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copyright-Rich Voza

The morning sun rises as I board my flight.  Most trips take a few hours.  My trip has taken 27 years.  The excitement has my mind spinning, unable to gather a thought.  My flight will take me across our great nation.  From the desert southwest to the beautiful eastern hill country.  An hour drive from the airport through beautiful green countryside is nearly missed from my view.  My mind only sees one thing. A picture of you dressed in blue.  I turn into the parking lot, seconds away from meeting.  My heart races.  I exit the car and we hug.  Finally I have a home. 

This was written for FRIDAY FICTIONEERS

THE CHALLENGE:

Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end. (No one will be ostracized for going over or under the word count.)

THE KEY:

Make every word count.

Join the fun!

At the Ocean’s Edge

Copyright-Renee Homan Heath

This week’s image comes to us from Renee Homan Heath:

WELCOME TO FRIDAY FICTIONEERS WHERE EVERY PICTURE TELLS A STORY

We are a growing community of blogging writers who come together each week from all parts of the globe to share individual flash fictions from a single photo prompt (above). The prompt goes up early Wednesday morning  CST to give each writer time to compose a story by Friday. Some use the photo as a mere inspiration while others use it as an illustration. Use your imagination and think outside the box.

I stared at this picture for what seemed like hours.  While I could have wrote of beauty or love, my mind kept going towards a graduation speech as a metaphor for life.  The word limit kinda hurt what wanted to come out.  So here is what escaped the cutting room floor.  I call it :  At the Ocean’s Edge

 

Mike closes his eyes as his toes touch the ocean.  He hears the speech he gave at graduation twenty years ago:

 “Fellow classmates, we have walked the path of knowledge and arrived at the ocean’s edge.  Today is our new beginning.  With our feet in the water, we must now cross the ocean.  The method we each choose to cross this vastness will be different.  Understand the challenge is not just crossing the ocean but enjoying the journey.  Embrace this challenge.”  

A curve in the road, too much alcohol and an innocent life taken landed him to prison.  He now stares beyond prison walls at the ocean.  His journey finally begins.  

 

  

Finding A Soul

There are moments in time where we meet someone who really affects our life.  That person to me was Gina, an employee I met three years ago in Yellowstone.  She sat next to me at breakfast in the employee dining room and said in a low voice “I see the scars on your arm.  I have scars too, expect mine are hidden inside.”

I stared at Gina speechless.  She was a beautiful southern belle with a lovely South Carolina accent.  Finally I muttered “nice to meet you, I am Brad.”

“I am sorry I was blunt, but I bet we have lots in common.  Our past.  Alcoholism.  Abuse.  Abandonment.  Sounds familiar?” she asked.

“Yes” I replied.  I was numb.

“I understand.  I am here in Yellowstone to heal emotionally and spiritually.  Therapy didn’t help.  So I turned to nature.  Nature will heal me,”  she said staring blankly ahead.  Then she looked at me and smiled.

I finally cleared my throat enough to say “I am here for the same.” 

“Great!   I am here to start a journey.  My last journey.  I am dying Brad.  My body will break down but my spirit will grow.  This I know.  I am here to live, not to die.”

What do I say?   Why did she chose me?  Do I make a friend when I know she will die?

“Brad,  when I saw your scars I immediately knew why I came here.  To find a soul that would understand me.   Are you that soul Brad?”

“Yes I will be that soul. But I am scared.”

“No Brad, don’t be scared.  Be strong.  Your scars tell me your are strong.  You survived.”

She was right.  That was the perfect word for my life.

We indeed had a journey together. It brought us across the US.  Hiking around Europe.  To India. And today we return to Yellowstone.  With her ashes per her request.   My  old scars have healed but a new one is open.  Can I survive now?

This was written for the Trifecta Week Fifty-six using the third definetion of the word:

HEAL

1a : to make sound or whole <heal a wound>
b : to restore to health
2a : to cause (an undesirable condition) to be overcome: mend <the troubles … had not been forgotten, but they had been healed — William Power>
b : to patch up (a breach or division) <heal a breach between friends>
3: to restore to original purity or integrity <healed of sin>

  

Hello World!

my_house

Wow!  Where do I begin?  From the beginning?  I think not.  How about from this moment?  Hmmm…not sure that works either.  How about from the house in the picture above.  I find that to be an appropriate beginning cause my time in that house is what shaped me to the man I am today.  Now that sentence can be looked at in many different ways.  Was that time in that house good?  Was it bad?  A combination of both perhaps?  Was it filled with love?  Who was there?  Lots of questions can be asked and answered, many of which will be touched upon in the growth of this blog.

So it is here where I chose to begin.  Shoo is part of a nickname my parents called me growing up in that house pictured in the south Louisiana town of St. Martinville.  Hence the phrase Mind of Shoo is just that, from my mind.

Since I chose to start my journey from an earlier part of my life, you may ask where am I now?  A glance in my About Me page will answer that and the subjects I will write about here will fill in the gaps in between!

So welcome to my blog! I don’t know exactly where this journey will take me but I desire to reach deep in the layers that make up the person I am now.  I hope to touch on this past as well as present!  My journey is truly no different from many Americans, but it is my hope that there could be lessons for anyone who stumbles across my humble writings here.

Till we meet again.  Good Day.

From the Mind of Shoo!