I froze again. Frozen solid. Couldn’t move a muscle, couldn’t speak, couldn’t cry, couldn’t collapse, just couldn’t. Carlos blocked me from their view, “Thanks again, everyone, for your help. Have a safe journey home.”
He turned and looked at me. “Sarah?” he whispered. Nothing, I thought, there’s nothing there. “Okay,” he said as he looked around the courtyard, “Honey, this is going to be unpleasant, but I need you to snap out of this, we have too much work to do,” he said as his eyes stopped in the back corner of the yard. “That’ll have to do,” he said as he picked me up and flew across the yard, toward the waterfall. He hovered over the deep pool, the pool full of ice blue glacier water, freezing glacier water. Then we fell, plunging deep, the shock of hitting the cold better than any slap in the face. I heard myself scream underwater. Carlos grabbed my hand and pushed off the rocky bottom. He let out a whoop when he broke the surface, “THAT is some frickin cold,” he yelled. I quietly started swimming toward the edge. “Sarah?” he said as he swam next to me, “I’m sorry, it’s the only thing I could think of.” I pulled myself up on the edge and sat with my feet in the water for a moment. I tried to smile at him, “I’m not mad at you Carlos, you did the right thing,” I said, “I just don’t want to be mad at him, but how could he do this? How could he know she was here and not tell anyone? How could he not tell me?”
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Saturday, May 1, 2010
From "The Link" by Dara Nelson
The first time I actually saw him was down on the pier . I didn’t really feel that surprised though, which was odd. I was trying to figure out why, but wasn’t having much luck right now because the fog seemed to be not only surrounding me but also in my head. Just looking at him for a second and my normal thought process seemed to have flown the coop. I’d gone for an evening walk, and though the waterfront was not the safest place to be alone, I loved the sound of the waves lapping up against the fishing boats docked for the night. So, safe or not, this was where I usually walked. But I wasn’t completely crazy. I carried my mace and a whistle, just in case. But this man never made me feel like I needed to close my fingers around it, the way I did when so many others passed me. With this guy I felt strangely comforted.
He was standing at the end of one of the pier. But he wasn’t looking out at the water. He was facing me. I swear he was watching me. I felt a chill go down my spine, not because I was afraid, but rather because I felt safe. That and he was absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous. I slowed my pace a bit and watched him. I was a little confused because he seemed so familiar. But, hell, a face like that I’m sure I would’ve remembered. His wavy dark brown hair rustled in the breeze. While staring at him, I almost walked off the path into a lamppost. I stopped myself just in time. I smiled and shook my head at how ridiculous I was and then turned and continued on the path by the water. I turned once more to look back at him…and he was gone. “Figures” I said.
This continued for several nights (luckily the rain was staying away. In this part of the Pacific Northwest it’s hard to get 2 dry nights in a row anytime of year and this was spring). Each night he would be standing in the same place and each day his face continued to be foremost on my mind when I was at work. Who was this man and why did I feel as if I already knew him? Why did I feel so drawn to him? Why did it seem like the hardest thing for me to do was continue on my walk instead of walking right up to him and wrapping my arms around him? It truly felt like my arms belonged around him. On the fourth night I saw him again, always in the same place as before. I smiled at him and then made my turn along the path. I turned and looked at the water one last time, my eyes marveling at the last of the sun dancing on it, then turned back, looked straight ahead, and stopped in my tracks. He was there, about 100 ft in front of me, sitting on a bench on the edge of the path, watching me.
The first time I actually saw him was down on the pier . I didn’t really feel that surprised though, which was odd. I was trying to figure out why, but wasn’t having much luck right now because the fog seemed to be not only surrounding me but also in my head. Just looking at him for a second and my normal thought process seemed to have flown the coop. I’d gone for an evening walk, and though the waterfront was not the safest place to be alone, I loved the sound of the waves lapping up against the fishing boats docked for the night. So, safe or not, this was where I usually walked. But I wasn’t completely crazy. I carried my mace and a whistle, just in case. But this man never made me feel like I needed to close my fingers around it, the way I did when so many others passed me. With this guy I felt strangely comforted.
He was standing at the end of one of the pier. But he wasn’t looking out at the water. He was facing me. I swear he was watching me. I felt a chill go down my spine, not because I was afraid, but rather because I felt safe. That and he was absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous. I slowed my pace a bit and watched him. I was a little confused because he seemed so familiar. But, hell, a face like that I’m sure I would’ve remembered. His wavy dark brown hair rustled in the breeze. While staring at him, I almost walked off the path into a lamppost. I stopped myself just in time. I smiled and shook my head at how ridiculous I was and then turned and continued on the path by the water. I turned once more to look back at him…and he was gone. “Figures” I said.
This continued for several nights (luckily the rain was staying away. In this part of the Pacific Northwest it’s hard to get 2 dry nights in a row anytime of year and this was spring). Each night he would be standing in the same place and each day his face continued to be foremost on my mind when I was at work. Who was this man and why did I feel as if I already knew him? Why did I feel so drawn to him? Why did it seem like the hardest thing for me to do was continue on my walk instead of walking right up to him and wrapping my arms around him? It truly felt like my arms belonged around him. On the fourth night I saw him again, always in the same place as before. I smiled at him and then made my turn along the path. I turned and looked at the water one last time, my eyes marveling at the last of the sun dancing on it, then turned back, looked straight ahead, and stopped in my tracks. He was there, about 100 ft in front of me, sitting on a bench on the edge of the path, watching me.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
I suppose it's time.....
Well,
I've been holding on to my "babies" for long enough now. It's time to let them venture out into the world....albeit a little at a time. I don't want to get too crazy with it just yet. So, I will post a few pages at a time - maybe even a chapter. If you'd like to see more, just let me know.
The photographs, also near and dear to my heart, are from my hikes. Here in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, it's hard to find an "ugly" hike. In fact, I'd definitely say it's impossible.
I've been holding on to my "babies" for long enough now. It's time to let them venture out into the world....albeit a little at a time. I don't want to get too crazy with it just yet. So, I will post a few pages at a time - maybe even a chapter. If you'd like to see more, just let me know.
The photographs, also near and dear to my heart, are from my hikes. Here in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, it's hard to find an "ugly" hike. In fact, I'd definitely say it's impossible.
Give me a few days to get everything up and running - I do live in the real world and have a day job (for now).
Thanks for reading/viewing.
Thanks for reading/viewing.
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