WEP Submission, April 19, 2017, The If of Peace and Love by Pat Garcia

 

 

A PEACE AND LOVE

 

 

 

 

 

Silkworms April 18 2017

 The If of Peace and Love by Pat Garcia

 

If silkworms could grow peacefully,

Silk would fill the whole earth.

 

If the larvae of butterflies could choose,

Then, they would hatch on green leaves,

And grow in their brilliance.

 

Whatever happened to the vision of hope?

The gift of faith,

The coadunation found in peace and love,

The ideology of humans understanding humans,

The sacredness of respect.

 

The silkworms can’t spread,

Humans need silk scarves,

Silkworms multiply in glass houses for production.

 

Larvae grow into caterpillars,

But are trampled under feet

By people who walk, run, and drive

Ignorant of nature’s beauty.

 

Whatever happened to the vision of hope?

The gift of faith,

The coadunation found in peace and love,

The ideology of humans understanding humans,

The sacredness of respect.

 

I know, said the silkworms

Enclosed within their prison gates,

While another bunch of larvae mashes beneath hurried feet,

Or squishes under rubber tires.

 

The vision of hope is long obliterated,

Said the silkworms.

 

No, said the butterflies,

It is the loss of faith,

 Annihilated.

 

No, said the silkworms,

The ideology of understanding has turned into variables shades of gray.

 

Yes, said the butterflies, we agree.

The coadunation found in peace and love cocooned in faith,

Is no longer the sum total of the sacredness of respect.

 

 

 

Shalom aleichem,

Pat Garcia August 13 2016

Pat Garcia

 

 


The Box in the Loft by Pat Garcia

February BadgeWC: 827

 

 

The loft wasn't supposed to be a storage room for Giovanni’s things. It just evolved into one. Each anniversary, she would pack away his summer things, and they celebrated one more year of them, together, one loving one, them, loving them. He would laugh at her.

“All things are temporal, Kathleen Katy-bear,” he’d say, combining her birth name with the pet name he’d given her. “What we have is priceless. The things you’re stowing away can never compensate for the memories in our hearts.”

Then, he would take her into his arms. “Come sleep with me,” he’d say, taking her mind off the task she was doing. He would stress the present moments as he pounded into her body.   Her screams of delight and his groans of pleasure, as he released his semen, had him falling on top of her after their climax, whispering words between breaths, as he pecked her ears, her neck, and her cheeks, planting tiny kisses in the aftermath. “This is significant, Katy-bear,” he’d say. “Nothing is more important than this. My lips on your lips. The warmth of our mouths as we explore each other, me pressing you close to my body letting you feel the heat you’ve generated in me. Only that counts, Katy-bear."

 Kathleen sat holding his jacket in her arms. Three years had passed, but his aroma was still present like yesterday.

Tears covered her face as she unpacked. She was on the last box before the Salvation Army came to pick up his clothing. She gave them a call after he appeared to her in a dream. He’d admonished her for dishonouring their love by not remembering the sweet golden moments.

The smiles when they were both thinking about the same things, the hugs when she accidentally asked a question that pointed out an error in the planning of his next mission, or the late-night walks where she gathered stones and put them in her pockets, and he would remind her those stones were like him. Each time that he returned she collected the broken pieces of his soul and put them back together again.  In the evenings, he would take her in his arms and hug her tightly, and say, "Let's go upstairs, I need you."  And upstairs, they went and made passionate love with the full realisation each time could be their very last.

 

 It happened. They both knew the time had come. Yet, Giovanni’s death came too soon. He was too young.

 What do I do now? Even though I was older, you understood me. What do I do now, Giovanni?

 "I hate you, Giovanni!”  Kathleen cried out. “You and your honour for your country. Why did you have to go on that particular mission? Why couldn’t you let someone else volunteer? No one misses you as much as I do," she screamed.  

Her tears flowed heavily; mucus ran out her nose, and her hands trembled as she pulled the things out of the last box and threw them on the mountain before her.

She picked up the jacket she mistakenly threw back into the box.

  I'll keep this jacket. It smells of you.

She put her left arm into the left sleeve. Something solid in the left pocket of the jacket touched her hip bone. Reaching into the pocket, she pulled out a flat, jagged key.

  NaNu, what do you open? 

With the key in her hand, her gaze went to the box, and that’s when she saw the dark mahogany chest. She lifted the chest out of the box sat down on the floor; her back to the mountain of clothing.

Where did you come from? Why would Giovanni buy a chest?

 Her hands trembled; the key shook as she put it into the lock.

 She hoped the key wouldn’t fit. All her beautiful bubbles of their seven-year relationship could suddenly burst into thin air.

 

 Laughter filled the loft.

 Giovanni, are you here?

“Don't be afraid Katy-bear. Turn the key!”

Her heart beats became irregular; her chest ached.

People will think I’m insane if I tell them I heard Giovanni’s voice.

Her eyes grew large when she raised the chest top. Within were seven mid-size diaries, and she took out the first one.

 Leaning against her mountain, she opened the journal and began to read the first page. She burst out in laughter. “You sneak!” She yelled out joyfully for the first time in three years. Her tears forgotten, she began to read aloud.

“Words for you, Katy-bear. Invisible conversations I’ve had with you on each mission. Each diary records my present moments when you weren’t there. I love you, Katy-bear. Always have, always will. Love is eternal.”

 The anguished and inner turmoil she’d suffered, eased. The pain in her chest disappeared.

Yes, love is eternal.

Sitting by the box in her loft, her back against the mountain of Giovanni’s clothes, Kathleen read as she slipped over into eternity to be with her Giovanni.

                    ---

Shalom aleichem,

Pat Garcia August 13 2016

Pat Garcia


Guest Blogging at the WEP Website on the Importance of Critical Reading

Hello Everyone,

I am guest blogging over at the WEP website on Critical Reading. Please drop by and read my article on The Importance of Critical Reading. The link is,

http://writeeditpublishnow.blogspot.de/2017/01/wep-guest-post-importance-of-critical.html

Also, the next WEP is coming up in February for all of you who are interested in participating. I recommend it highly. It is Flash Fiction at its best.

I will be returning with my Work In Progress,  Just At Dawn, and short snippets about what is happening between Phoebe and Daniel on Friday.

Have a great day and be safe.

Shalom aleichem,

Pat Garcia August 13 2016
Pat Garcia


The Woman and Her Dream, Winner of the 2016 WEP December Utopian Dreams Challenge, Sponsored by Write-Edit-Publish

Badge_GirlCastle5_PatGarcia
First-moment experiences are never forgotten.  They are the golden nuggets of success, which keeps you moving forward in whatever you have chosen to accomplish.  That is one of the reasons why it is so important to record them in your heart in your treasure trove of memories.

 

Today, I have received a first-moment experience. I have been informed my entry, The Woman and Her Dream, is the winner of the 2016 WEP December Utopian Dreams Challenge.  This challenge is my first win.  I have participated in many writing challenges over the years, but this is my first win, and I am elated and thankful.

 

Many heartfelt thanks to Denise Covey and Yolanda Reneè.  You have made my day.

 

Shalom aleichem,

Pat Garcia August 13 2016

Pat Garcia


The Woman and Her Dream by Pat Garcia

Thumbnail_Badge_GirlCastle5


The ocean waves rippled under the woman's belly.  They tickled her stomach, gently.  The red rays in the heaven signalled the ending of the day. Though she couldn't tell where the day began or where it ended. Unending was time. The reddish orange tint spread itself out upon the ocean. The width and breadth of its streams amazed her. 

She lay on the atop of the ocean and observed the cold blooded mammals in the deep. Water drops touched her hair and ran down both of her temples. She gazed out into the vastness. Coming her way was a giant six-legged cirrata. Its arms splattering water as it moved toward her. 

 

The strange singsong squawking of the eagle above her lulled her mind. Had she finally made it? She opened her eyes and turned over to watch the giant bird’s approach.  The roar of the waves became stronger. A blue-black fin sticking up out of the ocean was gliding in her direction. A smile crossed her face; she should have known this was the way it would be. Embedded in nature, surrounded by water, the inner peace she sought overtook her, and she sighed and stretched her legs.

 

“I love this place. This is heavenly.”

 “Indeed it is, Woman.”

 “Prophet?”

 “Yes?”

 “Is this real?”

 “Is what real?”

 “The peace.”

 The singsong squawking sound of the Eagle intrigued her. She laughed.

 “He’s singing a song for you.”

 “Yes, I know. That’s why I’m laughing, but you haven’t answered my question, Prophet.”

 “What question?”

 “Is this peace real or is it an illusion?”

 “Do you like the eagle’s song, Woman?”

 “Of course, I do. I already told you that.”

 “You told me you were laughing at the sound.”

 “Well, I like the Eagle’s song. He sounds like a chorus of frogs.” She imitated his sounds and then  burst into giggles.

 “Arms crawled around her neck and slid down her shoulders.  “Octopus, what took you so long to get here? Did you dive down to the ocean floor?

 The Eagle arrived and circled around her.  The whale sprouted water and doused her.

 “I’m a mess. I think I need to stay here.”

 “Why’s that, Woman?”

 “The peace.”

 “Oh.”

 “Oh what, Prophet?”

 “Peace is a priceless commodity where you come from?”

 “Prophet! A lion and a bear are dancing on the water! Are they friends?”

 “Everybody is a friend.”

 “Not where I come from.”

 “Oh.”

 “This peace is transformative.”

 “The quietness?”

 “Yes, Prophet. The stillness. It’s peaceful.”

 “No stillness down there, huh?”

 “Too much talk.”

 “Why talk, Woman?

 “People are afraid of stillness.”

 “Why?”

 “Fear, Prophet.”

 “What about you, Woman?”

 She turned to answer him.  A flash of light shone. Something buzzed loudly breaking the silence. She covered her ears with her hands, the sound getting louder as it came closer. 

“Stop it,” she screamed.

 The explosion burst down her door. The blast knocked out the window panes.   Her body thrown against the wall, she landed a few feet away from her bed. 

 No, no, no!

 The floor was shattered with glass. Her hands bled.  In her confusion, she tried to think as she counted her fingers.

Ten. Good.

 Slowly, she crawled to where her door once was and headed to the shelter beneath her apartment. 

 It was only a dream.

The war is not over.

There is no peace.

 

 ---

Shalom aleichem,

Pat Garcia August 13 2016

Pat Garcia

 

 

 


WIPpet Wednesday, November 16, 2016

WIPpet Wednesday
It is WIPpet Wednesday. Many thanks to Emily Witt, who initiated this wonderful WIPpet gathering.  

What am I reading?

Still reading PEAK: Secrets From The New Science Of Expertise by Anders Ericsson and Robert Pool, How To Become A Writer by Barbara Baig, and I Was Right On Time, My Journey from the Negro Leagues to the Majors, Buck O’Neil with Steve Wulf and David Conrad, and Aftermath by George Weinstein, which I bumped up to the top of the list, My GRL by John Howell, and The 12 Key Pillars of Novel Construction: Your Blueprint for Building a Strong Story by C.S. Lakin.

  • What do I plan to read next?

The Violin Man’s Legacy by Seumas Gallacher and Flash 40 Life’s Moments by Janelle Jalbert, The Last Coach by Allen Barra, and My Personal Best by John Wooden with Steve Jamison, Our Justice by John Howell, and Miami Morning by Mary Clark.

My Snippet is composed of 11 sentences out of chapter 14. Daniel has returned to his office. He confronts Phoebe asking her if she has taken a lunch break.

                                                ***

“Did you take a break?”

“No, I didn’t come in until noon, so I don’t need a break.”

“Yes, you do. Take one now.”

“I don’t want to take a break; I would like to finish what I’m doing.”

“Phoebe, we’re not going to discuss this. As your boss, I’m ordering you to take a break.”

“Okay, Boss. I’ll go sit in the coffee lounge and have a coffee, if that will satisfy your command.”

“No, it won’t. Take three hours off. Go home. See about the kids and give me a call around seven to see if I need you to come back into the office.”

That’s all folks.

Until next Wednesday, be safe.

Shalom aleichem,

Pat Garcia August 13 2016

Pat Garcia


WIPpet Wednesday, November 9, 2016

WIPpet Wednesday
It is WIPpet Wednesday. Many thanks to Emily Witt, who initiated this wonderful WIPpet gathering.  

  • What have I read?

I read, once again, Nora Roberts Born In Ice, Born In Shame, and Born In Fire.

What am I reading?

Still reading PEAK: Secrets From The New Science Of Expertise by Anders Ericsson and Robert Pool, How To Become A Writer by Barbara Baig, and I Was Right On Time, My Journey from the Negro Leagues to the Majors, Buck O’Neil with Steve Wulf and David Conrad, and Aftermath by George Weinstein, which I bumped up to the top of the list, My GRL by John Howell, and The 12 Key Pillars of Novel Construction: Your Blueprint for Building a Strong Story by C.S. Lakin.

  • What do I plan to read next?

The Violin Man’s Legacy by Seumas Gallacher and Flash 40 Life’s Moments by Janelle Jalbert, The Last Coach by Allen Barra, and My Personal Best by John Wooden with Steve Jamison, Our Justice by John Howell, and Miami Morning by Mary Clark.

My Snippet is composed of 7 paragraphs out of chapter 13. Daniel and Clay are having lunch in Clay’s office. Daniel requested to see him. Clay begins the conversation.

                                                ***

                                                           

“You sounded like the issue you need to talk about was crucial, Daniel.  A matter of life and death. So, what’s problem?

“The problem is a medium-sized Afro with big hips, large, long, legs and breasts that make me want to lay my head between them and sleep. Not to mention a heart filled with compassion that’s driving me crazy.”

“Phoebe, huh?”

 “How did you know?”

“You only had to look at your face at the Chamber of Commerce benefit. No one else recognized it but I saw it, and Roberta did too. In fact, she was quite concerned about whether or not you would attack Phoebe with your emotional instability.”

Daniel laughed. “Man, instability is a good choice of words. That night I got to meet unexpectantly one of my sons, Quad 3. He was waiting up for Phoebe. Wanted to sleep in her bed.”

“How did you feel about meeting him like that?”

*** 

 

That’s all, folks.

Have a nice rest of the week, and be safe.

Shalom aleichem,

Pat Garcia August 13 2016

Pat Garcia


WIPpet Wednesday, November 2, 2016

WIPpet Wednesday
It is WIPpet Wednesday. Many thanks to Emily Witt, who initiated this wonderful WIPpet gathering.  

  • What have I read?

I haven’t completed any of the books I am reading.

What am I reading?

Still reading PEAK: Secrets From The New Science Of Expertise by Anders Ericsson and Robert Pool, How To Become A Writer by Barbara Baig, and I Was Right On Time, My Journey from the Negro Leagues to the Majors, Buck O’Neil with Steve Wulf and David Conrad, and Aftermath by George Weinstein, which I bumped up to the top of the list, My GRL by John Howell, and The 12 Key Pillars of Novel Construction: Your Blueprint for Building a Strong Story by C.S. Lakin.

  • What do I plan to read next?

The Violin Man’s Legacy by Seumas Gallacher and Flash 40 Life’s Moments by Janelle Jalbert, The Last Coach by Allen Barra, and My Personal Best by John Wooden with Steve Jamison, Our Justice by John Howell, and Miami Morning by Mary Clark.

My Snippet is composed of 2 paragraphs out of chapter 13.

                                                ***

Daniel walked into the beautiful L-Shaped two story building of Clay Forrester admiring the simplicity yet warmth that radiated throughout its hallways. A smile broke out on Daniel’s face; the building displayed the personality of its architect–– Clay Forrester.   The husband to Roberta Forrester, Clay was the only one of the three male friends Daniel had, that did not work directly for him.

Clay was expecting him. At Daniel’s early morning arrival at his office, he had given Clay a phone call. Greeted by Clay’s personal assistant, she indicated that Clay was waiting on him and nodded toward the door.

                                                            ***

That’s all, folks.

Until next week, be safe.

Shalom aleichem,

Pat Garcia August 13 2016

Pat Garcia


WIPpet Wednesday, October 26, 2016

WIPpet Wednesday
It is WIPpet Wednesday. Many thanks to Emily Witt, who initiated this wonderful WIPpet gathering.  

  So, what have I done this week:

  • What have I read?

I haven’t completed any of the books I am reading. I had an essay to finished for an anthology and found out today that the editor would like to include it in the anthology. It is non-fiction and my first inclusion in an anthology and I am delighted.

What am I reading?

Still reading PEAK: Secrets From The New Science Of Expertise by Anders Ericsson and Robert Pool, How To Become A Writer by Barbara Baig, and I Was Right On Time, My Journey from the Negro Leagues to the Majors, Buck O’Neil with Steve Wulf and David Conrad, and Aftermath by George Weinstein, which I bumped up to the top of the list, My GRL by John Howell, and The 12 Key Pillars of Novel Construction: Your Blueprint for Building a Strong Story by C.S. Lakin.

  • What do I plan to read next?

The Violin Man’s Legacy by Seumas Gallacher and Flash 40 Life’s Moments by Janelle Jalbert, The Last Coach by Allen Barra, and My Personal Best by John Wooden with Steve Jamison, Our Justice by John Howell, and Miami Morning by Mary Clark.

My Snippet is composed of 16 paragraphs continuing with chapter 12. Next week, I am jumping to a snippet out of chapter 13.

Background and summary: This is a continuation of what happens in chapter 12. Kirk, Peter, and Daniel come out of Daniel’s office. Phoebe has arrived and is sitting in her office. Maria is not in the office.

                                    ***

“Afternoon, Phoebe,” Kirk said. “Everything’s okay?”

“Afternoon, you three,” Phoebe said and then said to Kirk, “Everything’s fine.”

“Good, then we’ll see you on Saturday,” Peter said, taking Kirk’s arm and rushing him out the door.

“How are you really?” Daniel asked leaning against her door observing her.

“I’m fine.”

“Good. I’m going out to lunch now. Can you give me the keys to the car?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry, I should have given them to you when I walked into the office, but I didn’t want to disturb your meeting.”

“No problem, but you can disturb my meetings. If I don’t want to be disturb, I have a sign that says do not disturb. But you and Maria are the only two who have permission to not obey the sign.”

“Well, I just learned something new. Thanks.”

“Can you authorize the allocations for the mergers alone or do you need me to be here?” Daniel asked.

“No, I can do it. You don’t need to stay.”

“Okay then, I’m leaving and probably won’t be back until three of four.”

“I’ll tell Maria when she gets back.”

“Phoebe?” Daniel murmured, and he walked to her desk and lifted up her chin and forced her to look at him. “I really enjoyed yesterday evening. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“See you when I get back,” Daniel said and departed her office. Two minutes later, he waved to her as he departed the suite.

“Bye,” Phoebe whispered to the wind.

 

That's all, folks.

Until next week, be safe.

Shalom aleichem,

Pat Garcia August 13 2016

Pat Garcia


WIPpet Wednesday, October 19, 2016

WIPpet Wednesday
It is WIPpet Wednesday. Many thanks to Emily Witt, who initiated this wonderful WIPpet gathering.  I am still working out of boxes, but the boxes are fewer than before.

  So, here goes for today:

  • What have I read?

I read Bound by the Summer Prince by Mistral Dawn, The review will appear on my book review blogs soon.

What am I reading?

Still reading PEAK: Secrets From The New Science Of Expertise by Anders Ericsson and Robert Pool, How To Become A Writer by Barbara Baig, and I Was Right On Time, My Journey from the Negro Leagues to the Majors, Buck O’Neil with Steve Wulf and David Conrad, and Aftermath by George Weinstein, which I bumped up to the top of the list.

  • What do I plan to read next?

My GRL by John Howell, The Violin Man’s Legacy by Seumas Gallacher and Flash 40 Life’s Moments by Janelle Jalbert, The Last Coach by Allen Barra, and My Personal Best by John Wooden with Steve Jamison, Our Justice by John Howell.

My Snippet is composed of 10 paragraphs continuing with chapter 12. I may present the entire chapter, but I am not sure,.

Background and summary: This is Kirk’s reaction to Daniel stealing Phoebe.

                                    ***

"You, scoundrel, you,” Kirk said. “Now you’re stealing my best employee.”

Daniel and Peter both laughed.

“Kirk,” Daniel said, “ you can’t have it both ways. Phoebe stays, but you won’t have her anymore; she works in this office.”

“So, why was Angie here?” Peter asked.

“To protect Phoebe and find out my intentions.”

“And what are your intentions?” Kirk asked.

“I told Angie the same thing I’m telling you guys. I’m not going to hurt Phoebe. By the way, please keep Angie’s visit a secret. Phoebe doesn’t need to know it.”

“Why?” Peter asked.

“Because Phoebe is suspicious and very sensitive, at the moment. If she knew Angie was late to school to come and to talk to me, she’d think Angie betrayed her.”

That’s all, folks.

Until next week, be safe.

Shalom aleichem,

Pat Garcia Oct 14 2016

Pat Garcia