Umasabirah - These Are The Things That Keep Me Up At Night...

Moonlight rippled unnaturally on the lake as the car rounded the curve to the final stretch of dirt road before we reached the township of Elishire. I appreciated the ride–I knew I would have gotten lost in these twisting country backroads. I already longed for the lights and traffic and pavement of my city.

My name is Mary Ingstaff. I am a marriage consultant. I am here to assist with the marriage of Michelle Springs to Ezekiel Banks. I repeated these sentences like a mantra in an attempt to calm my nerves and stave off homesickness. I normally loved traveling for work, but leaving my own new wife at home put a strain on this trip.

If this job works out, Renee and I will be set for a while, I reassured myself, no more out-of-town gigs, no more flights, no more weird little towns. I looked over at my partner, Jake Stevens, who was somehow dozing with his head resting against the cold window. Aside from his many other talents, he was able to sleep anywhere. I’d always envied this ability.

We’d taken this job because of the pay–the entire township was chipping in for this wedding because of…reasons. Ezekiel Banks basically owned this place, so the townspeople had no choice but to contribute. The recent disappearance of his first wife, Constance–whom he’d supposedly divorced before her extremely convenient exit–had put extra pressure on the town to make this wedding special.

Banks’ very young wife, Michelle Springs, was barely out of high school. Poor Michelle, I thought, there must be rumors. There were always rumors in these small towns...

Horror

Monsters of Elishire

Nothing is as it appears.

Me whilst writing: This is a masterpiece…I am a literary genius

Me whilst editing my writing: I am an abomination to the writing community

Blue-Grey

I am Blue-Grey

Cool on the outside, yet

Stormy on the inside,

It's hard to see, at sea

What lies beneath, but

There is something always churning,

Yearning for more

Than what's on the shore;

What's in store

For the future

No one can tell,

Well,

I, for one,

Am no longer satisfied

With the status-quo

I'm using my

Gift of Time

To find

Something more.

Sappho as Muse in Nazi Germany

Did you write for Sellie Engler?

Did you whisper in her ear,

Did you speak to Lotte Hahm

Things she would maybe need to hear?

.

Did you strike fear in the Stasi,

Of woman loving woman, 

An offence to the Nazis

They'd try to silence one by one.

.

Did you visit Violetta,

Dance with ladies in Berlin,

Were you there when love was shattered

Like the glass they trampled in.

.

Are you here with us this day

As all the terrors rise again,

Will you be there as we’re taken,

Give us strength to rise within.

From Across the Room

She spotted him from across the busy coffee shop. He’d been looking at her moments before but averted his eyes down to his phone when she looked at him. His black hair was strategically messy and his five o’clock shadow seemed intentionally scruffy. As she watched him, he looked at her again and smiled, calculatedly embarrassed. Feeling her heart flutter, she smiled back and waved. Steeling her nerves, she picked up her mocha and maneuvered her way between patrons to his small table. 

“Is this seat taken?” she asked, sheepish. 

“No, please go ahead,” he responded in a low baritone.

She smiled and sat across from him, sealing her fate. Finally, the plan he’d been putting into place for weeks was set into motion.

Calm

The grey-white clouds caress the sky, casting a diffuse light over the comparatively-violent, bright green foliage. The birds are quiet and the bees seem to scramble over the flowers while they still can. There’s a feeling of preparation, an inhale of breath, a calm. A sharp pain in the side of my head speaks to a low pressure spiral. The leaves shiver and dance. It is almost time.

Make a Wish

I grip at your base,

Twist and pull

Displace

Your happy yellow blooms,

Beloved of bees.

I rip out your roots,

Stuff you into a bag.

Beneficial, nutritional, medicinal,

Hated by humans

Because you can't be

Marked, marketed, bought or sold;

You are a Survivor.

You thrive despite

Constant disruption.

You'll still be there,

Poking through the cracks

Your head turning fluffy white

To alight on the passing wind

Or the breath of a child

Who hasn't learned your sin.

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