Writing exercise as listed on the BC list: If you could live another life right now, what kind of day would you be having? Write about it. Be as specific as you want, write so that we can see you, hear you and experience this fantasy day right along with you.

Good luck!

Tale

 

Reply to writing exercise: Well thanks bunches TW, because I needed all the luck I could get to actually write again.  Having mentioned that, I wish to clarify something at this juncture.  I still claim that Chantal has yet to finish the agreed upon story that this challenge was based on, so don’t think you’re weedling out of it.  Additionally, I decided to partake in this exercise of my own volition and desire…I wanted to see if I could actually still write.  I’ll let you be the judges. 

 

Finally, I want to say that I modified the challenge to meet my own needs.  <g  It certainly could be considered a ‘fantasy’ day in my life, only I am placing it in what will hopefully be my future. 

 

Feedback: as usual can be send roasted or underdone to: blindzonelyzon@aol.com.

 

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I’m not sure if it was the sun shining in so brightly through my bedroom window that woke me up, or maybe it was the smell of breakfast being made, but whatever the cause, I was content right there.  Our bed, it was the perfect place.  A place that held many happy memories filled with laughter and love and I couldn’t help but smile recalling some of the moments. 

Our home, we have been here for nearly ten years now and I can still picture the day we moved in.  Furniture placed haphazardly  about in the rush to get settled.  The boxes towered against the wall awaiting unpacking.  And somehow, as if by sorcery, everything found its place, and the house we moved into quickly felt like home. 

 

The sounds from the kitchen brought my distant thoughts back again and I could hear the breakfast preparations in its usual not so subtle manner.  It perplexes me, has for years now, at how one person could possibly make such a racket cooking up some eggs and sausage, but none the less, there was my Sarah doing just that.  Bowls clattered on the counter as the eggs surrendered to the manically thrashing being inflicted upon them.  A moment later, the not so gentle thuds as the table was being set.  The softly whispered curses as the sausage splattered and found skin to scorch.  And then the inevitable soon followed. 

 

“Mom…breakfast is almost ready!”  There was nothing melodic about the bellow, but it made me smile just the same. 

 

Sarah had remembered what day this was and took the time to come home from school to surprise us.  I’m so proud of my daughter, a beautiful young woman of 20.  Her intelligence, sense of humor, and love of life was so clearly evident in all that she did.  Despite her remarkable similarities to her father’s appearance, it was more than obvious that she was my daughter, at least in the personality department. 

 

I stretched and yawned in my usual bear-like manner and finally decided to open my eyes.  Every morning, regardless of the weather’s cooperation or not, I took in what was around me and marveled.  For me, all that I saw was beautiful, since the day of the highly experimental and greatly successful surgery I had a few years ago, that restored my vision.  By no stretch of the imagination is my vision perfect, well at least not to some.  But to me it is a gift, and one that I am grateful to have.  

 

My eyes caught sight of the glorious day before me as I gazed out our bedroom window.  Autumn, my favorite time of the year, adorned trees with a myriad of colors and shades.  The view of the mountains beyond was highlighted by the billowy clouds against the crisp blue sky.  The chill of the air reaching into our room coaxing me to nestle further down under the blankets. 

 

My movements stirred the sleeper next to me, interrupting the soft breathing sounds she made.  We had come to an agreement long ago, no longer accusing one another of snoring, instead compromising with the occasional reference to ‘the sounds of sleep’.  I turned to my side to look at her, quietly lying there, and watched the gentle movements in her face, enjoying the remaining  moments before she awoke.  It had taken a long time, but sleep now found her as friend and no longer struggle to elude her.  Peace was now her companion. 

 

The thought not to disturb her from her slumber left almost as quickly as it entered my mind.  Leaning in closer, I pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and whispered, “Happy anniversary,” and withdrew slightly to watch her expression. 

 

Awareness and gentle recognition took hold as a delicate smile began to form upon her lips.  Her eyelids fluttered briefly before revealing the gray-blues that I have looked into so many times, and yet each and every time I am amazed by them.  Not so much for their color, instead for the depth I see in them, the soul peering out and revealing to me the love she has for me. 

 

Quietly, in that tone I know is only meant for me, she whispers back, “A cow for you.” 

 

The smiles that had lingered on our lips, now erupt into full laughter and I can no longer control myself.  Reaching for the hem of her nightshirt, I quickly pull it away from her soft white skin and without hesitation, press my lips to it, and blow…the biggest raspberry I can muster. 

 

Laughter filled the room, along with shrieks of feigned protests.  And the trumpeting played on until I had no breath left in me.  Weakened and giddy, we lay there holding one another and caught our breath, until a thumping at the door, followed by muffled calls, gained our attention. 

 

The call, “come in” was met with louder, yet still muffled responses, seemingly more insistent.  Upon opening the door to our room, I beheld my pride and joy ladened with a tray full of breakfast foods and a bouquet of flowers protruding from her mouth.  No longer waiting an invitation, Sarah pushed past me and nearly dropped the tray onto the bed. 

 

Removing the flowers and sputtering a bit, she said, “Geez, its about time!  Aren’t you guys getting a little old for that sort of horse-play?”  And her smile lit her face as she spoke. 

 

“Watch it kid, I’m still your mother” I replied with a mock stern tone, “if you don’t show me the respect that I’ve become accustomed to…”

 

The snickering that was taking place transformed into out and out giggling as Sarah  stepped forward and threw her arms around me, saying, “Happy anniversary Mom!”  Sarah released me to make her way around the bed and flopped down next to the broadly grinning woman still lying there.  “And who’d of thunk the saint here would have made it this far?” 

 

Neither of them saw it coming, the pillow I flung in their direction smacked them both just as they embraced.  The dull thud only muffled the laughter for a moment, then fell away to reveal the two women I love most in the world, hugging and smiling back at me.  My heart nearly burst with the happiness I was feeling. 

 

Joining them on the bed, the three of us sat and talked while we ate the sumptuous breakfast Sarah had prepared.  Our conversation was nearly endless, talking of this memory and that and discussing the plans of the day.  Laughter weaved its way throughout our being together, just as it had always done, and the love and warmth that settled deep within us was given and shared readily. 

 

Ten years together in this house and I wondered how many times before it had been like this.  Watching both of them was like a dream come true.  My daughter who is a treasure given to me, and my love, a treasure that found me, both of them friends to one another.  And the rest of this day, will be filled with family and friends celebrating with us on our special day.  A celebration of love and acceptance, friendship and togetherness. 

 

I’m not so sure how I became so deserving of this life, possibly its because I dared to dream it in the first place.  Or maybe, just maybe, its because I dared to live it. 

 

-Hopefully A Prophetic Ending.