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Telling Tales and Whispering Secrets 

A bit of speculative fiction alongside the current human condition



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

Waxing Analog | The Sense of Books



When your hands fold around covers, the pages fanning before you, the book speaks… without


words. Your senses liven as it is a thing in itself. You see time passed impressed upon the pages and


cover, or shiny new objects. You hear old crisp pages that crackle while new pages whir. You feel the


weight, and maybe a creased spine. You inhale the iconic scent of ink and paper. In defense of the


object, the physical book holds secrets that enrich the world within.




As we enter the old bookshop, the air silently buzzes with time. Whether books smell of fresh ink or


worn paper, one's olfactory has the longest memory. Candles are made to recreate this particular


alluring scent. Combing the shelves, an index finger grazes worn covers, creased spines proving


someone has been there before you. Thumbing through aged pages, the book chatters while the


reader's eye seeks words gathering groups for meaning. In this warm wood filled shop, books can


endure, rest and await their new home, for there is no hurry.



A tome selected for further discovery. Turning pages, you spy clues as to the book's provenance.


Visual reflections are embedded its experience. The bleeding brown ring on the cover is permanent


proudly showing a reader's use as coaster.



Markings and commentary respond to the work scribbling and scribing along the edges of text.


More in-depth thoughts at the end of each chapter include dates. Blowing life into the pages, they


separate illuminating another's reflections, as experience has been meticulously noted. The inside


front cover telling the object was a gift, the date showing that the book was new at the time. The


name of the receiver, iconic of the era. Houston, we have a name. We now know who first imprinted


their residue on the well-worn read.



Drawings and musings demonstrate play. Readers have spent time with the book and may well


have traveled with it. Or perhaps the hardback was toted to the doctor's waiting room, with best


intentions, too distracted to dive into words. Thermometers and the Rx symbol peppers the page


along with interconnected geometric pencil marks meandering at a chapter's beginning.


Interruption documented. A moment in time recorded.



Miscellaneous objects nested in between pages create a dialogue with the thing itself as well as


subsequent readers. A short grocery shopping list has found home expressing regionality as a


couple of the words are particular to place, maters being one. A newspaper obituary clipping tells of


a moment in time honoring a soul that will remain in the reader's memories and heart. Once sighted


by another, that soul comes alive in the experience, as witnessed, as acknowledged. The last name is


the same as the inside cover. A flower expresses feeling-presence. Its life immortalized as the


delicate petals were so carefully arranged, keeping the obituary company. Read More 

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Birthdays | Time's Arbitrary


Today is my birthday.




In time (no pun intended), I began to consider...


What did one do or be that was so special?

--that their orbit around the sun should be celebrated.



And why one's birth-day?

We celebrate adult teeth and puberty as well.


Perhaps growth is something we value as sentient beings.



I also consider that we enjoy being celebrated and

value being accepted as part of the celebration others.


As beings we crave a witness to our lives, within this global society.

--for what does one single lifetime mean in the scheme of the whole?



Perhaps we celebrate possibilities before us.



Perhaps we celebrate memories.

--What occurred the previous year... previous birthdays…?


Birthdays are infused feelings.




Memory fogged by:


The alley is dark. She's frustrated.


He's taken her to The City to celebrate hers. As he bumbles around in the dark, he seeks a sign that they are indeed going in the right direction.


"Let's just go back to the car." Hands on her slim hips.


He smiles up through his blue eyes that glimmer, even in darkness. She acquiesces taking his hand.


Emerging between two tall buildings, light shines. From the bustling, he looks to her with humor in his eyes. She feels bad that she didn't trust. He squeezes her hand.


"Where do you want to go?" he says. "I should have made a reservation."


She doesn't feel bad any longer.


Ripping her hand from his, "Let's just go. This is San Francisco!"


Her hands returned to hips, she's back-lit beautifully by the diner windows and sign. He takes her hand. She pulls away as they pass through the door. Before the host, she's almost red with embarrassment.


"We have a reservation." He says.


She looks to him eyes wide. Now in wonder, she follows him to a long table where 15 of her closest friends hold up their glasses, charged for celebration.


Fog City Diner.



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Star Profiles | Jane Austen


Swirling about, her feet sink into the meadow's plush grass. Jane smiles looking up at her ink-stained fingers. As her fingers begin to move, muscle memory plays music.


She stops, anticipating the journey. She has a long walk ahead of her as her friend's house is miles away. As her smile returns, her feet begin to take her home.


"The library." She considers her sanctuary in a bustling home.



Amongst siblings and boarders, she's inspired to write. With acceptance and home-schooled learned mind, she anticipates her nightly dream of novelist.


Jane spends much time contemplating the way of beings. She innately understands the subtext of the human condition and creates her novel-minded path accordingly.



Jane's deeper view of her surroundings often nudges her subconscious to remember just how arduous a climb her past life was. That awareness is not as important to this life. Her laser focused insight on the manner in which a woman can navigate life did her no favors. As in this lifetime, navigating current culture as a witness to expansion is key to her success.


Finely dressed for the ball, Jane he spins about in the front of a long mirror that leans against the wall near the ballroom. Her friend laughs and nods in approval. They both float toward the music and dancers.


"May I have this dance?" The gentleman's hand extends towards Jane, his head tipped to the side.


Jane is curious about the kind eyes before her. "You may," her hand meets his.


The evening lightens Jane's energy as she connects, in earnest, with another. She believes he 'gets her.'


"You've seen this gentleman often, Jane. You flirt with him." Her sister sits on the bed watching Jane pour over the watercolors she painted for Jane's most book.


Jane stops to consider smiling, looking up her quill between her fingers. "I enjoy his company and he's intelligent, a lawyer, as well as fine humored."


Her sister changes the subject, "So will the little paintings work for you?"


"Yes." Jane nods while looking at the small renderings. "They are lovely."


"Good as I won't be revisiting the subject." Her sister laughs. "Jane," solemn, "Is it his status?"


Jane takes a moment to reply, "No." shaking her head, "It isn't." She smiles as she takes a breath and allows.


Jane's deeper view of her surroundings, often nudges her subconscious to remember just how arduous a climb her past life was, an awareness not important to this lifetime.


Unfortunately, her economic status does not meet her gentleman's family's approval. Reluctantly, Jane is cast aside.


Her laser focused insight on the manner in which a woman can direct her own life does her no favors. Navigating current culture as a witness to expansion is key to her success. Jane looks through understanding considering her current trajectory.



Life leads Jane's family to Bath. After much consideration, they land in a simple house of their station. She absorbs the gentry's way of being enamored by the glamor.


Spending time in friend's and family's estates, boredom sets in. Jane writes little plays that are acted out by friends. Jane becomes accustom to what life looks like in these grand homes. She does her part.


"That was such an entertainment!" her friend still charged by the acting out of Jane's musings.


"We didn't even have enough chairs for everyone!" another clasping her hands together then hugging Jane.


In the flow of this way of life, Jane finds herself in the company of a fine young man that desires her hand. That evening, she agrees. The next morning, her drive to write overshadows her decision and she recants.


Jane's life leads to shedding Bath as sickness and poverty blankets her family.



Her success carved as her own, Jane had stopped writing novels while living in Bath. Her habits circular, she resigns to where she returns for what it is, no wealth or stature.


Introspectively, Jane moves to the country. Her body and mind immediately remember. Her quill now often filled with ink. Renewed in way of being, she accepts this higher realm: a return integrated and open to opportunity.


In the spirit, Jane spends time in London. Her novels out in the world, she immerses herself into life in the city. Riding around London in her brother's barouche, she senses she is now an accomplished novelist. The country walks set aside.


Jane's writing expresses with an integrated mind. The elegance of place, the sense of achievement that surrounds. As the wheel turns, Jane's brother takes ill, Jane is left to negotiate with the publisher and loses.


Jane returns again to the country. This time, to a home for single women of age. Her last stop for this lifetime.



Jane's pot of gold was ever present: maintaining a flow, in lieu of pushing against the overarching energy; a poised and wise approach to what exists before her. Fully aware of the subtext of culture and daily life, the key was playing within paradigms and right timing.


Evolved, her next life goes deeper within the realms of being, the unseen. The integrated mind, her compass.




A fiction piece inspired by:

Jane's natal astrology chart

Documentary of Jane Austen: Behind Closed Doors On YouTube 

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In the Middle | Balance


Whether we are leaning into fall or spring, we are in the middle as we honor the cycles. 



A side-story with Chere's character, Persephone.


You'll soon see more of her in the short story:

The Inner Journey, Alchemy and Magicks 





Midyear, Persephone looks forward to Summer Solstice for winter is her favorite time of year. Gliding toward fall into the quiet months brings energy and calm to balance.




As the sidewalk reflects intense high-altitude sun, the 79-degree breeze cools, balance. A checker board of shade and sun staccato as the Ponderosa pines' scent expresses in the shadows.


Tis time for transition.


A short growing season the seeds planted in March are ready for their summer homes. Each seed pot groans roots seeking more space. Large art pieces, clay vessels pepper the tiny yard having been quiet for months. The cycle is about to begin anew, when ceramic meets fresh soil meets flora.


Persephone finds herself visiting her window. Peering through wooden shutters, regularly observing seedlings and sun patterns. The pine needles drip. She contemplates a simple process for grooming the matter.


Nothing. Read More 

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Transformation Knocks | On the Journey

Growth can occur in baby steps (a pivot of sorts) culminating change. 


Meet Meredith. Persephone's childhood friend.

Opportunity presents its self. Does she lean into the call? Is it right timing?


Middle Grade Fantasy Short Story

The first of the Meredith Series


On a walk for afternoon tea, which Meredith has taken with her mother many times, she is offered illumination. A way of being presents itself. In choice, Meredith decides whether she will continue down the path of motherly expectation or step out into open realms of authenticity.

. . .  [archived] 


Visit Chere's exclusive page for a closer look at the author's work. Share in her journey on Patreon: Chere is writing fiction on Patreon

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All's Quiet | Winks


With the stillness we are currently within, do you find you are sleeping well remembering dreams? --Ears ringing as we recalibrate?


Rip Van Winkle is welcome in All's Quiet | Winks

Adult Fantasy Short Story


A side story with Chere's character, Persephone.
You'll soon see more of her in the short story:

Inner Journey, Alchemy and Magicks.


A sleepless night rises Persephone and her dog, Lilith. A walk in the park proves to have the answer. Magicks ensue. Persephone discovers her calm, her winks... [archived] 



To adventure with the author, join Chere on Patreon

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College Daze | The Smell of Books

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


A side story with Chere's character, Persephone.
You'll soon see more of her in the short story:

Inner Journey, Alchemy and Magicks.



Books & Magick meet Shopgirl

Magicks are in the air as Persephone stroll down the shop filled street to her day job. While cleaning the shelves a master appears. Wisdom is shared... [archived] 


We are all into our reads at this time… inspired.



* 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.



To Join Chere in the Journey: Fantasy fiction writer on Patreon

Dahl's interview: Roald Dahl's memorable interview

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In this short story, I consider what life will be like post isolation. 

Best everyone.




How we 'do and be' in our everyday life can change.

In dreams, Persephone considers what one's new reality can look like when swimming in the realms of possibility during global transformation... [archived]


A side story with Chere's character, Persephone.
You'll soon see more of her in the short story:

Inner Journey, Alchemy and Magicks.



Visit Chere's exclusive page for a closer look at the author's work. Share in her journey on Patreon.


*photography by JR Korpa on Unsplash

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Musings | Triplicate

Tis a time when one can feel a bit wonky... energetically speaking.

A side story with Chere's character, Persephone.
You'll soon see more of her in the short story:

Inner Journey, Alchemy and Magicks.


Persephone experiences blinding overwhelm. Anger rises within as she cannot find the source. Perce takes on every distraction without thought. Then something is actually quite funny... [archived]



To find out more about Persephone and her adventurous magicks visit Chere's exclusive page for a closer look at the author's work. Share in her journey on Patreon

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The Raven and the Mouse

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


Just how do we know if someone likes us? How to differences play a dynamic in relationships and authentic connection. Perhaps it's possible to discover the threads... [archived]


Children's - Middle Grade Fantasy Short Story

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