Category: short stories

The Awakening

Most of her life was in a slumber
But then she saw an angel number
As she began to open her eyes
She started to undeniably realize
That her life had been quite somber

As she became more blissfully aware
Her gifts manifested almost everywhere
First she felt vibrations of crystals
Then visions firing like little pistols
And they got stronger from there

She felt connected to the source of all
And followed the universe’s subtle call
Everything was now great in her life
She got degreed and became a wife
She was great and was having a ball

Then came the dark night of the soul
For a solid year she was dark as coal
She no longer felt presence of the One
It felt as if everything had been undone
As if she was spiraling in a black hole

Then finally she realized the reason
For the dark night’s ugly treason
There were many issues to purge
So that her powers further surge
For that, the dark had to squeeze in

As she realized she was in the dark
She was forced to confront the mark
That mark scarred by her karmic past
But her work was precise and fast
And she once again felt her soul spark

Then she entered into the void stage
Where it’s not quite time to re-engage
Because purging karma requires rest
So that she can rise to be her best
With wisdom and power; a great sage

She then went into the grounding phase
Her gifts and power began to raise
But this time more grounded in reality
Manifestations came in more easily
Her life was no longer filled with haze

Then finally, she came into her purpose
She was no longer anxious of nervous
Walking in the path of her life mission
Unhindered by any external condition
With her energetic body in great surplus

The Nightwalker and the Wolf

Esha, with your flowing brown curls,
You’re one of those vampire girls.
The solid rock that gives support.
Hugs from you don’t fall short.
You’re more precious than pearls.

Your beauty rivals that of Aphrodite.
Your sister thinks you’re quite mighty,
Even if you don’t really see all that.
You got Gryffindor from the sorting hat,
Due to your bravery and loyalty

For your birthday, a poetic fantasy.
One of wolf and vampire valency.
Stories of vampire and wolf abound,
But we shall spin the genre around.
One that ends in spiritual amnesty.

It all started when Jupiter came,
To curse the mortal by full name.
For Atticus Marcus had killed,
And his sins were to be billed.
And only he was truly to blame.

In all his hatred for the facades,
He had stolen from the gods,
And killed innocent people.
In the street and the steeple,
A curse was unanimous by nods.

As Jupiter carried out the curse,
Atticus’ body became perverse.
The man had become a beast,
But he was still alive at least.
Lonely lands he would traverse.

After 300 years, he got another chance,
When he met a vampire from France.
By accident they fell deeply in love.
The night walker became his dove,
As they entered a unholy romance.

For another 500 years they tried,
But couldn’t leave the other’s side.
Each night they would lie together,
Dreading when they cross the nether,
And their existence be nullified.

One day seemingly out of the blue,
Their predicament was given a clue.
Came the prophecy of the soul fire,
A pairing that would become dire,
What night stalker and the wolf do.

The prophecy tells of a great shift.
Two bloods flowing into the rift.
Activating the ancient glyph wards,
To cool the planet going forwards,
And slowing the continental drift.

Fulling the prophecy was the quest,
And they vowed to do their very best.
Years were spent finding the place.
Even using satellites in orbital space,
But eventually they found the nest.

Hidden deep under glacial ice sheets,
They found a sequence that repeats.
They knew they had found the rift,
So they packed up and made swift.
They traveled with a group of elites.

They made their way into the ice cave,
So that all of humanity they could save.
Upon entering the inner corridor,
A sign read “chamber of the sorcerer”.
They saw images of an ancient conclave.

With glyphs in their super human sight,
They move in closer to perform the rite.
As daggers slide across their hands,
They read the ancient commands.
Causing the glyphs to emanate light.

A beam of light shoots into the sky.
The wolf is no longer the bad guy.
As the CO2 is absorbed into the light,
The event is a spectacle of eye sight,
And catches that of Jupiter’s eye.

As global cooling is set in motion,
Jupiter has one hell of a notion,
To release the man from the beast
From his curse he shall be released,
And to a god be given the promotion.

Atticus now redeemed and thus free
Would see the heavens ever so lovely.
With Esha by his purely human side,
In with the gods they will now slide.
Once a beast, now with spiritual amnesty.

The snowball

“Hey Charles, look at this snowball. It’s JUMONGUS!” Terry said to me. (He still calls me by my first name because we haven’t adopted him and his older brother yet). It indeed was a big snowball. Big yes, perhaps for his size, but he definitely embellished slightly.

Now a “JUMONGUS” snowball is one thing, but a “JUMONGUS” snowball in a seven year old’s hands is a different matter entirely. To me, this snowball was just a piece of art meant to be left alone, admired, then left where it was. To him it was a missile, a rocket, a baseball; something that definitely should not be left where it was.

Before I could gather any thoughts, I turn to see what he wants to show me. He shows me his snowball at about 20 mph, to the nose.

Yes it’s was quite funny….to him. Not so much to me. He laughs, stumbles and falls to the ground. We all laugh as I make my own snowball in response. He struggles to get up but soon does, only to get a snowball from me, to his nose, with love of course. This knocks him down on his face into the snow. Of course he gets up crying that it hurt and he was cold.

“See son, don’t throw it if you can’t take it”

My Covid temp check short story of the day.

He ran, jumping old tree remnants that have fallen. Running faster, jumping farther he kept pushing on. He was sure by his next step he would get hit something. Anything could be thrown to hit him and and knock him for his course, and he knew what was chasing him had the ability to throw objects very fast. Getting away was all he could hope to do. Running. Jumping. Dodging…… All came naturally to him and he did them well. Even as far as he’s gone already, he knew he could go on countless times past that. His breathing would be a little more than resting if not for the ever present fear of getting caught or hit.

Running. Jumping. But not dodging. This time his misstep cost him, but only with a slap from a low hanging branch like the ones he would have to pick for his mom when he got in trouble for not picking up his trash in his bedroom. As the little droplets of blood slid down his check he started remembering where he was. There are landmarks everywhere when you’ve played woods your whole life. He couldn’t get to hopeful now but he was almost there.

Just a few more steps and he’s be out of the woods. Home. Safety was there with his mother and father. Both together would save him from this foul situation he has found himself in, on his own accord. It’s true. This was his fault but he’s just a kid and can’t shouldn’t be expect to save him from monsters twice his size.

Yes! Out of the woods. Now across the yard he goes. Feet faster. Breathing heavy. Sweat pouring. Muscles aching. Suddenly pain was all he felt. Severe pain, making his entire left leg hurt. He was hit and he knew it. The force of the impact on his upper hamstring bruised his leg instantly and knocked him to the ground causing countless other pains from the fall. He lay face down in the the grass he knew so well. This was his yard. He almost made it and now it’s over.

As the pain slowly died down, IT stood over him, panting and wheezing. Then it kicked him in the side and said “next time you hit me in the back with something I’m going to whoop your ass and throw you out our bedroom window….punk.”