The Stain

The Stain
- triggerwarning - grief, alcohol

I plunked down into the leather couch and tugged the patchwork quilt over my legs. Maria, my ex-wife, made it during the five long years of our marriage. She made it for Amy, our little daughter.

I petted the fabric, fingers tracing the sewed areas, for the hundredths time, maybe for the hundred-thousandths time by now…

It had been vibrant and colorful, with the reds and blues and yellows thoughtfully arranged on twenty to thirty-five inches. Baby animals playing under the stars and the moon. Pink hearts lined beneath those little paws. My fingertips knew all the stitches.

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Consul

Consul

First time I met consul Niishima, I was preparing tea for the European diplomats. I had that part of the embassy, the guest wing, and the lower common kitchen to myself, so I din’t bother to close any of the doors. The meeting was scheduled that early afternoon.

A tall handsome man manifested in the doorway. I nearly dropped the tray with the cups and napkins. Back then, I didn’t know who he was. I threatened to call security on him. He smirked and said he was going to steal some cakes.  Continue reading “Consul”

C-PTSD progress

C-PTSD progress

I’ve been reading Pete Walker’s- C-PTSD from Surviving to Thriving, and some of his phrases really hit me. It clicked with me so hard, that I had a lucid dream about it.

As a surviver I try to find new meaning in my life, to listen to my heart more, and care less about others. I slowly un-learn my adaptations, and try not to be on the edge that often. It’s a process, really. Slow paces up the mountain, sometimes sliding back down. Patience. I tell myself, after all It’s been more than two decades of abuse, that can’t go away that easily. Continue reading “C-PTSD progress”

Thorns and Rose

Thorns and Rose

Old age was a curse.

Anyone old enough could relate.

It marked the slow end of abilities, and the beginning of limitations. But this was a world made of limitations, wasn’t it? Old age was an abomination, a fence, an unscalable wall, but only if you ignored your abilities all your life long. Within those boundaries, anyone could roam freely.

My name is Rose, like the flower. My short-lived husband, Carl, loved my bloom, my thorns, my venom.  He called my sense of justice, venom.

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the lion roars (2)

the lion roars (2)
PART 1 - LIQUID PEACE

PART 2

PATIENT PAPER

 

The police station was accommodated in an old building, a school from the 19th century.

It took me three hours to get anywhere near Benny.

They had me fill out seven forms, both sides, all identical. The policeman in charge ripped two forms apart, and I had to start again. “Hand slipped.” His comment slapped my ears. This was nothing but mile high harassment. I knew it. The policeman knew it, and I tried not to get too angry. Continue reading “the lion roars (2)”

the lion roars (1)

the lion roars (1)
Part 2 - PATIENT PAPER

PART 1

LIQUID PEACE

The gutter dripped and the raindrops rapped hard on the kitchen window. My eyes were already open. The bedsheets felt cold and damp. The shutters in the living room rattled with the wind gusts.  I’ve been staring at the dark ceiling for nearly three hours. I sat up. Sleep was busy somewhere else.

Another rotten night. Continue reading “the lion roars (1)”

270°

Useless map in my hands, gripped and folded neatly

It’s not where I’m supposed to be, not even nearly…

Where I’m going roads aren’t leadin’, but still needed.

There will be elementary darkness, when greeted –

Solid shadows from the balanced side of hell

lighting up torches of flesh, judging by the smell…

Nothing will flash its presence, to where I belong-

like crumpled up paper – my body won’t respond,

killing synaptic inferno, chemical burn dying

no more sparks to be gathered to a lightning

no more sweet moans, or arching back, no grace

nothing left to be released, diffused into open space…

Capture the blazing oblivion in irresistible pain!

Blinding gaze of ignorance … so stupid and vain.