Friday, February 4, 2011
Today's writing prompt is from Writer's Digest Writing Prompts: Write an episode where you and your favorite fictional character meet accidentally.
Prologue: My husband and I just started watching Dexter on Netflix. We're addicted. The show is wonderfully written, thus right now my favorite fictional character is in fact, Dexter. It took me a bit to figure out how I would want to meet Dexter accidentally. I didn't want to be a victim! I decided I would interupt one of his kills. But then I had to think about who he'd be killing. And well, if he lived around here, I know exactly who his next victim would be, if she wasn't serving 20 years in prison! So I went with what I know. Names have been somewhat preserved, but if you know me, know my other blog, you'll get it. maybe I'm a little sick for writing this, but then again, who knows, maybe Dexter was right when he said "Everybody's got a little Dexter in them".
“Tonight’s the night. And it’s going to happen again and again. Has to happen. Nice night.”
Dexter says as he’s driving down Ocean Drive in Miami on a late, storm stricken night. His mind is on the kill he’s about to make. His windshield wipers push away the unwanted rain, just as he will push away Bali Godson, the worst of the worst, a child killer. Bali has no remorse for what she has done, and the court systems haven’t done enough. Justice needs to be served.
A black duffle bag of tools sits beside Dexter in the passenger side. Godson’s mug shot is partially covered by a photo of her latest victim’s photo. A beautiful boy, he couldn’t even be a year old yet.
Those eyes. They’re captivating. So innocent. Dexter’s distracted by his feelings. What are these feelings? Does he actually have a heart to break. Even as a cold blooded killer, he can not fathom taking the life of a child.
Suddenly, the front of his car is flooded with red lights. Lights glare off the rain, there’s a sudden screech. More red lights. A crash.
What has he done? Dexter looks to the passenger seat, photos scattered across the front of the car. A needle on the floor. A knife, lodged into the glove box. His heart is beating a bit faster as he thinks, “good thing I rear-ended someone and wasn’t hit from the side, hard telling where that knife would have ended up”…
“Shit!… I rear-ended someone”. Dexter tries hiding everything, but before he’s able to completely conceal the photos and the knife, a woman approaches the driver’s side window.
She appears to be in her late 20’s, maybe early 30’s. Mom like, but not shaken by what has just happened. She has a bloody nose, but seems sincerely concerned about the man that has just failed to stop at the light and rammed the back of her minivan.
“Are you ok?” she asks. There’s silence as the rain pours down her face, Dexter is fascinated with the watered down blood following the raindrop trails over her lips.
“Sir? Are you ok?” Dexter snaps out of it, scrambling to get out of his car to block her from the contents of the front seat. But it is too late. She has seen it already, her body language changes, she’s a bit embarrassed.
“Yes! Yes, I’m fine… oh, are you ok?” He leads her between the cars to access the damage.
“Fine, Fine. Barely any damage. No need to call the cops!” she states as she’s trying to lead Dexter back to his own car.
Dexter recognizes this behavior. It’s one he’s demonstrated many times when Sergeant Doakes is on his case about giving him the creeps. Dexter looks closer at the back of the minivan. There’s a blue ribbon decal on the back window, Shaken Baby Syndrome Awareness. His thoughts were confirmed about her being a mother; an empty car seat is strapped into the back seat of the van. There’s also a circular pattern on the back, a cleaner spot where something once was…. There it is. A magnet, now stuck to the front of Dexter’s broken bumper. He bends down to pick it up to give back to the mother. As he turns it over, the same beautiful eyes that distracted him from the photo on his seat, are looking at him from the magnet, with the words “Justice for James” on it.
He hands her the magnet and gives her a slight smile, “Justice for James” he says. Dexter and the mother exchange knowing looks and depart.
Prologue: My husband and I just started watching Dexter on Netflix. We're addicted. The show is wonderfully written, thus right now my favorite fictional character is in fact, Dexter. It took me a bit to figure out how I would want to meet Dexter accidentally. I didn't want to be a victim! I decided I would interupt one of his kills. But then I had to think about who he'd be killing. And well, if he lived around here, I know exactly who his next victim would be, if she wasn't serving 20 years in prison! So I went with what I know. Names have been somewhat preserved, but if you know me, know my other blog, you'll get it. maybe I'm a little sick for writing this, but then again, who knows, maybe Dexter was right when he said "Everybody's got a little Dexter in them".
“Tonight’s the night. And it’s going to happen again and again. Has to happen. Nice night.”Dexter says as he’s driving down Ocean Drive in Miami on a late, storm stricken night. His mind is on the kill he’s about to make. His windshield wipers push away the unwanted rain, just as he will push away Bali Godson, the worst of the worst, a child killer. Bali has no remorse for what she has done, and the court systems haven’t done enough. Justice needs to be served.
A black duffle bag of tools sits beside Dexter in the passenger side. Godson’s mug shot is partially covered by a photo of her latest victim’s photo. A beautiful boy, he couldn’t even be a year old yet.
Those eyes. They’re captivating. So innocent. Dexter’s distracted by his feelings. What are these feelings? Does he actually have a heart to break. Even as a cold blooded killer, he can not fathom taking the life of a child.
Suddenly, the front of his car is flooded with red lights. Lights glare off the rain, there’s a sudden screech. More red lights. A crash.
What has he done? Dexter looks to the passenger seat, photos scattered across the front of the car. A needle on the floor. A knife, lodged into the glove box. His heart is beating a bit faster as he thinks, “good thing I rear-ended someone and wasn’t hit from the side, hard telling where that knife would have ended up”…
“Shit!… I rear-ended someone”. Dexter tries hiding everything, but before he’s able to completely conceal the photos and the knife, a woman approaches the driver’s side window.
She appears to be in her late 20’s, maybe early 30’s. Mom like, but not shaken by what has just happened. She has a bloody nose, but seems sincerely concerned about the man that has just failed to stop at the light and rammed the back of her minivan.
“Are you ok?” she asks. There’s silence as the rain pours down her face, Dexter is fascinated with the watered down blood following the raindrop trails over her lips.
“Sir? Are you ok?” Dexter snaps out of it, scrambling to get out of his car to block her from the contents of the front seat. But it is too late. She has seen it already, her body language changes, she’s a bit embarrassed.
“Yes! Yes, I’m fine… oh, are you ok?” He leads her between the cars to access the damage.
“Fine, Fine. Barely any damage. No need to call the cops!” she states as she’s trying to lead Dexter back to his own car.
Dexter recognizes this behavior. It’s one he’s demonstrated many times when Sergeant Doakes is on his case about giving him the creeps. Dexter looks closer at the back of the minivan. There’s a blue ribbon decal on the back window, Shaken Baby Syndrome Awareness. His thoughts were confirmed about her being a mother; an empty car seat is strapped into the back seat of the van. There’s also a circular pattern on the back, a cleaner spot where something once was…. There it is. A magnet, now stuck to the front of Dexter’s broken bumper. He bends down to pick it up to give back to the mother. As he turns it over, the same beautiful eyes that distracted him from the photo on his seat, are looking at him from the magnet, with the words “Justice for James” on it.
He hands her the magnet and gives her a slight smile, “Justice for James” he says. Dexter and the mother exchange knowing looks and depart.
To learn more about SBS and the toll it takes on real families, read a terrific blog Justice4Trevor!
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
For weeks my writing has consisted of html and CSS. The company I work for is launching a new website and an online shopping cart.While my personal writing is suffering, my brain is working on overdrive! I am learning so much about style sheets, php, dynamic run time, blah blah blah... seriously, I've learned a lot, but I'm also very very lost! I do not claim to be an IT person, I have no desire to become an IT person... however, I happen to work for a pretty small (employee wise) company and I do 80% of the web work. I am the only one that has taken an html class, and I thought I could handle the install of a shopping cart.
BAH! Was I wrong.
But FINALLY, Monday, I found out it's not entirely my problem, or my lack of understanding. I called tech support for the shopping cart and they said I had hosting issues and that I needed "dynamic loading" enabled and our host had to do it. So I called the hosting company, and they're pretty smart people. About an hour after being on the phone with the hosting tech guy... he says it's not a hosting issue, it's the shopping cart's issue... back to square one.
We've decided on a fix - instead of trying to edit and fix, we're starting from scratch. A big issue is the whole Windows hosting vs. Linux... so we're going to fix that. And right when I'm ready to start I receive a phone call from a client saying he wanted to purchase an item from our online shopping site, but the site isn't working. UGGGHHHH! I feel like Charlie Brown and the football known as the Internet/Web Site keeps getting yanked out from before me as I go to kick it!
I've been working on the new issue for about 3 hours now to no avail. I want to cry... and I've learned another new phrase: "Syntax error in ORDER BY clause". Anyone know what that means, because I sure don't!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The smallest creatures in life make the biggest differences. Photo and prompt copyright © Alex Kaplan.
This is not my dog. To the left is someone else's dog. It is merely the photo prompt and above is also the title prompt. And it is definitely a true statement.
This prompt comes with perfect timing and makes me think of our dog, Jessie. I thought about writing all about Jessie, where we got her, when, and the impact she has made on our lives, however I'm hear to write a blog post, not a novel. Instead I'll tell you about the past three days.
Three days ago our 4 year old Boxer/Lab mix tore the ligaments in her knee jumping out of our van. Within minutes she began limping, we thought maybe she landed wrong and let her rest for a few hours. It became clear to us that she didn't just step on a rock wrong, she was clearly in pain. I called the vet and booked her in the next available appointment at 5:30 that evening.
The vet knew right away what she did and we were faced with two options. Surgery or no surgery. We were then given an estimate for the surgery and sent home with pain meds for Jess.
Luckily we didn't have to make a rush decision, but we do have to make one. If we do the surgery it's going to cost us about $2000. She'll be "like new" if all goes well. If we don't opt for the surgery the pain will cease in a week or two, she will use that leg again, but we run the risk of more damage to that knee, or the other leg, and arthritis setting in quicker.
It's such a hard decision. And in honesty, there is no decision to be made. While I want to book her for surgery right away, we can not. There is absolutely no way we can afford the $2ooo. That is more than our mortgage payment. We just can not afford it.
It breaks my heart to see Jessie lying on the floor with no desire to play. She just looks sad. The pain medication is helping, and since we can not do the surgery, they will give us stronger medication for her to take for anther week. I feel guilty that we can not do this for her, but we also need to be able to keep a roof over all of our heads too. If only that money tree would grow out back!
By the way... this is Jessie:
Friday, January 7, 2011
The fastest way from point A to point B may be a straight line, but how often in life is that made capable?We often set out on paths in life that we think will be straight forward. We know it may not be an easy path, but we have chosen a clear path towards a goal, towards something in life and conscious or not, we look for the fastest, straightest route.
All too often though, that path becomes skewed. Twisted. And even a jumbled mess. Sometimes we even loose sight of the goal we have set out to obtain.
In recent events surrounding my life I have watched the path that I want to be on start to twist and turn, sometimes it appears to have just stopped, a dead end. I choose a different path to follow along, even if it's just a side path to temporarily put my focus on something other than my main goal. Low and behold, that short-cut lead me back to the original path, slightly ahead of the bump I was avoiding, and I can continue on.
I know that life is too short. I've had loved ones pass away before I felt that I had learned all I wanted from them, and even before I felt that I knew them the way I wanted. I've watched friends and family struggle through economic hardships, health issues, spirituality. And I myself have done the same.
I've witnessed people that I have looked up to and admired for years, become complete strangers to me. And people I have never met, except on the Internet, become true friends for life.
One thing has always remained important. Just now it has become a little clearer. My path is happiness. I will trudge on threw messes, tangles, weaving on and off my main path, but through it all I will make it back. It is important to me to do things for myself and my immediate family. And while this does not mean that I will be putting blinders on and turning away from others, I simply will be following my path of happiness.
And I will get to where I need to be.
Photo and prompt copyright © Marie Claire Saint Maux,marieclairartistafrican-art-quilt.blogspot.com.
Monday, January 3, 2011
It's one of the most beautiful places in the United States, probably in the world, but since I haven't been to many places out side of the US, I can't be sure. It's one place where you can have the forest at your back, rock under your feet, sky above your head and ocean before you. Acadia National Park in Maine is simply breath taking.Despite being July, it was still a cool, slightly overcast day, about 65 degrees. I was thankful the rain ceased and the sun was struggling to make an appearance as I started the assent up the Beehive trail. And later, I was thankful that I had decided to wear shorts and my sun hat, the hiking and climbing, sometimes complete vertical stretches with iron rungs blasted into the side of the rock to help your climb, warmed up my body and it wasn't long before I was sweating.
520 feet later, I found myself at the summit. Beautiful. Behind me was the trail I had just trekked. Looking down upon the path I knew I had just come from, it didn't seem possible, there didn't appear to be a path at all, just a pile of rocks. Slightly breathless from the climb, and slightly from the swoon from looking down, I decided to see what else I could see from the top.
The ocean. The sea. The Atlantic. The deep blue color clashed against the light bluish-gray sky giving away it's cold temperature. For as far as I could see, the Atlantic Ocean laid before me. As I stood there, I took in the sights of the water, I listened to the waves crash on rocks below me and off to the distance. The smell of the salt filled my nose and lungs. A few seagulls had joined me at the summit. Unafraid of me, they walked around the rocks until realising I had nothing to share with them, they flew off to see what else they could find. I remained where I was. In complete solitude, in allure of the great Maine outdoors.
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