I’m writing again.

I know, that’s a weird thing for a blogger to say, but I mean that after 5 1/2 years, I’m working on my book again.  Someday, eventually, it will be finished.  I don’t know if it will ever find an audience, but I don’t really care.  I’m writing this for me.

Anyway, here’s the first “page”.  Let me know what you think.  And just because I have to say it: the following is my intellectual property and may not be used without my express permission.  No permission is currently given or implied.




I am walking in the desert.  The desert that was my home for twenty years, dry and harsh, unforgiving and beautiful.  I see a girl of sixteen years before me with wild eyes and angry lips.  “Child,” I say, startled by her calloused and storm wracked soul, “Child, what wrong has the world done you? What offense has life given you, to make you so sad and render you so broken?”

“You!” she cries, green eyes sharp with accusation, “You have forgotten me, buried me and forsaken me.”

“Forsaken? Forgotten?  I see you in my own green eyes every single day.  I forget nothing and I love you with everything I am.”

“Love?” she spits “Love?  You dare speak to me of love?  Remember, it was through my death came your birth.  You never mourned me but rejoiced you had found life again.”

My heart breaking, tears running from my eyes I turn.  There is a second girl walking through the desert.  For a moment I think she a mirage but as she draws closer, I see the substantiality of her.  Her pink hair blows in a breeze that feels more an oven than a relief.  She draws near and takes me in her arms.  She kisses me; her lips taste of hope and longing.

“Sister, you have forgotten us.  I would have you remember.”

“Woman!” A gruff man’s voice interrupts. “Woman, you have forsaken all of us. Banished us to forgotten past and denied our existence.  Denied us a place in your heart.  I would have that place returned.”  He’s tall, a full foot above myself.  He wears blue in his hair and silver in his nose.

“Brother, brother I-“  I can’t finish.  The three of them surround me and an overwhelming weight falls on my heart.

Crying, I fall to my knees and beg forgiveness.  They press in on me, hands raking my flesh and rending it from my bones.




Darkness.  The sounds of three lives breathing in the darkness around me.  The man asleep at my side.  The girl asleep at my feet and her brother asleep on my chest.  I stretch lazily and my sweet girl passes a lazy paw at my toes as they move beneath the blanket.  My darling boy purrs sleepily as I scratch between his ears.  Turning over and upsetting him from his bed, he moves to my feet with his sister.  I’m soaked with sweat and tears, crying silently as the last of the dream fades away.  They’ve been coming more often, the nightmares.  I struggle with their meaning, defiant of the charges laid against me.  Knowing sleep has left me for the time, I climb out of bed and retreat to shower away the angst of my nightmares.  Cleansed of salt, sweat and anxiety, I stare into the mirror.  She’s there, in my eyes, I can see her.  Staring back at me, curious of the woman I have become.  Wondering if there is any room left in my heart for her.   What she doesn’t understand is that I am still her servant.  Still her, always.  Nothing will ever erase her presence from my life, the scars from my body, the longing from my heart.


About Kalypso

I'm a mess. My brain is a dirty and dangerous place. I'm a punk. I'm a capitalist. I'm a snarky, sarcastic, antisocial nerd. View all posts by Kalypso

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