Daily Journal Prompt: December 28, 2016

Prompt: When someone’s heart breaks, so does a piece of our world; this creates fissures, valleys, and even cracks in the pavement.

Tell the story behind the grand canyon.

There has been a myth circulating for generations now; some believe it, and some choose to call it rubbish and cast it to the back burner of their mind while the world emits proof of its truth. This myth states that whenever someone’s heart suffers a break, that the Earth also feels this pain. These heartbreaks create fissures, valleys, and even the cracks in the sidewalk that you are walking on right now.

You see that over there? The people call that the Grand Canyon. It’s quite a tourist attraction, but those who believe the myth know just how much hurt there had to have been to create such a large, although beautiful, natural disaster.

Me? Oh, well I’m the fairy that watches over the heartbreaks and sees what damage they do to the Earth. Every year, there are different consequences on the earth for every broken heart; some being small, such as the cracks in rocks that children see and admire when collecting pebbles from lakes and rivers, and some are large, such as earthquakes and the breaking of cliff edges.

Right, right... Back to the Grand Canyon. Every year I see many people crest the area to bask in the so-called “beauty” of the landscape. I, on the other hand, sigh as I think back to just how this landscape came to be... Nora was her name, and thousands of years ago she suffered what, at that time, could have been the world’s greatest hurt.  

POEM - **Currently Untitled**

            I don't think I could live
           Without your love for me,
 
           It's wonderful what you give,
           And just how lucky I am, you see.

           For not a day goes by that I don't
           Have something to thank you for,

           And among everything about you,
           Here are just some of the things that I adore:

                    I adore the way you look,
           From your head to your toes -
       
                   And that look in your eyes
           That takes away my darkest woes.
 
                   The way that your smile
           Brightens up your entire face,

                    Deep in my heart,
           I know nothing can take its place.

POEM - Love Sent Sara

Love sent Sara

through the darkness

until she came upon light;

Light so bright

that even the beloved sun could not outshine it,

and she could not look away.

Love sent Sara

to a land filled with coal

where she found

gold so divine.

Love sent Sara

through the lonely streets,

wandering aimless and alone...

Until she discovered 

a place so exquisite

that she wished to stay there forevermore.

Love sent Sara

to the depths of Hell, 

where she found 

an angel

who led her way back home again.

Love sent Sara

to the light so bright, 

to the gold so divine,

to the place so exquisite...

Love sent Sara to the angel.

And love sent Sara to you.

By the Time I Get to Phoenix

**NOTE/FOREWORD**

A man has a deep love for his gentle woman, but the vast open roads just keep calling his name.

This story is inspired by the song of the same name by Glen Campbell (Jimmy Webb). I have a great love for this song, and when I listened to it, this story was instantly formed as I was lost inside the lyrics of this loving, but heart breaking ballad.

By the Time I Get to Phoenix

The brisk 4:30 a.m air left my face as I walked through the large door of her apartment building. I slowly ascended the stairs and when I reached the top, stared indecisively at her apartment door, thinking of what I was about to do. I slowly slid the cold, folded paper out of my silk inner-jacket pocket and hung it on her door. I looked at it for a moment before turning on my heels and heading quietly back down the stairs, out the door and to my car. I thought in those moments of going back and ripping that paper from the door, but I knew I had to do this. I got in my car and I slowly pulled away.

By the time I got to Phoenix, the morning sun would have been just kissing her skin as she awoke. She’d have crawled out of bed, brewed herself a cup of her favorite coffee and then she’d have gone to check her mail downstairs. But today she’d open the door to see a folded paper hung from her door, that same folded paper I’d left there just hours before. She’ll read it and she’ll laugh because in that note I say I’m leaving, and she knows I’ve said that so many times before. She’ll just fold it back up and set it on the table, paying no mind to it as she continues on with her day.

She’d have been working as I reached Albuquerque. She would have paid no mind to the fact that she’d hadn’t heard from me all day. She’d work her morning hours then try to phone and give me a call at lunch. But she just heard that phone keep ringing off the wall. She’ll shrug it off and pretend that this doesn’t seem strange.

I entered Oklahoma around midnight and found a gas station to stop for a bite to eat. I looked around at the bags of candy and peanuts, then my eyes caught the sight of a café in the back. It was a small place, just a bar-like counter against the back wall in the corner of the lonely store. Just looking at it made me think of her. The way she looked in her uniform, the way she’d always bring me my plate without even taking my order, she just knew me that well. As I thought about her I thought about how she looked while she slept. She’d have been sleeping then I thought, in her silk sheets. She’d reach over and feel the empty space where my body would have been, and call my name out softly. She’d cry, thinking maybe I meant it this time, maybe I really did leave her. I’ve tried to tell her time and time again that I was leaving. As she looks back now, she never thought I would really go… I bought a small bag of peanuts and, with a tear running from my eye, walked back out to my car and was on my way again.

Daily Journal Prompt: December 26, 2016

Prompt: Write from the perspective of a forgotten or lost toy.

The feeling of the cold floor on my face has become part of me, as I've been here so long. I look around my short field of vision into the room before me and see nothing but stained hardwood floor and a radiator. It's been months since Tommy left me here, and he still hasn't returned. Doesn't he still want me? I was always his favorite toy. Tommy and Roger the Ranger, best of friends.

We were playing one day, and as I was on a mission to rescue an imaginary lass from the depths of under the armchair in Tommy's room, the front door of the house opened. You see, this is a normal happening as Mom gets home around 6:30 every night. However, this time was different. She called to him and he went running, promising to return and finish the mission. I heard his screeches of excitement and wondered what all the commotion was about.

I remember the day Tommy got me. It was Christmas day and he was 5. I had sat in Mom and Dad's closet for weeks, listening to Tommy play and get excited for the upcoming holiday. I was so happy and nervous to finally meet him. The moment he unwrapped me the look on his face said that we'd be friends forever.

Now as I sit here, thrown down in a rush and gathering dust, I wonder just what will become of me. I still hear Tommy go to bed and wake up, and I see him occasionally kneel down to pick up some dropped socks or pencils. But I still wonder just what it was that took my Tommy away from me.

I can hear someone coming up the stairs now... It's him! Maybe he's come to pick me back up, dust me off and finish saving that lass! I knew he couldn't let our long 5 years together end so easily! No, he's talking, on the phone, I think. I can hear him saying things to his friend. He walks in long enough to grab a sweater, and as he leaves the room I can hear him.

"Mom bought me an X-Box"

Eye Contact (Part One)

It had been a long day. I was tired and had just lived through one of the longest, most excruciating shifts down at the bar. I looked down at my liquor stained t-shirt and sticky jeans before exhaling a long sigh and beginning my lonely walk home.

Things weren't going good for me. I thought as I walked down streets of city lights, past happy couples and friends enjoying the nightlife, about how that was something I would never have. Companionship. I've never considered myself much of a people person; I don't speak much to anyone, although I believe that is because I'm hardly given the opportunity for conversation. I'm just Jason, that guy nobody wants to talk to. As I was growing up I had simply learned to accept that fact and move on, although it is hard sometimes.

I turned a corner onto another block in my journey and came face-to-face with an angry old man. The grey in his hair and the creases around his mouth told me that he had seen better days. I could tell from the slur in his voice and the smell of his breath that he was drunk. As he spit out his obscenities at me, standing so close as to be locked in a near-kiss, I could almost taste his cheap beer, cigarettes, and poor dental hygiene.

"Get out of the way, you bum!" his slurred words hit me like a splash of cold water after a night of drinking, "Damned stupid kids," he mumbled after I was a few steps away.

After the day I had just had, this was enough to send me over the edge. The overwhelming sea of loneliness began to tug at my heels until I simply let it pull me in. I walked the rest of the way down the block feeling painfully numb until I reached the last turn before my shitty apartment.

That's when I saw them.

POEM - The Magical Night

During this magical night, 

the moon's kisses are a soft caress

upon the still beauty of the Earth.

We walk,

Our hearts beating in a synchronized tone 

of curiosity and wonder.

The tree's whispers in the moonlight 

dance upon our ears as the dusk transforms 

slowly into darkness...

The ground is silent as your arms find mine, 

and the world around us begins to fade away

as my body calls out for your touch

and your hand wraps itself around mine.

It's warm.

We admire the artwork of the universe 

that is the splash of stars across the Milky Way,

which coat the endless sky like fresh dabs of paint

flicked from a mindful artist's brush.

Closing my eyes, bright fireworks of emotion 

cascade the insides of my eyelids,

and you kiss me, and it all erupts.