On April 17, I published the first nightmare monkey story on my blog. I thought of another nightmare monkey story when I saw this video with Tom, the new monkey that recently showed up.
Tom casually strolled into the cafe only to be greeted by Satvamrita who told Tom that he could not have the food he wanted. Tom rushed up the stairs passing Satvamrita in the process. Satvamrita casually let him pass, thinking that he was the boss of the place.
Tom looked down across the stairs at Satvamrita and saw the smug look in his eyes. Forgetting how old he was and knowing that he had one last fight in him, Tom jumped and growled at Satvamrita baring his sharp teeth. As he watched Satvamrita shake in abject fear, Tom felt some sense of satisfaction. Tom waltzed back into the cafe and took whatever food he wanted, showing all who the real boss of the place was.
The ivy was relentless. Keeping it from destroying everything in its path felt like a never-ending battle. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when I saw that it had invaded the shed. For years, I had left a window cracked to keep the contents inside the shed from being covered with mildew. Instead of mildew, I was now faced with a scene reminiscent of the 1988 movie, The Blob. I picked up my clippers and like a warrior began to cut. I was determined to win the battle and emerge the victor… in The Invasion of the Ivy.
Rochelle Wiseoff hosts a regular event called Friday Fictioneers. She posts a weekly photo and participants are asked to write a complete story in 100 words or less; a story that is inspired by viewing the photo. With my permission, my blogging friend Cheryl from Traces of the Soul sent Rochelle a photo of some toys I found buried in our Greenbelt restoration site. Rochelle used the photo for her June 2 prompt.
She sat on the floor in the corner of the darkened room. Her knees were curled against her chest and tears were streaming down her cheeks.
She had been in psychotherapy for some time and she had made significant changes in her life, but she felt as if she was living in-between two worlds and didn’t belong in either. She couldn’t go back to her old life because therapy had opened her eyes to reality; returning to a state of denial was not possible. Her prior coping skills didn’t work anymore, but her new skills weren’t solid. She felt awkward and clumsy as she tried out new ways of being in the world.
She was even more disturbed by the emptiness she still felt in her heart. Her therapists, group members and friends had given her so much love, yet she still felt empty. It was as if her heart was a bucket that had a hole in the bottom. Whatever came in, flowed out within hours. She wondered what was wrong with her.
As she sobbed in frustration, she had no way of knowing that only a week later she would sense that the hole had sealed over. It didn’t stay sealed, but since it had clearly happened, she would begin to have hope that the sense of emptiness would end.
As the days and weeks continued to pass by, the hole would become securely sealed and her heart would begin to fill. Never again would she experience that overwhelming sense of emptiness.
The change you seek may be just around the corner.
I woke up early in the morning after an almost sleepless night. Today is the day it is going to happen. Today Mrs. Pauley’s landlord and the police are going to come kick her out of her house because she can’t pay her rent. She had told me about it a few weeks ago so that I wouldn’t be surprised when it happened.
I’d cried a lot since then. Mrs. Pauley was my friend. She was really old now, but I had known her all of my twelve years of life. She and Mr. Pauley were like grandparents to me. I didn’t know my own grandparents, so they were the only grandparents I had. Continue reading ““What Else Can I Do?””→
“The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.” “Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.” “Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.”-William Shakespeare