This week’s prompt for the Six Word Story challenge at Sometimes Stellar Storyteller is…
Joyous
The winner is the story with the most likes in the comments of the weekly Six Word Story Challenge post. If you like my story, please visit here and like it in the comments. And while you’re there, enter your own!
My story…
Watching their smiles with happy tears.
xo ♥
We stopped at the red light,
Garbage truck ahead.
Sometimes they smell awful,
But this one wasn’t bad.
I said when the light changed,
‘Hey, don’t get so near!’
And that’s when we saw it.
It fell out from the rear.
Greyish, small and confused
‘My God, what is that?’
The creature that crawled out —
An icky little rat!
~~~
True story. From about four hours ago. Gross.
I feel like I’ve had an epiphany. Maybe. Half an epiphany? Maybe.
I have my ups and downs. At certain times of the day or times of the week, I suspect the ‘downs‘ are coming. Yet I haven’t been able to figure out how to avoid them… at least not entirely.
But this is a post about feeling better. Feeling good.
One of my ‘weak spots‘ has been Sunday nights. This used to be a downer for me when I was still at my horrible job before the layoff. Knowing I had to go back to the hellhole Monday morning ruined Sunday for me.
But…
Today is Monday. [Okay, it’s Tuesday because it’s after 2:30 am, but I haven’t been to bed yet, so I’m still on Monday.] Yesterday [meaning Sunday] just sort of floated by without me paying much attention to what day it was. It wasn’t a huge downer this week. And I can only attribute that to one thing.
No, not the joys of Christmas. Seriously, I’m still me…
The one thing is something that was missing this week.
Every Sunday night, I have ‘the moment‘ when I get the same overwhelmingly upsetting, even guilt-ridden, thought — everyone has somewhere to be tomorrow morning except me. Every single Sunday. This week, I didn’t have it. It was missing. And I know why.
The kids have school for three days this week — Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday — so they are not home until mid-afternoon. But John is on vacation. Neither of us had anywhere to be Monday morning [other than taking the kids to school, of course]. While I was home with nowhere to be, John would be, too.
In my day-to-day life, I want alone time. I need it. I enjoy it. But I want it on my terms. I don’t want it to come with feelings of uselessness and irrelevance and pointlessness. I think those are the things at the root of my weekly Sunday distress.
Does this mean some part of me actually wants a job? God, I don’t know. I still have the enormous, all-consuming fear that I’ll end up in a job I loathe and it’ll rot my soul. But I need a purpose. I’d love that purpose to be writing fiction or blog posts or something like that. But without any form of pay for those things, I’m left feeling valueless… worthless… pointless. And guilty.
I had none of those feelings this week because John is home with me. It’s like the uselessness and pointlessness and worthlessness and guilt are magically negated by not being alone… by not being the only one with nowhere to be. I’m not useless or pointless or worthless or guilt-ridden when I’m making breakfast for someone else or running errands with someone else. When I am with someone, taking care of someone, I have a purpose.
I’m still not sure where this leaves me. It does feel like a light turned on in the darkness of my brain. What I should do with that light, I don’t yet know… I guess I am ‘to-be-continued‘.
Christmas was magic when I was a child. Like the Christmas version of a Lifetime movie. Storybook-level magic. I wouldn’t have believed it was real-life if I hadn’t lived it.
My parents were amazing and beyond generous. Christmas morning was a dream. I still vividly remember the one where the Barbie Dream House was waiting for me. I may have cried with joy.
a recent pile of presents at mom’s (not as big and sprawling as when I was little).
My mom is pretty much Martha Stewart. At the peak of her Martha-Stewart-ness, I think we had 8 Christmas trees of varying shapes and sizes around our house. Not to mention all of the other decorations… inside and outside. We probably could have opened to the public and charged admission. But not in a tacky overdone way. It was all beautiful and elegant while still being festive and fun. Swags and lights and wreaths and little Santas and snowmen and reindeer… but nothing flashy or blinding. Beautiful.
my favorite of mom’s trees.
My dad used to put on his Santa costume after we went to sleep. He wore it until he went to bed so he’d be ready to walk quietly around the main Christmas tree if he heard my sisters or me wake up and get out of bed to peek downstairs. I think I was 4 or 5 the year I saw him. I snuck out of bed and tiptoed to the top of the staircase. I squatted down low… lower… until I could see presents under the tree. Santa’s been here!
And then I saw red pants… white fur… black boots. Santa’s still here!
Knowing I would be immediately transferred to the naughty list if Santa caught me out of bed so late [assuming I started out on the nice list, of course], I hurried back to my room and hid under the covers. I was too excited to sleep at first, but I finally conked out. I never told anyone I saw Santa [naughty list fears]. But when I hurried downstairs in the morning, I knew it was real. All that was left on the fireplace was an empty glass and a plate of cookie crumbs. And the carrots were gone.
Magic. I wish I could have bottled it… because it didn’t last and I’d love to feel that kind of hope and joy now… today… tomorrow… whenever I want.
I will never forget my first Santa-less Christmas.
I was only 6 years old. Oh, I believed. Rankin/Bass ‘Santa Claus Is Coming to Town’ was my bible.
A few weeks before the big day, I sat at our kitchen table to write my letter to Santa. My eldest sister, then 10 years old, sat across from me. I offered her paper and a crayon to 
write her own letter but she said no. Then she broke my heart.
You don’t have to write that, you know. But if you do, just give it to Mom and Dad. I was confused. And she explained. Because she is an enormous bitch. You know Santa’s not real, right?
I didn’t believe her. I ran out of the kitchen crying and screaming for my mom. The bitch thought this was funny. Mom hugged me and tried to make me feel better. She did all the right Mom things. But I was a smart kid. Some of the things I knew about Santa were pretty far-fetched. I was always a bit suspicious of the flying reindeer. And the logistics.
I tried desperately to force myself to keep believing, but I knew. I was devastated. I was only 6 years old and the magic was ripped out of my heart. That bitch.
It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed Christmas since then because I have. But it was definitely never the same. I could have had a few more years with the hope, the joy, the belief, the magic. But B [we’ll call that sister B because, you know, bitch] ruined it. I have never truly understood why she was so cruel to me [oh, her cruelty never ended… more on this later…]. Maybe it was because she didn’t believe anymore – if she had to live without the magic, so did everyone else. Because bitch. And you bet your ass I stopped her from squashing my younger sister’s magic Christmases! My little sister J was only 3 – she hadn’t even been alive long enough to fully enjoy the magic.
I continued acting with pure, excited Santa-belief until J was 9, I think. She came to me and told me she heard things at school. She knew. I confessed. And I know she loved me for letting her – helping her – believe as long as possible.
My kids both still believe… as far as I know. I’m fairly certain about my daughter [8], but less sure about my son [10]. He is definitely suspicious, but he has not said anything definitive. He is so like me, though. He looks for logical or scientific explanations for everything. But until he comes to me explaining how he has figured out that Santa is impossible, I won’t volunteer any sort of confirmation either way. But I dread the impending inquiries from him as well as my daughter. I don’t want to take the magic away. I don’t want to break their hearts. But… at least they have both enjoyed the magic of Santa Claus longer than my bitch sister let me enjoy it.
I hope some small part of that magic stays with them forever.
Again, I am honored and humbled to be selected for a blogging award… or two. It’s so satisfying to know people out there are enjoying my blog.
I am now versatile and lovely. I may develop an ego for the first time in my life… because I’m already neat and epically awesome. And I’ve now taken the 3rd place position twice in the Six-Word Story Challenge here. [For believe and memory — thank you everyone who ‘liked’ my entries!]
Thanks, my kind friend, Paul for the Versatile Blogger Award nomination. Paul is super nice and encouraging to everyone. Visit him!
And thank you, my lovely friend Tiegan at Harbour for the One Lovely Blog Award. She is a young, wonderfully creative artist and writer. Visit her!
Versatile Rules [which I may loosely follow!]
1. Thank the person who gave you this award.
2. Include a link to their blog.
3. Select 15 blogs that you’ve recently discovered or follow regularly.
4. Nominate those 15 bloggers for the Versatile Blogger Award.
5. Finally, tell the person who nominated you 7 things about yourself.
Lovely Rules [which are easier for me to follow!]
1. You must thank the person who nominated you and include a link to their blog.
2. List the rules and display the award.
3. Add seven facts about yourself.
4. Nominate however many other bloggers (this is a fluctuating number for everyone) and let them know about their nomination!
I’ll say what I always say – visit these blogs I’ve listed – they are wonderful and written by wonderful people. And I think they are both versatile and lovely!
To the bloggers I’ve listed – Do with this what you will… respond or don’t, take one award or both; go crazy or ignore. Whatever makes you happy. I’m just giving you a big fat pat on the back for being great. [And there aren’t 15… so I’m breaking the versatile rules… that’s just how versatile I am… ha!]
14 things about me
[7 for the versatile award + 7 for the lovely award, in one big fat list]
xo ♥
Two weeks earlier…
Kate kicked her old swing and watched it sway back and forth. She loved that her parents never took the swing set away. Every visit brought her back to her happy childhood. But she wasn’t especially happy now.
When Sara joined Kate outside, Kate paced toward her mother.
“Katie? Are you okay?” Sara asked.
“Yeah. But… Mom? God, what is wrong with men?”
Sara laughed. “Oh, honey, if I knew the answer, I’d be a very wealthy woman.”
“I just don’t understand him. Michael and I were together for almost two years. And he suddenly needs to be alone for a while?”
“I don’t have the answers. But he will regret letting you go.”
“Mom, you have to say that. You’re my mother.”
“I’m also right.”
The sun began to set and the breeze brought a chill to the air. “It’s getting cold, Mom. Let’s go inside. We can cook dinner together.”
“I already have a dinner date.”
“With Dad?”
“You’re funny,” Sara shook her head. “You know very well he’s far too much of a perfectionist to leave the studio this early.” Kate did know. And she admired her dad’s talent and dedication to his art. “I’m going to Jill’s for dinner. And you’re coming with me.”
“Mom…”
“Jill would love to see you. And the boys are home. You can catch up…”
Kate missed spending time with her best friend. For as long as she could remember, he was there. But over the last couple of years, since his band got signed, she wasn’t able to see him as often. But they talked. Always. Almost every day, even if just for a few minutes. And he teased her almost as much as he did when they were five.
“So he’s going to be there? Oh, Mom, I don’t know if I can handle seeing him right now.”
“What, honey? He’s your best friend.”
“But you know he’ll tease me. I’m not sure I can handle that right now. Not with the whole Michael thing…”
“You smile when he teases you. I’m sure that’s why he does it. I know it makes you happy.”
“I don’t know, Mom.”
“We don’t even have to tell them about Michael. You can talk about it when you’re ready. Get your jacket. We’re going.”
~~~
Kate sat near Sara and Jill, completely distracted, barely aware of them. Why am I anxious about seeing him? Mom’s right – he’s my best friend. Des. Des and Katie… inseparable since, well, birth. His birth anyway. I had a whole three weeks before he showed up. He does make me smile. But it’s been a while. Maybe it will be different. Oh, stop it Katie! No matter how long he’s ever away, it’s always the same. So why am I such a mess? Stupid Michael.
“Katie?”
She looked up to Jill and smiled. “Sorry.” Kate smiled shyly, knowing her name was probably spoken more than once before she realized anyone was talking to her. “Want me to set the table?”
“No, hon, we’ll do that. But could you run upstairs and find Des? He mumbled something about borrowing my shower when he got here after playing with the boys earlier. Could you tell him to come down for dinner?”
“Sure.”
When Kate reached the stairs, she felt a strange pang in her chest. What was that? It’s only Des. She needed to stop thinking so much. The whole situation with Michael had her on edge. Maybe I should tell Des. He’s always been the one I talk to and cry to… and laugh with. We’ve been through everything together… the perfect not-couple.
Meandering down the upstairs hall, Kate looked down to the floor and shook her head. Stop thinking so much. It’s only Des. She took a few steps down the hall before lifting her head. When she did, her eyes met a bit more of Des than she expected.
He stood before her, fresh out of the shower, his hair damp, his only attire a white towel wrapped around his waist. Jesus, Katie, stop looking at his chest. It’s Des, for God’s sake! When she finally ripped her eyes from his body, she found a huge smile on his face. She felt a weight lift from her. It was Des and nothing had changed.
“Hey, Des.”
“Katie! Hey, sweets!” He grabbed her into his arms, not bothering to consider his lack of clothing. Or his somewhat drippy hair. She didn’t care, though. She needed that hug. Des made her feel safe and content. She could almost forget Michael ever hurt her… for the moment, anyway.
“It’s good to see you, kid.”
“Are you going to call me that for the rest of my life?” Des asked.
“Probably.” She laughed. “I’m older. I get to call you that.”
“Yeah, three weeks older, Katie.”
“Still counts.” She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Yeah, okay killer. You’re so mature.”
“Are you going to call me that for the rest of my life?” She threw his words back to him.
“What?”
“Killer.”
“I guess you haven’t given me a reason lately. Not since you killed Harry.”
“Des, Harry was a cricket. And you put him on my ice cream. What did you think I’d do?
“Scream?”
“I’m pretty sure I did that, too. And it was, like, twenty years ago – shouldn’t you be over it by now?”
He ran a hand through his damp hair pushing away the strands that had fallen into his face. “Yeah. I guess I’m over it. But you’re still killer to me.” And with that, he stuck his tongue out at her.
“All right, kid. Your mom says dinner’s ready.”
“Okay, killer. I’ll be right down.”
~
Alone in Jill’s kitchen washing the dinner dishes, Kate fell into her own world. Distracted, she didn’t hear anyone enter the room. She had no idea she wasn’t alone until she felt fingers tickle her sides. She giggled and squirmed and nearly dropped a plate from her hands. She turned her head to see Des behind her, looking far too self-satisfied.
She growled playfully and placed the last of the dishes in the rack. “Des, you’re such a kid.” She turned around and leaned back against the counter.
Des’ expression turned a bit more serious. “So, how are you, Katie? We’ve barely talked about you.”
She stood there hoping that he wouldn’t ask about Michael. Her eyes fell from his and she stared into her fidgety hands. “I’m fine. Not much to say, really.”
“Oh, come on. Your life is never boring. Talk to me.”
“That depends who you ask,” Kate said. “I mean, I’m not touring the world with my band or anything.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Like always, Des tried to dismiss his exciting life as just his job. “What’s been going on? Tell me.”
“Hmm… we got that huge client we wanted,” she said. “I still can’t believe Meredith put me in charge of that…”
“Of course she did. Katie, you’re the most talented person there. So… what else?”
“I don’t know. Seriously, it’s not as interesting as your life,” she smiled, “my best friend, the rock star.”
“Shut up!” He still wanted to know what was really on her mind. He knew something was going on inside her head. He could read her a little too well. “Killer,” he stepped closer to her. “What’s going on with you? Is everything okay?”
“Sure, why?”
“You are such a liar.” He smiled and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Look at me.”
Kate looked up at him. His stupid eyes always make me confess everything. Jerk. “Des, I’m fine.”
“I don’t believe you,” he said, giving her a little smile. “Do I have to find a bug to stick down your shirt?”
She let out a little laugh. “I think I just need some more coffee, but thanks for the offer, kid.”
~
Des and Kate abandoned their moms and snuck away to the living room sofa. Kate leaned back into the pillows and sipped her coffee. Des rested a foot on the coffee table and let his head fall back into the cushion. He turned his head and looked at Kate.
“You look great, killer.”
She turned to him with a smile. “Thanks.” And then she promptly stuck her tongue out at him again. Maturity was unnecessary with Des. It was a relief to her. Michael was a little stuffy sometimes. He was a bit obsessed with his work. He could be sweet and fun, and sometimes he was. But… Ugh, stop thinking about Michael! Kate had to distract herself with Des. She did not need to relive Michael’s break-up speech again. Tonight was supposed to be her night off. “So, how are you… really?” She asked Des. “And I don’t mean more road stories…”
“I’m all right. Tired… I love touring, but it’s exhausting. I’m happy to be home.”
“I’m happy you’re home, too. It’s good to see you,” she said with a smile.
“So tell me what’s wrong…?” he asked again.
“I told you… I’m fine.”
“And I told you I know you’re lying. Besides, everyone knows fine does not mean fine.”
“Des…” She really didn’t want to talk about Michael.
“What?”
“Tell me what else is happening in your life…”
Des smiled and gave in. He knew Katie was keeping something from him, but he also knew she’d tell him when she was ready. “Not much. Clearly… since I’m having dinner with my mother.” They laughed. “I really didn’t want to see Nat tonight. It was kind of a relief when Mom called.”
“Why? Is everything all right?”
“I guess it’s okay.” He chugged down the rest of his coffee and put the cup down. He ran his hand through his hair. It was nearly dry, and no matter how he pushed it away, a few strands found their way back onto his face.
“Just okay?” Kate wondered.
“Yeah. I don’t know. Maybe Mom’s right. She never liked her.” He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, not at Kate. But she watched him. “I liked her… but now… something’s just… wrong… missing… I don’t know. I’m messed up.”
“No you’re not. Not any more than I am… or anyone else…”
“Katie, you’re not messed up. You’re so together. You always have been.”
“I have not!” She had to let out a little laugh. “Maybe I’m just better at hiding it.”
“Well, I think you’re amazing.” Again, his head fell to the side and his eyes met hers. “Hell, I’m in a relationship with someone I know is wrong for me. I need to get out of it. I’ve been away from home for three months… I missed my family… and I missed you. I didn’t miss her. I was kind of glad to be away from her.”
“You should have said something… at least to me.” She laughed softly. “Jeez, you really are messed up!”
Des laughed, too. “Wow. Thanks.”
“You know I’m joking, kid.” She kicked his leg playfully.
He kicked her back. “Yeah, I do.” He grabbed a pillow and tossed it at her. “So… where’s Michael tonight? I’m surprised you’re not with him.” A laugh escaped his mouth as he mumbled, “that boring stiff.”
“You don’t like him at all, do you?” Kate asked, tossing the pillow back at Des.
“He’s a nice guy… smart… I guess I like him but… I don’t know, Katie. I just don’t think he’s right for you.”
“Okay, Dad.” She giggled.
He had to laugh, too. “Sorry.” He watched her bring her knees up to her chest and rest her arms on them. When she looked at him again, he smiled. “I know he makes you happy and that’s good enough for me. But I guess I… worry about you.” He was silent for a moment. And Kate knew she had to tell Des everything whether she wanted to talk about it or not. With a deep breath, she opened her mouth to speak, but Des’ words stopped her. “It’s none of my business. I just…”
“Des, you’re my best friend. Of course it’s your business.”
He reached towards Katie and grabbed the only part of her he could reach from his side of the sofa. He wrapped his hand around her ankle and looked at her face. “He’s just not the guy I imagined you’d end up with. And I don’t want to see you settle for someone who’s not good enough for you.”
“You shouldn’t settle either.”
“I know…” He smiled to her. “Just promise me you’ll think about what I said? Don’t let him change you… don’t let anyone…”
Kate took her eyes from his. She turned downward and stared at her hands. “You don’t have to worry about that, Des.”
“Huh?”
“I was kind of trying to avoid talking about this tonight but… he dumped me.”
“What?! God, I hate that guy!” Kate laughed at Des’ angry words. “Come here, killer,” he said, extending an arm to her. She crawled over and leaned on him. His arm surrounded her and pulled her close. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Just happened.” Kate was nearly mumbling to him. “Yesterday.”
“Jeez, Katie. I thought things were going okay?”
She laughed. “Yeah, me too.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Katie?” She knew he was looking down at her and she knew he wanted her to look at him. Finally, she lifted her head from his chest until her eyes met his. “You’re not okay. I know you. You’re pretending you’re okay like you always do. But you’re not.”
“Maybe you were right. Maybe I knew deep down that he wasn’t right for me.” She sighed. “I guess that makes it easier.”
His hand petted her hair, and again, she rested her head on his chest. She closed her eyes and listened to him talking. “Damn, Katie, you are the strongest woman I know. Right for you or not, you were with that guy for a long time. But, God, look at you now. You’re amazing.”
Kate didn’t say anything. She just wanted to concentrate on feeling safe with Des’ arm around her. She didn’t want to think about Michael hurting her. Yes, she was doing okay, but it was still painful.
“You are way too good for him. And I still don’t think you’re okay,” Des said leaning down to plant a kiss on her head. “But I’m here for you.” Kate heard him laugh. “Even in person this time.”
She let a tiny laugh slip out as well. “Good timing, kid,” she said softly.
“Yeah,” he said messing up her hair with his fingers. “I’m pretty cool like that.”
~
Kate felt so safe and warm with Des, she almost dozed off leaning on him. But she opened her eyes when she heard Jill and her mom walk in. She pulled herself up to sit.
“You ready to go?” Sara asked her.
“Sure,” Kate said, starting to stand. But Des reached for her arm and grabbed it to stop her.
“Katie,” he said, “don’t go yet. I can drop you off later on my way home. Stay.”
“I don’t know… I’m really tired.”
“I won’t keep you up too late. Promise.” He smiled.
“I guess I can stay for a bit.” Somehow, he always managed to make her give in. Jerk.
~~~
never say goodbye.
If you can’t find the words to say
‘See you later’ would be okay
‘Until we meet again’ will do
If I must be away from you
You can say, ‘sweetheart, do take care’
I think those are words I could bear
‘We will talk soon’ can be our script
But there’s one word we have to skip
Kiss me, hold me and make me sigh
But, honey, never say ‘goodbye’
[Day 10 prompt: Farewell.]
~Writing 101 | Poetry | day 10
hidden inside.
Smiling, no matter how I feel
A script of joy, my guide
No one can know the real story
I keep it all inside
It makes me tired, sometimes weak
Emotions cast aside
It’s not okay to be this way
I keep it all inside
I must try to be someone else
Play my role, truth denied
Acting skills are now perfected
I keep it all inside
I wonder if I will ever
Be free, my ropes untied
Cannot imagine being true
I keep it all inside
Maybe not for them, but for me
Wholly undignified
But not alone if I pretend
I keep it all inside
I am human, not perfection
I should not have to hide
But fake is easier than real
I keep it all inside
Weary from searching for someone
In whom I can confide
At times, I even feel hope but
I keep it all inside
And if I find real happiness
True and false will collide
That is why, whether up or down,
I keep it all inside
[Day 9 prompt: Camouflage.]
~Writing 101 | Poetry | day 9
Liam Sullivan's Ideas and Reflections
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