SHORT STORY: NOCTURNA TOUCH

The mundane ringing of the door alerted the store keeper, Travis, to the presence of another customer. It has been a long day, with few curious folks entering and exiting without purchases. Perhaps he may be lucky this time, so he perked up and offered salutations to them.

“Hi there, look around and let me know if you need assistance,” he uttered the same script as he did for anyone that crossed that threshold. At first he thought it was genuine, but time has made it habit.

“Okay,” they would usually reply. This time there was no response, just a nod of the head from a woman with wide almond eyes, heart-shaped face and black bangs with a ponytail. She had not looked at him, just nodded while she looked at the first product near the door. This made him curious, because it was the dildo section. It would be a lot to say that this was not the type of store most women would come to alone to peruse through sex toys and novelties. In his experience, most women would come with a man or other femailes. It wasn’t always the case. He looked from his booth, follwing her with his questioning eyes. Something about her…her stark ivory colored skin, in contrast to her obsidian hued hair brightedned up the room even in the dull lighting. The features of her face he analyzed, starting with her cheekbones, high and youthful. She carried herself in a way whereas she seemed older…but he was not sure. Observing her clothing, he noticed she wore all black, even her stockings, black fishnets. Finally she made her way to him after looking at the bedroom candies and handcuffs.

“So, what do you think,” this Aphrodite spoke to him for the first time. The lilt in her words offered that she may be foreign.

Travis mouth was caught open for a bit, being that he was taken by surprise and roused from his thoughts of her as she turned her attention on him. Unknowingly, she was the best thing he saw all day, probably all week at this business. Even as he closed his mouth, he had no words for her in that moment. Before he could blink, she was in the booth with him. She closed the door and now she was in his world walking toward him before he could think to refuse. To his surprise, she held his face before he could protest or even react, and kissed him so deeply, that every hair on his body rose electtrified around him. It scared him a little at first and then he became compliant, soft limbs except for one. His pants bulged and she welcomed him into both her hands, caressing. Taking in his hurried breaths, then low moans, he even almost closed his eyes because the escatasy was all encompassing. At this point he wanted to know more of these emotions, this higher vibe provided in her delicate hands, stroking and cuddling. Before he knew it, she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants through her power. Her will be done, the obsidian haired maven, alluringly licked the palm of her hand and massaged him as he was ripe and extended. Travis gasped then sighed as he felt the wetness against him. That feeling was everything and his head felt as though it was going to pop. The only thing that kept bringing him back to awareness was that he remembered that anyone can just walk in at any moment. That thought made him more eager, anticipating the next sensation, the waves of delight was out of this reality. While he knocked his head back as the electricity coursed through his back from her hand job, he gave into her wildness. In a swift movement, she was on her kneess and he looked down at her charcoal hair in that high ponytail and she grinned up at him at first, then burried her head in his lap.

“Why,” he spoke softly, “It…” He couldn’t finish his words only fell off a cliff as she performed this art. He closed his eyes and she sucked and wet his tender head, so he thrusted his hips as a response. The lights behind his eyes, they flickered and danced while he slipped into this mist she took him into. Instantly he thought of holding her ponytail to get a better hold of her pacing. Just as he thought so, he found that his hands made the movements as quick as his thoughts.

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.

Transcendence Hymn

Delivering our steller selves

birthing as RA rise

Pure, with slate wiped clean to pristine satisfaction

we venture out

no rope

but hope prevails still

Still lingering on throughout the daybreak

wake

Finally we set

set down like the sun

Casting shadows as pyramids

seeding our spirit to reap rise

Breaking spells and curses

Chanting good omens

Foreshadowing what will be as we claim fortitude

To withstand everything funneling around us

Singing loud

Our daily offering

Our souls transcendence hymn

Disclaimer: 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.

#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.

POEM: Spiked Collar and Stilettos

Pull out the handcuffs tonight

spiked collar and stilettos

Fingers tracing lips and bottoms for hours

And we only been here for a minute

While we embracing, teal colored nails

Grazing your arms and shoulders

Cheeks makes your hands happy when they in them

I feel the intention to climb you

Divine you

Spiked collar, tight for you

Allowing the night with you

To make me loose

To lose our minds

When we make all these sins

My stilettos in the air

You lifting me to heights

Higher than the ceiling

I’m begging you

While you relieve me of everything

And everything is releasing

My knees by my shoulders

While you between them

losing yourself in my flesh

Taking all my moans

As we shiver in explosions

Disclaimer: This poem just came from within my inner depths. 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 poem dreamed up, written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her.

Short Story: Black Hearts Depart

Within the last dark hours before departure, Melvin Vantamore stared through the large living room window reminiscing about the events of the night before. In the background the wall clock kept it’s ticks and tock to a minimum, but the crackling of the logs in the fireplace would often snap Melvin out of his dream state. As he stared at nothing in particular outside, he questioned everything that happened between himself and Natalia. She said that this was the last time they were to see each other in secret. Hearing her repeat this sentence in his mind made him light headed. He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes slowly. Breathing in and out deliberately to calm and soothe himself.

Melvin played out the first time he met Natalia in his head. His eyes traced over every aspect of her physique, noting the way she moved her hands when she talked, observing her nose crinkled while she laughed at his dark humor. He couldn’t recall anyone that fond of him. Usually, he was not very social to approach someone, especially a woman, to engage in casual banter. For some reason, Natalia was very alluring. He hair in one swoop of a ponytail. Every now and again, her hair would sometimes fall near her almond shaped eyes, laden with a deep black mascara. During their engagements, after a while, he would find himself just listening to her speak so that he could take in all of her beauty. Her cheekbones high and soft, the fingers slender with the tips of her fingers manicured and nails clipped low. Her teeth were so white and straight, he would then follow the corners of her lips as they curled into a smile. Everything was breathtaking and pleased his senses as he stood at attention to all of her words she spoke. But some things bothered him.

The crackling in the fireplace snapped him out of the memory. He moved from the window. It was dark in the house that he lived in with his wife and two children. They have been gone for some time now. Their photos still on the mantle above the fireplace. He would glance at the photos every now and again. They were so far gone now, he would not be able to reach them. Melvin made his way into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator to see if he can nibble on something, but his stomach was so weak. Instead he just sat at the dining room table, pulling at his nail cuticles until they bled.

The dining room was ghastly silent, as he sat there susceptible to the darkness of his own mind and went into memories of Natalia again. He was obsessed with her energy and wanted to be in her presense again, but the darkness kept reminding him of yesterday’s events. First, there was the phone call in the morning. She told Melvin that there was something they needed to discuss and she wanted to be certain that they were still meeting at the café. He obliged her request, wanting to know where she has been for the past week since he had not heard from her for some time. Insanity set in after three days of no phone calls, texts in response to him. On the fourth day, he sent a text to her as his desparate moment to get through to her. The text read, “Please, I need to hear from you. I don’t know what to do without you.” After three hours, he texted her again. “I’m looking at a bottle of pills right now, wondering if I should empty its contents in my body.” Instantly, Natalia replied. ” Please, please don’t do anything to hurt yourself.” He smirked a little.

He got up from the dining table now, to stand and walk towards the living room and walked up the stairs. She was not coming. He remembered stroking her throat and staring in her eyes as they pleaded silently. No words could escape her as Melvin tightened his grip. “You will never leave me…” He managed to say through his teeth, “Do you understand, Nat”. In a gasp, she managed to say yes. Her eyes were wide with fear and tears rolled down her face, he beautiful face that he cherished when he first saw her. He let go of her, abruptly, and watched as she stabilized herself after the assault. She was on her knees on the living room floor, gasping and crying. He stood there for which felt like an eternity, no emotion on his face. “Nat, you are breaking my heart. Stop breaking my heart!” Defeated, Natalia used the coffee table to bring herself to stand before him. She said nothing as she held her own throat and wiped her tears.

Melvin found himself in the master bedroom of his three bedroom house. He made love to her in here. It was the most beautiful thing he has ever done, he thought. Natalia’s moans and gasps of pleasure reverberated in his mind. He wanted to live in that moment again. Her hair falling over her breasts and she rode him. He would reach up and hold her waist and breasts. He would climb on top of her and make her climax over and over again. She would orgasm under him and he would stare at her pleasure, then he would bury his head between her neck to suck and kiss that slender neck of hers. He now found himself standing in this empty cold room. He walked around to the left side of the bed to open the safe that held important things. His passport, birth certificate his nine millimeter and the box of ammo when it was necessary. After this long day, haunted by the insanity that she had left him, he reached in to grab the gun and bullets.

Disclaimer: This short story came as an inspiration of the poem I just submitted. 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 story was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her.

POEM: Black Hearts Depart

Longing

Alluring in its desired quality

Though insanity runs it

Claiming its purity

to devour, squeeze all wholesomeness

As though it was a tattered rag

When all semblance of hope is lost

Black heart emerges

Disturbing, pausing to give weight to

As it begins to corrupt all beauty

Rendering it naked

Then proceed to whiter

Emaciate

Break

Defeated

Disclaimer: This poem just came from within my depths. 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 poem dreamed up, written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her.

Poem: First Love

First love sweet bliss

Pure but ripe to pick

That someone to love

First love

That one from many

Which love calls to you

No one else can replace a sweet romance

It has always been all about our love

And words expressed

With “I love you” in depth

But as the clouds darken

I remember those rainy days

Though I still believe our love would prevail

In time

The water runs dry

And leaves me

My entire being would cry for you

To un-break my heart

I used to love him

I used to care

And as 10 years past

My heart still sore

Bruised

Yet yearning

In due course

My love soothed and heals

As he spoke two words

“I apologize”

Disclaimer: this poem was created from the universe within me. All photography and original art 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 poem imagined, written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her.

Poem: The Cosmic Laughter

What food GOOD THOUGHTS are?

You, my livewire to the universe

The light within you a BURNING STAR

And I connected infinitely there in

Time non-existent where we are

SHARING KNOWLEDGE

Wisdoms we live

Good food

We feed

THOUGHT

INTO

WORDS

Into

Life

Breathing within just

Galaxies light years from

Our physical limitations

So we meet in its center

In mediation

The only heaven

Where WE can INDULGE

IN COSMIC LAUGHTER

Disclaimer: this poem was created from the universe within me. 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 poem imagined, written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her.