SHORT STORY: TWO HATS AND A BALDHEAD

The air conditioning was turned on high in the blue 2019 Nissan Camary as they were flying down the highway. On the radio Mercy Chinwo’s Jesus Loves Me Too Much played to the loudest setting for the volume. All three women, mumbled portions of the song as they were on their journey. Their heads were bobbing to the beat of the song, preparing themselves for the event at the Janis Jesuit Witness of The Bush Burn Episcopalian Church somewhere in Georgia where they would attend a women’s luncheon. Two of the elderly ladies wore hats, and the third was bald headed. The lady that drove the car was hitting the highway at 75 miles per hour all the way, whether the highway signs advised her or not. They wanted to make it before most guests and even more prompt than the pastor. Her heavy foot on the gas had the other ladies clinging to whatever they can in the vehicle to grip themselves for this adventure.

Understanding that they were leaving from Columbia, the capital of South Carolina, to the unknown areas of wherever this church was that they was seeking, they needed to have someone who wasn’t afraid to break the law behind the wheel. Mildred Wainwright Hubble, the driver, couldn’t turn her head this way or that since she wore a church hat that was wide on all sides. It was egg-shell colored with one pastel green sash around the head portion and lace covered it. Truthfully, if it wasn’t for that sash or lace, it would resemble the likes of a sombrero. She used the side view and rare view mirrors every now and again to switch lanes. Her stocking covered feet, overlapped her tight fitted sandals, her fat feet mashing the gas and breaks when needed. She drove as though she was blowing like the wind down I-20. In the passenger seat, sat Michaela Turner, with her head in a low fade and lips pursed into a frown. She never liked hats and took pride in keeping her head as bald as possible since her 40’s after she was told she had a head for it. Katrina Manard Mahalia Jones sat in the back seat, behind Mildred. Katrina’s hat was handmade and she took pride in her hair-hat wearing as much as possible. With every hat she made, a wig was attached to it. Today’s hat had a short bob wig under a small brimmed hat the color of sage green, with a blue sash and a single pink flower.

In the distance, sirens was bellowing. The music was at top pitch and the women was more concerned with arriving early that neither of them noticed the trouble brewing in the rare of the car. In a flash, Mildred caught the lights of the police car in the rare view mirror a mile away and put both fat feet on the brakes! The car screeched for a few feet before it stopped. The cop clocked them a few miles back, but neither of them saw. Too busy bobbing their heads and the music as well as the dastardly driving was distracting. Mildred cussed loudly. As soon as they came to a stop, Mildred told Michaela to take the wheel and say she was driving. Michaela was the oldest…Mildred thought they could play on the sympathy of the officer. Then Mildred scrambled to the back seat to escape and deceive the police officer. Katrina just watched in amazement when the women switched seats. Their seemingly elderly demeanor movements went away and Mildred’s quick jack rabbit jump into the back seat happened in a blink. Michaela on the other hand, struggled to get into the drivers seat. Her slip for her decked out two piece skirt jacket suit almost got caught in the gears while she threw her legs over in the drivers seat to save her friend. Unfortunately, she knew that throughout the years, Mildred has incurred a few speeding tickets and most were unpaid.

The police officer finally came to a halt behind the 2019 Nissan. He wore his classic cop shades, salt and pepper mustache and hat as he strolled up to the ladies vehicle. Michaela rolled down the window, grinning, hoping her winning smile will soften the officer’s heart. She paid for all those teeth.

The officer said, “Good day, ladies.” He looked at each one of them, a frown worn on his lips. Katrina was seemingly nervous. “Ma’am, do you know how fast you were driving?”

Michaela quickly blurted out, “Officeeeeeeeerrrr…we are on the way to a grand event at a church in Georgia. We are trying to get there. I wear glasses, as you can see. I relied on pure faith, not sight.” Her teeth like large chiclets as she grinned away the deception. Katrina in the back seat behind her, just erupted and broke wind from her nervousness. It was loud and stinky, but Michaela maintained eye contact with the officer.

“Ma’am, you were driving at 91 miles per hour in a 70 miles per hour zone!” The officer announced, “That is way over the limit that is allowed and is considered reckless driving.”

“Jesus take the wheel,” Michaela blurted out, feigning faint and clutching invisible pearls at her short neck. “I swear, I had not noticed the speed zone. Is there a solution to this? We were moving with divine purpose, you see officer.”

“Lady, I don’t think Jesus could help you out this situation, but I’m a god fearing man myself. I can pray for your safe passage…after I write you up this here ticket…It will take me a few minutes, though. I can see y’all was in a rush. Y’all could pray until I come back. Where’s your driver’s license and insurance for the car, ma’am?”

All Michaela did was drop her jaw, she couldn’t protest. Mildred put her head down the entire time, not uttering a word, while Katrina was passing gas loudly in the back, excusing herself after each one. The stench rose and muffled them in the car. Michaela quietly rolled down all the windows.

After the officer left them a ticket that all three women would have to put in to pay for, Mildred then told the two ladies she would take to the wheel once again for the remainder of the trip. Michaela said, “No! Nope, now this is on my record, we may not have any more blessings between here and our destination to deal with your hot foot!” She pouted.

Mildred shouted from the back seat, “well, let me at least sit in the passenger seat! Geez and bread! Don’t lecture me now. We almost the same age!”

FROM THE AUTHOR: Just practicing my creative writing. An attempt at humor. My niece and I were taking a trip to Augusta GA when we saw some ladies with two hats and a baldhead and she inspired the name for a story. A close friend of mine provided some plots on the adventure. Please use the comments section to give your thoughts and criticisms on this short story. I write on different genres and haven’t found my niche, yet. Thank you for reading!

SHORT STORY: POUR MY HEART

This was their first valentine’s together and Laurie was careful in choosing every item with precise detail. “Everything in love,” she repeated to herself as she went about purchasing balloons, cupcakes, chocolates and even a jar to put sweet messages to honor him. When she arrived home, Laurie was so ecstatic while putting all the items together and carefully writing a letter to him so that he knows why she invented the “Pour My Heart” jar.

Before he left for work that morning, she quickly slipped into his vehicle to create the display of items. In the passenger seat of the car she put the cupcakes, gift bag with chocolates and all five of the helium balloons. The balloons were an assortment of stars, hearts and one balloon that said “You are Special”. He always let her know as long as they were together that he was not into celebrating holidays, but she wants him to always know that he is loved. One more thing to make the display complete, the “Pour My Heart” jar! She forgot it in the house!

Her love is in the shower when she races into the bedroom and into their walk-in closet to retrieve the jar. As she slipped out the room while he was in the bathroom and she closed the door quietly behind her. Finally, she got to the car and laid the jar on the seat, in front of the cupcakes. Laurie stood back to admire the display on his passenger seat. Then, there was the ringing of a phone somewhere within the car, nearby. She was stunned because her boyfriend’s phone is always on his nightstand near his side of the bed whenever he is in the house. Where was the ringing coming from? She looked around the front seat as well as the passenger seat of the car and could not find a phone. The ringing stopped momentarily, but then started again frantically. She looked in the back seat, then stopped again to listen carefully as to the location where the ringing possibly came from. Laurie checked the compartment between the front seats, nothing. Then she looked in the glove compartment and heard the ringing intensify. There was papers and other objects in there, even a gun. She had not known about a gun that he owned, though suspicious, she did not touch it. While digging around in the compartment she found a pregnancy test and dropped it instantly…when realizing what it was. The phone started to ring again, and this time she saw it. It was a flip phone, black and it flashed furiously as it rang. It felt like five minutes or more before she picked it up, then put it to her ear to listen.

The person on the other line spoke first. It was a woman’s sultry voice that whispered from the phone.

“Greg, I’m so glad I got you. Happy Valentine’s, baby!”

FROM THE AUTHOR: Just practicing my creative writing. Please use the comments section to give your thoughts, criticisms on this short story. I write on different genres and haven’t found my niche, yet. Thank you for reading!

SHORT STORY: SOMETHING ANCIENT

FROM THE AUTHOR: This is a true story, one of my own haunting experience. Practicing my creative writing skills. I have been writing for almost as long as I have been alive, and since I first learned to write a proper paragraph in elementary school. This I create today, comes from my reality but an alternate reality for some. Thank you for reading!

“Come, put on your nightgown. You should never be naked when you sleep.” Mammy whispered while she dressed me and tucked me under my favorite blanket. I never slept without my favorite blanket or pillow. Without my shield and dagger, which those items represented to me as such, I could not fight of the visitors.

“God don’t like nudity,” My mother whispered again, “It should be shame that is felt when you gaze upon your own body, stay covered.” She gently tucked me under the blanket and patted my tummy. “Let us say the lord’s prayer and then Psalm 23.” We both recited the lord’s prayer, chanting it in unison, my voice a pitch higher than her own. While we chanted to the Christian God, I was also saying another prayer in my mind to that same God. Please God, don’t make me be touched and talked to by anything while the night rose. Please keep me safe from harm. I squeezed my eyes tight until tears welled up in the corners of my little child’s eyes, but mammy had not seen the tears. I hid all my horrors, all by myself without anyone to help me, but God.

“Alright, when two or more are gathered, God hears our prayer.” Mammy believed that whole heartedly. I tried to believe it too, my childlike understanding still wished for good and fairytale like adventures, but the night rose to some things that were more…sinister. My mother got up from my bedside, approached my room door. Opened and closed the door behind her and I focused as much as I could on her footsteps leaving me behind, walkine down the hall to her own bedroom. I sighed, very loudly. Not because I was relieved or secure, but because I had to fight again.

Sleep came to creep up on me before I can brace myself for anything else. My mind was set on the task that will surely come, but my body was tired from all the games and playing I did all day. The night was different. Why must I be afraid of the night. What I have learned of night has made me afaid of it. Terrified, really. The window brought light in my room, a steady illumination. It should have been comforting, unfortunately, it was not. As sleep took me and I dreamt away, A lowly black mass began to collect itself near the wall beside my bed. Slowly accumulating, and as it did so the sound that came from this mass was of flesh tearing. Pushing itself forward from whereever it emerged, It began to form a head of the carcus of a bull and it wore the dark sludge that was it’s body as though it was a dress. The darkness of its sludge was darker than the darkest corner in the room, where light could not reach. This entity bore no human attributes, nothing about the thing was of this earth or reality. Mammy would call it a Jumbie. In caribbean culture a Jumbie is a monster or mischieveous spirit. It did not come from a dead person like ghosts. It is believed that jumbies can harm you.

While the Jumbie came to visit for a while, I slept undisturbed. After this horn adorned mass completed its materialization in this plane, it watched me as I slept. Though it had no eyes in that bull skull, it concentrated with intensity, on my small body under my shield, my blanket. To my horror, it was still there when I finally opened my eyes at the dead of night to look upon it. I was startled by this being, but have come accustomed to strange entities visiting me during the night. At first, I could not take my eyes off of it…this bull skull, which with its dark mass below it, seemed like it was floating on its own. In my life, at that time, I have never seen anything that I could describe was like it. I was so shaken with bewilderment, I threw my blanket over my head hoping that it would deter this thing from coming towards me. Perhaps it would leave, because my blanket shield would keep it at bay and it would vanish back to wherever it came. Out aloud, I chanted my secret prayer, over and over again. God would come protect me, that was the idea. How much more protection would I need to be free from this curse!

It still haunts me today. I am still here to tell the story.

#2020

Just some thoughts. A friend of mine inspired me to share these thoughts with my audience on my own blog rather than haunt them with it. *laughing out loud and hard* I tweaked the post just a bit, but the message is still clear. Thanks friend! On my blog, I can share freely. This was my free thinking expression:

Yes, everything starts with the individual. A single person is a universe onto themselves. We do need to confront what prevents us from achieving goals, whether there be excuses or actually admitting to ourselves how much effort do we put into changing ourselves or fates comes into question. Nothing in this universe can prevent us from willing into being something we want achieve, it is ourselves that ultimately get in our own way at times. That is the ultimate truth. We are infinite and unstoppable when we realize we can do everything we think and conjure, but it is the most devastating thing to admit that we failed because we actually was too lazy or scared or hopeless to put things into place to make them happen. I’m willing to do that for myself. You are right about not putting the efforts into holidays or a specific time to work on your vices or goals, but to understand profoundly the reason that nothing comes into being without efforts, could be freeing yourself from all limitations.

What will you do with your power? Let me know in the comments section. I am eager to listen and connect.

Thank you for reading and allowing me to be my best self.

Disclaimer: This inspired by a close friend, who may hate me currently, lol. All photography and original art for this post was created or captured by Hetheru Mer Djehuty. Thank you so much for your support. Please feel free to like, comment, criticize, make suggestions or say “hi”.

This original blog post was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her.

Nightmare: Viscious And Woke

Most of my life, I have been plagued with nightmares. Sometimes daily. This “nightmare” I just woke from an hour ago, but I still feel as though it is not done with me. The fear is so real that even now as I write these bothersome things to the internet, just to rid my mind. So come bare the load for me. I need to take it out of my consciousness and provide someone, at this point anyone that may care, the dark and dreaded corner of my subsciousness that haunts me in wake and sleep.

At first it was a struggle to sleep, since my mind was busy with failure and heartache. I wanted to sleep my worries away, sometimes my dreams can be a more than pleasant reasoning away for the “wake” reality that I step into, sometimes endless. Instead, I chanted a meditation spell and envisioned painting a sun with acrylic paint colors of orange, red, white and yellow. Strangely, I must have finally drifted…because I found myself abruptly waken to darkness. Delivered to the darkness of the room, I groggily sat up in bed and made motions to get out of the bed. The darkness was still there, but it was a dark, dark blue darkness staring back at me. It had no eyes, but it stared right through me as a sat at the edge of my bed. I sat frozen, paralyzed in fear when I realized I wasn’t actually in my room. It was another room, one from my childhood, but the bed I slept in was still the twin sized bed I sleep in every night. And that is when I realized…I’m dreaming…or nightmaring? The dark, dark blue darkness with no eyes, hands or feet, was at the bedroom door, perpendicular to where I now stood in the opposite end of the room. I was terrified. I was so mortified that I held my own throat with both hands, because I couldn’t scream as the dark, dark blue darkness came hurtling at me. Instinctively, I still gripped my throat. “What’s the matter voice, have I lost you.” I heard. It wasn’t from the thing that rushed me, it was from around me. Someone wanted to shut me up. No time for thoughts, because this time, the dark, dark blue was up in my face inspecting me with no eyes and this time I could see it for what it was up close. A monster.

Then, I woke up again. Startled by the nightmare I just had, I jolted awake. My god, that was terrifying and I thought I couldn’t, wouldn’t get out. So, I shook it off, but before I got to sit up in the bed of my dark room, in the dim light of my computer screen was a white egg the size of the Walmart variety egg in the dairy section. The egg was right where my tummy was as I laid on the left side of my body. I only lifted my head from my pillow to look at it in the dimly lit room. I looked around and I was still in my room where I slept. Curious, I propped myself up, still lying on my side to look at this thing that I was sure was not there when I fell asleep. I wouldn’t have an egg in the bed with me. It could break…I reached for the egg to feel it, gingerly. The egg was very white, even in the dark glow of the computer in the room. This is when the realization came that I was in a dream again. Waking from one nightmare into another illusion of my mind. While I held the egg, unconsciously I used the force of my fingers to crush the egg in that one hand and my hand was cut by all the pieces of the eggs shell…though the egg was hard boiled!

Another jolt, sitting up in the bed this time, with my heart racing and my eyes moving to all corners of the room. Still the dark glow of the computer screen. The computer screen had a picture of my sisters and myself, all staring back at me. Stories in their eyes. I caught my breath, comforting myself, which was self taught. I wondered about the dream, what was that about? I got up to go use the bathroom. Looking in the mirror only for a second before I plopped down on the toilet to pee. The relief of the streaming of these life fluids soothed me further. Once complete, wiping myself to then turn to the sink to wash my hands. No soap. Damn. I looked up to see myself in the mirror. To my surprise, there was nothing. No image at all. Just water running from the sink, hot and steaming the bottom portion of the mirror. At first I was so stunned I just stood there… I could feel my eyes widening but couldn’t see them for proof that they were probably bulging in disbelief! My consciousness began to fabricate reasoning at this point, as I panicked. No image in the mirror, oh shit! Outside of my head, at this point, I began palming the mirror, then scraping the mirror with my nails and fingers. Trying to tear through the irrationality that I was not there…I was not there at all. Then, in my panic and horror I started to beat upon the mirror. Pounding on it, but it had not broken, just bending like mirror and plexiglass hybrid. Then, something emerged. Something crawled from the corner of the mirror before me. It was something…something I have never seen in my life, but it was the cross of a slug larvae and spider so massive as though it was almost half my body. Black purple skin and the larvae parts had something withering under its skin. I screamed and sat down on the floor by the sink, out of the view of the mirror. I was shaking and frightened hoping it had not seen that I saw it was coming…oh god. For moments it seemed, I just sat and waited, sat and waited for an eternity. At this point, nothing rushed me or attacked. I got on my knees in front of the sink and peered up at the mirror. The creature was halfway through the mirror…it seemed to be coming from another dimension, a frightening scene as it slowly pushed its way through to my side of the world. It’s spider’s appendages, the pedipalps, were eagerly reaching for me and I fell back on my bottom, then quickly leapt to my feet. My body was up against the bathroom door and as soon as I had an opportunity, I grabed for the door knob, flung the door open and ran, but not before I felt a deep, sharp and painful slice across my back!

Awaken again…this time no jolt, just clear pain. Pain in my heart like the beating of my heart was a ticking bomb. Awaken to pain. Pain in the chest. Before I could open my eyes, I felt my chest. I could not feel my breasts. They were numb…that scared me awake. My eyes fluttered open in deep protest of my body. My mind left me tired even from sleep. What could ease my mind from the horrors? The horrors in sleep and in this reality? This time it was realtime, where you and me are on opposite ends of this computer screen. Me writing, you reading. Hoping you can understand why I needed to share this with you.

Disclaimer: This nightmare crawled out my ear and onto this post by my own doing. All photography and original art for this post was created or captured by Hetheru Mer Djehuty.

This is an original and was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her.

DreamScape: Leave The Lights On

I met him in my dreams…

Suddenly, I was there, in the silence of night with giant trees looming and stretching as shadows on its walls. The house was still, but spoke to me through my subconscious awareness. Through my own eyes, I glided towards the back of the house to the double doors that I remembered from my childhood home, so long ago. Though it was night, only the full moon’s illumination was present to guide me, while the trees on the walls of the house continued to yawn and stretch as a monstrosity, stalking. The concrete rectangle that was a path before the red painted double doors, still had etchings from chalk that displayed a childhood game called *Maryl that we played with boxes drawn and golf balls. There was light in all the windows, protruding through all the louvers of every window in the back of this house. I stopped gliding towards the house abruptly. My limbs as if I was immersed in water, but I was not swimming though.

The lights were bright through the red painted double doors as well as the kitchen window and the window that represented my parents room, the master bedroom. All brightly light, it seems as though the lights were pulsating. In my current state of floating I watched as they made a display of call and response, one shining brighter than another, and they continued to do this for a few moments as I floated about the concrete floor outside. Waiting. Then all the lights ceased and there was one that burned the brightest, the dining room. There was a shadow that slowly materialized as I was finally allowed to float into the house. This family place I called home in what seemed like lifetimes ago. I visit on occasion, but only in dream as though when I occupied the space as a child, it was a dream then.

The dining room was the brightest I have ever seen it, in life and in dream. It seemed as the though the light emanated from the walls and roof of the room, and it burned my eyes at first, but then my eyes adjusted to the illumination as I entered. I was not alone in the room, they was another with me. It was him, my lover and friend, standing near the back wall of the room. He has never been here before, but this is the brightest I have ever seen this house. When he realized it was me, he reached up to take hold of me by my waist, tearing me from my floating state of being. His touch became real to us both, it seems. I wish he was sleeping next to me right now. Consciously, outside the realm of dream, I felt my hands grab hold of the sheets next to me, with fists curled tightly around them, I pull them near. We were both relieved to see each other. He was wearing the same clothes from earlier and I was wearing a chiffon night gown my subconscious dreamed up and we held each other forever…

The illumination, which I still was curious as to where it came from. Did it come from him? My mind eased, taking this scene as my current reality, I felt so elated to be with him, taking him now, where I go as I sleep. I can have him in both worlds and relish in our playful banter and whimsical adventures together, lost in timelessness…

*Maryl a game played in the Caribbean during my childhood. Square boxes would be drawn with chalk on concrete and players would take turns, rolling the golf balls and catch them in the drawn boxes.

Disclaimer: this dreamscape was created by my subconscious mind and cannot be replicated. All photography and original art for this post was created or captured by Hetheru Mer Djehuty. Thank you so much for your support. Please feel free to like, comment, criticize, make suggestions or say “hi”.

This is an original work imagined, written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her.

Brief Narrative: DRUNK TEXTING…

After a long day at work on a Saturday…what a way to whine down than to take a sip of something that makes you lose yourself for a time. For a time, the thought was not there to drink…for drinking sake. Just a little sip, that makes you open up but while you are musing you decide to text your lover. Then, you find yourself uninhibited and professing things. Sure, you are trying to keep your senses about you, but with more sipping and clicking…well. Things go down a path unintended…maybe, you sent some pictures that were not intended to be seen by a living been, but it happened. The evidence is on the phone and well, on his phone too. Maybe, maybe I didn’t press send. I began to lose my senses and the absence of time, ever present as my head seems like it’s bobbing in a bucket of water, or liquor?

I exhale, and inhale, putting another sip of the drink to my lips. A margarita in a bottle…eight percent alcohol, but potent to my system. My tolerance for the drink is low. My body already giving response to it. I continue to text my boyfriend. Some things I write…well, I had not thought about what his response would be for some of it. My intentions was to be sexy, wooing…but not sure how it landed on his side of the phone.

BRIEF NARRATIVE: UGH…MOMENT. (Writing In The Raw)

Pulling a trigger quickly, tapping the enter button to add the latest update on my blog. Eagerly, I make adjustments because I made last minute plans to go to The Vitamin Shoppe because I realized I haven’t eaten all day and the need for sustenance just registered to my brain. This sent signals to my tummy which moaned, woefully. The day was long and troublesome, eating was not an immediate concern, at the time.

So the blog was updated and I jumped into my stealtoe boots and ran out the house with a bag of garbage. Well, the bag of garbage was not going to the store with me, it was taken out…to an even larger trash can at the side of the house. I darted to the trash cans and fought off multiple critters and flying insects I could not immediately identify. Deposited the trash quickly without getting in nature’s way.

Finally, I got in the car and drove to The Vitamin Shoppe on Two Notch Road. For a Tueesday evening, the road was buzzing with cars. I prompted myself to stay conscious most of my drive there and noticed the brands of cars that jetted by me, going to nowhere most likely, because Two Notch Road is littered with traffic lights. You stop every half a mile or less.

I was ecstatic to arrive at The Vitamin Shoppe, it is like a health conscious individuals paradise. I was was there mostly, because my brain was actually egging me on to stop at the near by Sam’s Club and get a frozen yogurt instead and call it a night. But no, I had to do what was best for my body and purchase a powdered protein shake in order to take away from the guilt of not feeding my body while my mind was preoccupied with other frivolous things. Those frivolous things caused a aweful lot of bawling and snot and drool….bodily fluids to be fluid just before I finished that last blog. embarrassing

A dashing young man came through with a cart, not to shop with, but I assume he used it for the store since he worked there at the Vitamin Shoppe. I hope he never reads this blog, because he would laugh. So, I’m eye-balling the protein shake powders, reading about what they have, how much protein and all the million things they have in them, that I may desire. At one point, I saw a product and asked “what other pea protein products do you have, ” and he replied, “It has this product, see there is pea protein in the ingredients…” Duh. I knew I could look and see, but do you, young man know? Anyway, I moved on and perused some more. Couldn’t figure if I wanted the caffeinated vegan protein powders or the blasted regular vanilla or chocolate. Blah!

When I get to the cash register, he asked for my number so that they can find my account and I asked if I had gotten enough points to get a five dollar discount. I didn’t. I didn’t have enough points. As he was ringing up my items, I remembered I wanted another blending bottle to put my shake in. The store assistant stopped and showed me to the aisle with the blending bottle and their various uses. I picked one, but then he showed me one with a swirvel stick on the inside and I was like, “BINGO”. Ran back to the register, he’s ringing up my bottle then I see the ginger gum I wanted to try with my boyfriend. Other times, I would see it after I already paid and never bought it. This time…I was right on the money. I even asked the store assistant if they taste good. he said, “Some people like the cinnamon.” Ewwwwww…Ginger gum it is!

After I got my items, I jumped in the car. Drove around to the traffic light to go towards home when I discovered that I had dried snot and cold around my nose the entire time I was in the store. The store attendant propable was wondering “what is she on?” I cackled like a loon bird realizing that I was talking to someone face to face with dried cold on my face and they didn’t laugh at me…outright.

The End.

Disclaimer: I just wrote this on the fly. If there are any grammatical errors, they are made on purpose. That is what I mean when I say “writing in the raw.” Raw emotions, sentences may not be full sentences…things of that nature. Writing for fun! All photography posted on my blog is original artwork and photos taken by Juana M. Gumbs. Thank you so much for your support. Please comment, criticize, make suggestions or say “hi”.

This is an original work of an actual journal entry of mine and is copyrighted in 2019 by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her.

VERSE: Pain, Flowers & Honey

06/18/2019 journal in prose of my day…to encourage myself and anyone else who has loved hard and have had their heart broken. There is hope that someone can love us just as hard for as long as we live. (Featured photo is of me when I was 11 months old.)

I’m beginning to feel that pain and love

Are the same emotions

Because to sometimes have one

Love

Is to sometimes have the other

Pain

Both hold hands and play but can be joined

Inspiration and epiphany

Anger

Extreme bliss

Hurt

Transparency and openness

Regret

Loss

HOPE

The only way to cope

When that person has powers to maim

The worst is that their intentions was not to aim

Yet still, they leave the subject of their love to blame

I have only truly had a broken heart 3 times

From that same individual of all my affections

Those 3 wounds

Have me displaced and ghosted my heart

Left in a state of wandering

Faced with the task to recover

My strength notwithstanding

I will survive the blows that have befallen me

Because there is someone out here in this desert

That can appreciate the flower that I offer

Deeming themselves worthy of my perpetual attentions

Honey intentions without a regret or resent

Journal: A WRITER’S NEMESIS – WRITER’S BLOCK “Help”

I must apologize for my lack of content lately. Somehow, I have been hit with “The Wall” or some may call it, the writer’s block. My writer’s block manifests itself in two ways, I have noticed. One, I will write a story and it would be so good and juicy with content and flow. So good, I’d lick my lips and eagerly type every line and then…thought lost. Nothing. I can’t finish the story for some odd reason because it feels like my thoughts has fallen off a deep dark cliff. That is one instance of my writer’s block. The second instance is that I can’t think of anything to begin with, body content or even an ending. This is frustrating and I would applaud any writer that can tell me confidently that they have created or found a cure for such a thing that plagues writers. The writer’s block…it is an author killer, is it?

Currently, I do have a few projects that I am working on, mainly subjects in folklore and childhood actual events. Please bare with me.

Please let me know if you have any cure or know of one from a friend for this frustrating condition. Can anyone relate? I need HELP.

Thank you. Stuggling Author. Hetheru Mer Djehuty