Short Story, Writing

The Letter

I wrote this very short story a few years ago while I was the sponsor of a writing club at school. We would come up with story starters or topics to write about. The topic on this particular day: Sneaking around behind someone’s back. I really wanted to try something a little different. I admit my mind typically goes to cheating or theft, but I decided to try two sets of sneaking around in my fictional story. As always, if you enjoy my work and want to use it, please make sure you give credit. 

ink pen and parchment on wood

The Letter

The door silently closed behind me as I let myself into the house. The alarm didn’t go off, so I knew that Nick was home. I plopped my bags on the floor and went to search for him. It had been four long days since I’d seen him, and I was actually home a day early.

As I passed by the television, a flash of white caught my eye. There, taped to the screen, was an envelope with my name on it. Footsteps sounded upstairs as I plucked the envelope off the television and opened it.

The breath was sucked out of me and the words swam across the page. He was leaving me. And he was taking the coward’s way out. My eyes narrowed as I realized what the frantic rushing around upstairs was all about. He was obviously trying to get everything packed before I got home.

My body trembled. It tends to do that when I’m really upset about something. I can’t seem to hide any of my emotions. My teeth started to chatter as I contemplated my actions and how to deal with the coward upstairs.

The couch looked inviting, so I plopped down, suddenly exhausted. Three years. Three long years of putting up with him. We had lived together for a year and a half. All the laughs we had together. All the tears we’d shared. Other thoughts flashed through my mind. The forgotten birthdays and anniversaries. The dinners he hadn’t made it home in time to eat while they were warm. The late nights working. Me. Cleaning whiskers off the bathroom every day for the last year and a half.

I sat there quietly remembering, my eyes dry. I slowly put the letter back into the envelope. I got up off the couch. My bag seemed light for the first time that day. I placed the letter back on the television and silently walked out of the house. He was right. The coward’s way was the best way.

Poetry, Writing

Just One More Time… That’s All

I wrote this in December of 2008. It’s pretty obvious it’s about drug use, but I really think it could be about any type of addiction. On a funny note (because the poem is not funny at all), the only reason I even remembered having written it was because my Shih Tzu Zeus will not stop licking this one spot on his hind leg. I literally told him, “Zeus! Stop it! I know it’s an addiction, buddy, but this has to stop before you go bald.” Yes, I talk to my dogs. I was getting ready to post to this blog as I said it. Then it hit me that I had written several poems about addiction. Obviously, they’re much darker than my little dog licking his hind leg. I hope you enjoy. Please remember to credit me if you choose to use any of my work.

Just One More Time…  ????????????????????????

That’s all.

It’s not like I’m

Addicted.

 

I know I told her

I’d quit.

That I chose her

Over It.

And I have chosen

Her.

But it’s

Just One More Time…

That’s all.

It’s not like I’m

Addicted.

 

I know she doesn’t likeDrug abuse

The Stuff.

I know it goes against

Her morals.

She was raised

Differently

Than I was.

It’s just a party thing.

But it’s

Just One More Time…

That’s all.

It’s not like I’m

Addicted.

 

I know I have bills

To pay.

I know I hang out with

The wrong people.

I know I made

Promises

That I’ve broken.

But it’s

Just One More Time…

That’s all.

It’s not like I’m

Addicted.

 

Syringe needle with a drop at the endShe knows

I lie.

Yet I still do it.

She knows

I use.

Yet I still do it.

She knows

I’ve broken my promises.

Yet I still do it.

She knows

That I can’t quit.

Yet I still do it.

She knows

That I’m killing myself.

Yet I still do it.

She knows

She’ll have to let me go.

Yet I still do it.

Just One More Time…

That’s all.