Untitled Short Story

Exotic and mysterious, gripped by an unfathomable serenity…surrounded by blue magic. From the moment I saw you, I knew it was true. It’s the depth of your being that captivates so many...me. While they’re out to anatomize your molecular properties, I’m desperately trying to reach your core and feel you. Trapped between paralysis and a yearning so strong it burns, I realize I must initiate that first point of contact…that precise moment in time when our worlds collide and that coveted love is unleashed…

Her long dark hair extends past her torso. She’s quite a lovely young woman: olive complexion, almond-shaped eyes, full lips, matched with the most darling persona. Like usual, it’s mid-day and under the cumulus clouds, she strolls freely… enjoying the sand between her toes. She closes her eyes, lifts her head, and accepts the sun’s heat. I know why she’s here. She knows why she’s here. She tries her best to avoid the locals, but to no avail.

“Sirena, why do you spend such long hours on this beach? You should be in the city. Go find yourself a soul mate,” prods a little elderly woman with basket-weaved flip flops and a straw hat.

“Aidia, it’s just so beautiful here,” Sirena explains, drawing circles in the sand with her feet.

Looking up at the sky, Aidia offered, “Suit yourself. Don’t stay here too late though. My hip is bothering me today.”

Raising an eyebrow, Sirena utters an exasperated, “Huh?”

“It’s going to rain before the day is out. Umm hmm…the weather is sure to drop,” and just like that, Aidia walks off, whistling to herself.

Nightfall began to fall upon us, almost methodically. Below the dark nimbus clouds, Sirena quickens her pace to avoid the fast-approaching storm. The cool night air makes her body tremble. The droplets of rain penetrate her skin and saturate her hair. No longer walking, she begins to sprint. Faced with decisions: run for cover or go for it?

Within moments, I am within arms length. Sirena squats down and allows her fingertips to touch me. Her heart palpitates.

“Okay. This is it: the moment I’ve been waiting for,” Sirena declares, almost matter-of-factly.

Instantaneously, she dives and admires her surroundings. She eagerly connects with me. Like a chemical reaction, her transformation takes place before my eyes. Her slender fingers wipe a few droplets from her face. Her legs are no more. She smiles…admiring her shimmering, azure and jade scales, and speckled tail. I hope she stays with me for awhile.

55 Word Story Chapbook

I am pleased to learn that two of my 55 word stories, Over Starbucks Coffee and I Do It Once a Week, were selected for the 55 Word Story Chapbook, which will be published by Lilly Press! Twenty-four stories were selected in all, based on the following criteria:

Stories are complete with a beginning, middle, and end and are...

descriptive,
humorous,
challenging,
provocative, and
imaginative.

Books will be featured on the River Poets website and can be ordered through paypal.

Timeless, Raceless, Sexless…Barrierless

Regardless of our differences, we are able to connect with individuals through the gift of poetry…

Driving along a deserted path one Saturday afternoon…sun roof open. Music blared from the speakers. I soaked up the sun and absorbed the earth-shaking bass lines. Arriving at my destination, I pulled into the parking lot of a quaint, somewhat-desolate white house. Stepping over an abandoned tri-cycle, I climbed the creaky stairs. I entered the room and met the quizzical eyes of ten strangers, all about 15 years my senior. I quickly scanned the room of curious faces, and immediately wondered if I was in the right place.

After hearing a soft, gentle voice, “You must be Erika,” I realized: this is the place. Despite this realization, a wave of awkwardness enveloped me…I’m not certain whether it was the age difference, or the fact that I was the only individual with high melanin concentrations in the room. Perhaps, it was a combination of the two. Nevertheless, I found an empty seat and tried to get comfortable.

No real introductions, we delved right in. One after another, they allowed their emotions and creativity to pour out. Really good stories and poetry. How good? Well, lets just say, if my body was litmus paper, their words alerted me to the presence of arousing, poignant, and oftentimes – witty poetry and prose. I laughed, felt goose bumps, and other times... Well, I was extremely touched after being introduced to American poet Sharon Olds by someone in the group. I found myself holding back tears as she read her work. “The Last Evening” was that poignant -- touching on a subject that many can relate to -- experiencing the slow death of a loved one and desperately trying to come to grips with it.

And then it was my turn to share. I read, “Synchronized Hearts,” an original poem about connecting with someone, spirit and energy, in the midst of chaotic, arousing music. They, too, felt the presence of my poetry, offering words of praise, debating about its sensuality, and overall -- providing meaningful feedback/critique.

It was at that moment that I was reminded of something I once heard about poetry: it is truly a gift that connects people, despite their differences...timeless, raceless, sexless…barrierless.