Write: Zombie Squad Ponderings

A friend of mine is getting interested in Zombie Squad. I used to be real excited about it, but now I'm a little swamped with everything else.  So I've been pondering going with him to the first Iowa meeting.

"Target spotted.  Over."  The radio crackled in Kayla's ear, telling her to hurry.  She mumbled a reply and picked her way over the winter grass, blades crunching beneath her feet.  She winced at the noise but Kayla knew she wouldn't be heard in the back yard she was making a bee line for. 

"No survivors.  Repeat no survivors.  Over."

Kayla didn't need the radio to tell her that no victim would survive this attack, she could hear it in the screams.  Survivors screamed like their lives depended on it.  It was harsh, frantic, but still held a note of hope.  As they demanded help, they believed a hero would come and rescue them. 

Victims knew they would die.  Their voices were lower as if it didn't matter how they pushed the octaves.  The sounds were full of pain, pleading for it to end, regret for a world lost.  And then nothing but sobs that faded to silence.

Kayla stopped as the screaming stopped.  All that was left was hurt little noises and sobs.  She took a deep breath and adjusted her shoulders, moving the strap that held the shotgun across her back into a better position.  She double checked the load on the shotgun in her hand and nodded to herself.  "One, two..."

She flew around the broken door in the fence, firing directly at the head of the attacking zombie.  Decayed flesh and brains scattered through the yard.  Kayla pumped two more shells into the creature, leaving only a stump of neck before stepping back.

The remains of a young man were thrown against the house, a smear of blood showing where he had slid down the siding.  The woman that had been the latest snack lay in a bloody mess beneath the zombie.  Kayla hadn't adjusted her aim to avoid her.  There was no need, she was dead when she stopped screaming.

Kayla stared at the woman, watching her chest frantically drawing in air.  Each breath exposed more of the white ribs showing through her skin where the zombie had been munching.    Kayla gave her a weak smile before blowing her pretty blonde head into bits.  "I'm sorry."

She could have saved bullets if she had pulled the man away from the wall before blowing away his head, but she wasn't sure how long he had been dead.  There was no specific time frame for when the virus took hold.  Too many of her friends had been killed by handling a dead body suddenly turned zombie.

"Kayla to Treehouse.  Yard cleared.  Over."

Write: A Missing Key

"Stop, stop!"  I'll tell you!"  Barclay slid across the cement floor on his back with arms raised to protect his face.  The man was half Urisk and it showed in his craggy face, but his human side had more control over him than the Fae.

“Tell me what?”  I asked as I swaggered toward him.  I let my boot heels click loudly, emphasizing each step towards him.  He rubbed at his face but only succeeded in smearing blood from his nose to his cheek.  Pitiful.  All those muscled and he was overpowered by a girl.  Then again, I’m much more than just that.

“Everything, witch. Everything.”

I hunkered down next to him, resting my elbows on my knees.  My flash of smile made him wince.  I shook my head and tucked the multicolored hair back behind my ears.  “I thought you didn’t know anything.  You swore up and down you didn’t know where the key was.  If you don’t know that, then I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

“I lied,” he sobbed, “I’m sorry.”  Barclay gave up his fussing to lay curled on the cement.  He sniffed and gasped, tears making the blood run again.  I hate it when targets cry.  It makes my job more difficult.  Have you ever tried beating up a guy who is blubbering?  It’s not fun. 

I swallowed my sigh and twisted my fingers, mumbling the chant before I reached out to touch him.  The truth spell settled down while he jerked at my fingers on his forehead.  “Now tell me what you should have before.  Where is the key to Willow Grove, Barclay?  Where is the key to the Fae?”

Musing: Another Day Dawns

Another day dawns,
full of hearts and roses
in the middle of winter.
Another day dawns,
getting a jump start
on spring.
Another day dawns,
the beloved sing
of their lovers.
Another day dawns,
Cupid curses the arrows
gone astray.

Musing: My Son

To my son,
on the cusp
of teenage change,
I say don't rush it -
enjoy your time
free of older worries
and take time to play.
I rejoice in every night
left with your younger self.

Musing: Birthdays!

This time of year all everyone seems to be talking about is the upcoming Super Bowl and when spring will get here.  I, on the other hand, am entering a weekend of birthdays.  My mother, friend, and a different friend's mother all have birthdays on February 6th.  My son's birthday is February 7th. 

The kiddo turns eleven this year.  Eleven!  I think that's even worse than hitting double digits last year.  It's just proof that he is growing up, I guess.  Next year he goes to middle school and he's already going through the hormone changes and attitude extravaganzas.  We cycle birthday parties.  One year it will be themed with party games, etc, and the next it will be at a pizza place with games.  Our mainstay birthday place in town closed for good after last years flood, unfortunately, but a different place opened a few years ago.  

I'm not even going to think about how old my mom or friends are.  I'm sure they would all hurt me for saying anyway. :) 

At this time of year, I try to show my kiddo and mom just how much they mean to me.  We may yell and fight and scream at each other, but we are still family, still loved, and still special. 

I'm going to be making my mom lunch before her Superbowl party.  The kiddo and family are going to celebrate at Perfect Games, a pizza/arcade/bowling/laser tag place (we're going to have pizza with mafia type names.  It's fantastic.  The pizza section is called Kingpin Pizza). 

Do you do something special for birthdays?  How do you show your love?

Musing: A Candle Gleams

A candle gleams
the flame magnified across snow
darkness retreats
and the sun returns
warming the earth
to awake the seeds of spring.

Musing: Reminders

Mother Nature reminds us,
makes herself known
in the two day snow,
on slick roads and heavy winds,
she is the master of our fate
We call her sleeping
under the winter blanket
but she leaves us reminders
she is a light sleeper.

Musing: A Manifesto

I am... only me.
I can... make my voice heard.
I will... stand up for myself and my beliefs.
I believe... I can make a difference.

Musing: Bound Constellations

The stars above,
infinite in number,
pour out their blessings
and lead me a dance
across the sky
until I, tired and weary,
return to earth
amid constellations
bound to the plains.

Musing: Stolen Time

I write on stolen time,
on light when darkness reigns.
Front and snow give trees winter leaves
while they lie sleeping,
glowing with reflected headlights
that cut through morning fog,
silent sentinels brooding over the intrusion.
And I , I cut the dark with my light,
stealing time,
writing them out of the night.

Musing: Holiday Music

The noise is contagious –

going for a sleigh ride,

jingling bells

around the clock.

Every speaker seems

determined to get at you,

to convert you to the Claus.

They send out worms

burrowing into your brain

incessently repeating.

It’s on everyone’s lips –

a hum, a phrase, a verse.

Forced cheeriness

in the darkness of winter.

Musing: Solstice Muse

Lia was late.

Seriously late.

There was no 'I'm going to be late if I don't hurry' or 'If I go past the speed limit I can make it.'  No, she was already supposed to be there and she was still at home.

"Crap, crap, crap," the blonde muttered under her breath as she tied her sandals to her feet.  Her hair was twisted into a cable that kept falling over one shoulder and getting into her way.  Standing up, she checked herself in the mirror a final time.  Stars fell in embroidered patterns from her shoulders as the dark blue fabric floated over her slim frame.  It was held close to her waist with a silver cord and left her arms bare to show off the bangles jingling on her wrists.  The tunic ended at mid-thigh but a darker skirt covered her legs to her ankles.  More silver cord held the panels together down to her knee where they were tied.

She straightened the tunic and slung a bag over her head and shoulder, letting it rest at the small of her back.  Lia headed out the door at a run, barely slowing down enough to grab the orb sitting on her desk.

The orb was bronze and the size of a softball, pricked all over in patterns that started to slow softly as she ran into the woods.  Snow had fallen earlier and was part of the reason she was late.  The path had been packed down and cleared, leaving the snow in piles between the trees.  Her breath steamed as she ran.  A glance above showed the blue fading away as the night began to creep in.

"Crap!" Lia uttered again and urged more speed out of her feet.  The orb cast shadows against the trees as it glowed more and more in the fading light.  The path ahead turned left, but Lia turned right, darting between two old trees with the branches entwined above.

One moment her feet were freezing in the snow.  The next, the orb became a globe of bright light that obscured everything.  Now she was pounding up a gravel path to the stone steps up a hill, green grass growing on both sides beyond the row of columns lining the path.

"It's almost time, Lia.  You're late."

"So are you,"  Lia didn't bother looking at the raven who rose in a flurry of wings from a rock by where she had emerged.  Now that she was here, she could see the sun had almost touched the horizon.  She sped up the side of the hill, aiming for the gathering in the field above.

A huge palace loomed off to the side, higher than the field, and lit up with foxfire and globes of light.  Candles and braziers burned everywhere and would cast the hill in brightness when the sun set.  All of this to for Solstice, to welcome the sun back from the longest night.

She aimed for the gathering of her siblings.  They were easy to pick out next to the stage, their clothing made them look like galaxies were colliding.  She came to a halt and stowed her orb away in her bag to avoid the ticked off look on her brother’s face.  This was their year to charm the sun back from its sleep and no one wanted to fail. 

"Aurelia, you had me worried."

Lia winced at the exasperation in her mother’s tone and turned after stowing her bag away.  She nodded in greeting to the man holding her mother’s hand.  “Lord Apollo.  Mother.  Happy Solstice.  I’m sorry I’m late.  One of my students had a question.”

Apollo laughed and shushed her explanation with a hand.  His golden hair glowed with the reflected light of the sunset.  “Not to worry, Aurelia.  Ourania and I are pleased you could make it.  Isn’t that right?”  The God of Music and other things turned to his companion who nodded and kissed Lia’s cheek.

“You all will be magnificent.  How not when you are Muses yourselves?” 

Lia smiled and settled in with her siblings as they moved onto the stage.  Their voices lifted in hope and supplication as the last portion of the sun disappeared beneath the horizon and the night began.  They filled the dark hours with music and dance, a celebration intended to woo the sun back from its slumber.

She may have missed this evenings practice, but Lia was a child of a Muse and had already gone over the gig a million times.  She never missed a note as the gods and spirits danced around the field.  One this night, differences were set aside and everyone behaved themselves.  Well, mostly.  They were gods after all.  But no wars were started or fights begun.  Hermes even asked her to dance a reel with him.

A long night later, the beginning song was sun again.  Each of her siblings and all the attendees raised their arms to the eastern horizon as the darkness began to fall beneath Dawns hooves.  They took up the call, weaving their voices in and out, over and below, creating a haunting melody that asked for the return of the sun.  They sang in memory of a sunlit beach, the warmth of light on their skin.  They sang for the crops in the ground, for the leaves on the trees.  They sang the sun back to earth and cheered when the first rays of the glowing orb touched the hill.

The sun had returned.

Musing: Count Down

The season counts down
one more day gone
full of merriment and excitement
for little ones
bouncing with anticipation
one more day to check the lists
shop the stores and worry
about coal
Parents keep the suspense
building for an early morning

Musing: After Dark

Everyone has gone home

at 1 am.  Only 

sleepy clerks and

waxing machines roam the aisles.

Then a cackle breaks loose,

every botton is pressed,

and the toys come

alive.

Musing: At Dawn

There is a rainbow
stacked on the horizon.
Layered like cocktail hour,
each heavier than the next,
keeping them separate and distinct
until the sun rises farther
and shakes the sky into
a uniform color.

Musing: Pull the covers up

The cold has moved in.
Silently, quietly,
pulliing the covers up
and shutting windows.
The hum of the furnace
replaces the rustle of leaves
and teasing night winds.
Too soon the first of frost
will touch our lives.

Musing: Morning Crows

Crows scold us
on our way through the lot
for disturbing their scavaging.
The brave ones wait
on curbs and trees,
playing chicken with the
land-bound beast before
taking to the air
joining the circling
clouds of their kind.

Musing: Poetry Fill In

Well, boys and girls, it is NaNoWriMo time and I feel like I am cheating myself when I write something not related to my novel already.  So today (and probably the rest of the month) I will be scouring my notebooks for poems to share with you.  I don't think I'm going to be writing any poetry this month either unless I get ahead of my word count goal.  I've got some craft projects to do too and have to fit the time in somewhere.

I thought I was on track last night as I averaged out my six pages a day.  Unfortunately, after actually counting the number of words, I'm a bit behind the average and I didn't write as much this morning.  But I have things planned every day this week.  And I have to work through lunch.  Next week I hope to be able to kick out more than the average to make up the slack.

For all my moaning about it, though, I am really enjoying and finding it pretty easy to just sit down and write.  Some of it will probably be trashed and some of it will be added to, but I like just getting the story out of my head and onto paper.

I hope you are enjoying NaNoWriMo!

The waning crescent
falls toward oblivion
the end of the silver light
every month, the death of it all
Nights in darkness
broken only by the
faint star light
But yet, when darkness reigns
a sliver is born again.