Davee Jones's Blog, page 2

Tuesday Tales and Snow Cones in Winter?

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.




A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. This week we share the prompt "snow".  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds.  This will be an excerpt from my brand new yet-to-be-named WIP.

Enjoy!~

Conner rubbed the stubble on his chin, and then ran his hand through his hair. There was something he wasn't telling me, and he just gave it away. "She's fine with this, really."
For as talkative as he was about everything else, he didn’t have much to say about her. Something still wasn't right, but I wasn't sure I should press them. If I pressed him, then that gave him an automatic pass to press me about difficult subjects. I wasn't quite ready to give him that much latitude. We passed by a rodeo ground, and immediately a memory came to mind. "Hey, you remember that year you wanted to become a rodeo cowboy?"
From his profile I saw the side of his mouth turned up into a smile. "I thought I was going to be famous."
"I was only interested in the snow cones and cotton candy. I liked watching it, but I wasn't as fascinated as you were."
"Mom got me a cowboy hat, a pair of cheap spurs, some boots, and a toy gun with holster. I still can't believe she let me enter that contest. Do you remember me trying mutton busting?"
"You lasted longer than I thought you would. But when you hit the ground you really did eat dirt, I could see that from the side."
"Mutton busting failure was clearly enough to discourage my further interests in me becoming a rodeo cowboy." Mutton busting was a sideshow in some rodeos. The event gave children an opportunity to ride a young sheep. Although the sheep didn’t buck, they ran like the wind when a kid was on its’ back, trying to knock the kiddo off. Organizers didn’t allow children to wear spurs, and the animals weren’t injured, just rather annoyed.
Although he was trying to hold on for dear life, that little sheep took him for spin before Conner lost his balance and fell off. Me, along with most everyone else watching, were surprised he didn't break his nose the way his face smacked the ground.
I wondered how many of these things I'd let Ryan try? I still felt like he was made of glass, so fragile he could break. I'll probably get out the safety gear soon as he could walk. "At least you tried. I'm not sure how many crazy stunts like that I’ll let Ryan do. I'd like to wrap them in bubble wrap, keep him safe forever."
"That's the new mom in you talking. I've heard other moms talk that way. It's natural. I think it was my dad more than anything that convinced my mom to let me try the little rodeo event."
"Yeah, but I'm going to be mom and dad, I think that changes things a little bit." Who was going to be that male influence in Ryan's life? I wondered about that all the time.

Tuesday Tales and As the Snow Falls

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.




A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. This week we share the prompt "snow".  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds.  This will be an excerpt from my brand new yet-to-be-named WIP.

Enjoy!~
Snow fell quietly out the window, engaging my rapt attention. Satisfied with my stillness, my baby rested his sleeping head on my bosom. His tiny back lifted only slightly with each minute inhalation.  The soft sound in and out his nose was akin to an emotive breeze, with just enough power to lift the ends of my hair, or stir small leaves. His entire relaxed body sank deeper into my chest the longer he lay in satisfied slumber. And, at that moment, I fully understood unconditional love- not only understood, but, I felt it to my core. Fully aware of the sound and feeling, I studied my heartbeat more intensely than I ever had before. Regardless of how many physical duties my heart had, I realized one of its’ more important functions had everything to do with the butterflies in the stomachkind of love. The kind you remember for a lifetime, and if you’re lucky, can still feel it just as long- even if the object of your affection was forever gone. The kind of love making a mother fiercely protective, yet remained as delicate as a snowflake. The kind of love making a father proud, keeping watch over his private tribe- only wanting the best for them all- and willing to die trying to give it to them. I looked out the window, wishing I could capture some of Mother Nature’s magic. It matters not how many times this infant miracle engaged motherly butterflies throughout my tummy, what mattered at this moment was just how much pure love I felt coursing between he and I. An image of his daddy’s smiling face entered my mind, rising from the memories I’d tried so hard to lock away. Throwing the imaginary key out open windows of fantasy, over and over, I’d only wanted to subdue the pain, saving it for a day when I was strong enough to handle its’ razor sharp reality. But, somehow, his steadfast stubbornness plowed through my carefully laid locks, forcing me to remember my love for him as well. He gave me this gift I now held snuggled into my arms. I loved him unconditionally. I never believed or conceived of such a notion until I held his sleeping son. I desperately tried to think of a time I doubted how much I loved his dad, and proudly couldn’t think of a single moment in time. Even when I was the maddest, I think I loved him the most during the trying times. Funny how parallel love and anger weave in and out of our existence. The strongest of passions collide from either smiles and snarls. Tears of realization fell down my cheeks, silent as the snowflakes and I didn’t try to stop them.

Tuesday Tales and Greasy

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.




A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. This week we share the prompt "greasy".  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds.  This will be an excerpt from my brand new yet-to-be-named WIP.

Enjoy!~

“It’s a bracelet.” Heidi whispered, her head bowed again. “How do you know it’s mine?” I still believe she’s made some horrible mistake. She finally met my gaze again. “I’m trying to do the right thing here.” Her voice raised a little in volume, finding her footing in the conversation at least a slight bit. She rubbed at a smudge on the side of the box. “It must’ve gotten into something greasy during the storm.” She looked at me again, her eyes getting larger. “How do you know it belongs to me?” Something about the dejected look in her expression told me to ease up on this poor girl. My tone softened. “I mean, the storm was so long ago, and so much was tossed all over the countryside.” She answered my question without speaking. Carefully grasping the lid, her fingers drew the hinged top half fully open. “The jewelers name is inside on the top. I took it over there to see if maybe I could get some help tracking down the owner.” Slowly extending her arm forward, the silver toned letters glistened against the white satin fabric covering the inside of the box, coming more fully into view. My heart fell to my feet. Nausea rolled across my abdomen like seasick waves. Inside was a charm bracelet. “Oh…” “Yes, they knew right away who this belonged to. The person at the store told me your husband bought it for you.” Was it possible this visitor didn’t know my story? “My husband…” “Garret Reid, that’s who they said bought it.” Shifting her eyes downward again, she rubbed her nose with a free hand. “I’m so very sorry about what happened. It hurt my heart when I realized who you were.” Now, I was feeling like a true asshole for raking her over the coals. “I, um, thank you.” I still didn’t reach for the box. “I’m ashamed I took a few weeks to bring this over. I was a chicken. I apologize. It’s okay if you’re angry with me. I totally understand.” Her words puffed from her mouth as if she was an asthmatic, unable to enunciate the words. “Oh, now, please, don’t be ashamed. I can’t imagine how you must feel.” Even as I spoke words of encouragement for her, my knees wanted to buckle.

Tuesday Tales - When a Bracelet Causes Havoc

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.





A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. This week we share the prompt "bracelet".  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds.  This will be an excerpt from my brand new yet-to-be-named WIP.

Enjoy!~

Sitting in the living room watching mindless reruns, I contemplated how comforting television scripts actually were. People became involved in what seemed impossible circumstances, yet they always miraculously worked things out. I liked how in roughly twenty-five minutes major life crisis situations resolved themselves and everyone smiled absurdly at the end. This unrealistic montage of catastrophes turned to bright shiny successes, and I craved such fiction in my own life. A doorbell chime jingled me back to my reality. “Mom, are you gonna get that?” I didn’t want to move from my permanent dent in the couch.


The doorbell pealed urgently again. How did a damn doorbell do that- become more incessant with each press of the button? Hell, it’s probably someone just selling wrapping paper or promises to save my soul. I didn’t want either one right now- living on the edge of wrapping paper depletion and eternal damnation felt edgy, feelings I could actually sink my teeth into.

I swear the doorbell emitted a sing song of, “answer meeee, answer meeee.” Third time’s a charm, I could no longer stand it. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” Followed by whispered, “get some motherfucking patience.”
Swinging open the door with more force than necessary, I found a small, meek woman. She definitely didn’t look like the type of behemoth who could make the doorbell- and the house inhabitants- her bitch. But, she did today.
“Can I help you?” I looked around desperately for the no solicitorsign I prayed my mother had posted. I wasn’t in the mood for any lengthy conversations with a stranger, no matter the topic. Why was I looking? My mom welcomes the entire clan of beseeching misfits.
“Hi, I’m Heidi Forrest, I’m sorry to bother you.” Shuffling her feet, Heidi looked down as if inspecting invisible shoe laces.
“I attend church every Sunday at the Methodist church here in town. I really don’t need saving.” Who the hell was I kidding, I hadn’t been to church regularly since that fucking tornado. But, Heidi doesn’t need to know that.
“What, the Methodist church? I’m confused.” Shaking her head, and blinking a few times, Heidi gave me a look of total misunderstanding.
“Never mind, hey, my mom isn’t home, if you’re needing the homeowner.”
“Well, actually, I was looking for someone named, named… Rachel.” The words sputtered out, almost undiscernible.
I finally noticed the tiny gift box she fiddled with between her two small hands. “I’m Rachel.” Even as I uttered the words, I almost wished I hadn’t. I couldn’t take surprises, or wrong turns, in my life right now. Rachel needed a break today.
“This got swept up in that tornado and ended up in our pasture. It landed in a feed trough, of all things.”  Quickly projecting her hands forward, the battered box became more visible.
I finally noticed how dirty the jewelers’ box was, the dirt stains scuffed the sides of worn metallic silver.
“I don’t understand, I’m not familiar with that box.” The roaring in my ears was the sound of my heart beating wildly out of control. Blood rushed to my head, making it ready to explode. No more surprises, no more unexpected reminders. I couldn’t do this. Crossing my arms tightly against my chest, I pressed my hands into my armpits. I wouldn’t take that damn thing into my grasp. No. Fucking. Way.
“It’s a bracelet.” Heidi whispered, her head bowed again.

Tuesday Tales Suddenly

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. This week we share the prompt "suddenly".  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds.  This will be an excerpt from my brand new yet-to-be-named WIP.

Enjoy!~


And, just like that, suddenly I forgot he even existed.
His eyes met mine, when he reached out his hand to steady my feet. “Whoa, are you okay?”
I’d never seen a man try to hide a smile by drawing his bottom lip between his teeth.
“I’ll be fine, just, you know, I tripped on something.” My head spun from that last shot of green apple vodka. What in the name of everything holy did I freaking think green apple vodka was a good idea. When was green apple vodka ever a good idea?
“It’s a flat floor, darlin’. I promise I didn’t stick my boot out and trip you.”
Ah, he offered an out. “Oh, but, I think, I think you did.” Attempting to stand up straight, exuding a defensive stance felt too damn wobbly. I could only hope I looked serious.
“Do you want me to walk you to a chair? Maybe buy you a beer, or even better, some water?” he leaned down a little bit, getting slightly closer to my level of sight.
“Um, no, no, no beer.” My stomach lurched. I clenched my teeth, holding back the flood of cheap booze.

Tuesday Tales Picture Prompt

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.




A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific prompt each week. Most of the time we write to a certain word. Once per month we write to a picture prompt, and limit our entries to 300 words. I chose the sky. You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds.  This will be an excerpt from my new yet-to-be-named WIP.


Behind closed eyes, my mind sees as clearly in the dark as when wrapped within the rays of a sunny day. I see the smile in your eyes you used to have for me. Smoldering desire lurking behind oceans of blue telling me what you want without one word. Those days were reckless with desires, longing, and the excitement of new love.Shifting my thoughts, I recall the slow winding down of your attention for me, the way you finally ceased looking my direction. I became another drain in your day. The images keep slipping away, everything is in fast forward- sliding through so fast I can’t grab onto one to keep it stationary. Damn, just stop, I want to analyze every clip, seeing when you stopped looking at me, stopped really looking at me.  I can’t grab onto you to keep you from moving on, away from me, away from us, away from everything I know as love, as comfort, as home. Of course I can’t sleep. Could you sleep if you knew you wouldn’t hold those hands again so tightly, gripping fingers sliding into each other like a perfect puzzle. Squeezing tighter every so often, to make sure it’s real. That you’re really there, pressed against me, the ragged breathing of slipping into sleep whispering against my ear, letting me know you aren’t feeling the same desperation as I. I wouldn’t want you to feel this way. I wouldn’t wish this aching on anyone, especially someone I loved. Damn, the hardest part of letting go is knowing it’s best for them-regardless of how much it hurts me. Maybe I’m selfless, but, I don’t feel so worthy of admiration.  I remain awake, memorizing each movement against me, so when I’m alone in my bed, I will recall the electricity.

A Star is Born

A Star Is Born – Movie Review

I plan to see this movie again in the theater, dragging along my box of Kleenex, ready for a repeat of the angst, heartbreak, and sheer emotion this movie seems to evoke from audiences. I’m a huge fan of soundtracks and how much music provides the best backdrop for any script. This movie goes above and beyond basic sound mixing to display some of the best original song writing and performing, not only for a film, but, for a record period.
The incredible chemistry between Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga is amazing and sort of awe inspiring. The music these two created captured love broken down into the gritty basics we sometimes ignore in reality. Stripped of pretense, the songs created for Jackson and Ally made me swoon, and listen non-stop to each and every heart touching musical interpretation of the life these two lived onscreen, longing for such devotion in my own relationships.
Bradley’s dedication to become Jackson included some remarkable voice coaching. The vocal changes created the icing on the cake for his character development. The full package of director, seamless transition to Jackson, and support for his vision demonstrates Bradley’s talent as a movie creator powerhouse.
Cooper in Plano, TX, my closeupI’ll admit, in earlier movies such as Wedding Crashers, The Hangover and He’s Just Not That Into You, his salty arrogant characters almost made me dislike him. Crazy, I know. But, emerging in American Sniper and Silver Linings Playbook, the diversity and depth he provided to those roles rapidly changed my opinion of his capacity and skills.  More than a set of piercing blue eyes, his wide-ranging abilities, and commitment to character, pierced my heart more than once.
(Side note, my daughter and I stood outside a theater in Plano, Tx for the premiere of American Sniper. Front and center, she stood poised with her iPad, which Bradley signed on this way into the theater. That moment thrilled my then teenage daughter more than words can say.)
Lady Gaga has been aweing me for years. When she first appeared on the scene mysterious, but, appearing in public in some of the most ridiculous behaviors, I wondered if there was true talent buried under all that raw meat. She possessed much more talent than I ever believed. With each album, she solidly situates herself among some of the best in the field.
Singing the National Anthem during the Super Bowl in 2016, nailing the difficult song with patriotism and dedication, she garnered well deserved attention, probably leading to her selection as the halftime act for the Super Bowl in 2017. An especially difficult political time, Lady Gaga spoke to all in the watching audience during her spectacular halftime performance.
Seemingly becoming more serious, leaving behind the superfluous garish costumes which gave her career a necessary entrance, Lady Gaga continues to impress with her talent, dedication, and diversity. Starring in American Horror Story for two different seasons, Gaga demonstrated seasoned acting skills.
Lady Gaga also gathered attention in a documentary, Gaga: Five Foot Two. Allowing fans a backstage view into her life, at times stripped down and decidedly vulnerable. The documentary also describes health struggles from chronic pain brought on by fibromyalgia.
Gaga breathed life into Ally, an ingenue waiting to be discovered, self-conscious about her looks, but, never giving up hope. Blown away by her rendition of La Vie en rose, Jackson finds his way to the dressing room, determined not to leave without her. I think he fell in love with her right then and there. I know I did.
Sam Elliott’s turn as Jackson’s older brother adds another level of depth to the cast. I don’t think this man can do anything badly. His rugged, yet melodic, voice captivates the ear, especially when he tearfully reveals how much their father really loved Jackson.
Lukas Nelson & Promise of the Real perform as the band behind Jackson Maine. A talented group led by the son of the one and only Willie Nelson.
The grim ending is widely known, preventing some people from seeing this film. I don’t blame them, it’s tough, gutting, and emotionally took a toll on me. Angst riddled my soul for the next several days, creating such a somber mood, I cried at least once a day. Of course, the recent unraveling of my love life probably didn’t help. At least this movie is helping me purge some pent-up sentiments. I felt this movie from start to finish and for several days after.
A Star is Born is a true work of cinematic art from a stealthily committed cast. I plan to watch it over and over again, until it stops making me sad for the final farewell. “I want to look at you one last time.”
Aww, who am I kidding, it’s always gonna be sad.

Tuesday Tales - Green

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.



A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. This week we share the prompt "green".  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds.  This will be an excerpt from my brand new yet-to-be-named WIP.

Enjoy!~

I’m not sure I can step up to be friends with you. As with a precious few ex-loves, either I’d never want to see them again under any circumstance, or parts of me would forever achingly pine. Unfortunately for me, you’re the second situation. Imagining who you see, who you’re holding, who’s making you smile, even laugh- which seemed so rare. It’s tough to make you laugh. Maybe that was on me, I couldn’t bring laughter from your heart. Rolling endless acres of mournful evergreens overcome my soul, making me regret we’d ever met.
No one should ever want to fall in love, this pain isn’t worth it. Rolling the dice, giving someone else control over my happiness was the worst fucking idea I’d ever had. I won’t repeat this mistake. Funny how when we first met, I thought I had the power. I failed to understand my deceiving heart had plans against me. Plotting against me, my lonely heart yearned to beat feverishly again, take a reckless chance, hoping to find its’ mate. I’d been so unsuccessful this far in life, why would this time be any different?
It wasn’t.
When I agreed to meet- as friends- all my defenses stood stoically in place. I could segue our relationship from passionate to platonic. I was ready. I was ready. I was ready.
I was not ready.
Sympathy clouded your eyes, more tumultuous storms than the beautiful calm peaceful waters I used to see. I hugged you, your body stiffened, while you emitted a difficult snicker. I can’t believe you’re so turned off by my touch, god what am I doing here?
Sitting next to you, surrounded by both friends and new acquaintances, playful conversation filled the room with noise, but, all I could hear was the locomotive in my head, churning loudly, drowning out everything else. My leg accidentally moved against yours, I knew because you immediately shifted your thigh away from mine. I’d become something detestable to you. Heartbreak shattered through me again, like glass windows breaking amidst a horrible hurricane. Shards stabbing every available nerve took my breath away. I wanted out of there, but remained frozen, determined to keep my pain inside, away from the knowledge of this room of people. Pity was an unfathomable option- maybe I still had a sliver of pride.

Tuesday Tales a Map of the World...take me away

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.




A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific prompt each week. Most of the time we write to a certain word. This week we write to a picture prompt. I chose a map of the world.   You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds.  This will be an excerpt from my new yet-to-be-named WIP.











 








“I guess you were in that crazy tornado a few days ago?”

“Yes, I made it to our cellar. The twister destroyed our house. There’s pieces of it all over the state.”

“You did the right thing. So, he wasn’t with you, but, he came for you after the storm passed?”

Another one-word sentence I hoped told him everything. “Yes.”

“You were underground with God knows how much stuff piled on top of the cellar. What more could you have done?”  He asked the very question I’d been tripping over since that day. Probing deeper, he confronted me with a challenge. “Will you please think about forgiving yourself?”

The sincere question became a quest without a map, starting in the dark with no light. Impossibility crushed my dreams, any hopes I’d had for the future. “I don’t know I ever can.” My jaw clenched, despair filled my lungs, squeezing out the air- half my world was forever gone. How does he not get it?

“Okay, within a week, my entire world disappeared. Can you all please let me be?”

“You’re in a very bleak place. On one hand, you deserve the right to mourn the loss of Garrett. He was your world, your partner, the one you planned to conquer the world with. But, on the other hand, you have a baby growing inside who already loves you. You are his, or her, entire world. With this little person, your priorities change from your own needs to the baby’s needs. You’ve got to be there one hundred percent, taking all the responsibility of mother and father. It’s not a task for the faint of heart. Not everyone could do it.”

Was this some kind of reverse psychology bullshit? “Thank you Captain Obvious. I thought I had some obscenely huge tumor in my stomach.”

Tuesday Tales and a Picture is Worth 300 Words

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.




A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific prompt each week. Most of the time we write to a certain word. This week we write to a picture prompt. I chose the General Store.   You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds.  This will be an excerpt from my new yet-to-be-named WIP.











 
The old doors begged for a fresh coat of paint for mercy against the elements. Chipping pieces of wood pressed woefully against the glass panes of old windows cushioned inside the decaying frames. How there were no cracks or breaks, I’d never know. Then again, everything was built so much better back in the day. People took loving care using their hands to forge masterpieces using only hand tools and imagination. The tornado even spared this landmark. How ironic my husband wasn’t considered untouchable from Mother Nature, but, a structure was.
Closing my eyes, I shook my head, dumping the negativity out of my brain like unwanted beach sand. I had to stop thinking it was personal. Storms weren’t personal, they were magnificent, sometimes dangerous, elements of the fickle atmosphere we lived in. I couldn’t revel at the snowflakes, if I couldn’t give a tornado its’ own respectful due. Hell, the tornado itself didn’t take the life of dear Garrett, it was the aftermath. And, maybe, some carelessness on his part.
Carelessness…on hispart? Shit. I was horrible.
I wasn’t ready to lay blame on the father of my child. How could I fault him for being dead? Wasn’t that being bitchy, cold-hearted, or judgy?
The old store wasn’t in the line of destruction, it just happened to be a few blocks south. Maybe next time it wouldn’t be so lucky, and would end up spread across four states. Maybe we could build a new city, all underground, away from the whipping destructive gales. Maybe we could all walk around encased in bubble wrap too. Yeah, that was logical.
I felt like that building- standing bravely amidst torrents of rainy emotions, blustery gossip, heated misconceptions, cloudy innuendos, and sunny hopes. The past two years threw more at me than many folks suffer in a lifetime.
I didn’t break, although I bent further than was comfortable more than once. Pretty soon, I could kiss my own ass if people kept challenging me. I giggled at my own joke, and the random thought of trying to lick my elbow too.
Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of selected picture prompts-  Tuesday Tales Main