Regal

Her battered visage gave evidence she wrestled nearly every one of her days, and all the skirmishes had taken a severe toll. It was unclear the number of future body slams remaining in her slender frame. As she raised her head from focusing on the notebook, she held in her unadorned left hand and gazed at the toddler bouncing toward her with wide open arms and bubbling laughter, all the love her heart contained was apparent in her luminous silver eyes.

Somehow, this willowy woman so chastened by life and its society had managed to contribute material to the making of this child who could grow to be one the world would need and treasure. The future, notoriously reticent, held its tongue, never divulging what it was planning in the intricate pattern it was constructing.

The woman had a secret she rarely revealed, while many no longer recognized the sovereignty of the Lord, she found herself more frequently than ever calling on His grace to extend favor to the darling girl before her. This babe, who was many times over a miracle, had a place, a consequence, a meaning, in the days unfolding like a crumpled, twisted fitted sheet.

Story Start – She Is

She did not like to say life was hard, because she recognized everyone had challenges, problems, struggles. Adding her bit to the misery did not seem right. She ate her consternation, her pain, along with what she collected from others. She tried to sample them only in privacy.

She found herself continuously resorting to prayer as she knew no other way to deal with such a multitude of troubles.

Sitting alone in this blindingly white room on perfectly cornered snowy linen in a gown that was allowing the air to nip at her back and behind, she felt more vulnerable than she liked. Her mind would drift into fear, and she would call it back like a hyperactive unleashed dog. Sometimes it obeyed, and she could bring it to heel, sometimes not.

The battle she faced was not unlike others, where her life was invaded. The trick was always finding a way to continue, overcome, survive. She snatched up her smile, painted it in permanent pigments, trusted her prayers, were continually heard, and chose joy over doubt. She might be weak, her weapons dull, but love was strong and capable. Even something life-threatening could not keep her down.

Seraphina would be okay, whatever befell, she determined to go bravely with a pleasant countenance and a spirit yielded to God.

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© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Short Story: Unexpectedly Gone

Married to an ex-military man who was crawling back from the abyss of a previous divorce with alimony and lots of child-support. His rising star was Maitlyn’s favorite creation. She invested in all the programs to teach him coding and hardware to help him become an expert with networking and computer maintenance.

Her aversion to being away so long from her little one, she swallowed along with her anger over unmercifully long hours and no corporate support. It had to be okay because, for the first time in her life, she was a runaway success with money in excess.

Sometimes she wished there was time for guitar practice, small jams, photoshoots, and writing more than grocery orders and inventory counts. Making a good life for those she loved was a dream, though, and she held it in her hands. No sacrifice, no fulfilling extraordinary demands, one could not expect plans to bring hopes to fruition. Maitlyn knew from experience everything could suddenly crumple like notebook paper and catch afire, burning totally away as if none of it ever existed.

At moments she felt like a mouse on a wire-wheel chasing forever faster to catch a tablet-sized cheese, which was inevitably beyond her reach. She wanted a quiet life where items could be alphabetized and checked off the list, where nothing was impossible, and joy was ever-present.

Climbing the ranks had been a vertical ascension, always giving more, reaching higher. It amazed her, but the shadow, she was consistently aware of how quickly one could fall from the heights.

She had seniority and was vested, but there came a time when she had to manage several weeks short-staffed working fifteen to eighteen hours in a row. She called her supervisor for assistance, he offered none. One night around 3am, she crawled into bed. At 5am when she tried to get up, she no longer connected with the world.

Logan called the district manager, her supervisor, he explained that she was sick and he was taking her to the hospital. The DM said if she failed to come in, she was fired. Logan kept her home and took her to the hospital, where she was admitted for an extended stay.

Sweet dreams often end precariously.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

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Money

“Money is power, freedom, a cushion, the root of all evil; the sum of blessings.” – Carl Sandburg

This happens every time I take on something that stretches my commitment, abilities, and constrains my time. I try to escape, discover avoidance behaviors, and, oh yes, procrastinate. Probably why my situation is such as it is, but we will not go there. No, we are in the second day in my 2020 – 365 Creativity Project, and I found I have no subject on which to write.

The above quote appears in something I am reading, and I turned on Money by Pink Floyd. An inkling of an idea had taken flame, and it was running through the undergrowth. I have been blest with fortunate times in life and less affluent times. I have learned lessons at both extremes. Some were execrable others were glorious.

I think I am going to create a little fable. Hang on, I am more than a poet. Yeah, I know you are shaking your head. Or maybe you can suspend disbelief… thank you.

 

What the Lottery Wrought

Pepper never bought lottery tickets. Her family had awful attitudes around the whole process. Several of them held the opinion that people who played lotto paid the stupid tax.

One day the Mega Millions payout reached $330,000,000. Pepper looked at the money in her checking account, the cash in her wallet, the groceries in the larder, and decided she could buy one ticket without risking total disaster. She had lived there before and had zero desire to circle in that sesspool again.

The store she drove to in her sweltering car had its past winners posted on the window beside the door, shadowed by the metal security bars. She went in, requested a ticket from the gentleman who spoke heavily accented English, and he handed her the machine-generated printout with a wide sparkling smile and the genuine seeming, “Best of luck, big-time winner.” She grinned and said, “Thank you so much, have a great afternoon.”

She drove back to the woods and the trailer, she allowed no one to visit. She put the ticket on the table, and all afternoon and evening she kept walking by and saying fervent prayers that something could change, something good, something lucky. Could luck happen? It would be a first, but lightning did strike on occasion.

When the numbers were pulled on television, she watched the small set with her tongue stuck between her teeth, her nerves itching over her arms, legs, torso, and unmentionable places. As each number matched, she stood and began bouncing up and down and pumping her fists in the air.

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Yeah, now this is off the top of my head, I have no idea how to continue. I have to figure it out. So, we will see what becomes of this in another entry. I mean, if you want.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Bucket and Grass

A Beginning, Maybe, But Oh My

Please understand this is a hypothetical. Creative, original imaginary fiction, but well informed by years of interaction. I did it by hand in my journal, and it needs a continuance, possibly. I am not sure why my hand has gotten a bit spidery, but I am working to get it back better. I am a bit surprised at how the story developed. It is the fruit of one of my all-nighters, with Queen on the stereo, and taking off from a few sources.

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Bet you did not see that one coming. I hope you enjoyed it. I never really know whether anything I do is worthwhile, but I think I might have captured a bit of the tension that arises at times.

Under the MENU button, you will find the follow button. I thank you for sharing your time with me. I hope you will visit again.

Bless you and yours. Try to remember the whole of our existence is about love. Be the love you want to see in the world.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Sunday, August 4, 2019