A BELATED NEW 2022 TO ALL

beer bubbles
a bittersweet taste
from yesterday

wild chrysanthemums
being withered
today more than yesterday

starry night —
yesterday, today, tomorrow
wild chrysanthemums
expand
and contracts

starry night —
in last year’s faraway field
withering chrysanthemums increase
its brightness

wild plum blossoms
today more than yesterday
shine in the forest
in the color of the moon

SUCH DELICIOUS ENTICEMENTS – A SHORT STORY

Eric leaned in, his bloodied lips grazed Alice’s ear causing her to catch her breath. ‘Hello, Lover.’

‘Kiss me,’ she snapped. Eric grabbed at the gold chain around her neck, pulling Alice against him. His lips smeared some salty substance against their mouths.

‘Eric.’

‘Alice.’

Eric pushed her raven curls aside; he peppered airy butterfly kisses along her chin. He pushed the spaghetti straps from her shoulders, the dress falling away in a pool at their shifting feet, leaving Alice only in her cotton black bra and panties.

‘I will have you this night.’ He vowed.

Holding her breath, Alice submitted to his demands. Eric had immediately reached down to cup her sex. His thumb drew small circles against her panties. He assaulted her mouth again, just barely touching the tip of her tongue. Suddenly, he bent down and took hold of her thighs and tossed her back onto her bed.

STALKER – A SHORT STORY

As is my nature, I lay cocooned in my bed covers. In the deepest of sleep, I ignored the indifferent outside distractions.

Carried by the sub-zero winter winds, ice pellets hit the street lights and covered all the gated houses. Black metal gates, sidewalks, and the once black and yellow streaked roads glossed over. The bare trees and their branches were swathed by inches of coarse ice.

The windows were lustrous as I slept insulated within my sheets and blankets, the winter world an oblivion to me.

I sat up instinctively. I had no reason why. I was not awakened by my sleeping dog that remained at my feet or roused by the house alarm.

He is here again, camouflaged by the night shadows; he is the dark tree without movement. He whose eyes that I have never seen. Bold in defiance, I turn to him; my body, immobile, shakes in horror. I dare not move out of bed. I must be still and pretend to sleep. Draping myself with my bed linen, I lay back and shut my eyes. Preventing any further noticeable trembles, I compress my legs together. I can feel his presence, but I cannot see him. I never see him. I only feel him.

He knows somehow that I have sealed my eyes, clinching them shut. I just want him to go away. I try and compose myself – it is no use. Covering my mouth with my right sheeted hand, I scream out, knowing that he is laughing at this. How can it be that he can see me? How could anyone see through the inches of ice that adhere against my window?

Crouching into a fetal position, I smash myself down against the mattress and shudder in panic. I tremble, pleading in whispers for his flight. The ice droplets continue pouring against the roof; I can hear the pound, bang, tapping of ice against winter clay as my heart beats- thumping excessively. I feel sweat washing down my neck length hair onto my spaghetti strapped shoulders, and the coldest of cold shivers pierces my spine. Desperate to release their unnatural hold, I feel every muscle in my body tightening. I tremble. I wait.