Tumblr Story - Blog Posts

As I was driving home through the forest recently, ahead of me I saw an old pickup truck pull over onto the shoulder and put its hazard lights on. A young woman wearing handmade clothing jumped out of the truck and ran 200 feet back up the road. As I passed, I saw her scoop up a newt she'd seen crossing the road, and carry it into the forest, before running back to her truck.

This made me smile, but the redneck behind me was outraged. "Damn hippies! Bleeding heart liberal treehuggers... only on Chauncy's Island... Friggin' oughta be a law... stoppin' for a damn lizard. What about the other cars?"

I looked him in the eyes and said, quietly but firmly, "You're new around here, aren't you?"

"I been here seven whole years, so, no, I'm not new," the redneck said. "What's it to you, anyway?"

I've been here 30 years, but I didn't mention that. I just said to him, "Seven whole years you've been here, and you still act like you're brand new. That's a shame."

And everyone else laughed and clapped as the redneck drove away without saying anything more.

She was just a mere photograph

In black and white

Only 17 and not a clue in life

He two years older

He showed her colours like gold and white

So she explored them with him

But she was gullible and blind

Trouble tied to his name

Little did she know he was just in it for the game

She had beauty and grace

But this wasn’t his first rodeo race

Lacking in self love

She thought she’d find in him

Ignoring flags of red

Because love isn’t a sin

Soon to learn the cold hard truth

That love is not always as it seems

He had a plan all along

To leave her crying on her knees

Asleep in the night

Oblivious he was gone

One shot from a gun

One cruel hit and run

He took all the money he could possibly carry from the store

Before placing the gun next to her

He wiped his fingerprints off

She wakes with fear in her eyes

To sounds of sirens and flashing lights

She wasn’t the first to pay for his mistakes

Because after all

This wasn’t his first rodeo race

-tamara-catherine

Past lives flicker through my mind, as I stand gazing up at the moon. The night's pretty much silent, except for the slow rumbling of thunder in the distance. Every now and then, a cool breeze goes past me. I stand in the moonlight, waiting for a miracle.

You said you'd meet me here, under this old tree covered in moss. It's almost dawn now, and still no sign of you. I have second thoughts, debating whether to turn around and go. Maybe you meant it as a joke.

Afterall, gods never fall for beings beneath them.

Sighing quietly, I start walking back to my home. It was a waste of time, I realise now. I should've never trusted your words.

I pass the lavender patch, and a familiar fragrance hits me. Smiling at the full blooms around me, I sit down on the damp earth and close my eyes. The smell of lavender takes me back to my favourite memory. You sitting beside me as I laugh at your joke.

I open my eyes and find that my vision has blurred. I hate crying but that's all I wanna do right now. Feeling like stones sinking in my stomach, I lay my head in the ground and weep.

The night has become a tired dream, and the stars have gone and hid.

But when you slowly started wiping my tears away, I felt like the world was holding its breath. I sit up and lock eyes with you.

"I thought you wouldn't come" I said in a barely there whisper.

"I wanted to make sure that you were serious about this. About us." You replied in an equally quiet whisper.

"So you were testing me? " I ask with fresh tears in my eyes.

"Not really. More like I was testing myself. And I failed. When the first tear ran down your face, it felt like I was stabbed here." You take my hands and place it over your heart.

And surprisingly enough I felt it beat.

And that hasn't happened in a long time.

© Moonyloonywitch

26/08/2021

I was a child of the desert from a very young age, even though now I am more closer to the sea. This was inspired by my many trips to deserts during my childhood, and of course Paulo Coelho's Alchemist.

Deserts have always seemed magical to me. Their golden sunsets and brilliant night skies have kept me in awe forever. It's almost like having a universe and space right here on this Earth.

(ps : Sahara simply means desert in Arabic. I came up with the part about moon just for the story. )