The cards flew across the table. 6 players, 30 cards. Some just tip the edge of their cards to see what they have. Some palm'em then fan'em. The dealer waits patiently as eyes shift and cards shuffle back & forth in hands. There's an obvious novice in the group. He's got tells up the yin-yang. The dealer knows a couple of the people. They're skilled and he knows they'll take advantage of the newbie. The gentleman that draws the dealers eyes the most though is sitting on the end. Dressed in black with matching dark hair, he leans back casually in his chair. There's something about his gaze and silent attitude that's unsettling. The dealer watches as the man takes the hand and then the next 2. The dealer traces the floor with his foot and finds the floor switch that will tell the guys in the back to watch that chair. A second after he taps the switch, the man in black looks at him and smiles but it doesn't look friendly. The dealer becomes nervous. He taps it again as he deals. Sweat beads his forehead. The man in black wins again. And again. The dealer is tapping constantly now.
"Excuse us please." A tall, dark man in a dark suit with dark glasses is standing behind the dealer. "This table is closed now." The dealer is relieved until he notices the man in black is still smiling and leaving the table un-accosted. He looks at the suited man and realizes they aren't here for the player, they're here for him. "No, no, no..." he stammers as the dark man takes him by the arm.
"Who were you signalling to?" the deep voice rumbles. "No one! No one!" "You were signalling with your foot & now you're sweatin' up a storm." "No, I was hitting the switch! The switch for the last chair!"
"It never went off." "The guy in black! You were supposed to watch him!" "There was no signal to watch him." He looked ok to me as I approached. You on the other hand..."
The man in black watched from around the corner as the dealer is escorted to the back. Someone has to take the fall. He almost feels bad for the guy. It will cost him his job but he can find another. The man in black is satisfied. Mission accomplished. He smiles grimly and catches sight of himself in the mirror. His eyes are flickering like static. He blinks and it's gone. Green eyes stare back at him for a momentbefore he turns on his heel and walks out the doors. Calm and cool, just like before.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Walls the color of tears 2/19/11
****pre-note: Liz came into the room towards the end and I lost my train of thought but I sent her out and as I was about to quit I had another thought. Lucky me.****
Hospitals come to mind first. A long brightly lit hallway but not from fluorescent lights. There's a long hallway at one end. White, filmy curtains softly dance. The sun is streaming through them. It's almost too bright to look at. It washes the color from everything. You can only see the blue wall right where you're standing. The floor is white. Maybe tile, maybe carpet. Only a couple of doors break the monotony of the smooth walls. No voices, no sound, no life. It's not creepy though. Soothing. Not necessarily a medical hospital in the common sense. Perhaps a mental hospital or a recovery center. It "feels" safe.
Babies rooms. White clouds along the roof line. A white dresser. Blocks stacked on the floor ABC. A clown doll with a smile. an airplane, prop style, sit with them. A mobile hanging from the ceiling. A lamp, a window and a rug on the floor.
A bathroom with a water theme. Whitecaps on the walls. A gleaming black tub with rounded glass doors that can be hidden. Blue and white marbled tile, also gleaming and glossy. A sink to match the tub. Lots of plant life. They're everywhere. They sit on the counter in long pots. The trace the roof line, circling the room. It's relaxing. It smells fresh. Shiny chrome faucets.
It just occurred to me that I read the topic for the day "walls the color of tears" and I automatically thought blue. But tears are clear. They aren't blue. They fall like rain, look like crystals. Some catch them, some try to heal them. They are shed for sad times, joyous moments and for sheer relief. There are teardrop shaped diamond earrings. They come with frowns and smiles attached. Young, old...male and female shed them...
And the thread is gone. Liz just came in from playing outside. I missed my time by one song. Songs...We cry at movies, songs and books. They come softly, in floods or torrents. Some are kissed away, some are prayed away and some linger for all time.
Hospitals come to mind first. A long brightly lit hallway but not from fluorescent lights. There's a long hallway at one end. White, filmy curtains softly dance. The sun is streaming through them. It's almost too bright to look at. It washes the color from everything. You can only see the blue wall right where you're standing. The floor is white. Maybe tile, maybe carpet. Only a couple of doors break the monotony of the smooth walls. No voices, no sound, no life. It's not creepy though. Soothing. Not necessarily a medical hospital in the common sense. Perhaps a mental hospital or a recovery center. It "feels" safe.
Babies rooms. White clouds along the roof line. A white dresser. Blocks stacked on the floor ABC. A clown doll with a smile. an airplane, prop style, sit with them. A mobile hanging from the ceiling. A lamp, a window and a rug on the floor.
A bathroom with a water theme. Whitecaps on the walls. A gleaming black tub with rounded glass doors that can be hidden. Blue and white marbled tile, also gleaming and glossy. A sink to match the tub. Lots of plant life. They're everywhere. They sit on the counter in long pots. The trace the roof line, circling the room. It's relaxing. It smells fresh. Shiny chrome faucets.
It just occurred to me that I read the topic for the day "walls the color of tears" and I automatically thought blue. But tears are clear. They aren't blue. They fall like rain, look like crystals. Some catch them, some try to heal them. They are shed for sad times, joyous moments and for sheer relief. There are teardrop shaped diamond earrings. They come with frowns and smiles attached. Young, old...male and female shed them...
And the thread is gone. Liz just came in from playing outside. I missed my time by one song. Songs...We cry at movies, songs and books. They come softly, in floods or torrents. Some are kissed away, some are prayed away and some linger for all time.
Friday, February 18, 2011
You're in a courtyard 2/18/11
I turn in a circle. My white dress flares around making the greens seem brighter. The sky is a perfect baby blue with just a few fluffy white clouds. To my right is a set of hedges placed in a circle. A second ring on the inside of them are concrete benches for people to use as they chat together. There is a fountain in the middle. Three tiers of sparkling water, waterfalling tier to tier creating a soothing cadence. There's a couple sitting on one of the benches, heads close, whispering to each other. I continue my stroll. Flower beds abound, planted by color. Trees edge the perimeter. Tall, almost forbidding in their height. They are almost daring you to enter their dark, forrested kingdom. Few are brave enough to venture there. I look at the path behind me. White stepping stones that lead back to the main house. Safety lies there of course. Hearth and home and family and all that. All special. All safe.
I look in front of me again. The forest guards call their challenge. I can hear it in the wind. My eyes close, my face tilts into the soft breeze. Stay or go? Safety or danger? I hear the laughter of the party guests. Someone has started an activity of some kind. Probabaly of the flirty, frolicky kind. One of my favorites. I take a few steps back towards the known. The breeze comes again. It feels more insistant. it tugs at my skirt. My hair is loosened from its knot at the base of my skull. I tuck it behind my ear and look into the darkness between the trees. Something moves deeper in. I can't tell waht it was but at the breezes incessant tugging, I follow. I'm not dressed for a romp in the woods but I don't care. All that matters is that I go. My heart races as my soul settles. Whatever it's looking for will be found here, in the Kingdom of Trees. Branches tug at my sleeves and skirt but never tear. More like a gentle warning. Possible but not guaranteed danger. My white dancing shoes make no sound as I tread softly though the ground is littered with stones, dead branches and leaves. There it is! That flash of movement again. My heart picks up it's frantic race as my soul all but sighs with contentment. This is right. I know it is. Scary, tempting but so right. There is no doubt. I must follow. It's the only thing to settle my restless soul.
I look in front of me again. The forest guards call their challenge. I can hear it in the wind. My eyes close, my face tilts into the soft breeze. Stay or go? Safety or danger? I hear the laughter of the party guests. Someone has started an activity of some kind. Probabaly of the flirty, frolicky kind. One of my favorites. I take a few steps back towards the known. The breeze comes again. It feels more insistant. it tugs at my skirt. My hair is loosened from its knot at the base of my skull. I tuck it behind my ear and look into the darkness between the trees. Something moves deeper in. I can't tell waht it was but at the breezes incessant tugging, I follow. I'm not dressed for a romp in the woods but I don't care. All that matters is that I go. My heart races as my soul settles. Whatever it's looking for will be found here, in the Kingdom of Trees. Branches tug at my sleeves and skirt but never tear. More like a gentle warning. Possible but not guaranteed danger. My white dancing shoes make no sound as I tread softly though the ground is littered with stones, dead branches and leaves. There it is! That flash of movement again. My heart picks up it's frantic race as my soul all but sighs with contentment. This is right. I know it is. Scary, tempting but so right. There is no doubt. I must follow. It's the only thing to settle my restless soul.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Write about ashes 2/17/11
In an urn being slowly poured into the breeze. They float softly and noiselessly through the air. They land softly in the grass and roots becoming a part of the earth, nourishing and supplementing. They coat leaves and branches. Brush softly across butterfly wings and settle in birds' nest. They become one with the earth again.
They coat everything. You can't look anywhere and no see them. Bright pictures that hung on wall are now dingy. Furniture lovingly cared for has it so embedded they'll be discolored for a lifetime. Water swirls across the floor picking up the loose stuff and creating a gray trail. A stream for a mouse. It simply layers everything, including the people sifting through it. The man straightens from his crouching, swipes his hand across his brow leaving a black streak smeared across the skin. Mom stands in the middle of the children's room, looking hopelessly around. She turns a slow circle looking for the best place to start. Her jeans are already coated and chaffing. She reaches for the bedspread to throw in the huge container for laundry and there it lays. Still a marvelous and beautiful pristine white bunny. Her daughters favorite. She doesn't dare reach for it yet. She doesn't want to mar the on thing still perfect in a no longer perfect home with the ash on her hands. She gently lays the bedspread back over it to protect it while she works.
"I want you to write about ashes," the english teacher states.
"What about them?" Several students roll their eyes and think 'what the hell?'
"Anything. What do you think of first when you hear the word ashes?"
"Death," says the goth student from the back.
"Fire," says one. The daughter of a firefighter.
"Fireplaces," pipes up one boy. He lives with his grandparents on their farm on the outskirts of town.
"What do they do?"
"Float." "Make a mess." Laughter ripples through the room. "Bank a fire."
"What do they look like?"
"They're gray." "Actually, they can be any shade of black to any shade of white."
"Hey! What about volcano ash?" The small science loving boy asks.
"Very good." "Cigarette ash?" "Of course."
"Wow. There's a lot for something so simple."
"Yes there is. Now expound!"
They coat everything. You can't look anywhere and no see them. Bright pictures that hung on wall are now dingy. Furniture lovingly cared for has it so embedded they'll be discolored for a lifetime. Water swirls across the floor picking up the loose stuff and creating a gray trail. A stream for a mouse. It simply layers everything, including the people sifting through it. The man straightens from his crouching, swipes his hand across his brow leaving a black streak smeared across the skin. Mom stands in the middle of the children's room, looking hopelessly around. She turns a slow circle looking for the best place to start. Her jeans are already coated and chaffing. She reaches for the bedspread to throw in the huge container for laundry and there it lays. Still a marvelous and beautiful pristine white bunny. Her daughters favorite. She doesn't dare reach for it yet. She doesn't want to mar the on thing still perfect in a no longer perfect home with the ash on her hands. She gently lays the bedspread back over it to protect it while she works.
"I want you to write about ashes," the english teacher states.
"What about them?" Several students roll their eyes and think 'what the hell?'
"Anything. What do you think of first when you hear the word ashes?"
"Death," says the goth student from the back.
"Fire," says one. The daughter of a firefighter.
"Fireplaces," pipes up one boy. He lives with his grandparents on their farm on the outskirts of town.
"What do they do?"
"Float." "Make a mess." Laughter ripples through the room. "Bank a fire."
"What do they look like?"
"They're gray." "Actually, they can be any shade of black to any shade of white."
"Hey! What about volcano ash?" The small science loving boy asks.
"Very good." "Cigarette ash?" "Of course."
"Wow. There's a lot for something so simple."
"Yes there is. Now expound!"
Things that enter by way of silence 2/16/11
-a soldier through a window
-a fly through an open door
-a wolf through the trees towards it's prey
-death can come and go silently
-a butterfly into a flower
-the presence of god whether you're in the church looking for help or out in the real world knowing he's there. You might be praying over a child and feel a sudden warmth across you're shoulders. You might find yourself staring at headlights in your own lane and then suddenly it's over and you're safe. Maybe you're a victim of a crime and just when you're ready to crack, someone or something comes along to to put a smile on your face. A friend calls when you're crying tos ee if you're ok. You're parents make a surprise visit just when you're ready to strangle you're kids.:-)
He may not be in that exact spot you're standing in but he'll send someone to that spot or something to fill in. He knows what's needed without anyone speaking and he can answer without a sound. Silence can be both good and bad. Calming to the frenzied and maddening to those already in it. Some are trained to enter a place silently and some practice to do it.
-a fly through an open door
-a wolf through the trees towards it's prey
-death can come and go silently
-a butterfly into a flower
-the presence of god whether you're in the church looking for help or out in the real world knowing he's there. You might be praying over a child and feel a sudden warmth across you're shoulders. You might find yourself staring at headlights in your own lane and then suddenly it's over and you're safe. Maybe you're a victim of a crime and just when you're ready to crack, someone or something comes along to to put a smile on your face. A friend calls when you're crying tos ee if you're ok. You're parents make a surprise visit just when you're ready to strangle you're kids.:-)
He may not be in that exact spot you're standing in but he'll send someone to that spot or something to fill in. He knows what's needed without anyone speaking and he can answer without a sound. Silence can be both good and bad. Calming to the frenzied and maddening to those already in it. Some are trained to enter a place silently and some practice to do it.
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