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 Reflections and ruminations from a modern day Alice - Life is Wonderland |
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Reflections and ruminations from a modern day Alice - Life is Wonderland  Welcome to the place were I chronicle my own falls down dark holes and adventures chasing white rabbits! Come on In, Take a Bite, You Never Know What You May Find... "Curiouser and curiouser." Alice in Wonderland ** Image ID #1701066 Unavailable **   |
| "Blogging Circle of Friends " DAY 2171: October 29, 2018 Prompt: Work in Progress This is an excerpt from my favorite work in progress, the working title is "Voices in the Water": The man in front of me looked to be sinking a pool of anguish. His body was so weighed down by grief that he seemed to be melting in the soft rain. He clutched a teddy bear made of faded blue gingham with brown button eyes. I tossed aside my fedora and removed my jacket. The rain was light, the drops barely discernible as they fell over my bare shoulders and back. I reached for the bear and pulled in it against my chest, hoping there was enough water. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for the voices. I don’t remember the first time I drowned. My mother refused to speak of it. The trauma from my near demise was so deeply rooted that even the mere mention of the incident would drive her into a fury after which she would retreat into a migraine-fueled gloom for days. Over the years I have managed to gather the details through family members and a handful of reluctant witness who were at that lake on that fateful day. From all accounts, I was raven-haired toddler full of frantic energy playing with my gaggle of older cousins at the water’s edge. Suddenly my mother stood up from her deck chair, perched higher up on the beach, the tall Tom Collins glass slipping from her hand, her pretty features evolving into a mask of sheer terror. She was already running and weeping, already screaming my name before anyone else even realized something was wrong. “Rina!” she screamed, plunging into the cold lake water, her eyes frantically searching the surface for some sign of her baby girl. It was my older cousin Ryan who found me, underwater, about eight yards off shore. My mother dropped to her knees wailing as he laid my limp body on the beach. He gave me mouth to mouth until my breath returned and I vomited ribbons of dark lake water into the sand. I was saved. It wasn’t until much later that I would realize something else had come back with me from the depths. My name is Nerina, named for my great grandmother. It means “water” in Greek. I find it ironic since that summer was the last time we went to the lake. It was the last time my mother ever let me near the water. |
| 30-Day Blogging Challenge Your Prompt for Oct 29th: Start your entry with this sentence: As I looked at the Jack-o-Lantern, it seemed to be looking back at me. Then… As I looked at the Jack-o-Lantern, it seemed to be looking back at me. Then the ground seemed to suddenly shift under my boots and I staggered with the effort not to fall down. A arm shot out and gripped my elbow, steadying me. "Whoa, you okay? Sure that is coffee in that travel mug?" my neighbor Shelly joked, her eyes sparking in the glow of our lanterns. I laughed, and blamed it on my poor choice of footwear. "Only I wear heels to take the kids trick or treating right?" I covered my embarrassment with a big gulp of bitter coffee. I searched the dark lawns for my daughter, running with the pack of neighbor kids. I felt a sharp stab of panic as I located her. They had reached the porch with that creepy Jack-o-lantern. She ran past it without stopping, her fuzzy raccoon tail trailing out behind her. The kids rang the doorbell and chorused their greeting when it swung open, the sudden light from within setting the kids faces ablaze. The old man shuffled forward, a large bowl wrapped in his arms. "Do you know this neighbor?" I asked Shelly, without taking my eyes of the kids. We had moved to town the summer past and we'd only met a handful of neighbors so far. "Yeah, that's Mr. Willis. He lives with his daughter Marcella. Nice girl, bit of a strange bird but she moved in with him after he had a stroke last year." We moved off, keeping pace with the gaggle of kids as they crisscrossed the wide street. I turned back, sneaking another look at the intricately carved pumpkin flickering in the darkness. I noticed a movement in the big bay window, as if someone stepped quickly out of view. The Jack-o-lantern seemed to turn toward my gaze, it was as if I could feel its eye holes boring into my back as I walked up the street. The next morning on the way to school, I deliberately passed by the Willis house. I slowly as much as I could without drawing my daughter's attention. The jack-o-lantern was still there but it had collapsed into a pool of decay. The face had melted in on itself and it was oozing blackened flesh down the steps. Odd. It had looked freshly carved for the trick or treaters last night. As I drove off I registered an uneasiness in my stomach, a sense that last night hadn't merely been spooky jitters inspired by the nocturnal holiday. There was something about that house. I made a mental note to formally introduce myself to the occupants...as soon as they managed to clear that rotted jack-o-lantern off their porch of course. |
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