Short Story: Deserted Occupant

From the Author: This piece I just wanted to play around with foreshadowing. It is also not a great story, but I just want to keep creating. Breath life into me. Thank you for reading.

The room was empty at first but then there was an occupant. Red was her favorite color and she wore it well, being that she always kept her skin tanned in order to feel alive. Today, was like no other. She came in her red two piece suit, skirt for the bottom, jacket with bouffant shoulders to dazzle them. Dalia’s lips still in a soft smile, was the color red and so was her nails. Her hands looked like she never used them and she also wore shoes she never walked in, but they were brought here from her closet. At this moment she was very sharp, dazzling them even in death. She laid still in her coffin picked out by her sister, it was rose petal pink. If she was alive, she would have loved that too.

“She loved red so much, but isn’t it creepy that she has a smirk on her face?”

Other people began to fill the room with Dalia’s coffin up front, and she is propped for display. Dalia actually wanted to be cremated, but her family “descided” to have a casket display because they just could not bare not having the opportunity to mourn her before her eternal rest. It was all of show and they all knew Dalia will be cremated the following day, as she asked her family to do.

“She was so pretty, wasn’t she?” One mourner said.

“Oh, well you know she was to be married to that handsome fella…” Another mourner whispered.

“Yes, but he had not shown up. Is he coming?” Someone nearby questioned.

“I don’t know, but I heard he left town shortly after…” Yet another mourner muttered.

“Whoa, that’s devastating if he did. They still don’t know what exactly happened.” This mourner said in a hushed tone.

“The autopsy report…I don’t know, something with that. Not certain. It’s not a suicide.” A nearby mourner interjected.

Everyone knew, but did not know at the same exact time. Carriers of misinformation, they all continued to spread it all across the room until the room was filled with chatter and rumors. Uncertainty ruled this event, but one thing was for certain, Delia was dead before her time.

This original blog post was written and copyrighted by Juana M. Gumbs. All rights are reserved by her. (c) 2020

Short Story: The Admittance

From the Author: This is just practice of dialogue sequences. It is also not a great story, but I just want to keep creating. Creating is life to me. Universe says create and I have to bring my art into fruition. Thank you for reading.

“You lie, you did not say that.” D exclaimed.

“Actually, I did.” Tati nodded her head and smiled. “He deserved it. It’s too bad too, because I actually liked him.”

D shuffled in his chair uncomfortably, then he took a long draw on his cigarette, exhaled before he spoke again. “What you mean?”

“About which part? After he told me that women should just sit back and wait for any man to speak first. That was so rude and sexist. You know I have to retaliate!” Tati laughed.

“Nooooo…”, D said, “That is not the part I was referring to, Tati.”

“I liked him. Who cares now? It was disappointing that he had such views,” Tati picked up her coffee mug and sipped carefully. “Besides, we weren’t compatible. As I found out, there aren’t many things we have in common. From the conversations I’ve had with him, there is little interest, but I did like him as a person.”

“I thought you liked him as more of just him being a person,” D expressd, “More like romantically…” His sight was set on her mug with the words “I’ll Owlways Love You”. He smirked.

“What if I told you that I like you.” he smiled It has been two years since they have been friends and throughout the years he has held his emotions towards Tati close. She never seemed to notice that signs. At least, she was never vocal of the etra care and attention he gave on a daily bases. He has done pretty much all that a boyfriend would provide, except…for a few things…

“Really…like in more than just a friend?” Tati’s lowered her eyes, but then she fixed her eyes on D, and slowly, she began to smile.

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.

Ex Erotica (An Adult Themed Short Series : Part 5)

Follow the Short Series, Ex-Erotica by The Thought Renaissance!

Jae Davis's avatarThe Thought Renaissance

It’s the first Thursday of our first ever scheduled week! I’ll just pat myself on the back for that, because I’ve never been good at creating, nor sticking with my own schedule before. But goddamn it…we are making things happen.

Today marks the very first Thoughts and Things Thursday! On this day we will post short stories, poetry, artwork, and absolutely anything else this sexy mind of mine can fart out onto your dinner plate. I hope you’re hungry.

So without further adieu, welcome to Part 5 of the critically acclaimed, Ex Erotica!

Disclaimer…if you’re new to the short series, you can brush up and read…

PART ONE here.

PART TWO here.

PART THREE here.

Or PART FOUR here.

Now let’s get it going.


Forever, that’s how long it had been since he left my apartment. My legs had stopped shaking hours ago. The remnants of my dried nectar, glazed…

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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.

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.

Djehuty the Scribe

Please support this talented writer!

Jae Davis's avatarThe Thought Renaissance

I shower with my earrings in. I’ve been doing dumb shit like that since I was a teenager. I don’t know why. I don’t know what it is about me, but there must be some small print in my warranty that talks about defects and glitches like that. I wouldn’t know though. Who actually reads the warranty?

For instance, I don’t spread peanut butter or jelly with a knife. I prefer a spoon. There has been well-documented instances of me choosing to go hungry rather than using a an UN-SPOON because life gave me the Freudian dilemma of just accepting the hunger pains instead of using a knife like some condiment survivalist. I’m not out to hunt and carve a “pb&j” out of whatever resources I can scrounge together from cabinets, refrigerators, and Wonder Bread bags.

There is a lot about me that most people would consider abnormal. I prefer…

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