Weekend Coffee Share: Paint me Strong and Free.

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Welcome to my Weekend Coffee Share, hosted by Allison at Eclectic Ali.

This week, I have seen the past two years of writing and story building come to fruition. I hit publish on the Malachi, Ruse Master paperback last night, and the e-book has been put on pre-order this past week.  This book is an extension of Malachi, and intriguing character from Detours in Time, Book 2, and follows him through his story and his intersection with Milt from the Detours in Time series. Through 4/22, you can get the Malachi, Ruse Master Kindle e-book for just .99 on pre-order here:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086VYJYZX
Today,  I am tired and my arm hurts. I’m surviving, since living in my head suits me fine, and I can’t imagine adjusting well to a regular schedule again. I’m enjoying online teaching and the interaction with the kids who do show up, and I try to find ways to streamline my work.  Today is arm day; it will be long and drawn out at my own pace.
I’m publishing a book but can barely find the focus to write and read these days. I think I’ll just record my thoughts. What do you think? It’s about a girl who escapes painful, difficult situations by flying around the room.
“Come back down here now!”
“No.”
The best, safest state of mind is a mix between reality and imagination. Take what you like of reality and paint it in the colors you would wish to see, like a starry night sky, like me swimming through the cosmos. Take what you don’t like, and paint yourself conquering it.  I wanted to create this scene with play-doh, but it will take a month to arrive from Amazon.  Hmmm, maybe I’ll still do it. 🙂
I have lost nothing in this pandemic but the old routine, and I have gained more time to look inside myself and examine my old habits and coping mechanisms, something that could help me to change for the better.  Or, it could all help me decide to change my surroundings.  This time has led me to embrace myself, thorns and all.  May you all gain something out of this time confined to your homes.  I extend my warmest thoughts to those who are experiencing loss.  I’d also love to hear if you all have ideas coming forward for you with all of your extra time.  I don’t feel I can put them into action yet, but tomorrow could be different!
Our mayor opened the beaches here in North Florida yesterday evening, and I see the crowds of people on the news. I envy them, yet I cringe. I could never forgive myself if I brought home this virus to my 78-year-old mother.  So, I am staying put.  Maybe I’ll walk the dog later.
Have a peaceful week!

The Forest. #poetry

WOLFforest-2056852_1280                                                   “And the forest will echo with laughter.”  -Led Zeppelin lyric

The Forest, (c) 2020 by Pamela Schloesser Canepa

The forest is deep and far and wide

lush with ideas and thoughts

coming at us all at once…

layers and layers of thoughts

The changing path, the creatures on the way

the weather falling down on us

or sunshine guiding our way.

Layers and layers to peel away and discover

or some that we bury and keep covered,

like leaves on a forest floor.

The innocent child goes forth to explore…

The tainted, jaded adult hangs back

Says, “No, we probably shouldn’t.”

Clings to coffee and her wallet,

Poised, tense, ready to self-protect.

Which one wins?

 

Can one just leave the forest untouched?

For it grows inside of the mind,

imagination soars, or holds you behind.

Which one will you choose?

 

*The above photo is a Pixabay photo.

 

 

Maverick. #lightandshadow

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Welcome to the weekend!  How about some speculative flash-fiction to combat the effects of a stressful week?  Thanks for reading!

Maverick, by Pamela Schloesser Canepa

Maverick didn’t like being followed.  Having once been a soldier in the Gulf War, he was always very aware and at times, hyper-alert.

No one knew the beings were here on earth, until Maverick discovered his shadow was not the only one following him.  Who would have suspected that our first alien invasion would be orchestrated by invisible beings?  Pretty much no one but Maverick looked up from their cell phone while walking.

All I know is, one day they were not here, and then one day, they were.  Look for a shadow with no human partner.  It may be following you, or just standing on a corner.  Maverick said these beings probably don’t get much sunlight (or any equivalent) on their home planet.  Do they like the sun?  Who knows.  When you see an unpaired shadow, perhaps it is an alien just standing and soaking up the rays.  Or maybe they are watching you, observing.  Maverick says it’s the latter.

Meanwhile, the government is making cell phones even cheaper, and requiring each family to have one for every person over age six.  They struck a deal with the aliens.  Be aware.

Maverick and I always leave our cell phones at home.  You might want to consider that too.  Be aware!

**This is my entry for the Rag Tag Daily word prompt, shared each day at http://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com

Check them out, follow them, and join the daily writing fun!

**The above photo is my own, taken on an innocent family walk in North Carolina where the beauty of fall is apparent and colorful.  No aliens were harmed in the taking of this photo. 🙂

Lofty thoughts. #RDP

Nature, Landscape, Kaçkars, Mountains

Photo via Pixabay.

“Lofty thoughts” by Pamela Schloesser Canepa

When I was a child, I seemed to have a pleasant ability to lift myself out of my current reality and imagine things that would take me away from boredom or desperation.  It may not totally fit the definition of ‘lofty,’ but this is what I think of when I hear that word.  Some of the later experiences were not all positive as a teen, but I’ll focus on the ones that “lifted me up.” I only remember a few incidents, and I don’t know why.  Are they all that I can remember?  Perhaps they were all related to dreams, and having such a vivid imagination, I of course would see wild things when my subconcsious took control?  I read somewhere that the conscious actually does control the subconscious.  Still, some dreams mean nothing other than giving a vivid picture to some feeling, fear, or hurt that already goes on inside.  That’s what I believe, anyway.

  1. We were on a cross country trip when I was four, maybe five.  It was early morning, and I looked up in the sky to see that the sun was coming out, and the moon was trying desperately to fit itself, squeeze itself,  back into the curtain of darkness that was already fading away on one side of the sky.  It had to try quickly before the sun chased all the darkness away.  I have a feeling I probably dosed off again, because this situation never resolved itself before my eyes.
  2.  I was about eight and attending a summer camp where we tried to get closer to God.  I was falling asleep at bedtime, and some noise woke me up;  it was like I felt myself fall down back down into my body from where I had been floating.  Holy smokes! Did I have the ability to levitate at age eight?  No, it was more likely a vivid imagination, a dream so real I had the sensation of floating up until I awoke out of it.  And no, it wasn’t a near death experience, either.

The image of the sun and moon seemed so real to me, I  did not believe it was a dream.  Some dreams seem so real because they are trying to tell you something, for me, that I was compelled to try to bring things to life with my words. I want to make it as real for you as it seems for me.  I’m still trying, depositing a stone of reality within every flood of fiction.

*You can join the daily prompt fun by following ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com and you can view other entries to this challenge at https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/07/16/rdp-tuesday-lofty/

Escape Hatch. #FridayFictioneers

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Have you ever wanted to get away?  Your stepdad is too bullish, your mom never comes home,  your family just hates you…

Our neighbor, Mr. Stevenson was in our house cleaning the carpet.  He told me to look out at his roof.  “When you see a bluebird on the windowsill, jump to that roof and slide down.  There will be a truck below, no, wait…you will slide into a magical jungle underneath.”

“You’re full of it,” I said, heading out of the room to play video games in the basement.

He shrugged.  “How do you think I keep on smiling?”

~100 words

Find the weekly prompt, instructions, and other prompt entries at: Friday Fictioneers, 7/20/18

Ghosts in the Garden. #amwriting #FridayFictioneers

PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria

Ghosts in the Garden. (c) 2018 by Pamela Schloesser Canepa

“Jimi Hendrix is on the left, and that’s Mother Theresa next to him.”  Grandma arranged a plate of cookies.

“Are these for me?”  her grandson asked hopefully.

“No, silly.  I have to serve them.  How often do I get such prestigious guests?”

He sighed.  “Interesting combination of guests.”  She always had such a great imagination.  It just seemed to be getting wilder every day.

“Indeed it is.  Do you know what they all have in common?”

“What?”

“They love the same brand of peanut butter.” She smiled down at her platter of peanut butter cookies.

**99 words

Ghosts in the Garden is written on this day of miracles, Easter Sunday, in response to the weekly prompt  challenge presented at Rochelle-Wisoff-Fields- Addicted to Purple

Taking in Nature’s Beauty. #writephoto

Photo credit, Sue Vincent.

“Taking in Nature’s Beauty,”  a short story.

(c) 2018 by Pamela Schloesser Canepa

“You have the words to describe it; I struggle with this.  It’s beautiful, though.”  Matt sounded unsure of himself and felt like a heel, remembering she couldn’t describe what she couldn’t see.  Or could she?

They sat on a log, and Pauline felt the breeze change.  Yes, they were in the presence of great beauty.  Only, Pauline could not see it.  Matt didn’t know how to describe it.  She fought against frustration at him, confident she could coax the words out of him.  Asking questions usually got her some clear answers.

“There are mountains,”  Matt began.

“How many Matt?  Two?”

“No, More.”  A man of few words, he was more at home in the world of numbers.

“Are they connected?”

“Yes.  Some of them could be as one, but with more behind them.  The two in fronted are separate, almost as if to let you see the ones beyond them.”

Pauline was forming a picture in her head.  “Is the sun shining at all?”

“Yes, there are a few rays of light, but clouds, too.”

“The sun only shines through in one spot?”

“Oh, no, there are several patches in the clouds letting in light, though they are thick and gray to one side.  It’s lovely.”

“Yes, I felt the clouds, the coolness, coming on.”

“There is a stream, and some trees,” Matt went on.

“What sort of stream?”  she asked.

“Um, just, a stream, no, a lake.”  Matt stopped there.

“Yes, it’s sounds quite lovely.  It feels so lovely,” Pauline mused.  In her head was the most wonderful picture of the scene that she sensed with her being.  It was void of color, for she had never seen color and only imagined it as variations of shading, as on a person’s skin, for she’d had such things described.  Color, to her, was an emotion, such as being on a rollercoaster, tasting a spicy food, or getting a cut on her foot as she had that one time.  It was all so frustrating to her as a child, but she developed an imagination that would fill in the gaps.  When people described beauty, she imagined how it would look, and it pleased her.

“Anything else, Matt?”

“Oh, I don’t know.  It just feels good being here.”  He grabbed her hand.

“Yes, it does.”  She held his hand tighter, needing no more explanation.  They’d gone way ahead of the other members in their group and had a few minutes to sit still and enjoy the scenery, each in their own way.  A hawk flew over, and his call resounded through the valley, carrying another breeze toward them.

~The end~

The #writephoto challenge is a weekly writing challenge based on a new photograph presented at https://scvincent.com and you may visit this week’s challenge at Write Photo Thursday Prompt