The Shadow Knows.

The Shadow Knows

It’s hard being someone’s shadow. First of all, you never know where or when you are going to show up. Sometimes you follow the person you’re shadowing, which makes sense since that is what shadowing means. But sometimes you are moving side by side and other times you are leading the one you are “Shadowing’” Shouldn’t you be called a “leader” then? 

And then of course there’s the size issue. Are you smaller or taller than your object or person? Are you long and thin or short and fat? A mirror doesn’t do that. But listed on your shadow job application and requirements are flexibility and adaptability. Also on the application is the requirement of stick-to-itiveness. Where ever your object goes, so must you. They may be standing still or running or digging a ditch and you have to follow their every movement. Even if they don’t work at all, you must always move, change size, shape, position. Our boss “Light” is a demanding one. 

The only breaks you are allowed are at noon when the sun is directly over your assignment’s head, if it is dark, or if your boss is just too lazy to shine. 

A shadow should be a well-respected entity. We are everywhere and provide a lot of comfort at times. Ask anyone sitting under a tree on a hot sunny day. We cool you down. That may be the only time we get any appreciation. 

We live in a colorful world. Beautiful flowers and sky, and oceans… you name it. So considering all of the colors available and how important we are you would think shadows would be the most colorful. But no, it’s monochrome for us. How boring. No wonder no one thinks highly of us. 

I mean, they even use us to make pictures. Get a strong light in a dark room and someone will put up their hands and make a dog or bird, show up on the wall. They think they’re so cool. They just have to fold their hands up, we do all the work. 

Life as a shadow could be an exciting thing. It would be great if all of us shadows got together and formed a shadow union. But alas, that is forbidden in our contract. If we ever do unionize, I hope the first thing on the agenda is to give us a voice, since we are only seen and not heard. I guess that’s where the proverb came from.

Hopefully, those of you that read this will now have a better understanding of our plight. You should stand still for a while and watch us work. A little applause once in a while wouldn’t hurt. And if you position yourself just right, you’ll even see us give you applause back. 

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Opposites

Opposites

Being a two year old is hard. It’s not that I have no experience. I mean I’ve been around for over 730 days. That’s a lot of days. I know so much more than I did when I started. So if that is so, why does everyone always disagree with me and tell me I’m wrong?

“Here, you have to eat your vegetables. They’re so yummy,” my mom would say.

Has she ever eaten them without me around? Yuck. I want that sugar cereal instead. I know it is good for me. I feel so energized after eating it. I get no energy from vegetables. But no, I have to accede to their demands.

And these people know nothing of beauty. That painting I did on the living room wall was priceless. One of my best drawings, even better than the one I painted on the couch last week. But no, my dad would yell at me, “You’ve ruined that wall.  Now I’ll have to spend money to get someone to clean that ugly spot up.” Absolutely no appreciation for fine art.

Everything is you cannot do this, you cannot do that. Who made my sister in charge of all the things in her room? I live in this house too, you know.

And don’t get me started about cooking. Everyone in the house gets to cook on the stove, but the moment I go near it I get, “Don’t go near that, it’s dangerous!” from everyone. Yet they touch it all the time, even when they’re not cooking. It must be safe. 

Why does everyone call me stingy? Sure, I don’t want anyone to be playing with my toys, but what the heck, if sharing is so important,  maybe a little generosity on their part with their things that they won’t let me play with might set a good example for me. 

They always smile at me and want me to be happy. Well, I’m not. I’m quite sad. They don’t give me the opportunity to do anything. It’s always “Don’t do this Junior.” “No, Junior.” “Not now Junior.”

Heck, I’m over 730 days old. I should be considered a Senior by now, especially since the new kid just arrived yesterday. I’ll bet she gets to do all the things that I can’t do once she gets home from the hospital. 

Just wait until they want me to help her or do anything. I’ll just do the opposite. It will serve them right. 

 

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Blackout

Blackout

It should have been a normal evening. I finished eating supper, cleaned up the dishes, made myself a hot cup of tea, and sat down in my favorite chair waiting to watch that mystery show that everyone was talking about when the lights went out. 

This wasn’t one of your prepare yourself for a blackout lights out. This was a full scale lights out, power down, nothing worked, plan on being the dark for a long time blackout. 

I was on my own. Of course, if I had any emergency lights or flashlights they were nowhere to be found. However, I did know where I kept a candle. So off I went to find it. Having a candle is a great thing to have during a blackout with no battery operated lights. But one should note that it is also important to have something to light the candle with. As luck would have it, I did find a match that was useable. It was the only one left in the pack of matches that I inherited from my father who was a chain smoker. I hoped it would work. 

As old as the match was, it actually produced a flame, which in turn ignited the wick on the candle. There was not enough light to read by, so I just sat in my comfy chair and stared at it. 

The golden flame with its blue luminescent halo glowed unsteadily in front of me. Its shape wavering creating different images in my mind. A dragon, spurting breaths of fire in the air, towards a towering castle (which was my bookshelf). A wizard waving his wand casting spell upon spell morphing from one creation to the next. The bold knight who clashed in the dark with the evil queen before she could destroy his one true love. The golden firebird who with its dying breath was reborn in a flash of flame that sent wishes and adventures up in the feather-like plumes of smoke. 

All these images created by my ever wandering mind from the flame of ideas that emanated from that lone candle, in the still darkness of the black that surrounded me, and filled my consciousness. As the candle burned down and the light receded into nothingness, I fell asleep. But now I was no longer alone. I was joined by the company of all that I had seen igniting my mind with stories. Stories to create. Stories to write down. Stories to share. 

Some might call the darkness of a blackout a problem. A cage of captivity with nothing to do. But for me, it is the beckoning of ideas and adventure. And I love it. 

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On a scale of 1 to 10

On a scale of 1 to 10

Heredity can be burdensome sometimes. When your parents and grandparents and ancestors even further back leave a history of certain ailments, you must constantly check to see if you have any of those indicators.

Leo thought he was going in for a routine examination. It did require a 20-minute surgical procedure. He’d had the same procedure before, and though he wasn’t looking forward to it, he knew it was a necessary checkup. Leo just wasn’t prepared for the amount of paperwork and the time the whole process took.  Continue reading

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A View from the Inside

A View from the Inside

The storm comes unexpectedly. Living in a quiet community where nothing ever happens, leaves you unprepared when the storm hits. Especially when it is as violent as this one is.

I am just sitting inside my home, admiring the picture-like scenery that appears through my window. The lush snow-capped mountains, the frozen pond not far off with all the children skating together with smiles on their faces. The toasty fire lit in our fireplace providing us with all the warmth we need. Feeling good that I am in a safe environment when the storm happens. 

The ground begins to shake. Snow begins to fall; a whiteout situation. We can barely see anything. As time goes on the tremors subside, the snow continues to fall in swirls at first and then gently glides to the ground which is now snow-covered again. And it was over.   

This is not the first time it has happened. But it is always the same. If I had known all this when I volunteered to be part of this biodome experiment, I would have refused. But I did volunteer and because of the contract that was signed, there is no way out of this situation without physically breaking the dome that was built to protect us and dissolving the contract that was signed. 

At the time we all signed on for this experiment it was to protect our planet from all the failings that the people in charge made. They had ignored global warming and its consequences. We all thought we were doing the right thing to build these domes. But now I’m not sure. What have we learned?

On the bright side, we have survived for a long time. We are free to move around our enclosed environment provided we stay still when being observed by the scientists or whoever is in control of our domes is near. That prevents them from collecting any biased statistics when analyzing our environment.  At least that is what they told us. But now I’m beginning to question that mandate. Without seeing us move or interacting with us, how do they really know what effect all this is having on us? 

I said that the storm comes unexpectedly, but I have noticed that it always seems to occur when there is a shadow cast over the dome and an observer is near. Are they physically doing something to our domed environment to cause these tremors and snowfall? 

Someday I hope to be free of this dome and able to walk along the paths of my youth unhindered, where the air is free and clear, not encased in a globe of liquid. That is my hope. But until then I remain here, watching the white covered landscapes and scenery around me, with its occasional snow squalls and tremors, which in their own way add to the visual beauty of our home.  

Let others enjoy it from the outside; our tiny domed globe of snow.

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Only on this day…

Only on This Day

Only on this day are we allowed to ask “Why?”:

Why did we ever allow this to happen?

Only on this day are we allowed to ask “What?”:

What was the purpose that was served by our misguided action?

Only on this day are we allowed to ask “Where?”:

Where did it all begin and how will what has started end?

Only on this day are we allowed to ask “Who?”:

Who will bring us forth from the depths of despair into the light?

Only on this day are we allowed to ask “When?”:

When will all the hate and divisiveness end?

Only on this day are we allowed to ask “How?”

How can we, as a people, come together and proceed?

Only on this day are we allowed to ask “Which?”:

Which of us will be the one to take the lead?

Only on this day…but wait…it is not just this day – 

Today is this day, as is tomorrow, and the next.

And we hold the answers to each of the questions,

Though we may or may not know all the answers.

We are the ones that must choose to respond.

For that is who we are and what we will become,

Not only on this day but every day. 

And though we are allowed to ask, “Only on this day…”

It is only together, united as one, that we can succeed. 

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Grime doesn’t pay

Grime doesn’t pay

It was the toothbrush that gave him away. George had planned the perfect coverup. All he had to do was dispose of the item. It had taken time to get all that he needed together to do this dastardly deed. 

First, it was the supplies he needed. There was the mask, which was easy being in COVID times was available. And then gloves, same access as the mask. There were the cleaning tools needed to make sure he left no trace of the crime, towels, wipes, disinfectant, bleach, toothbrush – all in proper order.

Then there was the timing. When would she leave and be out of the house long enough where he could sneak in and commit the act? That was the unknown, though due to fortunate circumstances, her milk ran out for her morning coffee that day and she had to leave to get more. She was addicted to coffee with milk. The opportunity had arrived. 

George was quick, didn’t even wait until the car was out of the garage. He swiftly gathered his materials and went to the closet to retrieve the sweater that he had inadvertently stained with coffee the day before. The bigger problem was that George was no expert on stain removal. 

As he pulled out the sweater he looked for a place in which to work. The kitchen sink seemed the most logical place. It was there that he soaked the sweater in a sink full of water and bleach, then not so carefully brushed the spot with the wipes and the toothbrush and ended with disinfecting the whole area before blow-drying the sweater in the bathroom and hanging it up, unfortunately, not back in the closet. 

Needless to say, he didn’t actually look at what he was doing throughout all of this as the ballgame was on and he was focused on watching it instead of the task at hand. In fact, George never even saw the great white blotch which now pervaded through his handy work. 

The ballgame was close, so he quickly threw all of the incriminating material in a cupboard and went back to the game. To his misfortune, the toothbrush was left out in the kitchen sink. That nice new blue marked toothbrush that used to have an indicator on the brush head that alerted you when it needed to be replaced was now all white. 

His wife came home shortly thereafter. He was back watching the game. She put the milk in her coffee and passing the sink noticed the toothbrush. “Why is there a toothbrush in the sink?”

George played the innocent, saying, “I have no idea. I was just watching the game.”

His wife knowing something was up, went to the bathroom to return the toothbrush to its proper location. And that is when she saw her sweater. 

Needless to say, George was outed and as much as he pleaded his innocence, his goose was cooked. 

Some say it was the toothbrush that gave him away. And others just said, “You married him. You knew what you were getting into.” and left it at that. 

 

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To Be or Not to Be…That is the answer!

To Be or Not to Be…That is the Answer!

    Deep in the heart of darkness, there is a small part of me that wants freedom. In the dark where there are no pictures, no sounds, no smells, nothing. I may understand what is out beyond the darkness, but to reach it I must give myself to the light, which without any around me, is hard to find. So I sit and wait. This may sound dismal but in reality, it is not. To me the most comforting place to be is in a quiet, secluded, place, free from all interruptions and distractions. 

    The darkness allows me to focus and create. As ideas flow through my head I build my imagination. I allow myself to experiment with ideas and play through different strategies to accomplish tasks. 

    I am in my dark formless space each night. And there, it is my dreams that create the images that I can see, though there is no light in the room which I stay in. Ideas flourish as my mind wanders. Too bad, there is no device that can capture that which I build and create. For when that freedom I seek for in the light comes, I take it, though it is always at the wrong time. My thoughts have not coalesced and formed lasting memories; I forget. 

    Even though that part of me that wants freedom, it would prefer to stay in the dark where all the stories play themselves out. 

    But wait, there is another place that is like the heart of darkness and is kept in the light of the pen and keyboard. Their glowing embers, call to me and seek out the stories within me. As I grab onto pen or pencil or touch the keyboard, I feel some of the same comfort and images that have eluded me and I write. 

    That freedom, so desired in the heart of darkness is found. It grows in the light and becomes, not just ideas, but real stories and events, of sight, smell, sound, taste, and touch. It becomes who I am and who I choose to be for all to see and hear. 

Being part of both dark and light worlds is how I write and create. It is what I do and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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Time

Time

“Time, that’s all I need!” I screamed out at no one in particular.

“Time for what?” my inner self said. “You’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Great that’s just what I need. Now I’m wasting time talking to myself.” I said aloud in a room filled with no one.

“Just because you can’t see me,” was the reply, “does not mean I do not exist. So why do you need time?”

It seemed more efficient to at least respond to this invisible self that I had created. “Time to write,” I emphasized. “I have a deadline and I must be done on time.”

“So what’s stopping you? As I said you have all the time in the world.”

“And what happens when the time runs out and I have nothing to show for it?” I asked.

“Just write, be patient, don’t give up, you’ll get it done, you always do. Didn’t you hear what Anne said you always come up with an idea?”

Now I was getting annoyed as time continued to move on and I hadn’t figured out how I was going to finish my writing. I pushed my inner thoughts, “Then you help. You come up with a good prompt and get me started.”

Rather than ignore my comment his reply was quick; he said, “Not my job.”

I made a mistake. I never should have gotten involved in this conversation. It was just a waste of time. I decided to take a risk and start writing.

He was clearly aware of my intent and reminded me that this isn’t over yet, “Good Luck,” was his thought, which I appreciated.

So I just started writing… “Time, that’s all I need!” I screamed out at no one in particular.
And sure enough, words kept coming…

And this is how it works. Sometimes I just need a little push from my inner self to get me started. I ignore the time and let the words flow. I’ll worry about what I actually wrote when it’s done.

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I’ll Park Here, Not!

 

I’ll Park Here, Not!

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself,”  said Franklin D. Roosevelt during his 1933 inaugural address. It is obvious to me that he never went on a rollercoaster. 

I have never been a fan of dangerous situations, no matter how safe they appear to be. That is why you will rarely see me at an amusement park. If I’m at one, look for me by the bumper cars at least I can control what they do. 

This opinion has not changed from when I was a child to now. I don’t like the feeling of “this is the end of my life” as an exhilarating, fun experience.

Growing up, the only amusement park we ever went to was Rye’s Playland in the Palisades. Forget big roller coasters, I wouldn’t even go on the Crazy Mouse ride which supposedly was a tamer coaster (no ups and downs). Well, to be honest, I only went on it once. That was enough for me and set me on a path never to do anything with the word coaster in it again. Even today I will only put my hot tea and chocolate cups on placemats not coasters. *Not really.

Next, you have Ferris wheels. Who wants to be on something that can get stuck at the top or worse over the top and have to be airlifted down or have to climb down. You can’t fool me, I’ve seen it in movies. And you all wonder where my wild imagination comes from. 

At Splish Splash, a nearby water park, you’re more likely to see me on the Lazy River than on any of the slides. I’m not a fan of speed, long drops, or being the one person the engineers that built the coasters and slides failed to take into account in their safety designs when they were approved. 

When I was a teacher and went to Six Flags Great Adventure in New Jersey with our Middle School Band. One of my students encouraged me to go on the Log Flume with her. Basically, because she was scared and wanted me to show her it was all right and safe. So being the good role model I said I would. I got in the back of the log and she sat right in front of me. The log flume was deep enough that there were no restraints where you were sitting. As the ride ascended to the peak very slowly, I felt very secure since the student in front of me was so scared that she pressed back into me, becoming my safety restraint. One should never make jokes during one of these rides. At the top of the ride, before it takes off on its downward plunge there’s a brief pause. I suggested to the student that here’s where she could get off if she wanted to, which of course wasn’t true. She leaned forward as if to do that. I told her no, however her forward movement released me from my secure safety restraint feeling. And then of course the ride took over. I vowed never to do that again. My hat flew off on the way down the plunge and followed in our wake as we came to the end, where I picked it up again, glad that it had the sense to jump off my head and was also safe. 

You can call me chicken. You can call me a scaredy-cat. You can call me whatever you want. To end with another famous quote. Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but I can assure you, Roller coasters and the like will never get another chance to hurt me. 

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