Power (a short story)

One by one the lights of the city block winked out, the dark coming ever closer.

October 30, 2020

The official word was that the US government was putting in measures to ensure that citizens received protection from energy supply interruptions. However, according to Eddie Rainden, who is the VP of grid integration at NESS (National Energy Supply & Solutions), the government has some power plants that are purposefully generating the power outages.  Rainden theorizes that this is another power move, an attempt to “control the masses” and reduce “voter turnout.”  What says you, dear reader?  Is our government literally trying to keep us in the dark? Let us know in the comments below!

Does the fact that the nationwide power outages, which are ongoing, started merely days from the Presidential election seem coincidental to you or do you think this was a strategic move?

~Melanie Thomason

9/14/2020

He only plays one…

Untouched books crowded his shelves, shiny leather spines and faded first editions, meticulously dusted and never read.  A man in his position had to keep up appearances.  He truly wanted people to think as highly of him as he did of himself.  The bookcases made a fabulous backdrop for his picture to be taken for dust jackets and interviews.  People expected him to be well read and he had, on more than one occasion, stated that he was indeed a voracious reader.  In truth, he was a reader that never cracked a book other than his own.    He needed to be able to answer questions regarding his work after all.

Yes, he was a writer that didn’t write.  He was regarded as a prolific writer though after the fame and acclaim of his first novel he had delegated.  He didn’t have the time or inclination for the tedious process of writing; though he surely had the talent if need be, but he had people for that.  His time was better spent being seen, being heard, being well thought of and sought after.

 

 

~Melanie Thomason

8/31/2020   

Jaime (a short story)

Jaime spent the whole day browsing the antique store and left with just one thing.  He didn’t intend to buy anything really; he was just passing away a few of the dull hours that always seem to make up his days lately.  He’d been isolating himself even before social distancing was a thing and despite himself he just wanted to be in the vicinity of other people.  He walked the aisles, scanning for something, anything to catch his eye.

He looked at antique furniture, oil lamps and the like but he had no place for them as beautiful and interesting as they were.  If things were different, if he had money and a nice house of his own maybe he would invest in nice things that he actually liked as opposed to whatever was least expensive and wouldn’t be missed if he had to leave it behind.  He wandered over to the thrift store side of things and poked about; picking things up at random and putting them back down.  He had no need for a salad spinner or a chipped coffee mug even if it did say, “Introverts Unite, Separately.”

He watched the people come and go and wondered if they were really even there at all.  It as a valid question as his mind did have a habit of playing tricks on him.  At least that’s what he told himself and anyone else who was listening.  That was much easier to accept than the truth.  No one wanted to believe that the actual problem was that Jaime couldn’t tell if the person he was seeing was “real” or a ghost.  He had a hard time distinguishing between the two.  Or maybe they weren’t ghosts at all, maybe they were real… just running in parallel and he could somehow see both time lines. “6 of 1, half a dozen of the other,” thought Jaime. “Crazy is as crazy does.”

He had to focus to keep his thoughts from spinning out of control. So when he spotted the old man, shoulders hunched, shuffling toward the back of the store he decided to observe him and shut everything else out.  He watched as the old man took off his jacket and placed it onto the dirty floor before slowly lowering himself down onto it.  The man sat methodically flipping through the boxes of records stored there only occasionally pausing to give one a more in depth look.  Jaime wonder what it was that caught his eye, what made him turn one over to read the back when others didn’t.  Or was he looking for something in particular?

Jaime watched as the man went through one box after another until after quite some time had passed the man selected one record, sat it aside and then carefully and with much effort, pulled himself up off the floor.  Jaime then watched in disbelief as the old man left without purchasing the record…why spend all that time and then leave empty handed?  His curiosity piqued, Jaime went to see what record the old man had selected after hours of searching to only leave it behind.

He picked it up and couldn’t believe his eyes.  Was this a joke? Some message from beyond? What did it mean?  With his mind reeling Jaime made his way to the register and made his one and only purchase.

 

~Melanie Thomason

7/6/2020

Knock ~NaPoWriMo Day 27

Was that a knock?, or am I hearing things, again?

I swear I might be cracking up

or maybe it is that dastardly bird Poe went on and on about.

Maybe it’s time I make a break for it.

But I know the romance of being on the highway is fiction…

I know things don’t always go smoothly

…at least not for me,

never for me.

I know that there are scary things out there

including the freedom I seek.

“Should I stay or should I go” I once again ask myself

and isn’t that a song?

I know I should go…

but my steel resolve crumples like aluminum foil.

Maybe I am all bluster and bravado after all.

Maybe I can only stomach the outside world in small bites;

a spoonful of indigo sky, a pinch of grass, a sliver of moon.

I shake my head to dispel these thoughts

and soothe myself with a nice hot cup of Earl Grey.

So once again, for today, I am staying

Maybe one day I’ll go

and maybe then I’ll stop hearing this infernal knocking on the door.

 

~Melanie Thomason

4/27/2020

 

FLF

Charly

Everyone breathed easier at the first signs of spring.  But Charly knew that it would make little difference.  Yes, the winter had been brutal but it was the least of their problems.  It was not the weather that kept her up at night.  The cold they could endure but what would they do when they were found? More importantly how far could she go, what would SHE do?

She had leased this place under a fictitious name but she knew that would only slow the inevitable.  True evil would soon be a Charly’s gate and she had to be ready for it.  There was no one else to fight for them.  Her life was in her own hands.  Everywhere she went she kept an eye out for his distinctive gait.  She knew it was unlikely he would approach her in public, it wasn’t his style, but even so she was diligent.

If it were only her life she might give up, stop running cause he was always one step behind them.   She could feel his breath on her neck.  But Charly couldn’t relax, couldn’t let down her guard because it wasn’t just her life on the line and as long as she was alive she swore she would never let him lay one finger on her babies.

Charly fueled up on coffee in preparation for another sleepless night.  With a heavy sigh, she settled into the chair in front of her kid’s room that she had placed facing the one and only door.  The weight of the shotgun across her lap was reassuring.

 

~Melanie Thomason

03/02/2020

1-800-799-7233 1-800-787-3224 (TTY) Highly-trained advocates are available 24/7/365 to talk confidentially with anyone experiencing domestic violence, seeking resources or information, or questioning unhealthy aspects of their relationship.

 

“Screw you, lover boy.”

Image by Walter Bichler from Pixabay

 

◊

“Screw you, lover boy.”

I’ve said it in my head so many times

◊

You break my heart each midnight

& come to mend it again each noon

I’m so sick of the same old song and dance

and you have been given chance after chance

but you refuse to learn a different tune

Now I’ve lost the will and the desire to fight

◊

See, you’ve tied me up and hung yourself

with the very same length of rope

I’m finally standing up for myself

“Forgive you?” This time, it’s a nope!

◊

“Screw you, lover boy.”

You’ve finally crossed my lines

~Melanie Thomason

2/15/2020

 

Momma

The wind cut into his skin

grey skies pressed down

on the rotting town

but at least he was home

Death’s shadow hung heavy here

and the sad picture it painted

suited him just fine

it was better than he deserved

he listened to the storm heave and moan

as his head ached with her memory

“I’m home Momma,

I never should have left you

alone with that mean drunk.”

He laid across the dust covered bed

that still had her favorite quilt on it

He knew he should get washed up

so he didn’t stain it with blood

“I finally stood up to him Momma,

he won’t be hurtin’ nobody else.”

But it was too late, much too late for Momma

 

~Melanie Thomason

1/31/2020

 

 

FLF

Partners

The scroll of the screen continued even after she closed her eyes.  It was exhausting looking for someone who apparently had no desire to be found.  Holly never wanted to see him again but find him she must.  She knew that it was the only way to put an end to this madness once and for all. 

Holly had left him and had every reason to be in hiding so why was he now missing?  She had lived in fear of him and was sure that he would find her…so imagine her surprise when it was the police who came knocking.  Now they were looking at her as a suspect, as if she had done something to him!

Apparently, Jake’s friends and family had painted a very different picture of the relationship, one where Jake was as pure as the driven snow and she was the vile and abusive one. Holly had to give it to him…he had found a new way to hurt her after all.  It was surreal hearing this version of events and Holly couldn’t believe they were ALL lying for him. 

Thank goodness for Detective Anne Sloan, she was the one person who seemed to believe Holly’s side of things.  Together the two women were searching for Jake among the living, while everyone else was looking for a body and proof of a murder.  Holly knew two things for sure: Jake was alive and she was not going to let him get away with this.

 

~Melanie Thomason

01/19/2020