow intentional steps. Pausing crest-side to admire the view, a soaring bird catches my eye. Wing's spread, the bird contrasts with blue skies, lovely. Following the bird, I search for a pattern. Some circling, but nothing surfacing. So I seek out its comrades. Nothing. A solo flight as far as I can ascertain.

 

It's time to connect with Gaia. I continue down the trail, well just off it a bit, seeking out softer areas where I can safely take off my shoes and commune with the planet. As I am not one to calm without movement, I will be walking about. But first standing for a moment: grounding. My face calm with a gentle smile. Eyes wide open, I absorb the environment in the moment. Breathing, discovering the balance. Read More 

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The Nine Trilogy | Grace

 

"No Grace, there is no such thing as teleportation, nor will there ever be and don't even get started about Mu. We are energy healers not mages. If you are to become adept, no pun intended," With a laugh her fast friend exclaims, "you have got to land!"

 

Grace slowly closed her eyes as her well-meaning friends left the coffee shop for their studios and healing centers sending backward smiles to the beautiful woman they left behind. Grace began to descend for there was no limit to her belief in possibility. She had to know.

 

In that space Emmajean gently swam in the depths of the non-linear world watching Grace connect and pause as if Emmajean was a dolphin she was watching play in an aquarium. Then Grace returned knowing she had made progress.

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Talent | Remuneration

 

"Say… you're really good at that." She tells her boss and friend.

 

"Whatever." Her boss responds laughing continuing the task of creating a dynamic window display.

 

"No. I mean it. You could really make some money doing it for people 'round town. You should do it!" She tells the indie record store owner.

 

"So you're telling me if I'm good at sex, I should be a call girl?" The store owner gets down from the ladder standing back to appreciate her work. Read More 

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Dark Waters | Still Cottage

 

The Ballard Locks left behind cool Guinness in hand, I bask in the achievement of having successfully skippered my way through the large Chittenden Locks. I had done my part. Smiling I turn to the Captain that navigates the boat as if it were a simple video game. With such ease and grace, the boat responds.

 

Making my way out of the salon, I take the ladder to the flying deck. From atop, the sea waters salinity creates patterns that move with a viscous quality. I watch for something to land so that I can be told it is not the case. My eyes move skyward in search of a winged creature.

 

"Surely there's a gull." I'm considering making a 360 inquiry. Clear blue skies for now.

 

The Captain's head emerges from the edge of the high deck. A large round plate rises and lands followed by two icy Scots Ales. He completes his ascent grabbing the nosh and libation as he stands tall.

 

I slide over so that he's at the helm. While I'm setting cloth napkins with blue anchors and the platter of pate, cheese, meats and baguette in front of us, he cracks open the ales. I pop a square of Muenster in my mouth smiling gratitude. We clink our beers and dig in. My feet up, we just be. West Seattle is ahead mostly deep blue undulating water with bits of flotsam from logging endeavors ahead.

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Golden Lasso | Locking Through

 

It's unnerving to witness the Captain navigate the small Lake Union harbor's berth. A larger boat, the slip snug. The day is filled with promise as we are heading to the Sound. This time, in the 28 foot Egg Harbor.

 

The small Chris-Craft was a nauseating experience. The more than enough sea spray not my idea of pleasure either. I am assured that I'll have no problem. As a preemptive, I noshed on baguette and cheese just before heading to the dock.

 

Successfully disengaged from the mooring area, we cruise toward Ballard locks. I consider a Guinness then think better of it.

 

The Captain indicates he needs my assistance going through the locks. I'm a bit unsettled by this news for I've been one of the many spectators watching floating vessels make their way through the trough. At that time, witnessing challenges improved the entertainment value. I am hoping to fly under the radar.

 

"I'm not so sure I'm your Skipper when it comes to navigating the lock." I'm expressing my reticence mentally working on an alternative plan at the same time. Panic begins to surface, I do want to see the old cottage on Vashon, but the price seems a bit high right now.

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Nuptials | Hair of the Dog

 

The wedding has a lot of moving parts. It begins at the house just outside of DC. An intimate affair, there few people at the ceremony. Standing in front of the fireplace, Persephone reconsiders her all black attire. Looking over to her brother who decided on black as well with his sharkskin suit, she concludes they match and lets it go.

 

It's a speedy ritual so the siblings head to the kitchen for a bit of bubbly.

 

"Come on! Reservations are at 8." The groom has a bottle in his hand encouraging the pair to head to the limo.

 

They toast, "Down the hatch to the smashing match!" Laugh, and empty their glasses heading for the transpo.

 

It's a bit of a drive so there's libation and nosh. The couple is giddy. Persephone thinks a bit too happy already as this is a marathon not a sprint. Her brother sees her eyes on the bride and groom nodding in accord. Arrival at the posh restaurant in DC.

 

Still pacing, the two decide to have a glass of Champagne with the intro. The servers continue to pour, both their glasses remain full no matter how hard they try to spy the bottoms of their flutes.

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Vacation in Coupe | Lets Go

 

The fresh salty air is like no other as urban scape hugs the sound. The market bustles teaming with vegetables and fish. Cozy fine equitably priced chef's micro restaurants nestle amongst the comings and goings of the days harvest and catch.

 

Conversations over coffee, "Does it really bruise the fish to toss it? Is the visual experience of Geoduck really worth the flavor?

 

They go for the steamed fresh clams, soft crusty sourdough bread and Champagne. And the Coupe adventure begins. Awaiting the turbo ferry to Victoria BC, a small group of fast friends are snacked with repast still working on libation. The mid-morning sun called for eggs and bake so the vacationing band of comrades persevered until they found a quiet restaurant not quite open but willing to serve their simple request.

 

The last half of the bottle was in silence some legs up on chairs, they witnessed the goings on outside the floor to ceiling window. Nodding to each other in agreement, they gather their jackets and day bags, out the door cruising to the queue for the ferry.

 

It was no time, they found themselves sitting in plush leather seats having ordered their bubbly and a bit of nosh: Ploughman's platter. The energy matches the boat's speed as the bubbles make for goofing off and playing around. Taking it down a notch, they push back their seats to nap for the last 30 minutes of the trip.

 

Feeling fresh. Disembarking the air is similar to Seattle, they chatter about Madame Tussaud's and The Butchart Gardens. Like sheep they find themselves in Customs, each focused on the day and still a bit tipsy. Answering questions, pushed through the shoot, everyone lands on the other side… except one.

 

"Where's Bebe?" her longtime boyfriend begins to panic. The others start to spin around like tops in one place scanning the flowing room for the elegant somber woman with her smart clothes and Oroton bag. The continuous stream of ferry rider's emerge from the turnstiles. Nothing, she is missing.

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Planes | Proportions

 

The sun rises with promise encouraging Persephone to rise. She makes her bed as she's leaving it smoothing the top blanket carefully placing her pillow just right. Still in her white nightgown, soft robe and black velvet slippers, she makes her way to the kitchen hoping for breakfast before she dresses for the day.

 

Sliding into the breakfast nook booth, the stoic little girl looks to her mother that's been up for hours. Examining the figure at the stove, shiny long blonde hair in contrast to her dark brown white spotted pants suit, Persephone shrinks a bit hoping she won't get called out on her slow moving morning.

 

She makes excuses in her mind preparing for the worst that never really happens. "I was reading." As her mother was writing since dawn, she's certain her desire to read will be acceptable on a Saturday morning.

 

Persephone is hungry, "So where's Dad?"

 

"He's working dear. There's an issue with one of the projects. It must be important for he asked me to bake my cinnamon rolls this morning. Softening the dynamic with sweets I presume."

 

Persephone immediately recognizes the faint smell of pastry. Thankful her mother perceives her as a part of the grownup world, she expresses gratitude with interest. "I hope it's okay, and he's home in time for his popcorn and family movie night." She's smiling with excitement for movie night is the best!

 

Demeter turns, "Indeed, I do too. So what can I get you? Don't tell me, steel cuts with cranberries, cinnamon and maple syrup. And I know, crème on the side."

 

"Yes please!" Persephone is two-fold happy. Her favorite breakfast and her late to the table concern not an issue.

 

Demeter brings the steaming bowl of oats to the table and sits down. "Sweetie, we don't have time to drive you to your Grands for your summer visit this year." Demeter is leaning forward her hand on her five year old precocious child's little paw.

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Soda Pop Boys | Case of the Missing China

The Soda Pop Boys 

Preston, Hal and Ronnie

Photospiration short story

 

It is one of those days where the lack of rain feels like punishment. The late afternoon hot and dry as the Tucson desert sun has been at it since early morning. The Soda Pop boys are in conference. Deep in their dark half-underground fort, they work the case. Pouring over evidence, three boys study the clues gathered this morning.

 

Preston's arms are waving as if the other two detectives refuse to accept the obvious. "I'm telling you, it was Mrs. Keith. She's been after Mom's china since she moved into the neighborhood last year. Remember Thanksgiving? Mrs. K tried to borrow the entire set!"

 

"She would never lift just the gravy boat. She'd take something worthwhile like the meat platter or somethin'." Hal's cool response lowers the temperature a bit.

 

Preston relaxes into his chair and nods as he's now listening.

 

Ronnie understands it's his turn in this democratic endeavor. "This morning I went around her place. She was doin' some trimmin' and didn't really wanna talk so I slid in a couple of ripe questions. You know, answers she wouldn't provide if she was really payin' attention."

 

"Yeah, yeah we get it." Preston is no longer relaxed circling his finger, like roll film, encouraging Ronnie to get on with it.

 

"She's been outta town. Her mother's got another case of the gout so she had to go and take care of her dad's meals and stuff for the past week. She just got back last night and that's why she was out doin' yardwork in this gawd awful summer heat." Ronnie spills his beans as quickly as he can for he can't stand it when he's interrupted.

 

Hal leans forward, looking to both of his partners in turn. Preston knows better than to interrupt Hal as he has the gift of using a great number of descriptive words when just a couple will do. Once he knows he has their attention he begins. "Noel knows what's goin' on here. She and I back when we lived in Monticello…"

 

"Your sister's a bit loony if you ask me, she's always got her head in a book." Ronnie interrupts.

 

"Hey!" Hal's calm demeanor changes in a flash.

 

Ronnie knows he's gone too far. "Ah… I didn't really mean it. It just that… you know, she's different."

 

Hal grins, "Yep, I know." Nodding in solidarity to his Sis.

 

"Are you two done?" Preston's arms folded having lost his patience when Hal sequestered their attention. "I still say…"

 

"Let it go!" both Hal and Ronnie chime together.

 

"Okay! Geez, you didn't have to shout." Preston holds up his hands giving up and sits back refolding his arms.

 

Hal repeats the slow deliberate eye contact, "As I was saying." looking at the other two. "I'm tellin' ya if we're going to get outta bein' grounded for the rest of the summer, we've got to enlist Noel. This gravy boat did not disappear on its own and we know we didn't break it."

 

"Nope." Preston is shaking his head in disagreement.

 

Hal looks to Ronnie and pleads.

 

"Na uh." Ronnie's shaking his head as well. "No girls."

 

Hal stops just long enough to devise another plan. "Okay, so let's get on with it. We need more details. Preston, you ask Mom when and where she last saw it. Ronnie, check all over the house to see if you can find it. I'll go see Grandpa about some dowsing."

 

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Perspective | Point of View

 

Gray suit lab coat style, seamed stockings and three inch black heels are set off by a crisp white French cuffed shirt, and maroon and gold tie, Sun Devils dancing about from neck to waist. She's heading to her grad student gig for one of the resorts on The Strip. Writing for the HR department mostly. She senses her tutoring job at UNLV Writing Center gained her access. She loves it. The engaging environment, the people that work in hospitality, the bustling convention goers and the cruising visitors to Las Vegas with their frozen drinks in hand. Taking pause, she feels perhaps she should wear the black, silver and red UNLV tie.

 

Shaking her head, "Nope, I'm going for a bit of color today." she concludes, ASU it is as her phone rings.

 

"This is Persephone. Yes. Oh really? Okay…." Plans changed, no time to change. As a grad student, she's signed up to substitute teach for the school system as well.

 

Changing directions modifying mindset. "And here we go."

 

Telephoning the flexible position, she tells them she'll be in for the afternoon shift. Her projects can wait a few hours. At the small sterile looking elementary school, huge juxtaposition to the Las Vegas Strip, she spies a spot.  Smiling, unlike the high schools there tends to be parking. Walking through the office's doors she continues to the counter heels clacking on the overly polished asphalt tile. She's immediately addressed as the assistant quickly stands.

 

"I'm here to assist with Miss Budesheski's am class." she receives a slow up and down assessment from behind the desk.

 

His glasses low on his nose peering over the top, "Riiiiight." he continues to look at Persephone's attire.

 

"Can you give me the room number?"

 

"Oh, yeah sure. Sign here." He's now on task handing her the pen.

 

"Thanks." Signing and taking the sticker badge next to her name placing it at her waist right side.

 

She's hears the room before she finds it. Opening the door, Persephone sees a fellow grad student that has obviously been roped into the situation as well for he's no more dressed for the occasion than she is. The teacher cruises her way giving her repeated up and down glance.

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