Saturday, June 28, 2008

Story One: The Girl (3)


Where was she? This place was so dusty, almost like it had been years since someone had been in. She finally stood up and ended up coughing from the dustdevil stirred up by her movement. There was no need to be silent since 'he' knew she was in here. She squeezed past the boxes in front of her. It was like a maze and she didn't want to get physically lost although she felt emotionally lost and physically drained. Her hands were shaking and knees were suffering from the post effects of the adrenaline surge. What were all these boxes? It was too dark to read the labels. With what light there was, she could tell they were piled nearly to the ceiling. She saw light! She pushed herself through the cracks of more boxes. Yes! Light! It was a window. It was so dirty that she couldn't see outside. She tore a dangling remnant of her torn, and now dirty white blouse and tried to clean the window enough to see outside. She was looking at the busy street she had been chased down. Life just went on as normal. No one cared that moments before she was running for her life. Where was he? This man who had chased her, who had torn her blouse?

Friday, June 27, 2008

Story One: The Girl (2)


She could never get a good look at him. He just lingered in shadows, waiting. She first noticed him by a tree in the park where she jogged early in the morning. Then, she noticed that he was there every day. It was a coincidence; at least that is what she kept telling herself. Then she saw him other places. She called the police but they were too busy, besides, he hadn't done anything and she couldn't identify him. She tried to approach him one day, but a woman bumped into her. By the time she got her bearings, he was not to be seen. Although she knew that he was there, somewhere.

There! A door ajar. She pushed it open, closed it behind her and fumbled in the dark to lock it. Exhausted, out of breath, heart pounding out of her chest, sweat pouring down her face, she slid to the dusty floor. He never came to try the door. She never heard anything from the other side. She knew he saw her escape into the cracked door. Her eyes began to focus to the lack of light, her brain began to slow and take in her surroundings. There were boxes piled high, all around her.

Story One: The Girl (1)




The girl raced down the alley, her heart was pounding as she gasped for breath. No time to stop and rest. The man who had been following her for a month had changed his tactics. Up until today, he had kept consistent distance; but today, he closed in--he grabbed at her and caught the sleeve of her blouse as she came out of the grocery store. She, literally, tore away, the sleeve ripping from the seams and down the back as she ran to save her life. Why had he been following her? Why is he now chasing her?






To be continued . . .

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Heat sizzles on the pavement.


Two weeks into retirement (or what used to be the beginning of our summer vacation) have resulted in one week of relaxation and one week of a more traditional vacation: short travel via car, visiting friends, and camping. This year is sooooo different. After ten years of traveling (touring) via tandem (see our website http://www.kamalamak.com/ouradv.html) we are doing things differently this year. The stimulus of the change were two cross-country cyclists who stayed with us in March. In March! Touring during non-heatstroke months made us inquisitive. Could we quit and live on Charley's retirement? So many people worry about money and the worry prevents them from exploring possibilities. If we didn't try, we wouldn't know. How much time do we have left in this world anyway?


We inquired, doors opened, and opened, and opened. No hitches. No wrinkles. Smooth sailing. Read the signs. The signs were green. Money will be tight, but we've been poor before. We have mostly everything now. Wish us luck.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Start


I need to start somewhere. So here I give you naked words to the world. Summer has begun and will not end the usual way this year. No work to return to; life has taken a good turn. Change is welcomed. Little emotions arise to say, 'hurry up, it's almost over,' but I have to keep reminding myself that it will only transition.