Dancing in the Dark

She danced in the middle of the dance floor flailing her arms and legs as if she was trying to dislodge a multitude of bugs from her body. The disco ball whirled around creating a blinding light as it bounced off of her sequined shirt, I worried that she would hurt someone with her flailing arms. Then as suddenly as she had started she stopped and glanced up at the disco ball as the music and other dancers swirled around her. That is when I noticed her eyes. They were both a cloudy white color and I wondered if she could see. As she made her way off the dance floor she brushed my arm as she passed and leaned in to whisper in my ear, “Everything is better in the dark.”

The Guide

She had found the small book in the very back corner of her grandmother's closet when she was fourteen. As she read the book from cover to cover she was both shocked and titillated by it. Her Grandmother was the kind of women who always wore a suit and hat when she went to church or out to dinner. She was very proper and very well spoken and very intelligent. College educated at a time when few women were, she was the epitome of class and culture. The girl had always been a little intimated by her picture perfect grandmother, so as she clutched the book to her chest she smiled a little smile of appreciation and greater knowledge. This book made her Grandmother more real to her, more human. From that day forward the girl saw her grandmother in a different light. She saw her not just as the loving, cultured Grandmother she was now, but also as the young women she had been. A women full of secret passions and needs. Through out the years the girl would pull out the small book and remember the grand mother she had loved so much, but it was not until years later when the girl herself was a grandmother that she discovered the slit in the back binding of the book and pulled out a letter from the publisher of the book:

Dear Mrs. Donaldson,

Thank you so much for your submission of " A Young Women's Guide to Passionate Lovemaking". We think it will be a huge success and look forward to any future manuscripts you may have. We at True Romance believe that all things are possible. A check is enclosed for you fees.

Yours,
Sylvia Saturn
Senior Editor, True Romance Publications

Late at Night

As I lie awake late at night, listening for the beating of wings, I try to close my eyes and over and over I say to myself, " I will not go this night." But I always go. I can not resist his lure. I want to say no, but I crave the danger and the excitement, so I climb down the trellis by my window and into the night we race. I know that when I am older I will regret these nights. At this exact moment I do not care. All I care about is him and how the darkness and the sweet smell of him make me feel. My mother and father have no idea what I do at night. They think I am snug in my bed dreaming those adolescent dreams all girls should be dreaming. They would be disappointed, not angry, but disappointed in me and perhaps that is why even for a just a fleeting moment, I consider not going each night and then I hear his sweet voice and I am done for, I can not resit him, oh my dearest Bram.......

As I read the words my dear sister had written the night she disappeared I knew that something bad had befallen her and my dream that she had slipped away in the night to run away with her lover is dead for now I know his name and I know that he still resides here in our little town and that she is most likely dead like my dream. He was always an unusal lad and despite his fame and success I have never liked him and that lurid book he wrote... Well I always suspected it was not completley fiction. My dear sister Lucy if only I had known I could have stopped you.

His Curve Ball

He always told me that he would be famous one day. I am not sure I really believed him. But he was right. He is famous. His memoir has been the number one best seller on the New York Times list for over two years now. He can be seen on all the talk shows, in all the tabloids and at all the best parties. They have begun to film the story of his life. When I left him all those years ago I never expected to become the villain of his story. I never thought my name would become a synonym for evil. I heard a couple of young women on the train the other day refer to one of their acquaintances as an " Alice Winters". It was not a compliment. I knew when I left him that I had hurt him. I never expected the venom that spilled from his pen. When I heard of his success I was happy for him, then I read the memoir. I remember our story differently. If I had not lived this story with him, I too would hate Alice Winters. The character he draws is terrible. I try to see it from his point of veiw, but I can not. I may be the villain of his story, but I am the heroine of mine.

I Quit

" I Quit, I quit, I quit!" these words repeated through her head as she walked to work. Enough was enough, she was tired of all the crap and this time she was really going to do it. No putting off, she would find another job. This job was not her life and she was going to quit. Really, today was the day. As she walked on she thought of all the horrible things that had happened to her over the last few years, the bad treatment by her bosses, the laughs, the jeers, she was done, no more. As she entered the fairgrounds she saw her boss and she marched over to him and bravely said,
" I quit!"

He laughed and said " Oh come on Mary you know that you are not going to quit."

" Yes, I am." she said.

"Fine, fine so you quit, lets see what your sister has to say about that. So Elisa are you quiting too?"

Mary turned to her twin sister who just looked back at her with a sad look in her eye and said, " No Mr. Smith I am not quitting, Mary and I have no place else to go."

And with that, Mary's attempt to break free was over. Elisa tried to console her as they headed toward the Midway and their booth in the Freak Show.

The Future of our Planet

She stood on the deck of the ship looking out upon the vast emptiness, no stars, no moons, no planet existed. She remembered when her planet had been vibrant, lush and green. Now there was nothing. When the scientist had first begun speaking about the effects of pollution and over population no one had believed them. Everyone had laughed and by the time they stopped laughing and began to believe it was too late. In the last twenty years of the planet they had built ships to evacuate. It had not been enough time. There were not enough ships and many people would be left behind on the dead planet. On the day the ships left the planet she said her final good-byes to her parents and siblings. That had been ten years ago, ten years of living on these ships. Ten years of looking for another home and then in the last month the scientist had discovered a planet that looked like it could sustain them. It was lush and green like there old home. Unfortunately it was populated with creatures who were slowly killing it. The High Council had decide it would be necessary to rid the planet of these creatures. Her people would be better care takers, for they understood the fragility of ecosystems. She looked forward to seeing this third planet from the sun.

Tired and Sore

She stood over his prone form with her colt revolver drawn and ready to shoot again. It had taken her months to track him down, months of ceaseless riding, months of dirt, months of hate, and now that she had finally filled him with lead she felt empty, as if all of her anger had been fired from her body like the bullets from her gun. The first time she had seen him had been that rainy night three years ago when he and his gang had ridden in while the moon was obscured by the clouds, killing her husband, shooting her pregnant belly and leaving her to bleed in the rain as she listened to their laughter as they rode away. She had survived but the child had not, so when her sister had arrived to take her back east she did not resist at first, but then she found her husbands old trunk of clothes left over from his days as a gunslinger and at the bottom was the buttery soft white leather jacket, when she put it on she knew what she had to do. She practiced every day for three months, honing the skills she had begrudgingly learned when she first moved west to marry her husband and after three months she knew that when she found him she would beat him shot for shot. She found him in a whore house in Abilene and at noon the next day she had eased the knawing, burning anger in her heart.

It rings and rings and rings but no one is home

The telephone rang and rang and rang. I slammed down the receiver and cursed at the heavens. Where the hell was she? she had said she would call at 10:30 and that was four hours ago. This was not good. Not good at all. If she did not get here soon every thing would be over. The plans we made would be finished. My mind turned to the the plans we had made. We were going to take the cash and travel the world. We would buy sari's and spices in India and see the Taj Majal. We would climb to base camp in Nepal and drink butter tea in Kathmandu. We would walk the entire length of the Great Wall. We would eat puffer fish in Japan and bath in mineral springs. We would take the Trans Siberian railroad and make jokes with babushkas. We would see the Blue Mosque in Turkey and swim in the Black Sea on the coast of Bulgaria. We would lie on the ground in Transylvania and pretend to have been over come by the charisma of Dracula. We would drink Champagne in France and eat chocolate in Belgium..... The list went on and on and only as the phone rang did I realize another hour had passed. I answered the phone and it was my mother.

" Turn on the TV!" she said.

I turned on the TV and there she was, I dropped the telephone as she was handed the giant check for 350 million dollars with out me.

Composed

She stood in the doorway of the grand ballroom looking for all the world like the most composed women there. She held her head high, her hair was perfectly coiffed, her make-up expertly applied and her dress immaculate. Every one who looked at her envied her composure. She had always looked like this, had always been able to appear as if she had it all together, every minute of every day. But if you had looked deeper on this night you would have seen the slight sheen to her eyes that belied that composure. You would have seen a small speck of blood on her perfect shoes. You would have seen the tightness of her face. If you had looked closer you would have seen that the composure was a mask. A mask she had used well these last twelve years. Twelve years in which she had stalked, caught and tonight killed the perfect husband. Who on his death left her 20 million dollars. Twelve years of composure would soon slip away to reveal the real women she was, but first she had to keep herself composed for one last time and appear like she was the women she claimed to be at this fundraising gala she had organized. Then when her dead husband's body was found in the tragic car accident and once the funeral was over she could take her money and disappear. She could leave behind this boring, composed facade and live the life she was meant to live. Freedom at last.

Six Senteces Volume 1

The new Six Sentences book came out today and is available on Amazon. I have three stories in the collection. It should we fantastic. Rob McEvily who created the website Six Sentences is super cool and if you get the chance you should support the site and buy the book, plus you would also get to read my three stories and one of them is all about a robot of course! I will also have two stories up on the website, one on May 6th and the other May 8th( this one is about Dolly Parton.

Without Fear

Wasn’t it FDR that said “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself?” She was pretty sure that despite his bout with polio and a World War he knew nothing about real fear. He did not know what it was like to be a five year old powerless little girl who watched her father beat her mother every night. He did not know what it was like to be a twelve year old powerless girl roaming the streets at night looking for a way to buy some food because she had no home. He did not know what it was like to be an eighteen year old powerless girl whose only options for survival had been selling her body to anyone who would pay. He did not know what it was like to be a 25 year old powerless woman whose only answer was to leave the baby at the fire station because at least it would be safe there. He did not know what it was like to be poor, abused and powerless all your life and the only dream you had ever had was a home, family and decent job. She figured that if she had the same advantages that FDR had perhaps she too could have been fearless, but as it was, fear was the only thing that kept her alive.

She did not get it...........

Any of it, ever. She could not understand why after all these years it was happening again. The bright lights, the flashes of panic. Couldn't the just leave them alone. Did they have to do this? He told her, she should stopping trying to figure it and just accept it. That she would never understand their reasons. "But don't they understand you love it here and want to stay." "I don't know" he said. "Don't worry they will be gone soon." She just shook her head and sighed. He was right they would be gone soon and then they could get back to their lives and it wasn't like they visited all the time. Once every 10 years or so and for the most part they were good visits. It was really just when they would harp on him to move back home. How could they not understand that she could never live there. She could not raise her kids there. Hopefully one day her in-laws would figure out that the Earth was their home now.

The Experiment

It was four o clock in the morning when they began the experiment. They sat side by side on the lab table as the doctors wired them up. She knew that if it did not work this time she was done. She had grown tired of the constant test and questions. She could she thought go on living this way the rest of her life. It really was not as bad as most people would think. She had over the course of the last six months gotten used to it. She had never really thought that what she would miss most was nail polish. She could not explain why this one stupid little thing made her tear up every time she thought of never being able to paint her nails again, bright sparkly pink, iridescent purple, deep dark red. If the experiment did not work, those days were over. She felt the first jolt of electricity run through her body and then everything went black. When she woke up it was afternoon and she was groggy. Slowly she remembered the experiment, she looked down at her body. She screamed at what she saw. A doctor rushed into the room and asked what was wrong, all she could do was shake her head and laugh and cry. She was back, back in the body she had been born with, back in her self. Thank God the experiment had worked; she had been getting tired of standing up to pee.

She slept through her Life

She could clearly in vivid detail remember the day she meet him. She could describe exactly how he looked and what he said. She remembered the dress she was wearing; it was the green merino wool that brought out the red in her hair. He had been so very handsome with his dark hair, blue eyes and Irish brogue. He was from Detroit come to Chicago to work in the slaughter houses. She was working the reception desk when he checked into the hotel. Her Hotel, owned with her three sisters and brother. They had worked so hard to achieve this and she was very proud of it. But in that moment she first saw him she knew she would give it all up to have him. When they married she was happy. Happy to move to Detroit, happy to leave behind the hotel, Chicago and her family. It was only later she would regret it. After she no longer loved him, after two children, after his drinking destroyed him, after she could no longer remember why she had ever loved him. It was funny ,really, how she remembered the minutest detail about the day they meet but could remember nothing after, not the birth of their children, not the anger, not the violence, not even the day the police knocked on their door to tell her he was dead. She buried him in a cemetery in Detroit, took her children and went home. Could she have guessed that without her memories he would be lost? Lost to the children he had loved in his own way, lost to the grand children that would follow, lost to the great grandson who drove by the cemetery where he was buried every day on his way to work, never knowing that in that graveyard was a piece of him.

A dark haired blue eyed Irishman hangs on my wall. He is handsome. With him is a lovely red haired woman who, looks at him with love. They must have been very happy.

Mixed Nuts

They sat in a circle in her office every Thursday at 8pm. They would discuss their many problems and she would pretend to listen. When they all left at 9pm she would exhale with relief. By 9:15 every Thursday she would be at the bar on the corner of Chandler Street, a drink in her hand and friends by her side. This Thursday was no different. She ordered a drink at the bar and smiled as her friend Dan pushed the bowl of nuts toward her.

Walden Pond

23 July 1845

She had refused him and he was crushed. He had imagined their life together. Him writing wonderful transcendental treatises and her taking care of him, washing his clothes, cooking his food, cleaning the cabin. It would have been perfect. She claimed she cared for him but that her father would never let them marry; he was beginning to suspect this was a lie. Last evening in the Pub he heard from a mutual friend that she had accepted the proposal of another man. It had only been one month since his own proposal. Was she fickle? Were her affections easily swayed? He was in fact sure it must be something in her character for he was a fine catch. He was very fashionable just look at his very cool and stylish neck beard. He was very smart, just look at his great writings and pondering. He was very well connected was not he, with his many fellow transcendentalist? It must be her. I mean what women would not want to live with him in a small shack on the edge of Walden Pond? It was going to be lovely. Oh well, her loss, who needed women anyway? He should get back to his writing.

Elvis has left the Building

He stood by the grave and admired the many flowers left by fans. It was a lovely site to behold. He was still amazed all these years later the reverence people had for him and his music. The fact that even after his death his name could still bring millions and millions of dollars was at times shocking. But he was happy that his family was taken care of because he had had to leave all those years ago and he felt bad about that. He felt bad that his daughter thought he was dead, but it had to be done. His life had been spiraling out of control for so long that the only way out was death. So he had planned it, everything down to the last detail. It had worked perfectly. Everyone thought he was dead and despite the occasional " I saw Elvis story” in the Weekly World News he had lived a quite life. None of those stories ever got close to the truth. Did people really think he would still look like Elvis? After his "death" he had lost weight and dyed his hair blond and gotten plastic surgery. He looked nothing like himself. His current wife and children had no idea he was anything more then Ted Fromby from Winnetka. IL, High School History Teacher and baseball coach. He was really proud of his team; they had made the State play-offs this year. He took one last look at the grave, turned away with a chuckle and headed back toward the front gate where his family waited.

Miscellaneous Monsters

When she had joined with them last spring she had never realized how powerful she would feel. For so long she had lived in the shadows, hidden by her family and of her own accord. Then one night a year ago she had been on one of her late night walks through the city. She avoided the daylight and as the town slept she could wonder the streets without fear of being seen. But on this particular night she stumbled across an amazing vision, at first she thought it was her eyes playing tricks but it was not. There in the light of a street lamp she saw a thug attack a woman and then before she could act from the darkness came this band of misfits who stopped the attacker and helped the victim. They hid their collective identity's behind masks and capes, but she could see that like her they were different. For the first time in her 16 years she knew she was not alone. There were others like her. Others who hid in the darkness, but used their strength for good. She had found not only comrades, but a calling. She followed them back to their hideout that night and begged them to let her join them. They finally relented and let her join the team. She still lived in the shadows of the night but now she had friends and respect and a grateful city. For alone she was just one monster but together they were superheros!

The Day She Discovered Her Superpower

July 4th 1984 started like all the other 4th of Julys she had experienced in her 14 years. Flags were proudly displayed on every lawn, dogs barked in yards and kids played on the sidewalks. They were heading to the parade that morning and then going over to the O’Malley’s for a bar-b-que and swim party. The parade was fun and she got a huge bag of candy. At 14 she was just on the verge of being too old for parades and bags of candy but for this one last summer she was still a kid that was until she discovered her power that afternoon at the pool party. It all started innocently enough. She realized as she was changing in the bathroom at the O’Malley’s that she had forgotten her t-shirt that she always wore over her swimsuit. Her mother who had always thought it strange she would wear a t-shirt to swim in told her to get changed and forget about the t-shirt. So that is what she did and when she walked out of the bathroom that day it was the first time that anyone in the last three years would see her without a bag shirt and they were surprised. The body in the swimsuit was that of a woman. At 14 she was still embarrassed by her shape and had tried, successfully since developing to hide it all behind large shirts. But in her swimsuit she was exposed and embarrassed, but the embarrassment went away quickly when Tommy O’Malley asked her to join his team for water volleyball. Tommy was the eldest O’Malley boy and at 17 with his beach blond looks he was popular with the girls and he had never in the 8 years she had known him ever given her the slightest acknowledgement, but today was different. She was different and she quickly realized the power she had been hiding behind that t-shirt. Over the next several years she would use that power without thought, she became very popular with the boys and liked the attention she got when she wore a low cut top. As the years passed and she got older and wiser she realized that the true power of her weapons was in knowing when to use them and when to conceal them.

New and Improved

She was not so sure that she liked the new and improved Lorali. As she looked at her new face in the mirror she felt slightly sick. Is this who she was now. This pert nosed full lipped beauty queen that looked back from the mirror. When she had first removed the bandages she felt giddy with anticipation but seeing the face was a whole different matter. She looked nothing like the old Lorali. Could she live with this new face. Would she become a different person with this new and improved face. She was scared for the first time since the surgery was suggested. Scared that she had made a mistake, scared that she would change, scared that no one would recognize her ever again. Her doctor entered the room and gently lead her back to the bed. In soothing words he told her not to worry that it would take a little time to get used to the new her. She fell into that dreamless sleep that only medication can bring.

The Doctor walked back to the observation room where his colleuges waited. " I am worried," he started " her heart rate skyrocketed when she saw her face, what if it can not hold out when she finally sees what we have done to the rest of her? What good will a cyborg be if her heart explodes just from the shock of being a cyborg."