Because It's Halloween

Angeline’s Halloween
By H.A. Handy
Copyright (C) by H.A. Handy

Angeline stood quiet as a mouse just behind the front door. Her heart was hammering so hard she was sure he would be able to hear it on the other side. Please don’t let him hear me. Please don’t let him hear me. Thud thud thump went her heart. Angeline’s breath came out in an almost soft gasp which made her cup her hands over her nose and mouth and concentrate on her breathing for a moment. Somehow she managed to breathe more shallowly as her ears strained for any sound from outside.

Please don’t let him hear me. Please don’t let him hear me.

A shadow passed beneath the door. He was so close. He was so very close. Angeline pulled her feet back as far as she could lest he see a shadow of his own. Would he drop down to his hands and knees and try and look under the door through that tiny little crack? If he did, would he be able to see anything? Angeline’s heart pounded harder.

Let him go away. Please let him go away!

The boards creaked just outside the door and the shadow disappeared. He had gotten the others, but he wasn’t going to get her. She had seen all of the scary movies and she knew the mistakes the survivors made to end up to be the latest victims. Angeline was smart -- she wouldn’t make those same mistakes.

A shadow crossed at the window just to her right. It paused. Angeline stopped breathing. She closed her eyes. He won’t see me. He won’t see me. Go away. Please go away! As if he had heard some part of her mind, the shadow moved away from the window and the sound of retreating footsteps down the fire escape could be heard.

There was an urge to pull back the curtain and look outside but Angeline stopped it. Remember the movies. Remember the movies. Angeline stood where she was for ages. Silent. Still. Time dragged by until it seemed as if she had always been standing behind the door.

“Angeline...An-ge-line!” came a sing-song voice. “Come out, come out wherever you are?” It was Greg’s voice, not his voice. What if he had gotten to Greg and Greg was now helping him? Angeline listened as people began milling outside in the parking lot downstairs.

“You’ve won Angeline, come out!” he called.

“Yeah, come on Angeline, we’re going to be late for the party!” Monica called happily from the parking lot. Did they always say that in the movies? “Come on, Angeline! This costume is hot!” Angeline’s throat longed to call out and laugh and join in the fun, but, what if it hadn’t been an act, a simple game of pre-Halloween hide-and-seek for costumed college students? What if it turned out to be real in some way? What would she do then? The movies hadn’t really ever touched on that, but they did touch on deviousness and he was devious. He could have used the pre-party costumed hide-and-seek just for such an event – taking them all out.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said. “She’s in one of her moods again.” Car doors opened and closed and then an engine started. Angeline smiled. Had she indeed won? Were they all gone?

Slowly, carefully, Angeline hunched down and glanced out the thin curtained window to see the car filled with people who were almost her friends backing out of the driveway and smiled even brighter to herself. Maybe she had won after all, but she needed to make sure.

One of her moods? Angeline’s brow furrowed slightly.

Didn’t they really watch the movies and see how it was all played?

Angeline eased over to her closet and took out the axe she hadn’t had to use since last Halloween.

Well, it was time they learned.

One of the Coolest Places on the Web

This is truly one of the neatest places to go visit. So, go vist. Just click on the title and it will take you there - ThinkGeek.com.

A Cold Blue Funk

For the past several days I have been in a funk. A cold blue funk. I usually get this way when cold weather begins to happen it seems, it is just that this time it has been a horrible cold blue funk. Nothing I have attempted to do has actually been accomplished, although there are many plans for something, many things. Now I am heading out of that funk where I feel as if I am a failure at writing and the thought of just giving up and quitting telling stories has slowly begun to pass. When the weather is warm there is much hope in me, when the weather cools and the sky begins to gray there is not much hope inside to find a spark to keep going, to keep doing what I truly love and what truly makes me happy.

I could have posted many things these past few days but it would have been so dark and depressing I couldn't very well see what anyone would want to even read the News for! It possibly could fit in with Halloween, and I will try and look at it that way next year, since I will have the blog to help me remember what I did and didn't do.

Oodles of Love and Puddles

click to enlarge

Being the happy and very proud mama to a bouncing dog named JoJo, this just seemed SO appropriate for today. Upon seeing her daddy off this morning and giving me and our other, older dog Gabby much lovings, JoJo promptly found something to run and play with and so kept bouncing and play-growling, barking and having all the happy fun of youth's energy and life that could be wrung out of the moment until she just collapsed in a heap, her tail still wagging and her eyes still sparkling.

Yes, I understand the drool.

### ### ###

Today is Friday. I am happy to see the weekend arrive. This has not been a "bad" week. In fact, I am most grateful to have it headache free. I am looking forward, however, to having Kolbar around and hopefully getting the garbage taken out. I also need a break from writing even though I KNOW ideas and words will disturb me all weekend long until I am longing for Monday or a moment when I am to myself so I can deposit them upon paper or the computer.

Power Words From Leonard Cohen

Was listening to Leonard Cohen last night and found myself just sitting and listening. It seems when he sings that's what I do. Sit and listen. The words that come out of the radio or MP3 player or the computer are captivating and so true on so many different levels. The song that really struck down to my soul is "In the Tower of Song."

Tower Of Song

Well my friends are gone and my hair is grey
I ache in the places where I used to play
And I'm crazy for love but I'm not coming on
I'm just paying my rent every day
Oh in the Tower of Song


I said to Hank Williams: how lonely does it get?
Hank Williams hasn't answered yet
But I hear him coughing all night long
A hundred floors above me
In the Tower of Song


I was born like this, I had no choice
I was born with the gift of a golden voice
And twenty-seven angels from the Great Beyond
They tied me to this table right here
In the Tower of Song


So you can stick your little pins in that voodoo doll
I'm very sorry, baby, doesn't look like me at all
I'm standing by the window where the light is strong
Ah they don't let a woman kill you
Not in the Tower of Song


Now you can say that I've grown bitter but of this you may be sure
The rich have got their channels in the bedrooms of the poor
And there's a mighty judgment coming, but I may be wrong
You see, you hear these funny voices
In the Tower of Song


I see you standing on the other side
I don't know how the river got so wide
I loved you baby, way back when
And all the bridges are burning that we might have crossed
But I feel so close to everything that we lost
We'll never have to lose it again


Now I bid you farewell, I don't know when I'll be back
There moving us tomorrow to that tower down the track
But you'll be hearing from me baby, long after I'm gone
I'll be speaking to you sweetly
From a window in the Tower of Song
Yeah my friends are gone and my hair is grey
I ache in the places where I used to play
And I'm crazy for love but I'm not coming on
I'm just paying my rent every day
Oh in the Tower of Song

(L. Cohen) Stranger Music, Inc.

(c) 1996-2005 SONY BMG Music (Canada) Inc.

Fantasy Revealed, Part VIX

Fantasy Revealed
By H.A. Handy
Copyright 2005 (C) by H.A. Handy


(Part VIX)# # # # # # #



The table was a living tree whose large root rose up out of the ground to actually form it and our chairs were living vines and twigs that wound and bound themselves into that shape. Each chair was attached to the table in some form or fashion and were green and lovely, and quite comfortable. Vegetables, fruits, breads and cheeses filled the table itself to almost overflowing as my companions and I sat down. Elira sat at the head of the table and other elves served us with their flowing hair and robes giving them the allure of wisps.

There was a tall, almost wispy male who sat at Elira’s right hand. He had silver bracers at his wrists and a silver band around his long white-silver hair. He had not said anything the entire time we had been at the table and ate sparingly. To Elira’s left as an older elf, and he looked old, ancient in fact. He wore the same type of bands as the one on the right, except they were etched in detailed leaf and vine patterns. This turned out to be Elira’s father, Galan. The younger one on her right was Delentrol, her husband. All around us sat generals and the finest warriors and poets, according to Dremor, that Silver Wood had to offer. It should have made me feel special I suppose, but all it did was make me feel uncomfortable and very much a fraud.

Besides myself and Dremor, Fredrick was also present, more composed now than what he had been earlier. Kolbar also sat at the table, but there was a good space between himself and his elven table companions. All through the meal I could feel Kolbar’s eyes upon me which only added to my discomfort.

“I thank you on behalf of myself and my traveling companions,” Dremor said, raising his glass to Elira and the other elves who sat at the table. Elira inclined her head graciously and lifted her own goblet of purest gem and smiled.

“It is only our pleasure to help in times such as these,” she said. “Which way do you plan on taking from here?”

“That is up to the Keeper,” Dremor said. He stiffened slightly. So did I. “It is she who will direct our journey.”

Elira’s tinkling laugh wafted over the table, “And this is surprising news to our Keeper, I see.” I felt myself blush slightly as I nodded in agreement. “There is time and space here for you to rest long enough to decide which direction you need to go, Keeper,” she said.

“Thank you.” Part of me was relieved, and part of me was still terrified. These people, this world was depending on me, me who had no experience of being a hero or of even fully standing up for myself. Everything I had ever failed to do flowed through my mind at that moment and I could not imagine for the life of me why these people could trust me as they did! I had no earthly idea of what I was supposed to do or how I was supposed to do it! All I knew for certain was that they were depending on me and I could either give up or go on, and, at that point, I was not at all certain what I was going to do. Everything felt very over-whelming and heavy to me at that moment and the thought of having a day or two just to think, to let everything settle (if that could even be possible).

The meal ended, thankfully, not too long after and each of us were led to our quarters for the time being – all of them were in a large tree with vines limbs that were magically encouraged to grow into steps leading up to large boughs where more limbs were encouraged to form walls and roofs. There were no rails on the outside of the steps and I found myself keeping a hand on the tree itself as we ascended. Elira and the others, except for Fredrick (how tall it must have been to him!), did not pay attention to the winding stairs and the absence of a rail.

My room was really a small house nestled high in the tree. It was furnished with a table, a couple of chairs carved from wood it seemed, and a large, comfortable bed. Large orange gems lay upon several clusters of stones throughout the room. Heat radiated slightly from them. When Elira had excused herself with promises she would have someone return for me, she motioned for the others to follow her.

“I’ll be staying right here,” Kolbar said flatly. “The floor is good and solid and I AM a gentleman,” he said. Elira looked to Fredrick who shrugged, and then nodded. “Only for your protection, Keeper,” Kolbar added. There was a sparkle to his dark eyes that made me almost furious, and also amused me. Dremor, not at all happy about the situation nodded, bowed at the door and stepped outside. Fredrick followed and Elira smiled a soft, welcoming smile, and then backed out the door. A thick curtain fell down behind her leaving me totally alone with Kolbar.

“All of this is a bit much isn’t it,” he said, quite matter-of-factly. “Safe and secure as you can be in your world, you come here to uncertainty and possible death to assist a people you never even heard of before.”

“I’ve heard of you, but just in stories,” I said suddenly. Kolbar smiled down into the heating stones.

“I saw your face at the meal,” he continued. “You need space to rest and think, and let whatever is leading us tell you where we should go. Dremor is a good fellow. He is brave and kind, even if he is a little dense at times, and he would die to help you and help our lands, but sometimes he puts pressure on a person by merely being in the same room with them.” Kolbar chuckled softly. “I know from experience. Fredrick is a wizard and curious. He will have questions flowing out his ears as well as his mouth for you, which keeps you from hearing your own thoughts, much less the full content of his questions.” I found myself smiling. “He is a good enough chap as well, even if he is a wizard. He too would die to assist you and our land. Me,” he said with a heavy sigh, “I am keeping a promise I made to a very kind king. I would die for my land, and if you can save my land, I will die for you. Besides, there is something out of place about you, and I understand it. You are out of place, and, at the same time, right where you need to be, even if you don’t understand it at the moment.” Kolbar suddenly looked uncomfortable. “I will be right outside. If you need anything, just call me. No one will bother you as long as I am here.”

“Thank you,” I said, feeling quite small and very close to tears. Kolbar bowed and went through the heavy curtain door to leave me alone. Ella and Enyo both yawned and stretched. They looked at me hopefully, their tails wagging almost in tandem. I crawled up onto the bed and they followed. I had planned to just lay down and think for a moment, but ended up falling fast asleep.

No Matter What We Have Planned, Things Change

The illness I have been suffering from, I believe, is over, which means things may actually sort of get back to order here and other places.

Looking Out at the Sunshine

Today is Saturday. It is a day of rest. Both I and B need it. This past bout of sickness has worn both of us out even though I am the one who was ill. It really does take a lot out of a person to care for someone who is sick. I didn't realize how much it really took out of you until I began caring for my Mom before she died. It was really tough. Not only do you have the physical part to worry about such as medications and taking blood pressures at prescribed times and tons of other technical things to remember, but you also try and keep the spirits of the person who is sick upbeat, no matter what the inevitable outcome is.

You can never let yourself get down in front of them either. You can never let yourself get upset with them, too. What would it do to their morale if you did? So you bottle up all of the pain until you are alone for a few hours and you write it out (which is what I tried to do in my case) or you cry it out (which is something I did quite often). B is a strong man but sometimes I am simply amazed at what all he does for me without complaint. So, today, I have decided, is his day. Whatever he wants to do is fine with me. The sun is shining and it is a brilliantly warm autumn day. Currently he is playing Halo on the X-Box.

Yes, whatever he wishes today I will comply with because he deserves it, because I love him, because I am grateful, because it is good seeing him smile this way.

I'm Alive for the Most Part

Thank you, first and foremost, Cheyenne who has been keeping The News running for me since my downtime on horrible sickness; and thank you for all of those wonderful e-mails of "feel better" and "get well soon" i just found from all of you out there who read my little blog and enjoy it. I am still not totally well, but well enough to sit down and jot a few things before taking more medication and possibly lying down or kill a few brain cells by trying to find something good on TV this afternoon.

Fantasy Revealed is here and ready to go...almost. I re-read what I had and discovered a lot of problems, probably because I wrote it while becoming deathly ill and didn't notice the bents until today upon reading it over before posting. So, it should be up the first of next week because I should be on some type of a normal schedule of feeling good and not being ill any more (crosses fingers). Sorry, but I have been very ill and, well, it is going to take some time to recover fully, but writing should start back up next week as normal.

I Expect, Poetry

I Expect
by Shane Stewart
copyright 2005 Shane Stewart

I expect
That the sun will come out.
That it’s going to rain.
That summer will be hot,
And winter cold,
And that I’ll complain about both
At least once.

I expect
That tomorrow will be bad.
That the next day will be good.
That today will be mediocre,
And horrible,
And excellent in parts and times
Before it’s through.

I expect
That I’ll be alone.
That I’ll fall in love.
That someone I care for
And don’t dare imagine life without
Will be gone far too soon
For my mortal tastes.

And that
I’ll be kissed,
And maybe slapped,
Relished and avoided,
Again and again as days go by.
But above all things, I expect
That I’ll see you again.

The Beginnings and No More Headaches

The migraine of the past two weeks is gone as of this morning.

I woke up at 5:00 this morning because my JoJo wanted out and she told me and not B who was also sleeping soundly. When B came back to bed he asked me how I was feeling. For a moment I just lay there waiting for the inevitable hammering to begin, as usual, but it didn't. "I DON'T HAVE A HEADACHE!" was my cry and we celebrated with laughter and holding each other tight. It was a very good morning while we waited for the alarm clock to go off. Pleasant. In fact, it was the most pleasant morning than I have had for two or more weeks, so, yes, I relished every moment of it.

B went to work and left me in bed so I could get some much needed real sleep and rest. I needed it. When I finally crawled out of bed, JoJo decided to lay there for a few more minutes without me, I felt new. Everything seemed new and prosperous, wonderfully good despite the dreary outside and the cool temps of autumn. I did try to take the kitchen in hand but my legs started shaking horribly which made me quite startled: I am weak. This means I have been seriously ill. It is amazing how so much pain can make you not realize how sick you really are. Sometimes it can be a blessing, of course, and sometimes it isn't. I still have not decided if this instance was a blessing or a curse, so just decided to take one part of my life and order it a little better so I can actually say I have done something productive today.

So, the part of my life I chose was my writing life. Book Two of the Turtle series is ready to start. I signed it up for NaNoWriMo because, well, I need to get some things ordered and organized and some research done before I actually start putting words down on it, and I figured that will take most, if not all, of this month. So, I organized my NaNoWriMo for the novel, selected a journal I will be filling with notes and research material for the story, and went over a short story I am going to be submitting somewhere by the end of the week or the beginning of next week, I hope.

I have journaled in LJ and gone through much email and am actually seeing a difference in the on-line clutter as compared to what it was and how it is now. The clutter on my desk is totally different, of course, and I will have to attend to that very soon, but I still have time and this is good.

It is amazing how much time I have lost in the writing world because of the silly headaches. I don't like losing writing time. It makes me feel as if I am failing or have lost something I will never be able to gain again. I know, this is silly, but this is the way it makes me feel.

Now, on to more writing. FANTASY REVEALED will be up tomorrow.

Angst

I am sick and tired of being sick!

"Just don't give up on trying to do what you really want to do. Where there is love and inspiration, I don't think you can go wrong."

– Ella Fitzgerald

A New Month, A New Day, Same Headache

I am quite simply tired of this headache. I am tired to the bone of it! I want it to go away now. One good thing I can say is that the headache is not consistent now, it left me alone for almost a week, but has now returned to make the scalp sore and the eye twitch, but it isn't as bad as it has been. It sort of ebbs and flows. Sometimes it feels as if it has a high and low "tide" if you will.

Yes, I am tired of the headache from the infected bone behind my ear. Yep, tired of it I say.