Tilde Vol.1, Ep.1

I love the way you say "goodnight"

I love this movie. Lullaby of Broadway.  And this song is one of my favorites, "I love the way you say goodnight".  

I'm just imagining my life in ten years.  Sitting on my sofa, working on my computer, and then peering around my laptop screen, I see two little girls with blonde curly hair, laying on their stomachs, fascinated by Doris Day and Gene Nelson.  

They watch the television intently until Doris and Gene begin to dance, then my girls, inspired by the music push themselves up and begin to twirl.  The older one says "watch me, mommy" as she spins, the smaller one watches her big sister and then tries to mimic her, calling out the same with much less annunciation.  They spin until the end of the song, throwing their arms out, abandoning their bodies, and then collapse onto the rug, laughing with dizziness.  

The oldest staggers to her feet and pushes up against the sofa to talk to me.  Then she crawls up beside me, resting her head against my arm, watching me type.  The younger continues watching the movie until she realizes that big sis is on the sofa and not wanting to miss out on the mommy action.  She runs over and flips her leg up on the sofa, almost losing her balance three times, she pulls herself up on the sofa and leans against my other arm.  Soon they are asking an endless store of questions, I answer patiently, of course, and then the next song starts and they're quiet again.  

A boy runs in, stopping directly in front of the tv and my older daughter yells for her big brother to move out of the way, he does so, reluctantly, after rolling his eyes.  He drops to the floor with a heave and then as the movie is ending he asks if I heard the baby crying.  I thank him as I get up to go into the nursery and he climbs up in my spot between his little sisters, I come back in holding the baby and wondering at the wonderful blessings sitting on my sofa and held in my arms.  

I smile as they clamor for another movie.  I turn off the tv and urge them to go play outside... and they run in front of me to get their shoes from the rug by the door.  Laughing as they push open the screen door.

Just a dream I have...

Ellipses Vol.5, Ep.1

White Girl, Brown Dog

I walked along the street one day, from my house to yours.

As I was passing on my way, with my matching hound

I saw a sight, I dare to say, that shocked me to my core.

There was a girl, fair of hair, that is common to see.

Yet along her side, was not a fair canine bride.

But a dirt-brown dog.

I stood aghast, as the girl floated past.

I could scarcely utter "hello."

My own loyal mutt, was himself in a rut, to meet his strange new foe.

For in our town, it is the guide, that dogs and masters coincide.

It happens quite naturally, and the resemblance is often uncanny.

Whit Carnation got himself a Dalmatian, and soon developed spots.

The Irish Setter belongs to the redhead who pets her, on their daily walks.

...

So as you can see, it's odd to me.

White girl, brown dog.

Comment below with your ideas for more townsfolk to coincide with these breeds: Weimaraner, Husky, Golden Retriever, Jack Russell Terrier, German Shepherd, Boxer, Rottweiler, Poodle, Shih Tzu, Beagle, and Dachshund.

Ellipses Vol.1, Ep.3

Cora

Unbeknownst to Cora, her father had just finished being interviewed by the soldiers who had recently arrived at Fort George. It wasn't often that this many officers came to Fort George during training - in fact it had never happened and the whole town was buzzing with speculation. Many of the prominent citizens had been interviewed. Most of the questions were regarding when people had moved to and from Brighton. And all of the children that had been born throughout the last 20 years.

Cora's father had been puzzled by the questions and assumed they were asking for historical or census reasons. He was genuinely surprised when they told him that they may need to see him for further questioning. Though the store was well established - Harry and his family had lived in Brighton for less than than 10 years - they had moved just after Emily was born. So Harry knew little of the town's history - except what he had gathered over the years.

Read Previous Entries Here:

Episode I

Episode II

Ellipses Vol.4, Ep.1

Read along and listen to the original telling here: Ellipses Vol.4, Ep.1 - Classic Ethan & Evan Story.

Classic Ethan & Evan Story.

Once upon a time, in a big house, on top of a mountain, next to a river, down the road from the most beautiful pine forest, there lived two boys: Ethan and Evan!

This story is called "Evan and the Desperate Cry for Help"

"Help! Help!"

Evan ran through the forest and all the way up the road, around the porch to the front door of his house, he twisted and jiggled the handle but it wouldn't open.

"Oh, no! Oh, no!"

He ran to one side of the house, he jiggled and twisted the door [handle], but it wouldn't open!

"Oh, no!"

He ran all the way to the other side of the house to the family room door.

He jiggled and twisted, but it wouldn't open, he started to hyperventilate!

And then he ran down around all the way to the kitchen side of the house again, and tried to push the code into the garage door, but it wouldn't open!

Then he ran to the garage side door and jiggled and twisted but it wouldn't open!

"Help me!

He looked around his house.

"Dear Jesus, please! Someone has to be home I have to go to the bathroom!"

Then he started doing his "I have to pee" dance, and he danced and he danced!

Then he saw his salvation, the weeds!

So he took care of business... in the weeds.

Then of course what happened, his mother comes to the door, sees him standing knee deep, trousers down.

"Evan Jehosaphat Smithers, you are in so much trouble!"

"I really had to go Mommy!

She held a hand in front of her eyes and said "when you are finished, you will come in, I will leave the kitchen door open and you will wash your hands without touching anything!"

Evan finished taking care of business, pulled up his pants, and walked sullenly into the house.

Mommy looked at him and looked away. "Please wash your hands."

Then she asked "Evan, why didn't you come inside the house to use the bathroom?"

"I tried, but every door was locked and I couldn't open the garage."

"Well, Evan did you try the back door?"

"What?"

"The back door behind the garage"

"I tried the garage door but it wouldn't..."

She said "No, honey, the back door, the back door was open because me and your brother and your dad were all swimming. You ran around the entire front of the house and didn't see us. You could have come to the back door, it was open. We locked the other doors because we couldn't see them from the pool.

Evan finished washing his hands and said, "Mommy, you're so cruel! If I had known you were swimming, I would have peed in the pool!"

The End.

Ellipses Vol.1, Ep.2

Cora

Cora hurried down the street to the library - Peter was supposed to meet her our front after he finished shelving the books that had been left out throughout the day. She slowed in front of the tall brick building, and for the first time noticed that she hadn't been the only one rushing down the street. Cora's eyes sparked at the idea that any soldier would take such an interest in her. Indignant, she fumed as he approached at a more relaxed pace.

"Doesn't he know who I am" she thought to herself. "My father is a well respected and upstanding citizen, and my eldest sisters are about to marry into the most powerful families in the county."

The soldier sauntered by Cora - who stood stoically with her arms crossed - staunchly ignoring the intruder. Peter chose that moment to bounce down the steps - scaring Cora high nigh to kingdom come. Her scream drew looks from several passers-by. Peter cautiously touched her arm as Cora burst into a fit of laughter, tears forcing their release. "Are you okay?"

Cora wiped her eyes and said "Sorry - let's go to the Drake's before it gets too late." She grasped the basket full of food - glanced around for the intruder and they hurried off as Peter muttered "crazy girl" under his breath.

Ellipses Vol.3, Ep.1

So here it is. Our story.

I may never meet you. But if I could choose, the following is how we could meet. Could fall in love, marry, and live for the rest of our lives. Or at least a lovely, albeit realistic, option.

Perhaps we will live in the same neighborhood. And being environmentally conscious we walk or take public transit to work. We may have the same taste in coffee shops. And need caffeine to wake up each morning. And for several weeks, perhaps months, we will have lived parallel lives. I enter Starbucks as you leave, you take the 6:50 train, I the 7:10. Perhaps you occupy an apartment in the modern skyscraper across the street with the polite doorman that I smile at every morning as I exit my well established, far less expensive though nearly as glorious, apartment building. We may shop at the same bodega, perhaps order from the same thai place on 5th. And you may order something new every time you call in, wanting to embrace the vibrant offerings. While I stick with my usual “sesame chicken and brown rice” and never dare to expand beyond. I’m certain we don’t read the same books or watch the same television shows or even listen to the same music. Those things seem too trivial to matter. But perhaps we laugh at the same jokes and accept new friends in the same warm and open manner. You must be a little older, I insist. And you will likely have more experience in the ways of affection and love. As I have none. We will likely have experienced similar frustrations, unable to find a willing partner until now. I would prefer if you had never felt you loved someone before you met me, but I am aware that is highly unlikely. And perhaps you should know now. Before this goes too far, that I will have loved none but you. A young girl’s crush, I’ve had. Infatuation, I’ve fought. Like? I’ve liked a lot. But love? Never love. You’ll be the first and I want you to be the only. So when we meet in our coffee shop after a mix up with our drinks. And you pursue me, as clueless as I will be. If you ask me, please mean it.

That’s how we’ll meet, I think. Some joke told while waiting in line. A string of words that will be completely lost on my coffee deprived mind, but I’ll smile and give you a half laugh. Turn away confused and thinking too much about what you seemed to have said. You may be discouraged from pursuing any further conversation, I’ve certainly missed my opportunity to confirm my interest. But you won’t give up. You see something in me. Feel something. Something that you’ve been missing. Something you’ve waited to find. Something that only I have. So you will press on. You must be direct, no one has ever succeeded before, in fact, I don’t recall the last time someone tried. Being direct but careful is the only way to make an impression on me. I will doubt your meaning, your intentions, and perhaps assume that you are joking in some cruel manner. So be consistent and pursue me.

A week or two will pass until you figure out how parallel our lives are.

I will have figured it out within an hour but will not point it out until you read this. (I’m much too quick about these things and it’s my side of the story so I get to be the brilliant, and oft times too cocky, one.)

And suddenly, we’re in the periphery of one another’s lives. You conveniently begin running five minutes late and we continue to line up, sit, and walk in our normal routine, but within such proximity that it’s rude not to acknowledge one another. So after receiving a week of my polite, yet warm, smiles. You summon the courage to begin a conversation with me. Perhaps we make a game of it. A contest of who can tell the best joke, make up the best story about a fellow commuter, or share the most profound secret. You will win because you will risk. I will win because I will listen and hear your heart. Keep opening up to me.

We likely continue in this pattern for weeks. Gently relaxing into an easy and comfortable relationship of pleasantries. Then you offer to buy my coffee one morning. And the next, you have it in hand as you wait for me outside our shop. I protest, but you insist. I hide a thank you note in your briefcase one morning. You tuck it in your wallet and I happen to glimpse it one day. Nearly every morning, I find you with my coffee in hand, standing outside the shop, waiting. I feel guilty for taking advantage and I find a way to slip a little something onto your person about once a week. One time, a small pack of your favorite gum in your coat pocket. Another, a stick of lip balm. A baggie of my top secret family recipe chocolate chip oatmeal cookies. A fortune cookie. And then, in a feverish burst of courage, I write my phone number on the inside of a matchbook and drop it into your coat pocket.

You don’t call. Hours pass, a day, a week. Nothing. We continue our coffee dance but I hold off on any small tokens. Two weeks. One morning, you miss the train and I get my own coffee on the way to my office. The next I have an early morning meeting and drive into the city, you drink both coffees and eat the apology scone you purchased to make up for missing the day before. You wonder where I am and also why you’ve never thought of buying two coffees before, you’ve never felt so energized at work. Our meetings thin out to nearly less than once a week due to vacations, business trips, oversleeping, and just the simple complications of life. Then a month passes, and I don’t see you.

I consider calling you, but I have resolved to never google a man until he’s asked me out.

TBC...

Ellipses Vol.2, Ep.1

Marcy

“I am the teacher!” she spoke with such force that the birds quieted in the trees. In frustration, she kept up her anger march through the jungle. Her face turned upward and she railed at the sky. Her students were driving her mad. The three rotten monsters had forced her to contemplate chewing off her arm. Their refusal to cooperate and their insane annoyance pervaded her mind. Suddenly tripping, she fell onto the road, flat on her face. Face down, she pounded the dust with her fists before hoisting herself up. She brushed off her dress, and her arms stilled as her ears perked at the sound of coming horsemen. A quiet scan of the trees revealed a likely prospect. Hiking up her dusty dress she shuffled her tracks and tiptoed to her pick. Within half a minute, Marcy was high in the tree visiting the monkeys with a finger to her lips. Soon a whole host of riders passed beneath her eyes. The leader slowed and stopped, commanded his men to spread out across the road and into the jungle. Marcy held her breath, not daring to move even though a million pairs of monkey eyes bored into her skull.

Ellipses Vol.1, Ep.1 (Unfinished Stories)

Cora

Once upon a time in a land far away...

A small village, the local storekeeper, and his five beautiful daughters. The two eldest, Abbey and Brita, about to be married to local boys - fine upstanding citizens - future mayer and judge - and quite handsome as well. The two youngest, Delia and Emily, young, flighty, and boy-crazy. The middle girl, always of her own mind, headstrong, and stubborn, the independent Cora. Working for her father at the store and over at the library. Cora filled her free time by cooking and baking any extra food stuffs to take to the poor families that lived on the outskirts of town.

I don’t know why Cora worked so hard, perhaps she felt the need to prove to the world that she was just as desirable as her older sisters and smarter than the younger girls. In any case, Cora was the most beloved of all five girls in town mainly because she had time to care about people while her sisters were involved in other pursuits.

In the spring, the Royal Guard returned to their training grounds at Fort George, just two miles from the village Night time activities erupted with the arrival of the soldiers. The pub overflowed and campfires glistened on hillsides every evening.

During the day, the enlisted, those who had time off, would lounge outside the store, on the wooden rocking chairs. Staring through the glistening windows into the neat and tidey room full of mounds of goods carefully arranged across tables and on shelfs. Beyond the store were four more large rooms were the females of town would wash so to pay for food stuffs from the store.