A very rough draft of the opening chapter to Dancing with Orange Blossoms, the prequel to Honey Ko. I’m not sure I could write an entire novel this way, or if readers would enjoy it. Maybe I could bookend it this way but write the rest in the traditional manner.Thoughts? Is the italicized portion disconcerting? Is narration by a dead person too much. Finally, is … Continue reading Dancing with Orange Blossoms
You left me in darkness when you went away. Even now, light dims when I think of you. I’m left with the nearly eternal absence of light because my thoughts are of you between the dawn and dusk of day. I am most alive when I dream of you for dreams are of what we were and what we should have been. The sun rises and shares … Continue reading One
I’m feeling my way through this “dabbling” in experimental writing. The last time he visited Barcelona, he was alone. I was dead. He returned to our beloved city knowing he would find pain but hoped the numbness would lift as he remembered me in the neighborhoods of my youth. Instead, he found the city also in mourning. The warm glow of Gaudi’s lanterns had … Continue reading Dancing With Orange Blossoms, Alternating POV / Reality
Your fragrance often wafts into my head guided by the metaphysical pinings of two souls and the bond between spirits not tethered to temporal moorings. Mortal boundaries span six feet of earthly separation but the heavenly plane exists within our senses. Comforting, that thought, and breathing your scent brings thoughts of your heaven wafting through my mind. For heaven is where you took me taking … Continue reading Of Love and Fragrance
I wish there were more moments to recall, the ones that show us naked and afraid. Instead, I recall our time together as projections of idealized portraits, retouched and photo-shopped by minds unable to bear the sharp edges and blunt-force trauma that lovers stumble through along the boulder-strewn road of romance. I don’t want to recall only the good moments but the ungood moments too, but maybe it’s better that … Continue reading Of Love and Memories
I wondered for a moment if she were kneeling, perhaps stocking the shelves, she barely peeked over the bar, but her Spanish green eyes were bright when she smiled and she told me she didn’t live far; she reached to my shoulders in her bare feet, not much higher in heels, and from my towering perch I never mentioned the few stray, white hairs she couldn’t … Continue reading My Spanish Love
Playfully, we spoke the words, “until death do us part,” She laughed, and her smile tugged at my heart, Will you love me in sickness and in health, she asked, Yes, my love, will you love me in poverty and in wealth? Of course, she said, her head tilted to one side, I’ll love you, you know, beyond the end of time; She turned her … Continue reading Susanna XI
Aida was the one all along, Susanna. Yes, Tomás. She has given me the half of my heart I buried with you. Yes, Tomás. I knew love would come to you again. I grieved so long for you, Susanna. Yes, Tomás. Too long. Aida makes me feel like you and I are together again. I know, Tomás. I can’t bring you back, Susanna, so I … Continue reading Susanna X
They bury their dead in vaults. Long rows of casket-sized holes stacked six bodies high. Mourners shuffle along behind the men struggling beneath the weight, the dead weight, inside the casket. Mostly, they do. Her casket was featherlight, the body inside so nearly weightless it seemed heartless to call it dead weight. The men carrying her body stood ramrod straight, as men are wont to do … Continue reading The Wedding Band
Is she the one, Susanna? I do not know, Tomás You must know, Susanna. Why, Tomás? She makes me think of you. She is not me. I want you back, Susanna. I’m dead, Tomás. You died too soon. Yes. Why? Why? Tell me. It was my time to die. It isn’t fair. Life is not always fair. Sasi makes me feel the way you did. … Continue reading Susanna IX
Sam and Susanna Cam Ranh Bay, Vietnam They say you don’t hear the bullet that kills you. How could anyone know that? Because, they also say, bullets move faster than the speed of sound. By the time you hear the sound of the bullet in your back, you’re dead. What if you’re only wounded; you’d hear that bullet, wouldn’t you? Well, you’re not dead, are … Continue reading Invocation
“I think I fell in love with you this morning, dear lady.” “You think you did? You are not sure? Perhaps we should try again. Shall we meet for an apple in the morning?” “I had already planned to meet you for an apple tomorrow. And the next day, and the next, and the next, and every day until….” “Every day until what?” “Every day … Continue reading Susanna Avila
Susanna plucked a shrimp from the paper cone in my hand and held it over my head like a seal trainer. She laughed as I tipped my head back and opened my mouth, playfully wagging my tongue as I struggled not to laugh. She brought the shrimp to my mouth and I captured her long, graceful fingers between my lips and…hesitated. She gazed deep into … Continue reading Susanna Avila
Her love caressed with the softness of a mother’s lips. Passion gripped me for this beautiful Catalan woman whose green eyes pierced and tugged at my soul with the gravity of a thousand suns. My heart wrenched when we parted and exploded when we came together. Life had just begun. My mind emptied when her arms enfolded me, enveloped by her breath, her fragrance, her warmth, … Continue reading Susanna Avila
Writers Envy 